"Hi, how are you?"
I'd always had a soft spot for Rita the barmaid at our local village pub in Devon, England. I'd often pop down for an early beer when she opened up at 6.30 and usually it would just be the two of us for an hour or so. Like many village pubs in the UK, business was a little slow these days.
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.
We had known each other for around fifteen years and always got on well in a fairly superficial sort of way. Usually she talked and I listened, occasionally sneaking a glance at her breasts as we chatted.
My life in the sex department at home was also a little slow and I had often fantasised about Rita as I masturbated in the shower or when surfing the net. I got the impression that she had a soft spot for me too and there was always distinct hand contact when I paid for my drink.
Although not particularly pretty, there was something attractive and 'earthy' about Rita. I guessed that she was about a 38d and had on occasion glimpsed her nipples poking through her t-shirt in summer although she seemed to usually wear concealing bras. On one occasion, I remember her complaining about the effects of age.
"My boobs are hanging down to my belly, Nick".
Now I love hanging tits – always have done – but I was a little lost for words when she came out with that!
Rita had financial problems with large debts and only part-time work available to try to pay them off. One Friday, it all came out.
"Oh Nick, what am I going to do – I really can't cope financially"
Tears were welling up in her eyes and, fortified by a couple of beers, I was amazed to hear myself saying:
"Rita, would you be offended if I made you a small offer?"
"What kind of an offer, do you need some help with cleaning?"
"Well, no, not exactly – no I can't say it!"
"Oh please tell me Nick, I'm desperate for any kind of work."
"Well here goes. You know that I told you about the problems I've been having at home recently?"
"Yes".
"Well, I confess that I've been thinking about you more and more. Okay so I know you're married but here goes: I'd like to pay you just to see your boobs on occasion. There, I've said it!"
Well, she went completely mad.
"How dare you!" Her face flushed and chest heaved with rage.
"I'm really sorry Rita, I should never have said anything and that was way out of order".
I managed to calm her down a little and apologised profusely before making my excuses and leaving. The next week I went back in with trepidation.
"Look Rita, I'm really sorry about last Friday – I didn't mean to insult you. It's just that, well I've always found you attractive – I didn't want anything to get carried away, just to admire your boobs on occasion. I'm so sorry."
"Well actually, after I calmed down, I admit I was a little flattered. I mean, who would want to fancy a 59-year plump granny with saggy boobs! How much were you thinking of paying me anyway?"
