Handsy Patrons

The night begins when the farmers are done working. About a dozen men come in.

"Hey, Barkeep! Get all my boys a round," says one of them. He is a muscular older man, probably an ex-soldier. The entire group sits at a table close to the entrance.

"Yes, James," the bartender says. He fills up several mugs of ale onto a tray. "New girl, take these to the farmers."

"Yes, sir," you say, picking up the tray. With your breasts you have trouble holding it in front of you. Melody helps you by shifting it to your right shoulder.

"You'll want to hold it with your right arm and shoulder," Melody says, "It's a lot more stable and it gives the men a bit of a show."

You nod as much as you can as you take the tray to the men. Bending down you place the tray before them. You feel your ass pinched.

"Oh," you gasp.

The men all chuckle, you can't easily tell who did it.

"You are a new sight," says James. "What's your name, lass?"

"Isabel," you smiling as genuinely as you can.

"Pretty name for a pretty girl," he says putting a handful copper coins into your hand. "Keep the change."

You turn around back to the bar. There are a few whistles as you sashay away from them. Maybe this won't be so bad, you think.

"Hey, hot ass!" yells a drunkard in the corner. "I need a refill!"