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Stocking

By: BeautifulSaint



It takes ten minutes to make him coffee when I'm wearing the bar. At least, if I don't want to demolish the kitchen. But it has to be right, or else he'll take the pad off me. The pad sits across the back of my neck and stops the bar wearing against my skin. Too much sugar, not strong enough, and I'll end up sweating and chafing against the steel. 

I should maybe explain. Not a lot of people ever get to wear a discipline bar. It's a one-and-a-half metre steel with a cuff at either end for my hands and a half-hoop in the middle to hold it over the back of my neck. If you ever see pictures of those old-fashioned milkmaids with the yokes? Yeah, like that.

Why? Because he told me to.

I turn one-eighty and bend at the waist to pick up the mug from the worktop.

Just at that moment, the printer starts to whir and roll down the hall. And, from another room, "Bitch?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Pick up that manifest on your way."

"Yes, sir."

The corridor has to be negotiated at an angle, being just slightly less than a metre-and-a-half-plus-a-mug wide. The door handle necessitates bending deep at the knees and turning my hand against the shackle, rather than turning my arm. Turn one arm, turn the bar, turn the mug, turn the coffee out over the floor. And he wouldn't like that. 

It's only when I get into the living room that I realize he's put the printer on the floor. I have to kneel, set the coffee down on the floor and pivot sideways to retrieve the pages. Get the coffee back, shift my weight backward onto my heels and get back up. And I'm feeling happy, feeling proud of myself for managing, for being so good, and I'm about to leave, when I see the gleaming ring on the wood floor. The mug. Now, I could leave it and it might dry out and be no problem, but what if it goes sticky? What if it bleaches, or leaves the sugar as it evaporates? He won't like that. I weigh up the risk and it's just not worth it. I move to stand directly over it, test my balance on one foot before slipping the other out of its shoe. 

He left me out black shoes this morning. Flat black pumps. Thank God.

With the toe of my stocking I polish up the ring, slide my shoe back on, and breathe out slow relief. 

"Bitch?" His voice takes a handful of my insides and twists. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." 

A little faster than I normally would with the bar, I make my way down the hall to his office. He doesn't like me to hurry. I shouldn't have to. I should do everything with grace, with poise. I should be a duchess, be a doll. Duchesses don't breathe heavy. Dolls don't get flushed. 

The office door is shut. I change my grip on the printed sheet, holding it between finger and thumb, so that I can knock with my last three fingers. I stand back and wait. It's the count of fifteen, and then, "Enter." I do it again, that deep knee squat, to manage the door handle. It's an honour to be allowed inside and I try to do it quietly, respectfully. I cross between the bookshelves and stand at the side of his desk, keeping my eyes on the papers in front of him, until he reminds me to lift my chin.

"Sorry, sir."

Directly ahead of me, in my new line of sight, the small marble Persephone on the shelf lounges, one delicately carved fingertip touching the cut edge of a half-pomegranate.

"You can set the coffee down now."

I do so with best grace, on the ball of my foot, knees together. The balance is precarious, but it's worth it to feel him watch me. Even if I can't see his eyes I know they're there. His breath moves across my eyelashes, my lips as I straighten again and the gaze ruffles all through me, like feathers, like torture. It's as I rise that he takes the sheet from my other hand and holds it out to the light to study it. Scrupulously, he eyes every inch, but in the process he murmurs distractedly, "And how are you today, Bitch?"

"Fine, sir. Thank you, sir."

"And how is your bar?"

"Fine, sir. Thank you, sir."

Without the slightest change in the tone of his voice, "And what is this?" It is a small, crescent-shaped scar on the paper he asked me to bring. It is the imprint of the fingernail of the pointer finger of my left hand, because I pinched it too hard when I knocked the office door. I shouldn't have done that, and my throat seizes so I can't even tell him this. "What is this?" he asks again.

I manage, "Bad."

"That's right, Bitch. Now go to your room and wait for me."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

I won't cry. I just won't. That'll only make it worse. I leave the office feeling like I never should have been allowed into it and go slowly, carefully, down the hall. Watch my feet and count my steps and keep blinking, keep holding it back. 

The door of my room was removed from the frame a week ago as punishment. He found me rubbing myself against the bedpost. He comes in more now, trying to catch me again, but I'm good. Most of the time I'm good. It's only very rarely that it all just piles up, just builds in me and it's not that I mean to be bad. I don't always realize I'm doing it. But he didn't like catching me. Especially not when he gave me the largest room, and the four-poster. Especially not with the curtains wide-open. I wasn't properly ashamed and so he reminded me. 

I still remember. I'm ashamed today.

I wait where I know he'll want me, standing on the dressing stool. Chin up. Not crying. He makes me wait. I'm not allowed a clock, so I don't know quite how long, but the bar weighs heavy across my neck and my arms drag down on my wrists in the shackles and my fingertips go numb. On the wall behind me are instruments, the strap and the paddle and the crop and others and I can feel each of them there as if it's burning. Wondering which he'll pick. Thinking of each especial sort of pain on each part of my body. The paddle is a cold, hard slap that wants to knock me over. The cane is a vicious, electric crack that wants to slice through me. I think of other, stranger tortures, and then I see his shadow from the hall. 

He enters with the top button of his shirt undone, but otherwise immaculate. He has in his hand a small white envelope, unsealed, and this he places on the shelf before he comes to me. When he is turned sideways, I see the desk scissors in his back trouser pocket. Stands square in front of me, shakes his handkerchief from his pocket. He uses it to cover his left hand. He doesn't like to touch me directly, certainly not my skin. Skin is disgusting, and mine is especially so. 

First, he opens the shackles and removes the bar. My arms drop useless. I don't mean to gasp, but I do.

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't speak."

"Sorry, s-" I begin, but he slaps my face. Once, hard, sharp, the sound but not the sting lost in the handkerchief. 

"Stupid Bitch."

He lowers himself onto one knee. With his covered hand, he holds my ankle, and with the other removes my shoe, casts it quickly down from him. The same with the other shoe. Then stands and undoes the buttons of my dress, drags it sharply down off my shoulders and lets it fall. I step obediently out of it and he bats it flying away across the carpet. I will not cry. My breath catches as if I might and for a moment there is perfect silence, perfect stillness except that his head flicks up and his eyes search mine for any trace of a tear. After a moment, he goes back to work. 

It's difficult for him to undo my bra with the covered hand. I arch my back, tuck in my shoulder blades trying to help, but he orders me to maintain my posture. When it eventually snaps away I fight the urge to pull my arms in, trying to hold it on. It's just that as soon as my breasts are exposed I feel cold, feel open and ashamed. I feel his breath against them as he stands just a second longer than usual in front of me, just a half-step closer, as his covered hand hovers just centimetres from one.

I pray, hope, fight with myself, please God, don't let me get wet. But he draws away and doesn't touch me and I can't help it. Choke another sob, feeling my pussy open, my panties start to cling and there's nowhere to hide. I have to look away from him, just for a second, and he knows, knows everything, knows what I've done and what I am. He begins, very slowly, to kneel and says, "Are you bad, Bitch?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me so."

"I'm bad, sir. I'm a horrible Bitch."

He stops at a crouch, his nose just inches from my damp crotch. My body can't take it and betrays me again. My underwear floods. He's too close not to notice and grabs out, snatching my panties down against the tops of my stockings, shouting, "And do you think this is acceptable behaviour, Bitch?"

"No, sir."

"Who told you your cunt was in charge?!"

"Nobody, sir. It's not, sir. You are, sir."

"Say that again."

"You are, sir. You're in charge." He pushes off the dressing stool and stands back from me. He looks me over like road kill and he's right. I'm a vile, fetid thing and all I ever do is give him reasons to hate me. I feel disgusting and every tight, sore pulse of my aching hole makes me wetter and makes me feel worse. It seizes over and over, sucking as though it can imagine a cock all by itself. I can feel it pulling, know he must see me twitching and I say, "I'm sorry, sir. You're in charge. I'm just bad sometimes, sir, I'm just weak. You're in charge."

Glaring at my throbbing pussy, he shakes his head. "See, you say that, but I don't think you mean it. I think I need to teach you again a little lesson about respect. Let's go over it, shall we?" And now he takes the glittering scissors from his back pocket. With one finger wrapped in his handkerchief, he hooks up strap of my suspenders on the right. The blades part easily, silently, and I feel only the fine back edge as he slips the vicious edges over the silk. "Who are you?"

"Bitch, sir."

The scissors close. The strap snaps back on itself. With the tip of the scissors he rolls the stocking down to my toe and tosses it away. In the same way, he hooks up the left strap and says, "And what are you?"

"Nothing, sir. I'm rank and worthless, sir."

"You're worse than an animal."

"I'm worse than an animal, sir."

The blades close again and he bares my other leg. But he doesn't throw the stocking away. He lays it carefully over the edge of the dressing stool. Now he slides his blades beneath the belt, "Who am I, Bitch?"

"You're my only benefactor, sir. You want to help me be a better person. You help me every day, sir, and you correct me when I'm bad."

"I punish you so that you can learn."

"Yes, sir."

He stands closer to me again. My cunt starts pounding again, working so hard that his breath feels cold in all the juice. I try to look away again, but he brings my face back around with the handle of the scissors. I'm supposed to watch as he parts the blades one more time. Slides the right leg of my panties right up into the crux. He has to tug and pull to keep the material taught, slowly hacking and sawing and saying to me, "And how do you think I feel, to go to all this trouble for you with no reward, when you don't even learn anything? Last week's lapse and now this?" The right leg snaps away and he takes up the left. "I might almost thing you were irredeemable, Bitch. I might start to think you were just a born whore. Do you want somebody inside you, right now?" My throat closes but my cunt opens. I can't answer him but my body tells him all he needs to know. "Say it. Do you want somebody to take you, right now, to throw you down on the floor and fuck you rigid? Do you want somebody licking your nipples and fingering your pretty clit? Do you want his tongue up your tight little ass? Do you want his dick halfway down your throat?"

I moan. It's out before I can stop it and I can't help it. When he looks up at my I'm biting my lip and my chest is heaving? I want all of that. I want hands all over my body. I want the weight of somebody lying on top of me and the heat of them pushing into me over and over. I want to scream. 

All I do is moan and immediately cover my mouth.

"I thought so, Bitch."

"I'm sorry, sir."

He shakes his head. Disappointed with me, disgusted. I haven't changed a bit, he's thinking, and the instruments on the wall behind me start to burn again. The rope will grind, won't do much more than burn at the time, but the pain of it lasts for days afterward. The blindfold will keep out the world, and when you don't know what's coming, you can't prepare for it. 

Then the strangest thing happens. He goes to my bed, lays out his handkerchief square and begins to fold it back up. Tucks it away again into his pocket. Next, he gets the unsealed envelope from the shelf and brings it over to me, holding it up with the flap lifted. "Lick," he orders. "And don't get any ideas." I stick out my tongue and do as he asks. His fingertips are right there, almost too close to miss, but I can't. It could be an accident, but he won't allow that, and I'm in enough trouble already. But my lips are wet and his fingertips are right there. My pussy gives one massive, desperate drag, begging me to give up this much at least, just the tiniest, slightest taste of his skin, but it's too late. The envelope has been taken away, and he is smoothing down the flap. Long, elegant motions. He has such beautiful hands, and I would wash them clean with my tears if only he would just once defile them with me.

He put his handkerchief away, though. He's unprotected. And while I know all that means is that he'll go and get some gloves, or simply that he intends to hold nothing more than the grip of a riding crop in that hand, my mind races, daring to wander even now that he's taking such pains to teach me a lesson. 

He comes back. Takes up the scissors again. Uses them to lift the stocking he laid out so carefully before, and lifts it up to me.

"What is this?"

"It's my stocking, sir. You gave it to me and I'm very grateful."

"No, Bitch, no you're not."

"I am, sir, I'm grateful for everything that you-"

"No, you're not, Bitch. I give you beautiful things and you just go and soil them." It's then I see what he means. The toe is dark, spotted with miniscule coffee stains from the living room, from before. "You don't take care of your things." He balls it up then, and tries to mop up the dripping mess between my legs. All it does is make the problem worse and the stocking sticky, makes my body shudder and my eyes flutter shut. I've lingered so long and my cunt has done so much of the hard work for itself that this is nearly enough. Not quite though. He sees it coming and gives up. Presents to me the sullied, gleaming rag. 

I won't cry. I only meant to do my best for him, I didn't think of my stockings. And I know it's important to him to have me perfect at all times so I should have thought of my stockings, but I only meant to do my best, and I won't cry. I just won't. 

He says, simply, unequivocally, "Open your mouth."

And what choice have I but to do it? I lower my jaw as far as I can, tuck back my tongue so it won't have the chance to be bad. Carefully, too close to me and my wet insides for his own comfort, he begins to fill my mouth with still warm seamed silk. I won't close my mouth on those two fingers. My body might want that more than anything, but we have established that my body is bad. I won't close my mouth and grab his hand at the wrist and hold onto him when he protests, when he slaps me, when he reaches over my head and grabs the cane to beat me way. Not until he relents. Not until he gives me something better than two fingers. 

Just at the very end, he leans that millimetre too close. It's not even a second's contact, but my nipple, stiff to the point of pain from languishing so long untouched, catches against his shirt, and he pulls sharply away. 

After that he doesn't say anything. He goes to the dressing room and fetches out bad things. The short belted coat. The high black boots. 

He dresses me in these and only these. Then goes to my dresser and fetches the eyeliner pencil. Uncaps it. Orders me to tilt my face to the light. He works it, not around my eyes, but across my forehead. Every nerve in my body is by now so desperate for stimulus that the letters are as clear to me as if I could see them written down. The delicate, sensual curve of an S, the sharp right angle of an L, a wide, looping A and the tail of a G hanging limply by my eye. 

SLAG.

Then he puts the sealed envelope into my hand. I see now it's ready, already stamped and addressed. 

"Now, Bitch," he says, escorting me to the apartment door, "go downstairs, and across the lobby. Go out in the street, and up to the box at the corner and post it. When you come back I'll be in the office. Don't disturb me. Go immediately to bed, no supper. Sleep on your stomach. Keep your hands where I can see them."

I can only nod.

"Answer me, Bitch."

My stocking tastes like my cunt and his fingers. Cool beneath the coat, visible to anyone two stairs below me, my pussy rages worse than ever. And the doorman downstairs and the people in the street will look at me, bearing his verdict on my forehead. They'll know he's right. They'll smell me, stare at me. As I walk down the street, in their minds, they'll have me on a dozen different beds, in the back seats of cars, right there on the pavement. One will pound me up against the post-box. And I will say nothing. I won't moan. My mouth is full. My mouth tastes like heaven, and until my whole world tastes just the same, I won't say a word.

Stocking Feet



This story was inspired by, what started as a true incident, but developed into a fantasy. It was written for my own benefit, a sort of catharsis of my inner turmoil, and frustration, and for my fellow aficionados who can understand and empathize with my feelings and desires. Also, for any ladies, (or gentlemen), who would care to share their feelings or hidden desires on this subject. All communications will be held in the strictest confidence.

I had just left the checkout at the supermarket, and headed for the exit, which would take me past the office. Then I saw her. She was standing along side a desk outside the office. I immediately saw that she wore pantyhose and the flimsiest 'slipper type' shoes. I could tell at first glance that if she took a step, her shoe would flop off exposing the bottom of her foot.

My heart raced. As I approached her I kept staring at her feet. I could plainly see the arch of her foot in the shallow slipper.

Just behind her, next to the desk, was a rack of pamphlets; I stopped to get another look, and picked up a pamphlet. I studied her feet from behind. The heel of her shoe did not even cover the heel of her foot.

She had a case with her. She must be some sort of a sales person, I thought, waiting for a clerk to escort her to a particular department. I was determined to wait until she started walking so I could glimpse the bottoms of her stocking feet as she walked (my lifelong unbridled passion).

I must have read the pamphlet three or four times, and still no one came for her. I was afraid someone would get suspicious about me standing there so long, so I left the store with my purchase, took it to the car, tossed it into the trunk, and went back into the store.

I meandered around the isles adjacent to the office where the young lady was waiting. I inspected a number of items, all the time keeping an eye out, so I wouldn't loose her.

Eventually, another young lady, wearing a store smock, approached her, and they headed toward the exit together. On the way, the first young lady started pushing a shopping cart that contained what appeared to be a box of files. Instead of exiting the store, they veered around toward the food court!

Eurika! Just as I hoped, they sat at a table. I quickly went over and purchased a cup of coffee. There was no one else in the food court, so I had my pick of tables. I sat at a table to the side of my 'prey', and a little behind giving me a clear unobstructed view her feet.

At first she just sat with her feet on the floor talking to the store girl. Then she fixed herself more comfortably in the chair, moved her feet under the chair, popping her shoes exposing the bottoms of her feet!

Oh, oh, oh, ...I was in nylon heaven. My heart raced again. You must understand this is what I live for! And these days it is so rare that I get such a treat. I sat drinking my coffee, talking on my cell phone to "no one", going through a note book that I carry, all the while devouring the eye candy before me.

This must have gone on for a half-hour, at least. She would change the position of her feet under the chair, giving me a variety of views of her lovely stocking feet.

As I sat there observing, I conjectured that, being a sales person, she was probably from out of town, and most likely staying at a local hotel. So I started formulating my plan. I rehearsed my lines to myself over and over so as not to come across as a bumbling idiot.

Finally the store girl got up and left. I mustered up all the courage I could find, went over to her and said, "Excuse me. I hope you won't be offended if I thank you for your stocking feet."

"My socking feet?" She asked.

"I apologize, I have sort of a fetish for stocking feet, and I was sitting over there and couldn't help notice and admire yours, and it's so rare to see a lady wearing pantyhose these days I just wanted to express my appreciation." I said.

"I don't know what to say." She said

"You don't have to say anything. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. You must think I'm some kind of weirdo or something, but I'm really not. I'm just a regular guy who has this secret fetish, which absolutely no one knows about...again I'm really sorry to have embarrassed you." I said.

I started to leave, and she said, "Wait, would you like to sit down? I'm kind of intrigued by your story, and you don't look like a weirdo to me. I have a gut feeling that you're pretty safe, can you reassure me?"

"I can show you my drivers license." I pulled out my wallet and showed it to her. "That's me, Freddie Costello." I said. "I have several credit cards, there's my Lifetime VFW card, My Elks membership card. I own my own home, am an upstanding member of the community, and I have a dog!"

She laughed. "That did it. Anyone who has a dog has got to be a good person. I think we can be friends."

"Wonderful!" I said. "And thank you. I really feel honored."

"Honored?" She said. "Why should you feel honored, you don't even know me?"

"I think anyone who accepts a well meaning stranger on good faith is honorable." I said.

"Why thank you Freddie. My name is Kathy Freer, now we aren't strangers anymore." As she reached to shake my hand.

"My pleasure Kathy." I said.

"Would you like to see my ID?" she laughed. "That was very sweet of you to reassure me like that Freddie, and I really appreciate it." With that she pushed her chair back and crossed her leg toward me and dangled her shoe. "Is that what you like to see?"

"Oh, yes!" I said. "And you have very lovely feet, I might add. I studied them from back there."

"Thank you." She said. "That may be one of my best features."

"Not at all." I said. "I did notice that you are a very pretty Girl as well."

"Now, what is it you like. My foot, the pantyhose or both?" She asked.

"Usually a bare foot does nothing for me; and just a stocking does nothing, but a stocking on a foot is a real turn-on!" I said.

"Does just looking at it satisfy you?" She asked.

"On one level." I said. "Feeling it, of course takes it to another level, but the ultimate is to see a Lady play with her feet and shoes."

"Oh, I play with my shoes all the time, and rub my feet together..." She said.

"I thought so." I said. "Observing you in your pantyhose, which is rare today, and those skimpy shoes, I thought to myself, 'she must enjoy her stocking feet'."

"I do." She said. "I love the way it feels to walk with my shoes flopping off, and the feel of my stocking feet rubbing together. I never admitted this to anyone including myself. You really made me conscious of something that I just took for granted."

"Do you like foot rubs?" I asked.

"I adore a foot rub." She said. "But I never have anyone to give me one.

"Perhaps we can remedy that." I said. "May I treat you to dinner tonight?"

"Freddie, you've got a date." She said. "I'm starving and I don't know the first thing about this city. I'll be through her about 6:00. I'll wait right here."

"Great. I'll just run home, let my dog out, and meet you back here then." I said.

                         Six O'clock

I returned to the supermarket, went to the food court, and Kathy was sitting at a table with her legs crossed, and her shoe dangling from her toes. "Is that for me:" I asked.

"Yeah, and for me too." She said.

"Very nice, thank you." I said

"Where are you taking me?" She asked.

"Do you want to leave your car here and pick it up later?" I asked.

"That sounds like a good idea." She said.

"Great." I said. I offered her my arm, and we walked out to my car.

The restaurant was a very nice place, dimly lit and cozy. Kathy asked the Hostess for a corner table. As we perused out menus, I felt a stocking foot rub my leg under my pants.

I sucked my breath in through my teeth, and closed my eyes at the same time. "Kathy, you are an angle." I said.

She giggled and said, "I think I can have a lot of fun with you."

"I know you can." I said.

Then she put her foot on my knee and asked, "Can I get one of those foot rubs?"

I reached under the table, took her foot in my hands, and proceeded to caress and rub her socking foot.

She laid her head back, closed her eyes, and whispered, "This is heavenly."

"I'll say." I added.

"I hope I can find a husband like you." She said.

"Just make sure the guy has a stocking foot fetish." I said.

"I didn't catch your birth date on your license, do you mind telling me how old you are?" She asked.

"Seventy two." I said.

"Oh Freddie." She said. "You could have said sixty, and I would have believed you."

"Thank you." I said. "Will you marry me then?"

"I think we should find out if we're compatible first...don't you?" She said, staring at me without blinking.

"Oh my god." I said. "You just made me an offer I can't refuse."

"Well...you've really turned me on with your foot rubs and confessions...and your charm. Your vibes have tickled me in all the right places." She said. "Have you ever been married?"

"My wife passed away a year and a half ago." I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She said. "Did she know about your fetish?"

"She knew about my fetish right after we started dating. Back then it was stockings and garter belts, and she wore them for me every day. The first five years of our marriage was nylon heaven for me; she wore them day and night. She liked to have me rub and tickle her feet to put her to sleep!" I said.

I continued, "Then when our first daughter started talking and observing, we had to alter out habits. After that she only wore them when we had sex."

"Isn't that difficult, sex with pantyhose?" She asked.

"You can buy crotch-less pantyhose from a number of outlets, or an alternative is stockings and garter belt, but our favorite was "L'eggs Sheer Energy" with reinforced toes; they have a cotton panel that can be cut out without ruining the hose! And there are many other ways to have sex in pantyhose." I said.

"Wow!" She said. "You're really an expert on hosiery, aren't you?"

"Hosiery has been my driving passion ever since I was in the first grade, but that's another story I'll have to tell you sometime." I said.

"What say we go back to my hotel, and you can enlighten me further on the art of 'sex in pantyhose'?" She suggested.

"Hey that sounds like a good title for a story!" I said as I paid the bill and we prepared to leave. "I have to stop by my house for a minute to pick up a few things, then I'll drive you to your car, and follow you to your hotel."

"Sounds like a plan." She said.

We entered Kathy's hotel room, and she announced she was going to take a shower, and then 'slip into something comfortable'.

"Great." I said. "I'll shave while you shower, and then I'll take one." I brought a canvass bag with my electric razor, toothbrush, and some 'altered' pantyhose.

Kathy came out of the bathroom after blow-drying her hair. She wore an attractively patterned satin robe. She pointed to my bag and asked. "Do you have something in there for me?"

"I sure do." I said as I reached in the bag, and tossed her a pair of pantyhose.

"Do you have a pair for yourself?" She asked.

"I sure do." I said as I reached in the bag and pulled out another pair.

"Ooo." She mooned. "Very sensual." 

I took my turn in the shower. When I came out she was sitting on the edge of the bed. "I thought you might like to see this so I waited for you." She slipped her foot into the hose slowly pulling it over her toes, up her instep, over her heel, and over her ankle. Lifting her leg out straight, she pulled the hose up to an over her knee. She repeated the procedure with her other leg, pausing to ask. "You like these reinforced toes, huh?"

"Oh Yeah." I said. "That's another story I'll have to tell you sometime. Thank you for that lovely show."

"My pleasure." She said as she tugged the rest of the pantyhose up to her waist. "Wow, these really do expose everything don't they?"

I struggled with my hose, rolling around on the bed, trying to keep my balance, sending Kathy into a fit of laughter. "I don't know how you ladies do this, but it's a real challenge for me."

"Ooh." She sighed, regaining her composure. "That's got to be the funniest thing I ever saw. I'll have to video tape that sometime."

"Do you realize, I haven't even touched you yet?" I said, as we sat along side of each other on the edge of the bed.

"I know." She said. "You've been a perfect gentleman."

"May I kiss you?" I asked.

"Please do." She replied.

And so we kissed, Just a kiss, for a long time. I love to neck, and I could tell she enjoyed it too. Then our lips started moving, and they parted. Then our tongues touched, slid over each other's, and into each other's mouth. We lay back onto the bed, still necking.

I broke our kiss momentarily to ask. "May I fondle your breasts?"

"Please do." She replied in a breathy vioce.

I slipped my hand into her robe, and fondled her breasts as we kissed. I squeezed each perfect breast in my hand, and tweaked her nipples.

"May I help you off with your robe?" I asked.

"Please do." She said.

I helped her slide off her robe, and tossed it onto the chair. She lay on the bed in just her pantyhose.

"May I give you the Freddie treatment?" I asked.

"I can't wait." She replied.

I lifted her legs, and buried my face in the soles of her feet. I kissed her soles up and down, and licked them up and down. I kissed her toes, and sucked on them. I gently set her feet down on the bed. Then I slowly massaged her nylon sheathed legs up and down, parting them as I advanced, all the while eliciting soft moans from Kathy.

As I reached her 'honey pot', I could feel the heat radiating from it. I kissed the inside of her thighs. I licked the slick shaved skin on either side of her mons, lightly kissing her vulva in between each lick.

I moved up to her pelvic region kissing and licking the whole area closer and closer to her clitoris. I kissed around the outside of her clitoris, occasionally stabbing it lightly with my tongue. Kathy was starting to squirm.

I dropped down to her vulva, slid my tongue in between her lips, and slowly licked up and down. I teased her vagina with my tongue, and licked my way back up to her clit. I placed my mouth over her clit and slowly patted it with my tongue.

Kathy was really beginning to get worked up now. She started moving her hips in earnest, humping her clit into my mouth. I started wagging my tongue against her clit, faster, and faster. She was working into a frenzy, and I could tell she was close to an orgasm. I kept wagging my tongue against her clit, and Wham! She lifted her ass right off the bed, arching her back! 

"Ohhhhhh, Ahhhhhhhh, ngngngngn. Oh, Freddie, oh god!" She cried. "Oh god. Ohhhh." Struggling to catch her breath, she was rubbing her hands over my head, and rubbing her feet up and down my own pantyhose legs. "Freddie... that was truly the most powerful and amazing orgasm I have ever had. Come up her so I can kiss you."

I slid up her body, and planted my mouth on hers. Our tongues duled in a frenzy of passion. My stiff dick was at her wet place, and slid in with ease. We slowly ground and pumped together. She put her legs up on my shoulders, and rubbed her feet together behind my head, driving me crazy.

"Do you like that?" She breathlessly whispered.

"I love it, I love it." I whispered back.

We slowly fucked, savoring the delicious feeling. "You can massage your clit if you want to," I said.

"I don't think I have to." She said. "You did such a good job on it I've been on the verge of coming again ever since; and I think I'm ready now. Are you?"

"Yeah, I think I'm ready." I said.

We increased our speed rapidly approaching climax.

"Oh kathy, ahahahah, mmmph." I shot my wad into her belly.

"Oh Freddie, ahahahah, oooooooh, ngngngng. Oh god."

As our climaxes subsided, we just lay there until I just couldn't hold myself up any longer. My limp dick slid out of her, so I rolled over, and lay along side her. We kissed, and cuddled, and fell asleep in each other's arms; slowly sliding our feet up and down each other's legs.

To be continued.



Stocking Feet



Looking at the clock Jonathan realized he had to get changed back into his own clothes before his mother got home. His door was ajar so he could hear her arrival and he knew that could be any minute. He cut it as fine as he could each time but however exciting the prospect of getting caught he knew it would cause all sorts of problems.

Slowly, sensuously, he undid the suspender belt fastenings and began to roll the almost sheer black stockings with the lacy tops down his legs. He loved the feel of them against his skin and, even though he had only just cum, he felt his cock stirring into life once again.

"Fuck, feel's so good, mummy, to wear your panties and stockings, makes me so big and hard."

He removed the second one and then folded them together before placing them at the back of his drawer. The suspender belt and cum stained thong panties soon joined them and he hurriedly used some of his own underwear to hide the evidence. As he did so he heard a sound.

"Jonathan, I'm home, come and help with the groceries."

"Sure, mum, won't be a minute." 

Again he had come almost too close. He really would have to be more careful. Pulling on his jeans and the nearest crumpled t-shirt Jonathan went out into the hallway and quickly down the stairs. His mother was just putting the first of the plastic carrier bags down in the hallway as he arrived. He picked one straight back up; using it to cover the hardness he still sported which was never helped by the sight of his sexy mother in her short skirts and tight tops.

"Won't be a minute, I'll just get the rest. If you put them in the kitchen I can finish from there."

He wasn't able to reply, she was already gone, and so he did as he was told glad of the few minutes to calm himself.

~*~

The spaghetti bolognaise on his plate steamed appetizingly and smelled wonderful. Jonathan lifted the first forkful towards his lips just as his mother began to speak.

"I had been outside your bedroom door for ten minutes before I called you, Jonathan."

For a moment he didn't understand what she meant but then, as realization set in, the fork fell to the table and he looked up into her deep brown eyes, unable to read the messages there.

"I ... uh ... I, excuse me."

He stood up, turned and left the small kitchen without another word, his heart beating a mile a minute as he headed towards the stairs and the sanctuary of his own room.

"Jonathan, let me in, sweetheart, we need to talk about this."

"No, go away. Just leave me alone." He could hear the tremor in his voice and was angry with himself for showing a weakness.

"I can't do that, we need to talk."

The door opened slowly and then she walked across to where he was lying. He hadn't moved since he'd flung himself down and tried to ignore her presence next to him.

"You want to tell me why you were wearing my stuff?" There was a warm hand on his shoulder and his mother's voice was soft, calm, not at all the hysterical screech he'd expected. Looking up he saw only love in her eyes and nodded.

"I, uh, I just like the feel of it. It's nice against my skin."

"And that's it?"

He nodded, not about to admit to anything else.

"So, when you said it made you big and hard, you weren't telling the truth?"

"Oh, god." The words were more a moan than anything else and he tried to move away but the hand on his shoulder rested a little heavier and he remained where he was.

"What do you think about when you're wearing my lingerie?" His mother had sat down on the chair he kept next to his bed and he tried not to make eye contact with her.

"Nothin'. I don't want to talk about it."

"Ok, well, I'm not going to forbid you to wear it, or tell you how disgusted or disappointed I am because that won't help. When you are ready to talk about it, I'll listen, until then, well, I guess maybe you should think about keeping your door shut."

His mum got to her feet and moved towards the door, and he realized he didn't want her to go.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?" She stopped, her hand on the doorknob and turned.

"Disgusted and disappointed."

A smiled crossed her face and she shook her head before looking towards the end of the bed.

"Can I?"

"What? Oh, yeah, no problem." Jonathan watched as she sat down pulling her legs up beneath her and then she sighed.

"I'll admit to being a little confused but what you do in the privacy of your own room is up to you. As long as you aren't starting fires or torturing small animals I have to let you experiment, find out who you are, don't I?"

"That's what you think this is? An experiment?"

"I have no idea how long you have been wearing my underwear, or how long it's been turning you on. It's not something every young man does, but then I'm sure you already know that."

"It ... I ... I always loved the feel of your stockings when I was little, I loved to run my hands up and down them."

"Yes, I remember that." Her smile had grown wistful and for a moment the room was silent.

"It sort of grew from there. I found a pair of your stockings you were throwing away, there was a run in one of them and I took them from the bin. I kept them for ages and then you asked me to put some washing in the tumble dryer and I found another pair ..." His voice trailed off and Jonathan felt a blush suffuse his face.

"And?"

His mother wasn't making it easy for him but somehow, talking to her about what he had done was almost as exciting as wearing her things and he felt his cock begin to stir in his own boring, ordinary shorts. He shuffled around on the bed until he was sitting with his knees up against his chest, his arms around them. His burgeoning erection now hidden and he took a deep breath before speaking again.

"And there was a pair of black lacy panties too. I took them as well."

"Were they what you were wearing today?"

He nodded and then watched as she got up from the bed, smoothed down her skirt and began to walk towards the door again.

"Like I said, I'm not going to stop you from doing what you're doing, but I do expect you to keep it to yourself. If you want to talk to anyone about it I suggest it should probably be me."

She turned back, kissed him gently on the forehead and then left the room and Jonathan slumped back down onto the pillow not really believing what had just happened.

~*~

For the next fortnight Jonathan wondered whether his mother's lingerie by itself would ever hold the same allure for him. He put it on, tried to get off in the way he always had, but couldn't. Finally, after two weeks of trying to ignore what else it was he now needed Jonathan pulled the beautiful items on, lay on the bed and closed his eyes. He was still cumming at least once every day but his fantasy had evolved, moved on and with a groan he let his imagination take flight again.

It always started with his mother calling out from the front hallway for him to do an errand. He would hear his voice, husky and breathless, as he tried, unsuccessfully, to cover up his shame but before he can even get to his own clothes she is there, standing in the doorway, looking at him.

"What did I say about keeping your door closed, young man?"

"I'm sorry, mum, I ... I thought you would be longer."

"Really? I didn't think you'd be as long as you are, what is that, eight inches?" 

He looks down to see the head of his cock jutting out from the waistband of his mother's black panties and then her hand is on him.

"You fill that little thong so much better than I ever have, baby, but it looks like it need some air."

Her hand slips in from the side and grasps his hot cock. Slowly she pulls it out and runs her fingers up and down the length.

"What a beautiful dick you have. No wonder you want it encased in such sexy lingerie."

"Just your sexy lingerie, mummy, I want to be yours, to be held, caressed, loved by you while I wear these clothes."

He steps closer to his mother, his breathing getting heavier the faster she moves her hand. For one sweet moment their lips touch and then his mother gets onto her knees in front of him and takes his cock into her mouth. Looking up at him she begins to lick at the head before gradually taking its entire length into her mouth. Her fingers play with his balls through the lace, driving him crazy and he pushes her head down until he can feel the heat of her breath in his pelt of pubic fur. 

Again and again his mother moves against him, sometimes just sucking the tip and others taking the whole of him in and then humming against the head. He grasps her hair, holding her in place while he fucks her mouth, pushing hard against the back of her throat as she continues to run her fingers across his panties. 

"Gonna cum, mummy, if you keep that up, don't stop, mummy, please, gonna cum in your mouth. Ohhhhhh, fuck."

His body jerked as his spunk filled his sexy lingerie. Spurt after spurt was almost instantly soaked up before he collapsed backwards, the blood pounding through his body as he recovered from his most exciting fantasy yet.

~*~

"Can I talk to you?"

"Sure, sweetheart, what about?"

"You said if I needed to talk about ... about things, it should be with you." Jonathan saw enlightenment on his mother's face and waited for her reply.

"Ok, shall we move into the lounge?"

He shook his head and tried a smile.

"My room? I need to talk to you there."

Without a word his mother got up and headed for the stairs. He followed along behind, watching as her stocking encased legs moved sensuously in front of him. His cock, hard already at the thought of his mother being back in his room, pressed against the zip of his jeans and he relished the sensations.

"Ok, let's make ourselves comfy shall we?" 

His mother lay with her back up against his headboard; legs crossed at the ankles, feet still in the high patent leather pumps she had worn for work.

"Sit next to me that way we can have a cuddle while we chat."

He nodded mutely and snuggled up next to her. It seemed years since they had been so close and he greedily drank in the scent of her perfume, the way her skirt was taut across her thighs, her shirt across her breasts.

"You are beautiful, mum, so beautiful."

"Thank you, sweetheart. Shame no one else seems to think so. Now, talk, I want to help if I can."

Jonathan remained silent for a moment or two. He hadn't really thought about it but his mother hadn't been on a date for a long while. How no one could see what he could was beyond him but possessively he was secretly glad she was unattached.

"I'm still wearing your panties, I ... I have them on right now, under my jeans. But my fantasies, they have moved on since we spoke. I want more than just your lingerie."

"What do you want, sweetheart? You know I'll help you if I can. I love you."

"I know, and I love you, but not in the way I should."

"Oh!" His mother looked away for a minute and he listened to the silence. It wasn't as quiet as he imagined. He could hear at least two clocks ticking, various birds outside his window and the dog from down the street was barking again. Most of all though he could hear his heart and he concentrated on that, fearful it might stop if he didn't.

"What you mean is you think you love me in a sexual way?" Her finger was under his chin now and he looked into her deep brown eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, I ... when I ... well when I'm ... I think of you, here with me, helping me." He was suddenly burning; his face, he knew, was beet red and to his horror he felt tears prick his eyes.

"It should be a girlfriend you're thinking about, not me, Jonathan. You know this isn't right."

"I don't want a girlfriend, well, not unless it's you. Teach me, mummy, show me what you like, let me do the same."

He reached up and placed his hand in her hair before drawing her towards him. Their lips met and slowly, gently, he kissed her.

"If you don't feel anything I'll stop, but I won't stop imagining you with me. I can't do that."

"But this is so wrong, Jonathan."

"Does it feel wrong? Nobody but us ever has to know." He leant forward again, capturing her lips with his own and then, as they kissed tenderly, he ran his tongue across the soft skin and was rewarded with a moan before being granted entry.

His mother pulled him closer, their bodies pressed together and Jonathan felt his cock strain against his panties even more.

"Please, take my jeans off, let me show you."

His mother nodded her head and without a word began to undo the buttons. As she slid them down his legs and off onto the floor he heard her gasp and he looked down, seeing his precum-soaked panties.

"I want to see you, please, mummy, take off the skirt and shirt. Let me look at your panties."

"Jonathan, why are you calling me mummy?"

He paused for a moment and then looked right at her.

"Because in my fantasies I always call you that. Make it real, just this once, please. Let me have something to remember, to think about when I cum without you here."

For a long moment his mother paused and Jonathan wondered if he had gone too far but then his mother nodded. A long red fingernail hooked into the top buttonhole and, wide eyed, Jonathan watched as gradually his mother was exposed to him.

The shirt was deep blue and beneath it was a black lacy bra, which only just contained her heaving breasts and hid her nipples.

"Oh yes." Unable to help himself Jonathan reached out and ran a finger across the twin globes. The skin was so soft and he leant forward burying his face in them, inhaling the wonderful scent and then looked up. "Now the skirt. Want to see more."

With an almost imperceptible nod his mother got to her feet and undid the clasp on the waistband of her skirt. The sound of the zip was quickly followed by a shooshing as the skirt slid down to pool around her ankles.

"Oh my god." His hand went to his now rampant cock. His mother was wearing the tiniest wispiest pair of panties he'd ever seen along with black shiny stockings and a suspender belt. Her hands moved to release a stocking and he called out. "No, please, leave them on. Come back to me just as you are."

In an instant he was holding her in his arms and kissing her face, her neck, her chest. His hands roved across her back and down to the firm cheeks of her arse. 

"God, mum, so sexy, wanna fuck you."

"Jonathan, no. We can't."

"Tell me you want me to stop and I'll think about it." His hands were tracing patterns across his mother's butt cheeks and he began to plant light, sensuous kisses across the top of her breasts. He felt her breathing deepen and saw her hand move down until she was rubbing at her clit through her panties.

"Should I stop?"

"No, damn you, Jonathan, you have me so horny. Even though I know it's wrong I still have to do this."

Roughly he pushed her back against the bed sheets before smiling down at her. He saw the bra had a front clasp and quickly undid it. Her heavy breasts fell from their restraints and he gazed at them for the first time.

"Want to suck them, can I suck them?"

"Oh yes, sweetheart, mummy loves to have her titties sucked." 

He needed no further invitation taking the nearest one into his mouth immediately. He heard his mother gasp and then he ran his fingers over her pussy, pushing into her through the nylon and fingering her.

"Ohhhh, yes, Jonathan, so good, fuck me, make mummy cum." His mother held his head against her chest and he suckled happily. He ran a foot up her leg feeling the soft stockings against his skin and pushed his cock against her hip.

"With this, mummy, let your baby put his big dick in you. Fill you with his seed."

"No, sweetheart, you can't do that, mummy could get pregnant."

Jonathan felt his cock surge as she spoke. He grasped it in his hand, wanking himself as he pictured his mother lying next to him, naked, with a big belly full of his child.

"What ... what if I pull out?" It wasn't ideal but he knew they would fuck again, would make love again, and then he would spill inside her tight cunt.

"I suppose so. Just be careful."

"You know I will. I love you, mummy, gonna fuck you now. Are you ready for my cock?"

"Let me suck it first, it's been so long since I've had a nice big dick in my mouth."

He lay back as she spoke and then, as he held his breath, his mother faced away from him, bent over, and took him in to the hilt.

"Ohhhh, god."

Clenching his fists and willing himself not to shoot his load down his mother's throat Jonathan watched. The deep red lipstick had left a stain on the base of his cock and he watched as it grew shiny with her saliva. 

Her breasts swung beneath her as she moved and, almost without thinking, Jonathan reached out to slap one of her butt cheeks, loving her gasp as the sound reverberated around the room.

Slowly his mother moved up and down his cock, then she moved quicker, her fingers teasing round his tight anus as she did so.

"Fuck, feels so good, mummy, let me ... my turn, before I cum, please." He tried to move away and his mother looked back at him. She nodded and then moved away from his cock. She kissed the tip and rolled his balls gently in her hand before moving up the bed to capture his lips. He could taste himself on her tongue and moaned in approval.

"Did you like what mummy did, sweetheart?" Her eyes were full of lust and her voice was husky. Unable to speak himself he could only nod before changing position so he was lying between her beautiful, silky soft thighs.

He took the soaking panties into his mouth, relishing her taste and scent. Once he had sucked all her juices from them he carefully pushed the flimsy material to one side and began to slowly lick back and forth across her pussy lips.

His mother's whole body seemed to lift from the bed and then her hands were in his hair, holding him in place. He began to suck on her soft skin, darting his tongue into her hole and then fucking her with it.

Gradually he realized she was leaking more and more of her love juice and then with a cry of his name her pussy was pushed against his face and she flooded his mouth with cum.

Over and over he swallowed as she climaxed and then, as her hands released their grip, he looked up.

"Still want me to stop?"

"God, no, fuck me, Jonathan, want to feel you inside mummy's cunt. Please."

He needed no further encouragement and moving up on to his knees he looked into her beautiful face.

"Get on your knees for me, mummy, want to fuck you from behind first."

The sight of her butt cheeks, suspenders tight across them was almost too much for him. He sank his face into her deep crease, licking her arse hole, pushing inside with his tongue while he rubbed a thumb against her clit.

"Ohh, Jonathan, yes, more, sweetheart, mummy wants so much more." 

For a minute or two he ignored her, moving her higher and higher with his mouth and fingers but then, unable to wait any longer he moved back, grasped his rock hard cock in his hand and guided towards her pussy.

Although it was as tight as he had imagined he slid in easily, his way already well lubricated. He held himself still, his hips firm against her butt and then reached down to play with her nipples.

"So sexy, mummy, I have the sexiest mummy in the whole world." He kissed her back and then began to move slowly inside her.

"Yes, fuck me, take me hard, Jonathan, let me feel all of you, ram my cunt."

"You love it, you bitch, don't you?"

"Yessss. That's what I am. Mummy is your bitch."

Her words spurred him on and he rammed himself into her hard. Again and again he pushed forwards, their skin slapping against each other as he moved both of them nearer and nearer to completion.

Grabbing her hair in his hand he pulled her head back using her to push himself even further in. Her moans joined his own and then, as he knew he was getting almost too close, he pulled out.




Stocking Feet



"Jonathan?"

"Turn, want to see your face when I cum. Want to see my mummy looking at me and playing with her tits as I cum. Can you do that, bitch?"

"Yes, yes, if you talk like that I can do anything."

