Jeanette's Wild Side (True Confessions)
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Posted:Dec 11, 2019 4:54 am
Last Updated:Dec 15, 2019 6:35 pm
6060 Views
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Jeanette's Wild Side
(Originally written in 1999)
Hello to all the pantyhose lovers out there.
After I wrote my story for Adrianne’s contest, I started thinking that people might be more interested in reading about my own real experiences. I thought some of you might be wondering what kind of fun I have when I’m not drooling over Adrianne with the rest of you. I figured since Adrianne is asking people to write stories for the site, I should write a little bit about me and my girlfriend, Jeanette. So, here goes... But just so you understand, this is not a single story. It’s a few scattered reflections on things that really get me off. Maybe, they’ll get you off too.
Jeanette has been my girlfriend going on four years now. We share a house together here in Phoenix. She is my best friend. She is also the hottest, wildest sexual animal I’ve ever met. When it comes to sexual experimentation, there is nothing she hasn’t tried or expressed an interest in trying at some point.
How would I describe her? Well, let me use her own words. She refers to herself as “a hot-blooded Mexican.” That pretty much sums it up. She’s a feisty little hot tamale in a compact five foot frame. She has deep-set smoldering brown eyes. Her Latina complexion keeps her skin tan all year round. Her dark hair drapes over her face and down to her shoulders in long jet black strands. Her breasts are a sumptuous pair of 42-DDs (you read that right), full, round and squeezable as honey dew melons. She also has one of those deep, husky-sounding voices, like Demi Moore, that I just love to listen to, especially when she’s whispering dirty little thoughts in my ear.
Jeanette grew up in El Paso, Texas, which is literally right next to Mexico. I mention this only because El Paso’s population is overwhelming Hispanic. Jeanette didn’t see many other kinds of people where she grew up. During college, her and her sister started going to nearby Army bases on the weekends to meet “G.I. Joes.” This is where she tells me she discovered her preference for tall black men, like myself.
When Jeanette introduced herself to me on-line, she made it very clear that what she wanted was to hook up with “a handsome brother.” I could tell she wasn’t just curious, or just going through a phase. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. I respected that. So, when I described myself to her (6’2”, 215 lbs., bronze skin, brown eyes, broad shoulders, big hands, thick lips, shaved head, goatee, gold earring and glasses), she reacted with great interest. After I told her that I thought Spanish women were the sexiest by far, she couldn’t wait to meet me.
I’ll never forget the first night we had sex. We didn’t make love that night. We fucked. I’d never been with a woman with so much sexual energy. She was so vocal and responsive. That really turned me on. I didn’t hesitate to go down on her first. I couldn’t believe the taste. Her pussy was so sweet, sweet like sugar melting in your mouth. I really love to eat pussy, especially when a girl takes care of herself and really tastes good. Jeanette tastes incredibly good. Of course, the best thing about eating pussy is the response. I love a girl who doesn’t just enjoy receiving oral sex, she actively participates in getting her pussy licked. From the moment I slid my tongue between those moist pink lips, she was telling me where it felt good, when to lick faster and when to suck her clit. Just listening to her gave me the biggest throbbing hard-on. As much as I wanted her to go down on me too, I was so excited after eating her pussy that I buried my dick inside her cunt, right then and there.
I pushed her knees back to her chest and power thrusted straight into her cunt for ten minutes. She was saying things to me like, “Come on, fuck that pussy! Fuck me like a slut! Yeah, you like that tight pussy, don’t you? You like the way I spread it for you and let you fuck me with your big black cock, huh?”
I don’t have to tell you what a head rush that was. When we rolled over, she started squeezing my cock on the inside, twisting and gyrating all around. Her big tits were bouncing in my face. I grabbed them and sucked hard on her nipples. I grazed her nipples with my teeth. She told me to bite them harder. We moved to the floor and I fucked her doggystyle for a while. I pulled out every so often, leaned down, spread her ass cheeks and bathed her asshole with my tongue. She had one or two shuddering orgasms from the ass licking alone. Then, she pulled out a little green vibrator and told me to put it in her ass while I fucked her. I did as I was told. The screams rang out for blocks. She couldn’t get enough of that vibrator up her ass. But the intensity was too much for me. So I pulled out and that’s when she really went to work.
If Jeanette has one real talent, it’s performing oral sex. She doesn’t just give head. She sucks cock until she makes my toes curl. She loves having my cock in her mouth. When she slides it down the back of her throat – which she does with ease – she makes me feel like my penis really belongs to her. She’s just letting me hold it until she needs it. I didn’t know what a deep throat was until Jeanette showed me how it’s really done. Now, I’m sure you’ve all heard the myths about black men and their endowment. I’d love to sit here and tell you that I inherited some of those notorious genes. But I won’t lie. I’m adequately equipped, but I’m no porn star. Still, that doesn’t make seeing Jeanette’s forehead touch my belly button any less impressive. I’ll share more about Jeanette’s oral skills further on. I haven’t forgotten the main reason we’re all here. So, let’s get to the good stuff.
Jeanette is a self-declared “Tom Boy.” She doesn’t like to dress up unless it’s absolutely necessary. She’s much more comfortable in sweats than in skirts. That’s a reality I’ve learned to accept. She has too many other good qualities I adore for me to dwell on the negative. Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want her to dress sexy more often.
After watching me obsess over Adrianne and the other hotly-dressed women on the Web, Jeanette decided she ought to learn more about this fetish of mine.
One night, we were sitting in the living room watching Must-See TV. Just before the end of the show, Jeanette got up and excused herself. I thought it was a little odd for her to get up and leave just before the last scene. Still, when the commercials ended and the show came back on, I quickly escaped back to E.R. or whatever show we were watching at the time.
