Pulling Power

Last week I was back in the UK, attending my old firms annual reunion. The best bit was getting down the pub afterwards and meeting up with all the other contemporary Old Farts. Even better was, that whilst there, I pulled a bird !!

"The bird" was the young(ish) lady that organises all the office catering and it was a great feeling walking out of there and seeing the covert but envious glances that followed me. I could almost see some of them thinking, " he's lost none of that old pulling power from 40 odd years ago when, as a young blade, he was running amok in the typist pool".

The reality, that I'm not telling them, was that I was sitting near the end of a table when she came and sat next to me, nudged me in the ribs and whispered in my ear "You're coming home with me tonight!"

That proved to be the highlight of the evening, indeed the night! We duly arrived at her place, opened a bottle of white wine and repaired to the front room carpet for an orgy of snogging, groping and "you must listen to this " romantic music. These physical activities I am now little suited to by way of age and somewhat portly bearing and as a way of relieving my discomfort casually edged toward the sofa for lumbar support. As I writhed in a combination of sexual foreplay and acute discomfort I somehow managed to activate the foot-rest mode of the sofa. Every time I moved a great leather bound shelf shot out and rammed me in the kidneys,to add even more to my discomfort.

Later (it seemed MUCH later) she disappeared into the bathroom for several minutes and returned clad in neck to ankle black pyjamas, rather like a jogging suit. I didn't find this off-putting in the least as I had heard that horizontal jogging was, as well as being sexually satisfying, extremely beneficial to cardio-vascular health. We retired to the bedroom and to bed.

As I edged over to her side I looked down expecting to find myself in an advanced state of sexual excitement, but nothing! All I saw was a limp,flaccid little stump of flesh and felt not the slightest of stirrings in the loins. I desperately tried to think of an amusing explanation when she said " God I feel terrible! The rooms spinning and I feel sick!" SAVED!

I settled down for the night and soon fell asleep. Not for long because, in the dead of night, the duvet was throw back and a giant electric fan on the bedside table switch to full blast. Yes the dreaded hot flushes! I lay there, trying to get back to sleep, as though in a wind tunnel, with my finger nails dug deep into the mattress to save being blown off the bed. A bad night with three such attacks!

In the morning your correspondent made his excuses and left!!! (with apologies to the News of the World)

I've thought about this, my first sexual encounter since my wife died five years ago, a lot and edited in these thoughts. Senility in old farts is often called "second childhood", I don't feel I am that old but have come to the conclusion that I am in fact suffering from "second virgin-hood".

I AM A 68 YEAR OLD VIRGIN!