She rolled over, splaying her legs and waiting for him to re-enter her, her gaze never once leaving his and he pushed forward again, plunging deeply into her in one thrust and then regaining the rhythm almost immediately.

"Gonna cum soon, mummy, you are going to make your baby boy cum. Does that turn you on, bitch?"

"Yes, you know it does, love my baby fucking me. 

Cum for me, make me cum too, Jonathan."

He didn't need any more encouragement. Pushing forward one last time he held tightly to her stocking clad thighs.

"Mummy, fuck, now, cumming now."

His spunk shot out, filling her pussy, pulse after pulse of seed gushing into her and as it did so he felt her tighten around him.

"Ohhhh, god, Jonathan, making me cum too, yes, baby, yes!"

~*~

Jonathan lay on his bed, his head on his mother's shoulder, his fingers drawing lazy patterns across her arm. She was fast asleep and carefully he lay a hand against her flat stomach and saw his seed glistening against her pubic pelt.

He really had intended to pull out, but now, as his sperm made their way up inside her the thought that he might have already made a baby was enough to get him hard again.

'Just wait,' his thoughts were lazy, almost everything was too much effort. 'Just wait, now you've cum inside her once the next time will be a breeze.'

He leant down to take a soft, relaxed nipple into his mouth, imagining it leaking milk, and then, closing his eyes he joined his mother in slumber, knowing their secret would bind them together forever. 



Stocking Fetish



This story is true and started in the early 1970s. It is a twisted story that involved my wife, my mother and my father-in-law. I thought I was pulling something over on my wife. I thought everything was initiated by me, but I was wrong, and ended up sucking off my father-in-law. Let me start by saying that I had and still have a major stocking fetish, and my mother-in-law used that to her advantage.

Since I was a little boy, I have been unable to resist a woman's legs and feet in suntan nylons. I am even more excited by the sight, feel, and scent of a woman's feet in stockings after she has worn them. So early on in my dating relationship with my future wife, she would put me totally under her control by letting me rub and kiss her stocking feet. She would hold her stocking feet up to my face knowing that the scent of her feet in her well worn nylons would result in me having an instant erection that would last almost as long as she let me kiss her feet and breathe in her scent.

My soon to be wife knew that I could not resist a woman with pretty feet if she wore nylons and had me kiss and worship her feet. I would have sex with her as often as I could, and in between time would secretly fantasize about kissing and inhaling the scent of her mother's feet in her nylons too. My fiancée (Linda) unknown to me would tell her mother most everything about our relationship. They would talk about their sex lives, and my mother (Dorothy) would listen to Linda's stories, then tell her daughter about what was missing in her sex life with my father-in-law Art.

Dorothy would tell Linda about the fact that her husband would never have oral sex with her. She in turn would not put her mouth on her husband's penis. So neither partner would perform oral sex on the other, yet both yearned to be on the receiving end of a talented oral partner. For months, Linda listened to her mother complain about how she had read her romantic novels that talked of such activities, but her husband would not consider it. While these same novels told of a woman taking her lover in her mouth, Dorothy could not bring herself to do it. Both were products of strict upbringing that considered anything outside of traditional missionary intercourse to be perverted. Yet, Dorothy wanted to feel the power of an orgasm provided in the same way describe in her novels.

Linda, feeling for her mother, told her that I was quite skilled at oral sex, and she thought that I would be a solution to her problem, but they were at a loss as how to broach the subject. Linda and Dorothy came up with the idea of me being seduced by my mother. Linda convinced her mom that if they could somehow get her mother's stocking feet under my nose, anything else was possible. So they arranged for me to go to my mother-in-laws house under the pretense of taking her to an event that Art would not be attending. Dorothy would act as if her feet were in dire need of a massage as a result of her shopping all day. The plan was set, and I was to pick up Dorothy, to take her to the event. Linda would already be there, so I was just giving her mom a ride.

I arrived at Dorothy's house at the predetermined time, and she offered me a gin and tonic, saying that she had been on her feet all day. She had showered, but was still wound up, and needed a drink to settle down before we left. According to the plan, Dorothy dangled her shoe off of her foot, rolling her ankle, and saying how she just needed to relax, and that her feet were killing her. Just as they suspected, I offered to help her and give her feet a massage. I knew that I wanted to hold touch, kiss and inhale the scent of Dorothy's stocking feet, but had no idea, that she knew all too well, that as soon as I touched her feet, the game was for all intent and purpose over. I sat on the other end of the sofa, and slipped off her shoes. She had been shopping all day, and had showered, but I did not know at the time, that she had put on the same pair of suntan Leggs Sheer Energy pantyhose (with reinforced toe). After several minutes of gently rubbing her feet, trying my best to hide the fact that I was enjoying the massage much more than she was, she apologized saying that she felt awful. The massage felt so good, but her feet must stink from being in her heels all day.

I gave my best acting job, saying that everything was fine, and that I could not tell that she had worn those pantyhose all day. She then sprung the trap, putting the underside of her foot up to my face, with my nose right at her reinforced toe. She laughingly said you mean you can't smell them. I told her I could but it was not an offensive odor. She then pressed her foot tighter to my face and asked if I was just saying that, or perhaps I enjoyed the strong fragrance. I was embarrassed to admit that I enjoyed the scent of her feet in those nylons, and told her that her daughter would do the very same thing to get me to do whatever she wanted. Dorothy then said, you mean if you smell my stocking feet, you will do whatever I want?

By now I was under her spell, and gently yet passionately held her feet to my face tenderly kissed them, and breathed in the fragrance of her stocking feet. I admitted that I had wanted to do that ever since I first met her. One thing led to another, and within ten minutes, I had my tongue in Dorothy's delicious and previously neglected pussy. After several orgasms, we made passionate love. I did not know at the time, that Linda and Dorothy had hatched the plot, and I was now frightened out of my mind that Linda would somehow find out. Dorothy assured me that it was our secret, and Linda would never find out, but also told me that she could not do without being brought to an orgasm by my tongue. For the next several months, every chance we got, Dorothy would have me kiss her feet in her well worn pantyhose, with me licking her pussy until she could not produce another delicious drop for me to drink. During this time, we gradually expanded our play to include her being introduced to sucking cock. I thought I was in heaven, kissing Dorothy's stocking feet, licking her pussy, and her sucking my cock. All the time, I was making sure that I serviced Linda so she would not become suspicious. Little did I know that Linda and her mom would talk about how she had no idea that giving and receiving oral sex could be so wonderful.

Everything was going according to the plan, which I thought was my plan. Little did I know I was a pawn in the whole scheme. Life as good, until my father over heard Dorothy talking to Linda on the phone. He was able to discern that his wife was having her pussy eaten by and was sucking the cock of her son-in-law. He did not know that his daughter was on the other end of the phone. He was out of his mind with rage, but did not want to hurt his daughter with the story of her husband's incestuous relationship with her mom.

So, one Saturday morning when Linda and her mom were out, Art stopped by to pay me a visit. He was calm and cool, when he confronted me with the facts. He knew that I was eating his wife, and she was sucking my cock. She had never done this to him in almost 30 years of marriage. He told me in no uncertain terms, that if I didn't want my wife to find out, I would stop seeing Dorothy, and start sucking his cock, to make up for years of doing without. My head was spinning, and I felt like I was going to vomit. It seemed like life as I knew it no longer existed. What choice did I have? While I was an unfaithful husband, I was as straight as an arrow, and putting a man's cock in my mouth was out of the question. He sneered and said the choice was mine. I could break his daughter's heart, or suck his cock. What could I do? So, I started down the road of sucking cock. He would stop by when my wife was not at home, and train me how to be a cock sucker. For the longest time, I hated the sound of his name, but within a few months, I began looking forward to feeling him pump the cum that made my wife down my throat.

For six months, I was now a cock sucker, and had stopped eating Dorothy, and more importantly to me, I was no longer able to inhale the scent of her stocking feet. It was difficult to come up with reasons why I could not service Dorothy, and eventually she told her daughter. Linda and her mom decided to tell me about their plan, and that I had Linda's blessing to orally service her mom. So one Saturday night while Linda was on her back with her stocking feet in my face, and my cock buried in her pussy, she brought up the subject of her mom. To say the least, my cock wilted as soon as she mentioned Dorothy's name. She told me the whole story, and told me that she knew that once her mom got me to kiss her feet, I was helpless. She seemed pleased with herself, knowing that my weakness was exploited by the two women with sexy legs and feet in suntan nylons.

I on the other hand was livid. I told her about her dad finding out, and making me suck his cock for months just so she would not find out. It took me some time to calm down. I was now a cock sucker, and no amount of rationalizing could change that fact. Now that I was fully aware of the entire story, I was able to make decisions for myself. I told her that I would gladly return to playing with Dorothy. I would also continue sucking Art. Linda had to promise that neither of her parents would ever find out the entire story. Art and Dorothy both died in an automobile crash in 1980. I continued to drink their cum until the very end.

Over the years, I admitted to myself that I was bi-sexual, and Linda would have to pay me back for the prank that backfired. We got into swinging, and I had Linda cuckold me at every opportunity. For the next 20 years, Linda continued to wear Leggs Sheer Energy pantyhose, have me kiss her feet in her well worn nylons, but she would also fuck the men I would bring home, then have me lick her freshly fucked pussy clean. 

When Linda passed away in 1996, I started looking for t-girls. I now consider myself gay, and only date shemales that wear nylons and want to feed me their cum.



Stocking Passion



I have always had an intense passion for stockings; garter belts and spiked high heels. I adorable wife of 11 years, Donna loved to cater to my passion for them and she always wore them when we made love. Donna is 5'1 inch 122 LB of pure passion. She has small breasts but legs and ass to die for. 

Donna had a very good friend who was also our neighbor. Her name is Karen. I had met her a number of times and she was a very attractive redhead. Since they were both housewives they spent a great deal of time together during the day and talked a great deal about everything including sex. 

One day the conversation turned to garter belt and stockings. Donna told Karen how much they turned me on and that we never had sex without her wearing them for me. Karen stated that she and her spouse were the same way with one exception that her spouse became very submissive when she wore black stockings. That he would sometimes make love to her feet and loved to cum on the stockinged feet. 

Karen also told my wife that they had had a few swinging experiences. Donna was fascinated with this concept and wanted to know all about the experiences. This conservation's when on for months but Donna never told me about any of them. Finally they decided to get Joe and me together for a session. Everyone knew about this but me.   Donna told me that we were going to get together and go out with Karen & Joe for drinks. My wife never wore a garter belt when we went out socially but this evening she wore a pair of 5 inch spiked blue sandals that I just adored her in. 

We were all going out together and I was very aroused looking at my wife in those heels. She let me stroke her legs while we waited for our neighbors to arrive. When the arrived, Karen was also dressed in a pair of 4 inch black pumps and black pantyhose. It was the first time that I had ever seen her in other than jeans and a sweatshirt. 

It forced me to think of her sexually for the first time. I had never met her husband Joe; he was a towering man of 6'4" and 200 LB. I found him to be a great guy. We went to a private club that they were members and had a wonderful time talking and dancing. The conservation after a few drinks turned to sex. It was casual and fun chat. 

They ladies excused themselves to go the ladies room and as they left the table, Joe told me how much he loved my wife's heels, it was hard not to like them the way her tight ass swayed as she moved away for the table. I agreed and told him that I only wish I could get her to wear a garterbelt and stockings rather than those boring pantyhose. 

This sparked Joe to tell me how sheer stockings turned him on and all of a sudden we had an instant report with each other. Our conversation continued only styles of stockings and lingerie that turned us on the most. We even kept it up after the girls returned and they began to join in. 

It was a rush to hear these two gorgeous women discuss our favorite subject. They even made a bit of fun at both of us at how easy we were sexually when they worn them. 

We began discussing adult movies that we found that we all enjoyed. I told him that I had quite a few Swedish Erotica tapes at home that featured sexy women who always wore black reinforced heel and toe nylons. 

Joe had never seen any of them and suggested that we all go back to watch some of them. I thought that this was a great idea. We all settled into my family room, I prepared another round of drinks and put on my favorite tape. It was a great video of Seka and another unknown actress with the famous John Holmes. 

This was the first time that we ever watched porn with anyone and it was a very erotic experience. I could see that my wife was getting very turned on and so was I. 

After about 20 minutes of watching the tape, Karen stated that she and Donna would look just as good as those women in stockings and garter belts. Then Joe chimed in why don't you prove it. It was a dare and the girls took us up on it. 

They both when up stairs to get some of Donna's outfits, I thought I would go crazy. When they came back they were both holding handfuls of lingerie and then they started to remove their clothes. They decided to dress each other and I could not keep my hands off my cock. 

Karen selected a white garter belt and fastened it around Donna's waist and as she sat in a chair across from us Karen slowly placed the black stockings on her legs and fastened them to her garters. Then she slipped her spiked heel sandals back on her feet. Donna then placed a black corset on Karen and proceeded to place black RH&T nylons on her and fastened them to her garters. 

There were no shoes that fit Karen so she stayed put her pumps back on. I hated seeing those sexy reinforced stockings hidden by the pumps but everything else looking incredible. 

They both stood in front of us and rubbed the hand all over their own bodies and spent a lot of the time stroking their stockings. Karen told us to remove our clothes and show them how excited we were looking at them. I broke my zipper getting my pants off. 

When Joe was naked my wife went crazy looking at his cock and I was just as impressed. He had the largest cock I had ever seen. It was almost 10 inches and thick as my wrist. My 6-inch was minuscule next to his and I have never had a harder cock then that night. 

Donna got down on her knees between Joe's legs and started to suck that monster cock. She was licking it and looking at me at the same time and asked me if I loved watching her suck another man's cock. I told her yes and I wanted her to make him cum all over her face and mouth, with that she started to suck him as if she was possessed. His cock was too large for her to get down on him deeply but seeing her work his head with her mouth was a sight I will never forget.

I got up and sat Karen on the sofa and began to lick her sweet pussy with my eyes never leaving my wife's cock sucking. I love to eat pussy. Nothing makes me happier than bring women to an intense orgasm with my mouth as I caress a silky stocking as I do it. 

It did not take very long for Karen to have her first orgasm with this entire action-taking place. Things were getting closer with my wife and Joe and I wanted to see him cum into her mouth. I told her to take it all and make him cum for me. I positioned Karen leg to his face to intensify the action. Donna's hand was gliding up and down his huge cock as her mouth continued to work that massive head. 

My eyes were fixed awaiting the climax. I watched as his ass rose off the sofa and his guttural moan let me know that he was filling my wife mouth with his load. She pumped and pumped his cock milking every drop from his body. When he finally relaxed, my wife looked at me and showed me his copious load of cum in her mouth. To this day, I do not know what possessed me but I pulled her face to mine and kissed her deeply sharing that cream with her. 

It was my first ever taste of cum but it would not be my last. 

It was my turn to put on a show for them. I began to fuck Karen slowly as our spouses watched. Her pussy was not as tight as my wife's for the obvious reasons but I was soon to know how I was to be used by her. 

Karen begged me to slip my hard cock up her ass. I had never had anal sex and I was a bit hesitant at first. She was so wet that my 6-inch cock slipped into her so easily. Karen pleasure was beyond description. She began bucking like a wild horse while playing with her clit, screaming for me to fuck her faster and harder. I gave her all that I had and before I knew it I was depositing a huge load of cum into her sweet ass.

After I had cum, Joe lay on the floor and Donna sat on his face and as he licked her he rubbed his hands all over her nylons. She was grinding her cunt onto his face and I could see that his monster cock was coming back to life. Joe brought Donna to orgasm and then pushed her down to enter her pussy. I could not wait to see that engorged cock sliding into my wife's wet pussy. 

She took it real slow and for a moment I did not think that she would be able to take him. She did take him all the way. She had never been filled with so much cock and I could see how much she loved it. Their rhythm increased and Joe rolled over into a missionary position so he could fully enjoy her stocking clad legs while her fucked her. 

Donna must have had 3 or 4 orgasms and the combination of her tight pussy and stockinged legs was too much for Joe to hold off and he filled her pussy with him cum. For the second time that evening, I had a desire to suck his cum out of her pussy. Her cunt was wide open for his large cock and my face was buried between her legs lick and sucking his cum out of her.

Karen sat on the sofa and spread her legs and told me to make her cum with my tongue, which I gladly obliged all the time stroking those silky nylon stockings. Karen wanted me to fuck her in the ass again. I pulled down onto the floor into the missionary position so I could also enjoy her nylons as I fucked her ass. It was a long slow session before I could hold back no longer, then shot my second load of cream into her ass.

As we were all resting, Karen told me how great that felt as she loved anal sex but Joe's cock was much too big for her to enjoy it. We all talked about swinging and they told us of a few of their experiences. Karen told me that she had even made love to a woman for Joe at one of their sessions. I looked at Donna and ask her if she could make love to Karen but she did not want to. 

Karen asked her if it was all right to just tease her and stroke her to get us hard again and she agreed. Karen proceeded to stroke her hair and back, and then she started to stroke her nylons and the tops of her thighs. Well needless to say Joe and I were ready again and we all made love again.

When they left around 4:00 A.M. Donna and I talked for a long time about the evening and how we each felt about it. We decided that we would do it again and went to sleep exhausted. 

We had many sessions with Karen and Joe over the next year and a half and they introduced us to other couples and we went to parties with up to six couples. It was a hell of an experience but with it brought many problems and in the end contributed a great deal to our divorce. 

Even with all that I have to say that I enjoyed the sex and still fantasize about that first night and a great many stories to follow with them and others.



Stocking Play



Prologue

You were always very caring, very curious, about what stockings I wore... for work, for play, out socialising and even just round the house. What colour, what denier, even what kind of top my hold-ups were... plain, or lacy. I'd guessed all guys fancied girls in naughtier than usual undies but if I had realised sooner you had an all-encompassing fetish for them then maybe I wouldn't have been so cautious, and just let you revel in them.

For that's what we're doing now, secreted away in a hotel room on one of your visits to the country. You said bring saucy undies, but were more exacting when it came to stockings. "Bring a whole range," you asked, no... almost demanded of me. "All sort of colours. I might like you to model them for me... "

Well, how could a girl refuse? I know, among the many things we'll do in London, sight-seeing and shopping, that we'll probably have a smooch, a snog, even sex... who cares if it's wrapped up in some extra naughtiness between us. It's that kind of friendship...

One

But on the first morning, bringing my case up to your room, you seem uncomfortable at me in jeans. "Haven't you got a skirt?" I shrug 'okay', as it's a nice day and I've had my legs waxed so no worries. I peel the jeans off, flip open the case and stand there, in panties and t-shirt, undecided as to which skirt. You set limits, as you watch me wiggle my freshly painted pinky-red toes. "Short-ish... to show your legs off, of course, and put some stockings on. Some nice new ones... "

I find a floaty, flowered transucent skirt, not too flirty but with a hint of daring to it, and ponder which stocking to go with it. You'd like dark, black if you had your way but tsk that's a fashion faux-pas... you don't wear dark stockings with a light skirt, if you can help it. I find a pair of sheer nude ones, with a plain top, gathering one up in my fingers before slipping it over my toes, and stand, one foot on the bed, before smoothing the sheer stretchy fabric up my leg, over the knee, and stretching the silicon top round my thigh, making sure they are perfect in the mirror before repeating with my other leg. Behind me, seen in the mirror, your expression is one of wonder, as if the simple act of putting them on is a miracle, like a revelation from God. 

And so we go sight-seeing and shopping... well, more shopping than sights, as it dawns on me that the hosiery section of stores are more a sight for you than Trafalgar Square, or the British Museum. Of course, myself, I'm a seasoned shopaholic, and I don't get to London much, and can revel in the fashions and boutiques. I just didn't expect, as a guy, that you would revel so much too. Only it's not just fashion... it's something much more particular, a sheer pleasure, that you want to share.

The hosiery section of one department store is almost as big as some shops back home. and I love to co-ordinate, have stockings that match each and every occasion. Different colours, shades and hues, even patterned and lacy ones. But London prices, despite the lovely styles, rainbow selection of colours and eye-opening patterns, are just beyond me, even as a treat. There's a wonderful black baroque patterned pair I eye for a long time before you decide you will buy them for me, if I make a point of wearing them tonight. Well okay! I nod eagerly... that's so very sweet of you. Then you ask what is the sheerest kind, one without reinforced toes, just 'a line' you call it. A seam, I correct you, and you mean sheer or sandal toe. I muse back and forth in the aisles of stockings, and finally find a brand that matches your description... 7 denier, that's the sheerest you'll get, and nude. I pick a pair, and your eyes say no. No, not nude? Mocha? A deep brown tan shade. Coffee? A deeper brown, I'm tempted by that rich hue... Your eyes point out a pair in the same range. Black, or 'noir' as they are French, it is then. That makes them even pricier than my 'treat' but as you say the only return on it is for me to wear them for you, I can but smile my thanks.

And so, spent by many hours wondering from shop to shop, me cherry-picking affordable fashions, you beside me, eyes lingering on more lingerie, we call it a day for dinner at the hotel. And yes I have my LBD... that's girl talk for 'little black dress'... which will show off the patterned stockings to perfection. But you would like the sheer ones, if that's okay. Well you paid for them, sweetness, I guess it's the least I can do to model for you. 

Dinner is a simple affair, on the balcony, by candlelight and with plenty of wine into the night. As the air cools, we retreat back into the apartment, let the hotel staff clear up, and lie, tipsy and giggly, on the bed, cuddling.

I lift my black stocking clad leg, my toes waving at you from under the sheer thin mesh, and look at you. "Do you like them? I ask, meaning my legs. "More so in those... " You reply, tentatively reaching out and caressing my knee. The brush of your hand through the tingly, feather-light nylon and lycra is almost electric. Sensually, your fingers trace a line up my thigh, to the stretchy silicon top. Normally a guy would go beyond, to the bare skin above before finding their desire in my panties. But instead they retrace their steps, finding pleasure in the second skin covering my legs.

Two

As you stroke my sheer-clad thigh, our lips meet and in no time at all we're enjoying a silly, smoochy, giggly wine-drenched snog on the bed. I hug you to me, cuddle you, while I'm all too aware that while one arm embraces me, the other hand stays on my thigh, savouring the touch of nylon.

I peel you off me. "This is all about the stockings, isn't it?" I sigh. I'm not that disappointed, but if you actually came out and said it, mebbe it would be fun for us both, instead of you hedging around the fact.

Shamefaced, you blush and nod. I hold your chin and lift your face so I can look you in the eyes. "It's okay," I say, "You know I love wearing stockings too, so if I wear and you look and touch, I say it's okay. Just... don't be so coy around it."

A smile breaks out on your face, relieved to be free of such a weighty confession. Now, knowing this, our fun can begin.

If stockings are what you like or love, then that's what I can bring. That, and a nice pair of pins to model them on... I hope! I kneel up on the bed and peel my dress off. Well, it's not like that is going to be appreciated is it? With no bra on, I'm just in panties, as sheer, stretchy and black as the stockings... feminine intuition told me you'd mebbe appreciate those instead. I take your hand and place it tween my thighs, close gently on it and wiggle my hips so you're caught, caressing the sheerness over my skin. Then I guide your fingers higher, letting them swirl over the stretchy nylon covering my most intimate, now softly damp and tantalisingly hot, of intimacies. My excitement soaks the fine mesh into a wet smoothness as I let your wonderment of the nylon, the lycra, arouse me further. Like static on synthetic fabric, the tender touches shoot sensual sparks up through me, and I begin to see why you find them so erotic.

I let your hand fall from me, and jump of the bed to get something from my case... a bag of assorted stockings I dump out on the sheets, letting your gaze and expression turn to joy, like a lil boy given free reign in a shop of sweets. All colours, shades, deniers and patterns... a sampling from my drawers, too many years a shopaholic co-ordinator par excellence. You're in a sheer seventh heaven, and I'm your nylon angel, your stocking saint, your denier darling... or devil.

And so I begin a personal, private, stocking show... you choose a pair, letting your hands caress and savor the sheerness, asking their denier, colour and make. So as I peel off slowly, and sensually, for you, each pair and smooth on as seductively the new choice, I give you a running description as I swirl and twirl up and down the room for you, each stride bringing rapturous applause and gasps of admiration from you. And I find it as exciting and arousing as you too... the star of your fantasies.

Eventually, worn from my wearings, I plop on the bed beside you. I feel so very sexy in my stockings, knowing how very much you appreciate me in them. I've got quite horny, and I can see you are too, if that bulge in your trousers is anything to go by. Your hands wonder to my thighs again, and this time your fingers reach my panties, find my folds through the fine feather-soft fabric, feverishly fluid from your fumblings.

Your face close to mine, you whisper, uncertainly, "Would you... give me a foot job?" I frown, knowing I've heard that, or read it, somewhere before. Cosmo mag, or Scarlet perhaps? Like a hand job but using your feet. Sometimes but not always in stockings, but I can guess which you'd like.

I undo your trousers and let you pull them off, before peeling off your boxers, a stain of appreciation already soaking through from the bulging tip beneath. I tug them down so you can kick them away, my own appreciation of your super-sized stiff shaft in my gaze. I lean back on the pillows, and let you sit back facing me, and bring my feet, sheer-clad soles, softly together on the huge hot hardness. With slow deliberate, denier-dressed decisiveness, I let my feet wonder up and down your burning tight skin, letting it tickle my soles in return. My toes tingle over the tip, oozing whitish wetness, and swirl it back down, letting the sticky mix cling over the fabric as I draw it back down, coating you.

You let out a low moan, the elastane sending you into ecstasy, a nylon nirvana.

Three

I let my sheer stocking-clad soles wonder up and down your trembling cock, trailing warm cum that spurts in lil hot white eruptions from its tip, like a mini volcano. I tense my toes on its tight tingling skin, making sure you feel every fibre of the fine fabric, my pinky-red toe nails dark under the night blackness of the stockings. Deliberately, I push the long single seam that smiles along the ends of my toes into your firm fiery flesh, so you not only see it, but can imagine its imprint on you...

It doesn't take long before I send you over that first edge of erotic ejaculation. I can feel your taut skin rippling over the hot hardness underneath, stretched like the stocking on my legs. Can sense the lil spasms and jerks within are a prelude to your first cumming, and then...

Woooosh! A glistening fountain shoots into the air from it, splashing down on my stockings, covering my toes and dripping over my feet and shins... a sparkling contrast of whiteness, like big stars in the jet black sky. It sizzles and burns like fat, the hotness exciting me more, as I see your wonderous wide cock, still gripped in sheerness tween my toes, writhe with wild wakening.

"Oh god," you gasp, "Oh my god... I'm sorry." You try and apologise but I just smile my forgiveness. It's nothing to be ashamed of, my lips say, in fact, it's so very hot and horny, to be the focus of your fetish, the one who gives you such pleasure, such sheer and fine delight...

And to show I mean it, I wiggle my toes, now covered in a double layer of slender mesh and sticky, steamy semen, letting it ooze through the fine fabric and between them, warming like a soothing hot bath. It kinda tickles too, in a sensual way. Slippery, I smooth your cum with the stockinged soles over your depleted dick, dragging such daring dirtiness down with more denier-dressed decisiveness. You luv my stockings but the sight of your cum, the nasty nylon naughtiness of it all turns me on too.

I'm now wild too, possessed of this passion you share with me, and which I want to feel in a more intimate way. I reach over and grab another dark stocking, drawing it up on my fingers then stretch it over your still slightly stiff shaft.

"Fuck me with one of my stockings." I say. You need no second bidding. Suddenly, you're as hard and eager as you were moment before, almost saluting to attention. Yes sir! it seems to say. 

I lift my bum and slip off my sheer panties, almost as soaked as my clinging cum-covered collants, lean back half-sitting up against the pillows, thighs parted and knees raised, waiting for your impassioned penetration. You shuffle forward on your knees, holding the stocking tight over your cock, gripping it round your base so it doesn't fall off. And slowly, gently, you ease it inside my wet warm wetness, and we both gaze down as the barely-black stocking surrounding your stiff shaft slips and sinks into the softness of my sex.

Unlike the ultra smooth warmth of your naked cock, the stocking has the coarseness of nylon, the roughness of elastane, like fine sandpaper on the sensitivities of my labia and beyond. As it soaks in my stimulation, becomes wet from my wildness, it feels like a strange over-sized condom, separating your cock from me, which I can feel pushing back and forth. But unlike a condom, which would be stretched skin-tight over you, would stay on you, your cock has pushed the stocking deep inside like a cap, and with each slow sensual thrust you give, you pull and push the nylon this way and that around the vividness of my vagina, with unfamiliar feelings and different desires. And I'm sure you are enjoying it too, your fetish must always have dreamt of fucking someone in stockings, and now you get that wish - plus fucking a stocking itself - in a way you never could have hoped.

Four

Impassioned, you suddenly reach down and grab my stockinged ankles, and bring them up over your shoulders. It's so suddenly animal of you, I'm aroused more by your wildness, quivering round your nylon covered cock like hot jelly. You keep hold of my ankles as they drape near your neck, caressing the fine fabric, and I let you, cos having you hold me high excites me even more, knowing the meshy microfibre make you even harder and larger, if that were possible.

Slowly you begin to rock me, grind me, with a rolling rhythm, stretching and swirling the sheer sensuality of your stockinged shaft inside me. Gasping with your thrusts, I reach out and grab another pair of stockings, slipping a hand in each, pulling them up past each elbow, like long gloves. I caress your chest, nylon on nipple, letting you relish the sensation. Then stroke up your neck, chin, letting the lingerie linger on your lips. A soft kiss through the feather-fine fabric on my fingers. My other hosieried hand brushes your cheek then runs through your hair. And blissed out in a stocking heaven, captive in clinging gossamer cloth, you're suddenly sent over a sheer edge, cumming inside me. A gushing jet, caught in the fine netting but which slowly percolates through the petite perforations, warming me with its heat and making my deep wetness softer and more supple than ever.

And your coarse climax sends me into orgasm too, rippling round you, caressing and massaging the stocking back over you. Every fine fibre, each tingling texture, is mapped by our intimacies as they rub raw against the other's sheerness.

Epilogue

Eventually, spent twice in as many moments, you drop out of me, leaving the hollow hosiery hanging inside. Daringly, I gather up the end in my still-stockinged hand and slowly, sensually, ease it out from my damp depths, soaked through with my own juices, and there, held prisoner, at the very end where my toes would usually be, your own colossal contribution of clingy cloudy cum. A white wet flag of surrender contrasting inside the dark denier.

You're in awe of my nylon naughtiness, my denier dirtiness, and sheer shocking sensuality, as I swing the humidly holding hosiery in front of your hypnotised eyes.

"So..." I purr, knowing you've just had the finest, the filthiest, of your fantasies fulfilled, "Where do we go from here...?"

The question, like the stocking, hangs in the air...



Stocking Stuffer



All characters are over 18. This story is subject to copyright law and should not be duplicated or reproduced without the expressed consent of the author. I encourage you to vote and leave constructive feedback. Thanks for reading.

*

My wife Brooke and I have been married for 10 years. Brooke is stunning, especially for a 44 year old woman. Brooke has natural 36Es and curly red hair that falls just below her shoulders. Her pendulous melons stand proudly off of her chest with no sag whatsoever. They truly are a wonder of nature.

We occasionally play around with other couples however, due to a lack of available time, its hard to categorize our lifestyle as swingers. The last time we played with another couple was over 2 1/2 years ago. Lately, our conversations during sex have centered around her getting used by me and another man. Basically, her serving as our sexual slave, with us taking her as we see fit. She would exist that evening only to pleasure us in any manner we deemed necessary. Brooke loves to be treated like a whore. The only variance is that I make sure she comes as many times as possible. This ensures that she'll come back for more another day.

Brooke was not very sexual when we first met. However, she was one of those women that simply hadn't met the right man to introduce her to sex. More importantly, she had not met anyone whom would introduce her to the art of being a sex slave. Brooke, you see, has been trained to satisfy any wanton desire that I may need to satisfy. She understands that anytime I want to use her body, she is to submit to me in any manner I choose. If she refuses, she understands that I will take her by force, punishing her for her insolence. This rarely occurs however, sometimes even the best trained slave will choose to test boundaries. She has also been trained to clearly detail any fantasy she may have, this takes the guesswork out of exploring her desires. I do not have the time or patience for guessing games. She understands that all of her fantasies will be listened to without judgment or fear of reprisal.

I have a buddy that I ride with named Evan. He has repeatedly remarked how phenomenal Brooke's tits are and that he would love to get his hands on them. As we have friends over to the hot tub frequently, Evan has seen her tits many times. He just hasn't been able to touch them, yet. Evan is average height and weight. He shaves his head and maintains a goatee. The most notable thing about Evan was his abnormally fat cock. He was only 7 inches or so in length however, his cock was about as wide as can of tuna. Having seen him get in and out of the hot tub, the thing looked almost freakish it was so wide. I know that Brooke had seen it too. When he and his wife came over, she always made some kind of smartass comment about his fat cock. 

The day after Thanksgiving, Brooke was off battling the other million or so maniacs, trying to get the pre-holiday bargains. I told Brooke that I would take care of getting all the Christmas decorations out of the attic and deploy them to their respective spots in the yard. Evan had agreed to come over to "assist". Little did she know what she would have waiting for her when she returned.

Brooke was out the door at a ridiculous 3:30 a.m. I got up at a more respectable hour, Evan arrived and we went to work getting the Christmas stuff out of the attic. We finished about noon, the perfect time to sit down for a well deserved beer. One of the items that we retrieved was the Santa suit that I usually used for our kids. As the kids were at the grandparents for the day, tonight was the night that Brooke's fantasy was going to come true.

Looking like she had been through hell, Brooke arrived home about 4 p.m. I had stashed Evan out in the hot tub and told him to chill out until I could get Brooke ready. "Go take a nice hot bath," I told her. "I'll get the stuff out of your car and stash it so the kids don't see it".

"That sounds like a fantastic idea," she said.

"Make sure you clean up the kitty", I directed. "I want it nice and smooth tonight". 

Brooke looked up at me through the top of her eyes, her head hanging down. "Honey," she pouted. "I have been up since 3 a.m. I don't have the energy to have sex tonight".

I closed my eyes briefly and shook my head. "Perhaps you thought that was a request, young lady. We know how this is going to play out, don't we?"

She pouted even more, "yes daddy."

"Now run off and do as your told. Enjoy your bath and come back relaxed and more importantly, SMOOTH." I heavily emphasized the direction again, ensuring that she got the point.

The minute she was off to the bathroom I went out to retrieve Evan. 

"Make sure you're quiet, I don't want her have a clue until she comes out of the bedroom. You know what to do right?"

"Yea, yea, I got it," he says. "I'll be upstairs in the media room waiting. Where's the suit."

"I put it upstairs already. All you have to do is get it on and be waiting. Remember, even when she realizes who it is, don't take off the beard, glasses and hat. I want the pictures to look like Santa and her husband are fucking the shit out of her."

"Like I said, I got it. Geez, you are one sick fuck dude."

"It's her fantasy," I replied. "I just added the Santa twist. Now you can put that Yule log to good use. I think I hear her mulling around down there. I'll bring her up as soon as she's out of the tub."

I ran back downstairs to check on Brooke's progress. She was out of the tub and had a towel wrapped around her tits and another in a towel turban.

"Let's see angel." I waited patiently while she pulled the bottom of her towel aside to reveal her baby smooth mons. "Very nice honey. That's a very good girl. Now, towel off that hair, put on something sexy and come up to the media room, I have a surprise for you."

"Jim, I told you I'm exhausted. Can't we do this some other night?" "The kids are away all night, I've been drinking since noon and oh let's see...", I pulled the towel off of her head, grabbed a handful of her luscious locks, yanked her body towel off and roughly twisted her nipple. "You have apparently forgotten your place. This will require a quick refresher apparently.

Her mouth twisted in pain as the nipple was simultaneously pinched and twisted. Still holding the handful of hair, I walked her to the bed and bent her over the edge. I shifted my hold of her hair to my left hand and quickly removed my belt with the right.

"Twice I've hinted what's expected of you tonight, and twice you've given me backtalk. Two infractions by my count, one swat per infraction."

I doubled up the belt ensuring the both ends where in my grasp. Raising my 38 inch length arm as high as it would go I let loose with the first of her two reminders. There's nothing like the sound of leather singing through the air, ending with a crisp WACK, as both sides of the leather contract on themselves as they made contact with her creamy ass cheek.

"Ouch, you fucking prick," she screamed. "That really hurt."

"That doesn't sound like any adjustment of attitude". I pressed her head into the mattress and raised my hand again. "Just remember, Santa doesn't bring presents to bad boys or girls. Perhaps I'll let you explain your bad attitude to Santa yourself."

WACK! "Ow," she cried. A tear had started to form in her eye. Her ass was turning a bright crimson where the leather and her skin made contact. "I'm sorry daddy, I'll be a good girl." "That's better young lady. Now get dressed and get your ass upstairs."

"Yes daddy, I'll be up in a second," she sniffled. "What did you mean about "explaining to Santa,"" she asked? 

"You'll find out soon enough. Now get upstairs before I am required to give you a reminder of your place". At this point, I had the beginnings of a lovely hard-on. I grabbed a couple of fresh beers and headed upstairs. 

Evan was fully outfitted in the Santa suit and waiting. He had even put the fake tummy on underneath. I knew he'd be taking it off later but, the effect was perfect.

A few minutes later Brooke warily came up the stairs. She had put on a black, transparent babydoll negligee, finished off with her 4 inch stiletto pumps. The baby doll had a string which wrapped around the base of her enormous tits, giving them just a hint of support. It also served to press the transparent material against her nipples, nicely showing off her oblong areolas. She had put on perfume, the combination of it and the oils from her bath were intoxicating. Santa immediately started to develop a tent in his suit.

There was a look of amusement on Brooke's face as she immediately thought this was some kind of joke. Brooke did not immediately recognize whom was occupying the Santa suit.

In his best Santa voice, Evan said "good evening young lady. Come sit on Santa's lap and tell me what you would like for Christmas. Of course, that means that you have to have been a good girl this year."

"Oh, I've been very good," said Brooke. As she walked toward Evan she looked over at me and gently rubbed her ass. The sight of her ass walking in those heals was breathtaking. The red stripe across her ass cheek was clearly visible through the thin black material.

Brooke walked over to Santa, turned and put her arm around his neck as she sat down on the unmolested cheek. At this point, I pulled out the digital camera and started taking pictures of Brooke and Santa. I had previously set up the video camera as well. I hit the record button and checked the focus and lighting. All was well. 

"So young lady, you've been good have you? That's funny, your husband tells me that you just had to have a reminder about your attitude. That's doesn't sound like you've been a good girl to me. Based on what I've heard, I don't think there's going to be any presents for you this year my dear. That is, unless you can give Santa some reason as to why you deserve anything."

It appeared that light was beginning to dawn on Brooke as to what was going on. She began to get into her assigned role in this little game.

In her best little girl voice, "Oh Santa, everyone slips up sometimes. I'll do anything do show you that I can be a good girl."

"Ho ho ho, well," Santa laughed. "Let's just see about that shall we. If you promise to do everything that Santa and your husband tell you, perhaps a gift can be arranged. Are you willing to do anything that we tell you to?"

Still in her little girl voice, "oh yes Santa, I promise," Brooke replied.

"Well then, the first thing your going to do is to stand up, take off that garment, get on your knees and suck Santa's cock. Before you do that however, after you've taken off the clothing, turn slowly for Santa so he can get a good luck at you, you little slut."

"Yes Santa, anything you say." Brooke stood in front of Santa facing him. Her juicy ass was facing me. She reached in back and undid the string that ran under her breasts. She reached down to the bottom of the negligee and pulled it over her head in one motion. Standing there, smooth to the touch, red stripe across her ass, my cock was now raging. Santa appeared to be having the same issue.

"Is this right Santa," Brooke asked as she slowly turned.

"That's a good girl. Now get on your knees and put my cock in your mouth."

Brooke knelt in front of Santa, loosened the big black belt on his jacket, opened it and undid his fly. The minute Brooke saw Evan's fat cock, she knew to whom it belonged. 

"Oh my Santa, I don't know that I can fit that in my mouth."

"You see there my dear, that's just the kind of attitude that get's you in trouble". Santa grabbed a handful of hair with each of his hands and swiftly pulled her mouth onto his cock. 

Brooke opened wide and managed to get the head of his fat cock past her lips. She bobbed up on down on the head, pressing her lips closed when it was out and slowly opening her lips as the head moved past. Once she had lubricated the head sufficiently, Santa pulled harder on the handfuls of hair and pushed his chubby manhood into her mouth.

Brooke was clearly straining to take more of him in her mouth. Santa would apply pressure, using her hair as a handle. "If you can't take more of Santa in your mouth you fucking whore, Santa is going to have to have your husband give you some incentive."

Try as she might, Brook could only stretch her mouth open enough to get past his bulbous cockhead. Santa was pulling her head toward the end of his cock and I could see her straining to get more that the head past her lips. As Santa pulled her closer, Brooke started to gag. 

Santa released one side of her head, shifting the other hand to the crown of her head. He secured his hold on her hair again and pushed her with renewed vigor. With his free hand, Santa threw me his very wide belt and instructed me to "give her a little incentive."

This belt was too wide to fold and hold in one hand. I stood up and approached Brooke's striped ass. Rather then doubling it up, I held the buckle of the belt in my right hand and let the open end dangle. 

"Tell me when you want her to go deeper," I told Santa.

Santa would apply pressure to the back of Brooke's head and I would deliver the open end of the belt with a CRACK! With each swat, Santa would gain some ground as she was vocalizing the pain of the whipping. 

CRACK, "Ow", and Santa's cock would gain some ground in her mouth. After about 10 swats, Santa had his fat cock about 1/3 of the way in to her mouth. When he got to the limit of her mouth's flexibility, Santa would hold her head in place, letting her gag and struggle for air. Brooke's face was turning red and she had slobber running out of her mouth. Each time he held her on to his cock, Brooke would struggle vainly at the pressure on the back of her head. Santa was a master at pushing her to the limit of passing out without actually going over the edge.

"That's right you little fuck slut Santa taunted. This is just the beginning of your redemption. You're going to have to do a lot better than this if you want Santa to bring you anything this year". Evan was apparently completely absorbed in his role.

Santa's belt was so wide that Brooke's ass was now evenly striped from one cheek to the other. I put my hand on her ass and it was warm to the touch. 

"Let's get a bit more comfortable," I told Santa. 

By this point I had abandoned the camera and relied on the video to capture the rest of the action. I quickly disrobed. Santa took off his pants, jacket and fake tummy. He put the black boots back on, leaving on the hat, glasses and beard. 

While we disrobed, Brooke was kneeling on her elbows and knees, gasping for air and coughing. Santa sat back in his chair and began punishing Brooke's mouth right where he left off. I aligned my stiff cock at Brooke's pussy and roughly slammed my cock into her in one push. As my cock fully inserted itself, Brooke's warm ass cheeks pressed against my hips. Having stretched Brooke's lips to the limit, Santa and I now got into a rhythm where I would slam my cock into Brooke and she would take as much of his cock in her mouth as possible. After about 10 minutes of this action, I told Santa I wanted to switch. 

Santa stood up and came around Brooke's ass. I sat in Santa's chair and impaled my cock into the back of Brooke's throat. Santa eased that fat monsters head into Brooke's pussy and Brooke immediately started to moan. I didn't know if it was from pain or pleasure and frankly, didn't care. Each time she moaned I'd shove my cock past her tonsils and the vibration was delicious. 

Santa continued to force his fat cock into Brooke's cunt and had finally impaled his full length into her. "Holy shit that's tight," bellowed Santa. I found it amusing that Evan was staying in character and using the Santa voice. Each time he thrust his meat into her, Santa yelled out "ho".

Cock in, "ho," cock out. Cock in, "ho," cock out. We continued this rhythm for about 10 minutes and Santa signaled that he was ready to cum. We both increased the timing of our thrusts and Brooke had her first orgasm of the evening. Her pussy contracting on Santa's cock sent him over the edge. Watching Santa deposit his load in Brooke, I forced my cock past her tonsils again and distributed a load directly down her throat. 

"Clean up Santa now," I instructed Brooke. She immediately turned around and started licking their combined juices off of Santa's cock. As she turned, I could see the copious amounts of cum that Santa had deposited in her snatch. It was already leaking out of her cunt by the time her moist slit came into view. She repeatedly licked his entire length like a chubby ice cream cone. 

