Cocktail bar, mmm, for me this was beginning to sound like a
‘Pretty Women’ moment. I had decided on
a favourite black cocktail dress and pair of black strappy sandals with 6 inch
heels. A plunge bra which creates a
wonderful natural cleavage, sheer black Wolford stockings and a skimpy black
thong were to complete the transformation from working girl to classy cocktail
bar girl. I should add that my black cocktail dress is very short and only just
covers the tops of my hold up stockings.
As the sun disappeared the temperate on this late November
afternoon outdoors was dropping rapidly, but for me my heart was beginning to
race and I could feel my face flushing at the thought of my rapidly approaching
blind date.
Putting on my short winter’s coat, I grabbed my small hand
bag and walked to my car. The drive to
London was slow in the late afternoon traffic.
Cutting through Regents Park I made my way along the Euston Road in the
almost stationary traffic, turning left at Euston Station towards the Ibis
Hotel.
Amazingly for me I was arriving within a minute of our
agreed time. Standing in the hotel
doorway was my date Peter, looking dapper in his pinstriped business suit and
raincoat with a work briefcase. Before I
could adjust my heels, I found Peter at the car window, looking relieved that I
had turned up (and on time!).
Getting from a sports car in 6 inch heels is always a small
challenge and as I rose up straight I was aware of how tall I seemed to be. As I approached Peter and could see him
eyeing me up, an evaluation of sexiness perhaps as I walked towards him. Putting my hands on his waist I planted a
first kiss on his lips. I asked if I was
acceptable for his evening date? I would
not be offended if I was not what my blind date expected and would happily have
driven back home. From the very big
smile on his face I could see that I had hit the right mark. He was delighted with what was now in his
arms.
“Let’s get a taxi” Peter suggested and at that moment one
appeared at the end of the street. My
date dashed off to hail the taxi as I walked across the road in front of the
taxi and I noticed the taxi driver eyeing me up.
Entering the back of the London Taxi Peter was keen to put
his hands on my legs and we had another kiss.
I could see him being pleased with how I looked and felt. Looking forward I could not help noticing how
the taxi driver was still looking at me.
In fact he had difficulty taking his eyes off me. Did he find me attractive? Was he trying to
decide if I was a real girl or a Tgirl? Did he think I was an Escort? Was he
contemplating if I would be a good lay? Was he jealous of my date?
Our taxi journey was very short and soon we were at the 5 star
St. Pancras Renaissance Hotel. On
arrival the doorman opened the taxi door.
The taxi driver was still watching my every move. What was he thinking?The taxi door opened and I have never seen a door man be so taken aback as I stepped from the taxi.
I literally saw his jaw drop as first appeared 6 inch heels,
then legs which to him must have seemed as if they went on for ever, with a
glimpse of stocking top.
Quickly Peter paid the taxi and arm in arm we walked into
this famous hotel, heading for the Gilbert Scott cocktail bar. Crossing the hotel reception other guests
were causally watching me. The
combination of high heels and a short skirt is certainly a head turner. I cannot deny that catching men watching me
from a distance is a turn on. What are
they thinking? Am I arousing basic desires in them? Are they fantasying being with me? Am I a sensual mystery?
The bar was busy with hotel guests, travellers waiting for a
train, shoppers, party goers and businessmen.
We found a small table with three bar stools and settled in for the
evening.
Peter started by sitting opposite, but needed little
encouragement to move to the stool at the side of me. I put my heels on the bar of his stool and
deliberately ensured that one of my legs was strategically placed between his
legs.
Taking the lead Peter quickly asked for a wine list and food
menu. Two glasses and a smooth bottle of red win soon appeared, followed
shortly by a range of tapas. The chink
of glasses was followed by flowing conversation covering my likes and dislikes,
work, travel and even world events.
Conversation was easy with the fine wine and tapas. The more we talked, the closer we sat, his
hands gently exploring above my knee and touching the hem of my short skirt.
Sat on the bar stool, I was aware of the large expanse of
stocking clad leg that I was showing to the world. As I wriggled on the stool, others in the bar
would catch a glimpse of my stocking tops.
I noticed two waiters talking while looking at us. What were they thinking and saying?
