New Phase 2: Sharon
Westlake Village, California
March 25, 2010
11:26 PM
“Question is, will she like him?”
“And how do we get them together?”
“Why don’t you call Sharon, and tell her that you and your ‘new’ wife are going to be I the valley tomorrow and would like to take her to lunch.”
“The ‘new wife’ thing should get her curiosity up, but still sounds pretty much as a push for her listing.”
“Or maybe an invitation to lunch for a lonely old lady.”
“Okay.”
March 26, 2010
10:03 AM
Both padding nude to his desk, the Murphy file by itself on the side.
Encino, California
10:05 AM
“Hello.”
“Mrs. Murphy, good morning. It’s Mitch Lipensky. Hope I’m not calling too early.”
“Mitchell…” sincerely spoken “...no, not at all. Good morning.”
“How are You?”
Thinking: obligatory’ conversation.
Sharon’s usual reply: “For an old lady, just fine. And you?” she asked.
“For an old man..” Mitchell replied “...I’m just fine also.”
No reason for his age coming up within their past salesman/client conversations.
“Come on! You’re not an old man, Mitchell.”
Important Sharon know they’re all in the same age category.
“You’d be surprised, Sharon. I’m seventy-six.”
Looking years younger — only one year younger than herself, Sharon is surprised.
“Really?” Sincerely questioned. “ ‘Really’ “ she asked again.
How to sound like I’m not calling to ask about listing her property?
“I remember you telling me you’d let me know when you’re ready to put your house on the market, so that’s not why I’m calling.”
Realising he was having a problem getting to the point, motioning to the phone…
“Mrs Murphy, my name’s Marsha, and I’m Mitchie’s new wife and he’s been telling me about some of his wonderful, old… By ‘old’ I don’t mean in years, but rather some of the wonderful people he’d worked with through the years that remember, and call him when they want to talk ‘real estate’, and he’s told me about you, and seeing as we have to make a quick stop at the office tomorrow, Mitch and me thought it would be nice to see if you’d like to join us for lunch.”
Thinking he was in his mid to late fifties. “Mitchell is married…” sounding pleased “...how nice! How long has it been?”
Woman’s intuition, Strongly picking up the ‘pleased’ tone along with a bit of underling jealousy.
“That we’re married? It’s a long story that sounds better over a cocktail… So will you?”
“The ‘long story’ sounds intriguing… especially over a cocktail. “
“So, it’s a ‘go’ for tomorrow?”
“I don’t drive anymore.”
“No, Mitch and I will pick you up at..” looking at him.
Nodding his head, “Twelve-thirty.” he whispered.
“Twelve-thirty, if that’s okay with you… Mind if I call you ‘Sharon’ ?”
“No, of course not. Twelve-thirty will be fine.”
“See you then…” Marsha said “...bye.”
Westlake Village, California
10:27 AM
“Well, that’s settled. Where do we want to go for lunch?”
“The ‘Valley Inn’ still there?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t wandered into Sherman Oaks for years.”
“You remember?”
Remembering.
Swivelling the desk chair, facing my wife…
Sitting on one of the lounge chairs facing the desk and hanging television, and me.
Perfectly appropriate for Marsha to be sitting completely naked… Her sloping tits flat upon either side of her chest. Her thighs parted just enough for me to see a bit of white hair within the dark crevice — Noting me looking, widening her thighs purposely exposing her entire seventy-four year old pussy.
Which, I suppose because I hadn’t eaten breakfast, made me, in a way, hungry.
Perfectly appropriate for me to be sitting completely naked facing my wife… With an upward jerking seventy-six year old cock.
“Yeah, I remember…”
“And what came after.”
Bothremembering.
Sherman Oaks, California
May 25,1986
7: 28 PM
“Good evening.” Ken said “...I believe there’s a reservation for, uh…”
“Good evening…” a beautifully attired, middle aged woman standing alongside a dark oak podium “...how many in your party, please.?”
“Eight.”
Not sure if the reservation had been made by Janice or in the name of her ex husband.
“Janice Kim.” Sandy volunteered.
“Aah, yes.” Motioning to a waitress. “Table nine, please.”
