Not that dying was going to be very hard, Bill Carter thought with a weak thread of his old humor. Easier than dressing, at least. Pain hampering ever... move in his hands and wrists, he managed to zip and button his heavy parka. A thick wool cap was forced over his head and ears, and he pulled the hood of his coat over it all. He eyed his boots with a malevolent glare, then bent down to force them over his numb feet.Lastly, the gloves. Using his teeth to aid his clumsy, frozen fingers, he pulled. "Uh, yes, Ma'am, I am aware of that. Just airing out, that's all!" Lucille (the blue-haired matriarch) asked, "Why are you showing your stuff?" No fooling her - she didn't buy the "airing out" comment."Well, Lucille - may I call you Lucille - it's this way. I'm a middle-aged guy exploring myself and my sexual identity. Flashing is simply a way to do it! I apologize you had to see it!" Young man, don't be sorry. I haven't seen a cock since my husband died 13 years ago. It's a welcome sight. How. More

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