They're both married now, and graced us with four grandchildren – two apiece.Bruce asked me to write about 'my situation, ' and the first couple of ...ries I made read like a report on a replacement software system for at Atlas rocket. I've made an attempt in this version to be a little more humanistic instead of instructional, such as 'put left thumb in left ear.'I did not take to retirement as well as I thought I would. I was restless. I tried a whole string of hobbies and athletic endeavors:. Of course it now became a list of all the weird stuff that comes into your head when you’re stoned. The list read something like this: How many strangers can I make smile in one hour? How do they make custard creams? Which restaurant serves the best pancakes in Amsterdam? But then I wrote something that brought everything into focus. You have no commitments now. You can do whatever you like!!! It was then that I made my second decision. I was going to go to a brothel. I had only ever had sex. I pass the bad news on to Megan, and she accepts it graciously. “I’ve read that women in small primitive communities synchronize their periods,” she says. “Maybe we women can do that, and then the men will be out of luck with all of us simultaneously.”“Ah, you’re crueler than I thought,” I giggle. Maybe we can work something like that out.We caress and kiss and talk for a few more minutes, and then Megan moves to get dressed and set about her day.“Reminder,” I remind her. “Are you still. We talked some small talk. I still remember her work polo shirt unbuttoned to her cleavage. It wasn't overly sexy or anything, but she looked so cute and her tits were so pert and overflowing that it worked for her. She also wore somewhat inappropriate white Capri pants. I could see her pockets through it, but no pantie lines. When I looked closely I could see the outline of a tiny white g-string... maybe. "Shit, my break is up," she said, "I'm coming over for dinner tonight." She smiled back.