Docean wrote: ↑Tue Aug 06, 2024 6:05 amSunday - Mark; It’s been a long busy week for me. Dawn was buzzing from the “Kit phone-call’ on Wednesday afternoon and I haven’t seen her since Thursday afternoon, when she drove to Philips apartment in Wandsworth. She came home Friday morning phoned me and didn’t seem particularly enthralled at the previous evening’s adventure. I got home to find her taking a bit of time sorting herself out for the jaunt to Hampshire in the afternoon with long bath, gunge on her face which frightened me let alone the horses, moaning about bags under her eyes, swearing she’ll put sleeping pills in Philips coffee next time. How ungrateful.
I’ll let Dawn tell you her adventures of derring-do. But I’ll just mention the wedding on Saturday was very nice, Dawn’s friend’s daughter got hitched. Her 20ish year old friends had tits and bums on show, no decorum (or class), it sometimes can be too much.
The best man, a tall, very handsome 28 year old, his resolve obviously bolstered by a few sherbets, cornered Dawn in the Hotel corridor and gave what she thought was going to be a kiss on the cheek, which slipped and became a tonsillectomy and a brazen squeeze of her tits, which she managed to control after he declared she was the most beautiful MILF and he had no interest in women of his age. A very vain Dawn returned to our table with the tale adding he had a very impressive hard-on. It’s an age thing, but we were home and in bed by 11. ‘To sleep, perchance to dream’ (Bill Shakeshaft). ‘Knackered’ (Mark C).
Today. Dawn; Apologies, trying to get my thoughts together and organise a surprise presentation.
Thursday last; I went up to meet Philip, Had to try to be enthusiastic as Kit has captured my thoughts for the moment. Philip was charming as usual, it was a warm evening so I wore a midi brown pattern on white summer dress, buttoned front mostly unbuttoned. We went to Battersea for dinner and Philip was very attentive and drank quite a bit more than usual. It seems ungrateful but I hoped he might want to go off to sleep quicker, that is so bad, isn’t it? I wanted to be fighting fit for Kit. As it happened, Philip just wanted a good fuck and slept like a baby. Result all round. Friday morning all he wanted was a blow job; suits me. No breakfast, he was hung over, unlike him likes to be in control and I wanted to get back and prepped for the evening.
The rendezvous; The Pig hotel in Brockenhurst this time. Mark, sarcastic sod asked was I collecting ‘flying pig miles’? I put my dress in a dress carrier, shoes, overnight (hopefully) bag and put them across the back seat. Bathed, shaved everything and just took some relax time for me. Dinner was 7.30 for 8 and satnav journey was going to be 1 1/2 hours so I’ll allow 2 for comfort and a chance to change and fresh up. So, comfortable button up denim shirt dress and sandals, good weather, roof down. I really like this car.
I arrived at 6.40. The drive up to the hotel was so beautiful as was the hotel itself, like stepping back 100 years. No sign of Kit’s Range Rover, so I went to reception asked if he had arrived? No, good. Has he booked a room? yes. May I use it to freshen up and change? Of course. Please don’t tell him I’m here as I’d like to make an entrance. Not a problem Madam. Fantastic service from the guy at reception. Wow.
Guys, don’t overestimate a woman. I was absolutely shaking. Hands, legs, wet, in anticipation, this was not good. Pull yourself together! I dressed and applied the war paint.
I’ve been told to elaborate on the dress, it’s one of Mark’s favourites. I had chosen a plum coloured silk dress to below the knee, short sleeves and the front came to the neck, over my shoulders into a wide V at the back to a low waist. There! Obviously no bra which meant my nipples would be plain to see, and with the silk rubbing them they would look like raspberries, big raspberries, can’t be helped and actually, what I want. Brazen. One last look in the mirror, plum lipstick, dark hair brushed back, black patent clutch bag for lipstick, credit card and phone, and of course, black patent stilettos, a girls best friend. 7.30. I felt good - here we go.
I came down the stairs and just before i walked into the bar area, like a slapper gave both my nipples a good pull, what a tart. Walking into the lounge I saw Kit - and another couple, wasn’t expecting that. Big smile. Huge welcome from Kit, which was so lovely and then introduced to Jan and her business associate, aren’t they all, his name I can’t remember. All eyes on my tits which made them worse. Jan was dressed in very nice sage green, long sleeved cotton dress to the calf, one of those horrible solid front bra’s, makes you look like your tits in the box; and no nipples. Everything appeared safe, I’ll bet she’s a lot of fun in the sack. She’s an architect and planner, he’s a Land Agent, I learned later he sniffs out building land. Still none the wiser on either and they are definitely boring. Both married but not to each other. I wonder? Nah.
It appeared like a ‘get to know you’ meeting for these two and me? I’ll ask later.
