A few days in Amsterdam, just hope the weather is forgiving. John likes to give me little surprises. So there we are 5-00pm sat in the Sundeck Bar on the Pride of Rotterdam enjoying a very pleasant drink. Plenty of time for a shower and to get dressed up for dinner. I had brought two stretch jersey dresses one brown, one black and white stripes; along with suede heels and opaque stockings; I think I looked quite smart. John certainly thought so. John showered first and said he would go and have a drink while he waited for me. So showered and shaved; make up on. I began dressing, but after searching everything I couldnt find my opaques. We were still in Hull so I rang John, who sheepishly admitted forgetting them. I was cross, as the only other stockings were my slightly glossy baby pinks, which although I loved them, were too short for a short dress. Left with no choice on they went. I checked my suspender straps were tight, and put my suspender belt on a tighter fitting. Although I knew all this wouldnt stop them showing. This was proved right when I walked down the four flights of stairs to deck8. Heels made me walk slightly sideways on the stairs, and it was clear that I was attracting attention from guys, it was also clear that my stocking tops were on show and there was nothing that I could do about it. Meeting John we made our way into the restaurant, the waiter indicated a table meant for four at the very end of the room, eyes swivelled as I tottered across, heels clicking on the wooden floor. The table had a long seat which meant I had to shuffle across to the right where it was laid, John sat opposite. I did notice two guys sat at the next table watch with interest as I tried in vain to maintain my modesty, by the time I was in place , my dress was up around my thighs, I would have had to stand to pull it down, so I just sat there both stocking tops and suspenders on show, to both the waiter and the grinning guys adjacent. It turns out the leering guys were dutch antique dealers enroute to York. The restaurants on the shis are buffet style, so every time I went to the servery I had to go through the same embarrassing display; I even had to swing my legs around on at a time to stand, meaning my knees were apart, directly opposite one of the dutch guys and no more than 2 feet away from him, no doubt he got a good view of my panties with their tiny gusset every time. In fact when I returned from the servery with my dessert, I actually said to him a gentleman would have averted his eyes, his reponse was that he was enjoying the show too much. I have to admit part of me was a little excited by his interest and lack of embarrassment on his part. Anyway the meal was nice, we left and went into the showbar area. John indicated he wanted to see Deadpool which was on at 9-30 in the cinema, I didnt, so after he went I stayed in the bar area reading. I was actually sitting at one end of the bar area, in a little seating area to the rear of the main door, fairly dimly lit, I decided I would stay and listen to the band and stood for another glass of wine, it took awhile as all the staff were at the front of the bar not the isolated bit where I was. That was when I heard Hello Again, turning slightly I found the dutch guys behind me, both clearly having had a drink. The taller of the two called over to the waiter for wine, and also to some friends who were sitting near the stage. So within a few minutes I had at least six guys all stood very closely around me, effectively blocking off anyone else and almost concealing me. The tall guy told the the others in clear english, that this was the woman from the restaurant with the stockings, as you might imagine I felt more than a bit vulnerable, but also I have to admit a little turned on. I should have made to leave then, but I didnt. I knew that would be taken as a come on and that I was behaving like a tart, but at that point I didnt care. I have never been touched in public like I was that night, the guys were so close to me, and their hands all over me, squeezing bum cheeks, boobs, running hands up and down my dress. Maybe they did think I was a pro; I was certainly behaving like it. Some hen night girls close by actually did see what they were doing with me, and happily egged the guys on, soon my dress was up over my bum around my waist, my legs slightly apart, as fingers tugged the gusset on my panties aside, and then finding my by now slightly moist pussy pushed inside. I was actually being finger fucked in a bar , other hands were pulling at my suspenders, feeling down the front of my panties, and stroking the inside of my thighs, ans tightly squeezing my boobs through my dress. Two of the guys had unzipped themselves and each guided one of my hands into their pants, they were big boys, a real handful each, automatically I began to rub them almost without thinking. The hen night girls thought this great, what they saw as a posh well dressed woman being sorted, they were even saying go on give her one. I didnt really resist at all, and very soon despite trying I couldnt stop myself from coming, which I didnt do quietly. It seems they had their fun, not a lot was said, and not one of them tried to fuck me, sevearl drifted off, and the tall guy and his friend bought me another wine, I think they even wished me a good trip and suggested that I go and find my husband. I did, I havent told John yet, it was only a few days ago.