Strangely my mind drifted back to when I was a young
teenager and used to come to London by train shopping. It took around 2 hours, so was always a
special event. I remembered the
excitement of exploring the shops in Oxford Street but especially those in the
Kings Road and Soho where I my first sexy clothes and fetish items. Often I would miss the last train home and
sleep on the benches in the stations cold waiting room. The Gilbert Scott bar used to be the old
Ticket and waiting room area at St. Pancras.
It was strange to see how an old cold and dirty space had been
transformed into a luxury 5 star cocktail bar.
I was brought back to the present as Peters hand casually
slipped under the hem of my cocktail dress to touched my ‘T-Girl’ surprise,
followed by a passionate kiss. I was
aware of his other hand sliding up the outside of my leg. His fingers under the edge of my skirt and
then around to top of my stockings.
“Would you like one of your presents now” Peter asked. “Of course” I replied. I swelled with excitement of the thought of a
surprise present. To know that someone
has spent time thinking of what to buy, then going out of their way to get to
the right shop to buy it make a TGirl feel very special.
Peter pulled from his suit pocket a dark blue velvet bag,
gently fondling it his hand. “Be
careful” he said, “it’s a lot heavier than I had imagined”. As he passed the present over, my hear began
to race. Something instinctively told me
what to expect … a butt plug! But this
was a small and quite heavy little present in its dark blue velvet bag.
I know understood why Peter had been fondling it before
giving it to me, it was so smooth and so well balanced. I could see in Peters
eyes that he wanted me to insert it there and then, but in a busy bar such
things are not possible. I considered
taking it to the toilet to insert, but that was a long walk across the hotel
receptions cobbled floor and down stairs.
This was such an expensive and intimate give for Peter to
give. One which would be worn for him
every time we meet. I know I have a very
tight pussy, but I was sure this would be a luxury to ware.
I lent forward and gave Peter a long and sensuous kiss. I had a mix of emotions from pleasure to
feeling 110% feminine and sexy. Such an intimate
gift is a true reflection of desire.
Discreetly I placed this functional work of art in my handbag.
Peter said he had a couple more presents, but they were for
later and he hoped they would fit.
I ran my hands over Peters thighs; around the upper part of
his leg and in between his legs, deliberately giving a fleeting brush of his
‘manhood’. As expected he was rock
hard. By now we were looking deep into
each other’s eyes. I could see what he
most desired and he wanted it now.
I squeezed his right leg between my sexy long stocking
legs. The other hand I moved to his groin, to find that he
had a massive hard on. I could not help
myself in explore this. Peter was sat in
front of me, in his suit, looking deep into my eyes with a 7 inch rock hard manhood sticking up in his trousers.
My right hand explored up this massive shaft towards its
bulbous head of pleasure, only to find (whether by planning or a clothing
malfunction) that Peters trousers at the top was slightly open.
I could not stop my fingers from exploring inside. Within seconds my hand was on the top of his
bare manhood as we sat in this exclusive cocktail bar. The thought of Peters cock being fondled by
me in a cocktail bar drew a large smile to my face.
Gently and discreetly I started to fondle then massage the
head of his cock and started to explore down its long, rigid shaft. I felt passion rising in my body. I knew from this moment what I was holding in my hand was destined for
me. Something for me to pleasure and I
suspected something that in time would be pleasuring in me.
Given a different and not so public location, I would have
wanted to knee in front of Peter there and then, taking him deep in my warm
moist mouth. My one desire at this
moment, was to deep throat Peter. To
watch his eyes as he shoots his ‘seeds of life’ deep inside me, to taste him in
that intimate way as it runs down the back of my throat.
A while back Peter had asked for the bill and we were so
engrossed in being intimate, that we were unaware that the waiter had made his
way over. My first reaction was to
remove my hand, but Peter promptly put his hand on mine and from his instant
look I knew that I was meant to leave it covering the top of his rigid manhood.
Peter turned to give the waiter his credit card and his suit
jacket gave some coverage as he typed in his pin. “I think I need to find the toilet”, Peter
commented as the waiter moved off.
Holding his suit jacket closed he left the bar and disappeared into the
reception area in search of the toilets.
My mind was racing with a variety of thoughts, my default
instinct was to open my small handbag and touch up my dark red lipstick. Peter had obviously been studying me during
the evening, as his first comment on returning to the table was to mention how
nice it was to see that I had touched up my lipstick.
