A few months ago, an old colleague asked me to look after the running of his pub while he went on a world cruise, his honeymoon. This was no problem as I was retired and had a fair knowledge of the trade from past involvement with a yacht club.
Having no other commitments, I was very pleased to have a diversion for a few weeks. It was a not very impressive house on one of the streets leading into town, neither a town centre nor an estate pub. Other than Friday and Saturday nights, one barmaid was sufficient although I did have to pull the odd pint if they got busy.
There were a total of seven girls working various sessions but my story concerns Britney who worked evenings Sundays thru to Thursdays. She was twenty-two years old and a very attractive brunette worn straight and long. She made a good barmaid being very intelligent and friendly and would have a conversation with any type of customer. I suppose you could have called her the perfect barmaid if she had dressed in a way that showed her shapely figure to more advantage.
During my first week there, we often had lengthy chats, as I said she could talk to anyone. I did not get any details about her personal life other than she was 'sort of' engaged to a boy she had been with since meeting at school. He was, apparently, going around the world 'to find himself' and she had no idea when he would get back. She still lived at home with her elderly parents, no brothers, or sisters.
I noticed she laughed off several attempts to hit on her, some crude some more subtle but all got the same brush off. On the Thursday, she was talking to the only customer, a real pain in the ass although she was putting up with him. I got out the way and sat in the office, next to the serving area, and concentrated on writing another erotic story on my laptop.
It was still early and I did not notice any other customers come in and after a while, Britney stuck her head in and asked me to go to the cellar and change one of the barrels. This only took me a few minutes coming back upstairs, I saw that she was reading my story. I did not make my presence known for as long as I could realistically take changing one barrel. I finally approached her and said, "Find anything of interest?"
The poor girl jumped out of her skin and nearly tipped over the desk jumping up, her face had turned bright red with embarrassment. "Oh! I am sorry that was very rude of me, I just caught a glimpse of what it was, and then started to read it, sorry." With that she, shot back to the still deserted bar and started filling the glass washer.
She was still looking very flustered but just then three customers came in and she got busy serving them. For the rest of the evening there was a steady stream of customers, Thursday was her busiest night and I did not get the opportunity to say anything to her. The times we did have contact she was friendly enough but her face did colour up on several occasions.
After we had cleared up the bar and she was on the way out the door I passed her a slip of paper saying, "I think you know me well enough not to think I am some sort of pervert, I just get my kicks writing fiction. Here is the web site address where some of my stories are posted, my favourite is 'We own a legal Brothel', you can have a read over the weekend. Please remember, it's just fantasy, don't be embarrassed reading it or for that matter scared of me."
She took the address and very quietly wished me goodnight and left. I was quite busy over the weekend and had virtually forgotten the episode until the Sunday lunchtime session when I remembered it. I hoped she would not still be embarrassed when she came in later because of all the girls she was the only one that I really liked.
I was very surprised when Britney turned up for her shift, not only was she earlier than usual, she was dressed much better than I had previously noticed. Her usual jeans seemed considerably tighter around her bum than previous, although this could have been down to the heels she was wearing. A silky blue blouse, with several buttons undone displayed a nice bit of cleavage obviously helped by a black bra.
I had thought before that it was only her dress that detracted from her character to achieve the perfect barmaid persona. Standing in front of me was indeed the perfect barmaid, even down to a welcoming smile. I quickly considered three different responses, the first was to grab her throw her over the pool table and have sex. This one I discounted apart from the obvious reason; I was also far too old for her.
The next option was to tell her how fabulous she looked, the third, which I took, was to shut up and wait and see what she said. "Hello Ron," she then gave a twirl, "I see you like the look, are you lost for words?"
"I always thought you looked very attractive, but tonight you look downright sexy, you will have to fight off the customers tonight."
Her face did colour up a little as she walked behind the bar and said, "Maybe I don't want to fight them off. If you would like to buy your staff a bottle of vodka ice we have twenty minutes for a candid chat." While I got her a bottle and pulled myself a lager, I was watching this lovely young body stretching to open the bar shutters, very nice. We went and sat down at one of the tables, she was being very friendly, but I was intrigued what she wanted to talk about.
"I know I have only known you a week, but I find you a very nice guy and feel I can talk to you so easily. After I read your story, I did read all the chapters - twice, I was feeling so frustrated that I plucked up the courage to talk to you now."
I just smiled at her and said "I assure you that it does not need courage to talk to me, if you need an ear, or shoulder to cry on carry on please."
She took a deep breath "My story, from the beginning, Tom and I were together most of the way through school and just seemed to slip naturally into a girl friend boy friend thing. We were both always together and somehow, I honestly cannot remember how we agreed on no sex before marriage. The only time we got anywhere near was giving each other an orgasm with mutual oral after a practically boozy night."
Nearly everyone else at school seemed to be well at it around fifteen or sixteen years old, some earlier and I tried to change 'our' agreement on several occasions. He did get three hand jobs from me but did not even return the favour. Don't get me wrong I expect when he finally comes home we will probably marry and live happily ever after."
I could only sit there sipping my beer and listening, which is what was required I assumed.
She continued, "I am now twenty two years old, and still a virgin and quite frankly very frustrated. Over the years I have, literally, worn out several dildos – difficult as I live with my parents. Well, your stories seem to have brought my frustrations to the very top of my mind, even now out in the open."
I had to jump in there. "Sorry Britney, the real Ron is not into pimping although if I were I am sure we could make a fortune with your body."