Init, a group of elderfolk are sitting around, doing the usual things oldfogies do on tv. Complaining about aches and pains. Feeling sorry forthemselv...s. And, ultimately, waiting to die. Much like myself of late, I'mafraid. But, miraculously, one of them realizes that it was when they gave upthe games of their childhood that they began to grow old. And all it takes tobecome young again is to let go of your fear and grief and hurt.And start playing kick-the-can once more.Unfortunately, I'm. I’m 23, good looking, but shy. Donna, my older sister,called me up and said that her apartment was beingpainted and she wanted to stay at my place overnight. Naturally, I said okay. Donna is 27, divorced, verypretty but she says she doesn’t want to getromantically involved with anyone just now. Shebrought a pizza over and we ate and had some beersthen I went to take a shower. I stepped out of the shower and there was Donna,sitting on the toilet, pissing. I could plainly seethe dark. I tried to memorise every detail of her subtly sexy outfits and couldn’t wait to return to my study for ‘relief’.On one occasion, she was wearing soft black leather trousers, shiny black stilettos and a breathtaking sheer white silk blouse. She was standing close to me as I was bleeding radiators – looking down, pointing and gently instructing. I was finding her presence somewhat distracting and managed to leak some heating fluid onto her cream dining room carpet. She was furious. Hands on. There’d never been anything sexual between us up then but suddenly he began flirting with me, telling me how nice I looked and once, when I was getting ready to go somewhere special, I can’t really remember where, he even told me I looked sexy. I wasn’t at all offended, in fact I felt flattered. It isn’t often a seventy two year old woman gets told she looks sexy and over time, his flirting got more blatant and to tell the truth I got quite turned on by it and decided to see just how far he’d.