John and I went out last night (Sunday). We started at 8pm, John driving, but had no idea where we were going. John's dressed casually and I'm wearing my button through dress, thong and sandals. I've put my cardie in the boot as it gets a tad chilly in Wales these evenings. Well it is July. We took the M4, turned off for Cardiff Wales Airport, headed for Barry and finally ended up at a sea-side pub called "The Captains Table". During the journy John encouraged me to pleasure myself. It turns him on to watch me masturbate and I must admit it does a lot for me too. I think my clitoris rules my brain. We arrived about 9ish to a busy pub. Families, couples, singles and what appeared to be a coach-party of people from "over the border" (England). We ordered our drinks, wine for me, pint of stella for John (He only has one when driving) and mingled with the crowd. Had to really, all the seats and tables, both inside and out, were full. At about 10pm I'm on my third glass of wine and feeling very relaxed. The pub has become less crowded but the coach-party are well into enjoying "Welsh hospitality" as they put it. We've integrated into their circle and a few of the men have offered to supply me with more wine. How kind. Are all English men as generous. My pussy tells me otherwise and I must admit I did feel a tingle of animal excitment when talking to a few of them. I found myself detached from John and in the company of three men from the party. It was OK with me. Two were in their twenties and the third, a really good looking man, in his sixties. They bought me another glass of wine, my forth. Ther are very friendly. I felt a hand gently squeeze my butt. Nice. I did not react. Why should I. It was nice. The hand returned, squeezed again and remained firmly on my arse. Fingers ran aroud the outline of my thong, gripped the back and gently pulled so that it was pulled firmly up between my cunt lips. It was the sixty year old (Jimmy). The younger ones could see what was happening. I was manouvered to a quiet corner of the bar where Jimmy pulled firmly at my thong causing the elastic to snap. Down they went to be quickly picked up by Phil, one of the young lads. The other lad, Steve, undid a dress button and without so much as a "May I" thrust his hand onto my cunt. I was thiers'. They took me back to the coach, placed on the back seat, stripped me and all three fucked me. I enjoyed every stroke and deposit of spunk they gave me. At 11pm they'd finished with me and we returned to the pub. It was shut tap. No more wine and certainly no thong. I remember thinking "Where the hell is John". "I hope he hasn't been unfaithful to me while I've been away". You know what men are like. Incidently; still no news on a promotion or salary increase. Perhaps next week!