Dinner was absolutely lovely, Kit was very attentive, Jan appeared put out, I got the impression, though she was with ‘him’ she fancied Kit. Kit played footsie under the table and made a couple of quiet comments about my dress and tits. Going well.
Just before 11 everyone decided to call it an evening, then was the expose of who goes to whose room? Kit said he’d escort me to ‘my’ room down the corridor from his, and they just scurried off to fuck knows where. I didn’t mention, but the rooms are really nice, olde worlde and the bed is so comfortable. I am not a Piggy sponsor by the way.
We got inside the room, closed the door and Kit pressed me against the wall with the loveliest kiss and 2 handed squeeze of my arse, pulling the cheeks apart and the lips of my pussy. I asked about the other couple, he said, they were pretending they weren’t shagging, which caused a laugh. He sat on the bed as I stepped out of my dress. I’m not going to pretend, stood in just stilettos. His silent reaction pleased me no end. “Your turn’. He undressed and I was also very pleased. Strong arms, hairless body except for his groin, and a very nice cock indeed. Thick, 7 plus in length, uncut as they say, and hard as a rock. Being very warm we lay on top of the bed. Thankfully he’s a tit man but soon disappeared below, he pulled my cheeks wide apart and dined out for ages, a very educated tongue. I was embarrassed at how wet I was, but he said he loved it and gave me a lovely orgasm. He was about to slip his cock into my pussy, I pushed him over and gave him tingly nipples and he said a ‘shattering blow job’. As he was going to come he tried to push me away, why? So I stayed. Got him hard again (big pharma) climbed on top and let that lovely cock slip all the way up, he pinched my nipples quite hard, ‘harder, you won’t hurt me’ I demanded. He did. I fell forward onto him, kissing him for all I was worth, starting to come as he slipped a finger into my backside, that did it, i was off again.
Saturday morning he watched me dress in my trusty denim shirt dress, curious about lack of underwear. Worn only the exception I told him. Even pants? Yes. He gave me a hug and said, best news yet. We must have looked absolutely fucked at breakfast. I’d guess I had 2 hours sleep and as Mark commented later, a very high sperm count. He was amazing, every position going, constantly kissing , sucking, biting my boobs, and a love bite on my right boob, which I knew I would have to explain later. No sign of the other couple, either left early or still deep in prayer.
Kit said he didn’t want a one off. I agreed. Was I going to tell my husband? Pregnant silence. ‘It won’t trouble him. Do you want me to?’ I’d rather not as long as you’e ok. ‘OK’. That seems to be men all over. He said he’d ring me on Wednesday next with something I’d be happy with. happy me driving back singing along with the radio. Then I realised and said out loud ’ Fucking wedding, bollocks!’ I had completely forgotten.
Saturday; Wedding, a good friend’s daughter, was getting married to a nice guy, both late twenties. The bride was a friend of my eldest son, who was also there. A lovely occasion all went well. I kept getting the ‘eye’ from the best man, who in fairness was rather attractive, he also gave one of the funniest and embarrassing speeches I’d ever heard. I played it all straight, it was my friends daughter’s wedding after all, and my sonny dil were there. Even though her friends were half naked, DIL Liz included. Just a sea of tits wherever you looked, and Mark did.
All the usuals being done, the evening event began, live band I was wearing my trusty Glossy bra for decency so I could dance. Yes I did dance with Paul the Best man, trying to shove his hard-on against me to prove he was the best man. Mark said he thought best man’s perks were the bridesmaids. I did say to Mark around 10 I’d like to go as I was absolutely done in. He agreed, so I popped to the loo. On the way back I got cornered by Paul, I said WE were just off, he leaned down to as I thought, kiss my cheek and ended up with his tongue down my throat and his hand massaging my boobs. Why not, so I responded with my best kiss and rubbed his cock inside his unzipped trousers, I did that. Before he got too carried away, I pushed him back, said, “I have to go. My husbands waiting for me. By the way the blonde in the red dress has it bad for you. She’s been smiling and showing you her tits all night, you’ll be ok there’. He said, he’d rather just pop into a side room to finish what we’d started. I kissed him on the lips and squeezed his cock again, said, ‘good night and good luck, don’t waste that’. Joined Mark and headed home. Removed my make up, quick shower, into bed and asleep before Mark turned the light out.
Easy Sunday morning, easy shag telling Mark all. Thankfully we love it.
- Really enjoy those sort of 'time capsule' places and to have the staff being as discreet, excellent.
- Yes, thanks. Really enjoy visualizing what a HW wears, it does help to stimulate the imagination. The 'act' can only be described so many ways, but a HW's 'look' is another matter all together.
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- Damn, don't you hate when that happens.
- 100 year old charm, that's not so fun.
- Gently throbbing, I hope, to remember Kit by until he calls on Wednesday.
- Partly due to your tutelage?
- A swing, a miss and a strike out.
!