Introduction

Walsall Pubs III

I started writing this and realised that this should be at least the third in a series which is why the strange title when there is I or II. The story I had set out to write is not the one I did write. Hopefully that will come later but, looking at the chronology that should be VI although I may write it next.

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For the first time in several years I was passing the door and I decided to pay a visit to an old flame, Pauline. Her neighbour, June saw me as I walked up the path to Pauline’s small block. June and Bill had moved in several years previously and had been regulars at the pub run by me and the wife.

Pauline was a 50 year old hopeless drunk, living on welfare and in this small flat. This was a shame and a waste as she was still very attractive. She has come by on a lunchtime when we had first taken over the pub some ears earlier.

“Have you any jobs, mister?”

The speaker was a 5’ 2” woman with greying red hair. Only later did I notice that she had one hell of a figure, decent sized tits, narrow waist and slim legs. At this moment I was distracted by the fact that it was before 12 and she was already swaying from too much alcohol. This may be hypocritical as we sold it, but it really did not endear her to me.

“No, sorry,” I replied lying through my teeth, “we have filled all the vacancies. Thanks for asking.” We were still looking for another cleaner, but it is a bit foolish to employ drunks in a pub.

“Oh, Ok,” she said and walked slowly and with deliberation up the hill. That was the point at which I watched her rear departing and, in spite of the sway, and the clothes that were past their best, I realised she should have been a stunner, even at 50.

It was summer and my wife ran the kitchen so, with staff behind the bar, it fell to me to wander tables, ostensibly collecting glasses and empty plates, giving me a good opportunity to keep an eye on the operation of the pub. This was a very downmarket area which was only saved by the presence of the area hospital which gave us most of our lunchtime trade, especially in food. Trouble abounded in the local establishments and we wanted none of it.

Over the course of the summer, she wandered down the hill and usually purchased a plate of chips and a modest half of lager and usually sat outside. She gave me her name and I gave her mine. Sober, she was good to look at and we got on OK so I had decent chats with her over the course of the summer.

Then, one evening she turned up just before closing, rather the worse for wear. I nodded hello and she went to the bar whilst I took some plates to the kitchen. Minutes later I walked back in to the bar to find one of our staff had served her with three pints. I chewed her out for doing so. “How was I to know they were all for her?” she complained. “Rather obvious,” was my reply “do you see anyone else?”

I walked over to her table. “Pauline,” I started whereupon she looked up and smiled at me, “you’ve already been drinking. How do you expect to finish those in the 20 minutes drinking-up time?”

“Dunno,” she replied

“Look, drink what you can, but at 20 past 11 the rest goes down the drain”

She nodded drunkenly. I was breaking the law just allowing her to consume the alcohol when already drunk.

My wife got agitated. “Who served her those?”

“Pat,” I replied, “I’ve already had words.”

Now there were only the three of us left in the bar, I told Pat to go and went back to Pauline’s table. “Time’s up Pauline.” She took another swig from her glass, having managed to consume one and start on the second then pushed the remaining pint and half full glass towards me. I picked them up, poured the remnants down the sink and put the glasses in the washer. We both escorted her to the door. She could hardly stand, let alone walk.

I looked at my wife. “Can’t let her go in that condition, can we?”

“How far have you got to go?” I asked Pauline

“Jusht round the corner,” and smiled at me with the lop-sided grin affected by most drunks.

“I’ll walk her home.” I said to the wife, “No telling what could happen to her in that state.”

She looked aggrieved, “Don’t be too long. We have to lock up. I’ll count the money while I wait.”

“Come on,” I said to Pauline and took her arm, “I’ll walk you home. How far is it?” Another grin

A 2 year old could have walked faster so I put my arm round her to support her so we could achieve a faster pace. Actually she felt nice; her body was slim and firm with only the correct amount of flesh that makes a woman feel good.

