I Tried to Kill as Many of Those Motherf**kers as I Could

Published April 15, 2012 by Sandee

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I think I’m letting my pushing-90-year-old friend “Artie” go too far.  Yesterday he stood half an inch from me to describe his love-making technique.  He says, sotto voce, “First, I touch her face.”  He takes his wrinkly hand and strokes the side of my face and I says to myself, hmmm.  “Then I move my hand down past her shoulders,” he says.  I say to myself, okay.  “Then, I move my hands underneath her breasts,” he says, but then his buddy from the old folks club yelled across the room to say he was ready to leave.  I’m standing there smiling ear to ear.  “Artie” grabs me and we kiss in the mouth as he holds me real close.  I’m thinking, He’s not a pervert, not a pervert, not a pervert.

You see I think it’d be novel…to…you know…  And I need to stop it with that shit.  ‘cause see, I’d fuck him just to tell people that I fucked a 90 year man.  Word!   Well, if that is possible.  “Artie” is one of those really youthful, blessed with good genes old people who still has a sex life.  He told me he got a blow job in Florida and had an old bitch on his jock.  Word!  “Oh yeah, she’s loaded.  She has a condo in Miami he tells me.”  “Are, you still…you know…able to have sex?”  I say.  “Oh yeah but it was hard.  I was out of commission for two days afterward.”   He says he went down there to Florida and spent time with his sister and four or five of her friends.  “Old broads” he called them.  They all went out to a restaurant.  The waiter asks him, as he’s the only gent, if he’s escorting all the women.  “I’m their pimp,” my boy Artie says to the waiter.

He’s an engaging, interesting fellow, who tells some really good stories, the ones from waaaaaaaaay back when.  He was in WWII, yep.  “Did you kill anyone?”  “Yeah, sure I did,” he says.  “Don’t you have flashbacks?  Do you feel bad?”  I ask.  “Artie” is Jewish.  He saw the devastation of the concentration camps.  He says to me, “Hell no!  I tried to kill as many of those motherfuckers as I could.” “Oooo, stop you’re getting me hot,” I tell him.

Initially, I’m thinking I could flirt aggressively with someone this age without having to “pay up.”  But I don’t know, “Artie’s” is pretty hot.  And he’s describing his ‘moves’ and everything.  Artie turns me on.

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5 comments on “I Tried to Kill as Many of Those Motherf**kers as I Could

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