Moments later, Jeanette walked back into the living room. She was wearing a red satin negligee with matching red heels and suntan control-top pantyhose. My dick never got hard so fast. The best thing about the way she looked was the nonchalant manner in which she never acknowledged her sudden change in attire. She just sat down next to me like there was nothing going on. Her hair was teased. Her lips were a fresh coat of red. She smelled like fresh cut flowers. Talk about hot!
As the evening news flickered on our TV screen, Jeanette swung her legs into my lap. I didn’t even want to touch her for the first few minutes. I just gawked at her with my jaw permanently dropped open. That’s when things got interesting. Without even acknowledging my presence, Jeanette pulled out her body massager, plugged it in, turned it on, and spread open her legs right next to me. She brought the head of the massager down to the wet spot on her cotton panel. She started slow, with her head turned and her eyes closed. Subconsciously, I started to touch myself. Then, she turned up the speed. She started writhing on the sofa, kicking her legs up high, spreading them in a wide open V. She was moaning in this full, throaty groan of masturbating ecstasy. I kicked my pants to the floor and joined her, jerking off in a blind frenzy. She started coming really loud, pinching her nipples and bucking up against the mechanical device, moaning and shouting through shattering orgasms. Then, just like that, she shut the massager off.
The next thing I remember, she was down on her knees between my legs, she was looking up at me with that same confident, aloof look in her eye. I watched my cock disappear down her throat. The blowjob, as usual, was incredible, but I was hypnotized by the sight of her in those red high-heeled pumps and those gleaming suntan pantyhose. I couldn’t take my eyes off her legs.
Finally, I told her to lie down on the floor. I found some scissors and cut that offensive cotton panel right out. My tongue found new places in her pussy it had never licked before. I couldn’t believe how wet she was. I rinsed my face in her vaginal juices. I ripped the pantyhose open even more so I could slide down and taste her ass. I used my fingers in both holes and sucked on her clit until she was coming for the second time. Then, I fucked her. To this day, Jeanette claims that I’ve never fucked her as hard as I did that night. I wanted to pound her through the floor and crash through our neighbors ceiling. When she wrapped her legs around me and I felt that nylon against my back, I hit the point of no return.
“Do you like the way my pantyhose feel while you fuck me,” she whispered.
“Yes!” I grunted. “God, I love it!”
“Don’t hold back,” she said. “Cum inside me.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. I emptied my balls in her pussy until my body collapsed on top of her. Of all the great sex I’ve had in my life, that night ranks right up there with the all-time best.
The second memorable evening occurred when Jeanette and I had actually broken up for a few months. She invited me over for dinner one night to talk things over. We had a nice meal, drank some wine and watched a movie. Then, she told me she had a surprise for me. She walked into her bedroom, shut the door and left me in the living room for five minutes. When she walked back out she was wearing a black lace bra, black 3-inch heels, black cotton t-back panties and a sparkling pair of sheer-to-waist black pantyhose. Did we get back together? You bet your ass we did.
God, she looked great. Her long black hair perfectly complemented her all black outfit. Her olive skin was a bright contrast to the darkness of her seductive ensemble. When she strutted back into the living room, it was clear she’d been planning this evening for some time. Still, I was putty in her soft, creamy hands.
There was something about wearing these hot outfits that changed Jeanette’s personality. In those black leather heels that elongated her thighs and calves and those mesmerizing Hanes Silk Reflections that drew my eye to every curve and crevice of her voluptuous body, she became my own version of Adrianne, a Pantyhose Goddess in the flesh. I had no idea what to say. I was frozen. But that seemed to suit Jeanette just fine.
She walked across the room, gracefully seated herself in a swivel chair and crossed her legs. Her hands constantly rubbed up and down the smooth fabric. She teased me with several slow, sensuous leg crosses. Then, she stood up, turned around and bent over the chair, giving me a perfect view of her healthy, round rump, leading straight down to those high heel pumps.
She could sense that I was getting really worked up. She told me it was going to be a long night and I should try to relax. She offered to relax me.
I was standing in the middle of the room. She walked up to me and dropped straight to her knees. She didn’t kiss me or even say a word. She unzipped my pants, pulled out my cock and swirled her tongue around the swollen head. She licked the pre-cum right off the tip and kissed her way down the shaft to my sweaty balls. She relished the musky scent, crawling between my legs to stick her tongue in my ass. How I remained standing, I have no idea. She looked up at me with those defiant brown eyes, rested the tip of my cock on her bottom lip, then gobbled it up in her hot, steaming mouth. She grabbed me by the ass and started fucking her own throat. She was on a mission. She wanted my cum and she was going to get it. That’s when I took control.
I slid out of her mouth and started jerking myself off in her face. She tried to lunge for my cock and I pulled it away. I rubbed the shaft all over her lips and let her make it nice and wet with her spit. I held the head in her mouth and stroked the shaft up and down. She drooled and slobbered all over it. Then, I held her by the back of the head and pumped my cock in and out of her mouth. She was moaning things like, “Mmm hmm,” to signal her encouragement of my vigorous face fucking. But evidently, I wasn’t pushing deep enough. So she grabbed me by the ass again and forced my cock down past her tonsils. She was puffing and gagging. Her eyes were watering. She loved every slutty second of it. Finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I told her I was going to come and she signaled, “Mmm hmm,” holding me steady in her waiting mouth. My cock erupted. I shot at least five times, probably more. Jeanette let the cum fill in her mouth until there was no more room. Then, she gulped it down. Whatever she didn’t swallow was left dripping off her chin. We got back together the same week.
