Rita's Cafe

Harvey strode along the promenade walk, to his right the grey green ocean broke onto the pebble beach, and on his left was the road. As he turned following the line of the shore, the road split leaving behind the terrace of Victorian sea front hotels opening up onto a view of a distant fairground, small pleasure gardens and a crazy golf course.

Despite the bright sun and the white galleons of cloud sailing across the perfect blue sky, the walk was almost empty aside from a few dog walkers. Winter mornings in an English seaside town, are only for locals and those who need the exercise. The wind that coloured his face was biting cold, it peppered his cheeks with spittles of spume from the rolling tide, mixed with sand and dust dried beyond the line of the tide.

Above the hotels, the guest houses, the cliff road rose, it was busy with cars heading into town, but here was peace, amongst the tired gaiety of the painted boarded shops, waiting for spring and the return of the visitors. Normally he would not be out of the house this early, he would be one of the cars, heading up onto the cliff road, but his daughter was down for a few days along with her new boyfriend. Which meant he just had to get out of the house.

When Harvey and Diane divorced it had been amicable, as amicable as these things can be. Diane a successful Lecturer in Psychology had enforced many house moves with her career, each of them, he learnt upon his separation had also sparked a liaison with one or more members of the teaching staff. The last move had been to the capital, and the liaison there became the relationship to split their marriage. Diane had met her equal, both in intellect, position and power. Harvey as a writer and artist, enjoyed the city as a diversion, but was not sad to leave it all behind just his wife and family.

The arrangement he and Diane made enabled him to buy a four bedroom house, with a converted loft that gave him wide views across to the sea and the surrounding countryside. Sadly part of that view had gone, when the developers arrived, he remembered the tirade of letters he wrote to newspapers, news programmes and his MP who just happened to be Diane's new partner. He was sympathetic, but progress could not be halted for the sake of a view. He could move, but then what guarantee would he have the same would not happen again. The house he had gave him what he wanted, somewhere for his children to escape to, whenever they wanted to leave London and the comfortable but crowded house in which they lived.

Harvey had the alternative, a place to come and be free, from congestion, pressure and noise. Oh yes noise. The reason why Harvey was striding out on his early morning walk in the biting cold when he could be at home reading the paper with hot coffee and toast was the noise. Harvey had two daughters and a son. All children you have hopes and ambitions for, sons become the surrogate for all the things you didn't achieve, all the opportunities you missed, the wild oats you didn't sow. Daughters, will always remain precious, someone to be loved, protected, and be proud of whatever they do. You do not want them to fall victim to the kind of rake, you had hoped to be yourself, you do not want them to be the sexual play thing of the young man you hope your son to be. No those girls are young women, they are never someone else's daughter.

So whilst he took pleasure in his daughter's visits, and the company of the young men they brought with them, he could not stay in the house, when the daughter woke to the not unwelcome amorous advances of her current young man. At first Harvey had tried ear plugs, he tried to carry on his normal existence not noticing the creaks, the bangs, the grunts, and the strange mewing sounds that came from behind closed doors. This had not worked, he found himself, ridiculously aggressive and angry towards the young men, who were often quite charming, intelligent and great company. The sort of lad you would spend an afternoon or evening talking to at a pub, or after dinner. To control his anger and protective instincts he now took long walks.

Of course it did not help that having moved his own sex life had not been rekindled with other ladies. He had not been totally without female company, but most of the women he met were looking for husbands, commitment, long term relationships, whilst to put it bluntly all he was looking for was a fuck. He had commitment, he had responsibilities, he had people he loved dearly, his family. In time perhaps there would be someone else, but right now, he needed the fresh air, that was biting into his clothes and keeping his ardour very much under control.

Amidst the line of boarded shop fronts, two were illuminated, their windows misty from condensation. The first was the newsagent and tobacconist; popular with walkers and early morning workers, the second was Rita's café. The long run of glass windows was adorned in red lettering spelling out its name. The old fluorescent lights threw a yellow cast to the light reflected through the glass. Steam rose from the back, sending the inviting smells of cooked bacon into the wind. The fragrance seemed to take away some of the chill, as Harvey approached what was his unofficial halfway point on his morning walk.

