The Retirement Village (REVISED)

I’m a 59-year-old retired police detective who enjoys extreme jogging, reading mystery novels, listening to music and dancing. I have been described as loveable and generous, but I can also be described as very suspicious minded and a bit stern. I’m a Patriotic American who defines myself as straight. I have a degree in criminal justice, politics, and economics. I’m obsessed with running and physical fitness.

After my retirement from the police department and the passing of my wife, I moved into a Retirement Village out in the Southwest. If you think old people don’t enjoy sex, you are mistaken. I’m currently single. My most recent romantic relationship was Katelyn, my deceased wife who was the same age as me. She’s been gone three years, and I miss her very much. My best friend is a retired municipal judge named Howard Cook. We get on well most of the time when we are not arguing politics. I also hang around with Gordon Thomas and Milford Graham. They are both retired cops, and we enjoy cycling together.

Physically, I’m is in pretty good shape. I’m tall with bronze skin, Gray hair and Blue eyes. I grew up in a middle-class neighborhood. My father was a police officer like myself. He died in the line of duty when I was young. I was raised by my mother who was a registered nurse.

I have been a widower for the past three years. My first year living alone I knocked around in my big empty two-story, four-bedroom home located in an upscale neighborhood. My two daughters, Karen and Susan, kept close tabs on me. They worried I wasn’t eating right and taking care of myself correctly. I received phone calls every day from them checking to see if I was taking my medication, eating properly and getting enough rest. I appreciated their concern, but it was getting annoying. I told them I never got bored because I was spending most of my time answering their phone calls. They eventually convinced me to sell the house and move in with one of them.

I moved in with Karen for a year, but she drove me crazy fussing over me day in and day out. I couldn’t take the constant attention, so I moved in with Susan, my youngest. Susan and her husband Mike have four young children, and I was definitely interfering with their family routine; not to mention the wear and tear on my nerves. I decided, for the sake of everyone’s sanity, it would be better for all if I moved into a retirement village where I could hang out with people my own age. I chose ‘The Meadows’ because I was able to have my own one-bedroom apartment complete with kitchen and laundry room.

‘The Meadows’ was built around a golf course and several small lakes. I think the total acreage was around three thousand. There were other amenities such as a gym, hiking and jogging trails, recreation hall, a movie theatre, bowling lanes, support groups, social groups and special events. The village was made up of both married couples and singles. A little more than half were married couples. Of the single residents, three quarters were single widows and the rest single widowers like me. The single women more than outnumbered the single men.

My first week at ‘The Meadows’, I met Monica while out for an early morning jog. Monica is a 59-year-old retired college professor who enjoys learning new languages, sailing and horse racing. She is energetic and smart, but can also be very selfish and a bit standoffish. She is a liberated woman who defines herself as bisexual. She was quick to tell me she was bi-sexual when I noticed her eyeing other women. She has a degree in philosophy, politics, and economics.

Physically, Monica is in good shape. She is average height with a medium complexion, chestnut hair, and green eyes. She is a young-looking woman with an athletic body. I would say she was 5′ 4″, 110 pounds. It is obvious she takes great pride in her appearance. She could easily pass for a woman in her forties.

Monica has lived at ‘The Meadows’ for a year. The morning we met, we spent five hours talking, walking and generally getting to know one another. Those five hours flew by, and Monica invited me to dinner at her apartment that night, and I gladly accepted. She grew up in a wealthy neighborhood. Her father was a prominent criminal defense attorney, and her mother was a socialite. Her father died fifteen years ago of a heart attack while she was on vacation at Disney World with her two teenage children. He died while arguing a high-profile case in court.

She was married to Arthur Charley Cooke who was also an attorney in her father’s law firm. He was killed two years ago when a drunk driver slammed into his car on a rain-slick road. Monica had two children with husband Arthur: Alannah now aged 28 and Kristin aged 32. They are both happily married with young children.

Monica turned out to be an excellent cook. I brought a bottle of wine, and we finished it off after dinner. We kissed and cuddled for over an hour. Monica is an old-fashioned, woman and clung to her family values. In spite of that, I was able to cop a feel of her breast before the evening was over. We agreed to see each other again, but Monica asks that I take it a bit slower. I think I upset her by being too hands-on during our first date. However, on our third date, Monica finally allowed me to fondle and suck her naked breast. I was not used to moving that slowly, but I felt obliged to honor Monica’s wishes. I knew that in time I could eventually entice her into my bed.

Each Saturday night the Retirement village holds a dance for the residents. I invited Monica, but she told me she was spending the weekend with her daughter, Kristin and her three young grandchildren.