While Brooke was cleaning off Santa's cock, I went downstairs to get more beers, the bottle of lube and some of Brooke's dildos. When I returned, Santa had Brooke laying on her back on one of the couches. He was licking her pussy and slamming two fingers in and out of her. Just as I got to the top of the stairs, Brooke was riding the crest of another orgasm.

I handed Santa a beer, slid in between Brooke's thighs and took over where he had left off. While I was licking Brooke's clit, I lubed up her tight little asshole and slid my index finger up to the second knuckle. I made ever widening circles with my fingers to get her opened up. When her tight little rosebud had loosened sufficiently, I lubed up her 8 inch dong and inserted the head into her ass. Brooke started to moan as I worked the dong up her ass, eventually getting all but about 1 inch into her.

At this point, both Santa and I were hard. He climbed up onto her chest and put the chubby monster right between her tits. Using her nipples as handles, he grabbed each roughly and lifted her melons up and around his cock. He pushed her tits together forming a perfect canal for his cock. 

"Hold your tits together and don't let me cock slide out you fucking slut," Santa told her. With his hands free, Santa pulled her head forward by her hair. Each time the head of his cock protruded out the top her tits Santa pushed the enormous head into her mouth. With his other hand Santa started to spank Brooke's nipples. Each time he pulled his cock out of her mouth he would smack each of her nipples roughly.

"That's it Santa, smack my tits. I'll be a good girl I promise. Fuck my tits Santa, use me and cum all over me. Fuck me Santa, fuck me." Brooke was yelling so loud I was afraid the neighbors might hear her.

While Santa was busy abusing Brooke's tits, I slid my cock into her wet cunt. Since Santa had previously stretched her out, my average cock slid in easily. I pulled her legs up over my shoulders and reached underneath her. While Santa was banging away at her tits, I was alternatively pushing my cock in and out of her cunt and the dong in and out of her ass.

I could tell by Santa's increased pace that Santa was getting close to cumming. His slapping of her tits was intensifying and his thrusting in between her ripe melons continued at a frantic pace. 

"Santa's going to cum bitch", he told Brooke.

Just before he exploded, he grabbed her hair on both sides of her head, plunged hit cock in her mouth as far as she could take and simply held her there. Brooke immediately started to fight for air and Santa just held her, pumping his seed into her stomach. 

The sight of Brooke struggling for air, knowing the Santa was pushing his seed into her without regard for her pleasure or comfort, caused my own load to erupt, filling her cunt with spunk. I pulled the dong out of her ass and Brooke collapsed to the ground in a sweaty heap. 

"Go clean yourself whore," I told her and bring us back some more beers when you come back. 

"Yes daddy," she replied.

Brooke walked over to Evan and said "Thank you Santa, I hope I was a good enough girl for you. "




Stocking Stuffer



"You were lovely dear, I'm sure that you'll find something very special in your stocking Christmas morning." 



Stocking Stuffer



A little stocking stuffer:

This story contains small penis humiliation and light incest; if those aren't your things please leave now. And feedback is always appreciated.

*****

It was our first Christmas as a married couple; Angie and I were visiting my sister, Carry and brother Jack. I've always had a good relationship with my sister, and really liked her new husband, her ex was always such a tool, but they had two great kids together. It was her ex's turn to have the kids for Christmas, so it was just the four adults celebrating together. 

Carry's just a few years older than me and even as her brother, it's not lost on me that she's very cute. Standing about 5'4" flatfooted, with blond hair in a pixie cut; she has a slim runners build, with small breasts and slim ass. I know it's weird for me to notice, but she's always said she looks like a 12 year old boy and makes fun of her little "mosquito bites". 

Jack and Carry don't look like they would go together, he's 6'6" and has the build of a linebacker, broad shoulders, thick neck and comes across a bit country, but he's fun to be around, treats Carry well and generously loaned me $5,000 for some unexpected repairs to our home.

Carry and Angie couldn't be much more different; she's just five feet tall, but curvy in all the right places. Her thick ass would seem out of place if not paired with her equally large 32 DD's, as far as I am concerned she has the perfect figure eight silhouettes. She was rather sheltered growing up, never really had any boyfriends and hadn't even seen a naked man other than me. Early on she admitted to being a bit uncomfortable around Carry, who can be a bit loud and vulgar at times. However, she's learned to appreciate her and has even said she wishes she were more outgoing like Carry.

Part of our annual tradition is watching "A Christmas Story." We have this game we play while watching the movie, every time someone says Red Rider BB Gun, you take a drink, which is around 30 times. So, by the time the movie ends, we usually have a nice warm buzz. 

Once the movie ended, and we were nice a toasty it was time to exchange gifts. For the past several years we've gotten each other one "silly" gift and one "real" gift.

"Angie, open the big one first." Carry suggested. Angie took the bigger of the two gifts and slowly pulled the paper off, it was a clothing box. On the side, I could read the store name, 3 Wishes. She opened the box facing her, and her cheeks blushed as he held up a sexy Christmas bra and panty set.

"I hope it doesn't embarrass you too much, I just thought it would be fun to be a little naughty." Carry said raising her eyebrow. "I got myself a little something too while I was at it." She said, pulling her top aside just enough to see her satiny bra strap.

It was my turn to open a gift and Carry insisted I open the small gift bag first.

"I hope you like it." She snickered, tipping her hand that it was the silly gift. "It kinda matches Angie's gift." I opened the package and pulled out a multicolored knitted sock.

"What is it?" Angie asked.

"It's a penis warmer!" Carry laughed. "Hold it up." I held it up and saw that it was a Christmas green sock at least 8 inches long with a pouch for your balls decked out like a Christmas ornament.

"How does it fit?" Angie asked. Having a smaller penis, I knew she meant the warmer seemed too big and blushed a little.

"Oh, it stretches a bit, so it's not uncomfortable. I've been wearing mine all day." Jack responded.

"Yeah, I made him wear it, I think it's kinda sexy." Carry shared.

Angie gripped her glass of wine, running her finger around the edge thinking things through. At this point I shot my wife the look that should have communicated "shut up" but she read as "ask more questions."

"I think it would just fall off." She continued.

"No, it grips pretty well," Jack, stated matter-of-factly. "See." He stood up and unfastened his pants, reaching in and pulled out his sock covered dick. On him the sock seemed full, his long thick cock easily keeping it in place.

Carry just laughed, Jack wasn't normally this forward, but obviously the wine had gotten to him. 

"Shake it baby." Carry cheered taking advantage of his semi drunken disposition. Jack wiggled his hips shaking his elephant trunk around.

"Oh my gosh!" Angie gasped, clutching her chest. "I don't think it's going to fit like that on you babe." She sighed, keeping her eyes glued to Jack's big dick.

"Why don't you try it on?" Carry smiled, "Come on, it's just family. And I've seen your penis before."

"When I was like eight!" I shot back.

"Umm, no." Carry sang back, "Don't you remember..."

"Yes." I grimaced wide-eyed cutting her off and communicating not to say any more. 

"What?" Angie asked innocently.

"Well..." Carry chuckled, knowing this would be embarrassing to me, "when I was in college I came home to do some laundry. It didn't seem like anyone was at home, so I went up to his room to see if he was there. I guess he didn't hear me, because I caught him stark naked playing with his little penis to some internet porn. He must've really been into it, jacking his little thing and playing with his balls. I cleared my throat, and when he saw me he turned bright red, slammed the computer closed and stood up, I guess to grab something to cover up with. But it was too late. His little thing spurted, it was so funny watching him try to catch his cum and scrambling to cover up. He begged me not to tell our parents."

"What did you do?" Angie asked Carry.

"I punished him by making him do my laundry... naked." She laughed. "I swear he stayed hard the entire time. I still laugh thinking about his little dick bouncing around as he washed, dried and folded my clothes."

"Baby!" Angie chastised, giving me a playful swat on my leg, while still eyeing Jack's cock. He finally put his snake back in his pants, and Angie let out a little sigh and frowned when he finally tucked it away.

We finished opening the gifts and it all seemed to go back to normal. I excused myself to the restroom. I stood looking at myself in the mirror. I am not a bad looking guy at all, I have a slim but muscular build and don't mind taking my shirt off, but I've always been aware that my penis just doesn't measure up. 

I pulled my dick out and looked in the mirror again. Even on my 5 foot 7 inch frame it looked disproportionately tiny. I keep the hair around my groin trimmed short to make my dick more visible, but it doesn't help me look any bigger. And, I couldn't help but realize just how much smaller it was compared to Jack. I finished up and returned to the family room.

"Let's play some Wii bowling, I am tired of just sitting here." Carry said. Jack immediately got the system up and going.

"A shot for every pin you have left at the end of each frame." Jack challenged, and broke out some candy cane vodka; he had been given a case left over from some company party.

We started playing and we each took our shots as the pins determined. By the fourth frame, I had taken 6 shots, Angie 8 and Carry and Jack had two each.

By the ninth frame, I was well passed buzzed, but had gotten surprisingly better. While Carry and Jack had gotten worse, and the scores were nearly even.

"Let's make a bet." Angie smirked. "Which ever couple has the worst combined score has to play the next game wearing nothing but your naughty gifts."

"You're on!" Carry shouted back. Jack and I weren't even given a say in this bet.

"Wait!" I cried in protest.

"Oh come on honey, the worst thing that can happen is you get to see me in this." She said playfully holding her sexy bra up to her large breasts and jiggling them around.

"Fine!" I finally caved. After all it was just my wife, who has seen me naked a lot, and my sister and Jack. The three of them hooted and cheered in victory.

Carry was first up on the tenth frame; she cleared her throat and took her time lining up the ball. Finally, she threw that ball down the lane and got all but one pin. On the second throw she knocked it down, picking up the spare.

She got her bonus ball lined up and with an air of seriousness threw the ball. She got 8 pins down.

Jack was next; he followed Carry's lead and slowly lined up his shot. Carry kept giving him pointers as he did. Satisfied with his alignment he threw the ball. 

"STRIKE!" He shouted.

Then threw his first bonus shot, knocking down 7 pins, and then 2 more with the last shot.

I was up; I took my time, adjusted my aim and let it fly. I was still left with three pins, but made it up with the spare.

I carefully and steadily threw my last ball. I knocked down 8 pins.

Angie was last; she stood there looking down the lane for a while. She always hooks left, and adjusts her aim accordingly. She took a deep breath and bowled the ball. 

"Strike!" We shouted in unison. Carry was quickly adding up the score on her phone.

"You only need to knock down 8 pins and you win." Carry huffed disappointedly.

Angie took a deep breath, looked at Carry who gave her a wink, and threw the ball again. I watched her ball slide down, hugging the lane before falling into the gutter.

Carry and Jack jumped off the couch in victory.

"Alright... alright... alright" Jack snorted doing his best Matthew McConaughey impression.

"You lost! It's time for a Christmas fashion show." Carry sneered and tossed us our presents. Angie downed a double shot of vodka, before heading to the bedroom.

"Sorry." Angie bemoaned, her bag in one hand and her wine in the other. I took the warmer out of the bag and looked at it, suddenly it seemed much bigger.

"Don't worry, I am sure it will be fine." Angie consoled and then disappeared into the adjoining bathroom to change.

I undressed and slipped the warmer over my dick and tucked my balls in the pouch. I took a quick glance at myself in the mirror. "Shit" a muttered. My sock looked empty, with the bulk of it just dangling. 

"Let me see." Angie said, startling me; I hadn't noticed she came out of the bathroom. She had her clothes in hand, but wore a short robe covering her new lingerie. I turned toward her and a smirk of disapproval came upon her face.

"It doesn't fit quite right does it?" Her shoulders drooped.

"Come here." She motioned me to come closer. She reached out and played with the empty length.

"Well, there's plenty of room." She groaned and snatched the sock off of me leaving me totally naked.

Angie grabbed several tissues out of the box on the counter and stuffed them inside the sock.

"Here," She said, handing it back. "Try it on." I put it back on, it was still barely half full, with the other half obviously empty. I wiggled back and forth like Jack had done, but my stocking flew off.

"It's still no good." Angie twisted her lips. Then knelt down in front of me yanking the sock back off. She just sat there looking at me and thinking. As far as I can remember this was the first time she had really looked at my penis. She's seen it before, held it in her hands, we've had sex; but this was different.

She took my small dick between her thumb and forefinger, moving it up and down examining it from all angles. Angie's sullen stares turned to a look of frustration as she pulled on my dick stretching it out.

"Do you think you can make it... bigger?" Her voice cracked. I reached down and did my best to stretch and fluff, Angie's big brown eyes watching and waiting for more.

"I know!" She finally jolted, and rummaged around in the drawers for a bit. "Here, " She finally said, pulling out a ponytail holder. She placed the sock back over me, and then placed the ponytail holder at the base to hold it in place.

"You can barely see it." She said referring to the elastic band, but I couldn't help wonder if she meant my dick. Angie grabbed her glass and chugged the remaining wine, then stood up, taking a second to regain her balance.

"Woo, I think maybe I am a little drunk." She smiled. Then led me by the hand like a child being ushered into the doctor's office. I held my other hand in front of me, trying to conceal as much as possible.

"Pada!" Angie sang as we entered the room, and then stepped aside for everyone to see me. I am sure she meant, "tada", but in her inebriated state it didn't come out right.

"That's not too bad." Carry chuckled, almost disappointed and swirled her finger telling me to spin around. I complied and was met with a quick swat on the butt from Carry.

"Now you!" Jack said, sitting up in his chair, eyeing my wife unable to hide his excitement.

"Okay, um... hold up," Angie said with a nervous quiver and turned off the overhead lights, turned on a lamp and asked Carry to turn one on near her. The only light in the room now was from the two lamps and the orange glow from the fireplace. She downed another shot of the candy cane vodka and took a deep breath.

"You ready?" she laughed with embarrassment, covering her face with her hands. "I can't believe I am doing this."

She untied the robe and let it drape open before allowing it to slip down off her shoulders. The bra seemed about a cup size too small, as they overflowed with her full breasts. All eyes locked on her massive cleavage on display in full sight.

"Woo Hoo!" Carry catcalled. Even in the dim light you could tell Angie was blushing, she looked down at her large boobs and cracked a smile and shook her head in disbelief that she was disrobing in front us.

Finally she dropped her arms to her sides and let the robe fall to the ground. I hadn't gotten a good look at her lingerie before; it was very risqué, especially for her. It was a naughty elf outfit (a not so subtle jab at her height) with a velvety bra with jingle bell trim; the bottom was a matching velvet skirt with jingle bells that just slightly veiled a matching red thong. The small triangle of cloth hugged her form tightly, clearly outlining her delicious lips.

"Good god!" Jack gulped. 

"DAMN!" Carry snorted, "I knew you had some big boobies, but god damn!" She finished. Standing behind Angie, Carry looked over her shoulder reached around and groped my wife's breasts, almost kneading them in her hands.

"I always wondered what it would be like to have giant boobs," Carry exhaled, and jiggled Angie's heavy mounds feeling their weight, and jingling her bells. It didn't surprise me that Carry would feel her up, but what did catch me off guard was how nonchalant Angie seemed. She just kept her arms to her side and watched as my sister played with her breasts. 

"I don't know" Angie sighed, "I think they make me look fat, they're just so... big." Angie has always been self conscious of her body; she developed early in middle school and always felt embarrassed by how big her breasts were. 

"Shut. Up." Carry shot back in humorous disbelief, and pulled off her shirt, turning the uncomfortable meter to 11. Carry is a cute girl, but she's also my sister. She stood side by side with Angie in order to compare their breasts.

Carry's bra was a shimmery satin Christmas green, with various ornament shapes adorning the small cups. Standing together their size difference was jaw dropping, Angie's breasts looked are like large coconuts and in that bra I could almost see the areola around her nipples peeking out, while Carry's humble breasts created no visible cleavage at all.

"I'd pay good money to have boobs like yours." Carry continued to pump up Angie's ego. Then put her arm around Angie's back and ushered her over to Jack. "Don't you think she looks good? If I got implants they'd have to be at least this big." She cocked her head and lifted her eyebrow, "to do that thing you've been wanting to do." She added with a cheeky note.

Jack tugged at his big tool in his pants, "Woman! You are killing me." He whimpered with fake tears.

"So, you like 'em big do you?" Carry toyed reaching over and shaking Angie's boob just enough to make her tit pop out of her bra.

"Shit, this thing is getting tight." He grimaced squirming in his seat and tugging at his dick again. While this was going on I just stood there silently, I am not sure if it was the booze or just the situation, but it felt like I was dreaming.

"Fuck." He gasped, undid his pants and yanked his hard cock out. It was still in the knitted sheath, but the thing was full and stretched with his thick meat.

"Oh my." Angie panted wide-eyed and tucked her nipple away. Jack was sitting directly in front of her mostly exposed body with the biggest, thickest dick I'd ever seen just inches away from her.

"Shit, it's strangling me." Jack agonized. Carry reached out and tugged his cock in an attempt to yank his warmer off, but the thing didn't budge. He began rolling it off like I've seen girls do with knee high socks. The base of his cock was massive, probably 7 inches round. Angie and I watched in a stupor as he rolled it up his throbbing cock, revealing more and more of his veined flesh. 

Finally, he rolled it past the deep ridge of his helmet and then pulled it completely off. Exposing his large doorknob head. His cock expanded as it was freed from the tight sock. Jack held it in the palms of his hands, blowing on it to cool it down. In its fully erect state it was easily nine inches long, and as thick as my wrist. 

"Jeez, Jack, she really got to you." Carry snapped.

"I..." Angie blushed coyly, "sorry about that" then turned away, but lost her balance and fell back on Jack's lap his cock pinned between his stomach and her thick ass, only barely covered with a thin fabric flossed between her cheeks. She regained her composure, and began to stand back up, her bubble butt just inches from Jack's dick. 

"Whoa momma" Jack gasped gripping his cock and giving it a couple jerks.

"Jack!?" Carry chided followed by a little laugh. Then a mischievous smile spread across her cute face. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra and flung it over to the side chair. I blinked in shock; my sister was now naked from the waist up in front of us, while her husbands' dick stood at attention.

Her breasts were nothing more than a slight curve of flesh capped by rosy nipples that stuck out like pencil erasers. 

She knelt down beside Jack and took his cock from him, holding it up; she gently blew on the full length of his rod, stopping about half way to take a breath. She licked her lips, broke a smile and looked him in the eyes.

"You can watch her if you like." She granted him, and then sucked the tip of his head and started jacking him off.

Angie walked back over to her robe and bent over to pick it up.

"Please, don't." Jack lustfully directed toward my wife, begging her with his eyes not to cover up.

Jack reached out and motioned Angie closer. Carry was working his fat cock slobbering all over his shaft, jacking him with both hands one on top of the other, and she could still take his head in her mouth.

Angie stood right in front of Jack giving an unobstructed view of his cock being sucked off. A newfound confidence glazed over her face, she stood up taller, cocked her hips and crossed her arms underneath her breasts lifting them as if an offering to Jack's wooden idol.

Jack took Carry's face in his hands and lifted her ear to his mouth; his cock pointing right at my wife who let out whimpers looking at his bulbous head. Carry and Jack shared a few secret whispers, and insinuating glances at Angie.

"Ahem," Carry cleared her throat, "I, uh... well the thing is, Jack has been wanting something for a while that I can't do for him." Her eyes drifted down to her chest. "I know how this is going to sound... but, Angie has what we need... what he wants, and what I want to give him... so if you would let Jack fuck your boobs, we'd be willing to cancel the debt you owe us."

We've been struggling to make ends meet, and having this burden of debt over us has been awkward to say the least. We still owed Jack and Carry the full five thousand dollars we borrowed three months ago. 




Stocking Stuffer



"Wait, what?" I asked.

"He just wants to cum between Angie's tits." She quickly added.

"Can we have a second to..."

"Okay." Angie cut me off. I shot her a pained look of concern. "It's okay baby." Angie toyed looking down at my penis.

Neither Carry nor Jack hesitated, Carry nearly skipped to their bedroom her small tits hardly bouncing, saying she'd be right back. Jack pulled his pants all the way off and lifted his shirt over his head. Jack is thick all over, with broad shoulders and firm chest, with just little beer belly. In one word he is "masculine," tan skin, dark wavy hair covering his chest, trailing down his stomach to his giant cock, his large balls also sporting a thick fur.

In seconds Carry came scurrying back with a bottle of baby oil in hand. She pressed up behind Angie putting her lips to her ear,

"You sure about this?" I saw her mouth; Angie looked Jack's cock up and down and answered, yes.

Carry moved Angie so she was standing between Jack's powerful legs and handed the bottle to Jack. She massaged Angie's shoulders a second and kissed her on the neck, looking down at Angie's chest, straining to breath. She slid her hands under Angie's bra straps peeling them off her shoulders and unhooked her bra in the back, holding the cups in place teasing her man. His eyes were glued to Angie's tits, as Carry lovingly leered at him. 

"Please?" Jack asked, and Carry pulled Angie's top away. Her breasts jiggled, making Jack's cock twitch, and mine too.

Carry cupped and fondled Angie's breasts, "They're so warm" Carry noted. Then licked the tips of her fingers and gently caressed Angie's right nipple, tweaking, pinching and pulling at her pink tit.

Angie moaned and a visible chill ran through her body. Carry held her hand out and Jack poured a generous splash of oil in her palm. She worked the oil all over Angie's right breast, she held out her other hand and it was met with another shot of baby oil. 

Carry took the left globe and ran her left hand underneath it and with her right she coated the tempting mound with oil, swirling it all over her ample flesh. The oil caught the glimmering light, making them seem even bigger and more delectable.

Angie sighed and rolled her head towards me and gasped.

"Oh my!" She chuckled,

Carry looked at me and covered her mouth. I glanced down to see that my penis had hardened, but in the stuffed sock it looked like my dick was broken. My real flesh stood out, but the tissue portion hung down.

"Oops! Looks like you're busted." Angie smiled beckoning me to her. I stood next to her on the other side of Carry. She grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me into a deep lusty kiss. She placed my hand on her left breast; I gripped her tightly and then felt Carry's hand crossing her chest to the right breast.

I pulled back taken off guard by feeling my sister enjoying my wife's form. 

"Let's take this off," Angie said. Carry watched as she tugged the sock off of my small hard dick in one simple motion. The ponytail holder snapped down on my penis and behind my sack. 

"I knew you weren't that big, but I just thought maybe you had grown some. But that's how I remember it. It's so... small." Carry said searching for the right words. Carry snatched the penis warmer from Angie and pulled the tissue out. "Oh my God, you're a little stocking stuffer!" She balked. "Were you trying to stuff your stocking to make your little pinky look big for me?" She laughed.

"It's not THAT small." I resisted,

"Baby, all I know is that compared to this," Angie grabbed Jack's cock making him jump. "It's small." She finished feeling the length and girth of Jack's cock in her hands.

"Maybe there's a connection between siblings," Angie pondered, "girls with small boobies have brothers with small willies." She laughed at herself, and maybe a little at me.

"Now, let's take care of this." Angie directed, squeezing Jack's cock, expressing even greater confidence. 

She sat down on her knees taking her tits in her hands and looked Jack in the face. "Fuck'em." She ordered. "I want to feel a real cock between my tits."

Jack leaned forward and placed the tip of his knob under Angie's boobs, and thrust his pole up between them.

"It's so big." Angie huffed. The tip of his dick stuck out of the top and hit her in the chin. I love fucking her tits, but when I do it you can't see my dick at all. I can fuck them hard and you never see the tip poke out. His shaft was buried deep in her cleavage and still had several inches sticking out.

Carry slid her jeans off, revealing her Christmas themed boy short panties. Then knelt down behind Angie to get an over the shoulder view of her monster cocked husband titty fucking my wife. She slid her hand around Angie's chest and gripped her husbands' thick head protruding from my wife. Jack's cock was now covered in oil and was fucking Angie's tits and Carry's hand at the same time.

Carry slid her other hand underneath Angie's and held her breast in place, freeing Angie to grip my dick. She grabbed hold of me and started jerking it hard and fast.

"Slow down." I pleaded, not wanting this to be over too soon for me. She completely stopped and just held me; I moved my hips back and forth fucking her fist, watching Jack's massive tool sliding between her breasts.

"Oh," Carry sympathetically laughed. "His whole penis fits in just one hand." She nodded towards me.

Angie, Carry and I looked to see my little purple head and then it disappeared into Angie's fist, and back again.

"Now feel this." Carry said, and took Angie's hand off my dick, and placed it on Jack's trouser eel.

"My God! It really is huge. Just how big is this thing?" Angie blurted, her hand was wrapped on his head, as he jacked into it. I couldn't help but notice her fingers didn't even touch.

"He's just under ten inches." Carry gloated.

"How big are you, little brother? Maybe 5 inches?"

"Probably around five," I knowingly lied.

"Probably? You don't know, or you don't want to say?" Angie asked with disappointment in her voice.

"Keep going." Carry said to Jack and Angie, and went back to her bedroom again. She came prancing back with a fabric tape measure in hand.

"Let's make sure." She leaned in and handed Angie the tape measure, and told her to measure Jack.

She placed the tape at the base of his Coke can thick cock, and ran it up the length.

"9 and 3/4's" Angie read. Carry took the tape from her and grabbed my little pecker. A jolt shot through me as she touched me, my sister was handling my dick, and what's worse it felt good.

She gave me a few quick tugs, "It's just so tiny." She snickered. She cupped my balls in her right hand and held my pecker still with her fingers, then placed the tape against me. It didn't take long for her to stretch down the length of my little guy; she covered it up so I couldn't see. She looked up with a pouty face and frowned.

"You are a bad boy." She said and gently swatted my balls. "First you lie to us by stuffing that sock and trying to make yourself look big, then you lie to us by saying your five inches. You are not 5 inches mister." She huffed mockingly. 

"Does anyone want to guess?" She asked, slowly tracing my dick with her finger.

Angie looked over at me, and eyed my dick in Carry's hands. "4 and half?" She balked dolefully

"Nope." Carry continued to run her finger up, down and around my dick, making swirls around the crown. She pinched my mushroom, opening the slit and placed her finger over it.

"At least four... right?" Angie threw out a few seconds later, as Jack kept thrusting between her flesh pillows.

"Sorry, little brother. But this little piggy..."She wiggled my wiener around several times. "Is just 3 and 1/4 inches big." She teased.

"Oh," Angie sighed, "Jack is 3 times your size."

"No, you're not counting the girth, he's got to be nearly 10 times the size." Carry corrected her. "Let's see." She wrapped the tape around the base of my dick. Then handed back to Angie telling her to measure his girth around the base.

"So what is it?" Carry asked.

"Almost seven inches." Angie said, "And you?"

"Sorry, but your little husband is just under 4 inches around."

"Now watch as Angie handles a real cock." Carry clamped her thumb and forefinger down around the base of my dick and pulled me closer to Angie and Jack.

"How you doing, big man?" Carry asked.

"I am getting there." He had been tit-fucking Angie for almost 10 minutes now.

He stood up and pulled Angie to her feet. Their size difference was striking; Jack is a full 16 inches taller than Angie, and much bigger all around.

Angie's breasts were covered in oil, and glistened in the light of the fire; her nipples were as hard and erect as Jack's cock, which was also coated with the slick liquid. Angie bent her knees slightly and Jack was able to get his dick between her breasts standing up. He held her shoulders and took longer, slower strokes.

"You know," I said, feeling snarky. "Neither one of us could ever do that for our spouses." I smirked.

"No." Carry said stolidly, "But I could get implants," She looked up at me still on her knees and gripping my dick. "But, there's really nothing you can do about this." She wiggled my dick back and forth.

"And let's be honest, small tits don't affect sex the way a small penis does." She wiggled my little piggy again. "You can't honestly think Angie would be as satisfied with 3 inches as she would be with 10 inches do you?"

"It's 3 and a quarter." I added.

"Oh yes, and that ¼ really makes a difference." Carry laughed. "I've always said that I look like a 12 year old boy. But you, you're hung like an eight year old."

Jack physically picked Angie up and placed her on her back on the ottoman beside them. He straddled her and gripped her breasts in his hands pressing them together and enveloping his cock. Holding her down, he began fucking her faster and faster, his large balls dragging across her stomach. With every thrust, the jingle bells on Angie's bottoms tinkled, drawing my attention to her hand rubbing her clit through her G-string.

Angie suddenly slipped her hands down and peeled her panties off, throwing them at my feet with a loud jingling. She grabbed Jack's shoulders and pushed him down her body. 

"I NEED to feel it." She sighed. Taking his giant cock in hand, she rubbed it against her wet opening. My heart skipped a beat, but my cock twitched. Pulling him in she winced and cried out as his thick head pushed her tight lips open wider than they've ever been before. I wanted to be mad at him, I wanted to be mad at her, but I just watched. Releasing his cock Angie sat up on her elbows and watched as he slowly filled her cunt, moaning and panting as he continued to impale her. 

"Hold it!" She pleaded, reaching down and feeling his cock and her swollen pussy. "God it's so thick." She laid back and spread her legs open, then using her hands she spread her pussy open as much as she could; her wedding ring catching a sparkle of light as she did. "Fuck it hurts. Just hold it in me."

Jack was only a few inches in and patiently waited for instruction, as he continued to rub his hands all over her tits, and down her stomach swiping his thumb over her swollen clit.

"OH FUCK!" Angie squealed as an orgasmic wave crashed inside her. She has never cum like that with me, and certainly not from such little effort.

"Keep going," She demanded. He pushed in even further; he must've been no more than half way in and she already had more cock in her than she ever had with me. 

Carry still had a grip on my little penis and pulled me down to my knees. Putting me in a better position to watch.

He plunged deep inside my wife now just barely an inch left to go. Angie placed her hands on his stomach signaling him to stop. I couldn't believe how much dick she had taken, and couldn't seem to move, speak or even think straight. Part of me was freaking out, and part of me was proud of her for taking such a beast.

My eyes were glued to the scene in front of me, it was so unreal, I lost track that this was my wife fucking my brother. I was shocked out of my daze when Carry clinched down on my pecker and pulled it toward her. I looked over and saw her licking Angie's left nipple while watching her husband fuck my wife. 

"Put your hand on her stomach," Carry directed me. I did as she said.

"Show your husband how deep Jack's cock is inside you."

Angie guided my hand just under her belly button. She pressed my hand down and I felt Jack's cock throb deep inside her.

"Holy shit" I murmured. Just then I felt him push his fat cock in all the way. Angie came for a second time as he bottomed out deep inside her. Feeling her quivering and convulsing on his dick sent a chill through my body, making my cock twitch, still in my sister's grip.

"She may never be able to feel you again." Carry whispered in my ear, with a devilish grin.

Jack started really fucking her now, humping her with long strokes and sliding in all the way. His large balls slapped against her ass each time he fucked her soaking wet cunt. With each thrust she seemed more comfortable with him inside her, and I couldn't help but think maybe Carry was right, she would never be the same again.

Angie shouted again not able to form any real words, just cursing gibberish as she came for a third time. Clawing and scratching at the ottoman beneath her, she flailed about in that space between ecstasy and pain.

Jack slid his girthy cock almost all the way out, from my position I could see the ridge of his plump helmet pulling Angie's pussy apart. His doorknob sized head popped out with a flood of juices following.

"Have you ever felt anything like this before?" Carry asked.

"No. Never." She heaved in return.

Jack flipped Angie over to her hands and knees, her huge tits swaying as he positioned her for reentry. Jack rubbed the length of his cock between Angie's butt cheeks, and paused with the head pressed against her virgin anus. 

"Oh God!" I thought, "Was he going to take her anal virginity, something she had never done with me? Was she going to let him try to shove that giant thing up her ass?"

"Have you ever done anal?" Carry asked.

"No, never." I stammered. 

Jack pressed against Angie's hole, it was like trying to squeeze an apple through a wedding ring.

"Jack! No!" Carry called out, putting a stop to this. "She isn't ready for that, you'll split her in two. Plus, I guess we should leave something for my little brother to fuck other than his hand. After tonight she might be too loose for him to ever feel her pussy."

He readjusted and teased her cunt with the head of his cock. Angie flinched in anticipation. He parted her lips with his cock and Angie thrust back, forcing him inside her.

"Jesus! Your tits are fucking huge in this position." Carry snorted, finally letting go of my little nub to play with Angie's breasts, kneading them, caressing them, and feeling their weight in her hands.

Angie panted and whimpered with every thrust, and each time he withdrew she pressed back to meet his returning blow.

"You're so deep inside me, god I've never been so filled. Just a little more... GOD YES!" Her legs quaked as another orgasm erupted inside her.

"Stop, stop, please, you're killing me!" She panted, pulling herself off of Jack's dick, she rolled to the floor pushing the ottoman away. She lay there holding her breasts and trembling in aftershocks.

"I am getting close" Jack huffed, and straddled my wife's stomach. His cock jutting straight out from his body looked like it had gained another inch, I could hardly believe how big and hard he was. His cock slightly curved and every vein seemed engorged. Carry leaned forward and sucked the head of his throbbing member.

Carry placed her arm against Jack's cock. "See how big he is." We all looked and saw that he was the size of her arm, wrist to elbow and just as thick. 

"Now look," She took me by the dick again and raised me to my knees. She placed her index finger on top of my dick. I was just slightly longer. "He's an arm, and you're just a finger." She added. A drop of pre-cum seeped out of my dick as she held it. 

"Oh" Carry chuckled, "It's crying. Is it because now it knows how tiny it really is?" 

"Sorry little buddy," She bent down addressing my penis, and wiped the tear of cum away. "You'll never be anything more than a little piggy." She mocked in a little girl voice.

"Come." Carry tugged my dick pulling me closer to Jack. She held his cock and pulled me to it. Then placed my dick on top of his. Angie sat up to get a better look.

"See Angie, this is a cock." She sighed and shook Jack's large erect flesh. Feeling his cock rubbing against my dick was strange, but made my little guy jump.

"Oh, it's trying to get bigger," Angie toyed. "Your whole dick is just barely longer than his head. But... not as thick." She laughed.

"I'm sorry baby... you just look so small compared to Jack." Angie sighed despondently.

"It's not just compared to Jack." Carry schooled her, "I've been with a lot of guys in my life, and Jack is big. I mean really big, huge even. But, little brother isn't even average. "This..." Carry announced wiggling my dick. "This is just a little piggy." She snorted, making pig noises and jiggling my dick.

"You remember that rhyme about the piggies?" 

"The big pig went to the market to get fucked by all the pretty ladies, while the little piggy went wee wee wee wee wee wee wee wee." 

Carry jerked my little piggy with every "we" she sang out, I was about to cum by my sister's hand and she probably felt my dick pulsing when she finally stopped. I grabbed her wrist, but she clamped down on my dick as I rocked my hips, trying to fuck her hand, with no success. 

"Oh my gosh!" Carry shot out, "You almost came on me!"

"You were the one jerking it!" I said.

"Jerking it? I was wiggling it. I guess when you have a little one, any movement feels like a jerk." She voiced with a mix of faux disgust and amusement as she continued to grip my dick.

"I can barely jerk Jack with one hand." Carry wrapped her hand around her husband's fat, erect cock, pumping with her right hand still holding my little piggy in her left. Angie repositioned herself beneath Jack, licking and sucking his plum sized balls.

"See, it takes at least two hands to jerk a real cock." Carry bleated.

Angie raised her hands and gripped Jack's cock with one hand near the base, and the other on top, while Carry still held the top in her hand. Jack had three hands jerking his cock, and I could still see the tip. 

Carry looked at me then down at my groin, my dick was smothered in her fist, as a sympathetic smirk crawled across her face.

"Okay, big boy, I think I need a turn." Carry urged, letting go of my swollen dick, she pulled off her panties and spun around on all fours. I couldn't help but notice how big her pussy looked. Her shaved pussy had large dangling lips having been permanently stretched out by Jack's cock. Angie's head was beneath them as she gently guided the massive cock in to Carry's waiting pussy.

Jack immediately fucked her deep and hard. Angie continued to lie beneath them watching them fuck. Then sat up and licked Jack's harry balls. 

I continued to be both mortified and extremely aroused at the same time. Here I was watching my wife and my sister being fucked by a huge cock, not to mention the embarrassment of Angie discovering I have a small penis, and her discovery that she likes a big dick.

I lost myself in thought, but was snapped out of it when Carry shouted in sexual bliss. Angie had positioned herself to suck Carry's clit while Jack slammed her with his massive tool. Unable to take anymore, Carry slid off of Jack's cock and looked over at me.




Stocking Stuffer



"Oh my God" Carry snorted, looking at me, "are you playing with yourself watching your sister get a good fucking?"

I hadn't even realized I was doing it till she called attention to it. And for some reason a blush came over me, as if I was the only one doing something perverted. 

Angie looked over at me, "Baby," she sighed, "stop playing with your little piggy." I put my hands to my side and apologized.

"I am close!" Jack grunted.

Jack slid down and placed his cock at the bottom of Angie's breasts, she pressed them together as he feverishly fucked her tits again. He had already brought my wife to orgasm several times, and my sister.

As his head pierced the top of her breasts, she stuck out her tongue and licked the underside of his big head.

"Oh God!" He cried out. "Oh God, your tits are so fucking soft. Jesus, they're so big, you feel so good!"

"Ooh!"

"Ooh!"

"Ooh!" His snakehead turned purple and throbbed like a beating heart before bursting his thick pearly fluid all over Angie's tits, neck and face.

"Fuck ME!" He chanted, throwing his arms up and behind his head, he kept pumping between Angie's tits and more and more semen drained out. Completely spent he slid his dick from between her tits, and lay down on the floor beside her. 

Carry went a grabbed a couple of towels, she sat down between her husband's legs and gently cleaned him off. Carry tossed me a towel and told me to clean Angie. I wiped what seemed like a liter of cum off of her chest and neck.

"What about me?" I pouted, pointing at my erect little piggy. Angie didn't say a word; she just lifted her knees and spread her legs. I knelt down in position.

"Look at how close he has to get to her," Carry snorted.

I placed the tip at her gaping hole and fell inside her. "Jesus, I could fit my arm in her stretched out pussy." I thought. I pumped away, swirling, and mashing as best I could, but honestly I wasn't getting anywhere. Angie just sat there motionless and expressionless as I pounded away.

Carry crawled over and placed her head on Angie's chest, looking down at us fucking as she had when Jack was inside her.

"I can't see anything. Are you sure you're in there?" She asked me, "Is he in there?" She directed toward Angie. My wife looked down at me between her legs.

"I am not sure." Was all she said, and laid her head back down. I sat up further on my knees and Carry placed her face low on Angie's stomach. 

"Oh, there it is, I see it now, yep you're in. Here maybe this will help." She mocked, and slid her hand down to Angie's pussy pinching her lips tighter around my little dick. 

My gasp betrayed the fact that it helped. 

"Oh! You do like that" She teased, and clamped even tighter. "Just close your eyes and imagine you're fucking her with a great big, giant cock." She cooed. I closed my eyes and felt Carry tighten up even more. Finally, it felt like I was fucking her. God it felt great.

I could hear Angie moaning now, finally showing some sign of interest in me. She cried out a little yelp, and my confidence returned. I gripped her knees and pounded harder.

"You know." Carry teased, "Angie had to open up as wide as possible to take Jack's cock, but with you... well you better get used to squeezing her pussy around your tiny thing."

My pace quickened and my face flushed, "I think he's about to explode," Carry sang. I opened my eyes and saw Carry's fist clenched around my dick. I was no longer inside my wife at all. I was fucking my sister's hand, while she played with my wife's clit with the other.

"Cum for me, little piggy." Carry whispered.

I thrust into her hand as deep and hard as I could. My dick erupted in her hand; I kept pumping away till I was totally spent. Carry released her grip and gently stroked my head ushering out a little more cum. I sat down with my back against the couch. Carry continued to play with my flaccid dick. 

"I've never seen one this little." She confessed with serious look of concern on her face. Then leaned over and gave it kiss.

"Merry Christmas my LITTLE stocking stuffer."



Stocking Stuffers



"Do you think Mom and Dad know?" Jennifer asked me.

Despite the gravity of our situation, I had to repress a chuckle. My sister's tone, like her face, was so earnest! However, as I considered her question, I became more somber. "I don't know," I had to admit.

"Do you think they suspect?"

Again, I considered her question. It was one that I'd asked myself enough times during the past six months that Jen and I had been lovers. Again, I had to admit, "I don't know."

Although my answers were honest, my ignorance seemed to irritate my sister. She frowned, a little angrily, I thought. "What do you know?" she asked, sarcasm edging her voice.

We were sitting close, and I leaned forward. The tip of my nose brushed hers. Our lips touched. We kissed. Our mouths opened, and our kiss deepened, becoming wet. I took one of her soft-firm breasts in my hand. "I love you," I reassured her.

After a moment, Jen retreated, taking my hand off her tit. "We can't go on like this," she said.

"You want to go to my room?" I joked.

Jen was not amused. "It's wrong."

"No, it's not."

"It's incest, Brad."

"So?" Sitting in my sister's bed, wearing nothing while she was dressed in only her bra and panties, I'd been half-erect. Since she'd raised the question of whether our parents were aware of our lovemaking, however, I'd become flaccid again. Talking about one's parents in the same sentence as sex has such an effect, especially when one's girlfriend also happens to be one's sister. As to the subject of incest, we'd already been through the whole sordid subject several times. Jen knew as much about the matter as I did. We'd educated each other, using the library, the Internet, and other sources. Feeling like a professor, I reminded my sister of our findings concerning the topic:

"In ancient Egypt, among the pharaohs, siblings married and had children together. In turn, their children did likewise. Hawaiian royal families also routinely engaged in incest, as did the South American Mixtec tribe and Europe's Hapsburg family. In the United States, first cousins can marry. In Greek and Norse mythology, the gods and heroes have sex with their brothers and sisters. Incest also occurs among King Arthur's knights of the Round Table and their female relatives. Even the Bible mentions incestuous relationships. Lot's sister Micah marries her uncle Nahor, and Lot's daughters have sex with their father, becoming the mothers of Moab and Ben-Ammi. Abraham marries his half-sister Sarah. One of Abraham's sons, Isaac, weds his second cousin Rebekah. Esau has two cousins among his many wives, and Jacob marries Rachel and Leah, his uncle Laban's daughters. His son, Judah impregnates his daughter Tamar, fathering the twin Perez and Zerah. Amran marries his aunt Jochebed, and they have Aaron and Moses. God himself orders Zelophehad's five daughters to marry within their clan, so they marry cousins born of the extended family of their father."

Jen acknowledged these facts with a nod. "I know." She herself had contributed half the information I'd mentioned as a result of her own research into incest. "But that doesn't make it right."

"What's wrong with it?"

"I'm your sister, Brad!"

"Yeah? So?"

"A brother and a sister don't fuck each other."

"Yes, they do."

"Well, they shouldn't."

I rolled my eyes, sighing. Jennifer is lovely, but, like any other woman, even at eighteen, she's exasperating at times. We'd been over and over this familiar territory, having debated this issue four or five times already. It always ended the same way--eventually. Jen decided that it was okay, after all, to have sex with her brother, and we'd resume our more than brotherly-and-sisterly relationship. She just needed reassurance. Despite her intellectual understanding that incest was not morally wrong, she still believed, deep in her heart, that there was something wrong about it, that not only was it taboo but that it also should be forbidden. She still had guilt feelings. Once again, exercising all the patience I'd accumulated over the years as my sister's sibling and, more lately, as her lover, I explained to her that all her concerns were needless. "You just feel guilty because, according to society--the society of our day and age, at least--incest is considered a no-no, and we're taught that it's immoral and sinful."

"It's illegal, too," Jen reminded me. "At least, our kind of incest is illegal--the kind between a brother and a sister."

"Some brothers and sisters are just closer than others," I argued. "They become more than just siblings, more than just friends."

"They don't fuck each other."

"Some do." Our conversation was starting to go round and round in circles. "Look," I said, "I'm going to my room. You think it over, and if you want to stop, we'll stop. If not, knock on my door, and I'll fuck your brains out."

She looked miffed at my choice of words. Apparently, it was all right for her to use the word "fuck" to describe our lovemaking, but it wasn't all right for me to do so, "We'll make love," I corrected myself.

"It's wrong," she muttered.

I looked at my soft, limp prick. Lifting it with my fingers, I held it up for my sister's inspection. "This is wrong," I remarked.

Jen smiled. It was a faint smile, but, at least, it was a smile. It gave me hope.

"Think it over," I repeated. "Let me know what you decide."

I rose, dressed, and walked to her door.

