This happened in the fall of 1993. Christy and I had gone riding on a fall Saturday morning. After the ride we decided to stop for lunch in a small local town that specialized in antiques in western NJ. You know the type, small shops etc.

We were both dressed in our riding clothes. We both had on tan stretch breeches, black boots and sweatshirts and gloves. After lunch we decided to explore. Long story short we went into this one Victorian style house that sold old clothing.

On the second floor in one of the small converted bedrooms we found a big box of gloves. Well I couldn’t resist and started rummaging through them. Lots of lovely leather gloves in all sorts of colors and lengths but I couldn’t really find any that fit me, large hands. So Christy took off her riding gloves and gave them to me and started trying on pairs of leather gloves. With each new pair she seemed to get more and more into a devilish mood, too much wine at lunch? She would try on a pair pulling them on slowly and carefully over each finger, saying things like ‘these are so nice’ or ‘I wonder what the woman who wore them did with these’.

Well all of this teasing was having an impact on me. You have to realize that riding breeches are tight and leave little to the imagination. Christy commented on that things seemed to be rising.

She then puts on this lovely wrist length brown leather pair. She moves next to me and grabs my now hard cock through my breeches. She starts whispering the most nasty things about what she would do if we were alone and how she could feel my heat through the leather, etc. Well she just wouldn’t leave it alone, rubbing me with her gloved hand. Yes it went too far, well I am more than a little responsible I didn’t feel like stopping. But of course my pleasure turned to embarrassment when the results of our little episode soaked through the front of my breeches. Christy took off the gloves marched to the counter put them down and said ‘I’ll take these they work fine’. Well the look from the counter girl was pure astonishment even though I tried to hide my ‘problem’ I didn’t have a jacket that I could tie around my waist. So we slunk back the car with Christy laughing all the way.

I loved those gloves. To bad that some of the seams finally split and we tossed them out.

Of course we still get a laugh when we do some of this antique exploring but maybe because we are older and stodgier I don’t think there will be a repeat but old enough to overcome any embarrassment about telling what happened.