Harvey strode along the promenade walk, to his right the grey green ocean broke onto the pebble beach, and on his left was the road. As he turned following the line of the shore, the road split leaving behind the terrace of Victorian sea front hotels opening up onto a view of a distant fairground, small pleasure gardens and a crazy golf course.
Despite the bright sun and the white galleons of cloud sailing across the perfect blue sky, the walk was almost empty aside from a few dog walkers. Winter mornings in an English seaside town, are only for locals and those who need the exercise. The wind that coloured his face was biting cold, it peppered his cheeks with spittles of spume from the rolling tide, mixed with sand and dust dried beyond the line of the tide.
Above the hotels, the guest houses, the cliff road rose, it was busy with cars heading into town, but here was peace, amongst the tired gaiety of the painted boarded shops, waiting for spring and the return of the visitors. Normally he would not be out of the house this early, he would be one of the cars, heading up onto the cliff road, but his daughter was down for a few days along with her new boyfriend. Which meant he just had to get out of the house.
When Harvey and Diane divorced it had been amicable, as amicable as these things can be. Diane a successful Lecturer in Psychology had enforced many house moves with her career, each of them, he learnt upon his separation had also sparked a liaison with one or more members of the teaching staff. The last move had been to the capital, and the liaison there became the relationship to split their marriage. Diane had met her equal, both in intellect, position and power. Harvey as a writer and artist, enjoyed the city as a diversion, but was not sad to leave it all behind just his wife and family.
The arrangement he and Diane made enabled him to buy a four bedroom house, with a converted loft that gave him wide views across to the sea and the surrounding countryside. Sadly part of that view had gone, when the developers arrived, he remembered the tirade of letters he wrote to newspapers, news programmes and his MP who just happened to be Diane's new partner. He was sympathetic, but progress could not be halted for the sake of a view. He could move, but then what guarantee would he have the same would not happen again. The house he had gave him what he wanted, somewhere for his children to escape to, whenever they wanted to leave London and the comfortable but crowded house in which they lived.
Harvey had the alternative, a place to come and be free, from congestion, pressure and noise. Oh yes noise. The reason why Harvey was striding out on his early morning walk in the biting cold when he could be at home reading the paper with hot coffee and toast was the noise. Harvey had two daughters and a son. All children you have hopes and ambitions for, sons become the surrogate for all the things you didn't achieve, all the opportunities you missed, the wild oats you didn't sow. Daughters, will always remain precious, someone to be loved, protected, and be proud of whatever they do. You do not want them to fall victim to the kind of rake, you had hoped to be yourself, you do not want them to be the sexual play thing of the young man you hope your son to be. No those girls are young women, they are never someone else's daughter.
So whilst he took pleasure in his daughter's visits, and the company of the young men they brought with them, he could not stay in the house, when the daughter woke to the not unwelcome amorous advances of her current young man. At first Harvey had tried ear plugs, he tried to carry on his normal existence not noticing the creaks, the bangs, the grunts, and the strange mewing sounds that came from behind closed doors. This had not worked, he found himself, ridiculously aggressive and angry towards the young men, who were often quite charming, intelligent and great company. The sort of lad you would spend an afternoon or evening talking to at a pub, or after dinner. To control his anger and protective instincts he now took long walks.
Of course it did not help that having moved his own sex life had not been rekindled with other ladies. He had not been totally without female company, but most of the women he met were looking for husbands, commitment, long term relationships, whilst to put it bluntly all he was looking for was a fuck. He had commitment, he had responsibilities, he had people he loved dearly, his family. In time perhaps there would be someone else, but right now, he needed the fresh air, that was biting into his clothes and keeping his ardour very much under control.
Amidst the line of boarded shop fronts, two were illuminated, their windows misty from condensation. The first was the newsagent and tobacconist; popular with walkers and early morning workers, the second was Rita's café. The long run of glass windows was adorned in red lettering spelling out its name. The old fluorescent lights threw a yellow cast to the light reflected through the glass. Steam rose from the back, sending the inviting smells of cooked bacon into the wind. The fragrance seemed to take away some of the chill, as Harvey approached what was his unofficial halfway point on his morning walk.
Harvey quickly stopped and bought a morning paper, the change of atmosphere blurring the vision from his glasses. The Asian lady behind the counter, counted out the change he proffered in his open palm, as payment and swiftly he moved on into the café. Here the aroma of warm toast, coffee and cooked bacon wrapped around his senses like a comforting blanket. Luckily the simple metal backed chairs were all covered in bright red vinyl, so Harvey was able to navigate by looking over his misted glasses towards a corner table by the window. He knew it would be colder there, but he still liked the misty view he could see of the ocean beyond.
Rita the café owner, greeted him as he sat. Automatically she brought his favourite coffee, filter, strong black, ready for him to add a large measure of sugar. His walks had become a regular pattern of the café day. First would always be the fishermen, either going out or coming in. Then the dog walkers, the keen joggers, and exercisers, then would be Harvey, who filled the gap, between the shop workers, the returning shoppers and the pensioners out for their morning walk.
'Have you walked up an appetite today Harvey, or will be it toast with poached eggs?' Rita really did know her customers appetites. Harvey liked that about her. She reminded him of the friendly barmaid you used to be able to find in Public Houses. Never intrusive, always welcoming, and for a man in his condition a little too good on the eye.
Rita stood at about 5ft 7in tall, she always wore low heels, black, that tightened her tapered calves. She fitted her brown uniform cotton skirt and blouse well. The knee length skirt was taut across her ample round buttocks, it wrinkled into her broad hips, straining against the dome of her abdomen. Her button down vee fronted blouse hung off her heavy ample bosom, Harvey guessed her bust would be 38D. His imagination often considered what her tits would look like unfettered by clothes, they looked firm, but maybe they would hang down rest against her chest her nipples distended making them look like two eager daschunds sniffing the air. For a moment he wished he were still outside. His cock was stirring at the misty outline of Rita's breast. He was grateful it was concealed by the table top.
Rita sucked in her belly as she stood talking to him. She shifted her weight, making her hips sway. He could see through the gap in her blouse, the flesh of her belly, it looked so soft, so smooth, so round. If only he could run his hand over that flesh reach under the tight waist band of her skirt. BREAKFAST! He had to remind himself why he was here. The muffled cries of pleasure from his daughter's bedroom still echoed in his head. Maybe he should have masturbated in the bathroom before going out, but that seemed so wrong. Jerking off while your daughter was having sex. No that was just sick. But then wasn't what he was doing equally as bad, looking at this mature, but very attractive women of 50 and fantasising about fucking her. She had a husband, Harvey had been served by him here in the café. They had shared an afternoon tea together when he had been on a break.
Harvey looked down at the front page of his Newspaper for something to distract his thoughts make him concentrate on what he wanted to eat. The headline was of a Government Minister who had been caught up in a sex scandal. There was a very provocative photograph of the woman alleged to be involved in the affair. He looked again the Minister was in France, at least it wasn't nothing to do with his wife or her new partner. The concern had been enough. He was almost under control, then Rita moved closer her thigh grazing his shoulder as she looked at the headline.
'Lucky girl! I wish my husband would fuck me seven times in a night. He can't....' Rita stopped changed her mind. 'Sorry I shouldn't start saying things I mustn't be unkind. He is a good man, a very loving husband. I don't know what I do without him.'
