How it all started

When I was a student at university, I did something that even immediately after I had let it happen I couldn't believe I'd allowed it.

As my boyfriend (my future husband) I used to dress a bit crazy back then: left-field, real hipster chick. It was April and I was wearing a very short smock dress over dark-gray opaque tights. The dress barely covered my backside but the tights were dense so I did not feel exposed. In my naivety, I was thinking of them as leggings, but looking back they were certainly not that.

It was a Saturday afternoon and I was in a creepy bar chosen by my boyfriend.We were standing with my boyfriend at the bar .  Just a fleeting glance really, so I gave it the benefit of the doubt, imagined it just an accident. After all, there were lots of people in this creepy place.

But I could feel a presence behind me, heavy breathing just over my right shoulder. I turned around to see an old man standing too close. He looked about seventy-five or older, quite dapper in a way, I suppose — but to me, aged nineteen, he looked ancient. He was staring up at the shelves and appeared uninterested in me. I wondered if a man his age was still capable of lust for a young woman, but decided it would be just too sick (in a bad way) if he were. 

I turned back to my boyfriend and forgot all about the old guy. I was surprised to see my boyfriend smiling at this boyfriend. Later I was shocked,  I understood it was a king of signal to this old man. About 3 minutes later I felt a hand travelling up the side of my right thigh. The touch was ever-so-light, progressing at a snail pace. For some still inexplicable reason, I didn’t turn around and slap the guy or call out to let others know as I was being molested with the approval of my boyfriend.He  No, what I did was -- I adjusted my stance, slightly parting my leg in a sort of gesture of compliance.

Even now I ask myself, why-the-fuck did you do that? I am sure if it had been a man under sixty I would have turned around and made a real big scene. But there was something about the thought of a bloke who’s sexuality should have been long behind him getting off by touching my leg. It elicited a sort of pity -- maybe?

The bar was busy and there were lots of people drinking her but I knew for sure it was the old guy who was now palming by each buttock cheeks in turn. My boyfriend give me big smile and whispered me, I am so excited to watch you by this ugly dude.

It was such a contradiction to be getting aroused by someone that, if truth be told, I found absolutely physically repulsive. I’m quite a tall person . He was a lot shorter than me, perhaps five-six.

And so I just stood there for what must have been only five minutes or so with him massaging my buttock cheeks through my tights and knickers. He did not try to go any further -- and I am not sure how I would have reacted if he had touched me more intimately.  -- so god knows what I might have allowed if his fingers had moved between my legs. Even now I dread to think what I would have sunk to in the heat of the moment.

Anyway, all of a sudden it just stopped. This old man has disappeared.  My boyfriend kiss me and said it will happen again darling.

I did not know how to react.

Your Nat

Please let me know in the comments if you want to know more about my adventures.