The last episode I want to recall for you was more recent. Earlier this summer, I was sitting at home enjoying one of my favorite pantyhose videos when Jeanette walked in on me. She knows I love to watch my tapes so she didn’t get angry or anything. She just told me that she was hungry and wanted to know if I was interested in going out to eat. I told her I didn’t feel like going out and I’d rather just eat at home. Then, she said that if I went out with her, I could pick out whatever outfit I wanted her to wear. That got my attention!
I went to the closet and picked out my favorite dress. It was a purple dress, made out of a synthetic blend, about 10 percent spandex. It was tight and stretchy. It clung to every curve of her shapely figure. It had a glossy finish so it sparkled in the light, with a scoop neck, to show off her ample cleavage. The hemline came down to mid-thigh, so it was nice and short, as well.
To go with the dress, I pulled out some black strappy heels and a pair of Hanes Summer Sheer suntan control-top pantyhose. I laid the clothes down on the bed and went to the living room to wait while she got dressed. When she came out, I heard the click-clack of her heels stepping on the kitchen tile. She sauntered through the living room, twirling around in that purple handkerchief of a dress. Her thighs, her calves and her red polished toes were on full display, encased behind the sheer nylon of her glimmering suntan pantyhose and the black straps of leather barely covering her feminine feet. It’s a miracle we managed to leave the house.
As I drove down the street, Jeanette sat next to me, letting her dress ride high up her thighs. She was daring me to reach over and touch her legs. I left one hand on the wheel, as the other hand went straight for her knee. I let my fingers trace down her inner thigh, right down to her crotch. I almost swerved into on-coming traffic, when my fingers brushed the soft lips of her warm, wet pussy. She had cut out the cotton panel before we left. I was in total shock. I left my hand between her legs and fingered her all the way to the restaurant. She didn’t come, but the look on her face told me she couldn’t wait to get back home so I could finish the job.
We stopped to eat at a local tavern, where I was sure there’d be plenty of men around. From the moment we stepped inside, heads were turning all over the place. As we walked to our table, I let Jeanette walk ahead of me. Mainly, I just wanted to check her out from behind, but it was great seeing all of these single men stare at my girlfriend so openly. I wasn’t sure if she liked it as much as I did. But even if she was just performing for me, it was working big time.
As Jeanette sat down, she tugged on her dress to keep it from riding up too much when she sat down. All that did was bring more cleavage bursting up through the top. Our waiter was especially appreciative of the view he got, when he came to take our order. He checked on our table every 5 minutes. I acted like I didn’t notice, but I was eating it up. This was a side of Jeanette I had never seen. If she felt scared, nervous or exposed, she didn’t show it at all. I knew underneath that dress, her pussy was completely uncovered. The look in her eyes told me she was thinking about that too. She could sense my arousal and she fueled it as much as possible. She got up and went to ladies room twice, just to strut through the restaurant. She leaned forward and whispered, just to make sure I got a great view of her tits. She crossed her legs and rubbed her pantyhose constantly, just to remind me that they were there, waiting for me to get my hands on. If ever there was a definition of foreplay, this was it.
I don’t even remember driving back to our apartment. I just remember pushing her up against the bedroom wall and French kissing her like I’d just got out of prison. Out of fear that I would rip the dress in my fervor, she asked me to let her take it off. I said that was fine, I just wanted her to do it slowly. She turned her back to me and gradually raised the hemline up over her nylon-covered ass cheeks. When the dress was thrown over a chair, I walked up behind her, held her breasts in my hands and let her feel the bulge in my pants pressed against her. We pivoted just a bit so both of us could see ourselves in the sliding mirror on our closet. She watched my hands massage her breasts in the reflection. I studied her legs in the heels and hose as she grinded her ass against my erection.
I removed my clothes. Jeanette led me over to the bed. She lied down on the mattress and spread her legs for me. I kneeled down on the floor, right at the perfect level to lean in for a long, slow lick. Holding her by her smooth, silky thighs, I lovingly lapped her savory juices from her pussy to my mouth. Clearly, she had been quite aroused by her show at the restaurant. Her pussy was soaked. I slid one finger inside her but it wasn’t enough. She begged for two. I thrusted my fingers into her cunt with vigor as I flicked and swirled my tongue over her budding clit. She came instantly.
What happened next I’ll never forget. Jeanette went crazy. She spun herself around on the bed, so her head was falling over the edge of the mattress. Then, she told me to stand up. She wrapped her hand around the shaft of my cock and guided me right into her mouth. I was unsure how comfortable she was in this position, so I let her dictate the pace.
“I want you to fuck my mouth like you’re fucking my pussy,” she insisted.
How could I argue with that? I slumped over her chest, spread my legs and pumped my hips back and forth. I was amazed. Jeanette swallowed my cock down to the balls. She really got into it too. Her moans urged me to keep sliding my dick in and out of her wet, sucking mouth. The sensation was so soft, warm and tingly. It was incredible. But what really made it exciting was looking down and seeing the hole in the crotch of her pantyhose.
When my thrusting slowed down, she seemed to sense the reason for my distraction. She lifted her legs in the air and spread them far apart. She bent her legs at the knee and open her pussy lips wide for my inspection.
“Do you like the way I look in these pantyhose,” she said.
“I love it,” I said. “You know I love it.”
“Why?” She teased. “Because they make me look like a slut?”
“Ummm,” I stumbled. “Well, something like that, I guess.”
“It’s okay,” she assured me. “I love dressing up like a slut for you.”
Hearing those words ignited my libido like a nuclear bomb. I held her legs apart, leaned forward and attacked her pussy like a hungry bear. I licked, sucked and tongue-fucked her pussy until she was literally dragging herself away from me. If my cock was still in her mouth, I can’t even remember.
