It was almost noon before we were finally dressed. Sunday was market day, and we took advantage of the crisp fall weather to walk down to the shops on the harbor, mostly hand-in-hand but occasionally much closer; giving the weekend interlopers something to wag their tongues about as they observed the significant difference in our ages. One couple was so obvious in their stares that Marissa just had to tease them, pulling me into her for a long, sensuous kiss as she squeezed my ass. Of course, I had to reciprocate. Shopping completed, we had a late lunch at Phillips, out on the patio, then strolled leisurely back to the townhouse with our culinary booty. We got everything put up in time for me to watch the second half of the football game. Marissa did her best to try to distract me, and I admit that trying to concentrate on the game while in a state of arousal was difficult. It wasn’t until she walked in wearing nothing but an apron and asked me to help make dinner that I realized. Becker," he said. "You will never do or sayanything to anybody to contradict this, nor will you seek to leave theretirement village. You should go and pack now, Sam."And so I did. With leaden feet I shuffled up to my sterfather's room,appalled by the effort it took me now that I was seriously overweightand no longer had the energy of youth. Seeing my hairy, liver-spottedhand on the stair banister I shuddered. In place of elegant fingersending in long, perfectly painted nails I had these great ugly thingswith their bitten down nails. The sight should have reduced me to asobbing mess, but thanks to Frank ordering me to be calm it didn't.Nevertheless when I got to the room I couldn't bear to look at myselfin a mirror, so instead I just concentrated on the task at hand,filling a travel case with Sam's clothing and toiletries.When I returned to the patio, Frank and Louise were talking animatedly,but now they were standing closer together. Her body language wasspeaking volumes about what.
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