I couldn't stop thinking about Rita for the next couple of days and started to question my sanity. Had I been dreaming? Was the incongruous image in the front of my mind of the naked 59-year-old grandmother sitting in the village pub with her huge sagging tits and hairy pussy based on reality?
It had started with my Dutch Courage-induced proposition to the plain older barmaid at the village pub in Devon, England: would she consider flashing me her tits in return for modest payment. Rita was desperate for extra cash to pay off some debts and, after initial reluctance, had amazed me by obliging a few days later!
Rita was a grandmother of 59, some 18 years older than I was. She was about 5'4" and could never have been described as a looker with short, mousy brown hair and thick glasses.
Slowly, she had pulled her t-shirt up to reveal a white lacy bra. It was slightly transparent and I could just make out the dark circles of her nipples through the lace.
She had reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Wide eyed, I had watched as her two huge, slightly wrinkled tits eased out and rested on her plumpish belly. Her brown nipples were nearly 2" in diameter and stuck out for at least Β½ an inch.
One thing had lead to another and I had ended up licking her to orgasm before wanking over her sagging tits and hairy cunt with her obscene encouragement. It had been a bizarre end to a mundane working week.
After a few days away on business, I headed back to the pub at 6.30 the following Thursday. As always, it was deserted at that time, and Rita was standing behind the bar polishing some glasses. She greeted me with a somewhat nervous smile.
"Ah Nick, listen, no one must ever find out about what happened last week -- I'm so embarrassed and worried sick that my husband might find out."
"Of course not Rita, it's our little secret -- you have my word. But does that mean that you regret what happened?"
"Well no, actually I can't stop thinking about it and about how you made me feel."
"Good, well, providing we are discrete, are you happy to continue with our arrangement?"
"Well I guess I do need the money!"
Rita came out from behind the bar and I noticed that she had made quite an effort. Although no beauty, she had had her hair cut and applied a little more make up than usual. She wore a white satin shirt that was ever so slightly transparent and I could just make out the white lace bra beneath.
Last time, I had cheekily asked that she wore a skirt this time and she had duly obliged. Although it looked slightly dated, she wore a navy blue skirt that came to just below her knee. Black pantyhose or stockings (I hoped!) and black court shoes with modest heels completed the look.
"What do you think?" she said, placing a beer on the table for me and walking over to turn the key in the front door of the pub before sitting down.
"You look wonderful Rita, you turn me on so much."
"How did you find my panties since we last saw each other?" Rita had given me her sodden white lace panties as a souvenir of our encounter the previous week. "Have you been playing with them?"
"Yes, everyday, and usually two or three times."
"Show me. Show me what you do, Nick -- please". She sounded just a little breathless.
"Well hang on just a minute Mrs Evans, isn't the idea that I pay you to see your assets?" I teased.
"Nick, I just love the thought of you playing with your cock and can't believe that I turn you on -- I'm 59 years old for goodness sake!"
Rita moved a little closer and crossed her legs allowing her skirt to ride up a little and I caught a flash of darker nylon as it did so.
"Do you always look up ladies' skirts Nick -- that's rude." She uncrossed her legs again and made a bit of a show of adjusting her skirt.
"You said that you wanted me to wear a skirt this time -- do you like what you see?"
I admired her slightly chubby legs encased in the silky black nylon. "Yes, they're gorgeous -- can I see some more please?"
"I thought it was my breasts that you liked -- you spent enough time looking after those last week! Don't tell me that you have a thing about my legs as well?"
"Well, actually yes -- and your shoes."
"My shoes, God Nick I am worried about you -- you really are a bit kinky aren't you?"