Thank you to kenjisato for editing my story.
I had dated Ann-Marie years ago. She had been a real cutie. Petite, at only just over five feet tall, blonde, and with big breasts that that were firm, and as beautiful as she was. And she loved showing them off; always wearing low tops, and flashed them quite often. That's why we split up, actually. I was sick of being ribbed about it. Sick of my friends telling me they fantasized about her. I reckon most of them jerked off thinking of her.
She wasn't even the best lay I ever had, so I wasn't bothered about dumping her. I thought I would have no problem replacing her with another hottie. I was wrong.
Anyway, that was years ago.
She'd had five kids now, from three or four different guys. The tramp. Mind you, she was still very cute. She had moved back to her mother's with her youngest kid and started drinking at my local pub again. She always said hi if she saw me. Sometimes, I would say hello back; sometimes, I wouldn't. I didn't want my friends seeing me with a tramp like her. And she knew it. I had seen her upset more than once, if I scowled at her when my buddies were around... well, tough.
But, she still invited me around to her place, now and again, for a nightcap. If my buddies were around, I refused; if they weren't... I went. Only for a few, free late-night beers, mind you. No funny business... I don't fuck tramps.
Then one night, a cracking, little blonde came into the bar. A real stunner; miniskirt barely covering her ass, big tits hanging out of her low top. Bloody hell! Every guy in the place was drooling over her... me, included.
Then, she sees Ann-Marie and goes straight over to her.
I went over and said, "Hey babes," to Ann-Marie, even though I had ignored her all night.
The blonde stunner kissed Ann-Marie on the cheek, and left without as much as glancing at me. Long story short, it was Ann-Marie's daughter, Rachel, named after her scraggly, old grandmother. I hadn't seen her in years. She did look fabulous.
After that night, I was a lot nicer to Ann-Marie. I always bought her a drink, or two; in the hopes of seeing more of Rachel. I even made out with Ann-Marie a couple of times when I was particularly drunk and horny. I always imagined it was Rachel, though. Easy fantasy, too. They were about the same height, and both had similar tits, though I was certain, Rachel's would, of course, be firmer.