"Mom and Dad will be home in a few hours," I reminded my sister. They'd gone to the mall to do the last of their Christmas shopping and to buy Jen and me some stocking stuffers. Tomorrow morning, Santa was due to arrive. "If you decide to continue to be my girlfriend, I'd like to stuff your stocking with my candy cane."

Jen's pillow slammed into the doorframe, inches from my head, but my sister didn't look angry. Instead, she was smiling. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Get out!" she ordered, but in a friendly, jocular way.

I closed her door behind me.

An hour later, she knocked on my door.

"Come in," I invited, and, naked, my sister, as beautiful as ever, stepped into my bedroom. She walked across the carpet, her full, round breasts bobbing and her hips swiveling with every step. She climbed into my bed, and we kissed, our lips parting and our tongues probing one another's wet mouths. After a moment, she drew back. We held one another with a mutual gaze that was tender, intense, and full of love and passion.

"I thought it over," she said. Her voice was soft and sweet.

"I'm glad you came to your senses," I teased.

"Actually, I thought about D. H. Lawrence's poem, 'The Snake.'"

"You did?" I asked, not knowing what else to say.

She nodded. "Do you know the poem?"

"No," I confessed.

She recited a few lines of it. It was about a man's reaction to seeing a snake at the water trough he'd visited to slake his thirst. He'd thrown a log at it, chasing it back into its underground lair. At once, he'd regretted his action. Unthinkingly, he'd responded to the sight of the snake in accordance with the dictates of his "education," which informed him that golden snakes, like this one, were dangerous and should be killed. However, whether because of cowardice, perversity, or humility, the narrator could not bring himself to kill the serpent, and, instead, merely chased it off by tossing the log at him. Immediately, he'd felt sorry for his action, thinking his behavior petty and mean. The snake made him think of the albatross in Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poem, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, and he wished that the snake would return, for the serpent seemed to him to have been a god of the underworld. The poem concluded with the verse "And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords/ Of life./ I have something to expiate:/ A pettiness." After reciting the poem, Jen lifted my flaccid organ in her delicate, soft hand. "The poem made me think of this," she said.

I pretended to understand her. "Oh."

She wasn't fooled. "You don't have a clue as to what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Maybe if I read the poem," I ventured, "I would."

She smiled, looking gorgeous. "It doesn't matter."

Her hand clutched my soft, limp penis--my snake--more firmly. She pumped her fist up and down, pulling and pushing the tightening flesh back and forth upon my stiffening, swelling organ. Within moments, I was hard as a log.

Reaching into the drawer of my nightstand, she retrieved the last of my condoms. Holding its reservoir tip between the finger and thumb of one hand, she set the latex membrane within the rubber ring atop the glans of my erection, and scooted the material down, over the shaft of my penis with her other hand, which she held fisted around my organ. She was adept at the practice, and unrolling the condom took her only a moment. This condom was vanilla flavored. The others had been flavored, too--banana, raspberry, strawberry, orange, coconut, pineapple, and even chocolate. Jen loved to suck my cock, but she also enjoyed a fruity or candy-sweet taste. "You need to buy some more rubbers," she reminded me.

"I know."

"I need to get some more birth-control pills, too."

"Have you taken one?"

"Of course. I wouldn't be here if I hadn't."

The only downside to incest was the possibility of conceiving defective or handicapped children. Jen and I weren't risking a child, with or without birth defects or other problems. That's why I always wore a condom and she always took a birth-control pill. We wanted to be doubly careful.

Her ass facing me (so to speak), Jen straddled my stomach, kneeling with one knee on either side of my biceps, and rested her upper body upon her outstretched palms. Her breasts, soft, smooth, and warm, pressed against my belly. Bowing, she let her soft, smooth lips slide over and down my stiff, swollen shaft, taking my cock all the way into her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down as her she kneaded and rubbed my balls through the tight, silken flesh of my contracted scrotum.

Her labia formed a crescent that followed the curve between her ass and her belly. Even though the full, soft lips of her cunt were closed, I could see sparkling dewdrops upon these pink petals. My sister was as aroused as I was.

As Jen continued to face-fuck me, I hugged her hips, laying my outstretched palms across her backside and extending my fingers into the deep, narrow cleavage between the smooth, soft globes of her bottom. I pulled her buttocks apart, disclosing the tiny bud of her anus and the wet, tender petals of her pussy to my worshipful gaze. Although, during the half year that my sister and I had become lovers, I'd seen her cunt many times, I never tired of this loveliest of sights.

Pulling her buttocks farther apart, to gain easier access to her pussy, I licked the inner lips of her cunt--the labia minora--and the soft, tender folds of pink tissue farther inside her sex. Beads of moisture decorated her pussy lips. Deeper within the portal to my lover's vagina, there was more wetness. I lifted my head from the pillow, darting the tip of my tongue against the stiff bud of the clitoris that swelled within its fleshly hood. Jen wriggled as a flood of her cunt juices dribbled down her thighs.

As I ministered to her pussy, Jen continued to suck my cock. Her lips, forming a firm ring, pushed and pulled the taut flesh back and forth, up and down upon my straining shaft. My sister was an expert at sucking cock, knowing just when and for how long to exert greater pressure or to slow or quicken the tempo. As she serviced me, she also stroked my balls with her fingernails, pausing occasionally to bathe first one and then the other testicle in the warm, wet cavern of her mouth before releasing them to take my stiff-standing prick once more between her rounded lips.

As I licked Jen's labia, clit, and cunt, I also enjoyed the close-up view of her sexy ass. The only pair of buttocks that come close to hers in the elegance of their sleek, firm beauty are the smooth, rounded cheeks of Nicole Kidman's ass, as seen, for example, in the movie Eyes Wide Shut. If you've seen that film, you've seen the runner-up to my sister's ass. Even the lovely Nicole's bottom takes second place to Jen's. I love every inch of my sister's bottom--the deep cleavage; the curves of the swelling cheeks; the sleek, soft flesh of those firm, round mounds! To have Jen's ass in my face is indescribably erotic. Isn't it odd that something that would normally be considered insulting is, in the proper context, scintillatingly sensual and titillating?

Jen pushed herself up, drawing one leg over my head, and climbed off the bed. "I'm too horny," she confessed. "I need you to fuck me, fast and hard."

I was disappointed to have to forego cunnilingus, but I shrugged and smiled. "Okay, sis." What the hell, I told myself, fucking my sister was every bit as fun as eating her pussy.

"Just a sec," she said. She rummaged among my CD collection, slid a disc into the player, and, a moment later, Bing Crosby was dreaming about a white Christmas. Jen smiled. "A little mood music," she explained.

"That's nice," I said, but I didn't really care whether it was a Christmas song or hard rock that filled the bedroom. I was already in the mood for sex. When it came to fucking my sister, I was always in the mood, regardless of what kind of music--or whether any music at all--happened to be playing.

Jen smiled as she returned to bed.

I rolled onto my side, allowing her to lie on her back. Then, I rolled onto her, slipping my cock through her wet labia and into her sopping cunt. As Bing Crosby crooned, I started, gently and slowly, to fuck my sister. Drawing my hips back, I eased into her depths. Then, I eased back out again, until just the tip of my prick remained within her vagina. Tenderly, I slid my penis back into her pussy.

"Fuck me fast and hard, Brad," Jen encouraged me. "Be brutal."

I drew my hips back and plunged into Jen's wet center, thrusting as if my cock were a sword or a spear with which I was stabbing her as fiercely as a warrior would thrust his weapon into his enemy's entrails, as vicious as any animal would attack its helpless prey. Jen grunted under me, moaning as she thrust her hips up in short, quick motions to meet my advancing member. "Uh! Uh! Uh!" she cried. "Fuck me, Brad! Fuck me harder, faster!"

I quickened my pace, ramming my cock as hard and fast as I could into my sister's tender cunt. The bed bounced beneath my repeated onslaughts, the springs heaving as they sand along with Bing's refrain: "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas."

The springs were a fast, wild counterpoint to the slower cadence of his crooning. So were Jen's moans.

At this pace, I couldn't last long, and, after a few more stabbing thrusts into my sister's belly, my convulsing cock spewed its seed inside her. As my sperm had begun to spurt in thick jets, I'd raised my hips to thrust into Jen's pussy once more, but she was slick with lubricant, and my penis slid all the way out of her cunt, spraying her pubes and belly and breasts with the remnants of my semen, thick white streamers unfurling upon her golden flesh. There seemed no end to the reservoir of my seed. Jet after thick, warm jet of the viscid fluid spurted from my balls, decorating my sister's belly and thighs.

When the last flurry of my semen had fallen upon her sex, I let myself relax. My muscles went limp, and I eased myself down upon my sister, lying atop Jen. Our wild hearts beat as one, and our lungs labored with the common purpose of maintaining us during the period of our recuperation. We were joined, breast to breast and hip to hip by a thin film of sweat and by the glue of my semen. My penis, once more soft and limp, lay between us, a reminder of our union.

When I'd recovered my strength sufficiently to do so, I rolled off my sister, onto my side. I looked at her body, plastered with my cum.

She also surveyed her semen-splattered breasts, belly, pubes, cunt, and thighs.

"It looks as if I've made quite a mess," I quipped.

Bing Crosby continued to croon.

"It looks like we've had our white Christmas," Jen observed, smiling at the semen that decorated her flesh.

In the morning, we went downstairs, before Mom and Dad awakened from their slumbers, to find that, in the wee hours of the night, as Jen and I had lain in one another's arms, Santa had, indeed, visited our house and, since Jen and I had been good, the jolly old elf had left presents for us under the tree. In addition, Mom and Dad had stuffed our stockings with small presents, among which, for me, was an assortment of condoms in various flavors and, for Jen, a package of birth-control pills.

"They know," Jen said, sounding anxious.

I held up the condoms. "They're okay with it, too," I said.

Jen and I, standing under the sprig of mistletoe over the doorway on either side of which our stockings had been hung, were kissing when Mom and Dad came downstairs, and it wasn't the chaste kiss of siblings but the open-mouthed, wet kiss with which lovers signify and seal their sexual passion for one another.

"Merry Christmas," Mom said.

We turned to face our parents.

They were both smiling.

"Merry Christmas," Dad echoed.

"Merry Christmas," Jen and I replied.

"Thanks for the stocking stuffers," I added.

Mom and Dad had crossed the living room to join us. Dad kissed Jen's cheek, and Mom pecked mine.

"You're welcome," they said.

They'd turned on the radio, and we could hear Bing sing, "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas."

I looked out the window. Last night, it had snowed. Frozen tree branches glittered like diamonds; the world had been transformed into a winter's wonderland of dazzling snow.

"I'll make us some hot chocolate," Mom volunteered.

"And then we'll open our presents," Dad added.

"That sounds great, doesn't it, Brad?" Jen asked.

"It sure does," I agreed, thinking to myself, I already have the greatest presents any guy could want--my sister's love and my parents' acceptance. 



Stocking Tales: Blackmailed Wife



Summary: Sweet teacher's naughty photos end up in a stranger's hands.

Note 1: Thanks to Sweet Daisy Haze for allowing her photos particularly from the following photo shoots to be used for this mammoth story:

Mind Control App Makes Your Assistant Suck and Fuck!

Daisy REALLY needs a job

Pin-Up Vintage POV Eye Contact and Pretty Feet in YOUR Face

Forced Deepthroat for Hooters Shift

Note 2: Thanks to Robert, goamz86, and Wayne for editing this story.

Note 3: This is a Halloween 2015 Contest story so please vote. That said, the focus is more on costumes than Halloween itself (although Halloween is involved at the end).

"Stocking Tales": Blackmailed Wife

Hi, this is me.



This is the 'me' that my friends and family see.

On the other hand, this is what I wore to school yesterday, although my hair was in one ponytail at school instead of the two I changed in to once I got home.

Now you may wonder why I was at school yesterday.



I have been mistaken on occasion, although it's getting rarer, as a high school student.

I have been mistaken constantly as a college student.

The reality is that I am actually a grade twelve teacher.

This picture was taken during one of my many role play adventures with my husband.

I am a teacher and look as sweet and innocent as a teacher should look.

That said, I love to be an enigma. I often go without panties at school, I often wear thigh highs underneath my conservative attire and on occasion when my hubby shoots a morning load on my tits', I go to school with dried cum on me.

These secret sins of sexuality are my own way of keeping my days from the mundanity of everyday life.

And I am definitely not the prude that some students or parents may think.



At school I am firm and no nonsense.

At home I am submissive and an eager slut.

I love sucking cock. I mean I really love it.

I also love cum. I love swallowing it. I love rubbing it on my body. I even love facials... it feels so slutty, so completely different than my usual day to day life.

When my husband Tyler isn't home for a few days, I go through withdrawal.

I also love long hard fuck sessions and will sometimes on special occasions or when I've had one too many glasses of wine, take it in the ass.

We have filmed a few sex videos for our own enjoyment. I somehow get even hornier when a camcorder is filming me... My inner porn star is allowed to come out to play, which is exhilarating (such a role reversal from the hours of seriousness of teaching).

Tyler had also taken lots of photos of me in many a naughty position over the past year and a half... and it really seemed to spark our already pretty damn hot sex life.

That said, the photos and the videos all started rather innocently. I was bored one day and missing Tyler, so I sent him a sexy, slightly teasing photo as I hammed it up for the camera. Sexy smiles, puckered lips, my nerdy high school glasses, plaid skirt and sexy panties.



This led to me posing for him when he was home one night after a few drinks.

This became a regular activity for us (whether he was home or away).

The photos were for teasing and were considered early foreplay for us.

Over time, the photos got sexier... and I started to get more risqué.

I posed sexily in only a bra and panties.

I posed bent over to showcase my fine ass.

I posed cupping my breasts without a bra, but still not really showing anything.

Then, of course, I allowed my breasts to be photographed. Tyler kept nagging me, promising he would delete them later.

And always wanting to please him, I reluctantly agreed.

The first one was more of a tease.



Of course... Tyler wanted more. Especially when he was stuck in a hotel.

And truthfully, once I posed showcasing my tits, I wanted to do more.

I felt like a Playboy bunny as I posed in so many different positions.

Feeling liberated getting my tits photographed, I even began walking around the house topless sometimes, even when Tyler wasn't home.

It was liberating.

I vacuumed the house topless; I watched television with Tyler topless; I made breakfast topless.



Then, feeling wild and adventurous one lonely day when rather horny, I took a selfie at home after work which was just slightly more provocative and texted it to him with a naughty message:

Three holes waiting for attention!



Knowing he was flying home at the moment, he would get a great surprise once he got off the plane and checked his messages.

As expected, it worked. He texted back profoundly:

Holy shit!

I texted back naughtily, playing on his two word reply:

I hope you plan to fuck the shit out of my holes, baby.

Not surprisingly, the photo worked and Jeremy indeed fucked all three of my holes that night, depositing his load in my ass after the marathon session.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before Tyler wanted to go further and take shots of my ass.

Somehow this seemed more risky and more vulnerable and at first I protested.

As he pounded me from behind one night he said, "Come on, Daisy. I need a shot of that perfect ass of yours when I'm alone at the hotel."

My eyes went wide. "You're not deleting them?"

"Most of them," he said, which I would later learn was a lie, "but I do have a couple of favourites to drool over while I stroke myself at night."

"Really?" I asked, somehow feeling flattered that when he was alone in a hotel, he was jerking off to me and not to online porn.

"Oh yeah, baby," he moaned, as he kept fucking me.

He wouldn't let me come until I promised to pose for him. Being flattered and being a submissive, I eventually gave in like I always did, unable to ever say no to him.

That said, I bargained and in the end I agreed to pose wearing panties... skimpy panties, nervous to have my pussy or rosebud uncovered.



That was followed by a shot of me in a thong.



Al first, I hid my face, feeling this was a bit too provocative.

Then, of course, I showed my face.

That said, I need to clarify, I'm not a slut.



Besides Tyler, I have only been with two other guys: losing my virginity at prom (I know, how stereotypical can I get?) and my college boyfriend of just over two years.

That also said, I love being a slut for him.

Although I often protested many of his extreme sexual suggestions, I always eventually gave in.

As mentioned, many of these nasty adventures were filmed or photographed.



Ironically, no one who knows me would possibly fathom I was anything but a typical young sweet wife and teacher... which only enhanced the thrill of being such a nasty slut for my husband.

Anyway, my husband was out of town like he often is, and at a hotel when I decided to dress up in my newest costume for him, a very sexy good girl Belle, for some Skype playtime.

I asked once we were face to face. "Horny, baby?"

He laughed, "I likely can be."

I moved the computer back and leaned back for a pose that let him see what I was dressed as. "How about now?"

He smiled, "Lift off has been achieved."

"Let me see," I purred. I can't explain it but I love the look of a nice hard cock... Although I have only been with three men, I often spent my lonely nights when my hubby was gone googling cocks. I love the different lengths, different girths, the variety of colours by race, and the plethora of shapes (curved, straight, etc). Like snowflakes, no two are alike.

He pulled out his semi-erect six inch cock and asked, "Is my bride hungry?"

I loved that he still called me his bride, even though we had been married for over four years.

I answered, "I'm completely famished."

He nodded, "I could use a nice long blow job."

"Too bad you're not here to fuck my face with that big dick of yours," I teased, loving talking dirty and really enjoying the slutty exhilaration of getting face fucked, especially after a full day of teaching teenagers. Although I love my job, I always have to be on at school, so sometimes I just want to be told what to do.

"Where would I shoot my cum?" He asked.

He shot buckets. More than almost any porn star I had ever witnessed and he loved to spray his seed as if marking his territory.

Over the years he had come on almost every part of my body: I've had a plethora of facials where I literally felt I may drown in cum; I've had my tits splattered, my ass sprayed and my nylon feet coated. He has even shot his entire load on my forehead and filmed as his cum slowly meandered and dripped down my face like the slowest waterfall ever.

Strangely, I loved it. I loved the slutty act of being covered in cum. I also loved spreading cum all over my body as if it was soap.

I flashed back to one of the first times he treated me not as his girlfriend, this was before we were married, but some cheap cum slut. Shockingly, the rough treatment was what began my revelation as a submissive with a desire to please at all costs. 

He roughly fucked my face for an eternity, before shooting his load in my mouth so roughly, I gagged and had to spit it out, even as he kept spewing like a firehose trying to put out a fire with cum.



I looked down and saw that my work blouse had big gobs of cum on it, even as he shot more cum on me.

"Never spit out my cum," he scolded.

"Pull out then," I quipped, annoyed at having my favourite blouse coated with cum, even as another rope hit me on the chin.

He said, "No, you get used to taking it all down your throat."

"Really?" I said, half pissed at his presumptuous attitude, and yet also surprisingly turned on at being treated like a slut.



"Yes, he nodded, "Plus, you look fucking hot as hell coated in cum."

"I feel like I got hit with a water balloon of cum," I quipped, having just taken a six day load of his seed.

"Now retrieve my cum you wasted, my sexy slut," he ordered, "I would hate for any of my almost week long build up to be wasted."

"That would be a shame," I agreed, as I scooped some cum of my chin.

"No, no, no," he said, shaking his head. "Get the cum that is on the floor."

"You're serous?" I asked.

"You should have swallowed it all," he said firmly.

Although again I was partly pissed at his treatment of me, my pussy was on fire and I, even though I knew I shouldn't have, lowered myself to the floor and licked up the puddle of cum that was there.

I felt so dirty and cheap.

Yet, I also felt oddly liberated.

It felt unexplainably good to just let go and obey. My day to day college life (I was in my last year of college at the time) was so structured that I didn't allow myself to really have fun.

I also felt a strong desire to obey... to turn him on.

"So fucking hot," he repeated, before adding, "and slutty."

"So hot and slutty," I quipped sarcastically.

"Brat," he said.

I kept licking up the cum from the floor as he purred, "Good girl. Lick that floor completely clean. I don't want a single drop of my cum wasted."

"I would never waste such a precious commodity," I replied, as I sucked up the rest of the cum, lapping the floor like a dog licking his food bowl.

When I sat back up, still on my knees, her asked, "Fuck, I think you are worthy of marrying."

I laughed, thinking he was kidding, "Is that an offer?"



He shrugged, "Well, since you're on your knees and asking... sure."

"Are you serious?" I asked, suddenly unsure if he was joking.

He dropped to his knees and pulling something out of his pocket said, "I actually planned to ask you tonight at dinner, but this moment, with you coated in cum, is too hard to resist. Will you marry me?"

I couldn't believe it. Yet, I didn't hesitate, "Yes, yes, yes."

Returning to reality, I responded, in submissive mode, a mode I had been in ever since the unorthodox marriage proposal, "You're the boss. The better question is where would you shoot that cannon of cum?"

I could see him stroking faster and knew he was likely going to come soon.

"Well, you came all over my face before you left," I pointed out.

"That's true," he nodded.

"And the time before that you shot your load up my shit hole," I said, being as nasty as I could, knowing that always accelerated his orgasm.

"Oh God, yes," he groaned.



I then repositioned myself, and pulled my tits out and posed, "Or how about my titties? Do you want to create a river of cum down the valley of tits?"

"Damn baby," he moaned, "you're driving me crazy."

Going further, I leaned close, my eager cocksucking lips now the focus as I purred, my tone as slutty sexy as I could make it, "Or do you want to give my face a new coat of cum paint?"

"Fuck," he grunted, his legs stiffening, his load seconds away from eruption.

"Or would you rather just shove that cock in my mouth and face fuck me, your balls bouncing off my chin, until you deposit your protein down my throat?"

"Fuck," he grunted as his cum rocketed straight up in the air.

Briefly forgetting we were hundreds of miles apart, I opened my mouth to catch his cum, banging my head on the laptop.

Damn, I sighed, I want that cock. I want that cum.

I began rubbing myself, wanting to get off too.

"Come for me, my slut," he ordered, always knowing exactly when to switch from sweet to dominant.

"Yes, baby," I moaned. "I sure wish you were here to fuck all three of my holes tonight. Your slut is craving a three hole pounding.

"Maybe a deep fisting?" He questioned.

"Right up to the elbow," I replied, frantically frigging myself.

"What would your father say if he knew his only daughter was a fist taking, ass begging, cum craving, slut?"

"Oh, God," I groaned, a naughty play on words as my father was a catholic minister. My orgasm was imminent and I begged, "Wash away my sin, baby, with a baptism by cum."

"Now worship The Lord by releasing the devil's sin," he ordered, our most common role play with religious undertones.

"Yes," I screamed, as my orgasm hit me.

Once I recovered, we chatted briefly about our days before he insisted on going to bed... it was two hours later where he was.

I got into pajamas and went and watched Netflix, like I usually did when home alone.

.....

I was at school, just after lunch, when I got a text. I didn't check it, as I never check my phone when I am teaching.

Yet, it kept buzzing.

I told my teacher assistant I had to quickly deal with something and headed to the teacher washroom.

Once alone, I clicked the five messages:

Is this Daisy?

Daisy the high school teacher.

The sweet innocent teacher that has a naughty secret?

The third message sent a chill down my spine.

The fourth text was a picture of me. A playful sweet picture that I had taken for Tyler last Christmas.



The last text:

Cute picture. You look so wholesome and sweet, except for the dildo behind you!!!



I looked at the picture again. I then looked at the phone number (which was blocked).

I texted back:

Who is this?

After a minute, the stranger responded back with another picture (one I took a few months ago to tease my hubby), followed by a message.

Nice tits. I bet your high school students have fantasized about those perky tits.

Can you take that whole sucker in your mouth, slut?

Two feelings coursed through me:

-Anger

-Anxiety

I was furious at this person's name calling and smugness; yet, I also saw my career coming to a crashing end if these photos got out.

I questioned again:

Who is this?

No response.

I texted again:

Please leave me alone.

I returned to class stressed. Who was this? What did he want (assuming it was a he)? How did he get those pictures?

When the bell rang for break. I called Tyler. But he didn't answer.

I sighed and left a message:

Please call me as soon as you get this. It is urgent.

I was completely stressed and with only an hour left in the school day, I went to my principal and asked if he could get someone to cover my last class as I wasn't feeling well... which was definitely true.

Thankfully, she found someone to cover me, and I quickly headed home. As soon as I was in my car, I received another blackmail text from the person.

Another picture. This one from a while ago, after Tyler had suggested that he would love to watch me with another woman (something I have done a few times since this picture was taken).



Another message.

So is this for Principal Wilson or that cute first year Chemistry teacher Ms. Hamilton?

"Oh, God," I said to myself, Ms. Hamilton (Carrie), indeed one of the three women I had been with. It was also our first threesome (Tyler and I actually double penetrated her, which was fucking cool).

Another text:

I can leave you alone. But that will mean I am putting these pictures on the internet. Maybe creating a website.




Stocking Tales: Blackmailed Wife



God, I wish I could get a hold of Tyler. I quickly called him again as my stomach turned. Again, no answer, which only added to my frustration.

I had no idea what to say. So I didn't respond, hoping to get some time to talk to Tyler and somehow figure out who had these compromising pictures of me.

Another picture (from the same timeframe of the strap-on picture when I had dyed my hair pink to feel younger), another text:



Is this what you wore to work today?

I again ignored the texts as I drove home.

I almost got into an accident when I received another text.

I ignored it.

Another text.

I turned the radio up and focused on the road.

Once I got home, I went in the house and called Tyler once again.

When he didn't answer, I left another message:

Please, please, please call me!!!

Although I didn't want to, I clicked on the missed messages.

Another picture and a couple messages. This photo much more recent, having been taken just last month when I did a naughty Skype video for Tyler. That said, there were no pictures taken of this.



'Oh, fuck!' This is a capture from a video.

The messages:

Good news, slut! My dick is bigger than your dildo and your husband. I'm sure you will love it in that cock sucking mouth of yours, that sweet inviting cunt, and that apparently willing ass.

And the more you ignore me, the more likely it is I may put some of these online for the world to see.

I was completely rattled.

My life was potentially over. Tears streamed down my face as reality set in.

Again, I wondered how this person, now clearly a male, could have these private photos. How careless had Tyler been? Or was it my fault somehow? Was my computer compromised? I grabbed a bottle of wine, poured myself a glass and downed half of it as if it was water.

I was about to respond, when another text and message came.

This may be the kinkiest picture I have ever seen. Is there anything you won't do?



"Shit," I cursed to myself.

This was a one-time thing (well two, actually) when I was completely drunk just a couple of months ago. Tyler, after a lengthy fucking and coming all over my tits, needed to piss and I offered him to piss in my mouth, wanting to try something new. The nasty task was exhilarating and humiliating, yet something I enjoyed... the taste even surprisingly pleasant. That said, I would never do that sober... I don't think.

Yet, looking at the picture for the first time... I did indeed look like a dirty slut.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Another picture; another text. This one also quite recent as I tried to go back to the 1950s vintage pin-up look that Tyler loved.



Why not more photos like this... in nylons. The first ones you send me better be in stockings.

My eyes went wide.

He was expecting me to send him pictures!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Another picture, another text.

Like seriously, how many of these did he have?

This one was after a school girl role play where he came on me once and made me wear it on my face until he was hard again and shot a second load all over me.



You better respond back soon or I'll take that as an indicator you are okay with having your compromising photos all over the internet. Like this one. Seriously, how much cum does your husband shoot?

I had no idea what to say.

My face was pale as a ghost, even though I was fuming with the hatred of a million fires inside.

Fuck! Where the hell was Tyler?

Worried he wasn't bluffing, I asked:

What do you want from me?

He texted back with another picture and a message:

Isn't it obvious? My own online pet. Plus, you already have the leash and collar.

I sighed.

Another compromising photo. This time of me in slight bondage as my husband actually led me around the house like a puppy. That role play was humiliating, which somehow made it equally as stimulating.



Thankfully, the picture he sent didn't have me crawling around like a dog. Although, he likely had more photos of me in this collar and leash.

Oddly, as I recalled these crazy nights of sexual submission and role playing, my pussy got wet. I shook my head as I focused on my current predicament.

I was being blackmailed.

I had no idea by who.

I had no clue how he had got a hold of all these pictures and likely video.

I had no idea what his objective was. Being his online pet wouldn't be the end of the world, if I could guarantee he wouldn't release any of these pictures or video or any new ones he made.

Christ. Was I really thinking I would submit to this stranger?

I really was stressed to the core.

Adding to the frustration was Tyler not responding to my calls. Where the hell was he?

Compounding the frustration was the fact I couldn't call any of my friends. They knew nothing about this side of me.

Before I could respond, even though I had no idea what I was going to say, another photo and another text:

I think we could have some fun role playing. Your husband is gone lots and I have lots of free time to give you the attention you obviously crave and need.

I can be the prisoner who teaches a cop a lesson, for example.



Another photo from a while ago. Actually one of the first costumes I had bought to surprise Tyler when he came home after a long trip.

The handcuffs were a fun touch. First on him as I sucked his cock and rode him for my own personal pleasure. Then later on me as he took turns fucking my pussy and ass, even trying something new at one point as he fisted my pussy slightly while fucking my ass.

I texted back, hoping there was an easy way out:

Is it money? I can pay.

He replied back almost immediately, with another photo, one of me with a mouthful of cum, which could have been from any number of role play nights and another message:

Oh, you will pay. With those three fuck holes of yours.

And I'll pay by depositing my load in that hungry mouth of yours.



You must be starving for some cum by now!

I got even more worried. Was he implying even more than just online?

Suddenly pleasing him online seemed like not only a feasible idea, but a good option.

I texted back:

What would you expect of me?

He responded back:

Online obedience.

I texted back:

What does that even mean?

He responded back:

You're a teacher, you understand exactly what I mean. I tell you to do something and you do it. Just imagine I am the teacher and you are the student.

I sighed to myself.

What choice did I have?

Suddenly my cell rang.

"Tyler, thank God," I greeted, frantic.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No," I replied, instantly beginning to cry.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Between tears and snorts, I don't cry well, I explained everything that happened.

There was a long silence at the end of the line.

"Well, say something," I demanded, as another text came, which I ignored.

"This is my fault," he said, his voice sounding broken.

"Tell me," I demanded, needing to know how.

"When I realized I didn't have my phone this morning I assumed I left it in the hotel. Yet, now that I really think about it, my hotel room key was with my cell phone," he said.

That explains why he hadn't returned my calls. I asked, even though I knew the answer, "Please tell me you didn't have photos of me on your phone that you shouldn't."

"I do," he said, his voice dripping with guilt. "But that isn't the worst part."

"What could be worse?" I asked, terrified to know.

"I will know when I get to the hotel, but I am guessing he broke into the hotel room and took my laptop," he said.

"Oh God," I said, completely deflated.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he cursed.

"And you have lots of pictures on there of me?" I asked, again knowing the answer, the evidence pretty clear.

"Quite a few," he whispered.

"Define 'quite a few'," I said, my tone terse.

"All of them," he answered.

"Like all, all?" I asked, the terrible situation getting worse.

"Yes," he whispered, so quiet I barely heard him.

"And the videos?" I asked, again assuming the obvious.

"Yes, those too," he admitted.

Another text.

"The asshole is texting me," I said, venom in my tone now.

"What is he saying now?" Tyler asked.

"I don't know, it's probably more compromising pictures or demands," I snapped, as I clicked on the update on my phone to check.

It was indeed another photo and a message. Two actually.



It was a photo of a role play earlier this year when we redid Pirates of the Caribbean.

This photo was tame compared to earlier ones sent.

His texts were:

This looks like a fun role play.

I'm guessing you have a lot of outfits to perform in for me.

I said to Tyler, "Another fucking picture."

"Of me in the pirate's costume," I answered.

"That isn't that bad," he said.

"He fucking sent one of me with my mouth open catching your urine," I snapped, frustrated even more by his lack of urgency.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he repeated.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"At the conference, at a payphone," he answered.

"Well, get a cab and get back to the hotel so you can find out if it's been stolen," I said.

"Okay," he said, "I'll call you when I get back to the hotel."

"Hurry," I demanded, and hung up.

Another picture and another text.



I couldn't even recall when this one was taken.

His text:

This seems to be a position you should regularly be in for me. That way all three of your fuck-holes are available for me.

I texted back:

You stole my husband's computer! We are going to the police.

He replied back with a flurry of texts:

First, your husband shouldn't leave his hotel card with his phone.

Second, your husband should have a better password than 1234.

Third, you probably shouldn't pose like such a slut; you likely also shouldn't film pornographic videos... although the couple I have watched have been very enjoyable. I mean, for a teacher you sure can pull off porn star.

Fourth, if you call the cops at all, I will send these pictures and videos online and you will be an overnight porn sensation.

Like how would your principal and your board feel about pictures such as this one:

I stared at the picture. One I hadn't seen before, even though I recalled the role play encounter. I often deep throated Tyler, but this was the first time I took it all in and just held a pose. As usual, it was a slutty act, which, as usual, turned me on.

That said, looking at the picture, which was undoubtedly me, like most of the other pictures he had already sent, I knew if any of these got out I would be unemployed instantly and not hirable in the teaching system anywhere in the city, state and, likely, country. Christ, its likely I wouldn't get a teaching job anywhere in the world.

Except maybe Van Nuys, where a majority of the porn movies were filmed (don't even ask how I know such a thing).

Another text and picture. This one another of the humiliating kind. The only other time I had drunk piss, again quite intoxicated, although this was just a couple of weekends ago, after being in the hot tub:



Or this?

Then another text and picture:



Or this?

A picture of me dressed up a little goth like and my face covered in cum, although a lot more was on the floor. Which he made me lick up after, as he pointed out I should never waste his cum.

The litany of pictures continued:

Or this? Do you like being choked?



I remembered this picture and it is the one thing that at first I didn't like.

Another text, this time without a picture.

These, of course, are just a few of the nasty ones. There are pictures of that pussy, pictures with cock in all three of your holes and even a picture of your husband, I assume its your husband, fisting you.

PS: You can sure take a lot up that cunt of yours!

Mortified, I texted:

Please, stop.

He texted back:

I expect you in nylons and ready to Skype in five minutes or the website I discussed goes live. Be sure to check it out if you wish. I already have purchased the domain.

I was freaking out.

I quickly checked my computer and typed in the url I couldn't forget... being my name and all.

Sure enough it existed.

With a construction sign.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

I had no choice.

He texted me back, asked for my Skype name, and I reluctantly gave it to him.

I found an outfit that I thought was sexy, yet not too edgy, and had stockings.

I then waited with trepidation, turning my Skype on.

A chill of anxiety went up my back when the annoying Skype sound came on.

I took a deep breath and pressed the button.



There was no image of him, but I heard his voice... slightly distorted.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"What?" I asked, not even pretending to hide my contempt.

"Are those nylons?" he questioned.

"You said stockings," I pointed out.

"No," he said, "I said nylons. Fishnets are for prostitutes. Are you a prostitute?"

"No," I said, tersely, anger bubbling inside me quickly.

"Good, because I have no intention of paying you," he said. "Although based on the toys on your bed, I'm assuming that you were getting pretty excited."

I responded, making it crystal clear that was not the case, "That was just from last night." The truth was this was the spare bedroom, where I often Skyped with Tyler at night because it's where the computer was. My laptop was so slow that it often froze up, which was why I was using it now... hoping for a bad connection.

"Either way," he said, "I am logging off and will be back on in five minutes and I expect you in nylons."

"Fine!" I snapped, making my point.

"Be good, Daisy, or your photos and videos go viral," he warned and logged off.

"Fuck!" I cursed, as I began getting undressed.

I went to my dresser and realized I didn't have many sheer nylons. Most were patterned, although I did have a white pair from my wedding four years ago. I also had a beige pair.

I grabbed the beige stockings, hooked them to a garter-belt and changed into a less slutty, but sexy, outfit. I figured I had to play nice at least until Tyler called.

I moved to the couch in another room, set-up my laptop and waited.



When he returned, he immediately approved. "That is much better."

"I'm happy you like," I sarcastically said, as I dangled the heel of my shoe, trying not to look at the computer.

"I'd avoid the sarcasm, slut," he said firmly. "I'm a patient man, but you are already pushing my limits."

"Sorry," I said, deciding to play along as best I could.

"Now let me see those toes," he ordered.

I allowed my heel to drop and asked, "You mean these toes?"

"Very nice," he approved, "and painted too."



"I'm happy you like," I lied.

"Good girl," he said, not catching on to my lie.

"Are we done here?" I asked.

"Not even close," he laughed.

"I am expecting a call from my husband," I said.

"I bet you are," he said, "but at the moment you should be focused on being my online pet."

"Fine," I sighed.

"Now let me see both of your legs and feet in those sexy nylons," he ordered.

I slipped out of my other heel and moved to show both feet.

"No, no, no," he said, annoyed. "Get on your back and put your feet in the air."

"Fine," I said, annoyed. "Is this better?" I asked.



"Very nice," he approved. "You have very sexy legs."

"Thanks," I said. Although I was being blackmailed and this guy was a fucking creep, I did like compliments.

"Those are some sexy nylons too," he said.

"I wore them for a wedding last year," I said, not sure why I thought this was information he needed to know.

"I'm sure Tyler approved," he said.

"How do you know my husband's name?" I asked.

"Same way I know where you work," he answered. "Google."

"Yep, the internet is the perfect place to stalk," I quipped.

"I suppose that is true," he chuckled softly.

"Now massage one foot," he said.

"Okay," I said, the order rather strange.



"Yes," he groaned.

Fuck! Was he jerking off to me?

Shit! Of course he was.

I massaged my foot for a minute, which actually felt nice. I loved when Tyler massaged my feet.

"Now let me see the sole of your stocking foot," he ordered.

I thought 'this guy is fucked up', but obeyed as so far this Skype session was rather PG.

"I want a better look," he said. "move your camera above you."

"How?" I asked.

"Put it on top of the TV stand and angle the computer down," he ordered.

'How would he know that?' I thought to myself.

I asked the question. "How do you know I have a TV stand there?"

"Do you?" he asked.

"Yes, but," I began, but was cut off.

"Just do it," he ordered. "I don't have all day."

"Fine," I again sighed, stood up and moved the laptop to a new position. It took a couple of tries, but I got the laptop in the right position.

"Good, now show me that sole. Put your foot right up in the air."




Stocking Tales: Blackmailed Wife



"Okay," I said, baffled by how this could be turning him on.



"Wiggle that foot." He ordered.

I did.

"No, no," he said. "The toes, wiggle the toes."

"Oh," I said, still unsure what he really wanted.

"Nice," he said, as I wiggled my toes up in the air.

"Now both feet."

"Both feet what?" I asked.

"Show me both of your feet and your sexy toes," he ordered.

"Okay," I again agreed, baffled by the purpose of this.

Although it was awkward and uncomfortable, I lifted both feet up and posed them for him.

"Now bend your knees so I can get a good close up of those toes," he ordered.

I obeyed, which made me even more uncomfortable.



"Oh yeah," he groaned. "Perfect! Now hold that pose."

I did for a while as he didn't say a word.

I hoped he was jerking off and this was almost over.

He then surprised me by saying, "Now get onto your knees."

I almost laughed. It's not like I could suck his cock.

But I obeyed, baffled by this entire experience.

"Now look up and beg to suck my cock," he ordered.

"Seriously?" I asked, this getting silly.

"Just do it," he said.

I listlessly said in a monotone voice, "May I please suck your dick?"

"You better do better than that," he said. "And, on second thought, sit on your ass, you are too close to the camera now."

"Make up your mind," I sighed.

"Shut up, slut," he ordered.

I glared at him, but didn't say anything.

"Now look up at me and make it look like you're sucking my cock," he ordered.

I had no idea how to do such a thing, but I tried.



"Not bad," he said, but the angle is off. "Try a different position."

"Like what?" I asked.

"On your stomach and sprawled out on your sofa," he suggested.

"Okay," I sighed again. "but I'll have to move the laptop."

"Okay," he said.

So I repositioned the laptop to a bar chair close to the couch.

I lay down and looked up at him.

"All I see are your feet," he said, before adding, "not that that is a bad thing."



I sighed, "This is getting frustrating."

"Tell me about it," he said.

I got up and moved the laptop again and asked, still standing, "Does this get the entire couch?"

"Not quite," he said, "but it is close."

Another thirty seconds later and he said, "You have it."

"About fucking time," I said.

"Get on the couch," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," I sarcastically quipped.

"Sir, I like that," he said.

'Fuck' I thought to myself, why couldn't I keep my mouth shut?

"Now look up sexily," he ordered.

I tried.

"Is that your sexy look?" he asked.

"It is when I am being blackmailed," I replied.

"Well, you better try harder and look like you're having fun or say goodbye to your career," he threatened.

Like I faked orgasms during high school, I faked having fun.



"Now was that so hard?" he asked.

"A little," I answered truthfully.

He then annoyed me again. "Actually, I want a close up of your pretty mouth. I need you to put the laptop right on the end of the sofa."

"You really want me to move the laptop again?" I asked.

"Last time. I promise," he said.

"Better be," I said, annoyed, although thankful he hadn't made me show him my tits or pussy.

I moved the laptop and he asked for the same pose. "Now look like you're sucking my cock."

"Okay," I said.

After a minute, he said, "Do you have any popsicles?"

"I think so," I replied.

"Go get one," he ordered.

"Really?" I asked again.

"Hurry up," he ordered.

Why didn't I say no?

I went to the kitchen and grabbed a pink Popsicle.

I returned, knowing exactly what he was going to expect from me.

"Now suck it like it's my dick," he ordered.

"Are you that thin?" I asked, unable to not take the shot.

"You'll learn soon enough," he smugly replied.

My eyes went wide.

"Do you want to see it now?" he asked.

"Not really," I answered.

"You sure?" he questioned. "I'm told I'm rather well endowed."

"By who?" I asked. "Other people you blackmail?"

"You're my first blackmail," he said.

"I'm flattered," I quipped.

"Enough witty banter. Now suck, slut," he ordered.

So I did. Bobbing slowly on the Popsicle.

"Oh yeah," he groaned.

I closed my eyes and tried to forget I was being watched.

"Look at me, slut," he demanded.

I opened my eyes and sucked on the pretend cock.



"Oh yeah," he groaned, "such a pretty mouth."

I kept bobbing, sensing he was close and this humiliating ordeal would be over soon.

I was right.

"Faster, slut," he ordered.

I obeyed, taking most the popsicle in my mouth.

"Oh yeah," he groaned, "such a good slut."

'Come, damn it,' I thought to myself 'and end this fucking ordeal.'

A minute later, he groaned, "Oh yes, take it all slut. Swallow my cum."

Thankful it was likely over, I kept bobbing until he said, "That was awesome."

I sarcastically quipped, "Yes, I'm completely fulfilled."

"Funny you should say that," he said, his tone ominous.

"Why is that?" I asked, with trepidation.

"Because someone will be over there soon to get laid," he said.

"Excuse me?" I questioned.

I put a Craigslist ad up for you," he said. "I'll text it to you."

"You what?" I gasped, mortified.

He didn't answer, but a moment later I heard my phone buzz in another room.

I got up and grabbed my phone. I nervously clicked the text which had a link to a Craigslist post.

Reluctantly I clicked it.

"Oh my God," I said out loud as I read the ad.

Submissive Wife Craving Cum

Hubby is away,

My kitty needs to play.

Come on over and use me as a slut.

I was furious.

I returned to my laptop and roared, "How dare you?"

"You had over forty replies in five minutes," he said. "It was actually tough to choose just one."

"I'm done," I roared.

"You sure?" he asked. "Here is a picture I sent to the lucky winner."



"Oh my God," I gasped, wondering when this was going to end.

"I imagine that is what he said," he chuckled. "He should be there in twenty minutes."

"I'm not fucking some stranger," I firmly said.

"You will do what he says and do it on film," he ordered with a sigh, "or all these pictures go viral."

I didn't know what to say.

He continued, "And I want you in a new sexy outfit with nylons."

"Yeah, right," I said.

"Actually, go change now," he ordered.

"Whatever," I said, praying my husband would be calling soon.

I went to my bedroom and sighed, tears again in my eyes. I changed into the white wedding thigh highs and a cute dress that was sexy, but not really slutty.



I returned to the living room and he said, "Nice, but let's take this to the bedroom."

I sighed, but grabbed the laptop and returned to the bedroom.

"Put the laptop where I can see the whole bedroom," he ordered.

"Put your glasses on," he ordered, "I want to see the sweet, nerdy, teacher version of you."

I grabbed them and put them on.

"Pose for me," he ordered.

I did, even as I wondered why the hell Tyler hadn't called yet.

"Very nice," he purred.

"Can we just leave it between you and me?" I asked, not wanting to have someone come to my home.

Suddenly the doorbell rang.

"Not saved by the bell," he joked. "Go get it and bring him to your room."

