Regrets, I've Had A Few

There are only two kinds of regrets; regrets for things you?ve done, of course, but also for things you could have done but didn?t, for whatever reason.You might regret any number of things you?ve done; foolish, painful, or hurtful things, or maybe things that have cost you a lot of money or much of your dignity or both. Possibly impulsive things you simply didn?t think through ahead of time, or that ended other than as you might have imagined, or even just mental coin-flip decisions that came up tails when heads might have brought the better outcome.So, yes, the Type One Regret is about the things you?ve done - that late-night chimichanga from a disreputable-looking food truck; the bet that you could down an entire pitcher of beer in under thirty seconds while never anticipating the possibility of a disastrous rebound; the night of wild, drunken, animal sex with a woman you knew was married to a very large, jealous, and short-tempered man; perhaps buying that shiny new Yugo? Those kinds of things. Not that I?ve ever done any of those, you understand; those are merely hypotheticals.Still, what?s done is done, and while you might look back on it and shake your head and wonder, or maybe laugh at your mistakes, they ordinarily don?t live on to haunt you and cause you grief. They?re entirely behind you.The Type Two Regret, the other variety, the kind that lingers and creates doubts and makes you continually wonder what might have been, is the regret you feel for the things you didn?t do. I don?t have too many of those because I?d always been eager to collect the other type instead; of the former variety, I have many, which leaves a relative few for the latter category. Nonetheless, there are some.I regret not thru-hiking the length of the Pacific Crest, Continental Divide, and Appalachian Trails when I was still young and fit and had the freedom to do so; I regret not somehow scraping together the $7,500 needed to buy a new Shelby Cobra 427 back in the mid-sixties when Carroll Shelby was building them, a pristine model of which recently sold for almost six million dollars at auction. I regret turning down what might have been my dream job to take one that paid more, but which had ultimately turned out to be entirely despicable.Of all the things I regret not doing, however, perhaps I regret not doing Bobbie Jo Kaminski the most.Bobbie Jo ? or BJ, as she was called, not entirely because those are her initials ? was a half-Polish, half-Swedish milkmaid of a girl from my high school and college days. Statuesque ? by which I mean tall, curvy, solidly built and possessed of an ample, plush ass and a pair of enormous hooters, featuring prominent and perpetually eagerly erect nipples - BJ was the subject of many a masturbatory fantasy and the proximate cause of many a wet dream among the teenaged male set of my youth.Also, according to abundant rumors and a few willingly-posed-for Polaroids, for many of my peers in our adolescent years, she was much more than mere fantasy or masturbation fodder. That body, combined with her big blue eyes, long blond hair, soft full lips, teasing laugh, and a voice likely to stiffen any dick within earshot seemed to buy her access to virtually any young, horny male ? which was all of us, so she could afford to be choosy.Not that she was, particularly, but she could afford to be. Legend had it that she provided many a young man with his first non-solo sexual experience of one sort or another. Unfortunately for me, and despite her benevolent and magnanimous promiscuity, I was never the beneficiary of her sexual largesse because she and I had a love/hate relationship: I loved her, but she hated me.To this day I?m not entirely sure why, but every time I tried to get close to her, to express my love, adoration, and, of course, eager, cock-throbbing lust, it came out wrong. It came out as teasing or critical, crude or sarcastic, other times probably desperate, occasionally as clumsy and incoherent when the blood had drained from my brain to my other equally infatuated organ. She seemed to think I was cruel and picking on her, an utter moron, or both, bahis şirketleri and I believe it got to where she could barely stand the sight of me ? other than the one time when she saw me stark naked. But more on that later.It remained that way through high school and a year and a half of college, and then we went our separate ways, my love and my lust both unrequited and not tapping Bobbie Jo a seemingly permanent addition to my list of life?s serious regretsIn any event, you could have knocked me over with a feather when, some decades later, I was waiting in line at the pharmacy and heard my name called out, and when I turned, it was her! BJ? I recognized her immediately ? the full, lush figure, softer and more full and voluptuous than ever and her unambiguous heat and sexuality much the same - but also by her blue eyes and full, sensuous lips? and that sultry voice, of course! Her hair had gone from golden-blond to silver-blond (while my own, fortunately still present, had gone mostly white) but she still wore hers long, pulled back in a ponytail.?Bobbie Jo, is that you? My god, you look magnificent!??Don?t start by lying to me, Harold!??No, you do! Seriously, Bobbie Jo, you look great. Wonderful.? Already I was doing better than I ever had as a youth.She smiled. ?Well, okay then, and thank you. You look good too ? and you can still call me BJ, and for the same reasons??I laughed. ?Ah! Good to know; please