Rainwear - Depositions - Andy - Margaret/title> <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> <link rel="stylesheet" href="../lakeland.css" type="text/css"> <script language="JavaScript">  </script> </head> <body onLoad="MM_preloadImages('../secondfolder/pics/askleup.gif')"> <p align="right"><a href="../club/clubdoor.htm"><font size="-1">Club Foyer</font></a><font size="-1">><a href="../chillout.htm">Chillout Room</a>><a href="../depositions.htm">Depositions</a></font></p> <h4>Margaret</h4> <p> I was due to attend a Convention in Canada, involving a long long flight from London to Toronto. It journey should have been gruelling, but thanks to macs, Parkas and the associated magic these garments deliver in me, it was a lovely experience…. <p> On arrival at Heathrow, I parked up in a long stay car park. On leaving the car behind, in a rather nasty (or should that be glorious) drizzle, I noticed a sprightly looking lady in her 70’s getting out of a rather nice new BMW. She looked familiar. <p> I boarded the bus to take me to the terminal, and moments later, she did too. By then, she was in one of those traditional creamy white Burberry macs that will probably never wear out. It was a double breasted model with all the normal trimmings, epaulettes, cuff straps etc. She had fastened the lowest button only to cross the car park, and her neatly manicured, yet wrinkled left hand, undid it with a gentle nimbleness once on the bus. She smiled at me and spoke….<p> “I think we’ve met before….”<p> After a brief discussion she’d figured it out. She asked what I did for a living, and when I told her it became apparent we worked in the same industry. She runs her own Consultancy and just doesn’t want to retire. She pinpointed the fact that we had obviously been at various industry functions and dinners. She named a few of the ones she’d been to in the last 12 months. I was able to confirm that I’d been at some of them too. As soon as that was established she said the obvious. <p> “I imagine you’re on your way to Toronto then, like me?”<p> You bet I was. We were booked on the same flight, and had parked in the same long stay car park at the same moment. Not so much of a fluke, because the Conference Organisers had done a deal with the car park involved, and had suggested just a few flights according to which day people needed to arrive at destination. <p> We checked in together and finished up with seats next to each other. We were both lucky enough to be flying in a first class sort of a way – which I had never done before. I began to look forward to my flight, and the opportunity to spend a fair few hours sitting right next to Margaret – even though she would obviously take her mac off for the flight. I did fall to wondering how I could get her talking about macs perhaps? and possibly how I could get her to fasten my Parka’s zip while she had her mac on? Not easy in mid flight – because if it’s raining on you in mid-flight then you’ve been in a spectacular crash… Eek! <p> We went our separate ways for a while after checking in, but obviously came back into contact with each other at the gate. By now, she had the Burberry totally buttoned up. Why? By definition, she must have been indoors the whole time.<p> We boarded the flight together, and I waited patiently in the aisle while she unbelted and then unbuttoned (including the button on the inside) and folded her mac carefully before putting it into the overhead locker. <p> Now was the moment.<p> “That’s a lovely raincoat you’ve got there Margaret!!”<p> She agreed and told me she had a real soft spot for it, that she’d had it 20 years and was often complemented on it. <p> By now my less prestigious Parka, with the zip that I have adjusted with pliers to maximize awkwardness for anyone fastening it, was in the same locker, nuzzling up against her Mac. The Burberry was officially slumming it with a Council House Coat. I shut the lid on the locker with a satisfying clonk so that the posh coat could enjoy a bit of rough and ready company in peace. <p> The in flight service was of a very high order. There was plenty to eat, and an elegant sufficiency of alcoholic beverages. We both enjoyed that. Margaret told me lots about her business experience and was really good company. I later discovered that she’d found me amenable to be with too. <p> After enough alcohol had been consumed I got a great opportunity to go all Mackintoshy again. I opened the locker to get some tissues from my hand luggage, and a Burberry sleeve, complete with strappy cuff buckle popped out. Perhaps it was trying to escape the attentions of the ruffty tuffty Parka! I poked it back in – enjoying the feel of the sleeve as I did so. <p> “Your mac’s making a bid for freedom Margaret!” <p> She laughed.