Written by Julian

4 Apr 2010

Part Seven

The posh voice on the loudspeaker commanded my wife: ‘Come on Fiona, imagine you are on the catwalk, let’s see you show off your beautiful satin skirt. Could you walk up and down and give us a few twirls? Doesn’t she look lovely in yellow ladies and gentlemen?’

From where the moronic ex jailbird, his mates and myself were standing, we could hear Fiona’s clothes rustling. There was the sexy sound of her black silk seamed stockings rubbing against her satin slip and the slip rubbing against the expensive tight skirt. As she turned around, the men roared approval at the sight of her ruler straight seams, leading down to the black dart above her yellow five-inch heels, and the sight of her perfect little buttocks pressing against the tight skirt. As a finishing touch, they could see a flash of black lace and satin of her slip through the slit at the bottom of the knee length skirt.

The rough men roared their approval. I wondered where the major was and looked around. It was at this point I noticed one of those elevated lifts, fixed to the back of vehicles, was raised to the right of the stage. The truck had been parked near the caravan. The major was one of two guys filming Fiona’s shows. The thought of men watching this over and over again was very exciting and I was feeling close to orgasm again, rubbing my prick through my trouser pocket, oblivious that any of the men might see me.

‘OK Fiona, thrust those hips out, show us what yer made off, that’s it my dear’ ordered the posh voice over the public address. Fiona was taking tiny steps, constrained by her tight skirt and very high heels. She could not help but wiggle her bottom. With only the tight satin and lace full slip and bra cups covering her upper body, her 34d breasts were as good as naked. Two layers of satin were not enough to conceal her very swollen nipples. Her skirt, like her shoulder length blonde curly hair and lavish jewellery really caught the sunlight as she paraded around.

This inspired a bidding frenzy, but once again it was ‘ the garage boys’ who kept in the lead. There was no telling where they got their money from- I guessed the major might have given them some just so that he could watch the ex jailbird strip my petite size 8 wife in front of the dirty minded crowds. ‘Come a bit closer bitch, I wanna smell yer perfume.’ Ordered the ex jailbird in his rough brutish accent. To my surprise, Fiona teetered toward the edge of the stage. He looked up at her and with menace in his voice, whispered, ‘I am gonna fuck you so fuckin’ hard bitch, gonna make you cum hard cunt. Go stick those pretty tits out. I goin ter whip those beauties.’ Fiona blushed, let out a little involuntary moan and seemed lost in thought. She did not seem to notice me. I glanced at her prominent breasts, perfectly displayed under shimmering satin and lace. Her rustling clothes and expensive perfume added to the explosive cocktail setting the crowd on fire.

She was such a contrast to the thickset thug whose hairy chest was hardly concealed by his sweaty vest. His ugly lecherous smile made worse by a double row of rotten teeth- so different to Fiona with her fell red painted lips and perfect white teeth.

With her wide brimmed yellow satin hat and veil; she looked fragile and haughty. The brute talking to her seemed very angry and aroused. There were other raucous voices, but the heavily tattooed ugly looking great jailbird was the one I could not help fantasise about. There were lots more seedy half-witted looking rustic thugs all around us, all waiting to see Fiona have her skirt taken off. As I looked around me, I noticed that I was not the only one with a hand in my pocket.

The ex jailbird turned his attention to the bidding. It had reached £400. He was getting impatient. His big mouth opened and shouted, while his beady eyes devoured my beautiful little Fiona: ‘£700.’

‘£700 I am bid. That is very generous. Are there any more bids.?’ ‘No, come on lets see the bitch stripped’ shouted one eager looking young moron from the centre of a group of skinheads.

‘£700 is that the final offer for Fiona’s rather nice yellow satin skirt. Going once, going twice sold to Fred Martin and his garage boys. Would you like to step up and help Fiona remove her skirt Fred, or are you going to let one of your colleagues have the privilege?’

I watched the ex jailbird, who I now knew the name of, turn to a fat bald headed man next to him. The man must have been about sixty, with no teeth and about five feet nine. ‘Come orn Dave, give us a hand ter strip the bitch.’

I rubbed my prick harder as I watched the two men climbing the steps, heading toward my pretty Fiona who was once again standing demurely, slim black stockinged legs pressed together, looking very shy, head bowed and immaculate.

The two ugly brutes stood either side of, looking at her with mocking smiles, or then leering at the crowd. The ex jailbird stood behind her, looking for the concealed zip. For a moment he stood directly behind her, a big hands holding her tiny waist. With a strange smile, playing to the crowd, he simulated sexual thrusting almost touching her pert yellow satin clad buttocks. Then he eased back, took hold of the zip and started to ease it down. The fat man moved to the front of her and we could see both of them starting to pull on her skirt. As it was pulled down, there was the swish of satin against satin.

Fiona kept her legs pressed together and looked as if she might loose her balance on the high heels. She was giving a slight sway of her hips in an involuntary effort to help them pull her skirt down. As it pulled down over her hips, there was the electrifying sight of more black satin and lace slip coming into view. It was an erotic contrast to the cloud of her skirt. Though black, the satin caught the sunlight, shimmering and amplifying my wife’s exquisite female vulnerability Having just orgasmed in my pants, I felt humiliated, regretting letting them humiliate Fiona like this. The crowd was clapping the efforts of the red faced leering men

With the satin hat and veil, I was not sure of her expression. Her head was bowed as she watched her skirt go down over her slender thighs, slim calves and down around her pretty ankles. The fat man pulled it all the way down and was looking up at her from floor level. Two inches of pretty lace trimmed her tight fitting full slip, with more lashings of lace joining this all the way up the front and to the lace around her breasts. I could see the two men on stage were enjoying the sight. I heard the fat man say to his fiendish friend, ‘Cor I can see the bitches knickers and suspenders through all this.’

From where I was standing, the sight of my pretty blonde wife was stunning. Very daintily, she stepped out of the yellow fully lined satin skirt. The fat man picked it up, turned and held it up to the crowd, like a football trophy.

The full-length tailored satin slip encased her delicate little body, making the most of her perfect exquisitely feminine figure. The two inches of black lace around the hem came just above her knees. In the sunshine, even though the slip was heavy satin, it was possible to make out the line of her full briefs, suspender belt and stocking tops. All around me I heard men saying how much they wanted to tit her up and fuck her hard. I heard one thug say to another, ‘Fink might get the chance, heard there’s another fuckin’ show with the fuckin’ slag. Tell yer later.’ Oh my God’, I thought as the man on the public address, thanked the bidders. The two repulsive men stepped down, smirking as the voice on the speaker asked my wife to parade around the stage in her pretty black satin and lace undies, as he opened the bidding for her full length satin and lace slip.’ Cheers erupted from the dirty crowd as my wife teetered around the stage on her yellow five-inch heels. The sight of her black seamed stockings and little bottom pressing against her slip incited the ex jailbird, Fred, to say he was going to fuck her arse as well.