Assisted Living

This one is all Nilla’s fault, and I’m sticking to this story!

~*~*~*

“Have you seen Mrs. Townson?”

“You mean Agnes? Five foot nothing? Dirty sense of humor and long gray braids?” asked the second staff nurse at the assisted living home.

“Yeah, that’s her. I went to see how she was as I hadn’t seen her all day. Her apartment is empty.”

“Well, did she have visitors? Go on one of the day trips?” Betsy began to look through the travel roster. As the Village was assisted living, not a nursing home, people could come and go as they pleased. She always thought of the place as a fancy hotel with rather old clients.

“I’m not seeing anything. Guess I should check around. Does she have anyone she hangs out with?”

Betsy thought for a moment. “Ummm, sometimes she visits Ms. Greene up on the third floor, and then there’s her ‘boyfriend’.”

“Boyfriend?” Nancy was totally puzzled. “Who are you talking about?”

“Jerry Greene. He’s on 2NW. Apartment 69. He’s been here about a month, and the two of them gravitated to each other.

“Betsy, you don’t think?” Nancy started.

Betsy laughed. “If either one of them is up to it, more power to them!”

“Should… should I check?” Nancy wasn’t sure how she stood on the idea of old people having sex. She was 36, and barely had time for a quickie once a week. The thought of two people in their 80’s having sex was just… so wrong!

“Yeah. Can’t hurt. We do need to find her before dark.” Betsy smiled and headed off to the cafeteria.

 

Nancy walked down the hall, and took the elevator to the second floor. When she got to his door, she listened for a minute and didn’t hear anything. The last thing she wanted was to interrupt people. It would be so embarrassing. There was no noise except for some classical music. She knocked.

“Chust a minute!” came a voice from the other side of the door.

Nancy waited. She knew old people moved slowly, but she was about to knock again when the door opened. Mr. Greene stood there in his bathrobe with black slippers on his feet.

“Yes?”

“Oh. Mr. Greene, did I interrupt a nap?”

“Why yes. What do you need?”

“Well, um… we can’t seem to find Mrs. Townson. Have you seen her?”

Mr. Greene smiled. “Why yes. At breakfast and a leetle after.”

“Oh, alright. If… if you see her again before supper, let her know that Betsy is looking for her.” Nancy went a bit pink, as the look Mr. Greene gave her made her nervous. Embarrassed.

“I certainly will. Good bye.” He stepped back into the apartment and shut the door.

Not knowing what else to do, Nancy headed back downstairs.

 

Mr. Greene walked back into the bedroom and shed his bathrobe. Underneath it, he wore black leather trousers, a leather vest and nothing else. He pulled the half mask back over his face and picked the small leather strap out from under the bed. He opened the closet. Agnes hung from a St. Andrew’s cross fitted into the closet. She turned to look at him, a ball gag filled her mouth.

“They’re looking for you Agnes. I sent them off.”

She nodded and braced for the strap to land on her ass.

“Now where were we?” he asked. “Ah yes. Twenty-three!” He swung the strap, which added to the pattern of bruises on Agnes’ ass. Juices flowed down her wrinkled thighs and his erection bulged beneath his leather trousers.

She moaned with passion.

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