Harvey quickly stopped and bought a morning paper, the change of atmosphere blurring the vision from his glasses. The Asian lady behind the counter, counted out the change he proffered in his open palm, as payment and swiftly he moved on into the café. Here the aroma of warm toast, coffee and cooked bacon wrapped around his senses like a comforting blanket. Luckily the simple metal backed chairs were all covered in bright red vinyl, so Harvey was able to navigate by looking over his misted glasses towards a corner table by the window. He knew it would be colder there, but he still liked the misty view he could see of the ocean beyond.

Rita the café owner, greeted him as he sat. Automatically she brought his favourite coffee, filter, strong black, ready for him to add a large measure of sugar. His walks had become a regular pattern of the café day. First would always be the fishermen, either going out or coming in. Then the dog walkers, the keen joggers, and exercisers, then would be Harvey, who filled the gap, between the shop workers, the returning shoppers and the pensioners out for their morning walk.

'Have you walked up an appetite today Harvey, or will be it toast with poached eggs?' Rita really did know her customers appetites. Harvey liked that about her. She reminded him of the friendly barmaid you used to be able to find in Public Houses. Never intrusive, always welcoming, and for a man in his condition a little too good on the eye.

Rita stood at about 5ft 7in tall, she always wore low heels, black, that tightened her tapered calves. She fitted her brown uniform cotton skirt and blouse well. The knee length skirt was taut across her ample round buttocks, it wrinkled into her broad hips, straining against the dome of her abdomen. Her button down vee fronted blouse hung off her heavy ample bosom, Harvey guessed her bust would be 38D. His imagination often considered what her tits would look like unfettered by clothes, they looked firm, but maybe they would hang down rest against her chest her nipples distended making them look like two eager daschunds sniffing the air. For a moment he wished he were still outside. His cock was stirring at the misty outline of Rita's breast. He was grateful it was concealed by the table top.

Rita sucked in her belly as she stood talking to him. She shifted her weight, making her hips sway. He could see through the gap in her blouse, the flesh of her belly, it looked so soft, so smooth, so round. If only he could run his hand over that flesh reach under the tight waist band of her skirt. BREAKFAST! He had to remind himself why he was here. The muffled cries of pleasure from his daughter's bedroom still echoed in his head. Maybe he should have masturbated in the bathroom before going out, but that seemed so wrong. Jerking off while your daughter was having sex. No that was just sick. But then wasn't what he was doing equally as bad, looking at this mature, but very attractive women of 50 and fantasising about fucking her. She had a husband, Harvey had been served by him here in the café. They had shared an afternoon tea together when he had been on a break.

Harvey looked down at the front page of his Newspaper for something to distract his thoughts make him concentrate on what he wanted to eat. The headline was of a Government Minister who had been caught up in a sex scandal. There was a very provocative photograph of the woman alleged to be involved in the affair. He looked again the Minister was in France, at least it wasn't nothing to do with his wife or her new partner. The concern had been enough. He was almost under control, then Rita moved closer her thigh grazing his shoulder as she looked at the headline.

'Lucky girl! I wish my husband would fuck me seven times in a night. He can't....' Rita stopped changed her mind. 'Sorry I shouldn't start saying things I mustn't be unkind. He is a good man, a very loving husband. I don't know what I do without him.'

Harvey waited for Rita to complete her thoughts but she turned back to her pad. Her thigh was still against his shoulder. He turned the round stretched front of her skirt was at eye level. He could feel the heat of her. He could almost bury his face into her abdomen. His mouth was dry, he needed the coffee, but dare not move, he could feel his hand starting to shake.

'I'll have the lot.' Harvey blurted out.

'You mean the full breakfast?'

'Yes, yes that's right Rita, the Full Breakfast, I seemed to have an appetite this morning. A very big appetite.'

