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And you’d have the last laugh, because in the end I did get married, and it was pretty good. It was fuckin’ fantastic. You just hafta find the right person.Mattie was a looker, in both senses. He was amazin’ly handsome, with thick curly brown hair bleached tan at the ends by salt and sun, pale blue eyes, a straight, thin aristocratic nose, the kind of chin which still looks good even when you get jowls, a dancer’s neck column, shoulders like Superman, and pecs to match. He was wearin’ white nylon rugby shorts with short legs, the kind which let me see just how good his legs were – thighs firm and muscular, sprinkled with dark hair, calves sweetly curved, and nice feet. Laugh if you like, but I like good feet. He was a looker in the other way too. He looked at me, then away, then eyed some chicks walkin’ along in the sun, then looked back. I nodded when he looked the third time.“G’day.” he said. His voice was a bit deep, a bit gruff and it kinda did things to my stomach. Gazza had. Well you can bet I said Yes! Friendly chit chat to the party filled my car. At the party Mortisha's red dress clung to her curves and exposed enough cleavage to make a dead man take notice. On the ride to her apartment I talked of some of my sexual experiences and she mentioned I should write a book. I let her know in no uncertain terms that if she ever wanted to experience an older man I would definitely be more than willing. She kind of shrugged it of as something that happens to her often, and I thought I should have maybe no come on so strong. I helped her carry her stuff into her apartment. Asked to use the bathroom, and was saying my goodbyes. She held out her arms so i gave her a hug. Her large breast flattening out against my chest the warmth was such a treat. We stepped back and I went to kiss her on the cheek, but her lips were available so I planted a light kiss, and was surprised when her lips separated and her tongue started exploring my mouth. We stepped back into a.
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