New Year a lucky strike.
Guile’s Dovers Gentlemen’s Club
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Story below.
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A favoured Hunting Patch
One can take a knight, a pawn or a rook, even a king, but a queen, that needs capturing, are you game lass …?
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I am Welsh-born, a female, a jewel thief by nature, A cat burglar by trade, and an open opportunist for satisfying those cravings through any devices.
From a very young age, I have always been aware of the deep delicious feeling of desires coming bubbling up from deep within, sweeping tingling cravings and sexually charged desires to secretly acquire things, shiny things, from the well-dressed females who temptingly wore them.
The Guile’s Gentlemen’s Club New Year's Eve Ball
This area has always been lucky for me every New Year's Evening.
A private males-only club whose doors are open to Females only during the three formal balls they host per year. One of them is a New Year's Eve Dance.
They are all ultra-formal events traditionally attended to by many of society’s wealthiest families, some even holding actual titles of the realm.
So this “patch” was ultra ripe for the pickings and plucking. But since I made this my annual New Year's Eve event, I severely limited my takings and planned on one, sometimes two, expensively jeweled trinkets per year to not raise suspicions to a point where future preventative action is taken.
And with the valuable jewelry these dames wore, one well-chosen piece could easily cover my expenses for several months, and often did.
Also, I’m bragging a bit now, but I’ve always scored at least once every year I’ve attended. This being the only function to which I can make that claim.
I always arrived late, with the night as black as the fur of my pet cat Lucipurr. The twin lights that were at the entrance were a pair of green globes, shining like Lucipurr’s eyes in the night.
A late arrival meant the well-dressed guests inside would have been drinking heavily for some hours, increasing thrice my advantages for a successful lift from an unwary lady.
And I am not just talking about a drinking lady’s expensive jewelry alone. For there sometimes would be the young, below drinking age, lassies under their charge.
Unusually well-dressed young‘uns whose inebriated parents were no longer keeping a close eye on them.
Bored and antsy, paying little or no attention to the valuable jewels they were unaccustomed to wearing.
And it was surprising the value of the pieces they were allowed to be wearing out. But I guess if you are paying an arm and a leg to have them custom-fitted into an evening gown, then splurging on the jewelry is to be expected.
These usually older teenage nestlings were quite susceptible to the fawning attentions given them by a nice older lady, allowing their silken-clad persons to be touched and stroked over by fingers that moved ever closer to their shiny, easily pickable, baubles.
One of which would often be found later to have mysteriously vanished.
So, in a nutshell, this avenue was this pickpocket's dream patch.
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Today the organizers hold to strict age rules for the guests. No one younger than 18 years of age may be in attendance.
But at the time when I began hunting in that patch, there were no such restrictions, and some of the over-tripped female attendees were as young as 16 and even down to 14.
Which was rather a darling treat to see little ones so young dolled up in gowns, temptingly wearing pearls and rhinestones and the ilk. (many were also to be found wearing real pieces lent from their mum’s or gram mum’s collection-which is what I was always on the lookout for at the time). Talk about your candy-wearing babes in the woods scenarios.
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The dance floor at this venue is a whopping 2000 square meters, making it a very seductive patch for me to work over.
There is a second floor on one side that holds several lounge and powder rooms. A mezzanine extends in front of those rooms hovering above the bar area. On the opposite side, there is a similar mezzanine that fronts the private men’s quarters, during the dance this is roped off to nonmembers.
There is a grand stairway on both ends, leading from the dance floor. Off the mezzanine over the bar, on the opposite end, is a narrow set of stairs leading to the outside, (nearly) enclosed gardens.
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The gardens were I had my best bit of luck over the years.
The Hedged Gardens impressively encompass almost 2 Hectares. Only accessible from the back of the venue. It is surrounded by 3.5 m tall hedges surrounded by a 3 m tall iron fence.
The fence had a secret spot, totally covered by hedges, where one could wriggle in and out.
There is a brick patio that was laid in between the venue and the gardens. On the garden side in one corner a reconverted single-person privy for when there is an overflow inside the powder rooms. Next to it, by the gardens wrought iron gates, there is a small two-tier pond with a waterfall, for decorative koi fish
This was a good place to have a smoke and a good think while alone. Usually, after I had gone and thoroughly reconnoitered the ballroom for the first time after arriving to gather my thoughts and plot my next move(s).
