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By *aul-C OP TV/TS
3 weeks ago
Winsford |
Dave and his young lad had famously seen me when I was out walking in the early hours a good few years ago. They, or rather Dave, had seen where I went and he had posted a scrawled note and put it through my letter box.
It basically said “we know what you are” and amongst other comments said they had heard my high heels before they saw me and that my black seamed stockings were “a dead giveaway you tart”.
I was in shock but there was nothing I could do, I wondered what would have happened had my wife seen the note, but she hadn’t and was still away for another ten days with her sister.
I resolved to front it up and for a few nights I drove around intending to “bump into them” and failed miserably until the 3rd night when I saw their milk float.
I’d parked up a good few hundred metres away and despite my high heels being rather noisy there was no sign of them until finally from a hidden spot around 30 metres away I saw him doing his round.
Eventually I plucked up the courage and was sat on a wall nearby when he saw me. He immediately smiled which pleased me and looked me up and down. He approached me, and whispered “take the 2nd right up there and wait for me at the start of the alley, I’ll be a few minutes”.
Without even considering why, I did as I was told and stood at the entrance to a dimly lit alley between the houses and with the gentle breeze wafting across my stocking tops I waited. My bra, panties and suspenders matched in black, my nude RHT nylons shimmered in what light there was and my platform sling backs were too high and my mini-dress was too short.
It was not long before he appeared, from the other end of the alley, he was a tall man at around 6’2” so in my heels he looked me in the eye. With no more then a gesture from his piercing eyes I dropped onto my haunches, my dress rode up and I exposed my stocking tops and suspenders as he unbuckled, and pulled his cock clear of his jeans and boxers.
He was big and hard, a good 6+ inches I thought and thick too as I took his shaft in my hand and peeled him back sufficiently to lick his big knob and start sucking him. He held my head, well face really with his big rough hands and fucked my mouth.
With my red lipstick marking his cock he quickly picked up the pace and was soon stifling his grunting as holding me tightly he deposited a big load in my mouth, overflowing onto my dress and stockings as he drained every drop into me.
He used his shrinking cock to slap me about the face and saying “here again tomorrow” and walked away before turning briefly and saying with some authority “wear a short skirt and seamed stockings”.
The next night I was waiting as he’d ordered and this time most of his juice ended up in my belly.
This went on for quite a while, he was sympathetic to if my wife was around, always wanted stockings, high heels and a short skirt or dress. He liked me in a blonde wig, and always wanted a lipstick ring around his shaft.
I never saw his lad again, he must’ve been in his late teens and I’d fanaticised about them both having me but it never happened. He varied the location, but always dumped a load in me, when he started fucking me it was against the wall, then from behind and a good few times I was spread over the deck of his truck.
He liked me to look as I was, a tart, his tart, and if he said be somewhere I was, he used both my holes regularly and occasionally both. After he’d had his way with me I always licked him clean.
My face, hair and clothes often got caked in spunk.
He’d leave notes for me, telling me where and when to be the next time and I always made sure I was, if I couldn’t I’d leave a note explaining and it all worked rather well.
Then out of the blue there was no note, I left one asking what I should do and after checking for a week or more I got the message that he’d gone. I did go looking for him, I’d find milkmen doing their stuff but never him and a few years back I gave up looking.
Tonight, a few hours ago in fact, I was out walking, and was maybe 400 metres from my car when I saw another milk float, this one looked fairly familiar though, a tiny little blue Suzuki flat bed. I couldn’t get a clear view but convinced myself it was him.
I snook up to his float, and as he went off on his delivery I clambered onto the back, crossed my legs making sure my black lace-top stockings were on show, licked my glossed lips and admired my own stiletto heeled black patent court shoes, and waited.
Soon enough, he appeared at the corner, turned and started to walk towards me as my pounding heart got faster and faster. I tightened my crossed legs, no doubt showing more, of the nylon and the suspenders, and with my mouth dry I anticipated him lubricating it.
Then, too late, and to my horror I realised it wasn’t him !! |
