His Finger Caressed Underneath My Bottom

I knew Paddy was up to mischief by the glint in his eye when I met him. A man who knew that to find a good escort girl London was the best place to be. As the owner/manager of a distillery, he regularly attended various customers in the capital as a follow-up courtesy when they’d bought his wares. He was a tall, slim and pleasant, Irishman, who loved a book a private box for the shows he visited. He often invited his clients, but tonight, it was only the two of us. I have lost track at the number of times I’d seen the big, long-running shows. I could almost be an understudy as I knew the dialogue and songs word-for-word!

“I know you are up to something!” I said, feeling a little apprehensive. “So, are you going to tell me what?”

He shook his head and laughed. “I don’t know why you London lasses never trust me, do you?” I just smiled as we were shown to our small box overlooking the stage. He’d asked me to wear no knickers, a knee-length dress, rather than a trouser suit; hold-ups instead of tights, and to be ready for some action if he was bored during the show.

As I sat down I realised he’d placed his hand, palm up on the seat, so he was cupping the base on my bottom. I giggled. It would be so obvious, but I said nothing and moved slightly so his finger caressed very underneath of my buttock. “Move again,” Paddy whispered, as the lights dimmed, so instead of hesitating, I moved so he could reach me fully. It wasn’t long before I was starting to feel the effects of his slow fingers.

Soon, I had to ask him to stop as I could not guarantee keeping quiet. The last thing he needed was to be thrown out of a theatre! He moved his hand and we settled back but I placed my hand on his thigh and started to tease him back.

On the way out, he tuned to me, with a grin.

“I love my escorts. That’s why I’m as single as the malt whisky I make” he said, with a chuckle. I giggled back. I liked his humour, but we were close to his hotel so he could now do what he wanted with me.