When we finally switched positions, I had her place both hands down on the bed, so her ass was facing me and her shoes were planted on the floor. At that angle, I could see our reflection in the mirror across the room. I wasted no time entering her pussy from behind. I held her by the hips and went right to work. Her pussy felt like hot melted butter. I could tell she didn’t want to let go of my cock by the way her cunt gripped my shaft. But all the while, my eyes stayed glued to the images in the mirror: her face screaming into a pillow, my cock jabbing in and out of her wet cunt, her legs and ass shining through sheer nylon and her sexy feet propped up by black strappy heels.
From the way she moaned and gripped the sheets, Jeanette seemed to be having a great time. But I was ready to change positions. I told her to lie down on the floor. She was happy to oblige. I wanted to feel those silky legs wrapped around me. I laid down on top of her and my cock slipped inside her right away. Her pussy was slick and dripping with juices. Jeanette was panting and whispering in my ear.
“Come on, fuck me Tim,” she breathed. “Fuck your pantyhose slut.”
“Unnnggghhh,” I grunted, thrusting into my Mexican beauty like a madman.
“Yes, don’t hold back, baby,” she told me. “I want to see you shoot that hot cum all over me.”
How could I deny a request like that? I was ready to explode. I pulled out and straddled her ample chest. She took my cue and held my cock between her massive tits. There’s nothing hotter than some good tit fucking. I bucked and pumped my cock between those globes until my head was spinning. Suddenly, Jeanette took my cock in her hand and starting stroking it fast. I moved up a bit to get closer to her lips. She quickly wrapped those lips around the swollen head of my cock. I straddled her face and soon my entire shaft was vanishing in her open mouth. Jeanette reached around and held me by my ass, guiding my cock down her throat. I kept my eyes on Jeanette’s reflection in the mirror. The sight of her lying spread eagle in those black heels and tan pantyhose sent me right over the edge.
“Oh God,” I shouted. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum on your face.”
“Mmmmmm,” she moaned, as she let me slide my cock out of her mouth.
I took hold of the shaft in my hand and stroked it as fast as I could. I looked down and saw my loving girlfriend smiling up at me with those deep brown eyes, her mouth open, her tongue extended. I closed my eyes and pictured her walking through the restaurant in that skimpy purple dress, showing off like a slut for all those strange men. My own beautiful high-heeled slut, in skin-tight pantyhose.
“Come on baby,” she whispered. “Cum on my face.”
Suddenly, every muscle in my body clenched. My hand tugged up and down on my cock, when the first spasm struck me like an earthquake. Thick ropes of hot white cum blasted from the tip of my cock. Jeanette lifted her head to catch my sperm in her mouth. Several shots landed on her tongue, while the rest coated her lips and chin. I rolled over on my back and Jeanette swiveled around to clean me off, licking every drop of cum off my cock, her face and her fingers. She completely wore me out. But it was worth every exhausting second.
Now, if only I could get her to dress like that all the time... Then again, I should be careful what I wish for. I probably couldn’t handle it. She may not wear pantyhose everyday. But that only makes me appreciate her that much more, when she does.
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Olivia's Secret
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Posted:Dec 11, 2019 3:51 am
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:14 am
3971 Views
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Olivia’s Secret
An original erotic story
Olivia watched him enter the store at precisely 3 pm. He was a blue-collar type, late thirties, ruggedly handsome, with a gold wedding ring on his left hand. He stood there between the garter belts and g-strings with a helpless look on his face, as Olivia assumed her role and greeted the bewildered shopper with a friendly smile.
“Welcome to Victoria’s Secret,” she said. “My name is Olivia. Can I help you find something today?”
The taller gentleman regarded her cautiously, raising an eyebrow as he looked around to see if anyone was watching.
“Promise not to laugh,” he said, with a sheepish grin. “But I’m a long way from Home Depot and I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Olivia laughed. His name was Derek. It was his first time venturing into the store by himself. He was actually looking for something to spice things up between him and his wife.
His well-defined muscles distracted her with lustful thoughts as he politely asked if she wouldn’t mind showing him around.
“Actually,” she said, regaining her focus, “we have many items to choose from. Are you interested in finding something for her, or would you say it’s more for you?”
Derek looked puzzled by the question. Olivia explained.
“In my experience,” she said, “most men who buy lingerie aren’t really looking for something functional, that is, something a woman would wear more than once. Usually, the man is looking to fulfill his own fantasy, if you know what I mean.”
Derek considered this for a moment then slowly nodded in agreement.
“I guess you could say I’m just like most men,” he admitted. “My wife doesn’t usually wear this sort of thing. I just figured maybe if I made the first move, it might rev things up a little…”
“In the bedroom,” Olivia added, finishing his thought. Derek nodded again. “I understand completely,” she said, reassuring him. “May I make a suggestion?”
“Please do,” Derek said.
“If you want your wife to have more sex appeal in the bedroom,” she told him, “you don’t need to buy her a lace teddy or a leather g-string. For most women, stuff like that actually makes them feel less sexy and more self-conscious, which isn’t good. What you want is something where your wife can look sexy and feel comfortable at the same time.”
Derek laughed. “Are you telling me I should just get her a pair of jeans and a T-shirt?”
Olivia smiled. “That’s one solution,” she said. “But I had something a little different in mind. Follow me.”
At that, Olivia led him to the farthest end of the store to a quiet section with no one else around. Derek used the opportunity to admire her shapely figure from head to toe. Her body was a feast for the eyes. Her breasts looked pert and suckable through the burgundy silk of her button-down blouse. Her waist was model thin, but her hips arched perfectly under the tight black miniskirt that clutched her curvaceous thighs. She had firm calves, tiny ankles and soft, delicate feet, all of which were beautifully augmented by a dazzling pair of black stilettos. His eyes followed her sexy shoes as they glided across the carpet.
