Mum's Sexual Re-Awakening Pt. 03

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Mother and son's journey towards fulfilling a mutual fantasy.
7.5k words
4.11
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18

Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 04/17/2015
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Part 3: A New Job.

The next Sunday when I phoned, I could tell straight away that mum was feeling much more upbeat than usual, and was bursting with excitement to tell me something. It turned out that she'd found some more part time work, to supplement the limited income from her checkout job. She told me that she had been walking past one of the pubs quite near her when she happened to see a notice in the window asking for part time bar staff. Before giving herself time for second thoughts, she went in to enquire.

It turned out to be a late afternoon shift on from 3 till 7 on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. It was a temporary post due to maternity leave. Mum told the landlord that she had no experience of bar work, but he said she'd soon pick it up, and to her surprise offered her the job there and then. The pay rate wasn't great, but the money would still be more than welcome, the hours complemented her morning shift at the supermarket perfectly, and she thought it would be a nice sociable sort of job.

"So when do you start?" I asked her.

"I've already started, last Wednesday," she replied proudly.

So of course I asked her how she'd got on.

The landlord had told her to come in an hour early on her first day so that he could show her the ropes. It was a good time to start, as there were few customers mid afternoon midweek. So after keeping an eye on mum for a while, the landlord said he would leave her to it, as he had to catch up on some paperwork. Mum was naturally quite nervous about being left on her own on her very first day, but the landlord said she could give him a shout if she had any problems, but mum was delighted to tell me that she had coped OK.

Business got gradually busier for the last couple of hours, with people calling in for a drink on their way home from work. These were predominantly men, and were a disparate bunch, wearing anything from suits to labourers' overalls. Mum was relieved to find that they were mostly very friendly towards her, many commenting favourably on seeing a new face. (And I'm sure the figure would have been an added attraction. Although mum had deliberately dressed down in her everyday attire, she would nonetheless have looked very shapely in leggings and a snug fitting top.)

There was even some good-natured teasing at mum's expense, owing to her inexperience in the job, and she felt herself starting to relax. More than one customer offered to buy mum a drink. Now the landlord had told her she could help herself to a soft drink during her shift, but he had not said anything about accepting alcoholic drinks from customers. Mum didn't want to do anything wrong on her first day, so she said she would accept a drink when she'd finished her shift.

As things were getting busier, mum was glad of the help when the evening barman came in at 6 o'clock. He was in his fifties, balding, and looked at the new barmaid with undisguised interest, but he was friendly enough, asking how she had got on and if there was anything she was unsure about. But it also soon became clear that he was a touchy feely sort of person. The space behind the bar in which they had to work around each other was fairly confined, and he never missed an opportunity to touch mum when he passed by.

Initially this was just a case of brushing his hand against her arm, But before long he rested his hands on her hips as he passed behind her, just momentarily at first, but then more overtly. When mum didn't object, he tried brushing his hand "accidentally" against her backside, then progressed to giving it a light pat. In a way I couldn't blame him, mum's firm bottom did look particularly inviting encased in her black leggings.

Many women would have taken exception to this type of behaviour, but as I've said before, I think mum missed physical contact, and was happy to accept it as an affirmation that he found her attractive. So when the opportunity presented itself, he stood right next to mum, planted the palm of one hand firmly on her bottom, and asked the customers what they thought of the gorgeous new barmaid.

"She's too good for the likes of you," one joked with him, "You keep your hands off her, we don't want to frighten her off, do we."

"I wouldn't do that, would I," said the barman, giving mum's bottom a little squeeze, and mum had to stifle a giggle.

"Anyway," another said to mum, "Don't take any nonsense from him, he's a married man - God help her."

"Oh, you always spoil things for me," the barman said, in feigned irritation.

The landlord himself looked in about quarter to 7.

"How's the new girl getting on?" he asked a couple of his regulars.

"Very nicely," one replied, with feeling.

"Pity you can't get someone as good looking for the evening shift," the other said, looking pointedly at the barman. Mum couldn't help feeling pleased with herself, especially when the landlord said she could finish up.

