A chance encounter sparks regrets and then fulfillment

My phone rang. The ringtone was the opening from Elvin Bishop’s Travelin’ Shoes. That meant it was Connie.

“Hey you sexy old broad”

“Hi you sexy old man. I just looked at the calendar and it doesn’t look like you have to work this weekend. Instead of me coming up there, why don’t you get your neighbor to look after the Rocky and come down here for the weekend.”

Connie and I had been seeing each other on weekends for about a month and a half. We met at a concert at the theater where I volunteer, scanning tickets or being an usher on the nights we had seated shows. We met outside in the smoking area and she had gotten me stoned. We got separated that night and failed to find each other again. We both felt a connection though, and the next weekend Connie drove the thirty miles to see if the connection she felt between us was real. It was, and we had spent every weekend together since. It was always at my house though because I don’t like imposing on my neighbor to feed and walk my Rocky and with different bands on Friday and Saturday nights, we always had music to listen to. And since she got in free as my guest, it was the proverbial cheap date. Plus she was intelligent, good looking, easy to talk with, and a damn fine lay.

Both of us were widowed. Me for nine months and Connie for almost three years. My wife had been ill for a couple of years before her passing and neither Connie nor I had had “real” sex for a couple of years before we met. Since that time, we had fucked like a couple of teenagers in heat, even though we were both in our mid-sixties. In some respects, I was glad she lived far enough away that during the week we rarely saw each other, otherwise I would probably be on life support. Connie is retired, but I still work a full week as well as volunteer on weekend nights. My wife’s illness had drained a substantial portion of what we thought we would retire on, and, since her passing, having to go to work was a prime motivation to get out of bed in the morning.

“OK, let me call the neighbors and make sure they’re going to be home this weekend and will be able to take care of the Rocky, and I’ll call you back as soon as I know.”

“Sounds good. If they seem hesitant, threaten them with violence,” she giggled. I really would like you to come down here this weekend. Bye lover, talk soon.”

After we hung up, I called my neighbors and explained the situation. They said they would be happy to take care of my Rocky and that I should go and have fun.

On Friday, I skipped out of work about fifteen minutes early and headed right to Connie’s since I had packed a shirt, an extra pair of shorts and the essentials in a knapsack the night before. I figured it would take me about forty five minutes to get to her apartment even though it was only thirty miles away. Most of that time would be spent in late rush hour traffic in the small city where she lived.

After fighting my way through the Friday afternoon traffic, I finally found a place to park in the vicinity of her apartment, frazzled. I hate driving in the city. Her apartment was the second floor of an old stone house on the edge of downtown. It was within walking distance of restaurant and bar area, and a fifteen minutes’ walk would get you to the casino. She had told me a gay couple had bought it and split it into two apartments to help cover the mortgage. She had said it was really nice and had all the modern amenities and that she got a good deal on the rent since she had taught one of the guys in fifth grade.

By :Kozmic Kowboy

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