Finally, Olivia stopped at a long row of wooden bins hidden there along the rear wall. She grabbed a small package, spun around and raised it emphatically with both hands.
“Pantyhose,” Derek said in disbelief. “What’s so great about pantyhose?”
Olivia gave him a knowing glance with her lustful brown eyes. She wet her lips and leaned forward, brushing her brown hair across his face.
“These aren’t regular pantyhose,” she explained patiently. “These are Victoria’s Secret seamless pantyhose.”
His face went blank. “Seamless?” he wondered. “I don’t get it. What’s the difference?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” she said. “But basically the difference is what they don’t have: no control top, no cotton panel, no stitching anywhere. When you put them on, they fit like a second skin.”
“I see,” Derek said. “That does sound a hell of a lot nicer than those scratchy things my wife usually wears.”
“Oh yes,” said Olivia. “These are like lingerie for your legs, so much nicer than those ordinary brands.”
“Really,” he said curiously. “Do you wear them yourself?”
“I’m wearing them now,” she said, offering her right leg as she raised it waist high. “Go ahead. Feel for yourself.”
She leaned back against the wall, stretching one leg for his careful inspection. From the pointed tip of her open-toed shoe to the taut flesh of her firm upper thigh, a sheath of black nylon patiently awaited his touch.
Derek placed his fingers on Olivia’s ankle and slowly let them wander over the silky pantyhose, sliding up to her knee. He challenged her with his eyes as his fingers continued along her outer thigh, but Olivia didn’t flinch. He lingered there, stroking her delicate thigh for just a moment longer, before slowly pulling away.
Olivia smiled, with a look of contentment in her eye as she stated officially, “Now you know what real pantyhose feel like.”
Derek nodded intently. “Quite a difference,” he said. “But I was wondering,” he then asked boldly. “Could you show me some other colors?”
Olivia could tell by the hungry look on his face that Derek was just as excited as she was. She had always enjoyed a good tease, but this was quickly becoming something more daring than anything she had ever done before. If Derek was truly interested in testing her limits, then Olivia was all too eager to see how far he was willing to go.
“All right,” she said, accepting his unspoken challenge. “I have an idea. Why don’t we go into one of the dressing rooms in the back? I’ll pick out a few colors and you can tell me which ones you like.”
Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed three more packages and hurried into an empty dressing room. She waited there for a minute until he quietly stepped in behind her.
The room itself was no bigger than your average walk-in closet. It had mirrors on all sides, with one long leather-cushioned bench. Olivia stood at the far side of the room, while Derek locked the door from the inside.
As she started to remove her blouse, she had already noticed the visible signs of his arousal swelling inside his jeans. The thought of what Derek intended to do with his throbbing member made Olivia weak in the knees. She briefly considered the consequences if they were caught, but clearly they had reached the point of no return.
“I’ve never done this sort of thing,” she said anxiously. “We could both end up in serious trouble.”
Derek didn’t answer. His eyes honed in with fierce determination prodding her with only a nod. He waited expectantly as Olivia dropped her blouse and then shimmied out of her skirt, leaving her in a black satin bra, with black shoes and black pantyhose.
“What else would you like to see today, sir?” she offered suggestively.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered, taking control.
“Like this,” she answered, standing with one shoe three feet apart from the other.
With no panel in the way, the lips of her wet pussy were clearly visible through the nylon. Her juices seeped into the pantyhose, filling the air with the unmistakable aroma of her glistening sex.
“Play with yourself,” he demanded. Olivia needed little encouragement. Still, she enjoyed being told what to do.
She spit on three fingers and pressed them against her slit, rubbing in circles. She clutched her left breast, kneading it with her opposite hand, as the fingers rubbing against her pussy gradually built speed. She masturbated openly, as Derek stood there in silence, squeezing himself through his jeans.
“Show me your cock,” begged Olivia. “I want to see how hard you are.”
Derek unzipped his pants. The swollen head of his throbbing penis poked through the hole like an armed missile ready to explode. The sight of it made Olivia crazy with lust. She slipped her fingers under the pantyhose and gave herself a good finger fucking. The stretchy nylon allowed her to use two hands. Her middle finger sank in all the way, as her other hand furiously rubbed her clit. Every few seconds, she would bring her gooey fingers up to her mouth and joyfully lick them clean.
Derek watched, stroking his cock in earnest. It was long and thick like the wide end of a beer bottle. Olivia took a nail, poked a hole through the pantyhose and suddenly ripped open the crotch.
“Fuck me,” she panted desperately. “Fuck me now!”
Derek leapt at the invitation, closing the space between them with a heated kiss.
His hands roamed over Olivia’s body, gently careening down her back, sliding down to the rolling cheeks of her ass, rubbing and squeezing them through the pantyhose.
He dropped to his knees and threw her left leg over his right shoulder. Olivia jolted as his hot tongue suddenly fluttered in circles around her swollen clit. His mouth closed over her steaming hole as his tongue delved inside. Olivia grinded her wet mound against his face, as Derek delivered a relentless tongue lashing. The intensity was almost more than she could stand. She grabbed him by the hair, mashing his face against her clit.
She moaned, “Lick my pussy, baby. Make it nice and wet for your big cock.”
Derek lapped away at her sticky box until his face was covered in juices. He spun her around so her back was turned and her face was pressed against the mirror. He told her to reach back, bend over and spread her ass cheeks. Olivia wasn’t sure what was coming but she played along willingly. She felt Derek’s hot breath hovering against her backside. His face brushed against her inner cheeks. Slowly, his tongue glided down the crack of her ass. He curled the tip and then slowly pushed it inside the hole.