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A lucky strike.
This evening there was no need to reconnoiter for very long after I had arrived I spotted a likely mark right off.
She was a beauty, fetchingly encased in a long flowing one off shoulder gown of icy blue satin. If I was a male my eyes would have been popping out over the way the gown lay over her well-endowed figure. And yes, the males were noticing her!
Most women would have been rather envious of the attraction she was receiving. As for me, the only real attraction was the blazing diamond broach alluringly pinned to her gown’s single shoulder.
I had been discreetly observing her for most of the evening. Even allowed myself to dance with a handsomely attired bloke to get a closer look at her broach and how it was attached to her lovely gown.
The more I studied it, the more I desired to have it.
After leaving the touchy bloke, and relieving him of his Rolex watch, I went to the bar and waited. Soon I saw her heading upstairs and she went inside the powder room.
I slowly finished my drink and meandered upstairs myself. I went inside and found that I had timed it perfectly. My mark was applying lipstick in front of one of the many mirrors that lined the main room. Keeping an eye on my prey I circled the crowded room in and out of groups of well dressed chatty ladies and then back out the door.
I waited on the mezzanine and looked over the crowd below. Each time I heard the door open I gave a side glance to see who it was. The third time was my charm as I saw a whisp of ice blue.
I turned and followed. As she reached the stairs I moved past, bumping alongside her as she hovered one step below me.
My mark was now off balance, I caught her, pulling her back from the stairs as she glared at my petulance behavior.
We faced each other and she with a better-than-thou look, accepted my apologies.
I meanwhile had placed a hand on her deliciously gowned shoulder, feeling her flinch underneath the scintillating fabric as I did. I used that to my advantage as I moved my fingers to where her jeweled broach was set.
I easily undid the broach from the shoulder of her gown without the nervous twit’s notice and cupped the jewel in my palm as she dismissed me while turning and making her way downstairs without a look back at me.
I went back along the opposite way of the mezzanine and reaching the back stairs went down and out into the outside patio.
Seeing that the area appeared deserted I went to a dark corner and admired my glitzy trophy. Too eager to wait until I had left the venue to do so. Which I’ll admit to that being a fallacy of mine.
I finally pocketed it and reached in for my gold cigarette case, planning on a relaxing smoke before calling it a night.
I had let several satisfying puffs out when I froze. … buggers, someone was inside the small outdoor privy. I put out the cig and moved further back into the shadows.
A young girl, oozing wealth and privilege, just then emerged.
She was indeed a rather fetching lass, with long silky red hair, probably an innocently sweet sixteen years old of age.
With a figure that was as frisky and sweet as her age.
Also sweet was her sumptuous attire that, along with her makeup, made her look far older and more sophisticated than she was.
She wore a long sleeved coloured cowl necked blouse of touchable shiny sleek purple silk that tightly outlined her plump perking breasts.
Over which she displayed a stunning black unfastened jacket of thicke satin. Elegantly adorned with silver rhinestone trimmings and buttons.
I took a fancy to that jacket which unfortunately for me( fortunate for her) was a full size smaller than what I could be wearing.
Spilling out from beneath the satin jacket was a slippery slick thin silk black ankle-length skirt. Falling down with a sensuous whisking flutter from a rhinestone belted svelte waist to just above her black satin pumps trimmed with purple rhinestones.
And the icing on the cake appeared in the form of the “ice” she was flaunting.
It was a splendid few seconds of heart-pounding euphoria that I experienced while eyeing this unwary chick's flashy jewels…
The sparklers I was eyeing up consisted of a pair of swinging long seven-strand earrings, along with sparkling rings worn loosely on three slender fingers. Finally, there was a brooch in the shape of a musical score bass clef sparkling from her jacket’s shoulder.
Then within less than a minute, I sadly realized, that in seemingly stark contrast to her expensive attire, the rich chick's jewelry was nothing to write home about. It was all rhinestones, except one of her 3 rings. But the real emerald stone set in there was too small to be worth my while, and risking exposure. So her mama had not allowed her out this evening wearing the good stuff. Pity.