"We don't want Lothario over there getting too distracted from his work, do we," he said.

So mum made her way round to the other side of the bar to avail herself of the drinks she had been offered earlier. Other customers drifted in a little later, as the earlier ones left for home, and many of them seemed to know each other, so mum kept getting introduced to the incomers as the new barmaid. So she wasn't short of company, and several of them also insisted on buying her a drink. Now mum hadn't wanted to seem at all greedy, so just asked for halves of lager, but some insisted on buying her pints, so she'd had a good belly full as the evening wore on.

When he had the chance, the landlord came round and stood with mum at the bar. He asked her if she felt comfortable with the job, and mum said that she was, as long as he was happy with her work.

"You seem to be fitting in just fine," he confirmed. "By the way, if you want to come in a bit early, you can have some lunch at a knock-down price with whatever's left, before you start work." (The pub was one of those that did a limited range of lunches, but no evening food.)

I was delighted that she'd had the courage to go for it, and I could tell by the tone of her voice that it had clearly given a tremendous boost to her confidence.

"That's brilliant news," I told her, "Sounds like an ideal job for you, to get out of the house a bit more and meet some different people. You obviously made a favourable impression, you should be proud of yourself."

"Oh, it was really nice to be the centre of attention for once," mum said, "But by the time I left about 10 o'clock I felt quite drunk, and I had to go to work at the supermarket with a hangover the next morning."

I couldn't help chuckling. "Well, never mind," I said, "They were bound to make a fuss of somebody new, especially someone as nice as you."

"Oh, I don't know about that," mum said, "And I didn't wear anything special," but I told her that she couldn't help but look sexy with a figure like hers.

"So how did the rest of the week go?" I asked her.

"It was great," she replied. "On the Thursday, I decided to go in early to see what the lunch was like."

"Any good?" I asked.

"Well, it wasn't exactly gourmet," mum replied, "But it was certainly filling, and it saved me having to prepare anything myself. I asked the landlord if it was all right to have a drink before starting work, and he said: 'Of course, but don't overdo it, because it's not good practise to leave the bar unattended if you need to go to the toilet.' So I just had one pint to wash it down with," mum said.

"And how did the shift go?" I enquired.

"Fine," mum replied, "It was very quiet again for the first couple of hours, and a few different customers came in later on, and most of the men wanted to chat to me, which was nice."

"And how about sex pest?" I asked, "Was he on duty again?"

"Oh, he's all right really," mum said, "He must have been feeling a bit guilty, because when he came in he took me to one side and said that I could tell him to back off if I wanted to, and he wouldn't take offence."

"So did you?" I asked.

"No!" mum said dismissively, "I said I didn't mind, but told him that he shouldn't get any ideas."

"So did you stop behind again?" I asked.

"Well, I had to go for a pee first, after my pint at lunchtime, but would you believe that three drinks had already been promised me when I'd finished my shift, so it would have been rude to turn them down. And then I got introduced to some other people, and a few from the previous evening came in again, so I never had an empty glass. The thing is, it's nice and cosy in there and the people are so friendly, I didn't relish the prospect of going back to my empty flat again."

"Don't apologise," I said, "I've been encouraging you to get out more all along."

"But by the time I left," mum said, "I was well on the way to being drunk again. The landlord must think I'm a right boozer."

"I bet he hasn't complained, though," I said, "After all, it's all money in the till."

"He doesn't seem to mind," mum confirmed, "He comes and chats to me sometimes if there's a lull, and even got me a drink on the house. But it's no fun getting up the next morning with a headache, it's just as well the checkout isn't a very demanding job."

"Just remember to have a drink of water before you go to bed, and if you get up in the night," I advised her, "That will stop you getting dehydrated."

"So how did the Friday go?" I asked her next.

"Well, I wanted to wear something a bit different, as I had worn much the same thing for the first two days, and I thought perhaps I should be a bit smarter on the Friday. But not very much fits me theses days. I've got those two dresses I can still squeeze into, but I didn't want to to use them as work wear, and then I found that pair of shiny black leggings. Do you remember them?"

