Roughly once a month I visit a long standing friend, she lives about 50 miles from us in another area of Yorkshire. We always go out for lunch, so I usually make an effort in my dress. John my husband is always keen to assist in that area. On this occasion a blue spotted , just above the knee dress with a fitted bodice but flared full skirt, bright red opaque stockings, black underwear and black heeled ankle boots. I actually felt quite sexy, made more so with john arranging my dress to show stocking tops as I sat in the drivers seat of our car, giving me instructions to remain like that all the way.

Shirley my friend greeted me on arrival, commenting on the contrasting tights and dress, she had no idea I always wear stockings.

Around 1pm, we drove into the market town where she lives, it was a lovely day ,with a blue sky, but as I discovered quite windy. The car parked, we walked into the high street. I noticed one or two glances as we walked along, but didnt think anything of it, other than bright red legs may be seen as unusual.

We spent some time window shopping and I again was quite conscious of men and women, looking at me, we were standing in front of a large shop window talking when I glanced at my reflection, and mortified to see the back of my dress flicking up in the strong breeze, I hadnt realised at all.

I asked Shirley to walk behind me and check, very quickly she commented that she didnt realise I wore stockings, and even worse sheer panties. I had been displaying myself al over town.

Shirley was highly amused. I recovered my composure, held my dress to my sides and we went for lunch.

After a couple of glasses of Pinot I was more relaxed and even admitted to Shirley that it made me feel quite sexy, knowing that others we seeing under my dress, but that I could pretend it was accidental. I suppose I am a bit of an exhibitionist which has led on odd occasions to one off sexual encounters.

I usually leave around 8.30 pm, as its nearly a two hour drive back home, I said my goodbyes and set off, now at shirleys there is no mobile reception, but as I drove along the road, my phone burst into life, and up on the car display came a text from John, a reminder to fill the tank, as at present there is an issue with refuelling.

I set off in search of fuel. I tried two garages both of which were closed. It was getting quite late now and I didnt have that much fuel left,when I suddenly thought of a nearby lorry overnight parking area and fuel bunker near the A1 Great North Road, John had mentioned it when he was a traffic cop.

So 20 minutes later I was pulling into the park, which is actually in an old quarry, quite a few parked up trucks, and then I saw the fuelling area, thankfully petrol was available, but only one pump and it was surrounded by the diesel pumps, but fortunately all empty as I arrived.

My first mistake was forgetting which side the filler was on our car, I got it wrong of course, but then thought I could pull the hose out far enough to reach like John does.

Getting out of the car, I was surprised by the strength of the wind, it was howling around the forecourt area, of course my dress started to play at being a parachute, but there was noone around.

I fed the credit card in, and took hold of the filler hose, it was incredible stiff, I had to really pull on the hose which was oily to get the filler over the back of the car and keep it off the bodywork.

As I struggled some courier vans started to arrive along with several lorries, so I was now a focus of attention, seeing me virtually trapped against the car, dress blowing up around my waist , the hose pinning me against the car was clearly attracting a lot of attention.

I had been so preoccupied with the damn hose I hadnt looked down, my dress was gathered up behind the hose, I was facing outwards from the car, and the hose had me secured against the car, my sheer panties, red stockings , everything on display. Despite me being the centre of attention not one of the audience offered to help. I was determined to do it myself, which eventually I did.

Then came the walk back to the overnight cashier, which was hatch in a brick building, I just stood in the small queue, the wind continuing to do its job of keeping my underthings uncovered , I didnt even bother to try and keep my dress in place, my hands were filthy and I didnt want to mark my dress.

They were using agency cards to pay and it seemed to take ages, and some of the guys eyeing me up clearly only had one thing in mind. I have to admit to feeling a bit vulnerable, something that doesnt normally bother me.

I made it back to the car, and secure inside, got ready to leave and then the damn thing wouldnt start, nothing at all, just a light on the panel like an engine, and something about check fuel.

That was it I was furious, I was only in this position because of John, and the idiot panic buying morons.

I was about to ring john, when there was a tap at the window, which startled me. The face seemed ok so I dropped the window a few inches and spoke to the guy. He seemed very personable, with a slight french accent, basically he was offering to help, starting by pushing the car off the fuel area and then by contacting the breakdown service on the number that I had on my phone.

I relaxed quite a lot although I was still angry. It turns out he owned a classic car transport business based in France and was collecting cars in the UK, he pointed out his transporter, which to me looked a little like a large removals lorry.

He was actually a smart good looking guy who was very charming.He suggested I wait in his vehicle, which initially I was sceptical about, but as he walked me across, instead of the cab, he led me to a short ladder leading into the side of the vehicle, which in turn led into a small single cabin a little like on north sea ferries but smaller,with a bunk style bed, a little shower unit with a loo, it was very cosy.

