Then about a month ago a new tenant moved in next door to me and all that changed. My new neighbour was a lady in her late sixties and after just...a couple days we were on first name terms. Her name was Hazel, she was only slightly older than me at sixty seven and had moved up from Telford to look after her mother, who lived on the top floor of the block. She was slightly disabled, using a mobility scooter to get around and this was the catalyst that brought us closer together, much. I lived in a hostel: it was a big free level building with several sections. Dozens of students from all over the world lived in this place: Indians, Latinos, guys from Saudi Arabia, Russian chicks, several guys from Europe etc. Actually, it was very international community, where everybody was rushing somewhere, where different speeches were heard almost in every corner. It should be noted that rules of habitation were strict and rigorous, and guys were not permitted to live in a girls’ rooms.. ‘You haven’t seen your hair yet.’ Oh, that really didn’t sound good. My jaw tightened. I looked at the tech. ‘Do I want to see it, hair dresser guy?’ ‘My name is Roadkill. And I doubt you want to see it,’ he said cheerfully. He pressed a button. ‘I’m moving the mirror into place for you.’ A full-length mirror slid out from the station and rotated into place directly in front of me. And Roadkill had been right. I looked at my image with widened eyes. My brown hair was gone. It was now a bright. . I might stick around longer.B. If I did it better than other men had 'done' her, she would do likewise!C. She was too horny not to fuck someone and I was handy!The two orgasms that night for each of us in rather rapid succession and... well, I'm still hanging around this many years later! I am continuing to bird dog her lovable, delectable tail... plus all the rest of her!Happily she is still hanging around as well. (Always eager to see what 'comes' up next.)The fact is, she's hanging around.