<p> Fuelled with enough alcohol, I carried on to tell her that I should have brought my mac instead of my “ridiculous Parka.” I told her that the Parka might not be formal enough for such an event to say nothing of the fact that it was tricky to fasten. I told her that she might find it hard to believe, but that I often really struggled to get it done up because the zip was awkward - and that I sometimes had to ask for help. <p> I was surprised by the response I got to that, and put it down to no little bravado in Margaret, as a result of alcohol intake. She told me that she thought that maybe I enjoyed being done up into a coat, and that based on where the fingers had to go on behalf of the person doing the fastening, she was not surprised. She quickly went on to say that I only had to ask in order to get help…..! I was a little lost for words for a moment, about just how easily she’d read me... <p> Bloody hell! That was easy……..! <p> Since so many cards were now on the table, I took a bit of a risk (I was drunk) and poured out my whole thing about a love of waterproof coats, and my particular soft spot for a female in a trench….. Particularly one like hers!! She wasn’t at all surprised, describing her trench as “a talking point” particularly amongst the male species. No wonder you get so much correspondence about this Lorraine..<p> Margaret told me how much she enjoyed wearing her trench, and told me about the attention it got her.<p> The flight still had some way to go, and eventually Margaret fell asleep. I tried to, but I found myself focussed on her neatly manicured old hands, the thought of them poking out of Burberry sleeves, and how they might look when dealing with my Parka’s tricky zip.<p> On leaving the plane at Toronto I found out the answers to all of this. It was raining, which was a bonus. We were in the upstairs bit of the Boeing 747 that had transported us there, and that came with a surprising amount of room for disembarking – particularly as there were surprisingly few other people in these prestigious seats. I got Margaret’s mac down for her, and held it up for her to put her arms in. She buttoned and belted it. It looked amazing! In the meantime I had got the Parka down and had my arms in that too. I left the zip undone. I didn’t say anything….. I didn’t like to ask. <p> Margaret didn’t volunteer to help though. I had figured that she would just intervene – now that she knew what she knew, and had volunteered what she had volunteered. Perhaps she was sobering up and had realised what she might be signing up for!! I was a bit confused by all of this though, so I put my hood up (coats with the hood up should always be fastened - and look odd if they aren’t in my view.) I got myself onto the stairs down to the main cabin, which bend slightly. Margaret was behind me now. I’d given up temporarily on getting done up - and felt most disappointed. I was going to need a new strategy. Just as I was thinking all of that, Margaret spoke. <p> “Best we get this fastened up I think……” <p> She was reaching round my waist from behind, using the bend in the stairs as a sort of vantage point to half look round me whilst fumbling with the Parka. It really tickled – though she made no physical contact. It was all I could do to stand still for her. A Burberry susurrus is a different (and sexy) susurrus to that of a regular rubberised mac, but it is a sound that I am particularly fond of. Burberries have a really pleasant smell as a rule too - and hers was no different. I was melting…. <p> She had a poor vantage point for efficient zipping up. The zip came out on her when half way engaged a couple of times – causing her to pull it out and start again. She spoke once more.<p> “DASH! This is awkward isn’t it? It’s like doing it for the children…” <p> Then after a moment.<p> “We’ll get it done up on the tarmac. I’ll be able to stand in front of you there.”<p> She released the zip. <p> When we got outside it was belting down. This was one of those occasions where there was quite a walk across the tarmac. Most people made a run for it. We probably should have – but Margaret was having none of it.<p> “Come here. Let’s get you done up quickly!”<p> She put an umbrella up and thrust it into my hand. The rain spattered on it as I held it over her. It spattered on my hood too. I stared straight ahead.<p> Margaret crouched.<p> “Thud… THUD.”