The outside door opening. “Hi!” Marsha and Mitchell entered and directly behind, Evie Dorfman.
Directed to a large round table, the two couples seated while awaiting Lita Warner, the beautiful black woman, Morgan Joseph, the burly Veit Nam veteran and their hostess, Janice Kim, a bewitchingly beautiful Euro/Asian woman, whom had had one cancerous breast removed.
“Holy shit!”
Heavy sideburns gone. White beard thinned and trimmed to within two inches of Morgan’s chin…
Looking much as a fashion cover for ‘GQ Magazine’, Morgan Joseph approached the table.
“Holy shit!” Mitchell whispered to his wife…
“Holy shit!” Marsha whispered back visualising Morgan’s thick, uncircumcised penis.
Taking one of the two remaining chairs either alongside of Mitchell or Evie, taking the seat alongside of Evie, Morgan sat.
Actually no more than five minutes late. So not appearing to be making ‘a grand entrance’…
Although.
Appearing as an elegant Euro/Asian beauty, heads of others seated within the huge dining room of ‘The Valley Inn’ turned looking. Watching as the strikingly beautiful — ‘beautifully’ red and black kimono clad thirty-two year old Janice Kim crossed the room.
Going to the one vacant chair, that was pulled out by Morgan.
“Okay! Let’s eat!” Motioning to a waiter… Janice ordered two bottles of red and one white wine.
“Just tell him whichever you want when he ‘uncorks’ and when you order, don’t even bother to look at the price, order whatever you want.”
The side of his hand to Morgan’s ear. “He don’t know it, but my ‘ex’ is paying for all this.”
“Her ‘ex’?” Evie loudly whispered. “Who the hell could find anyone to replace her?”
Evie’s words picked up by Janice. “An old rich bitch that wants to invest in
his clinic, and it’s more than ‘just’ fine with me. Glad to be rid of the old fucker!”
So much for ‘demure’!
An illusion shattered. “You’re a ‘Valley Girl’!” Evie affectionately said.
“Yeah!” Index finger to her lips. “Shhh ! Don’t tell anyone!” Janice comically rolled her eyes.
The wine coming and ‘uncorked’.
The waiter standing by and pouring as Morgan, Marsha, Ken and Evie opted for ‘white’ while, Janice, Sandy, Mitchell and Lita and Evie ‘red’.
Standing, lifting and holding his glass forward. “A toast...” Morgan said “...to the sexiest, gutsiest lady I’ve ever known.”
Although the flash of remembrance of a fellow CIA operative, a truly ‘gutsy’ woman by the name of Doris Wainright who’s mangled body Morgan had carried from a muddy field in Cambodia..
“And thanks to you and your ‘ex’ for this great diner!” Evie added.
Five Prime steaks and three, two pound Main lobsters later.
Then desert and cordials…
Finished.
“I’ve an idea!”
The group looked to Janice.
“I live in Tarzana, about ten minutes from here and have this really great private pool, so why don’t you all follow me home and we can go, uh…”
“ ‘Skinny dipping’.” I said.
“Sure, why not!” Ken ‘strongly’ suggested. “...we all know what we all look like naked anyway, so what’s the difference?” Turning to Sandy. “This okay with you?”
Although Morgan’s uncircumcised penis had been on her mind earlier in the day, all Sandy Murray really wanted to to was — figuratively and actually, was to get her hands on Mitchell.
Tarzana, California
9:22 PM
Although everyone knew each other by touch — there was the unseen orgy in Janice Kim’s fully cushioned ‘black room’.
The men, of course being careful not to touch another man. But the man being touched did not know who was doing the touching, and by this time all eight drunk on costly tequila and stoned by high quality maharajah — including the five women who really didn’t care who was doing the feeling and/or the fucking… jpining the men, didn’t care either.
So the night of 5/25/86 became planted in the minds of all eight as the erotic highlight of their entire middle-aged promiscuous lifetime.
Westlake Village, California
March 25, 2010
11:26 AM
Remembering…
Marsha stood and, crossing the six feet that separated the lounger she had purposelessly promiscuously been reclining on to her husbands…
Remembering…
Watching as my naked wife crossed the six feet from the lounger she had purposelessly, promiscuously been reclining on and — not all that genitally, taking hold of my cock, “Come on, baby…” urging me to my feet where I meekly followed “...let’s fuck!”
