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One Of those WeeksThey say there is no rest for the wicked, and the next few daysfor me are likely to bear this out, in a flurry of what one of my gentleman friends calls “too much bed and not enough sleep”Fashion legend Coco Chanel is usually credited with designing the “little black dress” in the 1920s and generations of women have been grateful ever since Mind you, I am not sure whether she had women like me in mind when she came up with the idea, though my take on it has usually met with approval I think it may be something to do with the contrasts – on the one hand there’s the stark blackness of the fabric against my pale skin of my lovely full bosom, and on the other the thin, linear appearance of those straps against the soft feminine curves confined within them. Wouldn’t you agreeI have owned this dress for longer than I care to remember, and have lost count of the number of men who must have longed to put their hands just there and squeeze me It has long been a favourite of mine, and I was delighted to find that I could still get into it. I maybe shouldn’t say, but if you want to book me and specify this dress, then you could get into it as wellIt was in this dress that I got a little naughtier than usual once. It was a party – a wedding reception, I think – and the bar at the little country pub where the reception was taking place was packed about five deep. I had worked my way near to the front, right at the right-hand end. Unfortunately, I seemed to be pushed against the wall, with little chance of making my order heard over the disco. I am not the pushiest of people, and in any event, I decided a long time back that careful application of a feminine approach can be just as effective. It was just a case of finding the right candidate.Salvation came with the approach of a regular, a giant of a man that I instinctively knew must be a farmer it’s the big hands. I could see him paying attention to my cleavage as he spoke to the other customers and worked his way to the front of the queue, and we exchanged pleasant smiles. My attempt to speak led to him dropping his head slightly to put his ear next to my mouth and had the no-doubt unexpected side effect of putting his eyes around ten inches from my breasts. I shouted over the music,’Can you do something for me, please’He grinned broadly and replied,’Sure, lass, if you don’t mind doing something for me’It was obviously a joke and equally obviously deadly serious. I told him the drink I was looking to order and he turned away slightly to get on with the serious business of getting served.I looked around. The bar was hectic, it was loud and even if anybody was paying attention they could hardly see me pressed into the wall. On the spur of the moment I decided to treat my Good Samaritan. I pushed my boobs into his back and felt his body stiffen. I stayed there so he could feel the swell of my tits around his kidneys, then sent my right hand on a secret mission to see if I had caused any other stiffening. I gently worked my hand round to his groin, found his zipper, and undid it all the way. My fingertips slipped inside. He turned slightly in my direction. At first, I thought he was going to say something, but I soon worked out he was making it easier for me. I got my whole hand inside his fly and took hold of a very satisfactory piece of meat and began stroking him.Just at that point the barmaid turned to him and said,’Are you OK, Chris, you look a little flushed”I’m fine lass, just a little thirsty, can you get us…’ and he started to place his order. It was a large order, and the barmaid had to make three or four trips. I could see she was still a bit puzzled by his expression, but then again, she couldn’t tell that I was busily wanking his large cock just below the bar top.’Is that everything’ the barmaid asked. I am not quite sure how he kept a straight face and a steady voice as he got closer to coming, but he just about managed.’Oh, and a double gin and tonics for the little lady here.’She turned to fetch my drink, and just at that point my fingers finished working their usual magic. He made an odd, strained kind of moan as he came and I felt his juice pumping over my hand. I rubbed my fingertip over the head of his cock, smoothing the sperm into his skin, then pulled my hand out quickly to take hold of my GTas the barmaid returned. As I picked up the glass I could see a gobbet of sperm on the back of my hand. The barmaid didn’t seem to notice, though I know my new friend did, and just to make the point a little more obvious I leant into his ear and said,’Now how on earth did that get there’Before kissing it away as he watched, hungrily. He looked to be about to say something, but a woman I took to be his wife turned up to give him a hand with the drinks and he quickly zipped up and turned away. He looked back at me and winked. I raised my glass to him, smiled, then nodded in the direction of his trouser pocket. The business card I had slipped in there certainly did the trick though I’m not sure if his wife ever wondered why he suddenly needed to go on more trips to buy livestock –  (Gallery) 

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