"Please don't make me do this," I pleaded.

"Now, slut," he said coldly, "Be a good slut and I won't send over any of the other forty plus candidates."

"Fine," I said, sensing he wasn't bluffing.

I walked to my front door, nervous as hell.

I took a deep breath, wishing I had a peep hole, and opened the door.

I gasped. "Jeremy."

"Hi, Mrs. Haze," he smiled.

Jeremy was a student who was in my class last year. A strong student, a great linebacker, who was ridiculously handsome and had flirted with me non-stop throughout the year. That said, my biggest fantasy had always been to be seduced by a student, something we often role played. Tyler even knew that I had a crush on him.

"What can I do for you?" I asked, being casual and hoping this was just a major coincidence.

"I'm here to give you the load you're craving," he answered.

"This is a mistake," I said.

"No, this is two years of fantasy becoming reality," he said, as he walked into my home.

"Jeremy, I," I began, my pussy burning at the reality this hot ex-student was in my home... yet I was a married woman.

"Bedroom now," he ordered, with a firmness that made my pussy leak.

"I, um, okay," I babbled, my head spinning with lust and guilt. I led him to my bedroom and he complimented, "You're still as hot as I remember."

Before I could even think, I responded, "As are you."

"Did you ever fantasize about me, Mrs. Haze?" he asked, as he walked in front of me.

"I don't fantasize and tell," I joked, trying to avoid answering the question.

"I do," he said, "and I have shot buckets thinking about this very moment. Although, truth be told, I imagined doing this in your classroom."

Again, I don't know why I encouraged him, but I asked, talking sultry, "And what did you imagine?"

"Eating your pussy under your desk, having you suck me in front of the whole class and bending you over the desk and fucking you," he listed, bluntly.

Again, my moral compass gone, an insatiable lust replacing it, I asked, "My cunt or my ass?"

"You can't fuck one without the other," he quipped, before adding, "on that note, let's see that ass of yours."

I asked coyly, "How do you want me?"

"First, just pose like you are trying to get my attention in the class," he ordered, as he leaned against a wall.

"Mmmmm, like this?" I asked, my own fantasy playing out right in front of me. I had teased him and many other students over the past couple years with my outfits and coy poses.



"Oh yeah," he groaned, "just like that, Mrs. Haze."

"What else did you fantasize?" I asked, as I smiled back at him, remaining in the same sexy pose.

"That would be a full length porn movie," he joked.

"Are just you and I in this porn movie?" I asked, somehow wanting to impress him with something I had only done once, a lesbian encounter or a threesome.

"Oh, we could have a revolving cast, but we would be the main two characters," he said suavely.

"Would Sarah be in it?" I asked, his high school girlfriend.

He laughed, "Why, do you fantasize about girls too?"

"I have a lot of fantasies," I replied, shrugging my shoulders, before adding, "I'm not as simple as I seem."

"So I see," he nodded, staring at me.

"What else can I do for you?" I asked, with a sexy smile.

"Let's see those tits, Mrs. Haze," he ordered.

I stood up and lifted the dress over me, revealing I wasn't wearing a bra as I showcased my very firm breasts.



"As perfect as I imagined," he said, as he seemed to practically be drooling over my firm breasts and erect nipples.

"Is your cock as big as I imagined?" I asked, as I got onto the bed.

"How big did you imagine it to be?" he asked.

"Big enough to make me scream," I smiled, as I moved into a seductive pose that screamed come and ravish me.

"I think you will be pleasantly surprised then," he quipped as he unbuckled his belt.



"It's like Christmas morning," I joked, as he slowly unwrapped himself.

"It's the twelve days of Christmas all wrapped up in one," he countered, as he unbuttoned his jeans slowly as if teasing me.

"Come over here and let me finish unwrapping that present," I purred, excited to see how big his dick really was.

He sauntered to the edge of the bed as he allowed his jeans to drop to the floor. He pulled them off and I could see his impressive bulge in his boxers. Instant lust washed over me as I felt both my mouth water and my pussy tingle.

"Fish it out, Mrs. Haze," he ordered, once he was directly in front of me, his dick barely hidden by his boxers.

Shifting to role play, I asked all nervously. "In front of the entire class?"

He nodded, "It's time you teach all these teen girls how to really suck a cock."

I rubbed his cock through his boxers and purred, "I don't think most of these girls could handle something this impressive. This cock was made to be worshipped by an experienced woman."

He repeated, "Pull it out, Mrs. Haze."

I obeyed and gasped. "Holy shit, it's even bigger than I could have fathomed."

"Think it will make you scream?" he asked.



"In ecstasy," I quipped back as I slowly stroked his impressive eight inch cock.

"Take it in your mouth, Mrs. Haze," he ordered.

I obeyed, opening wide and taking his massive rod in my mouth.

"Oh yes," he groaned as I began slowly bobbing.

I swirled my tongue around his thick mushroom top. I bobbed back and forth on his cock, eventually taking in all eight inches.

"Holy fuck," he groaned, "no one has taken all my dick in their mouth."

"I'm not no one," I purred, as I sat up and stroked his cock.

"Look at me, Mrs. Haze," he ordered.

I looked up at him with the same lust that he was looking at me with.



"Oh yeah," he groaned, "you really want my cock, don't you Mrs. Haze?"

"Fuck yes," I nodded, as I stroked his cock, my pussy begging for attention.

"How bad?" he asked.

"Just tell me what to do, Jeremy," I purred, "I'm your teacher submissive cum deposit tonight."

"Oh fuck," he groaned, "get on all fours Mrs. Haze, it's time to fuck that cunt of yours."

"Yes, sir," I moaned, wanting to be as submissive as possible with him.

I got on all fours, looked back and offered, "Pick a hole, sir."

"Holy fuck," he repeated, "you're an even bigger slut than I imagined."

"For big dick studs like you, almost all women are," I replied, as he got on the bed and rubbed his cock up and down my sopping wet pussy lips.

"Just slam it in, sir," I moaned. "I want to feel that huge dick of yours buried deep in me."

"As you wish," he agreed, as his cock slid easily inside my inferno of lust.

"Oh yes," I moaned loudly, "so fucking big."

"So fucking hot," he groaned, as his body met mine.

After a few slow strokes, I demanded, "Now don't make love to me, I have a husband for that. Fuck me like the teacher slut I am."

Even as I mentioned my husband for the first time, thought about him for the first time since Jeremy walked in my home, I oddly didn't feel guilt. This was his fault. And if I had to fuck someone to protect my reputation, so be it.



He obliged my request and began fucking me hard and fast.

My orgasm built quickly and I knew I wasn't going to last too long.

I begged, "Oh yes, don't stop. Your dirty teacher slut is going to come."

He kept fucking me hard and sure enough my orgasm erupted through me.

"Yes," I screamed, the ecstasy I had anticipated going through in never ending waves.

He kept pounding me throughout my orgasm, before he pulled out suddenly, put his hand on my head and positioned his cock at my ass.

"Oh yes," I moaned, liking the rough treatment, "fill my ass, sir. Fuck your teacher's asshole with that big dick."



His cock slid slowly in my ass and I moaned, a mixture of pleasure and pain (his cock thicker than my husband's), "Oh God, your cock fills my ass so much."

"So fucking tight," he grunted.

"That dick of yours was made for my ass," I replied, feeling it fit so perfectly. Any longer, any thicker and I'm not sure I could have handled it.

"I couldn't agree more," he groaned.

He slowly fucked my ass for a couple of minutes before he groaned, "I'm not going to last much longer."

I was disappointed. I wanted this to last forever, but I offered, "You can come in my ass, sir. Or all over your teacher's face or in her mouth."

He pulled out and ordered, "Give me a target, slut."



I quickly turned around onto my knees and purred, "You want to come all over your teacher's face in front of all these people?"

"Actually, I want you to catch every last drop in your mouth, but don't you dare swallow it. I want you to catch and savour in your mouth like a fine wine," he ordered.

"Oh yes," I purred, "I love a man who knows what he wants."

"Open wide," he ordered, as he furiously pumped his beautiful dick.

I obeyed, opening wide, giving him the biggest target I possibly could, even as I moved my hand to my still burning twat.

"Oh God," he groaned, "here comes my cum."

I laughed briefly at the two very different meanings of the word 'come/cum' and waited for the first rope to hit my mouth. I had swallowed hundreds of loads, taken just as many facials, but I had never tried to catch a load and not swallow.

Challenge accepted.

"Aaaaaah," he grunted, as his cum shot directly in my mouth.

Impressively, he had perfect aim as his entire load landed in my mouth. I focused on not swallowing or gagging.

Once he was done, he ordered, "Let's see."

I kept my mouth open and showed him I had indeed obeyed his order.



"Good girl," he nodded, before adding, "you may swallow the gift."

I closed my mouth and swallowed it all.

Once done, I smiled, "Yummy."

"That was amazing," he said, as he grabbed for his jeans.

"I concur," I smiled, watching his young body and still stiff cock.

"We should do this again," he said.

"I concur," I said again, even though I wasn't sure I could blame blackmail for a return engagement.

"Have a good night, Mrs. Haze," he said once dressed.

"That already happened," I smiled, just as my phone finally rang.

"Is that your husband?" he asked.

"It likely is," I nodded.

"Well, that is definitely my cue to leave," he said, moving to me and kissing me for the first time.




Stocking Tales: Blackmailed Wife



Once he broke the kiss, guilt hit me, kissing somehow seeming more intimate than sucking cock, or getting fucked.

"Hi, honey," I answered.



"I'm sorry it took so long," he said. "It has been a nightmare to say the least."

I won't bore you with the details. But his room was broken into; the video cameras on the hallway oddly didn't show anything; and he had already done a police report.

I told him about my evening... leaving out the fact that it was Jeremy and that I really enjoyed it.

He was furious and said that he would be calling the cops again to tell them this information.

He also added that on top of the crisis, he now had to stay until Saturday and wouldn't be home in time to go to the traditional Halloween party we always did.

This disappointed me too.

I was going to be Belle from Beauty and the Beast and, of course, he was to be the Beast. Yet, instead I got dressed in my Wizard of Oz outfit since I was going stag.

He told me to ignore any order that was given to me, as the cops said that 95 percent of the time these blackmail situations end up being a bluff.

I wasn't sure that was the best idea, but agreed to it.

When I realized Skype was still on, I asked, "Are you still there?"

He wasn't, so I logged out of Skype.

And he was right.

I ignored the blackmailer's texts Friday and checked the website he had referred to every hour and it remained blank. Eventually I relaxed, hoping it was done.

Saturday evening I was in my Dorothy outfit, posing for Tyler, who was at the airport, when the doorbell rang.



Tyler said, "I better get going anyways. Boarding has just been called."

"Okay," I said, before adding, "you better get to the party once you arrive."

"I'll try," he said.

"You owe me," I threatened.

"Fine, fine," he said, "I'll text you as soon as I land."

I teased, "I'm going to be drinking and if you're not there to claim your princess, I may have to find a new beast."

The doorbell rang again.

"Go get the door, I'll see you as soon I can," he said, before hanging up.

I went to the door and was surprised to see a very good looking man dressed casually, "Hi," I greeted.

"Hi, my slut," he said.

"Excuse me?" I questioned, even though I already knew exactly who he was.

This was my blackmailer.

He walked into my home and said, "Ready to finish what we started online?"

"Actually, I'm just leaving," I said.

"The question was rhetorical," he said. "And I too only have limited time."

"Please, this has gone too far," I protested.

"Tell you what," he said. "Obey me today and I will give you back this laptop and the USB for the back-up I made."

"Really? You promise?" I asked.

"Scout's honour," he said.

"Pretty sure a scout wouldn't blackmail someone," I pointed out.

"Touché," he said, as he walked towards the guest room, which was also a room we used for school role play. Shit, why didn't I think of that when Jeremy was here?

I followed him and he asked, "Why the school desk?"

"Role play," I admitted, no point in lying to him.

"Ah, right," he said, sitting down in it.

I asked, "So now what?"

"Knees," he ordered "and crawl to me."

I obeyed, figuring this was the most efficient way to get this over with. Reaching him, I looked up and noticed he was wearing a wedding ring.



He noticed me looking and added, "Yes, I'm married. But what she doesn't know won't hurt her."

I didn't say anything as my already negative view of him only compounded more.

"Get my cock out and start sucking, slut," he ordered.

Again, I just did as I was told, hoping the sooner I got him off the sooner this crazy ordeal would be over.

I got out his cock, which was thin but ridiculously long, and began sucking.

I bobbed quickly up and down, figuring he likely wouldn't last long.

But after a minute he put his hands on my head and pushed me down on his long cock and didn't let me move, I gagged, water running down my eyes, as I tried to breathe properly.



He held me there for an eternity, before finally letting go.

I coughed and snapped, "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Training a slut," he answered.

"Don't you dare fucking do that again," I demanded.

He laughed, "I told you do as I tell you today and this will be over. Is that clear?"

"Fine," I glared.

"Now get that slut mouth back over here," he demanded.

I moved back between his legs and after another moment, he again forced my head down on his cock. He held me even longer this time until I began slapping his leg.



When he let go, I gasped, "Holy fuck. Do you want me to puke all over your fucking dick?"

"No," he laughed, "but I do expect an obedient submissive slut who can suck a cock like a porn star."

"Do I look like a porn star?" I asked.

"Actually," he said, "based on the many videos I have watched the past couple of days I would argue not only do you look like a porn star, but you would probably make a lot more money selling those videos than you do teaching.

"I'm not sure I'm prepared to change careers," I said, as I tried to regain my composure.

"You asked a question, I answered it," he shrugged, as he stood up.

"Now what?" I asked, "Are you going to fuck me?"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" he asked.

Truth was, he had the longest dick I had ever seen and yes I was curious what it would feel like buried in me.

Another frustrating truth was that my pussy was undeniably wet... his rough treatment was somehow turning me on.

But I answered, "I just want to get this over with."

"Keep sucking then," he ordered.

I leaned forward and again took his cock in my mouth.



And again, after a few comfortable controlled bobs back and forth, he grabbed my head and held me in place, his nine inch cock buried so deep in my mouth I again thought I may puke... even though I was frustratingly turned on by the treatment.

Again he held me in place even longer.

Once he let go, I again coughed.

He said, "We are going to keep doing this until you can handle nine inches buried in that mouth of yours."

"Shit, you're too big," I protested, as I reached up and began stroking his cock, praying a hand job may get him off quick.

"I came three times already today in preparation for this moment," he revealed, "so I'm in for the long haul."

"Awesome," I said sarcastically, as I continued fisting his dick, focusing on the head, which seemed to work so well for Tyler.



"You really are a trooper," he said, as he looked down and watched me pump his cock.

"I'll do anything to protect my career," I said, then realized I had probably just given him more ammo to use against me.

"I know you will," he nodded. "I saw that when you so willingly fucked that boy."

"You made me do that," I protested.

"Did I?" he asked. "You completely forgot I was even there the moment you two were alone in the room."

That was true. I didn't recall Skype was on until after Jeremy left and I had finished talking with Tyler.

"I'm a good actress," I quipped.

"Exactly why you would make a great porn star," he quipped back, before sitting back down and snapping his finger and pointing to his cock.

I resented being treated like a dog, yet I moved back between his legs and again took his cock in my mouth. This time he allowed me to suck him longer and just enjoyed my mouth.

Then suddenly he grabbed my pigtails and began roughly fucking my face as he used my head like a rag doll.

I slobbered excessively as I focused on not gagging, thinking this may be the best way to get him off.

"Oh yeah," he groaned, "you're getting better."



He kept pulling my head back and forth what seemed like an eternity, even as my pussy literally leaked into my thong.

"You like this, don't you?" he asked.

I moaned on his cock in response as I focused on not gagging and kept sucking.

He then shocked me again he pulled out and ordered, "Beg for my cock, slut."

Suddenly wanting it in my mouth, wanting to finish what I started, I begged, "Please shove that big dick in my mouth."

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yes, dammit," I demanded, "I want that big dick now. I want that load in my mouth."

"Or on your face?" he asked.

"Wherever you want to put it," I offered.

"Good," he said, pulling me back on his cock before he wrapped his legs around my head and held me again with nine inches of his meat deep in my mouth.

"Hold it there," he demanded.

And I did.

For an eternity.

Like a frozen cocksucker, posing for a painting.



"Good slut," he groaned, as time stood still.

I held out for as long as I could before I slapped his leg in desperation, feeling light-headed and almost out of breath.

He didn't release me right away, although he did move his legs back down, allowing me to get some much needed air.

"Almost done," he declared.

I just kept focusing on his cock.

He suddenly ordered, "Sit up and get ready for my cum."

I quickly sat up and opened my mouth.

"Stick out your tongue," he demanded.



I obeyed, as I closed my eyes and prepared for the cum.

"Here it comes," he grunted a few seconds later.

I felt his cum hit my lips, tongue and chin.

"Oh yeah," he groaned.

I opened wider, wanting more in my mouth.

"You love cum, don't you, slut?" he asked.

I nodded, as more cum splattered my face and landed in my mouth.

When he was done, he asked, "Enjoy yourself?"

"It was surprisingly interesting," I answered, looking up and feeling utterly spent, which was strange since I hadn't yet come.



Suddenly my cell rang.

"You should answer that," he said.

"It's my husband," I answered, knowing it was him from the ring tone, even though that was weird as he should have been on a plane by now.

"I know," he nodded.

"What?" I asked.

"Just answer it," he said.

I grabbed the phone and greeted, "Hi. Where are you?"

"In the living room," he answered.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I'm in the living room," he repeated.

"I heard you. I don't understand," I said, confused.

"Come out here," he said.

I stood up, looked up at my blackmailer and asked, "What is going on?"

"Maybe Tyler should explain that," he said.

"You know my husband?" I asked.

"We are old college buddies," he nodded.

"What the fuck?" I questioned, as I walked out and to the living room.

"Hey," he greeted.

"What the fuck is going on?" I asked.

"You told me you fantasized about being forced to be a slut and, well," he shrugged, "I made your fantasy come true."

I was shocked.

This was all planned.

I finally asked, "There was no blackmail?"

"No," he said.

"And you never lost your phone," I continued.

"No," he admitted.

"And who did I perform for online?" I asked.

"Me," he admitted.

Part of me wanted to strangle him; the other half was impressed. He had just given me a crazy couple of days.

And in truth, we had role played all these scenarios in one form or another before, I realized. The blackmail, the teacher seduced by student.

"I don't know whether to kill you or fuck you," I finally said,

"How about a blow job?" he joked.

"Yes, sir," I smiled, dropping to my knees.

EPILOGUE:

Crazy enough, the wild weekend gave me an idea.

I would quit teaching.

I would become a porn star.

I created my own website and started making a variety of fetish videos:

-Submissive slut videos

-Nasty incest videos

-Mind control videos

-Water sports videos

-Costume role play

- Bratty Princess videos where I domme men

-And custom made videos.

And I'm not going to lie...

I love every second of it... I get paid to suck and fuck.

Life couldn't be any sweeter than it is now. And here is one new one from my website with a plug that was just in my ass, now in my mouth.



THE END

Again a super thank you to Sweet Daisy Haze for allowing me to use her many photo sets to create this lengthy ode to the beautiful, adventurous, kinky star.

I used photos from many photo shoots and her twitter account, but here are the main four:

Mind Control App Makes Your Assistant Suck and Fuck!

Daisy REALLY needs a job

Pin-Up Vintage POV Eye Contact and Pretty Feet in YOUR Face

Forced Deepthroat for Hooters Shift

Thanks again...

And have a naughty Halloween.

Jasmine October 2015



"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet



"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet

Summary: College student is drawn into the world of sexual submission.

Note 1: This is an April Fool's 2015 Contest story. The theme for the contest is: humorous, surprise meetings, trick endings or themes of deception, chance or misunderstanding (happy or otherwise). This story will fit one of these...but not to wreck the ending...I'll let you decide which one when you reach it.

Note 2: Thanks to Wayne, goamz86 and Robert for editing this lengthy tale.

Note 3: This is a fetish story focusing on a few visual kinks: stockings, lips, painted toenails and feet.

Note 4: January 2016... the story, originally illustrated was been changed to simply a lesbian story with two different endings as the model has requested for personal reasons to have the pictures pulled.

"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet

In my fourth year of college, I had an interview at the most prestigious accounting firm in the city and was super excited about it.

I spent hours deciding what to wear. I didn't want to dress too professional and look like a nerd, but I also didn't want to dress too casual and not look like I was serious about the job. I had been to a few interviews and was in awe with how skanky some of the girls dressed; that said, I hadn't yet got a job so I wondered if dressing sexier was what I would have to do. Yet, it just wasn't me to pretend to be something I'm not. I wanted to get the job because of my qualifications and not superficial sexual assets that fade or sag over time.

So, I researched online, chatted with friends and ended up choosing a rather conservative, but professional, look. I wore a white blouse, a long blue skirt that allowed only my ankles to show, and flats (I was kind of clumsy and was worried about falling in heels).

The outfit didn't flatter my body at all, as I wanted to be taken seriously as someone they would want to hire and not another college coed with a nice body. For the record, I do have a pretty great body. I am 5'3, 105lbs, firm but small 34B breasts, with a tight ass and toned legs from hours of martial arts and yoga.

Although my outer attire has always been conservative, I did like to dress up for the bedroom for whoever I was dating and I owned a fair amount of sexy lingerie. Although, truth be told, I hadn't gotten to wear it much as I hadn't been dating for a while, the last year of college being rather intense.

My best assets: my legs, my outgoing personality (almost all my friends are older than me and I have always been attracted to older men) and my lips...the first compliment I receive from many men and tons of women are my lips.

I should note that my heritage, a mixture of Spanish and Irish, made me not only outgoing, but also rather blunt...something that many people either loved or hated about me.

Anyways, I went to the job interview after hours of practicing the answers to questions I may get...yet completely unprepared for the questions I did receive.

I showed up half an hour early and got to see that I was indeed the most conservatively dressed candidate. At first that made me happy, but then I again realized that if the person interviewing me was a male, which it likely was, I could very well be ignored because of my lack of showcasing my assets.

Like I already mentioned, I wanted to get the job because of who I was, not what I looked like, so I pushed away the inner demons of 'sex sells' and waited for my interview, confident in my abilities and personality.

I was thankful when it was finally my turn when to learn that the person interviewing me was a woman, a very pretty woman, in her early forties I guessed, who was dressed very professionally as well, although her skirt was just above her knees, making mine look incredibly conservative.

"Sorry for the long wait, Ms. Lovex," she greeted, walking to me and offering her hand.

"No problem," I replied," it gave me time to think." As soon as I said it I wished I could take it back, the answer sounding stupid.

She said, without any sense of emotion, "Well, you already have an advantage over the other applicants."

"I do?" I asked.

"Everyone else dressed trying to use their body for influence, obviously assuming they were being interviewed by a man," she continued.

Confidence quickly brimming inside me, I nodded, "I want to be seen for my abilities and what I can do for this company."

"Good answer," she nodded, before pointing to a chair in front of her desk, "Please take a seat."

"Thank you, ma'am," I replied, never sure what the proper name is for someone in charge in such a situation.

"It's Mrs. Parks," she corrected warmly.

"Okay," I nodded as I sat down, surprised to see her pantyhose had a black seam going up the back of her leg.

Once she sat down, she asked, "What is your best asset?"

The question surprised me, but I answered truthfully, "I can get along with everyone."

"How so?" She asked.

"I'm a very social person and enjoy meeting new people," I explained.

"Is that a great asset for an accounting firm?"' she questioned.

I realized that I was already killing my chances. Accounting is about numbers, not people. After a brief pause, I explained, "I'm a closer. I am the person you send in to close a deal with a potential client."

"Go on," she nodded, seemingly liking my answer.

"Well it's a dog eat dog world and clients are way more fickle than they used to be; so it's important to be aggressive to get and keep the big clients and my personality is perfect for attracting these clients," I explained.

"How so?" She asked again, going much deeper than the usual superficial questions. She was obviously able to see through bull shit.

"By making accounting about people," I answered.

"Interesting," she nodded, writing something down. After a pause, she asked, "So how do you close a deal?"

"By convincing them of all we have to offer," I answered.

"No, no," she shook her head. "Pretend I am the client and you are trying to close the deal."

I asked, "What type of company are you?"

"Why does that matter?" She asked.

"Different closings based on different needs," I answered.

"Good call," she nodded. "I'm a lawyer's office."

"Hmmmm," I paused. I won't bore you with the details of my pitch, but once done with the lengthy spiel, I nervously waited for a verdict.

Mrs. Parks showed no emotion. I couldn't tell if she was impressed by my pitch or ready to kick me out of the office. Finally, after a few seconds, which seemed like an eternity, she nodded, shocking me, "You're hired."

"P-p-pardon," I stammered.

"You're hired," she repeated, this time standing up and walking to me.

I stood up in stunned shock at the reality that I got the job without really doing an interview.

Reaching me, she explained, "I have done a plethora of interviews over the years and I know when someone is authentic and someone is full of shit."

"Thank you," I awkwardly replied, assuming she thought I was authentic.

"But we will have to do something about this wardrobe," she said, looking at my attire.

I admitted, "I spent hours deciding what to wear and what not to wear."

"Always go with your instincts," she recommended, "like you did with your pitch. You didn't have time to think and rethink, you just had to do."

"Ok, usually I'm very good on my feet," I said.

Her next words were strange. "In today's business world a woman needs to be good both on her feet and off them."

I joked, although I wasn't sure where she was going with this, "That's what my ex-boyfriend always said."

"So you're single?" She asked.

"I have been for a while," I admitted.

"Good," she nodded. "I have decided that you will be my personal assistant for the next few months, working under me."

She stressed the last three words, which I thought strange, but I was too excited to be working with the head of the company to really worry about any implications of words.

"I'm honoured," I said, glowing with excitement,

"As you should be," she said, always firm in her demeanour, "this is an amazing opportunity."

"I know," I nodded, "I can't thank you enough."

"Oh trust me, you will find many ways to show your thanks," she said, again her tone implying more than business. I instantly wondered if she was a lesbian, yet the fact that she was married shattered that theory.

"I'll do anything," I promised.

"I know you will," she nodded, smiling slightly for the first time this whole meeting.

I added, "Mrs. Parks, I can only work afternoons for the next two months though, until my degree is finished."

"I know, but I will expect you to be able to work some nights and weekends," she nodded, then added, "And have a travel bag ready for last minute excursions."

"Okay," I nodded, slightly overwhelmed by her expectations, but too excited about the opportunity to share that with her.

"But back to your attire. I expect my underlings to dress both sexy and professional."

I was surprised by her expectations after her earlier criticism of the other candidates. Yet, I agreed, "Of course."

"Of course, Mrs. Parks," she corrected.

"S-s-sorry," I stammered, before correcting, "of course, Mrs. Parks."

"Good girl," she said, her word choice odd and her tone sounding as if she were my mother.

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I nodded, feeling strangely like a little girl.

"I have a theory that has worked for me since I was your age," she continued, as she lifted up her leg and placed her four inch heel on my leg, "Your exterior dress should show no nonsense, with just a hint of sexiness."

I recalled her seamed stocking and nodded, "Thus the seamed pantyhose."

"Good eye," she nodded. "It's good to notice all the little details."

"I couldn't agree more," I smiled, feeling she really understood me.

"Feel my nylon-clad leg," she ordered.

It was a bizarre order, yet I felt compelled to obey for two reasons. One, she had just hired me; two, there was just something compelling and alluring about her...like I physically felt compelled to obey.

I put my hand on her leg and let out a gasp. I had never felt nylons so soft.

"Forty-five dollars a pair," she explained, "and worth every damn penny."

"I imagine so," I mindlessly nodded, as I continued to pet my new boss's leg.

"So as I was explaining, outer attire is business with some allure. It may be your breasts, although for you that isn't your best asset," she said, looking at my chest. "On the other hand, the right push up bra can do wonders."

"So I've heard," I said, always self-conscious of my smaller than average breasts.

She continued, "No, I imagine your best asset is your legs."

I don't know why I said it, but I added, "I've been told my lips are my best asset."

"I bet you have," she replied, implying I probably sucked a lot of cock.

I stammered, trying to clarify my last statement, "Not like that."

"I don't judge," she shrugged. "but in today's world a woman has got to have the mind to impress and the body to please."

"I suppose," I said, the conversation taking another odd turn, especially considering her earlier criticism of the other applicants for the job.

"No suppose," she corrected, as she put her hand on my shoulder and slid her foot out of her heel. "What do you see?"

I knew her foot wasn't the right answer, as I was supposed to be able to see the small things. I analyzed her whole foot before answering, "Your toenails and fingernails match."

"Why?" She asked. "My heels are closed toe."

"Part of the allure," I answered, oddly wanting to massage her stocking-clad foot.

"Exactly," she nodded. "Never know when the heels will come off...or the skirt and blouse."

"Understood," I nodded, drawn in completely by this firm, sophisticated, complex, intoxicating woman.

She slipped her foot back into her shoe and moved her leg back down. For some unexplained reason, I was disappointed at no longer being able to see her perfectly manicured painted toes. She ordered, "Stand up."

I obeyed instantly, knowing this was a woman who expects quick obedience.

"Take off one of your flats," she ordered, before adding very firmly, "You will never wear flats to work. Ten year olds wear flats, women wear heels."

Although I was being scolded, ridiculed for my footwear, I nodded, as I slipped my foot out of my practical, but not remotely sexy, flat, "Yes, Mrs. Parks."

"As expected," she sighed, "your toenails are not painted to match your fingers."

"Sorry, Mrs. Parks," I apologized, which was absurd, but I felt guilty for disappointing this important woman.

"You will correct this for when you start on Monday," she said.

I was in awe that she was definitely hiring me, and that I was starting on Monday, realizing I had a lot of shopping to do this weekend. I again replied subserviently, "Of course, Mrs. Parks."

"You may put your shoe back on," she instructed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I nodded, slipping my foot back into my shoe.

"You will start on Monday at one," she informed me.

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I repeated, like a parrot. Usually, I was very comfortable in all situations and never nervous; yet, at this moment I was feeling overwhelmed by the job offer, the strange conversation and the odd butterflies in my stomach (which I usually got when I found an older man attractive). Instantly I wondered, did I find Mrs. Parks attractive?

"Now this is going to sound unorthodox, but lift up your skirt to your thigh," she ordered.

Usually I would have balked at such an aggressive demand, yet I instantly obeyed, lifting up my skirt, compelled to do whatever she instructed.

"As expected," she said disapprovingly. She lifted up her skirt and showed me she was wearing thigh high stockings. "This, my dear, is how a woman should dress. How I expect my underlings to dress."

I wanted to ask why, but I just nodded, even as I pondered her word choice of 'underlings', "Of course, Mrs. Parks."

She allowed her skirt to fall back down and said, as she walked back to her desk, "I'll see you at one o'clock Monday afternoon."

"Yes, Mrs. Parks and, again, thank you so much," I thanked.

She didn't even look up as she said, her tone again ominous, "Oh don't worry, you will have plenty of time to thank me."

That weekend, I bought a whole new wardrobe, following the theory of professional with a touch of sexiness on the outside and sexy and buxom underneath. In reality, I was giddy with excitement. For one, I loved dressing up and loved wearing lingerie; for two, I really wanted to impress Mrs. Parks.

.....

On Monday, I wore a patterned sweater that I thought was super cute, a polka dot skirt that was just barely above the knees and beige thigh highs that I had purchased on the weekend...way silkier than the generic ones I had usually bought at Walmart.

I thought this balanced the professional and sexy as she described very well. I wanted to meet her expectations, yet I also wanted to look respectable and classy to my fellow co-workers. I chose comfortable one inch heels because while she hated my practical flats, I still wanted something easy to walk in.

I went to work and was surprised that I spent the whole afternoon with Elizabeth, a third year accountant. She was very nice and gave me a tour of the office, introduced me to everyone and showed me the ropes of the program I would be using. Oddly, all afternoon I looked forward to seeing Mrs. Parks, although I couldn't explain why.

It wasn't until four that Elizabeth's phone rang and she told me that Mrs. Parks wanted to see me.

I thanked Elizabeth for all her help and headed off to see Mrs. Parks.

That said, I was nervous. The tour and meeting the staff made it clear my one inch heels were not going to be acceptable as every woman here was in at least three inch heels. I also had one of the longest, if not the longest, skirts of all the women I saw today. All sexy, but always business appropriate.

I entered her office and she instructed, "Close the door, Lily."

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," I replied, closing the door, for some unexplainable reason incredibly nervous, an undeniably giddy excitement, like when trying to please a man, coursing through me . I am usually a very confident woman, so this feeling was new and I didn't like it.

As I closed the door and turned around, I saw Mrs. Parks get up and walk towards me.

"Tell me, Lily," she began, her tone dripping with disapproval, "what is wrong with your attire?"

"It's not sexy enough," I answered, putting my head down.

"Why?" She asked.

"The skirt is too long," I admitted.

"Cute," she nodded, "but definitely slightly too long. What else?"

"Apparently everyone else here wears three inch heels," I answered, feeling like a child who has disappointed her mother.

"Or higher," she corrected. "I'm wearing five inch heels."

My head down, I was staring at her black five inch heels wondering how she didn't kill herself in them.

"I'm uncomfortable in heels, Mrs. Parks," I explained, finally looking up at her, before adding, trying to bring humour to this situation, "I almost killed myself at my high school grad when I wore three inch heels."

"Practice makes perfect," she shrugged. "I expect better tomorrow."

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," I nodded, determined to indeed do better tomorrow.

"Also, although your sweater is cute, it completely hides any evidence that you have breasts," she continued.

"Oh, okay," I nodded. I never wore outfits that showcased my breasts because they were rather small.

"Thigh highs?" she asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," I nodded, lifting up my skirt enough to showcase the top of my lace top stocking. Feeling sexy, I posed like a model, wanting to get her attention, wanting to please her.

"Very nice," she nodded in approval, "I see you spent the extra money and purchased a quality pair."

"Yes, they are so much silkier than the ones I have worn in the past," I agreed, still holding the pose for some reason.

"With legs like yours, Lily, you should always be wearing such silky nylons, they are definitely one of your strongest assets," she complimented, giving my legs the once over.

"Thank you," I nodded, finally allowing my skirt to drop back down, "I really didn't realize the impact a pair of stockings could have on both the look of the legs and the confidence it brings me wearing them."

"All part of the complete package," she agreed.

"So I'm learning," I said, feeling such a rush of excitement that went directly to my pussy. I was really struggling to understand both my need for her approval and the undeniable impact her words had on me. I wasn't a lesbian, but I was beginning to think I'd be one for her. As soon as the thought popped into my head, I shook it out, thinking I needed to focus on the real reason I was here...to get a full time job at the most prestigious firm in the city.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Um, yes, fine," I said, pulling myself back to reality.

"Let's see your foot, Lily," she ordered.

'Damn', I thought to myself. I had forgotten to paint my toenails over the weekend.

I slipped my foot out of my right heel and revealed my forgetfulness.

She looked down at my foot, said, "You may go," and waved me off as she returned to her desk.

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," I said, slipping my foot back into my one inch black heel.

A rush of disappointment hit me as I walked out of her office, all the positives and approval shattered in one careless second.

I left feeling dismissed and insignificant, a feeling I wasn't used to. I was confident in my abilities, confident in my looks and confident in my personality, yet in front of Mrs. Parks all three of those seemed to be lacking. It was so strange to not be in control of a situation or my feelings.




"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet



I also couldn't fathom why a woman twice my age was having a sexual impact on me. Besides wanting to get her approval, my panties were undeniably wet and it had me questioning my sexuality for the first time.

On the drive home, I went to a shoe store and bought three pairs of three inch heels, one pair of four inch heels and one pair of five inch heels.

At home, I spent all night practicing walking in three inch heels. I was determined to be sure to wear them all day tomorrow. I was determined to impress Mrs. Parks.

I also had a bubble bath before I painted my toenails red, wanting to impress and get the approval of my boss, replaying the immediate change in her facial expression when she saw my non-painted toenails.

Then, feeling undeniably horny, I put on a sexy bra and panties, thigh high stockings, grabbed my favourite vibrator, got on my bed and began pleasuring myself.

As I closed my eyes, I imagined Ryan Gosling, like I usually did, forcing me onto my knees and fishing out his (I pray really big) cock.

I slowly teased myself at first, allowing my orgasm to build, as he fucks my face and tells me I'm his slut.

Then I begin pumping the vibrator in my fevered pussy faster, imagining him on top of me fucking me deep and hard. As my orgasm builds, I look up at Ryan who is smiling as he fucks me hard telling me I'm his fuck slut. Then, just as my orgasm hits, his face changes and it is Mrs. Parks fucking me.

Although startled, I allow my orgasm to cascade through me, even as I look up at a smiling Mrs. Parks purring, 'that's it, my pet slut, come for me'.

Once my orgasm was done, I shook my head knowing it had obviously been way too long since I got laid.

I decided to stay in my sexy lingerie and did a couple hours of homework, before going to bed utterly exhausted and still in my lingerie and thigh highs.

That night, I had a crazy wet dream that left me confused and questioning everything about the past couple of days:

The dream started where I disappointed her when she looked at my non painted toes.

Mrs. Parks sighed, "That's very disappointing."

"Sorry, Mrs. Parks," I apologized, feeling terrible that I had disappointed my new boss.

"And for someone with such a high IQ, you should know that the seams of stockings should not be seen. They should be at the end of your toes and both the same."

"Oh," I said quietly, looking down at my stocking-clad feet. I had never put much thought into the seams of the stockings.

"Take off your skirt and blouse," she ordered, surprising me.

"Pardon?" I asked, surprised by her words and looking up at her.

"Now!" she demanded, raising her voice.

Startled, yet feeling the need to obey and not raise her ire any further, I began unbuttoning my blouse while avoiding eye contact.

My hands trembled as I wondered why she wanted me to get undressed, but suddenly thankful that I had worn lingerie underneath the conservative attire.

As I took my blouse off, she said, "Well, that is a pleasant surprise."

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I replied, feeling a rush of happiness at making her less annoyed at me.

"The skirt too," she ordered.

I obeyed, my hands no longer trembling, suddenly feeling more confident about myself and the situation. Yet, I was still unsure why I felt the need to obey her. I wasn't a lesbian; she was married. I wasn't sure what could possibly be the end plan for Mrs. Parks.

"Matching panties," she noticed, "very nice."

"It's actually a thong," I corrected, wanting to impress her.

"You are more than meets the eye," she nodded, walking behind me to check. "Just like I thought when I decided to hire you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks." I replied, confused by my feeling the need for her to approve of me.

"Pose for me," she ordered.

"How so?" I asked, not sure what she was expecting from me.

"Show me sexy and vulnerable," she explained.

I wasn't sure exactly how to do sexy and vulnerable. It was a somewhat contradictory pair of terms I thought. I gave a pose that I thought was sexy, then focused on my facial expression...on my lips.

"Nice," she nodded. Again walking around me, assessing me from different angles.

Thankfully, I felt very confident about my legs, ass, hips and stomach. It was only my smallish breasts that I had insecurities about. That said, I found lingerie to be a great way to enhance my breasts and make them look fuller.

"Do you work out?" she asked.

"Almost every day," I said proudly. "And a lot of yoga."

"Mmmmm," she purred, her hot breath on my neck. "So you're flexible."

"Very," I said back in a sultry voice, before realizing I was flirting with not only my boss, but a woman, an older woman, a married woman.

"Good to know," she nodded, her hands sliding down my body and to my hips.

A chill went up my spine at her touch and a dampness went directly to my thong.

"Let's see those hips," she continued, moving back around and standing directly in front of me.

I put my hands behind my back and allowed my boss to see me as she wanted to.

"Oh, to be young again," she sighed.

"You're a very beautiful woman, Mrs. Parks," I complimented. "I hope I have as much allure and power as you when I am your age."

"Oh, you are going to be a very loyal pet," she smiled for the first time.

The word 'pet' sent another rush up my spine and into my panties.

"Is your pussy wet, Lily?" she asked.

"A little," I admitted.

"Why?" she questioned.

"I don't know," I replied.

"I think you do," she continued. "Turn around for me, my pet."

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," I obeyed, turning around slowly with my hands behind my back in a submissive, obedient position.

"Very good," she continued.

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I whispered, my body trembling with the unknown.

"You want to serve me, Lily?" she asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," I nodded, still with my back to her. Even though I wasn't sure what serving her would entail, I had a hunch.

"Have you ever been with a woman?" she asked, grabbing my arm and turning me around to look at her.

"No, Mrs. Parks," I answered, looking into her eyes.

"But you are considering it at the moment, aren't you, my pet?" she asked, her finger moving between my breasts.

"I don't know," I responded, trembling at her touch.

"Knees, my pet," she ordered.

I looked into her eyes, pondered the order for a brief moment in time, before slowly falling to my knees like a leaf falling off a tree.

As she lifted up her skirt, revealing her glistening pussy, I awakened to my hand in my panties rubbing myself.

I had never been with a woman sexually before, never even seriously considered it, besides making out with friends just to tease our boyfriends. Yet this dream felt like it was really happening.

As I finished getting myself off for a second time with Mrs. Parks in my head, I lay there in my own cum wondering to myself if I found Mrs. Parks more than just an impressive role model, but sexually appealing.

Yes, she was beautiful; yes, she had a sexy allure; yes, her strong persona was attractive; yes, she knew exactly what she wanted...her confidence dripped from her every word and action; and yes, I had always been attracted to those qualities in a man.

The reality was. although I was a strong-willed woman, called a feminist by many men who didn't like my bluntness, I was rather submissive in my sexual relationships:

-I had ridden my boyfriend in the living room while his mother made dinner in the kitchen.

-I had blown another boyfriend under a table at a bar.

-I had allowed a boyfriend to cum on my face in a car and then make me go into a gas station and pay for gas.

-I had allowed a couple guys to finger fuck my even though I found no pleasure in it (but had refused allowing a cock back there)

The reality was I loved giving myself completely to someone else and got off on the thrill of potentially humiliating or high risk situations.

My last boyfriend called me an enigma.

That all said, did I really find Mrs. Parks sexually attractive or was it just her strong personality that I found attractive? After some thought, the answer seemed to be maybe...she indeed had all the personality traits of the men I dated, yet I wasn't a lesbian and I sure wasn't going to risk this great job opportunity on one sex dream and some strange feelings of admiration.

....

On Tuesday, I wore a black dress, with a push-up bra that showcased my breasts, with black thigh highs and three inch black heels.

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I lifted up my skirt slightly and realized just how much hotter I looked today than I had yesterday in a much more conservative outfit. I shook my head thinking about the one I wore for my interview...I'm shocked I was even hired.

I also decided to wear my hair down instead of the one braid I'd worn yesterday that had made me look more like a librarian than the sexy professional Mrs. Parks described. I wanted to look like a beautiful fetching woman, and this outfit was definitely a step in the right direction.

I again spent the day with Elizabeth and was given my first real project to work on.

I spent all afternoon working on the project and learned later in the day that Mrs. Parks wasn't even in the office today nor would she be later.

I couldn't explain it, but I felt an undeniable sense of disappointment at the reality that she wasn't going to see the improvements I had made in my attire.

Just as quickly, I chuckled to myself at the reality that I was disappointed. I knew then that I did indeed have a crush on my female boss. 'Shit', I sighed, realizing I was potentially screwing up a great job opportunity with a lesbian crush.

That night, though, I again had a dream, again it was vivid and again it brought me to a fever pitch.

I was sitting on a chair in her office and she ordered me to lift up my skirt enough to showcase my lace top of my thigh highs.

I stammered, "W-w-why, Mrs. Parks?"

She replied, "You know why, Lily."

I looked up at her as she stood in front of me and said, "Because you want to be my unconditional submissive plaything, Lily."

"I-I-I do?" I stammered, even as my pussy got wet.

"Don't you?" she smiled down at me from her position of power.

"I don't know," I whispered, my head spinning with confusion.

"Lift up your skirt, my pet," she ordered.

Hearing the term 'my pet' had my pussy leak into my panties and I obeyed her request wordlessly.

"Good girl," she purred, looking down at me. "Did you wear those for me, my pet?"

"Yes," I admitted, not making eye contact.

"Look at me, my pet," she ordered.

I looked up into her hazel-green eyes.

"Why did you wear such sexy thigh thighs?" she asked again.

"For you, Mrs. Parks," I admitted.

"Why?" she asked.

"I honestly don't know," I admitted, which was true. I couldn't explain why I felt the need to obey her, to please her, to get her approval, but I undeniably did.