Remembering, I really did not need much urging.
Encino, California
March 27, 2010
12:32 PM
Opening the door and staring as…. “Sharon, hi! This is my wife, Marsha.”
Women not usually prone to give instantaneous complements to other women...
“My God, Mitchell…” posed as a statement, not a question “... where did you find such a beautiful lady!”
...Unless it’s one of the perks of old age.
“You, too, Sharon. You’re cute as can be.”
Seventy-seven year old Sharon Murphy is 5’5”, has a round faced with startling blue eyes and short, curly, light blonde shaggy cut hair— that very possibly might have been the natural shade years back. Is fairly large busted with hips a bit too wide for Sharon’s slight frame. Her smile best described as ‘sunny’.
The two women forming an instant ‘mutual admiration society’. Standing within her doorway. “Care to come in a moment?” Meaning: would you like to use the bathroom; another condition of old age.
“We’ve reservations for ‘one’ at the Valley Inn, unless you’d rather go elsewhere.”
“Oh no, Mitchell. That was our —Clyde and my favourite place.”
Opening the passenger side door. “One thing about an old Lincoln; there’s plenty of room in the front, unless you’d rather…”
“No-no…” giving a hint about her attitude as she slipped into the centre position on the wide bench seat “...living alone, one begins to crave human contact.” glancing at Marsha. “unless you want…”
“No, Sharon. This is just fine.”
Valley Inn
Sherman Oaks, California
1:10 PM
“Clyde and me always loved the ‘old world’ atmosphere here. So glad they haven’t changed it.’”
Tearing a soft dinner roll in two and slathering half a pad of butter onto it.”You and Clyde came here much?”
“Yes. Sometimes. There’s so many places to go to in the LA area.”
“Excuse me…” Black slacks and short cut jacket, white shirt and black bow tie “...might you care for a cocktail before ordering?”
Hesitating. Not sure of Mitchell and Marsha’s attitude about liquor.
“Yes, please.” Marsha said “I’d like a margarita, blended with salt.”
The waiter looking at Sharon…
“ ‘Tanqueray’ martini, please.”
A glance passing between Marsha and Mitchell silently said... ‘This is getting better all the time’.
“Martini for me too, ‘Beefeater’.”
Taking a dinner roll also, and slathering half a pad of butter onto it. “So tell me, when did you two get married?”
“Let’s see, today’s the twenty-sixth…” counting backwards on her fingers “...eight days. Mitchie and I have been married for eight days now.”
Studying these two. “Somehow…” Sharon said “...I’ve a feeling things go back way further than eight days.”
Giggling. “I suppose you could say things go back ‘way’ further than eight days.”
“Yeah…” Mitchell said “...like sixty-one years further back.”
‘Sixty-one years’! Long history here. Sharon thought. And if they want to talk about it, they will.
The drinks arriving.
Always curious about this — so Sharon thought, young man and, possibly enjoying his company during the sale of their old home and the search for their new home more than she ought..
Taking a small sip, then a larger drink. “I think I owe you and explanation, Mitchell.”
Taking a bite of the roll, then a swallow of martini. “How’s that, Sharon.”
“ ‘Sherry’ will be fine. After Clyde died, I was able to handle the loss and loneliness for a couple of years… Clyde and me, you see, we did lots of things together: Trips to Europe; cruses to Asia; concerts…” giggling “...we even went to nude beaches in France.
Thinking, Why’s an old ladies giggle tickle me so much?
“Anyway…” Sharon going on “...I was becoming so lonely living in that small house that has so many memories, I began to toy with the idea of moving into one of those ‘senior citizens retirement apartments’. And that’s why I called you a couple of months ago, but I ‘really’ can’t see myself spending what’s left of my life in such a standardised, commercialised environment, and…” taking a long drink of martini, then looking from Mitchell to Marsha “...I miss the warmth of not having a man in my life.”
Once again, a glance passing between Marsha and Mitchell silently saying…
‘This is getting better all the time’.
The waiter returning with pad in hand.
Next: New Phase 3: The Arrangement