“Oh God,” Olivia moaned. “Are you licking my ass?” Derek swirled his tongue and drove it in deeper. He pulled back, licked around the rim, and then poked it in again. Over and over, he tongue fucked Olivia’s tasty asshole. Her wiggling hips made it that much easier to cram his tongue as deep as it would go. After getting his fill, he backed off and quietly stood back up.
He placed both of her hands over her head against the mirror. He gripped her by the waist and then watched the expression on her face through the reflection. She could feel the tip of his cock wedging itself between her moist slit. She closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip as she braced herself against the glass. With one thrust, the force of his raging hard-on drilling her tight gash left Olivia breathless. He swiveled his hips in a circular motion, churning his cock in out like a pump. His cock was huge, but Olivia instinctively pushed back demanding every inch. He held her by her upper thighs and picked up his pace, slamming his full weight against her.
The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Olivia reached back and tore off her bra. Derek seized her luscious tits and squeezed them with both hands. His fingers danced over her delicate nipples and Olivia squealed with delight as she started to come.
“Oh God, I’m coming!” she cried. “Oh God, don’t stop. Oh yes, make me come on your cock. Oh yeah, oh fuck yeah. It’s right there. Oh God, I’m coming! Oh yes! Yes! Yes! YES!”
Olivia soared to a thunderous climax that shook every part of her body. She panted and shuddered through every spasm, unable to catch her breath. Yet, Derek still wasn’t done with her. He set her down on all fours and tore the pantyhose away from her flesh, leaving her ass completely exposed.
Suddenly, Olivia felt the warm sensation of Derek’s tongue once again invading her asshole, only this time his tongue was quickly replaced by a finger. Soon, there were two fingers prying open her back door. She creamed at the perverse thought of taking that huge cock in her ass.
Derek rimmed Olivia’s butthole until it gleamed with saliva. Carefully, he crept behind her and pressed the tip of his cock against her tight anal ring. He pushed just enough to pop the head inside. Olivia jerked. He steadied himself. Then, gradually, he eased his thick shaft through her clenching rectum. He followed through all the way until his balls rested against her pussy. Again, he waited, holding Olivia’s shoulders for leverage. He slid back and pumped forward with one hard thrust.
Olivia groaned when she felt his cock bottom out. She reached between her legs and immediately started rubbing her clit. Her hips swiveled to accept his substantial girth. She voiced her enjoyment with a low moan, as Derek gradually found his rhythm.
“Can you feel that big cock in your ass?” said Derek.
“Oh yes,” Olivia whimpered. “It’s so fucking huge.”
“Do you like it baby?”
“Yes,” she told him. “I love it. I love feeling your cock in my ass.”
Olivia locked on with her relentless grip and milked him for all she was worth. Derek pounded her with all his might, but Olivia met him stroke for stroke like a true pantyhose slut. When Derek pulled out, she spun around and took his cock deep down her throat.
Olivia sucked Derek’s cock with reckless abandon. She lathered it in warm spit, using no hands and little effort to greedily inhale his enormous cock repeatedly. She gripped the shaft in her left hand and vigorously jerked him off over her open mouth. Her hand was a blur as she pumped, sucked and slobbered on the swollen head.
With her reverent brown eyes, she looked up at Derek’s face as she worshipped his all-mighty cock with her wet desperate mouth.
“God, I just love your cock,” she declared, moaning and slurping all over it. “I love sucking it. I can’t wait for you to come,” she whispered, knowing full well the effect she was having in those high heels and pantyhose. “Are you ready to come for me?”
Derek looked beside himself.
“Do it, baby,” she said, as her slick hand took hold of his cock and purposely pumped it up and down. “Cum in my mouth.”
Finally, her persistence was rewarded as the first stream of hot cum splattered across her face. “Oh yes,” she squealed. “That’s it, give it to me,” she said, pulling out another squirt that sprayed all over her lips. “In my mouth, baby,” she insisted, as a third eruption blasted her chin and dripped all over her tits. “I know there’s more,” she said urgently. “Come on, give me more!” she ordered, as the final shot landed on the tip of her tongue and she eagerly swallowed it down.
“Jesus,” Derek said, shaken and out of breath. “You are the hottest woman I’ve ever met in my life.”
Olivia sat beneath him drenched in cum. “Do you really think so?” she said, beaming with pride.
“Oh, there’s no doubt about it,” he told her. “It’s just a shame I’m already married.”
“I see,” she said. “That is a shame. We could have a lot more fun together.”
“That’s for sure,” he said. “I never knew pantyhose could be this exciting.”
“I’m glad I could show you,” she said. “But I do have one question for you, baby.”
“What’s that?” Derek said.
“How do you plan on getting us out of here so we can go home?”
Derek shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his chin. “You think if we offer to buy all the pantyhose, they might let us go?”
Olivia thought about it briefly then nodded. “It’s worth a shot,” she said. For some reason, Derek started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, wiping the semen off her face.
Her husband smiled. “I guess now Victoria has two secrets.”
Olivia sat there looking unamused, with a smirk on her face. “Oh, that’s cute, honey,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’re just lucky I love you so much that I went along with this crazy idea.”
Derek nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’m also extremely lucky that you love pantyhose as much as I do.”
“That’s true, too,” Olivia said. “Now let’s hurry up and buy these, so you can take me home and fuck me in another pair…”
The End
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Why I Love Pantyhose
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Posted:Dec 11, 2019 3:40 am
Last Updated:Apr 28, 2024 7:14 am
5087 Views
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Why I Love Pantyhose
(Originally written in November 1999)
Once again, I find myself sitting in front of the keyboard, strangely compelled to bare my soul.