"I do," she smiled. "You're submissive and although you don't understand it yet, all your failed relationships are because you've been dating the wrong sex."

"How do you know that?" I asked, even though I had begun questioning my sexuality yesterday.

"I can read people," she answered, before adding, "and you are an open book."

"And how does my book end?" I asked, smiling up at her trying to be sultry.

"That is up to you, my pet," she smiled. "I expect total obedience."

"I'm very loyal, Mistress," I replied, calling her Mistress to clearly stress my position.

"Mmmmm, good word choice," she purred.

"I understand what it means to give total obedience," I responded, eager to show her just how committed I was to her.

"And what does total obedience mean?" she asked.

"Obeying without hesitation any order given to me," I replied.

"Any order?" she questioned.

"Without hesitation," I finished her sentence.

"Interesting," she nodded, looking at me with lengthy consideration.

After a brief silence that seemed like an eternity, she ordered, "On your knees, my pet."

"Yes, Mistress," I obeyed, standing up off the chair and then lowering myself to my knees in front of her.

"Does this feel natural, my pet? To be on your knees?" she asked, looking down at me.

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded.

"Why?" she asked.

"Some are born to be leaders and some to be followers, Mistress," I answered. "You were born to be a leader and I a follower, or more aptly put, you are the queen and I the servant."

"Good girl," she bobbed with approval. "You understand your place."

"As your unconditional underling," I smiled, using her word from our first meeting last week.

"You are a very fast learner," she again nodded.

"And eager to please," I added, my mouth watering with anticipation for the order to taste her pussy.

"I bet you are," she smiled down at me as she lifted up her skirt to reveal she wasn't wearing any panties.

"Show me hunger with just your lips, my pet," she ordered.

I wasn't sure what hunger would look like; nor did I have a clue what I looked like as I attempted to obey the order.

"You do have the sexiest lips ever," she complimented.

"Thank you, Mistress," I replied.

"I bet you have often got what you wanted because of them," she continued.

I shrugged, "I don't know, but I've definitely had a lot of compliments on them."

"I bet you have," she nodded.

I looked back down at her shaved cunt and she asked, "Is my pet's cunt shaved?"

"No, Mistress," I admitted. I trimmed it, but found shaving it bare way too much work for the rare time a man was down there.

"That will change ASAP," she ordered.

"I will do it tonight," I promised.

"Good pet," she purred, as she grabbed the back of my head and guided me to her pussy.

Frustratingly, that is when I woke up, again just as I was to submit completely.

As I replayed the dream, I couldn't believe how real it felt. I also couldn't believe how disappointed I was to wake up and realize it was all just a dream...again.

I rolled over, set my alarm half an hour earlier, deciding I would shave my pussy in the morning just in case. If, for some unknown reason, she asked the question, I wanted to have the correct answer.

As I closed my eyes and drifted into slumber, I wondered what I would do if Mrs. Parks did really make a move on me.

.....

On Wednesday, desperate to impress her (on the assumption she was at work today), I wore a tighter, sexier blouse and push up bra that greatly showcased my breasts, maybe too much, a skirt greatly above the knees that barely hid the lace top of the black thigh high stockings, and the three inch heels I had again practiced in all night. I definitely looked hot in this outfit.

I hemmed and hawed over the blouse. It was definitely a lot more risqué, complete night and day from the white dull blouse of my interview day, and maybe actually too risqué. Yet, my desire to impress Mrs. Parks was suddenly more important than getting judged by coworkers who may see my blouse as crossing the line.

The skirt was also ridiculously short, only barely hiding the top of the lace top stockings when standing up. If sitting down or bent over at any angle, anyone looking would know I was wearing thigh high stockings and not pantyhose.

Then I wondered if this was advice Mrs. Parks gave to all her employees? Was Elizabeth wearing thigh highs under her outfit? Was Mrs. Parks' secretary wearing thigh highs? The rest of her philosophy was being followed: sexy business attire, with skirts above the knee, three inch heels and something slightly sexy as an accessory of sexuality.

For Mrs. Parks it was seamed stockings; for Elizabeth it was blouses that showcased her very large breasts, for the redhead whose name I couldn't remember it was outfits that highlighted her flaming, flowing red hair.

In conclusion, I could assume that every woman in the firm was wearing thigh high stockings.

Feeling confident and sexy, I grabbed my camera and tri-pod and took some photos of myself in a variety of sexy positions I imagined Mrs. Parks liking.

The first photo I took was replaying the scene of my interview with Mrs. Parks when she put her stocking-clad heel on my leg.

I remembered how soft her nylons were, how strange it felt to touch them and yet how equally erotic it was.

Was that the moment that I began to have feelings for Mrs. Parks?

Maybe.

There was no one moment that made me question my sexuality, yet the combination of the interview, her personality, her firm tone, her beautiful legs in nylons, the black seam going up the back of her leg, her hypnotic eyes, her confidence and strangely her treatment of me. Somehow she seemed to know I was submissive, even though in my interview I oozed confidence. Well, at least I thought I did.

The next picture I slipped off one of my heels and did a similar pose with my stocking-clad foot on the chair.

I took a few more before photos in a variety of poses before heading to school for morning classes. I got a few looks from the college boys and I think at least one professor and even a whistle from a construction worker as I waited for a taxi.

At work, I looked at every woman for signs of thigh high stockings, determined to prove my hypothesis correct. And although it took a while, I saw two lace tops: one on Velma, an accountant who assisted me when my computer froze, and one on a woman whom I hadn't met before who was wearing a skirt, surprisingly below the knee, but with a very generous slit down the side. I was confident that I was correct, every woman was wearing the attire Mrs. Parks expected.

All day, I again waited with anticipation for the approval I was confident I would finally get from Mrs. Parks. Although I hadn't seen her, I inquired slyly to learn that she was indeed in the office. However, she would be in meetings all afternoon with clients.

The day was ending, and I was again feeling utterly disappointment (like after a good date with a guy who doesn't call the next day to affirm the date went as well as you thought it did) that Mrs. Parks wasn't going to see the attire I had purposely worn just for her, when her secretary, whose name I couldn't recall even though she had been introduced to me, said that Mrs. Parks wanted to see me.

A rush of giddy excitement coursed through me. I shook my head at how silly I was acting. I was twenty-two years old, not fifteen.

I went to her office and again she ordered, "Please close the door, Lily."

"Of course, Mrs. Parks," I agreed, already in the process of closing it.

She said, as she pointed me to a chair, although her firm tone didn't change, "Much, much better."

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I replied, again feeling a rush of adrenaline at getting her approval and, to my surprise, a tingle in my pussy.

"Quite the blouse," she continued.

"I hoped you would like it, Mrs. Parks," I responded eagerly, somehow feeling a desperate need to get her approval.




"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet



"Although a bit risqué for the office, don't you think?" she questioned.

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," I nodded.

"On the other hand, perfect for when we are meeting with clients," she continued.

"Good to know," I nodded, although I wondered how such an outfit would be perfect for a meeting with clients if it was too risqué for the office.

"Thigh highs again I assume," she asked.

I looked down and saw that my entire thigh high stocking top was in view with my legs crossed, as was some of my white skin, but she likely couldn't see that from her sitting positon at her desk.

"As instructed, Mrs. Parks," I responded, sounding completely submissive.

"Good girl," she complimented.

The term 'good girl', her tone, and the anticipation of something unknown made my pussy leak slightly into my panties.

I uncrossed my legs and then crossed them again, feeling a gush in my panties.

Standing up, she ordered, looking down at me, "Step out of your heels, Lily."

"Okay, Mrs. Parks," I obeyed, standing up and slipping my nylon clad feet out of my heels.

"Very good," she nodded, looking down at my painted toenails.

It felt so good to get her approval, like it did the rare time I received my own mother's approval.

"I couldn't decide what colour to choose," I explained, "but I decided red was both classic and sexy."

"Agreed," she nodded, "but the seams of your stockings should not be viewable on top of your feet, my dear."

I couldn't believe her words, eerily similar to the ones in my earlier dream. I quietly cursed myself for not paying attention when I put my thigh high stockings on today, as I replied, looking down at my feet, "I understand."

I immediately put my foot on the chair and fixed the seam on my left foot and then fixed the seam on my right foot.

"Good girl," she again said, as if conditioning me to need her approval.

"Thank you, Mrs. Parks," I again replied, becoming more and more subservient to her and more and more willing to do whatever it took to get her complete approval.

She went to her desk and pressed the intercom, "Please bring me a pair of thigh high stockings, June."

"Of course, Mrs. Parks," June replied over the intercom. "What colour?"

"Black," Mrs. Parks answered.

"Yes, Mrs. Parks," June responded.

"Tomorrow," Mrs. Parks began, moving back towards me, "we will start your training under me."

Although the sentence was bland and logical, I heard all the potential sexual implications that could go with it, which made my panties dampen. "I can't wait to get started under you," I replied, trying to sound eager regardless of the situation, as I flashed to last night's vivid dream of being her pet. Yet, as soon as I said the words, I scolded myself for being so forward.

June came in and handed Mrs. Parks the package and left without a word being said by either of them.

Mrs. Parks explained, as she handed them to me, "Tomorrow, I want you to wear these. Treat them well, they are very expensive."

"I will, Mrs. Parks," I nodded, agreeing to both wearing them and to treating them with the utmost care.

"I know you will," Mrs. Parks responded. "Also, I expect you in a sexy dress for tomorrow as well as your sexiest lingerie underneath."

"Okay," I agreed, although my tone implied I was questioning her strange expectations of lingerie.

"Okay, what?" She asked, her tone implying she didn't care about my tone and was suddenly annoyed as hell.

"Okay, Mrs. Parks," I corrected, again feeling guilty for disappointing her.

"See you tomorrow," she said, returning to her desk.

"Have a great night, Mrs. Parks," I said, as I slipped back into my shoes.

"You too, Lily-girl," she responded, not looking at me.

I noticed the slight name change, but didn't say anything else as I left her office wondering what she had in store for me tomorrow.

That night, I tried on a few different dresses trying to decide which one would most please and entice Mrs. Parks. I tried on a red dress but felt it didn't enhance my breasts enough; I tried on a patterned sundress but that seemed too I'm-still-in-high-school; I tried on a sexy black dress but it was so short my lace top thigh highs would be in view for all to see; and I tried on a beige dress with a plunging v neckline that I was perfect...until I recalled the stockings that Mrs. Parks gave me were actually black and wouldn't go with the dress.

I sighed, decided to take a break and try on every set of lingerie I owned, although I didn't use the expensive thigh highs Mrs. Parks gave me, not wanting to do anything to damage them before tomorrow's training.

Tomorrow's training...what did that really mean?

I had a hunch, yet until the words were actually spoken I would have to just wait and see what transpired tomorrow. That said, I was willing to do whatever she asked, knowing that I was suddenly very curious to explore a new side of my sexuality.

Looking through my lingerie for something to wear tomorrow, I even found a pair of handcuffs and wondered if Mrs. Parks would be willing to use them on me. I briefly recalled the last time I used them and the sense of helplessness that went with it. Being bound and at the will of another person was a great turn on.

I briefly wondered what Mrs. Parks would do to me with handcuffs...she definitely seemed the type to use a pair in some naughty lesbian submission game.

Feeling frisky, I took some pictures of myself in a few different pieces of lingerie.

I realized I had a lot of lingerie I almost never got to wear for anyone and decided regardless of how tomorrow went I was going to start wearing sexy lingerie underneath my attire and when going to bed. I was going to dress sexy for me.

I put on my newest lingerie and took a couple of pictures of myself before deciding I needed to get myself off.

I grabbed my trusty good friend Mr. Blue, got on my hands and knees and tried to fuck myself from a submissive position.

Imagining my own version of what tomorrow would bring, I got myself off again this time not picturing Ryan Gosling at all, but imagining that I was made to be the submissive pet to Mrs. Parks.

Content with my choices for tomorrow, I took a long bath and then again did a couple of hours of studying for a test I had on Friday, wondering if I would have a lot of time tomorrow night or would my training take up the evening.

Yet again, I had another wet dream, another dream of potential lesbian submission to Mrs. Parks.

This time I was the one on the aggressive.

I don't know how I knew her cell number, but I texted her a picture of me in lingerie and thigh highs and said:

Mrs. Parks

Your pet is waiting for her training.

As soon as I texted it, I felt anxiety rush through me. What if I was wrong with my assumptions?

I mean, I assumed I wasn't. I generally was very good at reading people. Yet, this was potentially my career.

On the other hand, I couldn't handle another day of not knowing.

After a couple of excruciating minutes of waiting, Mrs. Parks texted back:

My pet

I will be back in my office in a few minutes. I expect you on the chair kneeling and waiting for me.

Mistress Parks

My cunt leaked into my panties at the two simple sentences and one powerful word. The first being the promise that she would be back soon; the second being a submissive position that clearly implied her expectations of me; the one word, on the other hand, cleared up, without a doubt, that I was right. That one word also meant the hierarchy of the relationship that was about to transpire was Mistress and submissive...and I was obviously the submissive.

I waited a few minutes, dying to touch myself, but wanting to wait and have that hopeful orgasm with Mrs. Parks, my Mistress.

I knelt on the chair, assuming it was the one I usually sat on, and waited.

Fifteen minutes became half an hour before she walked in and said, "Are you ready to be punished?"

"Yes, Mistress Parks," I replied, even though her words and angry tone surprised me.

"I like your eagerness, my pet," she began, before adding, "but I can't have you interrupting me when I am in meetings."

"Sorry," I whispered.

"Sorry, what?" she questioned.

"Sorry, Mistress," I corrected.

"Good girl," she nodded. "Now I know you are really eager to be my lesbian plaything, isn't that right?"

"Yes, Mistress," I responded, anticipation coursing through my very being.

"And a good pet understands that she is to wait to be called for," she continued, her hand slowly moving down my back.

"Yessssss, Mistress," I agreed.

"She understands that she is to be ready at a second's notice," she explained, as her hand reached my ass.

"Of course, Mistress," I nodded, my body trembling at her touch, "I will always be at your beck and call."

"Good girl," she repeated. "You do have one fine ass, my pet."

"Thank you, Mistress," I whimpered, hoping she would move her fingers to my heated pussy.

"Ever had a cock in that ass, my pet?" she questioned, her fingers going underneath my panties.

"No, Mistress," I answered, a sexual act that had never appealed to me.

"But you would for me?" she asked, her finger moving slowly between my ass cheeks.

"Yesssss, Mistress," I agreed, her touch melting me, knowing I would agree to almost anything to please her, to make her happy.

"Good," she purred, ever so softly, her finger teasing my rosebud.

Just as I thought she may slide her finger in my back door, she moved her hand away and gave me a firm spank.

I yelped at the sudden burn on my ass cheeks. She explained, "You will sit in this position until I return. You will not move at all, is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," I agreed, mixed feelings coursing through me.

She walked out of the office and I sat there for what seemed like an eternity. My pussy was wet, my knees sore and I had no idea when she would be back.

When the door opened after about fifteen minutes, it wasn't Mrs. Parks who came into the office, but Elizabeth, who ordered, "Stand up, Lily."

Although mortified to be seen in such a compromising position by a colleague, I obeyed assuming I was supposed to and was happy to get off my aching knees.

"Go over to the wall and stand there until Mrs. Parks returns," Elizabeth ordered, before leaving me alone again.

I walked over to where she instructed, thankful that she left...still humiliated by the whole situation and instantly wondering who else may know of my predicament or who else may also be a pet to Mrs. Parks.

I felt like I was back in elementary school and being sent to the corner for punishment.

Standing there, in only a bra and panties, I felt utterly vulnerable. I also felt cold as a cool breeze from an air vent blew down on me.

Suddenly, the door opened again and I prayed it was Mrs. Parks.

"Hands together in front of you," Mrs. Parks ordered.

I quickly obeyed, thankful that it was her and thankful to hear the door close.

"Why were you punished?" she asked.

"For not waiting for you to beckon me," I answered.

"And why did you send that text, my pet?" she asked, again right behind me.

"To let you know without a doubt that I'm willing to do anything for this company and for you," I answered.

"So you would serve all the employees if instructed?" she asked.

"I'm your slave, Mistress," I answered, giving myself to her completely. "I'll do whatever you tell me to."

"You'll suck off customers to finish off a deal?" she asked, her hands again on my ass.

"And swallow their load or take it all over my face," I answered, wanting to show her how completely submissive I was.

"And if three men are at a deal closing?" she questioned, moving her hands up and cupping my breasts.

"Well, Mistress, I have three holes," I responded, even though I had never even been with two men at once. Did I want to be the centerpiece to an orgy? No. Would I do it to please Mrs. Parks? Yes.

"Good news, my pet," she purred, kissing the back of my neck.

"Yes, Mistress," I moaned softly.

"I would never make you do such things," she revealed. "I just wanted to know if you would."

"I'd do anything for you, Mistress," I replied, even as a huge sigh of relief coursed through me at not having to do the things I just promised I would do.

"And you will be rewarded for such obedience," she said. "Turn around, my pet."

I did, a rush of adrenaline coursing through me at what might lie ahead.

"On your knees, my pet," she ordered, looking me directly in the eyes.

Never breaking eye contact, I obeyed, lowering myself to my knees, as I replied, "Yes, Mistress."

My arms at my sides, I waited for my next orders attempting to look eager and submissive.

"What do you want, my pet?" she asked, looking down at me.

"To lick your pussy, Mistress," I admitted.

"You mean my cunt?" she corrected.

I didn't love the 'C' word, but if that was what she was going to use, I would too. "Yes, Mistress, I want to lick your cunt."

She lifted up her dress, revealing she wasn't wearing any panties. She asked, "Is this what you want to lick, my pet?"

"God, yes," I nodded, staring at her completely shaved pussy, I mean cunt.

"Go ahead, my pet," she offered, grabbing the back of my head and guiding me to her pussy.

I extended my tongue and just as I was about to lick perfection I woke up. AGAIN!!!

Opening my eyes, my hand in my panties, I cursed myself. Why did I wake up every time just before the final act of submission? Looking back I now realize never having tasted her pussy, or any other pussy, before my subconscious had no reference for me to dream about it. Thus making me wake up before I licked her in my dream.

I quickly rubbed myself, wondering what her pussy would taste like. Wondering if tomorrow these crazy, vivid, authentic dreams would finally come to fruition.

Coming hard in only a couple of minutes, an idea popped into my head. I knew exactly what I was going to wear tomorrow underneath my dress...even though I still wasn't sure which dress I planned to wear for my hopeful final submission.

I went to my lingerie drawer and grabbed the sexy black numbers. I then grabbed the new high heels I wasn't even sure I could walk in all day.

I was definitely going to make it clear, without even a shadow of a doubt that I was willing to be her submissive plaything.

Happy with my choices, I returned to bed giddy with anticipation of the night that lay ahead. I closed my eyes, but honestly I didn't get the greatest sleep, my mind playing all the different possibilities of tomorrow

.....

I woke up filled with trepidation. What if I was reading the signs wrong and she didn't have any sexual interest in me?

On the flipside, what if she did?

Was I ready to be in a relationship with a woman? Would it be an actual relationship? Did I want to be in a relationship? Did I just want the submissive sex I was already fantasizing?

I could spend hours psychoanalyzing myself, but decided 'fuck it', I would just take the day as fate meant it to be. I wouldn't push to force the issue nor resist whatever Mrs. Parks had in store.

In the end, after sleeping on it, I choose a sexy dress, one so short it didn't even attempt to completely cover the lace top stockings and none of them at all if I walked or sat down.

The thigh highs she gave me to wear were like silk heaven...as they not only made my legs look utterly fantastic, somehow making them look longer, but they felt so soft that I found myself petting my own legs on more than one occasion.

She said we would begin the training today...TRAINING...what a complex word with so many completely different meanings...and which one did I want to apply when my training with Mrs. Parks began?

I was so excited and nervous about the day that I barely heard a word my profs said all morning. 

Instead, I kept playing in my head all the different possible scenarios that may occur this afternoon. The reality was I needed to know one way or another what Mrs. Parks expected from me because it was consuming my every waking moment.

For the second day in a row, I got a lot of looks from the boys for my attire, dressing way sexier than anyone else on campus for morning lectures. It made me feel good and a bit slutty knowing I was also getting looks from girls who saw me as a complete skank.

But I didn't care. Mrs. Parks had opened up a part of me that was usually dormant and I enjoyed the looks and the feeling of being wanted.

I barely ate any of my salad for lunch before getting to work early, filled with anticipation and trepidation...knowing I would soon have the answer to what her expectations were once and for all.

I arrived early and waited for almost an hour for Mrs. Parks to return from lunch. She ordered, ignoring the fact that she was late, "Come in, Lily and June please hold my calls. I'm not to be interrupted this afternoon for any reason."

"Of course, Mrs. Parks," June nodded.

I followed Mrs. Parks in and closed the door without instructions. 

She said, as she walked to her desk and took off her blazer. "You should probably lock it."

Her ominous instructions sent butterflies to my stomach and made my panties instantly dampen with anticipation for something that I didn't know I had remotely wanted just a week ago.

"Of course, Mrs. Parks," I obeyed, locking the door and beginning to walk to the chair in front of her desk.

"Stop," she ordered.

I froze, yet somehow decided to pose wanting to showcase my curves, which this dress did a great job of showcasing.

"The top half of your dress is much less risqué, but every step you take I can see your lace top stockings," she pointed out.

I replied, "It was the only dress I owned I felt really matched the stockings you insisted I wear."

"Fair enough," she nodded. "Take a seat."

I moved to the chair, sat down, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous, like I used to be on first dates in high school, as she sat behind her desk. She asked, "How has the week been so far?"

I answered, surprised by the mundane question, "A bit overwhelming. There are so many people here. I didn't realize just how big the firm was."

She nodded, "We are not only the biggest in the city, but in the entire state."

"It's an honour to be a part of it," I responded, meaning that completely from the work opportunity point of view.

"Yes, it is," she concurred. "Do you know how many people applied for the job you got?"

"I have no idea," I admitted, knowing from waiting at least three others were interviewed.

"A hundred and ninety-five," she revealed. "From that number we did reference checks on twenty-five, did phone interviews with fifteen and brought seven in for personal interviews," she revealed.

A wave of pride coursed through me at the reality that out of almost two hundred applicants, I was chosen. I said, "I'm very flattered that you chose me, Mrs. Parks."

"You have the potential, with some training, to be a very valuable asset to this company and to me," she continued. Her words were flattering, yet her facial expression didn't match her words, showing no emotion at all.




"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet



"I'm willing to do anything to help this company," I replied, thinking to myself I meant both professionally and personally. So I added, "And, of course, you, Mrs. Parks."

She stood up and asked, "And just out of curiosity, what do you mean by those last words, Lily?"

I silently cursed to myself. I had decided to let whatever happened in this office this afternoon happen, yet I sure didn't want to be the one to say it. I didn't want to be wrong and humiliate myself, even though I was pretty positive I was correct. 

My legs trembled with anxiety as my next words could seal my fate with this company, although what that fate would be was still to be determined.

"I believe in doing whatever it takes to get the job done," I finally answered, avoiding saying anything of substance at all.

"And what exactly does that mean?" she asked, as she moved in front of me and leaned on her desk.

I knew she would see through generic nothingness, but hoped she would at least give me an olive branch to climb on, some sign that I was right.

I took a deep breath and rattled out rather fast before I could stop the words, "Making sure my boss is completely satisfied."

"Hmmmmm," she nodded, but asked, as she hopped onto her desk, "and how does an employee make sure the boss is completely satisfied?"

I felt this was the olive branch, an incredibly small one, but as she slowly crossed her legs in front of me, I sensed this was the window of opportunity.

I took a deep breath, looked up at her, risking everything, and silently dropped to my knees, exactly as I had in my dream just a couple of nights ago.

"Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words, they say," she began, looking down at me, before adding. "But I believe an action speaks a million."

"Then let me speak millions," I responded eagerly.

"Stand up," she ordered, her tone deceivingly unemotional.

I obeyed.

"Turn around," she ordered.

I again obeyed, a chill going up my spine.

"Lift up your dress," she instructed. "Let's see that ass of yours."

The dress tight, I used both hands to slowly tug up the dress.

"A thong," she said in an approving tone, "very, very nice."

"Thank you, Mistress, I wore it for you," I admitted, then realized what I had said in the heat of the moment accidentally, just like I had in my dream.

"Mistress," she smiled, "I like that."

"A good pet has a Master and you are mine," I said, somehow completely buying in to the odd words I was saying.

"Excellent," she nodded. "You will always refer to me as Mistress when we are alone or travelling."

"Of course, Mistress," I nodded, wondering where she planned to take me.

"And those heels are incredibly sexy," she continued, before adding, "they really accentuate your legs, particularly with those thigh high stockings."

"I completely agree, Mistress," I nodded. "Thank you for opening me up to a new fashion sense."

"You're welcome," she replied. "As I mentioned before, a woman in the business world needs to look both professional and sexy at all times."

"Understood."

"Turn back around," she ordered.

I again obeyed, sensing the final moment of submission, the one that always was denied to me in my dreams, was almost at hand.

"I have a question I didn't get to ask you during the interview because it went on quite a tangent. What are the best traits of a dog?" she asked.

Although the question was undoubtedly strange, I wasn't rattled by the question at all. I instantly knew the answer she was looking for as I answered, "Loyalty and obedience."

"Very good," she nodded, before adding, "And they are trainable."

"Although only with patience and firm discipline," I added, trying to hint at my own obedience and my willingness to do whatever it takes.

"They are also very enthusiastic," she added.

"If I didn't know any better I would think you are describing me," I smiled coyly.

"Interesting thought," she smiled for the first time, "Do you know why I picked you?"

"No, Mistress," I replied.

"I could see the longing buried deep within you," she answered.

"Really?" I asked. "To be honest, I have never considered anything like this with another female before...before...um."

"Before me?" she finished my sentence.

"Yet, I'm guessing you definitely are submissive to your male partners," she continued.

"Mostly," I nodded, in awe that she somehow saw all this in me during our original interview.

"I would say more than mostly," she continued. "Your eagerness to please was very clear during your interview."

"It was?" I asked, still bewildered by her assessment of me.

"Crystal clear," she nodded. "Now it's inspection time, my pet."

Hearing her call me her pet sent a chill up my spine and dispelled the last lingering doubt I had over what was going to happen today, although all doubt should have faded long ago.

"Okay," I said, looking up at her waiting for further instruction.

"Take off your heels, my pet," she ordered, "I want to take a good look at your stocking-clad feet."

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, quite happy to get out of the high heels that were literally killing my feet, my ankles and my back.

"But do it as sexily as possible," she added.

I started to slowly slip out of my one heel when she stopped me.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head, "use your whole body as a weapon. Your legs, hips and lips."

"Oh, okay," I nodded, although I wasn't confident I could do it right. I loved dancing and wasn't remotely self-conscious on a dance floor, but both times I had attempted sexy stripteases for boyfriends I had felt like a complete fool.

I slowly slid my foot out, while holding a pose and letting out a slight moan that made my lips I hoped look sensual.

"Very nice," she nodded, "You really are a quick learner."

I smiled, one heel on, one heel off, and added, "And always eager to learn new things."

"You've never been with a woman, have you?" she asked.

"No," I shook my head.

"But you are considering it now?" she asked.

"The decision has already been made," I replied, slipping out of my other heel.

She looked down and said, "You do have very sexy feet."

"Thank you, Mistress," I nodded.

"So, let's conclude the inspection," she said. "Painted toenails, check, Thigh high stockings I ordered you to wear, check. Sexy panties, check."

My face flushed as I was inspected like I was a piece of property.

"But what about the bra?" she pondered, looking directly at my breasts, still covered by my dress, "Is it as sexy as the rest of your attire?"

"Do you want me to take off my dress, Mistress?" I asked, trying to be as submissive as possible.

"Yes, my pet," she nodded.

No longer remotely nervous, I began lifting the dress over my head. Unfortunately, because it was so tight, I really struggled and actually briefly got stuck.

"Need a hand?' she asked, clearly amused.

"Maybe two," I joked.

She assisted and finished taking my dress off for me.

Once off, she nodded, "You really do have one tight, perfect little body."

If a man said such words I would have called him a sexist pig, yet when she said them I felt flattered.

"Thank you, Mistress," I replied.

"So sexy bra, check," she nodded, before moving her hand to my very damp panties.

"Wet cunt, check" she announced, before asking, "Why are your panties so soaking wet, my pet?"

"Enthusiasm and anticipation," I replied, trying to keep the pet analogy working.

"Anticipation for what?" She asked, her finger tracing my pussy lips through the panties.

"Submitting to you," I moaned softly, her touch driving me wild.

"So you want to be my unconditional pet?" She asked, tapping her fingers on my clit.

"G-G-God, yessss," I trembled as she tapped on my clit more.

"And you understand that it will come with very clear expectations," she continued.

"Of course, Mistress," I nodded, "a pet needs to know her boundaries."

"And show me what a pet does to show she understands her boundaries," she ordered, as she moved to her desk and sat on it.

I walked to her, dropped to my knees and took off her right heel and began gently massaging her foot. The silk was so soft that I wanted to splatter her leg with kisses, and feel them wrapped around me. Yet, I focused on the submissive act, waiting to be told what to do, to be guided in this journey of lesbian submission.

She didn't speak at all as I gently massaged her toes, foot, ankle and calf.

Wordlessly, she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs and I took off her other five inch heel and replicated the dedicated, gentle, massage of her foot.

Once done, when she didn't give an order, I took initiative wanting to show my undying loyalty, I leaned forward and kissed the top of her foot.

"Lick the sole of my foot, my pet," she ordered, finally speaking.

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, lifting her foot up and licking the sole of her foot as ordered. It was an odd mixture of sweat, leather and nylon and somehow it turned me on even more.

"Now the other," she instructed a moment later.

I replicated the act on her other foot while she continued listing her expectations of me. "You won't date."

I nodded, even as I wondered if this made her my girlfriend.

"You will have a travel bag here ready to go at a minute's notice," she explained. 

"Okay, Mistress," I agreed.

"I'll give you a company credit card to purchase the various items you will need for excursions," she continued.

"Thank you, Mistress, that is very generous," I said.

"I'm a very generous Mistress, my pet," she replied, before adding, "Now get on all fours,"

"Yes, Mistress," I said, as I got in the position she instructed.

"Crawl to the door," she ordered, "it's time to take my pet for a walk."

For the first time since this whole crazy situation began, I felt massive trepidation and anxiety. Was she going to ask me to crawl out in the office like this?

Yet, again I obeyed, walking to the door, praying that, like the declarations of complete slut-dom, this was another test.

"I probably should get you a collar and a leash," she said, as I reached the door.

Strangely, like everything else she said, it somehow turned me on.

"Do you want to go for a walk, my pet?" she asked.

I didn't remotely want to go for a walk. I wanted to crawl to her and bury my face between her legs. Yet, I replied like the obedient submissive I was, "If Mistress wants to take me for a walk."

"Good girl," she nodded, "You passed the final test."

"I did?" I asked, still staring at the door...the only thing that separated me from complete humiliation.

"You mentioned loyalty, obedience and training," she explained, "but there is also, of course, the most important of all."

"More important than loyalty?" I asked, looking back at her.

"Yes," she nodded, "it's a five letter word."

I tried to come up with a word that was only five letters long, but other than loyal, which was already covered by loyalty, I came up blank.

"Crawl back to me, my pet," she ordered.

I obeyed, crawling like a dog to her, even as I wracked my brain to figure out the word.

Reaching her, she ordered, "Give me your sexiest pose, my pet?"

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, wondering what would be a sexy pose. I wanted to look submissive and yet seductive...I wanted her to want me.

I remained on my knees knowing that is a very submissive position and while looking up at her the whole time, I allowed my bra straps to fall off my shoulders.

Knowing that women get turned on by slow teasing and imagination, I then cupped my small, but firm breasts.

I looked up at her, trying to look vulnerable and sexy.

"Are your nipples hard?" she asked.

"Like diamonds," I replied, my nipples getting stiff very easily.

"What are your weak spots, my pet?" she asked.

"What do you mean, Mistress?" I asked, confused by the question.

"If someone wants to get you revved up and ready to fuck, what are your hot buttons?"

"Before I met you?" I asked, before adding, "because I think I have some new hot buttons I didn't know existed."

"That's flattering," she nodded, "but yes, before me."

"Well, I love getting my nipples sucked or nibbled," I said.

"But what gets you hot when you're still dressed?" she asked.

"Ohhhhh," I nodded. "Either kissing my neck from behind or the touching of my thigh when I'm in a dress or skirt. The hot breath on my neck or a hand on my thigh both instantly trigger wetness in my pussy."

"You mean your cunt," she corrected.

"Yes, Mistress, my wet cunt," I corrected, somehow loving saying 'cunt', a word I found repulsive before meeting Mrs. Parks.

"Show me more of those tits, my pet," she ordered.

My knees getting sore, I repositioned myself on just one knee as I attempted to show more.

I was about to take off my bra when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"For fuck's sake," she cursed, clearly pissed off. "I fucking told her I was not to be disturbed."

I quickly put my bra back on, petrified to be caught in such a compromising outfit or position.

"Crawl under my desk," she ordered.

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, grabbing my dress and heels and quickly moving under her dress.

She went to the door and opened it just as I was completely under her desk.

"Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Parks," a female voice said. "But, Mrs. Hamilton is here and is insisting on meeting with you."

"Fine, send her in," Mrs. Parks ordered.

The door closed and Mrs. Parks walked back to her desk, sat on her chair and looked down at me. "Well, this will really make for an interesting training. You will kiss every inch of my feet and legs while I meet with Mrs. Hamilton."

"Okay," I nodded, even though I was mortified and disappointed. Like in my dreams, every time I get close to finally submitting completely, it doesn't happen.

"Oh, are you pouting, my pet?" she asked.

I didn't know I was, but likely I was.

"Show me your best pout," she ordered. "I imagine you have mastered the pout with lips like those."

I laughed to myself, because I had manipulated my dad with what he called 'the pout', I had manipulated most boyfriends with 'the pout' and had got out of more than one speeding ticket with 'the pout'.

She laughed, "That is even more adorable than I anticipated."

The intercom came on and informed Mrs. Parks that Mrs. Hamilton was waiting.

Looking down at me, she smiled and promised, "Don't worry, my pet, I promise you will not leave here today until you have begun your training and if you do a good job I may even reward you with a nice hard fucking."

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, her words going directly to my cunt.

As she rolled her chair in, spreading her legs, she said, "Let her in."

She slipped back out of her heels, and put her foot to my mouth. I again kissed and licked her foot, this time splattering every inch of her foot with kisses. I wanted to move up between her legs and bury my face in her cunt, but knew that wasn't the order.

The next few minutes felt like an eternity as I continued pleasuring both her feet, ankles and calves as I vaguely listened to the conversation. Mrs. Parks was very patient as she calmed down the woman, who was furious at an error made in last year's tax return.

I was moving up her leg at a snail's pace, now at her knees, when she rolled her chair away. She said, "Mrs. Hamilton, we can continue this conversation next week after I personally look through your return."

"Good," the woman replied.

As soon as she was gone, Mrs. Parks locked the door and ordered, "Crawl to me, my pet."

I eagerly crawled out from underneath the desk, crawled to her as she asked, "Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

"I was drawing you in with my sexy charm," I responded, looking up at her.

"Well, it's working," she laughed. "By the way, you were very good underneath the desk."

"Thank you, Mistress," I replied.

"Next time, maybe I'll let you bury yourself between my legs," she teased. Before I could say anything, my mouth instantly watering at the possibility, she said, "So, let's continuing your training. Using the stool, give me a sexy pose that portrays your understanding of the five letter word."

'Damn' I thought to myself, I still hadn't figured out the word.

She looked down at me and spelt it out, "T-R-U-S-T."

"Trust, of course,' I thought to myself, the answer so obvious now, like on Wheel of Fortune when you're missing just a few letters and can't solve the puzzle and when it is finally revealed you're like 'Oh, man was that simple'.

I stood up, pondered a pose before deciding to modify one from an earlier dream, making it even sexier, yet completely vulnerable.

I put my hands on the stool, in only lingerie, one leg up on the stool and one on the floor which I felt achieved the order.

My ass was on perfect display, as was the rest of my body.

"Very nice," she purred, before moving to me and sliding her hand down my back.

"Thank you, Mistress," I replied, my pussy instantly tingling, her touch magical.

"I think you're finally ready, my pet," she said, her hand continuing to move lower to my ass.

"I'm ready for whatever you want me for, Mistress," I declared, even as my body trembled at her touch.

"I know you are," she whispered, leaning forward and kissing my back as her hand went between my legs and to my wet panties. "And that is why I am about to reward you."

"Yesssss, Mistress," I moaned, as her finger traced my excessively moist pussy lips.

"Are you ready for your treat, Lily?" she asked, using my name for the first time.

Hearing my name used startled me. I had become so immersed in the submission of being Mrs. Parks' pet, that I had become 'her pet' or 'her slut'...Lily fading from existence. After a moment, I nodded, "I've never been more ready for anything in my life, Mistress."

"Once you get this treat, Lily," she continued, her tone still firm, as her finger continued to tease my pussy lips, "There is no going back. You will be mine, mind, body and soul."

Although I knew she was not bluffing, and although I knew my life would be completely different from this moment forward, I knew with complete confidence it was what I wanted. I replied, "I gave you my mind, body and soul the minute you hired me, Mistress. I want to be the best employee you've ever hired, and your most obedient, loyal pet."

"Come and sit down, my pet," she ordered, as she sat on the edge of her desk.

Thrilled to be off my weary knees, I stood up, stretched quickly and sat down directly in front of her.

"You've definitely passed your day one training so far," she said, opening her legs slightly.

"Thank you, Mistress," I smiled, "I aim to obey."

"Show me sensual with those lips, my pet," she ordered.

Beginning to understand what she was looking for, I pursed my lips

"That is sexy, my pet," she nodded, as she opened her legs more.

"Have you fantasized about this moment?" she asked.

"Every day this week," I admitted.

"How did it end?" she asked, opening her legs wider so I could just get a glimpse of her pink panties.

"Honestly," I said, "not well."

"Really? She asked.

"Yes, I always woke up just before final submission," I admitted.

====================================================================================

AUTHOR'S NOTE:::::

From this point one there will be two parallel narratives.

To continue with Lily's lesbian submission continue reading.

If you want to read a surprise ALTERATE ENDING...go to the end of the original version or read this one to its completion and the ALTERNATE ENDING will follow.

END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE

====================================================================================




"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet



"And what is final submission?" she questioned, opening her legs more.

I stared between her legs, wondering what it would taste like, and smell like.

I bit my lip, desperate to cross the final invisible line of complete sexual submission.

Finally I spoke, "Um, pleasing you."

"How?" she asked, clearly amused by my nervousness.

"Licking your pussy," I answered, trying to get a better look between her legs.

"You mean my cunt?" she corrected me again, lifting her ass up and tugging her panties down.

"Yes, your cunt, Mistress," I nodded, watching her panties slide down her legs.

"Finish taking them off, my pet," she ordered.

My hands trembling again, this time with excitement, I reached over and finished taking her panties off.

"Smell them," she ordered.

I moved them to my nose and smelt the wet panties. As fantasized, her scent was exotic and it enhanced even more my desire to match the scent with the taste.

"You are such an obedient little pet," she purred.

"Can I taste you, Mistress?" I asked, no longer able to wait to taste her.

"Beg," she ordered, moving her finger between her already very wet glistening cunt lips.

I had never had to beg before. Men just shoved their cock in my mouth or pussy. I looked up at her and pleaded, "Mistress, may I please lick your beautiful cunt and become your cunt craving, pussy pleasing, slut submissive, pet?"

"Mmmmmmmmm," she moaned, opening her legs wide. "Did you imagine you would ever say those words, my pet?"

"Not in a million years," I replied, staring at her cunt, my mouth watering so much I was practically drooling with anticipation at what was about to happen.

"Again, once you lick my cunt, I own you," she reminded me, parting her pussy lips with her finger.

"I'm your slave, Mistress," I replied, still staring between her legs.

"Call me Mistress Katherine," she ordered.

"Of course, Mistress Katherine," I obeyed, adding her first name to the dominant title somehow making this moment of submission more intimate.

She moved her finger away from her pussy and towards my lips.

I immediately leaned forward and took her finger in my mouth. It was barely a sampling, but I instantly wanted to taste more. I wanted to envelope myself with her legs, smell and taste, I wanted to be on my knees, between her legs and serving her. I wanted to hear her moan, whimper and then scream with joy.

I bobbed on her finger like it was a cock, retrieving ever last remnant from her finger, desperate to show her my insatiable hunger to taste her.

"Go ahead, my slut, retrieve your reward for being a good pet."

I didn't hesitate, the words finally said, and knowing I couldn't wake up this time and be disappointed. I leaned forward, extended my tongue and gave my mind, body and soul to my Mistress.

Her scent was very strong and exotic, and her taste was equally exotic and unexplainable.

Being between her legs felt so natural, like I was born to be there.

Unlike sucking cock, which was a task and a means to an end, licking cunt was enjoyable, exotic (I know I keep using that word, but no other word does justice to the smell, taste and feelings I was having), and intoxicating.

I licked slowly, parting her pussy lips and trying to get more of her wetness in my mouth.

She moaned, "That's it, explore every inch of your Mistress's cunt."

"Yes, Mistress Katherine," I responded, as I continued slowly licking.

"My cunt has been wet all day waiting for this moment, my slut," she continued.

"Mine too," I moaned, my panties completely soaked.

"I can't wait for all the naughty adventures we are going to have, my pet. I have searched for a long time, for the right girl."

I was flattered and yet curious, why me? Yet, instead of asking, I concentrated on pleasing her.

"But I knew you were the one the moment you walked in here last week," she continued, her hands going through my hair. "You were my Pygmalion."

I smiled, as I continued licking. Audrey Hepburn was my idol and My Fair Lady my favourite musical, although I really loved Grease as well.

"Lick my asshole, my pet," she ordered.

My mind in a submissive trance, I moved lower and awkwardly licked her rosebud.

"That's it, my pet, make love to every inch of my downtown area," she purred.

I had never licked an asshole, but as I licked hers, slightly sweaty, I wanted to be the best ass licker there was.

Yet, after only a few seconds, she pulled me back up to her pussy. "Now focus on my clit, my young pussy pleaser."

I obeyed, moving to her clit and swirling my tongue around it.

"Oh, yesss, that's it, my pet," she moaned, "worship my cunt."

I wanted to worship every part of her; I wanted to get her off; I wanted to taste her cum; I wanted to feel her pussy juice coat my face.

I licked hungrily now, her moans increasing.

"Don't stop, you hungry fucking slut," she ordered, when I took a brief pause.

"Sorry, Mistre...." I was cut off as she grabbed my head and held it deep in her cunt.

I eagerly licked, as she held my head. She began moving her ass, grinding on my face which turned me on more. She was using me for her personal pleasure, My face got wetter and wetter and after a couple of minutes of being face fucked by her cunt, I felt her legs stiffen beside me and suddenly felt my face get splattered with wetness. Unlike the loads of cum I took on my face, this was wetter and not as warm, but tasted way better. I lapped it up, wanting to consume her pussy juice, wanting to savour her cum.

Eventually, she let go of my head, and I looked up at her with the insatiable lust that had consumed me.

"You look very good between my legs," she complimented.

"I love being between your legs," I replied back.

"And you look absolutely hot with my pussy cum on your lips," she continued.

I instinctively licked my lips, wanting to retrieve any pussy juice still on them.

"It's hard to believe you have never munched cunt," she said, "you are not only amazing at it, but you clearly loved it."

"I guess I'm a late bloomer," I smiled.

"Better late than never," she laughed back.

I hope to make up for lost time," I quipped back.

"Mmmmmmm," she nodded. "Is my pet's cunt wet?"

"It's soaked my panties, Mistress Katherine," I admitted.

"Now, so you know, I don't eat cunt," she said. "But I do fuck cunt."

"You're the boss," I nodded, not remotely concerned about how I got off.

"Go lay down on the floor, my eager little lez," she ordered.

"Yes, Mistress Katherine," I obeyed, curious what she had in store for me next. Once on the ground, I tried to look as sexy as possible.

"Touch yourself, like you did while fantasizing about submitting to me, my little slut," she ordered.

I moved my left hand down to my wet panties, slid my hand inside them and began rubbing my fevered cunt lips.

"Did you fuck yourself every night this week, my slut?" she asked.

