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The man lived to screw pussy, and his life was a continuing search for the next one lucky enough to receive the blessings of his eveready manhood.He was 51 now and, sexually speaking, was enjoying a very well-serviced bachelorhood.His job, and the convenience of living in the Administrator's Residence on The Home's grounds, allowed him to keep his cock in fighting trim, with very little effort required on his part to find suitable docking stations for it.
Apparently her father's way of proving he was still young at heart was to make sexual advances on any females at The Home who couldn't move faster than he could.
Author's Note: I've called the seniors' retirement community in this story simply The Home, a name that I didn't want to use because of its connotations of involuntary confinement of the mentally unfortunate. _______________________ It hadn't been easy, but Liza had managed to get Will, her aging father, to move from his in-town apartment to the pleasantly rural seniors' community where he now lived. At age 76, Will's health was still very good, and his mind reasonably clear and sharp, but Liza was becoming concerned about him nonetheless.
But I was afraid that if I called it by any appropriate name that might occur to me - The Oaks, Sunshine Acres, Leisure Lodge, etc. He was having moments of absentmindedness, and was now prone to the kind of minor mishaps that result in superficial cuts, bruises, and burns.
Most of the residents didn't like him, and most of the staff people feared him.
He demanded prim and proper behavior from the residents, while practicing a hedonistic and profligate lifestyle himself.