call me Hal. So, how have you been???Oh, good, I guess. Other than my cholesterol, which is why I?m here at the pharmacy. You???I?m, uh, blood pressure. You know. I?m here for my blood pressure medicine.? I wasn?t, my blood pressure is fine; I was there for my Viagra prescription. I don?t need it often because opportunities to use it are few and far between, but when the opportunity does arise I?d like to be certain that I do as well. I wasn?t about to tell her that, however.She laughed. ?I wasn?t prying into your medical history, Hal. I meant how have you been, not why are you here.?Oh. Ha, well, fine I suppose ? other than the BP thing, of course.??Of course. Hal, I think it?s your turn.??I beg your pardon?? Coming from BJ, that phrase had made both my heart and my libido surge!She merely smiled knowingly and nodded toward the pharmacy counter.Sure enough, the window was vacant and I was next in line. Feeling foolish, I stepped forward, hopeful as always that the pharmacist would not enter into a long, loud discussion about ED medications; this time, with BJ standing right there, I had an added incentive to keep my embarrassing ?old man/limp penis? issues under wraps.She ? the pharmacist, a beautiful young woman, of course ? kept it discreet, quietly asking if I had any questions about the medication or its uses or possible side effects. Blushing, I assured her that I didn?t, paid, and slipped the small bottle quietly into my jacket pocket, refusing a bag.BJ asked me to wait while she picked up her cholesterol meds, and then we walked outside and stood in front of the store chatting for a spell, catching up. She?d been married twice and divorced an equal number of times, both times for infidelity ? hers the first time, his the second ? and had recently returned to town, now happily single.I?d lost my first wife to cancer when in our fifties and in my fog of grief had married foolishly on the rebound just a little over a year later, soon realized my mistake and promptly corrected it, and was thus also currently single; mostly happily, although a fuller, more active and frequent sex life would have been welcome.I?ll admit that it was a thought that was ever-present in my mind as I chatted with BJ. She still had ?it?, perhaps more than ever; I defy any straight male of any age to spend more than a few minutes in her presence without thoughts of sex entering the equation, so I didn?t chastise myself for my lewd thoughts.Instead, I asked her out to dinner. She accepted, and, although she looked spectacular, insisted on going home to change. I was okay in my slacks, sport shirt, and jacket, more than adequately dressed for the place I had in mind, so she bahis firmaları invited me to follow her home so that we could then ride to the restaurant together. I did so, following her to a small, Craftsman-style bungalow and waiting in her living room while she ?freshened up?.She?d left me with a cold beer and a partially-open bedroom door down the hall through which we could converse, and through which I would catch an occasional glimpse of BJ in various stages of undress. I had no illusions that the angle was an accident or that she was unaware of my voyeurism; I was a little embarrassed that I seemed unable to not look but was unsurprised that I had a burgeoning erection even absent any chemical assist. BJ had always had that effect on me, even at a distance.When she returned she was in a soft, trim, dusty-blue dress that ended at her knees. It was low-cut and displayed her considerable décolletage to best advantage, and she was conspicuously and magnificently braless, her big nipples right there saying ?howdy?. I don?t know if she thought she read appreciation or skepticism on my face, but she seemed to feel compelled to explain ? and, in BJ fashion, she was customarily blunt.?Yes, before you ask, that?s all me, home-grown and certified, but I did have a bit of a professional boost done a few years ago - we are sixty-nine years old, after all! You always were one to drool over my tits; what do you think???I, um, well? I think I should probably wear a bib! You are as gorgeous and sexy as you ever were, BJ, and whoever did your work is an artist.??Why, thank you!? She smiled, twirled, and performed a low curtsy, during which I caught a glimpse of stocking top and garter. ?You were never this much of a gentleman when we were younger.??In my defense, I tried! I always seemed to get tongue-tied for some reason.?She laughed. ?I realized that some years later. I always thought you were simply an asshole, but after I saw you naked I spent a lot of time thinking about you, and I figured it out.??Ugh, don?t remind me! Not one of my finer moments. You left soon after that; I thought I?d scared you off.??On the contrary! Given what I?d seen, it was one of my biggest regrets about leaving, but the semester ended and I?d enrolled elsewhere for the following one.??Well, that eases my mind.? Trying to turn the conversation anywhere else, I said, ?Shall we go??We did, and I drove to The Crestwood, a fancy older restaurant that was all that was left of what had, in our youth, been a fine old country club, but which was now a single building, incorporated into the commercial edge of a suburban neighborhood. I saw the young valet look askance at my meticulously restored ?67 Impala, although I think he liked the rumble of the big V8 and the custom-tuned exhaust, and I noticed his eyes shift, vibrate, and then lock on as he watched BJ slide out of the big front seat. I couldn?t determine if he was looking down her top or up her skirt; either way, he had to adjust himself as he circled the car to drive it away.Inside, we went to the bar just long enough for one cocktail before being shown to our table, a secluded ?U?