"Yessssss," I moaned, my orgasm beginning to rise instantly.

"Did I give you permission to come?" she asked, her playful tone suddenly firm.

"No, Mistress Katherine," I admitted, but tried to defend myself, "but you weren't my Mistress yet when I masturbated."

"But you wanted me to be?" she questioned.

"Yes," I again admitted, before clarifying, "although the first couple days it was more confusion of my feelings than the reality that I wanted to be your submissive."

"Fair enough," she nodded, looking down at me. "But from now on, you only come when I give you permission, is that clear?

"My pussy, no, my cunt is yours, Mistress Katherine," I declared, yet again giving myself to her completely, even as my own orgasm was building.

"Stop!" she ordered.

I obeyed.

Move your hands away from that fuck box of yours," she instructed.

I again obeyed.

"Don't move," she demanded, before going to her desk. She returned a moment later with a camera.

"Ready to make some photographic memories to remember forever the day you went from straight to gay and became my full-time pet?"

I should've been scared or worried by a camera, but having given myself to her unconditionally, I had complete trust in her.

So I replied, like the complete submissive I had become in just one week, "I wish you would have taken some of me when I was between your legs, Mistress Katherine."

"The video cameras there, there and there, likely got it," she answered, pointing to cameras in three different corners of the office.

"Good," I smiled, happy my final submission was recorded for posterity.

"Pose for me," she instructed.

I did, as she took a few pictures.

Each picture somehow turned me on more and more. Some I smiled, some I moaned and some I looked vulnerable.

"That's it," she purred, "touch yourself for me."

I needed no more further instructions, as I moved my hands under my panties and to my fevered cunt.

"Go slow, my pet. This isn't a race," she instructed.

I obeyed, even though I just wanted to come and come now.

"All good things come to those who wait," she continued.

"Then this may kill me," I joked.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," she joked back, as she moved her stocking-clad foot to my crotch. "Do you need some help?"

"Yes," I moaned as her foot put pressure on my clit.

"Take your panties off," she instructed.

I didn't hesitate as I tugged them down my legs and tossed them aside.

"A shaved box, now that is a pleasant surprise," she approved, looking at my recently shaved cunt.

"I did it for you," I replied.

"I know you did," she nodded, as her foot went back to my pussy. She slowly moved her toes between my lips, which was both erotically stimulating and yet equally teasing.

I moaned softly at her touch, watching her intensely.

"How bad do you want to come, my pet?" she asked.

"Soooooo bad," I moaned.

She parted my pussy lips with her toes and said, "You're like a dog in heat, my pet."

I don't know why I did it, but the sound came out before I had a chance to think about it, "Woof!"

"Hilarious," she smiled down at me, before asking, "It's obvious you're submissive, my pet, so tell me about a couple of your naughty sexual encounters."

I pondered this a moment before warning, "Most of these include alcohol. I get a few drinks in me and, well, my morals drop quickly."

"Good to know," she smiled, continuing to slowly tease my pussy.

"Well, last Halloween the guy I was dating dressed up as a teacher and I as a student and after a few drinks I ended up tied to his bed where he fucked me for hours, coming half a dozen times."

"In you?" she asked.

"In my cunt, on my tits and mostly on my face," I admitted, "Men love coming on my face."

"It's because you are so cute," she declared.

"And men are pigs." I added, her toes driving me wild with teasing.

"Well, yes and that," she laughed. "My husband loves coming on my tits."

"Who wouldn't, they're so big," I agreed, looking up at them and wishing she would take her blouse off.

"Any other slutty encounters?" she asked.

"Well, I get turned on by public sex," I admitted.

"Details," she demanded.

"I've done it in a park in broad daylight, at a party with another couple sleeping right beside us, in an office with the door not completely shut and on a hiking trail," I admitted.

"You like the thrill of getting caught, don't you?" she asked, putting her foot directly on my clit.

"It both turns me on and scares the crap out of me," I admitted.

"So you want to be both taken seriously as a professional and a woman, yet conversely be used and fucked as a dirty little slut," she questioned.

"Yes," I nodded, "I hate myself for it once I come and settle down, but when I'm revved up like this, or have a few drinks in me, I am desperate to be someone's slut."

"Well, you're my slut now," she declared, moving her foot away.

"Forever," I responded, even though such a one word promise was ludicrous.

"Take off your bra," she ordered. "It's time to see those titties."

""They're pretty small," I admitted.

"Sometimes size doesn't matter," she smiled.

"May I sit up, Mistress?" I asked.

"Briefly," she nodded.

I sat up and took off my bra, immediately self-conscious about my small breasts.

"You weren't lying," she smiled, "your nipples are definitely hard as diamonds."

"What can I say," I shrugged, "you make my whole body a dishevelled mess."

She reached down and pinched my nipples.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," I moaned, a mixture of pleasure and pain instantly triggered a gush that began to run down my legs.

As she cupped my breasts, she continued the compliment, "Your tits are perfect, my pet. Not too big, not too small."

"But just right," I finished with a smile, as if we were reading Goldilocks and the three bears.

"And I plan to test that theory in every way," she warned, giving my nipples one last pinch.

I wondered what that may all include, but just nodded, "Of course, Mistress, I'm, looking forward to acing this test."

"Lay back down," she ordered.

I again obeyed, eager to find out what she planned to do to me next.

"Rub yourself, my little slut, but don't you dare come," she ordered.

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress," I said, as I immediately moved to my fevered pussy, no, cunt, and started rubbing.

I looked up and watched as she took off her blouse, revealing a sexy black lace bra. She cupped her breasts and said, "You see these are big, but a pain in the ass to carry around all day."

"I guess soooo," I moaned, immediately feeling my orgasm beckoning.

She then took off her skirt and allowed it to drop to the floor again revealing her perfect pussy.

My mouth instantly watered, wanting to taste her again, get her off again.

"I think you're drooling," she accused, looking down at me.

"I'm like Pavlov's dog for your cunt," I playfully replied, bringing the earlier dog metaphor full circle.

"You're fucking adorable," she laughed.

"Thank yoooou," I moaned, continuing to rub myself.

"That's it, my slut," she purred, "get that cunt nice and wet for me."

"Already theeeeere," I moaned, my cunt never feeling wetter, more ready, than it did at this exact moment.

"No, no, no," she clarified, "I want your cunt the wettest it's ever been."

"Toooooooo late," I moaned, knowing I could reach orgasm in an instant if given permission.

She laughed, "No, I mean every time you think you've reached your wettest, you push for wetter."

"Okay," I nodded, unsure I could do that and still keep myself from having an orgasm.

I had to slow down to not explode, like a cannon that had already had its fuse lit.

She walked over to the chair I had been sitting on, turned it around, sat down and said, "Stop."

I did, although my body was going crazy with the starting and stopping.

"Now crawl to me," she ordered.

Reluctantly, ignoring the reality that my orgasm was begging for release, I said, "Yes, Mistress Katherine."

Reaching her, she crossed her legs and ordered, "Hump my leg, like the horny bitch you are."

"Okayyyy," I agreed, tentatively, unsure how to properly do the task ordered.

"Straddle my foot, my slut," she instructed.

"Oh, okay," I nodded happy to have instructions. I straddled her leg, moved awkwardly down, grabbed her foot and lowered my wet pussy on it.

"Now hump my foot, you eager little slut," she demanded.

Although never overly comfortable, the act of submission, the humiliating kinkiness of it, kept me wet and excited.

"Good girl," she purred, putting her hands on my shoulders.

I wondered as I rubbed myself on her foot, two things: could I get off this way, and could I fit her toes inside my cunt?

"Remember slut, no coming, I've got something very special for your orgasm. Just get that hot box of yours ready," she ordered, foreshadowing even more kinkiness.

"Okaaaaaay," I moaned, my long held-back orgasm finally, hopefully, in the near future.

"Faster, my pet, I really want you to hump my foot," she ordered.

"Yes, Mistresssssss," I moaned, obeying the task, although still finding the position awkward.

After another minute or so, my knees beginning to get sore in this position, she ordered, "back on your back, my pet."

Happy to change positions, I quickly obeyed, hoping she was finally going to allow me to reach the volcanic eruption that had been bubbling inside me forever.

"Now, I like your heels, my pet, they are very cute," she complimented, reaching down and grabbing one of my high heels.

"Thank you, Mistress," I nodded.

"Of course, I expect you to be in five inch heels eventually," she continued.

"I'm trying, Mistress," I replied, "I've been practicing every night."

"And you will continue to do so," she nodded, kneeling down between my legs.

"Until I have it mastered, Mistress Katherine," I nodded, watching her with hunger.

"Good girl," she smiled, moving my heel between my pussy lips.

"Ahhhhhh," I whimpered, as soon as the heel made contact.

"Ready to come, my pet?" she asked, "I've been teasing you for a long, long time."

"Whenever you are willing, Mistress," I moaned.

"Fuck yourself with your heel," she ordered.

Such an act was again extreme, yet I didn't hesitate, taking the shoe from her and moving the heel to my cunt. I slid the heel into my cunt and began fucking myself. As soon as I began pumping my cunt with the heel, I wished I had, in fact, worn the five inch heels so I could fill myself deeper.

"Such an obedient slut," she purred.

"Your slutttt," I declared again.

"I know," she nodded, moving to her desk.

I quickly got frustrated, as the heel wasn't long enough or thick enough to get me off, instead just continuing the lengthy teasing that was now driving me crazy.

I glanced over and saw she was now putting a strap-on cock on her beautiful waist.

I continued fucking myself praying that strap-on was soon going to be filling my cunt. I knew I wasn't going to make it much longer, the teasing finally pushing me too far.

"Stop," she again ordered.

I again obeyed.

"Stand up and bend over the desk, my pet. Time to give you the fucking you deserve," she said, standing in thigh highs and a strap-on.

"Yes, Mistress Katherine," I eagerly responded, squealing like a school girl.

In seconds, I was bent over the desk, waiting for the fucking that was just promised.

I felt her hands on my hips, and without a word, she slid the plastic cock inside me.

"Thank youuuuuuuuuu, Mistress," I moaned loudly, as my cunt was finally filled.

"Pretty soon you may come as much as you want, my pet, but not until I say," she said, as she began pounding me.

"God, yesssssss," I moaned, "so fucking good."

"I reward my pets very well," she continued.

"Yes, you dooooooo," I agreed, my orgasm rising at an accelerated rate.

"Beg to come, my pet," she ordered.

"Oh God, Mistress, please, please, let your sluuut, c-c-c-come," I begged, struggling to speak as the pleasure took over my body.

"Don't come yet," she ordered.

"Okayyyyy," I moaned, knowing I wasn't going to be able to hold it back much longer.

"What are you?" she asked, slamming into me so hard the desk moved.

"Your sluuuuuut," I screamed.

"My slave," she continued.

"Yessssss, your s-s-slave, p-p-pussy pleaser, whorrrrrrre," I declared, my orgasm coming in seconds either way.

My breathing quickly erratic, she slapped my ass, "Come, my dirty little slut, come now."

The orgasm erupted as soon as permission was given and I screamed, "Fuuuuuuuuuck, I lovvvvvve youuuuuuuuuuuu."

She kept pounding me, "Don't stop coming, my pet."

"Okkkkkkkkkay," I agreed, as if I had any choice. The orgasm that was cascading through me was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. The pleasure was so intense I honestly wasn't sure if I was coming or peeing, my legs were getting so wet. It was like I had never really had an orgasm as the sensations were so much more intense than anything I had ever experienced before.




"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet



Over the next couple of minutes, as the first orgasm continued to riddle me, I could feel a second following right after it, like waves coming onto the beach.

"Soooooo good," I moaned, as my body burned with pleasure.

"Do you want to come again, my little fuck toy?" she asked.

"God yes, Mistresssssss," I moaned, unable to fathom how two orgasms could come back to back so quick.

"Tell me what you want," she ordered.

"To be you full-time slave," I declared, knowing I would do anything to have this pleasure again.

"Come again, my slave," she ordered, spanking my ass.

"Oh yesssss," I whimpered, the slight burn on my ass turning me on.

"Now, my pet," she demanded.

"Okayyyyyyy," I moaned, "Drill my cunt."

"Now, my slut, or I'll pull out and you don't get to come all week," she threatened.

"Okay, yes, fuck, shit, harder, God, fuck, fuck, fuck," I babbled, as my orgasm rose and then hit me like a hammer.

"Good girl," she purred, as she kept the cock buried in me as my second orgasm coursed through me.

"Thaaaaank you," I declared, as my body felt like a puddle of goo.

"You're welcome, my pet," she replied, pulling out and instantly I felt my legs again get very wet from my own juices.

She pointed the strap-on straighta me and ordered, "Come clean your juices, my slut."

I struggled to stand up, my legs barely able to hold me up, and turned around, fell hard on my knees, and took the plastic cock in my mouth.

To my surprise, I definitely tasted sweet myself.

After a brief minute, she pulled the cock out of my mouth and said, "You definitely passed your first test."

"I hope there will be many more," I responded, looking up at her with admiration.

"Oh, these tests will never end," she promised.

"Great," I smiled, my head already imaging the many different things she would make me do.

"You see how not allowing you to come brought you more intense orgasms," she said.

"Yes, I can barely move," I answered.

She laughed, as she grabbed her skirt, "Well, you better, I have a meeting in fifteen minutes in this office."

"Oh," I nodded. I crawled to my clothing, my legs feeling too weak to walk, and awkwardly got dressed while on the floor. As I awkwardly got dressed, I said, "I don't know what you did to me, Mistress Katherine, but I think you broke my body."

She laughed out loud, "And this was just an appetizer, wait until we have a weekend retreat."

"I'm not sure my body will be able to handle it," I countered.

"Practice makes perfect," she quipped, seemingly always full of clichés.

"Well. I'm willing to practice night and day," I responded.

"I know you are, my pet," she nodded, sliding back into her heels.

Weakly, I stood up, walked to the door, my heels in my hands, and said, "Thank you so much, Mistress Katherine, for seeing through my outer shell."

"You're welcome," she nodded, before adding, "You should probably put on your heels, we don't want the rest of the staff to know you're a submissive, pussy pleasing, pet, do we?"

"No, likely not," I laughed, "At least not until the Christmas party."

She laughed, "You and I are going to get along very, very well, my pet."

"Woof!" I replied, knowing life as I knew it had officially come to an end and I wouldn't have it any other way.

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This alternate ending begins with Lily on the chair in front of the desk and Mrs. Parks, Mistress Katherine, sitting on the desk in front of her.

"And what are you willing to do to make this final submission a reality?" she questioned, smiling seductively at me.

I looked up at her, believing every word I said, "Anything my Mistress wants."

"'Anything' is a pretty wide range of possibilities," she pointed out.

"My body is yours, Mistress," I declared, my mouth watering in anticipation of the long building that was finally about to arrive. After days of waking up just before submitting, my fantasy was about to become reality.

"Good answer," she nodded, standing up.

Knowing the finale was so close I could taste it, I wondered indeed what she would taste like.

She looked down at me and asked, "Last chance to back out, my pet."

"Not in a million years," I replied, watching her hands go to the hem of her skirt.

"Another good answer, my pet," she purred, before adding, "Because I have another surprise for you."

I watched as she slowly slithered her skirt down her long lovely legs. I stared at her crotch until her pink panties were finally in view.

And then....

I....

Gasped....

There was a large bulge in her panties.

Staring at what was obviously a very large cock, I was utterly speechless.

She asked, "Still willing to do anything?"

My mind was spinning with the revelation that literally was right before my eyes.

I wanted to say something, yet I was paralyzed by shock...indecision...confusion...lust.

"Go ahead, my pet," she ordered, her hands gently going through my hair. "Pull down my panties and release my cock which has been dying to meet those beautiful lips since the day I met you."

Finally I spoke, stating the obvious, even though I didn't make a move to her very erect cock, "You have a cock."

"Yes, my pet," she explained, "I have always had a cock. I'm a shemale, or a transsexual or a chick with a dick as those crude online porn sites say."

I looked up into her eyes, went to speak, but again found myself speechless.

"The rest of me, my pet, is all woman," she continued.

Still speechless, I watched her unbutton her blouse and take it off, unclasp her bra and toss it aside, before she said, cupping her breasts, "These, my pet, are completely real."

I stared at her firm large tits, which only enhanced my confusion.

"Go ahead, my eager pet, cup them," she offered.

Tentatively, I reached up and cupped her large firm breasts. They felt real.

"Go ahead, suck on them," she ordered,

I again wordlessly obeyed, leaning forward on the chair and taking her left nipple in my mouth.

"Good pet," she moaned, "suck on your Mistress's nipple."

Briefly forgetting she had a cock, I lavishly pleasured her breasts. Sucking on both nipples, biting them playfully and splattering her entire tits with kisses.

"That's it, my pet," she moaned. "Nothing has changed, the only difference is you will be sucking cock instead of eating pussy. And I imagine you have sucked a fair amount of cock."

When I didn't answer right away, she firmly demanded, "Answer me, my slut."

"Yes, yes, I've sucked cock," I nodded.

"A lot of cock?" she questioned.

"More than a few," I answered. Sucking cock was pretty much first date expectations so I had sucked quite a few, swallowed most and taken a reasonable number of facials.

"You swallow?" she questioned.

"Of course," I nodded, beginning to get used to the idea that she had a cock, not a cunt. I mean, it was her personality that drew me in, not what was under the skirt....and I did love cock.

"Now, do as you're told, my pet, and pull down my panties. I have someone who is very excited to see you."

My hands trembling again, this time with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, I grabbed her pink panties and slowly tugged them down her legs.

I gasped again, this time at how big she was, easily the biggest cock I had seen in real life...porn excluded. It was easily nine inches long and utterly beautiful with a slight curve that I hoped would be able to hit my g-spot.

"I know, it's pretty much the Picasso of dicks, isn't it?" she asked, moving her hand and beginning to stroke it.

"It's fucking huge," I nodded unable to take my eyes off the massive snake.

"And it comes buckets," she added, moving forward slightly and tapping my lips with it.

I instantly opened my mouth, already trained like Pavlov's dog, to open up when a cock was in my face, especially a delicious majestic cock like Mrs. Parks.

"Beg to suck it, my pet," she ordered, tracing my lips with her cock...teasing me.

I no longer cared what sex she was, I wanted that cock in my mouth. I begged, "Please, Mistress, let your pet slut suck that big cock of yours."

"If you take my cock in your mouth, I will expect to be able to fill any of your three holes whenever I wish," she explained.

Although the thought of being sodomized by that monster was petrifying, I answered like I had all day when I thought she had a cunt, "Yes, Mistress, all three of my fuckholes are yours."

"And you will suck my cock under my desk while I am with clients," she continued adding to her expectations of me.

"If I would have known, I would have done that today, Mistress," I replied, and, of course, I would have.

"Go ahead, my pet, you deserve your bone," she quipped, which should have been hilarious, but somehow seemed the natural term at the moment.

I leaned forward and took her cock in my mouth.

"Good girl," she moaned.

Having given a lot of oral sex, I decided to show her my whole spectrum of cocksucking ability. I swirled my tongue around her cockhead to tease her first; I then slithered my tongue down her iron shaft and to her balls; I sucked each ball into my mouth, giving each equal attention, before slithering back up to her mushroom top.

She groaned, "You know your way around a dick, don't you, my pet?"

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, before taking it back in my mouth.

I resumed my lengthy focus, by beginning to slowly bob back and forth, my goal to eventually take all nine inches in my mouth, something I had never done before having never sucked such a big dick. But I was, of course, up for the challenge.

"That's it, my dick smoker, worship my cock, it's going to be in your mouth daily now," she promised, which I prayed was true.

I moaned on her cock in response, wanting her to know that I was excited by the promise.

"Oh yes, my pet," she moaned, "you will be my personal fuck toy from now on. Although don't you worry, we will also get you trained in cunt munching. Many of our clients love a young eager pussy pleaser."

I again moaned, the idea of being a full service fuck toy for whoever she wanted was incredibly exciting and stimulating.

I continued bobbing, each forward movement taking a little more of her amazing dick in my mouth.

"You want it all, don't you?" she asked, watching me bob hungrily like the eager slut I was.

"Mmmmmmmmm," I moaned in response, getting almost seven inches in my mouth.

"Tell me, slut, tell me how much you love my cock," she ordered.

I reluctantly took her cock out of my mouth, looked up at her and declared, "I love your big dick, Mistress and I want to suck it until you come down my throat or on my face."

"What about your tits?" she asked.

"Come wherever you want, Mistress," I offered, again giving myself to her completely, "my body is yours to use as you wish."

Her hands went through my hair and she groaned, "I'm getting close, my pet."

Hearing the words, I began bobbing faster, wanting to get her off and swallow her cum.

After a couple of more minutes, she pulled out and ordered, "On your knees, my pet."

I quickly obeyed, assuming she planned to spray my face with her cum. Although I loved the sluttiness of the act, loved the moment the warm cum hit my face, I hated trying to clean myself of the sticky goo.

Used to what happened next, I opened my mouth as she stroked her cock, aimed directly at me.

"You've done this many times before, my pet," she mused, looking down at me on my knees with my mouth open.

I smiled, continuing to look up at her, "Never for someone like you, though."

"You want it down your throat, on your pretty face or on those perky tits, my pet?" she asked, stroking her hard cock furiously.

"Down my throat," I answered, wanting to taste her cum.

"As you wish," she nodded, sliding her cock back in my mouth and beginning to fuck my face.

I concentrated on not gagging, as she roughly fucked my face. After a few thrusts, she grabbed my head and seconds later I felt the warm cum sliding down my throat.

I eagerly swallowed it, loving the salty taste...I had always liked the taste (unlike most of my friends who did it reluctantly or refused entirely).

"Fuck, what a great mouth," she grunted, as she deposited a full load in me.

After another minute, as she slowed down to a relaxed pumping, she continued, "I saved that load since Monday for you, my pet."

When she pulled out, I replied, "Thank you, so much," leaning forward and licking her cock to retrieve a last remnant of cum that was beginning to drip.

"Ready to get fucked?" she asked.

"Really?" I asked. I had fucked many men the age of Mistress and none could get it up immediately, some not even again that night.

"Oh, I'll only need a few minutes," she replied. "Lie down and get that cunt of yours ready for me."

I obeyed quickly, my cunt burning with desire and desperate for attention.

"Rub yourself for me, my slut," she ordered, leaning on her desk.

"Okayyyyy," I agreed, instantly moving my hand underneath my panties.

"Think you can take all nine inches in that little box of yours?" she asked, watching me.

"I'll die tryiiiiiiing," I responded, as I imagined that big prick filling my cunt. I loved big cocks in me, the few I had, but even I wasn't confident I could take all nine inches of that thick monster inside me. That said, I was definitely up for the challenge.

"I'll take it slow, my slut," she promised, before adding, "until you're begging to take it all in that hot box of yours, that is."

"I can't wait," I moaned, slowly rubbing myself, knowing I didn't want to come until my cunt was filled with that cock.

For a few minutes, I slowly pleasured myself while she sent a few texts, made a phone call, her big cock dangling between her legs...completely ignoring that I was on the floor, half naked, touching my cunt and yearning for her dick.

Finally, wordlessly, while chatting to her mother, yes her mother, she snapped her fingers at me and pointed to my crotch. I moved my hands away from my burning inferno and instead framed my hip area for her. I watched as she slowly moved above me, her cock dangling above my mouth like a carrot just out of reach.

My mouth instantly opened even though I wasn't in reach of the appetizing cock, only 1/3 erect, above me.

"Is that what you want?" she asked, to her mother, even though it could have been to me.

I nodded in case the question was for me.

"No, no," she continued, "is that really what you want?"

I was still confused, as I wasn't sure if her words were for her mother or me, but I kept my mouth open wide.

Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees, and dangled her cock an inch above me.

Although awkward as hell, I leaned up, while remaining on my back, and took the mushroom head of her cock back in my mouth.

"I got to go, Mom, I have a very important training session with a new employee," she said. After a pause, she said, as she began pumping her cock in my mouth at the strangest of angles, "Oh trust me, I won't."

After she hung up, she smiled, "My mother wants me to make sure I don't work you too hard."

"Oh, I hope you're going to work me fucking hard," I teased, looking up.

"Take off your bra, my pet," she ordered.

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, trying to look sexy and seductive as I unclasped my bra and tossed it aside, never once taking my eyes off her.

"Those are great titties, my pet," she purred.

"Thank you, Mistress," I nodded, before adding, "I've always been self-conscious about how small they are."

"They're perfect, my pet," she complimented, "now squeeze those tits together for me."

I squeezed my small, but perky, tits for her, which not surprisingly made them look bigger than they really were.

She walked to her desk and ordered, "Crawl to me, my pet."

I immediately rolled over onto my knees and crawled to her. Reaching her, she ordered,

"Ever tit fucked a cock?" she asked.

"I've tried when drunk," I admitted, "but it didn't go well."

"Well, let's see if the second time is the charm," she smiled. "Tit fuck me, my little slut."

Although I wasn't sure my breasts were big enough to really tit fuck that big dick, I obeyed, leaning forward, allowing her cock to go between my breasts and began to awkwardly move up and down slowly.

"Lube would probably help," she concluded. "Give me a second, my pet."

I moved back, she stood up, reached into her drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. She sat back down, poured some lube between my tits and ordered, "Let's try this again."

I again leaned forward, took her cock between my tits and began moving up and down. It was still awkward, but with the lubricant it was easier. I'm not sure I was really giving her much pleasure, but I enjoyed it anyways.

After a couple of minutes, she smiled, "Maybe we should just do this the old fashioned way. Straddle my cock, my eager little fuck slut."

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, indeed eager. I stood up, straddled her legs and lowered myself on her long, thick, nine inch shaft. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh," I moaned, as her cock slowly filled me.

"That's it, my slut," she purred, "I expect you to take it all until you are sitting on my lap."

"Okkkkkkkkkkay," I whimpered, as the cock filled me unlike I had ever been before.

"Fuck, your cunt is incredibly tight," she moaned.

"Because my cunt has never had anything soooooooo big," I admitted.

"Almost all in, my pet," she declared.

"Soooooo full," I moaned, continuing to lower myself on the massive dick.

Finally, I was sitting on her lap.

"Good girl," she moaned, kissing the back of my neck. "You took it all like a good slut."

"Can I ride you, Mistress?" I asked, wanting to fuck myself.

"Bounce away," she replied, continuing to kiss my neck.

I leaned forward, using the desk for balance, and began riding this glorious dick. I began slowly moving up and down, wanting to really enjoy this first time with her.

"That's it," she moaned, after a few slow motions. "Ride my cock, my pet."

"All dayyyyyy," I moaned, beginning to move faster, wanting to really take all her cock. Each hard bounce on her cock made it reach new depths inside me. I was in utter euphoria.

With each deep downwards stroke, my orgasm began to build at an accelerated pace. "Oh fuck, I love your cock," I declared.

"I knew you would," she responded, before she ordered, "On the floor, my little cum slut."

"Yes, Mistress," I eagerly obeyed, moving back to the floor and spreading my legs wide, eager to have her cock buried back inside me.

She laughed as she looked at me with my legs high up in the air, "Fuck, you're an even bigger slut than I could have imagined."

I laughed back, "Even more so than I imagined, too."

"Beg, slut," she demanded, as she moved between my legs.

"You, Goddess, Mistress, slam that big dick of yours in your slut's cunt," I begged. "I need it sooooo bad, I need to come from that enormous pecker of yours."

"Pecker," she laughed, "that's a new one."

"Cock, dick, boomstick, snake, dragon, fuck stick, rod, thunder stick, Johnson, hose, sausage, cum gun," I listed, the girls and I one day coming up with over a hundred such names at a sleepover back in high school.

"You really are full of surprises," she chuckled, as she filled my cunt.

"Yessssss, drill my cunt with your hammer gun," I screamed, instantly covering my mouth suddenly remembering it was the middle of the afternoon and I was technically at work. Then I realized something else...I was getting paid at that very moment.




"Stocking Tales": Boss's Pet



"Cup those titties, my slut," she ordered, as she began fucking me.

"Yes, Mistress," I immediately obeyed, already feeling my orgasm building.

"I want you to come on the count of ten, my pet," she said, after a few deep hard thrusts. She then added, "not before and not after, exactly at ten."

"Okayyyy," I agreed, even though at the rate my orgasm was rising, I wasn't sure I could control it for even a few more seconds.

"One," she began.

"Two," she continued, counting up.

Each number of the countdown felt like an eternity as her cock slammed into me with such deep penetration and force.

"Three," she groaned.

"Oh God, Mistress, I've never been fucked so well," I moaned, hoping talking would somehow slow down my orgasm.

"I knew you were the one, my slut, the moment you walked into the room," she revealed to me, before adding, "four and five."

"Whaaaaaaat?" I asked, confused by her declaration.

"Your innocent, ridiculously conservative attire, yet mixed with your confident demeanor and I knew you were the perfect submissive," she explained, even as she both continued fucking me and kept counting towards the moment of euphoria. "Six."

"You could really see that?" I asked.

"In a heartbeat," she replied. "Seven."

"So close," I moaned, my head spinning with the revelation, trying to fathom how I gave such an impression. Before I met her I didn't remotely see myself in such a light.

"Not yet, my fuck slut," she cautioned, as she began fucking me so hard I wasn't sure I could last another second. "Eight."

"Okaaaaay," I whimpered, squeezing my breasts hard enough to leave bruises on myself as I tried to resist the orgasm that was definitely inevitable.

"Nine," she counted, so close to the crescendo of eruption.

"Yes, oh God, please Mistressssss," I begged in delirium.

"Nine and a quarter," she teased.

"Mistressssss, nooo," I whined, clenching my teeth together in a lame attempt not to come.

"Nine and a half," she again teased with a wicked smile, keeping me on the cusp of heaven and yet unable to touch it.

"Oh, can't hold baaaaaack," I whimpered.

"Ten!" she announced.

"Oh fuuuuuuuuuck," I screamed, through clenched teeth to avoid alerting the entire building to the most intense orgasm of my entire life.

"That's it, my slut," she purred, as she continued the rough fucking as my orgasm riddled me, usurping any energy I had left in me. "Come like a racehorse."

"Can't stop comiiiiiiiing," I weakly retorted.

For a couple minutes of pleasure indescribable in any remote sort of way, my mind went blank and I transcended to utopia, where pleasure was eternal and never ending, even as she continued fucking my trembling cunt.

Suddenly she pulled out and ordered, her own sense of urgency implying she was about to come herself, "Knees, my pet."

Although slightly dazed and confused, I quickly sat up, feeling wobbly and utterly weak as I stared at her pulsating cock.

She furiously pumped her cock and this time said, "Time for you to get a nice load on those pretty lips."

I opened my mouth, stared at her juicy cock and waited for her to coat my face with her cum.

Wanting to talk dirty, to get her off with my words, I demanded, "Coat my face with your cum, Mistress; cover your slut with your seed; mark your property with your white goo."

"Oh, fuck, you really are the one," she grunted, coming for the second time this afternoon.

Her cock aimed directly at my face and I felt her warm cum spray me with the force of a firehose.

I moaned, "That's it, Mistress, cum all over your fuck slut."

Calling myself names only enhanced my desire to please for some unfathomable reason.

Four more streams, each less than the one before, hit my chest before I leaned forward and took her cock back in my mouth.

"Retrieve every last drop, Lily," she moaned, saying my name for the first time since I can't even begin to remember when.

I hungrily bobbed on her cock, doing exactly that.

Finally, she pulled out and smiled, "You even look cute with cum all over your face."

"Next time I hope it's in my cunt," I said, hoping that next time may still be this afternoon.

"Oh don't you worry my little cum bucket, I still have two holes to deposit into," she answered.

I wasn't sure if she meant today or someday, but I understood that I was eventually, likely very soon, going to be taking her cock in my ass.

"Rub my cum all over those tits of yours, my sweet Lily."

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, moving to my tits and rubbing the sticky seed all over my chest.

She said, watching me, as she collapsed into her chair, "You definitely passed your first test."

"Did I get a hundred percent?" I coyly asked, still on my knees in front of her.

"Well there is always room for improvement," she smiled back, moving her foot to my breasts.

"I'll work harder, Mistress," I promised, as I took her foot and moved it to my lips.

"I know you will," she nodded, before adding, "Get dressed, my pet. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes in this office."

"Can't I be under your desk, giving you a very lengthy blow job?" I asked, hungry for more.

"Oh, you really are an eager beaver," she smiled, standing up. "You will indeed be under my desk many times, my pet, but now I want you to return to work. We don't want your fellow employees to talk."

"Yes, Mistress," I nodded, feeling an undeniable sense of disappointment that this first training was over.

"Don't worry, my little slut, today was just an appetizer, wait until we have a weekend retreat," she smiled, as she got dressed.

"I can't wait," I admitted, already imagining all the naughty things I hoped she planned to do to me.

"I know you can't," she nodded, sliding back into her heels.

Finally dressed, my body weak, unsure how I was possibly going to work after this, I stood up, walked to the door, my heels in my hands, and said, "Thank you so much, Mistress Katherine, for seeing through my outer shell."

"You're welcome," she nodded, before adding, "You should probably put on your heels, we don't want the rest of the staff to know you're a submissive, cock pleasing, pet, do we?"

"No, likely not," I laughed, "At least not until you decide to have me pleasure every member here as a Christmas bonus."

She laughed, "You and I are going to get along very, very well, my kitty."

"Meow!" I replied, knowing life as I knew it had officially come to an end and I wouldn't have it any other way.

As I slipped on my heels and walked out the door, a thought suddenly popped into my head, 'what about her husband?'

THE END ... AGAIN

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EPILOGUE...just in case you thought this was finally over:

Three month later, my private training with Mistress Katherine complete, including very thorough ass training, she told me she had a few surprises for me.

The first was that I was moving in with her so I could be her full-time pet.

The second was that we were going to be going on a week-long trip to some secluded island where apparently Mistresses and pets played.

The third was that it was time for me to begin my next level of training.

I was immediately curious what the next level could possibly entail after a full month of anal training.

It was after hours when she ordered me to get undressed and kneel in the middle of her office.

I, of course, obeyed.

She came behind me and put a blindfold on me.

A chill went up my spine. She had used handcuffs on me already on a few occasions, but this was a new development.

"Do you trust me, my pet?" she asked.

"With my life," I answered, meaning it completely.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"And now begins part two of your training," she said, as I heard her heels head towards the door.

"Yes, Mistress," I whispered, wondering what my beautiful Mistress had in store for me next.

"Thanks for coming," Mistress Katherine greeted.

The voices, yes voices, which responded sent a chill up my spine....

THE END

Please, let me know if you liked having two endings and, if so, which one...

JASMINE MARCH 2015 



"Stocking Tales": Face Full of Cum



Summary: A teacher and an ex-student fall for each other.

Note 1: A special thanks to my beautiful girl next door model who is anything but the girl next door internet sensation both in photo and video Kelly Anderson (aka Housewife Kelly).

Note 2: Photos from the following sets were used to create this fantasy tale: "Office Slut", "Cock Break", "Working Wife", "Real Estate Agent Fucks for a Sale", "Working Wife", and "Sex Tax Lady" and were used with permission of HOUSEWIFE KELLY.

Note 3: Thanks to MAB7991, Robert and goamz86 for editing this story.

Note 4: This is a 2015 Valentine's Day Contest story so please vote!!!

"Stocking Tales": A Face Full of Cum

Kelly looked in the mirror as she finished getting ready for work. Although today's young teachers dressed casually, some even considering Lulu Lemon yoga pants as acceptable professional fashion, Kelly believed in the more traditional skirt, blouse, pantyhose or stockings, and heels. She strongly believed that to gain the respect of her very opinionated senior students, she had to earn it. A mixture of a strong personality, professional attire, and compassion for all, built that sense of respect or trust. She rarely had discipline problems and her students genuinely, for the most part, enjoyed being in her class, even if the students didn't always like the subject itself.

Kelly also wasn't naive...she knew that her big firm 36C breasts and her well-toned legs drew a lot of attention from the boys in her class, as well as some of the girls. She liked the attention. She also knew that many of the boys talked about fucking her in the locker room; Coach Walter had told her so many times. "You are killing my team, Ms. Anderson," he joked, "all they talk about is did you see what Ms. Anderson was wearing today or worse."

Kelly quipped playfully to the handsome but married football coach, "And what would the worse be?"

"It is not for the ears of a lady," the handsome coached smiled.

The sexy teacher smiled, "If you knew the real me you wouldn't call me a lady."

"Let's just say you are the star of many of the boys' wet fantasies," the coach revealed.

Kelly knew some of the boys noticed her legs, or her breasts, but she never had put much thought into them jerking because of her. It should have repulsed her, or at the very least had her dress less sexy, but instead it got her off. She started dressing more provocatively at school, not slutty by any means, but she would go without underwear, or wear thigh high stockings instead of pantyhose and had even recently purchased a pair of crotchless pantyhose. Dressing naughty underneath her professional attire was her secret rebellion against the prototype teacher stereotype.

Putting on her glasses, Kelly looked at herself one more time, her stocking tops just barely hidden by her skirt, and headed to work feeling sexy and beautiful, slowly forgetting the recent harsh break-up with her boyfriend of over two years.

Thinking about the break-up still made Kelly sad. She had thought she was going to marry Kevin. He was handsome, had a good job, was a great provider, and had a similar ferocious sexual appetite, at least at first. But as he climbed the corporate ladder at work, he was gone more and more and eventually his priorities shifted from Kelly first to his job first. Kelly didn't notice it at first, but as the shift occurred, the sex happened less, with much less creativity and passion than their first intense year. That said, Kelly was still surprised when he said it was over. He didn't give her a good reason, just the standard, 'It's not you, it's me' line which is just the chicken-shit way of taking no responsibility for the relationship.

Kelly hadn't had sex with a man in over a month, and although her large box of toys did the job in theory, it wasn't the same as the intimacy and touch of a man. The heat of a kiss, the warmth of a body on her and the thrill of a cock inside her was not possible to recreate with any toy and she missed it immensely. She had a ferocious sexual appetite and a month felt like an eternity to her.

Thus, the attention from Kelly's younger students was validation of her sexuality as she went through her depressing dry spell. At thirty, the biological clock was just starting to tick, a time bomb reminder that her window for starting a family was slowly getting smaller.

She shook her head to erase the sad memory when she arrived at work as if her head was an etch-a-sketch. Putting on her teacher persona, she took a deep breath and headed into school.

.....

Some woman eat after bad a break-up, others dive into their career, others get revenge, Kelly decided to renovate her basement, slowly attempting to eradicate any evidence of her past.

Kelly called a local contractor and was to meet with him right after school. A chaotic day at school had her five minutes late for meeting him. She pulled into her driveway and saw a truck waiting for her.

The pretty teacher quickly got out of the car and walked over to the guy leaning against the side of the truck. She stopped a few feet away. "No way, Chris Gunnerson, is that you?"

A handsome young man looked up with this trademark smile. "Yes it is, Ms. Anderson, long time, no see."

"Indeed," Kelly said, walking over and shaking hands with a student she had taught back in her first year of teaching seven years ago. "Well, what a pleasant surprise!"

Chris agreed. When he had gotten the call from her, a flood of memories had come flashing back to him as he reminisced about the daily stroke sessions he had back in his senior year. Besides being funny, beautiful and intelligent, she also wore pantyhose every day which was his personal fetish. The amount of times she dangled her heel while sitting on top of her desk had him constantly distracted, his cock constantly hard and his mind constantly creating naughty fantasies.

Chris flashed back to the most constant fantasy from his past, an after school rendezvous:

 "Ms. Hamilton, I just do not understand how the motivation of Hamlet is believable." I said, just finding lame excuses to spend alone time with her, clinging to the long shot that she would be into me.

"What exactly do you not understand, Mr. Gunnerson?" she asked, her sweet, girl next door smile making me weak at the knees. I also loved how she always called me Mr., as if we were on the same standing.

"Well, he seems unrealistically weak," I explained, which I did believe.

"How so?" she asked, playing with her hair the same way girls my age did to hint they were interested in me.

"W-w-well," I stammered, "If my father was killed I would avenge his death instantly, not mope around like a pus..." I stopped catching myself.

"A what?" she teased, her smile widening with a hint of playfulness.

"A pussy," I finished.

"And a pussy would be?" she asked, uncrossing her legs in what felt like slow motion, her skirt riding way up.

I stared like the eighteen year old horny pervert I was, completely mesmerized by her black nylon legs. I gasped as I saw the top of her stockings and realized she was not wearing pantyhose, but thigh high stockings.

"What is wrong, Mr. Gunnerson?" she asked, her smile dripping with knowledge of what she was doing to me.

I babbled, "N-n-nothing, I-um-just."

"So if I am correct, you are arguing that Hamlet can't just go ahead and take control of his fate. Is that true, Mr. Gunnerson?" she asked, leaning back, revealing she was wearing a sexy bra.

"Y-y-yes, exactly, he doesn't go for the kill," I stammered, trying to look intelligent as I blathered on.

"Could you go for the kill, if the opportunity arose?" my pretty teacher asked, now revealing way more of her body than was socially acceptable for a teacher.

"I-I-I..." I stuttered, completely overwhelmed by my teacher's sexual innuendo.

"Could you take control of your fate?" she continued, as she leaned forward allowing her fluffy white breasts to almost pop out at me like a 3D movie.

"Y-y-yes," I replied, although I suddenly realized how Hamlet could be so indecisive. The apple was right there, ripe to bite, I could literally taste the juiciness, yet I couldn't open my mouth.

"How long have you been considering, yet not following through, Mr. Gunnerson?" my stocking-clad fantasy teacher asked. "Even though Hamlet took a long time planning, he eventually executed it, didn't he?"

Was she telling me I should take a big bite out of the apple? Was she challenging me to take control of this moment of intimacy? Was she willing to cross the invisible line of teacher and student?

Answering her question, trying to confirm without a doubt that we were talking about the same thing, like Hamlet did before following through with his full throttle revenge, I replied, "Since the first day of class and every day since."

Her smile dripping with sweet sexiness, her tone teasing with flirtatious fun, she challenged, "That is a long time to let things simmer below the surface. You know that is what Hamlet did and that didn't go so well for him did it?"

"No," I said, frozen in indecisiveness.

"Imagine if Hamlet would have been more aggressive, maybe he could have got everything he wanted, including the girl," Ms. Anderson continued, making it clear she was willing to cross the invisible line, as she leaned back in her chair, putting her feet on her desk and allowing her breasts to break free from their blouse prison.

I tried to make a joke. "Well, he did get Ophelia."

"He did indeed, and could have had her over and over and over again if he would have been more aggressive in taking what he wanted."

Building a bit of confidence I countered, "Ophelia always did what she was told, did she not?"

"Yes, she was a very good girl, yet she wanted to be bad," Ms. Anderson retorted, her tone dripping with implication as she stood up and sauntered over to me, her breasts like two headlights coming right at me.

Suddenly confident I wouldn't be rebuked, I replied with a question, "Is Ms. Anderson a lot like Ophelia?"

"Well I am a good girl," she smiled, her hand going to my fully erect cock. "But, I also can be a very, very bad girl."

Going for broke, I put my hand on her shoulders and gently lowered her onto her black stocking-clad knees. As hoped, she didn't resist but looked at me playfully from her submissive position. "And what does Hamlet want Ophelia to do?"

"Pull out my cock, Ms. Anderson," I ordered.

"I love a man who knows what he wants," she smiled, fishing out my cock from my jeans. My fully erect cock ready for action, my English teacher purred, "Hmmmm, you have a very impressive sword, Mr. Gunnerson."

"You know what to do with such an impressive weapon, don't you?" I questioned, my confidence growing.

"That I do," she purred, opening her mouth and extending her tongue around my cockhead.

Watching my fantasy become reality, I let out a moan as her tongue swirled around, a tempting tease.

"Can you deep throat my sword?" I asked, desperate to see my beautiful teacher bobbing back and forth on my fully loaded weapon.



"Is that a demand?" she smiled, sucking on my mushroom top and slowly moving back, a loud plop occurring as her suction-cup lips released my cock.

"Yes, Ms. Anderson," I said.

"Tell me, sexy, what do you want your teacher to do?" she asked, slowly flicking her tongue on my cock.

"Be a bad girl, Ms. Anderson and suck my cock like a hungry little slut" I ordered, pushing the boundary with some name-calling.

She looked up at me and asked, "You want your teacher to be your slut?"

"No," I said, tapping my cock on her lips, "You will be my cocksucking teacher, won't you my teacher slut?"