Time to move, we had been in the bar for nearly 3
hours. Some quick photos on my iPhone
and time to slip off the bar stool and put my short black winter coat back
on. Standing up I was aware how my 6 inch
heels made so tall and leggy. Arm in arm
we walked out of the hotel, with one or two in reception watching me tottering
along.
On leaving the hotel we decided to walk back to Euston
Station and the Ibis Hotel. It was dark
and cold outside. The wind was blowing
through my hair as we joined the throng of people making the commute along the
Euston Road.
Holding Peters we walked among the travellers, commuters,
tourists and locals. I was very conscious of the very short dress I was wearing
and my 6 inch heals. I mentioned to
Peter that I hope that my stocking tops at the back were not showing and that I
was not arousing to much interest. He
smile at the exact moment that an elderly lady dragging her suit case walked
past in the opposite direction. She stop
and turned round to view me, which seemed to amuse Peter.
We walked passed the Novotel Hotel, viewing people in the
restaurant having dinner. Past a local
pub where only the bouncers watched my every movement.
By the time we reached Euston my feet were being to hurt. It’s not walking in 6 inch heels that was the
problem, but walking in 6 inch heels on rough and broken pavements. We cut across the busy foyer of Euston
Station, passing the hordes of commuters and travellers looking longingly at the
departure board for their train and platform.
As we walk up towards the Ibis Hotel and where my car was
parked, Peters arm came around my waist.
Instinctively I move his hand onto my bottom. As walked along his hand slip down to the hem
of my cocktail dress and very quickly to the top of my stockings. I stopped and turned towards him., moving
backwards to the station wall. Arms
around his waist and his on my bottom we embraced with a long, deep and
meaningful kiss. Opposite there were three businessmen having
a smoke and watching our every move.
As we moved on, Peters hand slipped between my cheeks and I
felt one of his fingers pressing against my moist pussy. I was only wearing a thong! As we slowly
walked I felt his finger beginning to push into me. It was such I an amazing feeling.
The young people walked passed us. They were in their own world of love and
excitement. To them Peter and myself
were just an older couple kissing in the street. Before anyone else could appear I some how
tucked my TGirl surprise into the elastic top of my knickers and together we
quickly crossed the street to my car.
I knew Peter had to leave quite quickly for his train at
Marylebone. He was looking for a
goodnight kiss, but I want him to have a little more. There was no hesitation to join me for a few
minutes in my two seater car, a car designed for driving fun, not the
practicalities of lovemaking.
As I kissed Peter I ran my hand across his nipples and down
to his crutch. Yes his man hood was
still rock hard and at attention in his trousers. I have know idea if he hand pants on or was
just commando style.
Carefully I unzipped his trousers and with a quick look in
the passenger car mirror, then out of the wind screen to ensure now one was
passing, I dropped my head down, gently taking him in my mouth. I want to give him a taste of what he could
expect in the future.
Peter must have be a good 7 inches in length and I wanted as
much as possible. First I licked the
head of his manhood. Gently rubbing it
through my tight lips into my warm moist mouth.
As I licked under the head of his manhood Peter began to moan gently in
pleasure.
I kept looking up and occasionally had to stop as people
walked by the car. As so as the passed I
sank down on Peter again. Quite
challenge in small car, over the gear stick in a busy street.
The time for Peter to leave can before I could finish my
task. He was torn between catching his
train or staying for personal pleasure.
Carefully I tucked him back in and zipped his trousers. A parting kiss
and Peter disappeared into the night.
Driving home I had many thoughts exciting my mind. How I had enjoyed my evening. What a wonderful person Peter was. Did he
enjoy his evening with me? Would we meet
again?
On arriving home, I could not wait to try on this other
gifts and the see how the butt plug would feel.
Peter had given me a pair of red silk tie knickers that feel so sexy on
and a matching bra. I stood in by bedroom now dressed only in his gifts with a
black pair of stocking and my 6 inch sandal heels. In my hand was his stainless steel butt plug, heavy but so smooth. I fondled and caressed it in my hand, then added a little lube to its tip. I lent forward and gently pushed to against the lips of my pussy. At first my body resisted, then suddenly like a bullet it shot insider me, a sensation I have never previously experienced. I quickly ran my hand over my buttocks to my pussy and to my relieve felt the crystal at the end of the plug.
Turning to the wardrobe mirror I could see the crystal
glistening in the bedroom light and I knew that Peter had achieved one of his
objectives this evening, ownership of an intimate part of me.
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