What I’d like to do is attempt to answer the question so many have asked, but few have answered. What is this obsession with pantyhose? Where does it come from? What is it about pantyhose that excites men so much?
My reasons for loving pantyhose may not be exactly the same as yours. Yet, nevertheless, I’m writing this essay so hopefully I will learn as much about myself as the people who read it.
I still remember my first encounter with nylons. I was 7 or 8 years old. I was staying at my grandmother’s house for the weekend. But for some reason, my grandmother wasn’t around. Being the curious prepubescent boy that I was, I started rummaging around in her room. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I didn’t need an excuse to be curious at that age.
What I uncovered was an opened package of Leggs Sheer Energy pantyhose. You know, those kind that come in those purple square packages. Well, what got my attention wasn’t the pantyhose. It was the outline of the female anatomy on the back. I remember seeing a minimal drawing of a woman with two breasts and two legs closed together, with a simple V between her legs to outline her female sex. It was the closest thing to pornography I had ever seen at that age. In my subconscious, I was already starting to associate pantyhose with female nudity.
Without considering any of the consequences, I pulled the silky undergarments from the package. They were all balled up and wrinkly. To look at them, they weren’t especially interesting in any way. But touching them was different. They felt really nice, so smooth and tingly against my fingers. I rubbed them all over my hands, my face and my legs. Then, it occurred to me. I should put them on, just like the woman on the package. From the moment the thought came into my mind, it seemed like a great idea. I stripped out of my clothes and awkwardly fumbled around with the Leggs Sheer Energy down around my ankles. Somehow, even in my youthful ignorance, I managed to pull them on. The sensation was electrifying. I got so excited that the muscle in my right leg went into spasms and started bouncing up and down. I hadn’t discovered masturbation at that age yet. So my goal wasn’t reaching orgasm. My goal was to understand what it felt like to walk around in this soft, delicate material all day, just like a woman.
Suddenly, I was startled by a voice coming from outside the bedroom. It was my aunt, Alyson, my mother’s sister. She walked right in on me. All I remember is the sound of her laughing hysterically.
I was mortified.
“Timmy’s wearing stockings like a girl,” she joked.
I didn’t think it was funny. I just wanted her to leave me alone. I pulled my shirt back on and sat there on the end of the bed, stiff as a bored. I didn’t want to stand up or try taking the pantyhose off. I was too embarrassed. I didn’t want Alyson to see me undress either. To make matters worse, she hopped on the bed to taunt me even more. She couldn’t have been more than 16 at the time. At that age, this sort of thing was very amusing.
I didn’t know what else to do. So I just showed her the package I had found. I explained that I just wanted to see what they felt like. She seemed to enjoy staring at me as I wore them. It wasn’t uous in any direct way. It was just youthful curiosity, the excitement of seeing something totally foreign, considering all the possibilities. When I realized she had no intention of telling anyone about the incident, I relaxed. Alyson left the room giggling and shaking her head. To her, I was just a silly little boy without a clue. That’s how my obsession began.
From that day forward, my awareness of pantyhose as a sexualized item was keen. When my mother would walk around our apartment wearing her stockings, as she called them, I would feel highly uncomfortable. She didn’t feel like she was undressed. But I had already developed my association with pantyhose and nudity. So, seeing my mother half dressed in her stockings was always unpleasant, but it continued the sexual association with pantyhose in my subconscious, whether I wanted it to or not.
As a , I spent quite a bit of time at church. My mother was a very religious person and she wanted me to be as well. But I didn’t go to church to sing songs and learn about Jesus. I went to look at the women. At our church, back in Boston, everyone dressed to the nines. I would sit in my seat and looked down the rows and see women’s legs in all shapes and sizes. Every one of them wore pantyhose with their high heels and Sunday dresses. Fantasizing about all those women was the best way to escape those boring sermons. I would watch the women cross their legs back and forth, dangling their shoes and running their hands over the nylon, relishing the luxurious feel of that glossy material. Again, pantyhose always equated with sex in my mind.
In junior high, my favorite teacher was Miss Romanos from 7th grade Spanish. She was half Puerto Rican, half Irish American. She had light blonde hair and freckles, but her complexion was actually quite tan. I don’t remember much about her face or her eyes. I just remember her coming to class everyday with that sexy Hispanic accent, wearing denim skirts or summer dresses, with high heels and pantyhose. Most of the students in her class were boys. She had a famous habit of sitting up on the edge of her desk during her lectures. All the boys locked their eyes between her legs, as she crossed her legs back and forth for 45 minutes. She didn’t seem to be aware of the way she teased us, giving up brief glimpses of her crotch every 5 minutes. But all the boys believed she was giving us a show on purpose. It was my first pantyhose leg tease.
When I got to be about 17 or 18 years old, in my sexual prime, a new neighbor moved in next door to us. Her name was Shelly. She was about 30 years old, 5’7”, 115 lbs., dirty blonde hair, green eyes and C-cup breasts. I could always tell when she was going to work or coming home because I could hear the clickety-clack of her high heels on the concrete as she walked through our apartment complex. Whenever I heard those high heeled footsteps, I leapt to my window to catch a glimpse of her in a tight skirt and suntan pantyhose, which she never failed to wear. I can’t tell you how many times I jerked off dreaming about this woman.
One great thing about Shelly was that she had a . He was about 9 years old, but we became friends anyway. In fact, we became such good friends that Shelly would let me stay with him in their apartment whenever she went out. Him and I would watch movies or play games for a while, but then I’d let him go outside and play with his younger friends. This, of course, gave me the opportunity to browse around in Shelly’s bedroom. I opened drawer after drawer looking for her sexy unmentionables. Then, finally, I hit pay dirt. She had all sorts of lacy bras, satin panties, garters, thigh highs and, of course, dozens of pairs of pantyhose in all colors. I was in Heaven.
