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Speaking of Coach Hamilton, two years after he showed up with his basketball team, he called me. "Iris, it's Denny Hamilton, I'm not sure you remember me."

"Of course, I do, Coach, how are you? You know that was one of the best nights I'd had in decades. Are you coming to Reno?"

"It was one of my best nights, too. I'm not in Reno, but I just signed a contract to coach the university's basketball team."

"Oh?" I wasn't sure what to think. I wouldn't mind spending a night with him; my leaking pussy was telling me that, but I was too old to take a lover. I was fifty-four.

Then I was and my life completely changed.

When Denny arrived in Reno and found a place to live, he called me. "Dinner?"

After all these years, I'd organized the house so it almost ran itself; at least for a night or two. Denny was a charming dinner companion. It took me a while to relax, but he made it easy.

There was no question in my mind I was going to sleep with him. In my condo, we were all over each other. In bed, "Iris, I know we're not in Iris' House, and even if we were, you don't follow the rules."

He'd been playing with my tits. Now, he went down on me. I didn't protest. "Denny, you were the last one."

He was magnificent. My pussy hadn't felt like that in ages or at least since Denny and I were together that one time. I squealed and moan and sighed when his tongue did my clitoris just right. No acting.

"You have my pussy so ready for your cock. Come up here and fuck me. When he was inside, I licked his face, and giggled, "no wonder you like my pussy, it does taste sweet."

"I'll eat it some more if you want," he smiled down at me.

"Oh no, not right now, but I'll keep that in mind. Right now, you need to fuck me good."

I may not have been the fuck I was when I was twenty, but at least in my own mind, I fucked Denny as good as I've ever fucked. Denny fucked me as good as I'd been fucked in ages.

We groaned and grunted. "Oh God, Denny, your cock was so good to me. I know it'll be a while, but when you're ready, my pussy and if you want, my mouth is all yours."

"I know what I want right now." He went down on me.

"Denny, you don't . . ."

"Iris, a gentleman always cleans up his mess."

Ten minutes later, I had another orgasm. Denny spent the night. The blowjob he received in the morning wasn't like I gave clients years ago. I made love to his cock.

I checked in with Iris' House twice, but Denny and I stayed in bed for another two days. At his age, like most men, he needed time to recover. That didn't mean we couldn't snuggle. Like I said, it had been decades and decades since my last lover.

I enjoyed every minute. Every kiss. Every time he just played with my tits. Every time my hand explored his dead cock.

I could not in good conscience start a relationship with him. I explained, "Denny, you have a high-profile job. What I do may be legal, but the Board of Governors at the university will frown upon any serious relationship between us."

"But . . ."

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