Liza looked at herself in the mirror. She still had curves in the right places, they were fuller now but her shape was there. The softly curved hourglass that had earned her the nickname Luscious Liza all those years ago. Her hair was still blonde, with a little chemical help, and still flowed sensually over her shoulders. Sensually, can I say that at my age? She wondered. Why not? I'm only sixty and just turned sixty at that.
She picked up the photograph of herself and Heather, her daughter, taken just a couple of weeks ago. They were in Barcelona, a sixtieth birthday treat. Heather in that tiny black thong bikini, breasts straining to break free of the small string tied triangles that just covered them. I would have worn a bikini as small as that when I was twenty three she thought, now look at me. Liza's eyes wandered across the picture to rest on herself in the white one piece. Still got the shape, there's just more off me. And my bust? It looks good. That swimsuit shows off a lot of tit, well I suppose it's normal on the beaches over there.
She wondered if any, no, how many men had admired her décolletage. She had a small vision of some fixating on it, cocks swelling, taking the image home in their heads to beat themselves off to in private. 'Stop it,' she said it out loud but could not suppress the tingle that shot through her snatch. She slid her hands up her sides, cupped her breasts, tweaked her nipples, wondered if she should get Big Johnny out. Johnny was the vibrator that she treated herself too a few months ago. That and a couple of online erotic stories would be good she thought.
'Shit.' She jumped. The clatter and chug of a lawnmower growled through the open window spoiling her daydream.
'Damn.' She checked her purse. Seventy pounds and that had to last into next week. If she gave Michael the full fifty she'd owe him she'd be struggling till pension day. She dropped the purse on the dressing table, grabbed her robe, tied it tight round her waist but left plenty of bra less tit on display, slid her feet into the kitten heeled mules and ran downstairs.
'Michael,' she called standing there on the patio.
'Yes. Just a minute,' he shouted from the other end of the green. His back was to her.
Liza stood legs slightly apart, the left one forward. The light breeze caught the folds of her robe blowing them back to tease with a long glance of leg. God he might see my knickers she said to herself. So what. He's certainly not the first. She trailed her finger down the valley between her boobs, pushing back more of the robe, giving him more to see. He turned round just as her finger had traced down to the bottom of its journey. She left it there, knowing it was a bigger tease.
'Michael can I have a word?'
Michael turned round. She saw the brief hesitation in him as her took in her flimsy near nakedness. She'd seen it before, so many times from so many men. Liza smiled, glad she could still have that effect. He walked over to her. Yes he can come to me, she thought. Come like a dog comes to a bitch in heat and, my God I have been a bitch in heat at times. She laughed inwardly at the thought of what all her feminist friends would think of her now. How much they don't know about me. They'd never guess I could like it rough, very rough. She felt the heat of a blush on her face.
'Michael,' she spoke hesitantly. 'Can you come in a moment?' She turned and led him into the small not waiting for a reply. She knew he would follow her.
'I'm a bit short this week.' She turned to face him in the cramped hall. 'Can I just give you half just now and I'll make it up in a fortnight?'
'Oh,' he sighed. 'I make it a rule to never give credit.'
'Well.' Liza drew the word out, lifted a finger to her mouth and gently sucked on the tip. 'I suppose...' It wouldn't be the first time but that was almost forty years ago she thought. The memories ran through her head. 'Could I pay you half cash half...' Liza pulled out the knot on her robes belt. She pushed the robe back and held it there, hands on her hips wishing she was wearing sexy knickers and not the plain white cotton that was her regular style these days.
'Christ,' he said. 'Fuck me.'
'If you wish.' She smiled coquettishly lifting her hands to her breasts and offering them to him. 'Can you close the door?'
'What?' He turned round. 'Oh yes.' He pulled the door so they were private. 'I didn't know you were a...' He stumbled over what to call her.
'An intimate companion?' She said.
He nodded still looking unsure of what was happening.
'It's a nicer term than whore or prostitute. I prefer to use it.' She paused. Are you... Are you, interested?' Liza let the question hang feeling the heat rising in her. The more he stared at her breasts the more her nipples tingled and stiffened. It helped that she was tracing delicate loops round them with her fingers. God she hoped he'd agree. She couldn't afford to pay fifty pounds this month and she wanted to be fucked again. It had been seven years with only her fingers or toys to bring her off.
'Yes. I won't turn down a ride. How much?' He asked. 'I'll give you a discount, half, twenty five pounds but I want it today.'
