Doing A Carol 16
Dear Diary.
It’s nearly time.
Only half an hour to go and again, I’m so nervous. I don’t know why as I know what to expect this time, but my rosè filled stomach is bubbling away.
I know I’m excited, curious and horny, but that’s no excuse as to how I feel as I do. Is this normal behaviour? Does everyone feel like this when they’re on a promise? Or am I being a silly middle-aged woman who’s worrying about nothing?
Anyway, I take my last look at myself in my full length antique mirror to see my reflection.
As requested, I’m dressed in that sheer crotchless bodystocking, along with a flimsy cream blouse which is tight fitting around my ample breasts and nicely frames my erect nipples that are clearly visable through the blouse.
I’m also wearing a very short black skirt to which, when I bend over, my bottom wants to pop out from underneath the black fabric to say hello.
The look is very officy. Very secretarial. Very naughty.
I’m sure Michael will approve of the desired image. Oh yes, Michael will definitely approve! And I’m hoping, in one way or another, he will show his approval by the growth in the trouser department.
Beep beep. Ooh there he is.
His car has appeared outside on my pebbled driveway and the master impatiently awaits. Yes, he can wait.
Now that I’m ‘dressed’ for his delight, although my outfit does feel freeing and empowering, I wave out of my bedroom window, lock up the house and jump into the car.
‘Good evening.’ Michael kisses me on the cheek. ‘Again, you look stunning.’
‘Thank you,’ I smiled. I see you’ve made an effort!’ My sarcastic remark was about his white t shirt and tight jeans.
‘It’s all about you tonight,’ he replied, quickly and slickly changing the subject.
Yes, it is about me, you hunky slippery fish. You know I’m just letting you think that you’re in control, don’t you?
I tapped his denim clad knee. ‘Shall we?’
‘Yes, let’s go!’
Having passed ‘our pub’ as I’m now calling it, twenty minutes later we pulled up at the designated car park, only to find that it wasn’t as quiet as it was yesterday.
As we drove around slowly in the dark, crunching over the cracked paving whilst looking for an inconspicuous place to park, I noticed there were about four cars and a white van all dotted around the small tarmac area, all with their lights off, though clearly had people sitting in them as I could see their shadowy outlines moving about.
Strange for a Sunday night, as you would have thought people be at home with their families, rather than hanging around in a dodgy out of town car park, wouldn’t you?
Yes, it was strange. It wasn’t like this last night. Last night the car park was deserted.
So what had changed?
Was this the usual gathering for a Sunday night? Had the word gotten out that something was happening? A fumble in the jungle perhaps?
Or, with my suspicious mind, had Michael orchestrated the whole event and circulated an advert within the dogging community saying that I was making a guest appearance tonight as the star attraction?
Whatever it was, tonight was going to be different.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something in the air, like an electrifying element of tension mixed with an aroma of anticipation.
Having parked in a secluded corner, tucked beneath some bushes which blocked us from any distractions coming from the main road, Michael turned off the headlights and we momentarily sat in silence. I could hear his breath becoming faster. The excitement was building and not just in his trousers.
‘So what do we do now?’ I asked.
‘We just sit and wait.’
‘Wait for what?’
‘For the fun to start,’ he said touching my knee.
‘And how do we know when it’s started?’ I thought it was a silly question, but needed to say it. ‘Do we need to do anything?’
‘There are several ways to show interest.’
‘Oh. And what’s that?’
‘Well, for instance, we can flash our headlamps and start the fun off ourselves.’ His hand slid up and down my thigh.
‘Oh.’
‘Or we can watch what happens and join in the fun.’
‘I see. Are there any other signs of what we should look out for?’
‘Oh my sweet, pure innocent slut, he purred. ‘If you want to be watched having fun, all we have to do is turn the interior car light on and see if anyone comes over, like moths to the light.’
‘And if they did come over, what happens next?’
‘It depends on who wants to play and what they want to do,’ he replied. ‘Remember, you have the power here and not the men.’
Men? How many are expcted to turn up? Could I handle such an army of cock sure guys?
‘I see,’ I nodded as a looked over to a man having a smoke by his car. He looked back, but no reaction.
‘Or if people are feeling really adventurous, they go for a walk in the woods and see what happens.’
‘Well I’m not going for a walk in these heels.’
Michael grinned and turned to watch the man opposite who had just stubbed his cigarette out. ‘What about him?’
‘What about him?’
‘Wanna try him out?’
It was such a loaded question. Am I ready to be mishandled again or go even further.
‘Give me a few more minutes, to think about it,’ I said as I closed my eyes.
‘Take your time. But remember, you’re MY slut.’
#kinkyklobber #doingacarol #talesofahotwife