Rita turned, her buttocks almost grazing his chin. Harvey felt himself flush. He was acting like a randy teenager. He had to stop this. He flicked the pages over, to find something to calm him down. He read the business pages they were normally depressing. But where ever he looked there was something to stimulate him further. The hot tip in the business section was a lingerie company who were recording high profits for the year. Why did they do that? Have women modelling the underwear to show the performance of the company. The young model must have tits the size of Rita's. Did she ever wear something like that? Harvey found himself watching Rita trying to discern the outline of her underwear, beneath her uniform. The blouse was tight on the shoulders, then loose at the waist, but he could see the shape of her bra straps.

He turned to the arts section a retrospective of a photographer who portrayed the fifties, sixties, film stars, all voluptuous, all would satisfy his hunger. Maybe food would be the answer. Rita brought another coffee, she was attentive at this time of the day, as she had few customers to serve. She bent forward to fill his cup, he could see her breasts pressed together, the faint edge of lace outlining the cup of her bra. Harvey had to look away. He pretended there was something in the sports pages that had caught his eye. Harvey was not a sportsman, he did not have the regular male obsessions, with Golf, Soccer or Tennis. On the page was the picture of the latest young Russian female tennis player. He had to remind himself she was younger than his daughter.

'You men are all the same, I don't know what your daughter would think of you looking at girls like that.'

'Probably the same as you Rita, that I am sad and delusional. She is pretty and apparently a good player. I cannot comment, I don't follow sport.'

'Neither do I. Now my husband he loves his sport bless him. Football, cricket, Golf, and Snooker. He is up all hours watching the snooker. I leave him to it, I have this place to run. Can't be coming in here with bags under my eyes or my head fuddled. So I take it you have company this weekend.'

'Yes. Yes I do. One of my daughters is down for the weekend.'

'You ought to bring her on a walk with you. She would probably be grateful of a good breakfast.'

'I don't think so Rita. She is not one for the early mornings.' Harvey said to hide the real reason for his lone walks.

Rita delivered Harvey's steaming plate of breakfast. The café was empty. She refilled his coffee and came over with a mug of tea and some toast in her hand.

'Mind if I join you. No one is in and I was feeling a little peckish.'

Harvey cleared away the newspaper and indicated for Rita to sit facing him. They sat in silence for awhile both enjoying the comfort of the food. Harvey found himself looking into Rita's face. Her hair was dark, tied up behind her head, her eyes were brown, framed by a light mascara. He found himself studying her lips moist from tea, glistening with the oil of the butter on her toast. Her lips were full, they had a round softness, which broke easily into a friendly welcoming smile.

He looked at her fingers, the nails were short, straight cut, with an application of purple varnish on them. A selection of metal rings sparkled on her hand. She watched his eyes saw him studying the rings.

'These are my little luxuries. I love rings. Nothing expensive, some might say they are a little brash, flash even. But a girl has to have some pleasures in life. I know I shouldn't wear them to work, Health and Safety. But I know all the Inspectors so I can soon flick them off with a little butter if I see one coming.'

Harvey was embarrassed to realise he had been noticed studying her. He made light of her comment.

'We only have one life. We must enjoy it. You like rings, it is no one's business other than your own. We all have little pleasures.'

'Rings are just one of mine. Some are less obvious than others. So what are your little pleasures? I know your family is important, they visit a lot. Now that son of yours is a handsome man, if I were a little younger he could well be one of my pleasures.'

Harvey did not know what to say. Rita liked his son, but she did not like him. Well did not like him in the same physical way. He had thought he had aged well, maybe not. He stayed with Rita's supposition of his family pleasures. In his answer he chose walks, food, entertaining his children, and the occasional glass of wine.

As he spoke he found he was leaning closer to Rita. Her foot touched his. He wondered if he should move away, apologise. It did not seem to matter, in fact her knee was resting against his. Her eyes were returning his gaze, he felt the tightness in his groin. He reached for his coffee. The cup was empty. His throat was dry again. But he continued to look at her. Listen as she spoke of her shared interest, walks, her family, and food. Rita had grown up children, she was soon to be a grandmother. He looked at her and commented. 'Grandmothers never looked like you when I was a child.'