<p> She had pulled the two sides of undone zip downwards, vertically towards the floor to get my undone coat’s 2 sides taut in her hands… Then the zip started making noises as she manoeuvred it expertly between her small fingers – like this. <p> “Click – Clicketty….!” <p> “Clicketty, clicketty, clicketty clicketty clicketty,clicketty,clicketty,clicketty…….” <p> I looked down. I could see that her two thumbs were in front of the Parka. Her nail polish glowed, with raindrops on it. Two thumbs in front of the coat and visible…. That obviously means 8 other fingers fumbling about, darting this way and that behind the undone Parka’s material, helping to keep the coat taut. These fingers, on the end of her neat hands, which were poking out of mackintosh sleeves….. Sleeves with cuff buckles, oh so visible…. This was LOVELY. Rarely have I been tickled so helplessly in my rainwear by another rainwear wearer…. <p> Oooohhhhhhhh!<p> “Clicketty.clicketty clicketty…… KER-LUNK”<p> The zip engaged for her, and she rasped it up to my chin.<p> “You’re right Andy. It’s really TRICKY! Did you enjoy that???????”<p> I half exhaled as a sort of agreement, muttered the word “wonderful” and told her that it was not so much “tricky” as “downright impossible” to fasten unless the coat could be pulled down taut whilst undone, in the way that she had. This Parka is quite long, so it is impossible to get the leverage to get this taut effect when fastening the zip for yourself. Because the zip has been adjusted with pliers, if you don’t get that taut effect you can’t clip the zip together at the bottom – so if anyone fastens my Parka it’s not the wearer as a rule….<p> We went into the airport and waited for the bags…. En route Margaret’s umbrella collapsed in the wind. We both got very wet – even though it was only a minute or so to walk in the open. Other passengers were soaked too. <p> I had a brainwave…<p> “After all that struggle you had with this zip – I need the loo…..”<p> She was unconcerned.<p> “If you need to undo it – I’m sure I can re-fasten it if it needs doing up again…” <p> I returned from the loo undone – then created what I call the wonder scenario. This is where a lady in a mac decides my Parka is to be fastened, and continues fastening even if I make it clear that I don’t agree with being done up. A sort of mac wearer domination ensues - and it is really glorious. This goes way back to when my parents would fasten my coat, when I was younger. Parents tend to make the decision about when you get done up and when you don’t before you can fasten your own coat. My own parents (particularly my Mother in her mac) would never take no for an answer. This would often result in a struggle, wriggling on my part, pulling the zip out as soon as it was in, and undoing my coat altogether without warning…. What a naughty boy! <p> It is rare, in adulthood, to be able to be so naughty like that. People will normally only zip me up because I look like I need them to. It would then be strange behaviour, having persuaded someone to help, if I were to pull the zip out on them. <p> My mind was working overtime here though. Goodness knows how many times I’d be able to convince Margaret to help on this trip. How could I experiment? How far could I take this? She’d already done this thing once, and here we were again, even before the bags were off the aircraft, with her crouching in front of me now, her mouth level with the bottom of the zip, and just in front of it. She grasped the undone zip and tugged it floorwards once more… Pulling it down twice for effect as she had before… <p> “THUD – THUD!”<p> The tickling began as before…… It was awesome…… My turn to speak though.<p> “Do you really think it needs doing up in here…? We’re inside.”<p> She thought for a moment, holding the undone zip quite still, and taut, and then replied flatly with the following.<p> “Better we get it done up here than outside in the rain… Keep still…”<p> I wasn’t aware that I wasn’t keeping still….<p> The zip fastened more easily than before. I was aware, and I think she was too, that we were being watched by one or two of the other passengers. <p> The bag carousel still hadn’t come to life so she took me by the arm and led me a bit away from it – so that nobody else could hear her. Then she spoke. <p> “They all noticed….” She was half-giggling about that though…. Through nervousness?? Concern at her reputation perhaps? I didn’t want her to feel that she had to do it, so I offered up the following pearl of wisdom – with tons of regret. <p> “Perhaps you shouldn’t do it again……….”<p> She looked SO disappointed…….