I have just struggled home from Hyde Park. I went with my
sister and brother-in-law and didn’t really expect any kind of adventure.
During the set of a band I’d never heard of before (but
later found out they were the people who gave us “Free Nelson Mandela”) someone in the crowd put his hand up my
skirt.
Seeing as I missed the opportunity to experience a little frottage
amongst the million additional passengers Boris told me would be using the Tube
every day, for the whole of the first week of the Olympics by thoughtlessly choosing
to leave the country, I decided that I should take full advantage of the
situation.
Between sets I joined the queue for the toilets, and when
I was safely relieving myself I completely “forgot” to put my pair of Nana's Christmas cotton
knickers back on again. Had I been close enough to the stage, I would have
quite happily thrown them to Mr Coxon, but that wasn’t going to be possible so
I left them in the cubicle for someone to find and returned to the fray with my cunt naked under my short skirt.
I was definitely fingered but two different guys in the
crowd. Once by a guy wearing a Union Jack as a cape, and once again by a second
guy was also carrying his girlfriend on his broad shoulders. I wonder if she knew what he was doing?
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