1. Happy New Year


    Date: 3/31/2017, Categories: Mature, Author: OldGeezer, Rating: 19, Source: LushStories

    It was New Year’s Eve, and despite my reservations, I had ended up at a party to see the New Year in. Ever since my wife of thirty years marriage had died, I hated New Year’s Eve. We had always been the ones to host the celebration of saying goodbye to the old year and welcoming in the new. So this night in particular brought back memories in a way that I had thought I had long since got over. I had really, and had moved on in my life, even having had a number of dates in the last couple of years, and on a few occasions, had the delights of making love once more. I’m not over-sentimental, and of course each time it happened it was different, but I had expected it to be, so no issues there. I usually refused to go to parties now on this inauspicious day, but my best friend and his wife were so insistent that it would have been very churlish to have refused. So I set off, a bunch of flowers in my hand for my hostess, and a bottle of fifteen year old scotch in the other for my host. Fortunately the house of my friends was within walking distance, and I arrived a little after 8:00 pm, the weather being pleasantly benign for this time of year. I knocked on the door and Jenny answered it, a quick hug and kiss as I entered, and the required “ooh” and another kiss when I gave her the flowers. Geoff, her husband, came out of the kitchen also to greet me and his eyes lit up when he saw the bottle that I had brought. I told him to keep it for later, it was better than champagne, so ...
    would be a good midnight toast. Then it was into the mass of people already there. Some I knew as they also lived nearby, and some I didn’t. Most were couples, a few unattached men and a few women also, and we made the usual small talk that goes on at such parties. Jenny had somehow pressed her 15 yr old daughter into waitress service, so the drink and snacks kept flowing. I stuck to beer at this stage of the evening, and I was glad to be able to request adequate supplies of Speckled Hen, my favourite draught bitter, though these were bottled and a little different, but still good. About 11:00, Geoff cleared some of the small tables away, creating a space in the centre of their large lunge, and pushed the sofas back against the walls, so that people could dance. This was the last straw in my book, and though I hadn’t really had enough to drink to bring on the real miseries, this reminded me so much of the parties of old that I wandered into the kitchen and found the bottle of scotch that I had brought, still unopened on the counter. I grabbed a cut glass tumbler and poured myself a hefty measure, and was just about to take a first sip when a voice asked me to pour another one. I turned round to find myself being addressed by a somewhat glamorous lady. My first impression was of someone blonde, blue eyed, with a good figure and a smile that lit her up. It was the smile really that registered, and I found myself telling her that it was good to find someone who appreciated a good ...
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