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Reality often is not the way you imagined it to be.
Lo and I had planned a winter getaway vacation for months. When the snow, wind, and cold was going to be bearing down on our little hamlet, we would be miles away shoveling sand on the beach into sand castles rather than snow from the driveway.
Part of this planning included a jaunt to a well-known nude beach close to our vacation bungalow. It also included many nights of whispered fantasies that concluded with climatic, powerful orgasms (both of the imaginary, young, well-hung men watching Lo and of Lo in the bed, her eyes closed, calling out swears to the Lord).
When the blessed day finally came and the sun was gloriously rising in the blue and pink sky, we set our course for the illusive oasis.
We got there at prime tanning time and Lo was eager to get her toes in the sand.
However, as we walked along the strand something strange occurred to us. Rather than the hunky hung men and the lovely, voluptuous ladies of our conjoined conjurings, what we found was mostly old people proudly baring all of their wrinkled, sagging, shrunken, small, grey body parts to the world. Maybe it was because it was a…