Indeed I did. Dad had bought them for her, and I'd only ever known mum wear them at dad's instigation. They really did look as though they had been sprayed on, they were so clingy. I was under the impression that mum had thought them a bit tarty, so I was surprised, but thrilled, that she had decided to wear them. She had selected a black long-sleeved slinky top to complete the ensemble.

"Well done, you must have looked stunning," I told her.

"Well, I didn't get any complaints," mum said. "Anyway, I went in early again and had my lunch and a pint at the pub, and it was pretty quiet to start with, but it did get busier than the previous days, especially later in the evening, but of course I was off duty by then. But this chap in a suit came in about half past four, and ordered a pint of bitter and a large glass of wine. When I put them on the counter, he pushed the wine glass over to me and said: that's for you. I told him I didn't think I should be drinking on duty, but he said he knew the landlord, and would take the blame, and in any case the landlord wasn't there to see, was he."

Mum said she was a bit reluctant, after her pint at lunchtime, but couldn't really refuse. So mum was already in need of a pee by the time the 6 o'clock barman came in, but was reluctant to ask to be excused, as she was sure he would tease her about it. Of course, the barman found mum's attire irresistible, and couldn't take his eyes off her. Not surprisingly, he couldn't keep his hands off her, either. He called her his little temptress, and was quite openly fondling her whenever he got the chance, delighted that he had such a nubile and compliant participant.

I asked mum if it bothered her, but she said it almost felt like he was at her mercy, rather than the other way round, so she was quite content to play along. She knew - and he knew - that if he went too far mum could put a stop to it at any time. And it was quite obvious to the customers that he was having a job to control himself, which they found very funny, and he became the target of much teasing and scolding.

Through it all mum carried on serving, whilst trying to ignore the nagging urge in her bladder until the end of her shift. But before she could relieve herself, the landlord asked her into a back room to give mum her first week's pay. As she hadn't thought to ask him previously about the pay arrangements, this came as a very pleasant surprise.

"I'm certainly glad I decided to take you on," he told her, "You seem to be fitting in really well. The customers obviously like you, and I think you're going to be good for business. Especially with the outfit you've got on this evening," he added, with a wink.

"So did you stop on again," I asked her, though I was pretty sure what the answer would be.

Mum said that she didn't fancy going straight home on a Friday evening, and in any case, a couple of drinks had already been bought for her for when she finished. She said that there were more couples in on the Friday, but there were others she already knew, and she was introduced to yet more as the evening wore on.

"How did they react to your outfit?" I wanted to know. Mum said she could tell she was getting plenty of looks, and received lots of complements, some of them quite cheeky. Now they were getting to know mum better, several men started asking her whether she had a boyfriend, what she was doing Saturday evening, and a few asked directly if she wanted to go out with them.

"Well that's really nice," I said, "Though I'm not surprised you were in demand with that outfit on. So did you take up any of the offers?" But mum said that the men who had asked her out were all about her age or older, and she didn't really fancy any of them. And as she was going to be working there regularly, she thought it might make things awkward if she appeared to be favouring one customer over the others, especially if the date didn't go well. So she told them that she already had a boyfriend, who visited her at the weekend. I couldn't fault her reasoning, and told her that I thought she had been very astute to think it through like that.

"That's all very well," mum said, "But I was really enjoying all the company and attention in the pub, and if I was saying I wasn't available, I didn't want them to think I was just there in order to be plied with drinks all evening. So now I had been paid, I started offering to buy drinks in return. They seemed very impressed that I was willing to pay my way, but most wouldn't hear of it, and now that they know I have no trouble putting the stuff away, most of them buy me pints."

"I'd promised myself I wouldn't have so much to drink this evening, as I had to go to work again at the supermarket on Saturday morning. But by the time I left the pub, well past 11 o'clock, I couldn't walk in a straight line. I did remember to drink plenty of water when I got home," she continued, "But I really didn't want to get up the next morning. I must have looked rough, because a couple of the supermarket girls said I looked as though I'd had a good night out."

"So did you go out yesterday (ie Saturday) as well?" I enquired.