But with unabashed feelings, I still watched her smashing profile, fine breasts delectably poking out as she moved to the koi pond and bent over, staring into its murky depths.
She was completely unaware of being watched and drooled over.
I will admit to thoroughly enjoying the exquisitely tantalizing show her beautiful attire was presenting.
She knelt down and reached the waterfall. Her silky skirt nicely outlined her tight buttocks with a fine appealing shine.
I found myself coming up with a good excuse to bump into her just for a good feel.
Just as I began to move, from the long cuffed satin sleeve of her jacket, from along her wrist, fell a bracelet into the light. I watched as it erupted into a frenzied storm of color that only real diamonds can ever achieve.
I gulped as this unexpected treasure revealed itself with surprising flamboyance. Properly chuffed that indeed, she was wearing valuable jewels after all.
My heart was agin racing, the game was again afoot. ( sorry Sherlock)
That brilliant bracelet had four links that satisfyingly surrounded her wrist, all filled with blazing diamonds of matched size.
My fingers tingled as chills rocketed up along my spine. This expensive diamond bracelet, worn by a girl this gullibly young, presented a perfectly easy textbook target.
Looked like I would be having my feel for other reasons.
I approached her, saying with my best cockney, a cherry “A’llo.”
She heard my steps and gave me a sideways look before standing up with a curious smile.
Then, as she stood up, the bracelet again disappeared, playing hide and seek on me.
While I talked with her, I needed to try to get her in a position that would move it back down in the open.
As she faced me, the rich darling was on alert, holding her arms together just at her waistline. Satin sleeves completely covering her wrists.
“Maybe this one wasn’t so gullible?”
We introduced ourselves and with gushing praises I told her how adorable she looked this evening, trying to break the ice and gain her confidences.
As I did I allowed my fingers to slip along her chillingly soft jacket, tickling her side.
She reacts with a nervous giggle. Her arms never leave position as I catch her looking towards the exit.
I pulled my hand away and needed to try a different tactic before I scared her off.
I made my eyes go wide as an idea came into my head.
“Spider!” I say suddenly, looking up at her head.
She jumped at that with a squeal, placing her hand to her mouth, rings glittering. Her other arm swung down at her side going behind her back. But before it did I got a glimpse of her diamond bracelet falling out from beneath her expensive jacket’s rhinestone buttoned sleeve.
I moved in up against her. simultaneously performing three planned maneuvers.
I reached one hand to her head flicking off the imaginary spider from her silky hair, while my other hand reached down and clasped her wrist before it was completely hidden behind her back. Then my knee rubbed up inside her skirt, caressing along her crotch as I pressed up against her trembling figure.
The practiced fingers of the hand reaching behind felt her exposed bracelet and nimbly covered it before it escaped by slipping back down her sleeve.
I felt the clasp and effortlessly opened it with one swift gesture.
“There now, got it!” I said as I stepped back.
My fingers slipped off her pricey bracelet and I placed that hand behind my back as she brushed her hair back in place while smiling at me with mixed emotions of thankfulness and the guilty pleasure my knee had been giving her as a distraction to my intended purpose.
With a pretty flutter of her made-up eyes she told me “Thank you.”
I was watching her, my eyes soaking in every detail of her pretty attire and how deliciously it made her pretty figure look.
I was running the fingers of my free hand through my own hair as I did, while I told her that I hated spiders, nasty things that they were.
We both then went into an awkward silence as I will admit my mind was trying to convince me that her sparkly earrings were not paste after all and would be a good idea to lift them from her ears.
She knew I was studying her, and not knowing why made her again uncomfortable. So she quickly told me she must be going.
I let her take leave, having had no time to come up with a ploy that would have netted me the faux sparklers hanging from her ears anyways.
I watched her swish away, her attire richly shimmering along her figure. The rhinestones on the back waistline of her satin jacket which I coveted, sparkled with inviting intensity.
I lit another cigarette and went for a needful brisk walk around the gardens before going back inside.
When I headed back I went upstairs to watch from the mezzanine for any danger signals.
It all seemed peaceful enough.
I spy the lass in blue who is talking with a group of ladies, pretty in their party frocks and jewels.
Of the 16 year old there was no sign.
I went downstairs to the bar for a nightcap.
