Transgressive Thursday, Short Fiction
The Toothless Old Goat and the Stunning Young Waitress
Age is on the outside. It will not stop an old man from appreciating the beauty of a young woman and pondering over memories of youth…
On Monday, Wednesday and Friday, old Mr Nubian always treats himself to lunch at the café on the west side of the city.
He lives on the East.
He watches the self-assured blonde waitress as she moves from table to table, agile as a ballerina on her toes.
More than half his age.
Rosie beguiles and distracts him with her vibrancy, a joy to his eyes and trouble for his already stented heart. If she bends down, showing her cleavage or thighs one more time, he’s sure to need a triple bypass.
But still he stares.
She brings him a bowl of chilli-con-carne. He drools at the sight of them both.
The choice of food is unwise to say the least, it is not a meal someone who has just had a colonoscopy should attempt as a feast.
Rosie looks at the toothless pensioner on the stool and smiles her waitress smile. Thinking, dementia is on the horizon for this old goat with no fish left to fry.
Mr N thinks that leaving extravagant tips gives him the right to undress Rosie in his head. Even though she will never be in his bed.
He yearns for the chance to bruise those lips. Imagining her plump warm flesh up against his sallow, thinning skin. But even if his vision became a reality, he has type 2 diabetes…
His member is never hard; performance in matters that matter, would not even be on the cards!
He ruminates while he eats…
Not too many years before, he was always at the ready. Pulling was easy, he took it in his stride.
A beauty on each arm, and nobody was a match for his good looks and charm.
Then at night scantily clad girls would be on hand ready to be tied and whipped in his specially equipped basement.
He got his pleasure from inflicting pain. Torturing them for his gain.
After, he was always ready to pound the bound, and willing young women, into submission.
Yes, Mr N’s dungeon had once been the talk of the town. It was a place where secrets were made and fantasies came true.
The memories flickered across his mind as he went back to his lair on the east, and the fortunate beauty, Rosie, remained unaware of the beast.
Inspired by a song that my brother-in-law is writing at the moment, about his own experience of being an old man. And by this prompt over on Tantalizing Tales.
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