Memories of The Past Come to My Mind Chapter 3 part 1 of 3

Memories of The Past Come to My Mind
Chapter 3 part 1 of 3

LANA (Fact...)

I met Lana a few years ago, whilst working as a musician in a mountain resort hotel.

It was mid-summer and a very quiet time for the hotel, during the week, but at the weekends, weekend ramblers and small conferences booked the place.

I was employed as a resident pianist and as such I would perform in the bar.

This particular Friday night, the hotel was about a quarter full, mostly from a conference of farm equipment salespeople. I was told to expect a busy night as these guys like to drink, or so I was told.

Quite the opposite. It appeared that due to them having an early meeting, the following day, plus the extortionate price of alcohol being sold by the hotel, most of them had dinner, drank their coffee and brandies, which were all part of the dinner package, after which they went to bed.

This left me with a few guests that were the ramblers. Even they only stayed for an hour after dinner, leaving me almost alone, except for a middle-aged woman, I found out, was called Lana.

Lana was a woman in her early sixties. Her hair was cut short to the neck and greying in color. She styled it with a parting on the right and by her complexion, she wore little or no makeup. Her eyes were a piercing ice blue color, and she was dressed in khaki green cargo pants and a blue blouse over which she wore a tweed jacket.

She approached me, after the last guest retired for the night, and asked if she could sit at the piano.

There were stools already in place for guests to sit on and so I told her that it was fine.

I played a few more songs and when the bartender started closing, I decided to quit for the night.

As she rose from her stool, I noticed that she was small. I guessed them to be about a B cup. She turned around and bent to pick up her handbag and I admired the way her trousers split her butt cheeks and hugged her twin moons so nicely.

I must admit to a penchant for older women.

She asked me if I would be playing the following night and I joked, "Same bat time, same bat channel."

I grew up watching the 60's Batman series, with Adam West as Batman and this was always stated at the end of each episode.

I bid Lana goodnight and went to bed.

As I lay there, I found myself thinking about this woman. Lana had been the only person who had taken an interest in my music and myself all night. Okay, she was older than me and as far as looks went, she wasn't stunning. But she did have a pleasant personality, I thought, I could have maybe chatted longer and who knows what that might have led to. Then I started to ask myself, could I see myself sleeping with this woman?

I brushed all thoughts out of my mind and went to sleep.

The following night, Lana had taken up prime position at the piano and no one else was remotely interested in my music.

Lana became my audience.

I sang for only her. I chatted to her between songs and even made her laugh with my corny jokes. I noticed that when she smiled, her eyes seemed to twinkle.

One by one, the guests went to bed, and I was expecting Lana to follow but she stayed where she was and seemed genuinely interested in me, not just my music.

When the bartender started to close, I played one final love song and sang it directly to her. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but she seemed to be drinking it all in and never took her eyes off me.

The bartender said that he had a party to go to and was gone, leaving Lana and I alone.

I gathered my gear together, lyric books and music player and sat on the stool at the piano, opposite Lana.

"So, Lana," I started. "What brings you to this remote, out of the way place?"

She explained that she was a drama teacher and was helping with a course at a community center in the next town. The hotels in that town were full due to a music festival and this hotel was the only one with a free room.

"To be honest," she said. "I am glad I stayed here, otherwise I would never have had the pleasure of meeting you."

I was flattered and a little embarrassed.

We talked for an hour about life, and she told me that she had been married but he left her for a younger model, ten years previously. She asked me if I was married, and I explained that I was divorced but had been in a long-term relationship for the last 15 years.

I am not sure why I divulged the next bit of information, but if my "common-law" wife ever found out, I would be very a single man again.

The subject of sex came up. I am at loss to remember why but I remember her telling me that one of the reasons why her husband left her was because she had a hysterectomy operation, due to the doctor’s finding cancer in her cervix. One of the side effects of the operation was a drop in her libido.

"He just couldn't handle it," she explained. "When he wanted sex, I just wasn't interested."

She went onto explain that her husband admitted, after the divorce, to having a string of affairs and blamed her for him doing do.

"I was incandescent after he told me. “She said. "But there was silver lining and a bitter irony to this story."

She explained that she sorts advice with her doctor who diagnosed her with a low metabolism. She told me that she must take drugs every morning for the rest of her life, but the upside is that her libido has returned to its normal level.

"What bitter irony," I asked.

"My deadbeat ex is a single man again," she answered, quite gleefully. "It seems that when you find a younger model, you have to make sure that can keep with her."

Her story about the operation, the low metabolism and the resulting low sex drive hit a nerve with me.

My wife had suffered almost an exact copy of what Lana had gone through. The difference being that the doctor's had never been quite able to get the drug dosage correct, and her metabolism was all over the place. Her libido was through the floor. We had sex maybe once every six months, if we were lucky.

If we went on vacation, I might get lucky then and we'd have sex once or twice.

I found myself telling Lana this.

I even explained that my wife hated the scar that had been left behind as result of the operation.

"You mean like this," she said and lifted her blouse, exposing the bottom portion of her breasts and her entire torso.

I couldn't help but look, but I wasn't looking at her scar, but the small portion of bar covered breast.

Oddly enough, I felt my cock twitch its approval.

We talked more about other things and realized that it was getting late.

I had to be up early the following morning because I was leaving for home and had a train to catch.

Plus, I hadn't finished packing.

"I can be a gentleman and walk you to your room, if you would allow me," I said to Lana.

She agreed.


To be continued