She stumbled regularly and I had to hold on to keep her upright. We rounded the bend and were now out of sight of the pub when she stumbled again. I took hold of her and as I pulled her up, I lifted her head to kiss her. She responded, hard and long, her lips soft and yielding her tongue probing into my mouth. Her beery breath I could not smell as I had had a couple too. But in my case it really was just a couple.

I put my hand to one of her tits and she did no object. “I’m going to fuck you.” I said and put her hand to my crotch where my cock was already hard and straining.

“mmmmmmmmmm” was her reply.

It still took another 5 minutes to reach her flat, still longer to find her keys, which I had to use as her coordination was shot to hell. Inside I found her flat was on the first floor so I still had to wrestle her up the staircase and then fumble with another lock.

The flat was neat and tidy and I asked the way to the bedroom. She pointed, speech having been abandoned and I guided her towards it. Once inside pushed her up against the wall, put my mouth to hers and started to undress her. That’s where the fist problem began. She had chosen to wear a designer dress that really had seen better days. It was a variation of the “Little Black Number” which was red and buttoned at the back.

“Nice dress,” I complimented her.

She found her voice, “No, it’s magnificent.” she said, waving her arms for emphasis. Maybe it was once, now it was just in the way. Tights, panties and high heels completed the outfit. I did not have time for this, the wife would wonder what I was doing if I did not reappear soon.

So, I undid my trousers and pushed them and my underpants to the floor, my cock sticking out and pointing to the ceiling. I put my hands up her skirt and found the waistband of her panties pulling both to the floor.

“Bend over the bed,” I commanded her.

“Say please”, she grinned.

“OK, please bend over the bed.”

She did but I had to help her cross the short gap to the bedside as she was hobbled by the clothes round her ankles and unsteady from the alcohol. I lifted her skirt, exposing her beautifully rounded rear and flexed my knees so I could push in to her cunt. She was well lubricated as my shaft slid easily up to the hilt. She grunted and I thrust in and out of her for only a few seconds before my cock exploded, squirting my cum into her.

Task over I hobbled to the bathroom and washed my cock, no tell-tale smells wanted.

Back in the room she had managed to pull up her knickers but not her tights, “I’d love to stop, but I must get back. She’s waiting.” I kissed her deep again and pulled away

I flew out of the door and ran down the road, only stopping early enough to ensure I was not out of breath when I returned. A wan smile was all I got from the wife but a good second fuck based on the memory of the encounter.

Some weeks later, Pauline did it again. This time I stopped her purchasing more than one pint. And on this occasion I was not allowed to escort her home. Pauline paid the price for that. An hour later an ambulance turned up, she has been hit by a car that had not stopped. Six months and a large number of operations were required to get her walking again. This was news obtained second hand from our customers.

Six weeks after the accident I discovered she was out of hospital and I determined that I was going to see how she was. So, one afternoon when I was not expected back to the pub. I dropped in to see her. The door to the lobby was plain glass and I could see through the glass, Pauline, one leg encased in plaster, wearing baggy old jogging bottoms and a sloppy top, crutches in hand was bumping down the stairs on her bum like a baby.

She saw me, finished her descent, and walked over on her crutches to open the outer door,

“Hello,” she said

“Where are you going?” I asked.

To get some cider from the local shop”

I paused, no it was futile. If I stopped her now, she’d only go later.

“I’ll go,” I said. “I’ve no cash on me so you’ll have to trust me with your money” She handed me a 10 pound note. I offered to see her upstairs but she refused so I turned round and got in the car. Probably would have been quicker to walk but I was back inside 20 minutes bearing two one and half litres of cheap, white cider as she had sepcified. I rang her flat and she buzzed me in.

As I came inside she appeared on the landing. The baggy clothes had gone. Now she was wearing a white blouse, thin enough to see her beige bra through. The joggers had been replaced with a full-length button-up skirt that was meant to be fastened at the side leaving as much of a spit as the wearer desired to expose their legs. On this occasion she had, deliberately or otherwise, fastened none of the buttons and the split was not at the side, but pulled round to the front. Every time she moved her cast and right leg were exposed to her waist also revealing a miniscule pair of white panties.

