After 60 one gets one’s pleasures where one can. A basket of white peaches, a bowl of claret-coloured gooseberries, the pop of the fat pod of a pea. Or a rather fine, dusky young man, emerging from the bushes in the park, stark naked, one hand waving, the other wanking.

Margery has been to stay, which is always fun. We talk about ageing and laugh about the silliness of our youth. We were both beautiful then and now we are well- preserved, which is the best one can manage after 60. Sex is not something we talk much about any more, as there are so many other things more thrusting. Until yesterday in the park.

We were both feeling rather washed out, as the weather has been muggy of late and we were sitting on a  bench, talking I seem to remember, about gardening, when the incident took place. I saw him first. He was far enough away to be something of a challenge to focus on  properly, even with my prescription sunglasses.

” Is that man naked? “I said to Margery and she looked. For rather a long time I thought. Then she said, “What’s he doing?'” The movement was unambiguous, even if the details were, sadly, blurred. We watched for a while,  reflecting on the fact that neither of us seemed fazed by the event. How very different from our youth.

” He’s waving at you,'”said Margery, with a little more energy. We then had a little banter about why it should be me he was waving at, when we were sitting side by side. Then he turned and went back into the bushes and we reflected that perhaps we should call the police. But neither of us had brought our mobiles. At our age you don’t always think to take mobiles on walks, which is perhaps silly, as you never know when someone might flash you from the bushes.

After a while he reappeared and started the process all over again, with rather less energy , so we got up and went on our way. It seemed  to have been no more than a tiny ripple on our pond of communication, whereas long ago it would have been a drama. I did reflect later how lucky we’d been to have such a fit flasher. How generous the Universe can be with her gifts and how appreciative one becomes with age.


One response to “Sexagenarians

  1. That’s my damn butler again – I’ve told him so many times not to go in those bushes – you never know who you’ll meet!


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