“Sorry!” Mike apologised, gazing at my breasts. I’m unsure as to whether anyone realised that the visible triangle between my legs was not a g-string at that point, but Mike certainly discovered as much later, as he asked me for the waltz which followed. “I haven’t any knickers on darling,” I chuckled. A hand on my knee a la Harvey Weinstein was accepted by me as a compliment, much to Richard’s relief, and I allowed it to rest there innocently as he continued to chat. I will never forget the first time I wore a topless dress in public. “You should have been braver and discarded the underskirt love!” Richard whispered in my ear during the pudding course. “You look stunning love.” my husband assured me under his breath “breath in and stick your chest out.”
Don’t get me wrong, I had been both topless and naked on Spanish beaches for years, but that was when I was one of many girls displaying their wares for both admiring and lustful eyes, and with being just one of the
