Group Chat

Just an hour or two ago two of my younger Facebook friends invited me to a group chat.

I declined. I’m 63 next month, and not up for a group chat at 10:30pm.

Turns out that these, I don’t know, twenty something girls, are both in bed, as I write this, covers up to their chins, smiling playfully.

One of them, a lovely, delicious looking young thing, I slipped up with and treated to some messenger sex,(text only), several months ago.

It went along these lines, “as we gaze into each other’s eyes, lips barely touching and causing a tingle that is tiny but but intense, reaching down somehow into our lower bellies and thrumming into our sweetest spots, my left hand traces a tiny line across your chest, coming down to rest, palm on nipple, underside of my forearm on your near nipple, both palm and forearm rotating those joyful, swollen, tight, nipples, lips still touching, eyes still gazing, watching your pupils get wider and wider as my hand strays down along your belly, a trace of cool fire, until my fingers split, gently, but firmly, slowly and languorously pushing up and down while squeezing together the top of your outer labia, so that your clit begins to tighten and swell…

Well, anyway, it was something along those lines.

I was just coming out of forty five years of alcoholic fog, trying to nurse myself…