<p> “If you want me to, then I will. You only have to ask.” She carried on…. “I’m fascinated by things like this, and what makes people tick in these ways. <p> We were still being watched, but she suggested absolutely blatantly that I could bring my coat to her hotel room, should I want to, for more experimentation, and for me to get my coat “fastenation” right off my chest. This was an offer that was too good to be true. I confirmed then and there that I would love to take her up on such an offer. <p> On arrival at the hotel, we checked in, and Margaret was all too happy to give me her room number. She asked if I was too tired for a discussion immediately. By now it was evening in Toronto, but goodness knows what time my body thought it was. It was too good an opportunity to miss though, and she seemed more than happy to entertain me. I accepted an offer to visit her room - and paused only to drop my bags off, before trotting up the corridor to pay her a visit, my Parka on, but now unzipped once more……<p> Margaret opened the door, in her Burberry, buttoned up. She pulled me into the room by grabbing the 2 undone sides of Parka and tugging me forcibly towards her. She shut the door. <p> “You naughty boy. How dare you undo that?” <p> She put the hood up for me and crouched before me.<p> “What does it take for me to get this fastened and have you keep it that way??”<p> Clicketty, clicketty, clicketty, clicketty, clicketty, clicketty……… The zip was proving awkward once again, though this time I sense she may have been struggling deliberately……<p> It was tickling at an unbelievable level…. A beautiful experience, delivered by an immaculate older lady in a classy Mackintosh.<p> I began to wriggle…..<p> “Stand still..!”<p> “NO! I WON’T!! I’M NOT HAVING IT FASTENED..!!”<p> “You WILL!”<p> “I WON’T… NO!! I WON’T!!!”<p> “YOU WILL!!”<p> “I WON’T”<p> This went on for some time…. I wriggled and wriggled and wriggled. Margaret fumbled and fiddled with the zip. She cursed under her breath. She tugged at the zip. My body sent messages of the physical variety that this was nice. It did so through one particular part of it expanding, thanks to a rush of blood to that area. Margaret whispered that she had noticed this – then went back to fumbling with the zip. She never once touched me at this stage…<p> Eventually, she released her fingers from the zip, leaving my Parka still undone. She sat on the bed with a Burberried swoosh - and told me that she was going to tell me what this was all about. I think I can remember the total of the conclusions that she said she was jumping to: <ul> <li>That this coat fetish of mine dates back to childhood, with my Mother and maybe others doing up my coat for me – possibly whilst wearing a mac, that it had been pleasant at the time, gave me happy memories and led to me seeking to re-create these early physical experiences as an adult. </li> <li> That conclusion, I would add is absolutely accurate, as you would know from my other depositions anyway. </li> <li> That I enjoy being dominated - and that a mackintoshed lady zipping up my coat is indeed an example of me being dominated. Furthermore, that all my early experiences of this would have been delivered by folks who had decided I was being “done up.” Because they made the decision to fasten my coat, rather than me asking them to do it, I was being dominated then. I accept that supposition as likely. </li> <li>That having this done by a woman in a buttoned up mac was leading to me almost receiving physical contact in a sensitive area of my own body from a woman who might not be wearing anything at all under the said Mackintosh. I hadn’t actually considered that possibility, but I find that idea attractive – so yes, maybe that one is accurate too. Lovely idea!!</li> </ul> <p> After this last assertion had been made, Margaret stood up, and slowly unbuttoned the Mac. She took it off and threw it on the bed with a satisfying swoosh. She did indeed, reveal her naked body at that point……</p> <p> What happened next is censored – but you don’t need that much of an imagination. She may be 30 years older than me, and I may well be a man of some experience myself, but I learned things about ladies of that age and how they can still enjoy themselves as much as ladies half their age and younger. I enjoyed myself too. <p>Andy Mac <p> </p> <table width="100%" border="0" cellpadding="5"> <tr> <td><p align="left"><font size="-1"><a href="../lakeland.htm">SHOP</a> | <a href="../club/clubdoor.htm">CLUB FOYER</a> | <a href="../chillout.htm">CHILLOUT ROOM</a> | <a href="../comold.htm">ASK LORRAINE</a></font></p> <p align="left"><img src="../pics/pcih.gif" width="220" height="18"></p></td> <td> </td> </tr> </table> <p align="left"> </p> <p align="left"> </p> </body> </html>