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“Can I help?” I asked. “No, you might want to take off that shirt, though. Just go out that door to your right and you can wash up. I’ll see what I can do to mend that.” I slipped it easily off and put it on the chair while she cut mature hoes the fresh bread and made our free pictures old women sandwiches. I found the washroom, clearly a former closet that was converted with the advent of indoor plumbing. Standing in the mirror, I drew the hot scalding water and mixed it with the cold, the unexpected pressure splashing up from the low sink and splashing mature erotica my shorts. “What the hell,” I thought, “I am already wet from free pictures old women the river, and maybe it’ll hide the precum I can feel oozing from my tip.” I looked at my chest and shoulders, the dense muscles a bit padded perhaps with age and comfort, but flexed and strong nonetheless. The free pics of mature women scratches were superficial for the most part, but a couple were pretty deep and began bleeding again as free pictures old women scrubbed them clean with soap. I didn’t want to stain her thick white towels, so I dabbed as much as I could with tissue until the bleeding slowed. Disinfect, debride, and direct mature adult pressure. My years as a medic in the Army came in handy so often. I was startled by a light knock as the door opened. “Oh, sorry, I thought you might want some help,” she said, as the half-opened door swung wider. Maybe it was my imagination but she seemed to gaze nonude mature ladies my torso with more than just neighborly concern. “Come on back to the kitchen, I have something to put on that” she said, and I followed her again. My aching member and damp pants made walking a bit uncomfortable. “Here” she said, opening a cabinet and pulling out a blue jar filled with clear liquid. “I keep this for mostly medicinal purposes,” she laughed. She filled two crystal glasses about halfway, then poured a bit more into a bowl, then put the jar away. “I guess you Northerners would call this moonshine,” she said, “But it’s good medicine both for the insides AND outside.” “To health!” she said, and we raised and touched glasses. I thought I caught a glint in her eye as, following her example, I tossed back the clear liquid. My mouth, throat, and stomach were on fire immediately. That stuff had to be pure alcohol! I tried not to sputter or choke and was fairly successful, though she laughed aloud at my reaction. “A bit strong for a city boy?” she asked, teasingly. Wow, what an understatement. My whole body seemed to warm and flush with heat as the burning subsided. “No, it was good!” I lied, trying to maintain my composure.

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