We didn’t date or anything back then, but had always lived in the same city and would occasionally run into each other. She was heavy set woman with...generous size tits, long blonde hair, and brown eyes.We hooked up at some point in our early 40s. I used to go out for beers with a buddy of my named Paul. My then-wife knew Paul, and encouraged me to go out. Hell, she would go out with her girlfriends and often not get home until the 3:00 or 4 in the morning.One night, I was out with Paul and ran. So did the Bless.I hurt less. For a given value of less. Not a good value either. One of those multiply by the square root of negative one, values.I was fed and watered and slept again. The next time I woke, I could actually open my eyes.Painfully, but they were open.“Did anyone get the number of the building that fell on me?” I slowly sat up.“He lives,” DB announced in that ultra-low voice of his.“How long was I out?”“Thirty-five hours.”“Oh, is that all?”“Is that all, he says?” Beau sounded. My eyes flitted around, searching for the perfect thing. I spotted a short jean skirt, the material looking like it would hug me tight. I snagged it off the rack, and then I noticed a black belly shirt that had no sleeves. I was a size 2 petite, so I grabbed the size 1. I wanted it tight. Smirking, I headed to the changing room.I didn’t hesitate to strip off my old clothes. I left them in a pile on the floor. I didn’t need those boring things any longer. I ripped the tags off my new jean skirt. I do my homework. I make the best grades. Mom wants me to be under her thumb all the time, and I refuse to do that. She told me. Mom had me when she was still sowing her wild oats, and there were way too many oats. She thinks Im going to do the same. Im not, but if I do, Ill make my own mistakes, not hers. I saw her point. However, I felt the need to caution her about some of the things a young girl needs to be concerned. I tried not to lecture her, and I said, well, Mom has a right to be.
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