Archive for the 'fetish' Category

Hurray For Stockings

I have a very clear and fond memory of the circumstances surrounding my very first pair of stockings. I’d just turned fifteen and my father had given me his credit card with permission to specifically purchase a pair of pantyhose and a few other girlie things. I didn’t want pantyhose. I wanted nylons and a garter belt. And I was bound and determined to have my way.

Never underestimate a teenage girl’s ingenuity, particularly when she has her babysitting money stashed away for a rainy day…or lingerie.

When I returned from the mall, I hastily scooted past my father, who was working a crossword puzzle at the kitchen table, and up to my bedroom, before he could ask to see what was in my packages. Once I’d hidden the Victoria’s Secret swag, I returned with his credit card and a receipt which clearly listed pantyhose as one of my purchases. He was happy and I was happy.

The first time I wore those stockings was for an interview for a summer job. I’d bought a new dress and my first pair of really high heels that day at the mall, too, so I was feeling pretty grown-up when I went out the front door and hurried to the bus stop, resume in hand.

Now I’d already pretty much figured out how to get and keep a boy’s attention by then. (When you’re Catholic, such talents are part of your DNA.) In fact, I thought I was pretty good at this boy-girl thing. But until that day, I had no idea that –just by slipping into a sexy pair of nylons– I could increase my sex appeal (translation: power) ten fold.

Teenagers, grandfathers, adolescents, middle-aged men–it didn’t matter–were ogling me, opening doors, smiling, melting, practically drooling. Perhaps some heavenly alignment had brought all the stocking fetishists out to play on that particular day. Or could it be that I looked so damn hot I was actually creating them in my wake? Nah! I really think each and every man has at least a little bit of a stocking fetish. Pretty legs are…well…they’re pretty!

At one point a man stopped me. “Miss,” he said, “I hope you don’t take offense, but I just want to tell you that you have beautiful gams.” Of course, being fifteen, I’d never heard the word “gams” before. And while I might have been a vixen in training, I was (and still am) a polite young lady. So I smiled brightly and said, “Thank you very much,” and continued down the street.

Later I asked an adult and found out that gams referred to legs … a word The Chairman of the Board might have used to describe Shirley MacClaine’s lanky appendages. So my own little mini lingerie fetish was born. Because if it was good enough for Shirley and the Rat Pack, it was good enough for me.

Besides, stockings are so damn sexy, aren’t they?

In the Corner

rubylipsnailsIn the corner he stands.  Facing the wall, his hands to his sides.  Naked and appearing so vulnerable, so alone.  And you might, indeed, think him a lonely man.  A sad man.  Even maybe a pathetic man.  But let’s take a closer look before we go away with our own first impressions, shall we?

Look, when we try to peer into his eyes (because really, when it’s all said and done, that’s where one can quickly ascertain the truth of a person, isn’t it?), there’s something covering his face.  My, oh, my, is that what I think it is?  Yes, it is.  Panties!  Panties covering the dear boy’s face.  Now what did he do to merit that?

But, wait!  Look at how the crotch of those panties are placed strategically over his nose.   We must get in a little closer.  Let’s just cozy up next to him and see exactly what is going on here.   Goodness!  Looked at how soiled the panties are!  Even from here the scent is quite robust.  The scent of sex, I dare say.  The pungent scent of man-woman sex.  Intriguing.  Quite intriguing.

Now that we are so close, do you see what I see?  Look at that penis sticking out so straight and stiff from his groin.  Hmmm.  A rather small one, isn’t it?  Nonetheless, it’s quivering and bobbing just a bit.  Pity to the poor woman he might try to mount with that silly little thing.  How tedious and utterly boring it would be for her, don’t you think?

Do you hear that?  Coming from the wall of the corner our little mini-meat-man stands against?  It’s muffled, but still exuberant and loud.  What could it be?  Did you see that?  I do believe that puny appendage of his just twitched.  Why, he’s reacting to the moans and groan, the creak of bed springs, the slapping of flesh we are hearing from the other side of that eggshell white wall!  And look at that!  He just took a deep sniff of those panties.  Oh, he did it again.  And again.  Look at that tiny stone pencil of his actually quivering.

Wait.  Someone is saying something from behind the wall.  Let’s listen.

This is what you deserve, you sad excuse for a husband.  Do you hear me, Henry?  Are you smelling the fuck on my panties while I’m getting my next dose of real man cock?  You’re a loser, Henry.  And you’ll stand there in the corner like the sorry dick-wad you are while I fuck this stud.

Oh my!  I think we have our answers.  And, at this point, I do believe we should leave Henry to his moment of bliss.

Samantha

“You wouldn’t dare!”

I hoped I sounded cocky, my usual smart-ass self. But, from the look on her face, Samantha wasn’t buying it. Mindy was laughing, watching Samantha as she taunted and teased me. And since I was tied up, there wasn’t much I could do about any of it. Samantha smiled, leaning over my torso, stretching to adjust the leather straps holding my wrists to the bed post.

“You think so, huh?” Then, looking back at Mindy, “Tell him what I was doing this afternoon.”