While there I heard a comment being made to the female bartender that a broach had fallen off from its wearer.
I calmly finish, then slowly leave as I light up a cigarette. I was not overly concerned.
The broach was believed lost by accident.
The Rolex watch, once missed, would not raise a concern as to how. The Lothario I lifted it from was too conceited and vain to worry about it, his centre of being was on wealthy married women, which is from where the Rolex came.
And the diamond bracelet?
Well, its loss would be marked down to the carelessness of a girl too young to be trusted to wear such things.
But she had been exceptionally well dressed, and a treat to touch as my tingling fingers had worked her over while acquiring her diamonds.
Maybe I should still hang around and have had a go for her rhinestone earrings also, I mean solely as practice?
No, I scolded myself, leave it and go home.
But I could not unthink that thought, so I kept a hopeful eye out for her as I made my way to the exit.
While waiting for my wrap at the hat check I let my mind's eye see my victim as she walked past me wearing that simply gorgeous satin jacket, and her black silk skirt poured out wickedly from underneath.
Of course, in my mind, those earrings she wore were real and grossly valuable.
Then I remembered a ruse I had learned about where a lady wearing expensive earrings all evening at a party had been approached by a lady who had pretended to know her and in the process of hugging her had pulled at the earrings she wore enough so that her ears were pricked by the fasteners.
The lady left her after apologizing. But the damage was done. The diamond earring-wearing lady who had been hugged by the stranger, became aware of how the long earrings were pulling and prickling at her earlobes, and finally removed them and placed them inside a pocket.
Later she discovered they had somehow disappeared from that pocket.
Now that had been a two-person team working that trick. But it could quite easily be done by one.
And I could have set that up as I was whisking that imaginary spider from her silky red locks.
I could just visualize, as I licked my lips, that pretty satin jacket and how gloriously it would feel to cope with another feel of it as my fingers dipped inside one of its pockets to lift out expensively sparkling earrings.
But of course, I never did actually run into her again as my daydreams were interrupted while I was given my wrap.
And of course, her earrings were nothing more than pretty paste, worth very little.
So I left to continue with building
up upon those personal fantasies on my way back home.
Starting, as I drove off in my sports coupe, by imagining a young redhead ( my dress size) wandering alone in the gardens.
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In my mind, I deliciously imaged I was back in the gardens when I spotted a solitary figure.
She was walking down a garden path. Smirking over her Auntie worries that she shouldn’t go out alone all dressed up like she was tonight.
Black satin jacket trimmed with rhinestones over a purple silk blouse with a long black silk skirt pouring down sweeping to her toes.
Her diamonds were all valuably real. Wearing them as clips in her hair, flickering down from her ears, on her fingers, hanging from her throat, wrapped around her gloveless wrists, and lastly in a long broach pinned to her satin jacket.
She was wandering out about the gardens by herself with reckless abandon. Not concerned in the least about the jewels she was flaunting. the poor girl really hadn't a clue as to why that was even an issue for her to be out alone dressed as she was.
No one would care if she was spotted, though in her deepest feelings, she was hoping a dashing handsome lad would.
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I ended the daydream in my bed, the diamonds I had lifted in real life (broach and bracelet) laid out shimmering on my bed stand.
As I looked them over, I stroked and played with my neglected pet pussy, making the devil purr while envisioning a red-haired lass sitting with a certain amount of vulnerability on a garden bench, jewels glimmering like an out-of-control fire.
Suddenly a dark figure slips out of the woods and approaches her.
Before she fully understands what is happening, she finds her jacket dripped off, her hands quickly bound behind her with a rhinestone belt. Her breasts, bulged out beneath a slick purple silk blouse, heaving with trembling gasps.
Her eyes were wide with horror as a female thief, now wearing the poor lass’s black shiny satin jacket, was probing her richly attired bound figure, searching with gusto all of her whimpering victim's nooks, crannies, and crevices, while locating and pulling off her remaining jewellery and stuffing them inside the shiny jacket’s pockets.
The figure then walks off with an easy unhurried gate, as her hapless victim helplessly watches. Now with a clear understanding of why she shouldn’t have wandered off alone dressed and adorned as she had been.
With those images swirling, my pussy purring, I finally fell into a deep euphoric slumber.
Fini