-shaped booth where the waiter pulled the table out as we slid in. To my surprise, BJ chose the bottom of the ?U? so that she was seated alongside me rather than across. We ordered another drink and an appetizer and were then left alone, whereupon BJ, like a dog with a bone, picked up where she?d left off. ?So, how did you come to be naked at a football game with sixty-thousand people in attendance???Oh? Lord, I was so hoping you?d forgotten that!?She laughed. ?No chance of that! Tell me.??First, you tell me what you ?figured out? about me after seeing me that night.?She smiled. ?Oh, Hal, that?s an easy one! I figured out why your brain ceased functioning around me given the blood volume required elsewhere, of course, and that you weren?t being a thoughtless putz on purpose! Once I did, I was quite flattered by your buffoonery.?I was blushing, but her typically frank comment made me laugh. ?Ah, okay? and thanks, I think. And yes, that?s what I finally attributed it kaçak bahis siteleri to as well.??Now, tell me how it came about that I was fortunate enough to witness you in all your glory.?I sighed. ?God. You and everyone else! It was our sophomore year and I was pledging a frat. It was the last game of the season, so it was then or never. They?d convinced me streaking the sideline at halftime was a part of the hazing and initiation - which, of course, it wasn?t ? and then they blocked the exit at the far end, where I was supposed to run out of the stadium and get into a waiting car? fucking frat brothers! I?d have gotten away with it otherwise, but when you have to circle the entire field with security on your tail? well, you saw the result.??Indeed I did ? and ooh-la-la, if I may say so!?I laughed. ?Thanks ? a date that will live in infamy. Thank God, it was only a misdemeanor and a fifty-dollar fine back then; today, I?d end up on some sex crime registry or something. It was the one time I got a smile out of you, if I recall, standing there by the railing as they perp-walked me past.??What?s not to smile? You, stark naked except for your shoes, a big, beefy security guard on each arm, everyone laughing and pointing. You have to remember, I thought you hated me and so I hated you too, so I thought it was hilarious.??Thanks a lot! Good to know you enjoyed my humiliation and stupidity.??But also, I was quite impressed! You might have outrun them if you didn?t have that big thing flopping around down there.?I felt myself blushing again, but I laughed. ?God? and remember, it was also very cold out.??Oh, I remember, and I took that into account. Tell me, do you still possess that particular attribute???Which one, stupidity or the other thing???The other.? She smiled.I nodded. ?Yeah, you?re pretty much assigned one at birth and, barring anything calamitous, it stays with you from that point onward.?She laughed. ?So that?s the way that works ? and, speaking of which, does it still work?? She put her hand high up on my thigh, and before I could formulate an answer, she?d found the long ridge of my cock along my right thigh, where it hangs when I?m wearing boxers, and wrapped her fingers over it.I was once again tongue-tied, as I had been in my youth, and I remained that way as the waiter delivered our drinks and appetizer and she continued to gently squeeze and fondle me as she made small talk with him.Once he?d departed, I hissed, ?Jesus, BJ! Are you trying to get me arrested again???Oh relax, Hal! He can?t see through the table and tablecloth. And never mind my question; I can feel that it still seems to work.?It did, mostly. Oh, it doesn?t pop up like a Jack-in-the-Box anymore; now it was more like an old car jack instead, hoisting up a heavy vehicle one slow click at a time, a much more gradual process. I would eventually get fairly hard ? again, not like my younger days, but serviceable ? but for me, the embarrassing danger lay in not remaining that way for the duration. Hence, the pills.?Yes, BJ, it works. For the most part???For the most part???Well, you know?? I shrugged. ?As you said, we?re not youngsters anymore.??Perhaps you should take one of these, you think?? She held up a small blue tablet, trapped between the long nails of her thumb and index finger.?I, uh? what?? I know I blushed and that I subconsciously reached down and patted my jacket pocket, where my pill bottle, now missing, had once been.She laughed. ?Yes, it?s one of yours. I picked your pocket.??Jesus, BJ! I can?t believe you did that. That?s terribly embarrassing!??Hal, you?re missing the big picture; what I?m trying to tell you is that you?re going to get laid tonight.??Oh. Well, yes, that does ease the pain a good deal.? I smiled. ?Sorry I lied to you about the BP meds, but you understand.??I do ? and you truly didn?t. Technically, these are a blood pressure medication, although they?re for raising it in a certain part of your anatomy rather than lowering it elsewhere.? As I laughed at her analysis, she raised her hand and poised it in front of my lips. ?Open ? and Hal, I know that neither one of us is a kid anymore. It?s all right.?So I did, and she popped the pill in my mouth. I washed it down with a swig of my Manhattan; not a recommended procedure, but it worked. She watched me swallow, then said, ?Is one enough??