What a wonderful night! I laughed until my sides ached, danced until my feet were so sore they glowed red, and met a very accomplished stranger.
I have to admit the organisers and the Dorchester Great and Good did the county proud and it looked every inch like the lavish big name charity balls I’ve attended in London.
Everybody wore masks and played their part in creating a wonderfully relaxed and vibrant atmosphere - maybe the little bit of anonymity afforded by a mask released a few inhibitions? I don’t know – whilst I didn’t witness any mass debauchery on scale seen Eyes Wide Shut, people just seemed more ..er.. intimate, but then I’m always a sucker for a room full of men in dinner jackets.
Kate, Jenni and I tried to make an entrance. We were 3 women arriving alone, dressed to kill, hinding behind extravagant masks and showing lots of flesh – how could we fail?. Jenni and I happily conceded that we were completely upstaged by Kate who was attending her first major social event. She did look ravishing and turned heads all night; wearing the Vollers Corset
(I don’t how she managed it in the heat!) I bought her for her 18th Birthday last year with her to die for figure she wasn’t going to do anything else was she? I lent her my pearl choker and, by wearing her mask until late into the night, she looked the epitome of mystery and sophistication.
Regardless of all the worry Kate has caused her mother recently, I could see Jenni was really proud at the sight of her young daughter blossoming into a very beautiful woman.
Though Kingston Maurward looks impressive from a distance, and particularly from the A35 approach to Dorchester, it is actually a warren of deceptively small rooms – the majority of it being given over to the agricultural college.
After what seemed like hours of dancing I took a fresh glass of champagne and slipped out of the main hall and onto the back lawn, kicking off my shoes with a relieved sigh and feeling the tinder dry grass crackle slightly under my stocking clad feet. Looking around I saw I was not alone as several couples had also swapped the stale interior heat for the humidity outside.
Looking back I saw Jenni at the door having her glass filled by a short Welshman who’d be taking a interest in her all night. I remember him distinctly; or rather I remember the piece of food stuck to his goatee beard that bounced as he talked as though it was spring loaded.
I wandered away from the crowd and made my way down to lake, sat carefully on the steep bank at its edge and paddled my feet in the cool water – I’d swear I saw steam! Though cooler than it has been recently, it was still a hot and oppressive night, the complete cloud cover concealed the moon and the stars and it got very dark quickly once the sun had gone down.
I adjusted my stockings and bra which hadsurvived the energetic dancing and heat well. Getting up to go back to the house I sensed somebody close behind me and tensed as I felt lips lightly pressed onto my bare shoulders.
“Don’t turn,” he said “I’ve wanted you all night and I know you want me, I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me.”
Now it is true, there was man – young and strong with a proud, self confident posture – with whom who I’d made eye contact through his black leather mask several times whilst dancing. He has smiled and watched as I careered across the dance floor and I, being brought up to be polite, smiled back. But it wasn’t an invitation.
“It wasn’t and invitation” I replied.
“I disagree” he said firmly.
Now I felt his hands gently on my arms and again his lips brushed across by shoulders and neck. Had I misread the signs? Not like me. Maybe I was just giddy with the heat and the wine? Possibly. Did I resist? Well only briefly and I quickly found myself leaning back into his embrace, offering myself willingly into his increasingly urgent touch and his undoubtedly imaginative whims.
He unzipped my dress to my waist, folded down the floral lace of its bodice and then my bra. I shivered slightly as his hands cupped my breasts taking their weight, my hard nipples pressing into the soft palms of his hands. He was kissing me quickly and firmly now, everywhere his lips could reach they touched, and he stood skin close behind me.
I could feel him growing hard against my lower back and it was no surprise to feel his embrace dissolve, hear the ratchet of his zip and the soft command to sit back on him.
I stepped back I lifted the skirt of my dress. It was so dark now I doubt he saw my stockings but, from the soft murmur I knew he could make out the band of soft, pale thighs at their tops, the suspenders forming vertical bars seemingly protecting the treasure benteath. It’s that Guinness Effect again – never fails.
Dropping to my knees, but not falling forward into the lake (that would have made top ten of my life’s most embarrassing moments!), I reached back and took his impressive hardness in my hands – clearly no encouragement needed here I thought – and guided him towards me.
Now, I’ve been with a few men in my time, some big, some small, some wide and thin and I know straight away how satisfying their company is going to be. They’ve all been ..er.. ‘nice’ but only a few have been instantly ‘Wow!’. As my stranger slid inside me I knew he was going to be WOW to a degree that makes Wow seems inadequate.
His hands were now firmly on my waist – this was clearly a dance that he was going to lead – and he steadied my balance lest I fell into the dark waters in front of me. I felt him travel deep inside with a slow considered move that filled me completely, his head seeking and finding every pleasure rich square inch of me.
And there we stayed, slowly and rhythmically exploring, finding and indulging each other’s desires at a slowly increasing tempo conducted by the firm, strong hands on my sides. Each growing thrust adding to the rapidly accumulating pleasure and irresistible impatience until, with a gasp, I could wait no longer. I shook off his hands and drove myself to a climax by rocking urgently and unstoppably with him deep inside me, my fingers deftly playing tunes of their own, until I sank back onto him, gasping and shivering with the intensity of the finale.
We stayed like for a few minutes until I regained my breath and could bear his touch on me again. A distant giggle and “shhhh” told us we were not alone and we scrambled to regain our clothes and dignity – avoiding the awkward silence that always seems to follows sex with a stranger.
“Zip me up please?” I asked but the silence told me he had gone as stealthily as he had arrived and I was left to walk back to the house alone and partially undone.
Jenni met me, asked me why I’d disappeared as she needed saving from a Welshman. I just smiled, my cheeks flushed with the night, and asked her to fasten my dress as she had done back at my house just 4 hours earlier.
All because the lady loves glamorous lingerie that caresses her body, seducing her with the touch of lace and silk, her soft yielding skin encased in rolled silk or nylon seamed stockings, breasts cupped in uplifting bras, basques, camisoles and accessible in open panties. If a man doesn’t take advantage of her delights she always has her vibrator, her trusty rabbit, and toys to pass the night