Sex and the Married Ball Player

Comets Story 12, but don’t look for photos!

With Don’s first season as a Comet now history, we felt we could stay in Normandy for the next few months. As a result, we decided to give our bank account a much-needed boost and rent out our Paris apartment.

About two minutes after we did, Don was invited to play in a regional baseball tournament in Paris.

“Oh great,” said Don. “We’ll use up all our rent money on a hotel.”

“Why don’t we call John?” I responded.

Our friend John, on turning 60, decided to move into a seniors’ apartment. “It’s small,” he told us, “but the place is really well-equipped. There’s a nurse on duty 24 hours a day and emergency buttons everywhere. Plus there’s a restaurant and even a B&B on the premises so I can still have my family and friends visit.”

When we asked if we could use his B&B, John said “no problem. I’ve got an appointment that afternoon, but I’ll make all the arrangements, and we can have dinner together later. All you’ll have to do is get the key at the front desk, just like at a hotel.”

It is, no doubt, a universal truth that hotel rooms stimulate the libido. The same holds true for cozy B &B rooms, we discovered.

Our room had two single beds separated by the width of the room. We locked the door, picked one of the beds and, shall we say, got busy.

Unfortunately we had forgotten those emergency buttons, and in our activity Don’s foot had managed to hit one. It may as well have been a death knell, for it certainly killed all our plans for the afternoon. There was a pounding at our door and concerned voices asking if we were okay.

“We’re fine. We just hit the button accidentally. So sorry.”

We could hear the feet scurrying away, and we burst out laughing.

We never did tell John, and Don played well in the tournament.

— Petie