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" 'k, sexual favors are warranted." I replied groggily. "Where's the vixen at?" "She's with Angela at the White Rabbit - you'd better hurry because it's closing time and they're getting kicked out."'Ok," I said, pulling on my jeans. "I'm off - go back to sleep."The White Rabbit was a little bar that the k**s liked to go to - a pretty good venue for funky indie bands - about a 15 minute drive. It was a pretty balmy spring night so I wasn't worried about Angela and Kate freezing while waiting outside the nightclub but I was worried about the seedy neighborhood. I sped up. Driving through the quiet streets on a warm spring night and thinking of Kate and Angela at the night club gave me a twinge of nostalgia and made me think of nights in my past when I'd be out at night clubs like the White Rabbit.Kate and Angela were best buds and had been since public school. I don't know why though, because they are different as night and day. Angela, a very pretty 19 year old tall, thin, blonde, is. He woke with a little jolt, and looked down at her lying curled up against him. God, her buttocks were attractive, soft, sensual and truly deserving a good fucking. But as she slept, her steady breathing somehow exciting him even more.Gently, he began to stroke her top buttock, his whole palm starting at her waist and sweeping slowly around to her thigh, then trailing back up to her waist and stroking down, a little lower, feeling the soft, firmness of her muscles, then up the crease at her thigh. Down again, her whole muscle being massaged as his finger tips brushed past her still sticky slit. Down her crease, between the buttocks, over her ring and perineum, his finger tips dragging through her furrow, the juice gooey on his skin.She whimpered and pulled her leg up towards her breast, exposing her cunt to his inquisitive fingers. He stroked her soft lips and the juices oozed as she whimpered again.He felt himself get hard as he continued to stroke her slit. Finally he pulled himself.
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I'm single. Well, actually I'm a widower, having lost my wife of nearly 60 years, fours ago. We'd been quite happy during all that time together. We seemed to have it all, except for children. I've never been able to father any, having had an accident when I was in my early teens, thus rendering my reproductive capabilities moot.Without kids though, I was able to devote my time to both my job and my wife. Eleanor was a wonderful woman. She never complained about not having any children. Hell, with all the kids in the neighborhood, it was as though we did. She was simply 'Grandma' to all of them. She'd bake cookies, cook cakes, always have ice-cold lemonade in the fridge whenever they asked for some. She treated those kids like they were their own. When she passed away I think every kid from that neighborhood came to the viewing and to the funeral. Of course they were older and had kids of their own by that time, but they still loved her and had always remembered her birthday and send.

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