Because of her petite frame, girlish titties and wispy yellow hair, everybody assumed Mindy was innocent. And she played it for all it was worth. Always wearing tiny tank tops so you could see the hard little buds of her nips through the cotton. And then those wafer-thin sandals, ankle bracelets and toe rings. A lot of the time she even wore her hair in those little-girl braids or pony tails. And the guys ate it up. But I knew better. She was a wicked little thing and dangerous as hell. Now she was looking at me, and I didn’t like that smirk on her face.

“Samantha and I were drinking beer.”

So what, I was thinking and probably would have figured out what Mindy meant pretty quickly if right then she hadn’t distracted me, suddenly pulling up that swatch of pink cloth that went for her skirt and smiling at me.

“Uh, Samantha, honey? Your girlfriend forgot her panties.”

I couldn’t believe what came next. Samantha walked right over to Mindy and knelt in front of her, pulling those small pouty lips apart and putting her tongue right in the open slit. But my cock believed it. Oh boy did it believe it! It was pushing against the zipper of my jeans in no time flat. Of course little Miss Mindy noticed right away.

“Lover boy’s getting a hard-on.”

Samantha was so wrapped up in Mindy’s snatch, I’m not even sure she even heard me. I was starting to get a little peeved. I mean what was the point of all of this? But then Mindy moaned and grabbed Samantha’s head, her fingers pushing through the brunette curls, and started pumping her hips. I wanted loose. Mindy or no Mindy, I wanted some of that action. And Samantha knew it. I’d been begging since we’d moved in together to try a three-way with me. I knew she’d been with girls before we got together, yet she always brushed me off, said she was done with “all of that.” So what was she up to?

“Samantha, come on. Untie me.”

She turned, her hands splayed across Mindy’s pelvis, looking across at me from down on her knees. I thought I was going to cum in my pants, right then and there. Her beautiful, naturally pink lips were smeared with Mindy’s juices. I couldn’t help it. I moaned.

And that is when they knew they had me. Next thing I know they were on the bed crawling all over me, rearranging this, untying that, pushing me here, retying there. I was helpless. And, I’ll admit it, I really didn’t mind. Both girls rubbing up against me as they got me where they wanted me.

Anyway, next think I know, while my left hand is still tied to the headboard, my right hand is now tied to my cock and Samantha is squatting over my cock. Mindy is perched above my head, that smooth open pussy almost dripping on me. I swear her clit was the size of a grape. And I wanted it. I wanted it bad.

“Stroke your cock and I’ll let you get a taste of that,” Samantha said as she lowered her hips down a little. I could see her spread right over my crotch and instinctively squeezed my buttocks and thrust my hips up. She pulled back quickly.

“No, no, no….”

“Please, Samantha, just untie me. Let’s play. Come on, honey.”

“Oh, we’re going to play. We are just going to play my way–not yours. Got it?”

“You heard her. Samantha’s way. That’s the only way you get to cum,” Mindy said, lowering those swollen, moist lips to the very tip of my nose, barely grazing it. I inhaled deeply. I felt my cock flinch in my tied up fist.

“Stroke it.”

Samantha’s voice was stern. She meant business, and I was so hot I didn’t care any more. I started jacking off my meat, feeling the nylon rope tugging at my knuckles and wrist with each stroke. I started moaning and groaning–I couldn’t help it–as Mindy finally lowered that slick, wet, throbbing cunt onto my face. Her slender, hard thighs were pressing in against my cheeks. I felt trapped. But I didn’t want to be anywhere else and began licking furiously, swallowing every bit of juice that ran onto my tongue.

I felt myself riding that wave, could feel my balls drawing up and tightening, when Samantha grabbed my wrist. She didn’t stop me, but slowed my pumping down just enough that I couldn’t cum. I was losing my mind.

“I said my way, baby, and I mean it. So what’s it gonna be? Huh? My way or no cummy for cocky? You tell me.”

“Answer her,” Mindy said, lifting up. She shoved those slender fingers into her pussy and rotated her hips. “You want more of this? Do you? Do you want to jerk that dick of yours?  Then tell Samantha you’ll do what your told.”

“Yes.  Fuck it. Yes. Just let me cum. Let go of my arm. Just tell me what you want.  I’ll do it, damn it, I’ll do it.”

“Good boy! That’s just what I needed to hear.”

Samantha finally let go of my wrist, then slid up between my legs.  She reached under my knees and started pushing my legs up.  I was so out of it, I didn’t really get what was going on, but then Mindy was wrapping her sticky fingers around my neck, cupping my jaw, me still looking up into that beautiful slit.  I think I was whimpering at that point, watching my pelvis moving closer to my face, seeing my fist-wrapped, dripping prick right there.  Right there in front of my fucking face and I didn’t even care now, because I would do anything to cum.  And the girls knew it.

“Open your mouth and jerk,” Mindy said as her thumbs slid into the corners of my mouth.”

Samantha giggled.  “Go ahead.”  That stern voice again.  “You got your threesome, now you’re going to show your appreciation.”  I could feel Mindy wedging her thumbs, forcing my mouth open.

I started jerking, moaning, bucking my hips, grunting.

“You gonna cum, Jerky Boy?  You gonna swallow your load?” Mindy taunted.

And then there it was, gushing into my mouth, all over my face, down my chin.

I was cumming so hard,  I could feel my curved tailbone bouncing off the mattress, the muscles in my thighs clenching and un-clenching as I humped my own hand.

And I swallowed and I swallowed and I swallowed.