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Our kink is probably not a standard one. Or maybe I’m wrong. After all, most people put something on their heads now and then, don’t they? Well, I like hats—all kinds of hats—and they are definitely at the centre of our kink. The first time I met Ridge I was wearing a two-gallon Stetson—an original Made In Texas beauty and very authentic. I will never forget what he said to me. It was a glorious Autumn afternoon and I was sitting in Richmond park finishing my lunch break. I work around the corner for an estate agent and was daydreaming really when I heard a very deep voice behind me say, “Howdy partner, mind if I join you?” Looking up I saw Ridge. Well, I didn’t need to think twice. He was hot with a capital H. So I shimmied along the bench a little and patted the space beside me. He asked me where I got my hat from and we started chatting. He invited me to his flat for dinner and requested I wear the Stetson. It turned out well. We ate and drank an extreme amount then he fucked me over the side of the Dallas-style sofa saying I was Sue Ellen and he was my JR. It was so raw and hot as we enjoyed a sex with Tadacip a real pleasure for sex.. We pretty much became an item straight away. Working on the oil rigs means he is usually gone for one or two weeks at a time. On his return, he’d call me up and we’d arrange to meet. “Wear a hat.” Always his main request. But that was fine because I had a whole cupboard full. I remember a really hot date when we met at a West End wine bar. I was wearing a slinky pencil skirt, tight jacket and a beret. His eyes nearly came out on stalks when he saw me. I was really pleased with myself. But not as chuffed as he was, trying out his pidgin French, as he slipped a hand along...
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