T was a 'First-Timer,' 'Thank you Frances, I had a really marvellous time, can I come back and see you again soon,' 'But of course T, I shall look forward to it.'

I didn't hear back from him until some six months later, and resigned that he'd chalked me up as an experience, before moving on to tick his remaining '10 things to do before you die' bucket list, as seems to be the fashion these days.
So, it was nice when he turned up again with a fresh packet of cigarettes, a new three-pack of white G-string panties and a few porn magazines. It wasn't a complicated request; whilst wearing nothing but these skimpy white knickers, I was to draw upon a cigarette whilst nonchalantly leafing through the provided porn mags.
I'm not a smoker (the odd cigar, don't swallow), I was required to merely suck in and puff out, all very film noir style. I took up smoking at the age of twelve until I was thirteen, typical behind the bike-shed stuff.  One day I thought to myself, why am I doing this, it's costing me all my pocket money and I hate the stuff anyway; peer pressure I guess? 

Youth, it's wasted on the young and will always be.
I sat upon the bed, T on the chair, he wearing a pair of white knickers too, though not as comfortably fitting as mine; black tights and strappy six-inch scarlet red shoes that he'd bought on his way over to see me. They had large platform soles, compared to the simple elegance of stilettos I found them rather unflattering, each to their own.
I pulled slowly and seductively upon an ultra long slim cigarette, exhaling wisps of smoke and leafing through pages of naked biker girls and attractive mature women, my other hand was in my knickers playing with cock.
'Frances, can you turn around and kneel on the bed with your bottom in the air,' I obliged and held the position for some fifteen minutes, as every few minutes T would adjust my knickers before sitting down to play with his cock again. 
'Would you mind if I come over your knickers and bottom now,' he asked, they were T's knickers after all; it was only a minute before I felt a warm trickle running down my outer thigh.
'Do you think you can make use of these shoes Frances, they're brand new,' 'Well not personally T, they're size ten, but I can donate them to my little dressing-up box if that's OK with you?
Now here's some good news, playmate Sophie has a new Blog; it makes for a delightfully naughty and erotic read, check it out soonest, there's even a story of yours truly. Sophie's Blog Sophie's Blog
What I'm listening to in bed...
The Shipping Forecast: BBC Radio Four 00:48

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