I mounted the stairs, and motioned her to lead the way. “Where do you want these?” I asked and she led the way to the kitchen where placed the bottles on the worktop and handed her her change. One bottle she put away, the other she opened and poured some into a glass. She offered me some. I refused.

I stood behind her and put my hands round her, nuzzling her neck. Her hair was clean and she smelled of perfume and cider. I raised both my hands and cupped her breasts. She was not wearing a padded bra so her small but ample tits felt firm to my touch. I could feel the nipples hardening through the fabrics of her blouse and bra. This time I was going to have a look at her tits.

She refilled her glass and led the way using just a stick back to the lounge where she invited me to sit next to her on the small sofa. I sat back as she sat forward to consume more of the cider from her glass. All I could see was her so I ran my hand up and down her back feeling the still firmness of her body. I lowered my hand and pulled the blouse out from the waistband of her skirt allowing me to put my hand onto the flesh. I lifted up the blouse and unclasped her bra so her tits would come free when I was ready. Then I ran my fingers from top to the bottom of her spine making her shudder.

“That tingles.” She said, put down the glass and sat back. As she did so, I lifted my arm so that it was now draped around her shoulders. I pulled her to me and her mouth met mine. Her mouth tasted of the cheap cider which was a shame as she knew how to make the most of kissing. Her tongue pushed into my mouth and wiped the remnants of the cider off on to my teeth. I responded in kind as I used my free hand to unbutton her blouse so I could slide my hand into her bra. With nothing to hold the bra in place, the cups fell free of her breast. Her tits were just more than a handful, a perfect size with small, button nipples that came erect with touching.

I bent my head so I could suck on her nipples making sure to pay equal attention to both breasts. Now I had a free hand which I used to pull the skirt aside and insert my hand into the waistband of her knickers. I found a neat, trimmed mound surmounting a warm and very wet cunt. To lubricate them, I slid the whole of one finger in to her pulling out to rub the little mound of her clit. Pauline’s breathing became hard and fast as I massaged her clit whilst sucking on her nipples. As her breathing came faster I rubbed faster, Pauline lifting her crotch to meet my fingers. After a very few minutes she sucked in a large breath and let it out in shudders as her cunt went into spasm with the force of her climax. Her body slumped as she came down from the high.

By now my cock was ready to go so I leaned back and put her hand on my crotch. Needing no second bidding, she unhooked my trousers and, with a little help from me, slid down my zip. Her warm hands felt inside my underpants and she took hold of my cock allowing it to come free and rise to its maximum size. My only intention at that moment was to slide my cock into her body.

Getting her knickers off was no mean feat as she had to lift her bum weighed down by the cast and I had to guide her neat panties over the cast. Eventually she is sat with legs apart, cunt exposed to my gaze and I could see her looking at my penis. I moved between her legs and pushed my cock slowly into her. For a woman of her age (actually we were only a few months different in age) she had a well lubricated but extremely tight cunt. We both watched as I fucked her, both fascinated by the sight of my penis moving in and out of her cunt. I could feel the pressure rising as my orgasm approached and overtook my. I came in waves each one pumping my semen into her body.

I pulled out and watched entranced by the sight of her dilated cunt and my semen pooling round the opening.

I came down fast and realised that I was expected back. “I have to go,” I said.

She nodded and I leaned up and kissed her as my cock subsided. This time I decided to leave her cunt juice and my cum coating my cock. I redressed and took my leave. She stayed sat in the chair taking another sip from her cider. Back at the pub I went to the loo and took in the smells of an eventful afternoon.

Soon after that we left the pub business altogether and went back to our house 20m miles away. Pauline was too far away for me to visit for the next 6 months. Then I was offered a job with an insurance company based in the same town as Pauline. Before I left I had obtained her phone number but had never had occasion to use it.

To be continued……..