I spent hours fumbling through her underwear drawer, until I discovered her laundry hamper. That’s where the real buried treasures were hidden. All the pantyhose she had worn during the week were in that hamper. I lifted them out to sniff the crotch and smell her sweet perfumed scent. I sniffed her cotton panties too, but the pantyhose were what I loved most. I would stuff them in my pocket, take them home and jerk off with them in my room. Then, I’d wash them in the sink, let them dry and sneak them back in Shelly’s room a few days later. She never caught on.
One day, I used a pair of keys that Shelly had given to my mother for emergencies, to sneak into her apartment while she was at work and her was at school. I went through my normal ritual of pulling pantyhose from the hamper, when it occurred to me that I should try wearing Shelly’s pantyhose myself.
These pantyhose weren’t the cheap kind like those Leggs Sheer Energy. These were an indescribably soft blend of cotton and silk. They had no reinforced toes, no control tops, nothing unsightly at all. They glided up my legs like a second skin. I was so horny, it was almost painful. I didn’t even want to touch myself in them. I just walked around her apartment wearing her pantyhose like I imagined she did.
I started looking at the books on her shelves, when I noticed a small book with a strange flowery cover. I pulled it down. It was a diary. It was Shelly’s diary.
I sat down with the book and slowly turned page after page. Shelly had written down her experiences from high school, college, all the way to the present. Most of it was pretty boring stuff, but every six or seven pages there was something written about a guy. Shelly had been with a lot of guys.
She described all sorts of men, White and Black, tall and short, skinny and fat, young and old. She even described how good they were in bed. She liked the ones with big cocks. She loved the ones who ate her pussy. She tried anal sex a few times. She found that she didn’t mind the taste of semen that much. She liked to be tied up and spanked more than she expected. She loved letting men have control. She even wrote about being with two guys at the same time. It was unbelievable.
I sat there reading those memories over and over. I fondled my cock through her pantyhose as she recalled the best sex of her life. But the hottest stories were the ones she wrote about playing with herself. Shelly seemed to like masturbating more than she liked intercourse. She wrote about masturbating in the shower and in the tub as a . She wrote about using her first vibrator in college. She wrote about using dildos, even putting them in her ass. She masturbated with cucumbers, brush handles and wine bottles. She described her sweaty, screaming orgasms in vivid detail which always made me shoot cum all over myself, wearing her pantyhose. I don’t know how good a job I did getting the cum stains out of her nylons, but I never heard a word about anything. Shelly was the woman who firmly cemented my pantyhose obsession.
When I started working full-time in different offices around the city, all the women dressed to impress. Soon, all my fantasies involved women in business suits, wearing blazers and silk blouses, short skirts and expensive leather pumps. My boss was a 40-year-old Italian blonde with a taste for straight mini skirts and sheer clinging tops. I’d sit in her office and try to conceal my erection as she crossed her legs right in front me. I’d hear the crisp sound of nylon rubbing together and chills would go down my spine.
She was an older woman. She was in great shape, but she wasn’t exactly beautiful. Still, all I cared about was ogling her legs in those hot little skirts. I almost never called in sick.
Moving from the North to the Southwest was a huge adjustment. I was glad to be in college, but the weather in Arizona kept most of the women in shorts, tank tops and sandals. College girls don’t dress like the career women I used to see in the offices back home. Thank God for the Internet. Browsing the Web, I found tons of pictures of sexy secretaries, erotic executives and busty businesswomen. But the pictures I found on the major porn sites were missing the intimate thrill that I felt when I saw a woman in a short skirt and high heels just walking down the street. Then, one day I discovered the Amateur Index. There was a link on the site to another site called Amateur Adrianne. Here was an amateur model whose specialty was actually modeling in pantyhose. I knew instantly, this was the site for me. I followed the link and my life hasn’t been the same since. Adrianne allowed me to rediscover my love for sophisticated women who dress to thrill, in high heeled shoes and exhilarating pantyhose.
Since discovering Adrianne, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting other lovely ladies like Annie, Cinnamon, Kristy, Brianna, Isabell, Hotlegs, Lara4Play and the fabulous Elise. All of these women in their own unique ways, truly personify the sensual mystique behind that simple article of clothing called pantyhose.
So why do I love pantyhose so much? Well, it’s all about the art of the tease. When a woman wears pantyhose, I feel a signal. I sense her inner desire to be admired. Subconsciously, she’s asking me to look at her legs, to enjoy their shape and their shine. She wants me to notice how sexy she is. Yet, unlike stockings and garters, pantyhose aren’t as obvious. To me, that’s a good thing. A woman wears pantyhose the way men wear socks. The fact that they’re so ordinary is the reason they’re so intriguing. To a woman, it’s a natural, essential part of her wardrobe. And that’s exactly what I want to see, the things real women wear everyday. I don’t want her to pretend to be sexy. I want her to be herself. Natural sex appeal is always the most alluring.
Pantyhose are really underwear worn as outerwear. They cover the private area, but they’re always visible. They conjure the mystery of what’s hidden underneath. Pantyhose suggest the potential of full nudity, without giving the prize away too quickly. They create a fantasy, where I imagine how the nylon might feel against my body. Somehow, I want to share in that soft, feminine sensation, and feel what it might be like to live inside a woman’s skin. Lastly, to put it simply, when worn by the right woman, pantyhose enhance the natural beauty that’s already there. Pantyhose are the foreplay of my sexual imagination.
T. Scott
11/4/99
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