'Should I take that as a compliment?' she asked brushing a stray hair from her cheek, and pressing her mug of tea to her lips. He watched as the lips parted, he saw them gripping the cup. Maybe it was time for him to leave. He watched as her tongue licked the butter away from the edge of her mouth, leaving a dust of toast crumb at the corner. He could so kiss her mouth, taste the toast, and butter as their mouths met. He sucked in his breath and felt his cock nudge against his pants. He held his breath, trying to control his body. Reason said this was a mature woman, a mother, a grand mother who out of politeness had sat to share breakfast with him. But she was also very sexy, the warm mixture of toast, perfume and soap, sent messages of comfort to his body and his balls.

'Why do you go out whenever your daughter is stopping? Do you not want to be with her? Is she such a late riser. What about her boyfriend? Doesn't he get bored sitting around the house alone?'

Harvey shifted in his seat, the warmth of the café, his heavy outside clothes and the food he had eaten, were making him feel hot. His skin was prickling with the budding sweat. He did not want to admit to himself that the proximity of Rita, her full bosom stretching her blouse, the twinkling enquiring eyes, were also adding to the discomfort. He thought of avoiding the question, he could not so he answered it as vaguely as he could.

'They are Okay. They have each other. When you are young sometimes you need a little space, some time alone. It is why they come.'

'To fuck in daddies house, while he politely goes out. Oh don't dress it up Harvey. We were all the same, my parents were a lot stricter than you. I remember sitting up half the night as my dad resolutely stayed up to watch any old rubbish on the television he could to protect his daughters honour from predatory suitors. My mum was better, she had ways of persuading him it was time to leave the young folks alone. I remember giggling into my boyfriends shoulder as the whispered argument upstairs became something else. It used to make us very horny. It was quite disgusting too, imagining your parents.....well lots of things seem ugly when you are younger. Now.... It does explain that flushed look upon your face some mornings. I thought it was just the air.'

Rita leaned further forward, it appeared one of her blouse buttons had come undone at some time because Harvey could see more of her cleavage, the black lace edge to her bra cup, and what looked to be a tiny satin bow nestling between the cups.

'What a shame you haven't got a wife to help ease the tension, distract you from the sounds of your daughter and her boyfriend. Is it difficult for you? My dad hated all of my boyfriends for dirtying his little princess. It took him a long while to speak reasonably to my husband after I became pregnant. Someone had impregnated his little girl.'

'I, I am not like that. I don't think of my daughters as mine, my property, I want the best for them. I worry about them. But I have to accept they are adults now. Just like their mother was, when I was doing the same thing. I just feel well guilty. I shouldn't really be feeling, well you understand.'

'Aroused?' Rita smiled arching her left eyebrow and placing her warm hand over his trembling arm. She could see and feel the tension within him. She could also see the confusion, the embarrassment. She had found him out. She knew he did not have sexual feelings for his daughter, well she had a guess not.

'It's natural Harvey. We are all programmed the same by nature to be stimulated by certain sounds, smells, shapes. Don't be embarrassed, I am sympathising with you, not making fun. I know how it feels to be left wanting. Now because we are alone and I can trust you. I will let you into a little confidence. I love my husband and would never change him.'

Harvey sat up in his chair. He was not sure what she was about to tell him. Did he really want to be her confidante. In what way would Rita's confidence have any bearing on his own personal discomfort. He began to reach for the money he kept in his trouser pocket. Her hand tightened on his arm. He looked into her eyes again. He could see behind the friendly mask, a soft fragility that had not been there before. He laid his hand on top of hers pressing it down onto his wrist.

'My husband Ken who you have met is a lovely man. He has fathered our children, he has always put me and the family first in everything he does. We have been married for over 25 years, we have both changed physically, I have gained some pounds and inches, Ken the same. But you get used to each other. Ken bless him is a few years older than me. By rights he should retire, but when you own a business unless you have a really good pension, it is not an option. It was 2 years ago, when he stopped being intimate. I didn't think anything of it to begin with, he was tired all the usual. But I am still a woman, if you pardon me, I haven't dried up yet, if you understand.'