"I wasn't intending to, I thought I'd stay in and detox," mum replied. "But when I got home from the supermarket I still felt a bit hungover and tired, so I actually went to sleep for a few hours. When I woke up again I felt a lot better, and hungry, but I couldn't be bothered to cook, and I thought why not go out for something to eat. I can afford it now I'm earning a bit more money. So I decided to catch the bus into town and go to that big pub that does good value food and cheap drinks."

"What did you wear?" I wanted to know.

"Well, as it was Saturday I didn't want to wear my usual leggings and top, so I thought I'd put on my blue dress," mum replied.

"Good girl," I said, "I only wish I'd been there to see it."

"Anyway, I went to the pub and ordered a pint and a meal, mum continued. The pub was busy and I had to wait a while for my food. I must have been thirsty, because I'd nearly finished my pint by the time the food arrived, so I went and bought another one to accompany the meal. Although I was on my own, I felt quite cosy in the sociable atmosphere of the pub, so when I'd finished, I decided to have one more drink before I went home for an early night. However, things didn't quite work out that way," she added intriguingly.

"Go on," I said.

"Well," mum continued, "There was a man at the bar, about thirty-ish I would guess, short hair, quite good looking in a rugged sort of way, but what really caught my eye was the skin-tight lycra outfit he was wearing. I couldn't help staring at the bulge in his black leggings, and the short sleeved top packaged his chest very nicely as well. I was so absorbed, it took me a moment to register that he was offering to refill my glass. 'I do like a girl who drinks pints' he said, and smiled indulgently as I sort of stammered that I'd love another drink. He sank the rest of his pint and ordered two more."

"'So what's a gorgeous lady like you doing out on her own on a Saturday evening?' he asked me.

I told him vaguely that I was supposed to be meeting someone a bit later. We chatted for a while as we drank, and he asked my name, which was nice. He was called Dave. He finished his pint before I'd drunk much more than half of mine, and said: 'Drink up, I'll get you another'. I told him that it was my round, but he insisted on getting these in, saying that he would let me buy the next round. He looked at me approvingly as I sank the rest of my pint in one go, so he could refill it."

"He supped his next pint more slowly, which I was glad of, as I felt I would have to keep up with him if I was buying the next round." Mum said that she felt really comfortable chatting away with him, and for once it wasn't the man ogling her so much as the other way round. Mum said he must have noticed that her eyes kept getting drawn to his lycra leggings, and particularly the inviting bulge in his crotch, which she was sure was getting bigger.

The fourth pint, aided by Dave's congenial company, was definitely making mum feel more relaxed and flirtatious. But all the beer was also having its other inevitable effect, and by the time they had finished their drinks, she was no longer able to ignore her increasingly urgent need to pee. Mum said she was sure Dave was watching her with heightened interest as she began to fidget and shift her weight to try and relieve the pressure in her bladder.

As mum ordered the next round, Dave was saying: "You do look stunning in that dress. I love the way it shows off your curves," he added approvingly, tracing a the palm of his hand discretely down her side and over her hips. But after a big meal and four pints of beer mum was uncomfortably aware that the swell of her tummy was even more pronounced than usual, and the way in which the slinky material clung to the top of her meaty thighs accentuated it even more.

"I think I've got too many curves to be wearing something like this," mum said ruefully, slapping her belly.

"Nonsense," Dave said. "You've got a sensational figure, you should be proud of it."

"Well, thank you," mum said, accepting the compliment gratefully, "But you look pretty fit yourself. And those leggings don't leave much to the imagination, either," she added.

Mum said she was sure that she could discern the outline of his sizeable erect penis within the lycra, the ridge of the corona particularly evident at the base of his bulbous glans. Mum admitted that she couldn't help fantasizing about what it would be like to have such a fine tool probing her pussy lips and feel its firmness filling her sex. She felt her vagina becoming slick with desire in response. And she had to admit to herself that the sensation of holding on to such a full bladder was heightening the arousal she was feeling.

Mum finally looked up from her revelry to find Dave smiling at her knowingly. In a futile attempt to take her mind off its fixation, she said: "You must be keen on cycling."