Pale. Overweight. Ugly. Lonely. Depressed.*We'd got chatting in a bar after I'd accidentally trodden on her toe – both drunk but she more drunk than...me – and admitted towards the end of the evening she'd had a rough time when she had been younger, hinted at abuse.Damaged and vulnerable, I'd concluded as I'd given her my mobile number - my kind of female.I'd met her the next day for a coffee in town and she'd been uglier than I'd recalled: beady little brown eyes too close together set in a. “Mmmmm, she does look tasty,” she leaned over and whispered in his ear.“We definitely need to find out,” he said with a low growl.As the pretty young blonde got up from her seat, she watched as she walked past them and checked her out. He tight little heart shaped ass looked perfect in the hot pink spandex dress she must of had to wiggle into.“Excuse me for a moment,” she said to Ben as she shimmied off her bar stool.“Of course, Baby,” he said with a wink.As she slowly slid up behind the hot. Pardon the pun. The idea was to tow her through the water, she would just float and I would pull her along, holding her across her chest ... her breast nestled nicely in my hand. She never said no to the game and she never told me to stop ... we just kept at it until I was tired. We practiced this a couple of times a week for a couple of summers.I have no idea if she was even aware I was feeling her up ... and I was so young I really didn't even realize exactly what I was doing. I just knew her. If my oaf of a husband will let me, I'll tell you why." Oaf... ?" the injured husband said, as if he could barely speak."Go ahead, Maryanne. Explain." Why should she-" Hold off, Steve, let her talk and then you'll get your chance." It's simple. My husband doesn't have a clue how to make a woman happy?" Well that's simple enough, Maryanne. Perhaps you might elab-" If she would try to get into it, we would-" Me? You're blaming me. You're-" If you two would stop interrupting each other, maybe we.
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