Guy the gallant knight suggested that I should ring my husband and let him know the situation, which I did, I was still a bit angry and let him know that my predicament was down to him, I gave John his details and vehicle description, and said Guy was taking care of me.

Guy then suggested that he contact recovery for me, I gave him my phone and he stepped outside to make the call.

He returned some time later, and explained that there would be a delay due to the recovery vehicles also being short of fuel, he had explained that I was safe, I didnt realise until later that this meant I wouldnt be treated as an emergency, lone female etc.

Of course he had wine, so over the next hour I had a couple of glasses, it was really cosy in the cabin, and the effect on me was noticeable. I get giggly with booze. I did ask Guy to ring the recovery outfit again though, which he did stepping outside as he said reception in the cabin was not good. When he came back, he said they were apologetic, but it would at least 4 hours, plus he said he had rung John and explained the situation.

It was at this point, I realised that I had been played by Guy, he was going to fuck me and I had been elaborately set up.

So here I was in the middle of nowhere, with a car that didnt work, I was safe and warm, much better than the car. So I decided to stay knowing exactly what that meant.

Guy clearly picked up on this, still very charming he began talking to me as if I was a little girl.

He said that as it would be hours before anything happened, that he should get me to bed where I would be comfortable. He motioned me to stand, which amazingly I did, I recall him saying now lets get you out of that dress arms up, grasping the hem he pulled my dress up over my head and off, leaving me in bra panties stockings and heels. Flicking my bra straps off my shoulders, he tugged it down freeing my boobs, before unclipping it and throwing it onto the bunk,

Then he sat me down, lifting my feet and slipping off my heels. He did make a comment about pretty underthings, and now just the panties to go, which they did as he slid them off, before lifting me onto the bed.

He kept talking to me all the while, commenting on my boobs, tidy bush and taught tummy, turning me around so that I was lengthwise on the bunk, made me feel both extremely vulnerable and aroused at the same time. Knowing that you are about to be fucked and by a total stranger is a really weird feeling.

Guy sat on the side of the bunk, and began to stroke me, over and around my boobs, gently kneading my breasts, and pinching my nipples until they were extremely erect, with his left hand stroking my thighs, up between my legs over my pussy and onto my tummy. I felt quite dreamy and clearly began responding to his carresses.

I could feel my moistness, as guys fingers did their magic and it was me who opened my legs for him and reached out to his crotch, I think I must have gasped a little, as I felt him through his jeans, he seemed enormous.

Smiling he stood and took off his jeans and t shirt, pants off his cock stood out stiffly from his muscled torso. I think unconsciously I tried to open my legs even more .

He was very gentle as he straddled me , He didnt come straight into me, but let the head of his cock press against my now swollen pussy lips, again it was me who arched my back and forced myself onto his manhood. Fully in me his cock was big, both in girth and length. His thrusts were powerful , rythmic and deep.

I couldnt stop myself wriggling as he worked on me, it seemed that I came quickly squeezing his cock as hard as I could with my pussy. Gary continued pumping away , until he too came. I could feel his warm cum flooding into me, no condoms never even thought about that.

I felt shattered, but later that night, gary fucked me again. It was around 4am when my phone rang, the signal clearly ok. It was the recovery outfit they were outside . Sleepy, confused, and with a noticeably tender pussy ; I tried to find my clothes and get dressed. I still had my stockings on, but everything else was scattered about the small cabin. Gary still laid on the bunk. Now the recovery guy was knocking on the cabin door as I was still putting my bra back on.

Gary at this point slid off the bunk and opened the cabin door; me shouting not yet I am not dressed. Gary just continued , the door swung open , recovery man with a broad grin on his face , me trying to pull my dress down over my pussy which was exposed as I couldnt find my panties. Gary and recovery man clearly knew each other, as I heard the chap say something like not another one dont know how you do it.

Stepping outside into the cold early morning was as shock, I could feel the cold air on my pussy. I felt very vulnerable without panties and to make it worse I could feel gary,s copious semen oozing out of me, as I stood next to the car I could feel it trickling down my inner thigh. It took seconds to fix the car, a simple fuel reset.

As I signed off the chaps worksheet I dropped his pen, crouching to pick it up, to my horror I noticed that I had dripped onto my black heels, something that both Gary and the recovery chap had also noticed. Face burning I got into the car , said my goodbyes and set off for home, stopping on the way to buy some paper panties, so I didnt soil the car seat.

As I drove I ran over the evening in my mind, although I didnt think about it as it happened, I decided that I had been played all along, even perhaps with the car not starting. I had willingly gone along with everything including being fucked, which I admit I enjoyed; but how to explain to my husband