She moaned as she agreed by taking all of my cock in her mouth. After the early tease, this time she bobbed on my cock with reckless hunger. I watched in glorified awe at the reality I was living, having my beautiful teacher becoming my personal cocksucker.

Not surprisingly, I didn't last long as I moaned, "I'm about to come."

She pulled my cock out of her mouth and pumped furiously and opened her mouth wide. "Does Hamlet want to come on Ophelia?"

"God, yes," I grunted, shooting rope after rope of cum on my kneeling teacher.

"Oh yes, baby," she moaned, as I coated her beautiful face.

Once spent, she sat up and looked up at me, our eyes meeting. I couldn't believe I had just shot my load all over my fantasy teacher. Smiling, taking her cum covered glasses off, she naughtily scooped my cum from her glasses and face and slowly put it to her mouth. "Hmmmm," she moaned as if my cum brought her to orgasm. .....

"I thought it might be you when we talked on the phone, but I wasn't sure," Chris replied, pushing his recurring high school fantasy aside, even though she looked as radiant and sexy as she did all those years ago.

"Well it is me," Kelly shrugged, as she noticed just how well her ex-student had developed over the years. "Come inside and take a look at what we discussed yesterday on the phone."

Chris followed behind, watching his ex-teacher's ass sway so perfectly from side to side, being pulled in as if looking at a hypnotist's watch.

Once downstairs, Kelly explained what she wanted done. Chris took notes and gave a quick appraisal of the cost. "Ms. Anderson," Chris began.

"Please call me Kelly," the beautiful teacher replied.

"Kelly," Chris continued, "Because you were such an awesome teacher and an inspiration, I will give you my best possible rate."

Kelly smiled, wondering how she could be an inspiration based on her teaching English and him ending up in the trades. "No, no, you don't have to do that."

"I insist," Chris replied, writing down a number and handing it to her.

Kelly looked at the paper and said, "That's it? How are you going to make any money? That is a third of the price our construction teacher suggested it would be."

"Is old Mr. Hammerton still there?" Chris asked, always finding it hilariously ironic that the construction teacher was named Hammerton.

"Yep, it's his last year," Kelly replied.

"Well, he would be correct, but I insist on doing this for you," Chris said.

"But you will be doing it practically for free," Kelly countered.

"No, no, I will still be okay, but at that price I will have to do it in the evenings," Chris explained.

"Well, if you're sure," Kelly said.

"I am."

"Then you're hired," Kelly announced, offering her hand. "When can you start?"

"Tomorrow if you want," Chris said, eager to see her again and again. By doing it at night it would take longer and she would more likely be home then during the day when she would obviously be at work.

"Sounds great," Kelly said.

Chris would have liked to stay, but he had another job to estimate. "I would love to catch up, but I have one more estimate for the boss. I will be here around six."

"Sure," Kelly agreed, "but don't eat first. I will make you supper before you start working."

"You don't have to," Chris said, although he loved the idea.

"I insist," the beautiful teacher replied. "It is the least I can do. Plus, we need to catch up."

Plans made, Kelly hugged Chris goodbye and Chris couldn't help but notice the firm breasts against his chest; likewise, Kelly couldn't help notice the stiff erection that brushed her leg. Both left with just a planted seed of what could be....

.....

That night, Kelly lay in bed horny from a lack of sex and the realization of just how hot Chris had become. He was a handsome kid when she taught him, but he had grown into a startlingly rugged man with muscles everywhere. Her hand went to her needy cunt as she fantasized not about Chris, as he was her ex-student and thus off limits, but back to Craig, a college boyfriend, who first saw through her strong façade and pulled out her submissive side.

Although Kelly was a control freak and a no nonsense teacher with high expectations, she also had another side. The stress of teaching often caused her great tension, and once she got home she wanted to let go. In the bedroom, she was the submissive and her boyfriend the dominant. Although she loved getting fucked, there was nothing better than having a cock in her mouth. She loved the silent power she had when she was on her knees pleasing a man, while, ironically, still subservient to him. Although Craig fucked her sometimes, maybe once a week, (he loved to withhold orgasms from her; even though she was expected to suck his cock daily), he also loved to cum all over her pretty face before allowing her the privilege of tasting his cum.

As she rubbed herself, she recalled the first time he took control:

"Studying again?" Craig sighed, as he grabbed himself a drink.

"I need to get a ninety on this test," I sighed, always annoyed how he didn't understand that I was a perfectionist when it came to my grades.

"Well, dressed like that, it's obvious you're wanting some cock," he said, surprising me.

"Excuse me?" I asked, surprised by his aggressive tone. We had been dating a couple of months, and he had never said anything like that before, although he was a rather blunt person.

"You dress like a slut, I'm going to treat you like a slut," he said.

"I wore the thigh highs for you," I pointed out, knowing he loved the sexy lingerie.

"Dressing to please, like a good slut," he nodded before ordering me, "Stand up!"

Part of me wanted to slap him in the face, yet another part of me was turned on by his dominant behaviour...so I obeyed.

He smiled, "I thought so."

"You thought so, what?" I asked, his smug tone pissing me off, even as my pussy began to dampen.

"You're submissive," he accused.

"I'm not," I protested.

"Lift up that skirt and show me that ass of yours," he ordered.

"Really?" I asked.

"Now!" he firmly demanded.

I again obeyed.

"Now look at me," he instructed.

I did, feeling sheepish, humiliated and horny as hell.

"What are you?" he asked.

"Your girlfriend," I answered.

"My slut," he corrected.

"Please," I began, but he cut me off.

"Thigh highs, no panties, red fuck me heels and a mini skirt," he listed, "you're obviously dressed to please."

"Yes, for you, baby," I admitted.

"Knees," he ordered.

"Here?" I asked, all our fucking so far being in my bedroom, except for a blow job once in his car while he drove.




"Stocking Tales": Face Full of Cum



"No, outside," he sarcastically quipped.

I dropped to my knees.

"Show me those tits," he continued.

"These tits?" I smiled, as I unbuttoned my blouse, getting pulled into his sexy game.

"Good, slut," he nodded, "now tell me what you want, slut."

I moaned, undeniably turned on, "Hmmmm, baby, I want that big cock of yours."

"Now look up like the cock hungry slut you are and give me your best 'I'm a cock hungry slut who wants to be face fucked' expression," he ordered, his words so nasty and yet so true.

"You love sucking my cock, don't you?" he said, squeezing his cock through his jeans.

"Yes, baby," I purred, my mouth literally watering at the opportunity to have his big, juicy cock in my mouth.

"Beg, slut," he demanded.

I wasn't used to this. Our sex up to now had been borderline dull, but I loved this new side of him. "Oh baby, let me suck your big cock."

"Is that the best you got?" he asked.

Wanting to please him, to impress him, I begged, "Oh baby, let your slutty girlfriend deep throat that cock of yours until you cum all over my face. Or maybe you want to face fuck me so your balls bounce off my chin."

"That's better, now get to work, I got to meet the boys for a basketball game in a few," he ordered.

My inner slut awakened, I quickly unfastened his belt and fished out his semi-hard cock. I took it in my mouth and, unlike most times when I went slow and let it grow in my mouth, I sucked him like a slut. I bobbed back and forth, each forward movement taking more of his six and a half inch cock in my mouth.

He groaned, "That's it, slut, suck it, take it all in those pretty cocksucking lips of yours."

I moaned on his cock in response, desperately wanting to get him off, to indeed be his slut.

It wasn't more than two minutes before he pulled out and ordered, "Open wide."

I quickly tossed my glasses aside, getting cum off them always a pain, and opened my mouth ready to taste his cum. In our brief relationship, I had quickly learned his two fetishes were nylons and facials, although apparently calling me names could now be added to his list.

He furiously pumped his beautiful cock, as I began rubbing myself like the orgasm craving slut I had apparently become.

Soon his cum rocketed out of his missile and onto me. The first shot hit me in the eye, before getting some on my lips, chin, neck and tits.



"Lick those lips and let me see how much you love my cum," he ordered.

I again obeyed, wanting to be his slut.

"This is just the beginning," he promised, as he put his cock away. "And no touching that cunt of yours without permission.

I immediately stopped, even though my pussy was on fire.

"Good, slut," he said, smugly. "Now go back and study, I would hate for you to fail your test."

Reluctantly, shocked he was stopping me from having an orgasm, I stood up and obeyed.

"Yessssssssssss," Kelly screamed, as her orgasm hit her hard.

Recovering from her orgasm, she wished she could have a fuck buddy, someone to help her with her cum withdrawal.

.....

It was a long day for Kelly at school; she had to deal with a student who was high as a kite and refusing to admit it. She got home, poured a glass of wine just as there was a knock at the front door. In the chaos that was her day, including an after school meeting with the parents and the police, she had completely forgotten that she had planned to make dinner for her and Chris. She went to the door to let Chris in.

Chris's cock instantly hardened as she was still dressed in her school attire. He loved how she still tended to match her outfits. In a red blouse and matching heels, a short, but not too short, skirt, and tan nylons she looked amazing. He complimented, "You look very nice, Ms. Anderson."

"It's just Kelly," she smiled, before adding, "and thank you."

Chris followed her into the kitchen where she continued, "I'm so sorry, but I had a crazy day at school and just got home."

"No worries," Chris shrugged, as he tried not to stare at her long nylon-clad legs.

"I'll order something," Kelly said, noticing that Chris was checking out her legs.

"Sure," Chris nodded, "I'll go and bring in my supplies and tools."

"Pizza?" Kelly asked.

"Sure," Chris agreed.

"What kind do you like?" Kelly asked, realizing just how good looking Chris had become.

"Whatever you like," Chris replied, taking one last long gaze at his ex-teacher's perfect legs.

Kelly ordered food and decided to stay in her teacher attire somehow liking the impact it was having on Chris. Although she wasn't considering doing anything with Chris, he was still an ex-student, it felt good to have someone checking her out.

Once the pizza arrived, and they were sitting at the table, they caught up. Kelly felt incredibly comfortable talking with him and surprisingly divulged way more information than necessary about the end of her relationship with Ben.

Chris, meanwhile, listened intently, learning early on that compliments and listening were two of the biggest keys to getting a woman in bed. And although he didn't think the odds were in his favour, the possibility was there. Thankfully, he couldn't see her nylon legs under the table so he wasn't distracted.

Kelly had finished two glasses of wine since she got home, and was feeling slightly tipsy, which also meant slightly horny. The more she talked with Chris, the more she saw him as a man and not a boy and she pondered what he would look like naked.

"Well, I suppose I should get back to work," Chris said, after the forty-five minute meal and visit.

"And I should probably go have a shower and get out of my work clothes," she said, standing up and deciding to show off her legs one more time...getting excited at the thought of teasing him.

Chris, watched her walk to the sink with her plate, his cock instantly rising at just a quick glimpse of Kelly's nylon covered legs.

Chris slyly adjusted himself before standing up, thanking her and heading downstairs wondering if there was any chance of bedding his beautiful ex-teacher.

Kelly, tipsy and horny, went to her washroom, locked the door, undressed and got in the shower. Deciding she needed to get off, her thoughts of Chris beginning to get very inappropriate, she grabbed her shower head and, as she often did in the shower, she used the massage head as a pleasure toy. Closing her eyes, she fantasized this evening going a little differently.

"I'll order something," I said, noticing that Chris was checking out my legs.

"Actually, what I want is already here," Chris said with a confident tone.

"What's that?" I asked, acting confused.

Walking to me, he leaned in and whispered, "You," before kissing me.

I was shocked and yet his kiss sent sparks throughout my entire body, particularly my long neglected pussy. After a brief delay, I began returning the kiss with a lustful passion.

Breaking the kiss, he ordered, "Now show me those tits you have flaunted all these years."

"I didn't flaunt them," I protested.

"Now," he ordered, his tone suddenly firm.

I again protested, this time weaker, my pussy wet by his words, "But you're a student."

"I was a student," he corrected, "and now you're my slut."

"Chris!" I gasped, at being called a slut.

"Stop feigning shock," Chris said, "I know you want my cock and I know you are a hungry slut dying to be treated as such. Now, show me your tits."

Turned on by his strong persona, I unbuttoned my blouse.

"Now pull those titties out," he ordered.

I did, my pussy on fire at obeying him. "Now bend over and show me those titties you want me to suck."

Suddenly wanting to please him, I smiled, bent over cupping my tits and asked, "Is this what you fantasized about all these years?"

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, having the exact impact I hoped to have when I asked the question.

He moved to me, pushed me back and buried his head in my tits. He sucked and nibbled, aggressively mauling my tits. My nipples super sensitive, each rough tug on my nipples sent pleasure throughout my body and made my panties damp.

"Oh yes, suck on my tits," I moaned, as I kicked my heels off.

He put his hands on my shoulders and guided me to my knees. I didn't need instructions as I pulled his pants down quickly, tugged his boxers to his knees and gasped at his eight inch cock.

"Think you can deep-throat this?" he asked.

I looked up, smiled and, without a word, took all eight inches in my mouth. I bobbed like a hungry slut, suddenly craving cum.

He groaned, "You're just as dirty and hot as I hoped."

I moaned on his cock as I continued taking all eight inches in my mouth and down my throat.

"Want to get fucked, my teacher slut," he asked.

I took his cock out of my mouth and replied, "God, yes, I want that big cock in me."

He pulled me up, turned me around, pulled up my skirt, tugged down my panties, bent me over and slid easily into my inferno.

"Fuuuuuuck," I screamed, as all eight inches filled me completely, his being the first cock inside me in months.

He held onto my hips and slammed into me hard, each deep thrust seemingly going deeper.

"Oh, God, fuck me," I screamed.

"Fuck you're tight," he grunted, as he continued fucking me.

"Your cock feels so fucking good," I moaned, not wanting this amazing feeling to end.

"I've wanted to fuck you since the first day of senior year," he said, as his cock slid out of me.

"Nooo," I whined, "shove that big snake back in me."

He laughed, "You're even more insatiable than I imagined," before filling my cunt again.

"Just pound your teacher," I demanded, loving his big cock and dominant behaviour.

"Lift your right leg up," he ordered. 

I obeyed, curious, as he grabbed my ankle and continued fucking me.

"Oh, Goddddddddddddddddd," I screamed, as this new position caused a new pleasure to course through my entire body.

"I want you to come on my cock, teacher slut," he demanded, as my breathing got heavier.

"Sooooo close," I moaned, as he hammered into me.

"Come now, slut," he demanded, lifting my leg higher.

"Oh God, fuck, yessssss," I screamed, as my long withheld orgasm cascaded through me.

"Good teacher slut," he complimented, as he continued fucking me throughout my orgasm.

"Shiiiiiit, fucccck," I babbled incoherently, as the intensity of the orgasm continued to riddle through me.

Suddenly he pulled out, pushed me back onto my knees and shoved his cock in my mouth. I resumed bobbing hungrily, desperate to get him off and taste his cum.

"I'm going to come all over your pretty face," he declared, as I continued slobbering all over his stiff rod.

A moment later, he pulled out and pumped his cock as I opened wide for his sweet cum.

"Close your mouth, slut," he ordered, "I want all my cum on you."

"You're a dirty boy," I teased, as I obeyed.



Seconds later, a laser beam of cum hit me on my lips. A second stream also hit my lips, before a third stream landed on my tits and blouse.

Looking up at him, I attempted to seductively retrieve the cum on my lips.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck," Kelly screamed, as she held the shower head on her clit as her orgasm hit her.

Once her orgasm finally finished, she shook her head at how vivid and real her fantasy had been. Would she actually fuck Chris if the opportunity arose? He was an ex-student, but clearly an adult now, a very sexy adult. She finished showering, her head spinning with a mixture of emotions.

.....

Chris, meanwhile, worked until ten before heading home.

Chris replayed the day, the very subtle hints she may be interested. The honest, detailed account of her ex-boyfriend's nasty break-up and the brief looks she seemed to give him implied she may be interested. Yet, after dinner she never came downstairs, never came to check on him, which implied maybe she wasn't.

Either way, as soon as Chris was in the shower, he began pumping his cock imagining fucking Kelly.

He remembered a day near the end of the school year where she kept dangling her shoe from her black stocking-clad feet. He kept waiting for the shoe to hit the floor, so he could see her toes and foot, but it never fell. As he kept stroking his cock, he imagined her in black thigh highs posing for him, like he always felt she was doing when she teased him relentlessly in high school, even if she didn't know it.

Imagining her bent over, posing for him, he furiously pumped his cock. It took only a few strokes before his cum shot out of his cock as he imagined coming all over her ass, her face, and her feet. The possibilities were endless...yet at the moment that was all they were...possibilities.

.....

The next day, Kelly had parent-teacher interviews and didn't get home until late. Although exhausted, parent-teacher interview nights always being long and tiring, she checked on Chris when she got home. She felt another tingle down below when she walked downstairs and saw Chris working without a shirt. His upper body was Adonis like and Kelly briefly imagined what it would be like to ride him while her hands were on his chest.

Yet, after some brief small talk, Kelly went upstairs for a long bubble bath and a glass of wine, deciding that she had to behave herself.

Chris watched her walk upstairs, noticing her reaction to him shirtless. He smiled, thinking that if he played his cards right he just may get her yet.

.....

Things calmed down after that and it wasn't until the following week that the sexual tension increased. Kelly was reading on the couch, again staying in her teacher attire, liking the impact it seemed to have on Chris, when he came upstairs for a glass of water.

Chris walked in and asked, "Are you planning on having your television downstairs on the wall or on a TV stand?"

"What do you think?" Kelly asked.

Chris glanced down and saw her perfectly pedicured feet and got distracted, finally seeing what her feet without heels looked like after all these years. He stammered, distracted, "Well, I, um, the wall gives you more space."

Kelly noticed Chris's distraction, and uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way. "Well, you're the expert."

"What're you reading?" Chris asked, wanting to extend his brief time with her.

"A Nicholas Sparks book," Kelly admitted.

"I expected more from you," Chris joked.

"What? He writes great romances," Kelly said, always wanting to find such an unconditional love.

"If you say so," Chris smiled.

"Have you ever read any of his books?" Kelly asked, wiggling her toes.

"Um," Chris began, again distracted, "No, I can't say I have. But I was forced to watch that Miley Cyrus one."

"Well, that doesn't count," Kelly said, "that was a terrible adaptation. You need to watch A Walk to Remember or The Notebook."

"I'm not sure 'need' is the right word," Chris joked.

"That's it," Kelly said, standing up. "You are taking a break from work and watching a movie with me."

"Seriously?" Chris asked, although he was definitely game. Watching a chick flick with a woman often led to action.

"Yes," she said, grabbing a DVD from the shelf and putting it in her DVD player. She sat back down and said, patting the couch, "Come join me."

"All right," Chris shrugged, before pointing out, "but this isn't helping get your basement done."

"Sometimes there are more important things, like expanding a man's horizons," Kelly said, wondering if she was doing the right thing. He may think that this was an opening to something more than just watching a movie.

Chris sat beside her and said, "So what crap are you making me watch?"

"You haven't changed a bit," Kelly said, slapping his knee.

"Tough to mess with perfection," Chris shrugged, acting confident like he usually was with women, even as he glanced at her nylon-clad knee just inches away from him.

"And still overly confident, I see," Kelly smiled, before adding, "I like that." As soon as she said it, she wondered why she had. There was no doubt she found Chris hot, no doubt that he made her feel like a school girl, and no doubt that the temptation to sleep with him was growing.

"Good to know," Chris responded with a nod, sensing that their relationship was beginning to change.

The movie started and they watched it. Part way through, Chris, who had spent more time glancing at her nylon legs than the movie, began to daydream, imagining what might happen if he took the risk. He sensed she was submissive, even though he couldn't explain why he sensed it, and felt if he just took control of the situation he could have her.

"You want my cock, don't you, Ms. Anderson?" I asked, sitting on the couch.

She was standing up, having put the movie in, and smiled, not denying it, "And what makes you think that?"

"Well, first, you didn't deny it when I just asked the question and secondly, you keep staring at my crotch," I confidently assessed.

"Maybe I just don't want to hurt your feelings," she countered.

"And the staring at my crotch?" I asked.




"Stocking Tales": Face Full of Cum



"Maybe you're imagining that," she said.

"Crawl to me," I demanded, pulling out my already stiff cock.

"That's rather pretentious," she said, even as she stared at my eight inch cock.

"Now, Ms. Anderson," I ordered.

After a brief hesitation, she obeyed, kneeling on the ottoman to take her glasses off.

"Keep them on," I ordered, "you look super-hot in glasses."

"Okay," she shrugged.

"Go ahead, Ms. Anderson, suck my cock," I instructed.

"You want your old teacher to blow you?" she asked, smiling as her hand grabbed my cock.

"No, I want my hot teacher to beg to suck my cock," I countered.

"You bad boy," she smiled, as she stroked my cock.

"Beg," I ordered.

"Oh please, Chris, can I suck your big hard cock?" she said hungrily.

I grabbed her head and guided her to my cock. I moaned as she engulfed my cock, slowly taking me in.

She slowly bobbed up and down, making love to my cock.



After a few minutes of this, I stood up, ordered her onto her knees, and began slowly fucking her face. She moaned on my cock as I took control, so I began moving faster, really fucking her face. She made loud slobbering sounds as she tried her best to continue sucking me as I used her face. Finally I pulled out and before she could even react I began coming all over her face.

I hit her glasses, mouth, cheek and chin and was surprised when she looked up and said, "You could have just shot your load down my throat."

"Next time," I smiled.

Kelly noticed that Chris wasn't really watching the movie; she also noticed a significant bulge in his pants and wondered what he was thinking about. She said, "See, isn't that sweet?"

"W-what is sweet?" Chris stammered, pulled out his daydream as he returned his gaze to the television.

"He made one of her bucket list items come true," Kelly said, always finding the scene sweet.

Chris watched just as the Mandy Moore character straddled two states at once. "That's corny," he said.

"You cold hearted bastard," Kelly quipped, again playfully hitting him.

Chris slapped her leg back, getting a brief feel of her silky legs, "You romantic fool."

"We all need romance sometimes," Kelly pointed out, before adding, again saying it before she realized she had, "of course, other times we all need to just get laid."

Chris couldn't believe she had said that. This was definitely an opening, but just before he could take advantage of it, she hastily stood up and asked, "Would you like a drink?"

Chris considered replying, 'Yes, your pussy juice would be fine,' but instead answered, realizing the moment was gone as quick as it had come, "Actually, I should probably get back to work."

"Oh, okay," Kelly said, confused by her mixed emotions. Part of her wanted to just straddle him on the couch, while another part of her kept reminding herself that he was an ex-student...a hot ex-student, but still an ex-student.

Chris worked for another hour, his balls ready to burst, while Kelly went up to her room and used her we-vibe to get herself off, again fantasizing of Chris just taking her. She knew if he made a move, she wouldn't resist. She wanted him; she wanted to get laid; she wanted to suck cock.

As she went to bed that night, Kelly decided that if he made a move, she would give in. They were both adults and he hadn't been a student of hers for years. And fuck...he was hot.

.....

Unfortunately for Kelly, Chris didn't make a move. He had felt that the abrupt end to the night they watched a movie was a pretty clear sign that she wasn't interested. Yet for the next couple of weeks, Kelly continued to dress sexier and sexier, even getting home from school and switching into even shorter skirts that revealed she was wearing thigh high stockings in an attempt to add to her allure, her sex appeal and, according to Ben back in the day, to give her man easier access to her fuck hole (his words).

Kelly was getting more and more frustrated with the reality that her obvious signs of willingness were being ignored.

Finally, after two weeks of flirting and innuendo, Kelly decided that she would make the first move. It was only a few minutes after Chris arrived, that she called him upstairs. "Chris, can you come upstairs and give me a hand in my office."

Chris called out, "Sure, give me a minute." Chris had noticed that ever since the movie night, Kelly had been dressing sexier, always stayed in nylons, and had complimented him often. Yet, instead of taking the many windows of opportunity that had been presented, he continued to resist the temptation, not wanting to risk being wrong. He was greatly enjoying their talks and subtle flirtation, and was planning to ask her out on a date for this weekend. She loved blues music and a three day blues festival was starting in a couple days. He was confident she would say yes, yet this was a low risk attempt to move their relationship forward. If she wasn't interested in an intimate relationship, he would play the friends card. Yet, he hoped he had read all the signs correctly, as he was falling for her hard.

Unfortunately, one minute became five as Chris finished the task he had started.

Kelly was frustrated at waiting, her bold confidence when she called him up, getting weaker with each passing minute. She desperately wanted to get laid, yet she didn't want to look desperate. She felt like she was a teenager again, waiting for a boy to call. She knew he was interested, that was obvious, yet he wasn't making the move a teenage boy would make. She glanced in the mirror; she attempted to replicate an adorable teacher look, and was startled when Chris finally entered the office. She smiled, as she gave a cute pose, and asked, "What do you think?"

Chris wasn't sure what the question was but he couldn't help but notice how sexy she looked as she seemed to pose for him. "About what?" Chris asked.

Going for broke, deciding men were stupid and being subtle sure wasn't working. Kelly hopped onto the desk, revealing the top of her thigh high stockings, and bluntly asked the question, "Did you ever fantasize about seeing my tits when you were in my class, Chris?

Chris was taken aback by the question. Her flirting had always been playful, often awkward, but this was completely different: blunt and hot. He also had indeed fantasized about her tits not only while in class, but at home and most recently last night.

Kelly, enjoying his shocked reaction and stunned silence, asked, her tone dripping with sultry sweetness, "Do you want to see them, Chris?"

Chris stammered, it now being his turn to feel like a teenager, "Y-y-yes."

As Kelly moved, her shoe hit the floor. Her cunt was already wet with anticipation that it would soon be filled with Chris's cock. Like Chris, she had enjoyed getting to know him better, loved his quirky sense of humour, his ability to listen and his damn great body. She didn't want to just fuck Chris, she envisioned the possibility of a relationship. Yet, at this moment, it wasn't about long term; it was about satisfying a need she had been denying for way too long. She unbuttoned her blouse, feeling sexy and wanton, as he watched with lust.

Chris couldn't believe it was finally happening. A fantasy he had long given up on was now becoming a reality and although he was usually a confident man with the ladies, he was tongue tied.



Kelly felt giddy with excitement as she pulled her blouse open and posed for Chris. Smiling, she asked, "Are they what you imagined?"

"They're amazing," Chris answered in awe, before adding, "You're amazing."

"Come here," she ordered.

Chris walked to her, leaned in and kissed her.

Kelly kissed him back, their tongues darting in and out of each other's mouths, like explorers who have finally found their treasure.

Chris reached with his left hand and cupped her breast. They were as firm as he had envisioned. Breaking the kiss, he leaned down and took her left nipple in his mouth.

Kelly moaned loudly, "I've wanted this for so long."

Chris quipped, as he swirled his tongue around her nipple, "I think I've wanted this a lot longer than you."

Kelly laughed, "Fair enough."

Chris slid his tongue down her breasts, between her tits, before moving to her right breast.

"Bite them," Kelly moaned, wanting more than just tender teasing. Her lust controlling her, she wanted to be used, to be fucked.

Chris obliged, shifting from tender to more aggressive as he pulled her nipple between his teeth.

"God, yessss," Kelly moaned, the pleasure she was receiving sending pulsations throughout her body.

Chris could've spent all day just playing with her tits, loving the impact it was having on her.

Yet, Kelly wanted more. She said sexily, "Let's see what you have been hiding in those jeans." She moved off the desk, dropped to her knees, and quickly fished out his cock. She had imagined it was big in her fantasies and she wasn't disappointed as she pulled out a nice, thick, stiff eight inch cock. She smiled, as she stroked it, "If I would have known you were packing this in class I would have been on my knees long ago."

Chris groaned, looking down at her, "Well, let's make up for lost time."

"I couldn't agree more," Kelly concurred, as her lips wrapped around his cock.

Chris watched in disbelief as his beautiful ex-teacher, began sucking his cock. She used her tongue to swirl around his mushroom top while simultaneously stroking him. After a couple of minutes of teasing, she began to bob back and forth. 

Kelly usually would tease a man for a couple of minutes, take his balls in her mouth, and then deep throat him and take his first load in her mouth or on her face, then prepare for a marathon fuck, but being their first time together, and wanting to get fucked hard and now, she said as much as she took Chris's cock out of her mouth. "Just for the record, I love sucking cock, but right now I need you in me."

Chris had never heard a woman say they loved sucking cock. It was always a task that was expected and done usually with reluctance. He quipped, "For the record, I love eating pussy."

"Good to know," Kelly smiled, standing up, bending over the desk and adding, "now come and fuck me."

"Fuck, it's so hot to hear you swear," Chris said, as he moved behind her.

"Then wait until you're really pounding me," Kelly quipped with a smile, as she lifted up her skirt to reveal she was sans underwear. 

Chris loved hearing his ex-teacher, so prim and proper, talking like a horny slut. He asked, as he positioned his cock to slide into her, "Did you teach me without underwear?"

"Maybe," Kelly smiled.

Chris rubbed his cock between her pussy lips, teasing her, wanting her to beg for his cock.

Kelly, as if reading his mind, begged, "Now stop teasing me and shove that cock in me."

Chris wasn't one to ever refuse such an offer, and slid his cock into her cunt. It was incredibly warm and tight.

"God, yesssssss," Kelly moaned, his big cock feeling as amazing as she had imagined it would.

Chris began slowly fucking her, wanting to enjoy his fantasy become reality.

Kelly, meanwhile, wanted to be fucked deep and hard. After a few slow strokes, she demanded, "Come on baby, fuck me hard. Pound my cunt."

Chris loved hearing such nasty talk out of such a beautiful woman. He began slamming into her, creating the beautiful sound as their bodies met.

Kelly was overwhelmed with lust. Chris's massive cock filled her completely and she could feel her orgasm already building in just a couple of minutes. "Oh God, fuck my cunt," she begged.

Chris could tell she was close and decided to use his special maneuver that almost always worked in this position. He ordered, "Lift up your right leg."

"Kkkkk," Kelly obeyed, having never done this before, but recalling her recent fantasy where this exact thing happened.

Chris held her by the thigh, loving the feel of her silk-clad leg, and holding her in this position let him reach new depths.

Kelly moaned and got very animated, "Oh yes, baby, pound me, fill my cunt with your big cock."

"I love hearing you talk dirty," Chris admitted.

"You like hearing your sweet teacher talk like a dirty sluuuuuut?" Kelly asked, loving the shift from sweet to slutty.

"God, yess," Chris groaned.

"Tonight, I'm your slut, baby," Kelly moaned, as her orgasm got so close.

"Come for me," Chris demanded, as he fucked her so hard the desk moved.

A couple deep thrusts later, the dam finally burst, as Kelly screamed, "Oh yes, fuck, I love your coooooock,"

Chris could feel her cum on his cock and pulled out, dropped to his knees, and buried his face in her leaking cunt.

Kelly had never had a man eat her out as she was orgasming and couldn't believe how intense it felt. "Oh shiiiiiiit," she whimpered, as she gripped the desk for dear life as all the energy in her body was sapped by the intense orgasm.

Chris couldn't believe how sweet her pussy juice tasted as he eagerly licked it all up.

After a moment, Chris's tongue was beginning to tickle Kelly and she quickly moved around, dropped to her knees and took Chris's cock back in her mouth. She loved the taste of her own pussy on his cock and began bobbing back and forth hungrily. 

It took only seconds, sadly, before Chris was ready to shoot his own load, Kelly's tight cunt and expert mouth too much to resist. "Fuck, I'm going to come," Chris warned, knowing most women didn't like to swallow.

Kelly backed off, pumped his cock and said, "You can come in my mouth or on my face."



Chris had never given a woman a facial and the thought of coming on Kelly was the final straw. Before he could even respond, the first stream of cum hit her directly on her nose. A second rope hit her chin, before the remainder landed on her chest.

Kelly laughed, "Well, I guess that answers that question."

Chris apologized, "Sorry, just hearing you say I could come on your face was all it took to make me shoot my load."

Kelly, feeling cum drip off her chin and onto her tits, added, "Well, you sure had a big load in you."

"I've been told I shoot a lot of cum," Chris admitted.



"I wasn't lying," Kelly said, stroking his cock. "I love sucking cock."

"Well, I love getting my cock sucked," Chris smiled. "So I guess we are compatible."

Kelly added, "Oh yes, we are very compatible."

Kelly leaned back and asked, looking up at him, "So, did you ever fantasize about me looking like this?"

"I have fantasized about you in every way imaginable," Chris admitted.

"So you imagined this?" Kelly asked, as she scooped up the cum on her face and put it in her mouth. "Mmmmmmm, yummy," she added.

"My fantasies never got quite that elaborate," Chris admitted, before adding, "but this reality far outdoes all my fantasies."

"Well, my fantasies about you are more recent, but they too have been greatly outdone by this great big cock of yours," Kelly admitted too, before leaning forward and taking his cock back into her mouth hoping to get it hard again.

Chris groaned, loving looking down at this beautiful woman bobbing on his cock, "I should probably get back to work."

She took his cock out of her mouth and said, "Shut up, I'm your boss and you have some more drilling to do up here."

"Well, they say the customer is always right," Chris quipped.

Kelly took his cock back in her mouth, knowing that she wanted to get fucked again, as her second orgasm always came quicker, and she also wanted to swallow a full load, the cum she had scooped up and swallowed just a small sampling.

After countless orgasms for Kelly and two more loads shot by Chris, both down Kelly's throat, Kelly keeping to her declaration that she loved sucking cock, they fell asleep.

.....

The next morning, Kelly woke up late and they barely had time to say more than a good morning, no time to talk about last night's marathon sex session and the implications for more the next day. So both spent the day wondering the same thing: were they a couple? Fuck buddies? Or was it a one-time thing? Both wanted it to be more than just a one night stand, both saw it as the beginning of a potentially great relationship, yet neither knew what the other was thinking.

Chris couldn't believe his fantasy had become reality and could only hope that she saw things like he did...as the beginning of a relationship.

That evening, Kelly decided to make it clear that she wanted more than a one night stand. She couldn't explain it, but she hadn't stop thinking about him all day. She wasn't sure it was love, but it definitely wasn't just lust. Wanting to see him again...NOW...she texted Chris that they needed to talk and to come to the spare bedroom when he arrived. Dressed only in lingerie, she eagerly awaited his arrival, her pussy dying to be filled again. 

Chris fretted about the text. Nothing good ever came from the phrase 'We need to talk'. Yet, he decided that no matter what she said, he was going to tell her exactly how he felt. That this was way more than a one night stand, this was love...or at least the potential for it. He had never really been in love, or at least he had never felt like he did now. Excited to see her, yet nervous too. When he got there, he tentatively approached the spare bedroom. When he walked in the room, he stopped dead in his tracks.



Kelly smiled, "I couldn't decide how to tell you that I really enjoyed last night."

Chris smiled back, "And I was worried you were going to tell me last night was a mistake."

"The only mistake we made was not doing this earlier," she smiled, spinning around off the dresser, walking to him and kissing him.

The kiss lasted an eternity, as both felt the relief of knowing that the other felt the same way they did. 

Breaking the kiss, Chris looked into her eyes and said, "Kelly, I think I'm in love with you."

Kelly stared into his eyes, surprised by the words and yet also surprised by the way they made her feel. "I think I love you too," she returned. After a pause, she grabbed his crotch and added, "And I know without a doubt I love this." She dropped to her knees, a position she loved to be in, fished out Chris's semi-erect cock and took it in her mouth.

EPILOGUE:

Of course, like all loves, it comes when least expected. 

When they first met it was the wrong place, the wrong time.

This time though, it was the right place, and the right time.




"Stocking Tales": Face Full of Cum





Six months later, Chris asked Kelly to marry him while they were on a weekend getaway in Niagara Falls. With the falls in the background, Kelly, of course, said yes. The two celebrated with a marathon love making session at a hotel in Niagara Falls and Kelly, as usual, ended up with a face full of cum.

Eight months after that, on their wedding day, they couldn't wait to consummate their marriage until after the I'dos. 

Instead Chris snuck into Kelly's parents' home, catching his bride-to-be in the early stages of dress for her big day.

Kelly smiled, "You just couldn't wait."

"I just wanted to make sure that besides something borrowed, you would also have something goo," Chris quipped.

"I think that is supposed to be something new," Kelly smiled, dropping to her knees. 

"You sure?" Chris laughed, as Kelly deep-throat his cock.

Chris and Kelly had a quickie, even as her mother knocked on her door and Chris coated his bride-to-be's face and tits making sure their indeed was goo.

"Make sure you wear that under your dress?" 

"Of course," Kelly smiled, rubbing the cum on her tits. 

An hour later, Kelly walked down the aisle with Chris's cum sticking to her. 

Three hours later, she took another load in the limo, a sticky load in her hair...a naughty secret that she wore throughout the dinner and dancing.

A few hours later, they consummated their marriage for real...doing it the old fashioned way...as Chris shot his final load of the day in his new bride's cunt.

Nine month later, they had a baby girl.

THE END

Author's Note: Thanks again to HOUSEWIFE KELLY for the generous use of her photos. 



"Stocking Tales": Office Submission



Summary: Sexy submissive MILF does WHATEVER it takes to get the job.

Note 1:  A great thank you goes to Vanessa for modeling for the photos (I pray I am as beautiful as you in ten years). 

Note 2:  Another great thanks to the photographer Richard who took the pictures and created the ambience.

Note 3:  Thanks to Mab7991 for his editing this story and LaRacasse for plot suggestions.

*

Forty-two....

Forty-fucking-two....

Forty-two and going through empty nest syndrome. My twenty-one-year-old son was in Europe backpacking to, as he said in his own words, 'Find himself'. While my eighteen-year-old daughter recently graduated from high school and having received a full scholarship to Berkeley, had moved clear across the country to California to attend school there.

Forty-two and single.

Forty-two and alone.

Forty-two and feeling like a teenager: insecure and wanting.

Forty-two and the last things to pleasure me were toys and sadly, craving a deep fucking, a very lengthy cucumber. 

Forty-two and I had not been with a man intimately in over five years...not since my husband Alan died in a car accident (yes, I dated a few men, some even good guys, but I always compared them to my deceased husband and always felt I was betraying his memory by bringing a man home to meet my children or sleeping with them).

Forty-two and lost. In retrospect, I was the poster woman for stay-at-home moms. I was heavily involved with my children's lives and in many ways lived vicariously through them (especially after Alan passed). I was a chauffeur, I was a cook, I was a party planner, I was a shoulder to cry on, I was a parent volunteer and I eventually was PTA Chair. So when all those duties, all those roles disappeared, I really didn't know what to do. My life was my children and now that my life was my own I had no idea what to do.

Forty-two and broke. The money from Alan's life insurance policy kept us ok for awhile, the house is paid for and so forth, but the extra money was gone and I needed a job, something I had never had before (Alan believed in being the man of the house and I the stay at home housewife). 

Forty-two and qualified to do everything and nothing. 

Forty-two...

.....

What I learned after a month of job searching was I was qualified for absolutely nothing. Apparently over twenty years of raising children did not count as experience on a resume and even though I had planned a plethora of big events (graduation, family carnivals and an abundance of fundraisers), the job market didn't care. Although I had many transferable skills, prospective employers didn't see parenting as equivalent to, as they called it, 'real life' experience. 

By the time of my monthly girl's night out arrived, I was frustrated and more than a little stressed. 

As we drank wine at a candle party, I whined about all my unemployment problems finishing with, "And in conclusion it seems I am unemployable. Too old to be worth training and way too young to be thinking pension...I am only forty-two for Christ sake."

Bella, A friend of a friend, and the youngest and newest addition to our group, said, "Not sure you are interested, but our firm is hiring a temporary secretary, as Carolyn is going on maternity leave."

"Really?" I asked, feeling a glimmer of hope.

"I can put in a good word for you," she added.

"Please do," I said, excited about the opportunity.

"I can even give you tips on what to wear," she added, "Mr. Jackson is very particular." Her tone playful yet for some reason seemingly ominous.

"How so?" I asked, 

"He is a leg man," Bella explained, squeezing my leg. "So dress professional, yet sexy professional."

"Sexy professional?" I questioned.

"Yes, always wear a skirt, and always wear nylons," she explained, before adding, "sexy, but professional."

"Oh," was all I said as I wondered what I had that would be both sexy and professional.

.....

Two weeks later, I had an interview and I dressed to impress. I bought an outfit almost indescribable: a black blazer blouse. I didn't know such a thing existed, but it was definitely sexy and yet oddly professional. A matching black skirt, and black heels tailored the look perfectly. 

To finish the look I did what I always did, ever since I met my husband, I dressed sexy underneath my conservative attire. Whether it be a PTA meeting, supervising a dance, out for supper, or just hosting friends, I would wear a sexy bra and thigh high stockings and nothing else. I loved the thrill of going commando, of no one knowing my sexy secret, no one knowing that underneath the conservative dress, the safe make-up and sweet smile, was a slutty woman who had been utterly obedient and submissive sexually to her husband. And even after his death, I continued to go about sans underwear, except when Aunt Ruby paid her monthly visit and all my bras were bought at an expensive lingerie shop. Lastly, I didn't even own a pair of pantyhose and hadn't in years, decades even, only wearing thigh high stockings for, as Alan called it, 'easy access to my cunt'. He insisted on calling my special place a cunt and not the less nasty pussy or the politically correct vagina...it was always a cunt. A shiver went up my spine as I fondly recalled my many naughty submissive encounters with Alan.

So underneath my sexy, unique and professional outfit, I went commando as usual, wore matching black thigh highs and a fun, sexy, naughty black bra.

I wore my brown hair up and my make-up hid the few facial blemishes that come with age. Attempting for the typical secretary look I had my glasses on, even though I usually wear contacts.

Truth be told for forty-two, I am still in great shape and get my fair amount of looks and second looks from boys and men. Looking in the mirror, I decided I had perfectly perfected the sexy, but professional look.

.....

I arrived early as interview edict dictates and waited forty minutes, twenty-five past the scheduled interview time, also seemingly part of standard interview expectations based on my past month experience.

Finally, the secretary, who was so big I thought she might go into labor at any second, announced, "Mr. Jackson will see you now."

"Thank you," I replied, standing up and preparing myself for another potential rejection.

Building my confidence, the one that was strong and never wavered when I was PTA chair or running any number of complex events; the confidence that had slowly faltered rejection after rejection.

"Please take a seat," he offered, offering the chair across from his desk.

I froze in my tracks. His strong, husky, I am in control voice was eerily similar to my deceased husband.

Suddenly rattled, I stammered, "T-t-thank you, Mr. Jackson," and took my seat, crossing my legs. I noticed also, unlike other potential employers, he made no effort to get up and greet me. Again, like my deceased husband, it was clear who was in charge.

I should have known where this may be leading by his first words, but I was so caught up in making a good impression and slightly distracted by just how much he reminded me of Alan, I had trouble focusing.

"So, Amanda," he opened, also the first to use my first name in an interview, "Bella was dead on, you are the complete package."

I caught on instantly this was a compliment and I just as instantly understood that flirtation would be an effective strategy. I replied, demurely, trying to match the sexy, yet professional, ensemble, "Well, thank you. You seem to have the complete package too." 

As soon as I said it I wished I could take it back, the sexual innuendo so obvious that I now looked like a slut using my sexual wiles to get the job, but a few things had me rattled and not thinking straight. Besides his strong, powerful voice and his clearly in charge demeanor, he was a sexy older man and I have always had a thing for sexy older men. Alan had been nine years older than me and I pegged Mr. Jackson to have about the same extra life experience as Alan had on me.

He had no reaction at all to my comment. He asked, "So I see you have no actual business experience."

I noticed his eyes continually glance towards my stocking-clad legs and I knew I could use my sexuality to my advantage: sexy, not slutty, flirty not obvious. I defended, "No I don't as a secretary but as PTA chair for three years I ran huge events and...."

"Stop there, Amanda," he interrupted, "Based on your volunteer work, I think you are more than experienced enough to handle the menial tasks of the job."

A sigh of relief warmed me at the thought of being judged based on my extensive volunteer work and not my choice to not get a 9 to 5 job. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson."

"It is the intensity of the job that may be an issue," he stated, my brief bubble of hope already about to burst. 

I noticed his constant glimpses at my heels and wondered if he was a foot guy like my husband had been. I decided to test my theory, my dangling my heel from my toes of the foot that was crossed over the other. 

As expected, his gaze went to the tangling heel as I asked, "Intensity?"

"Yes, my secretary is on call twenty-four, seven, seven days a week," he informed me, returning his gaze to my eyes.

"Oh my," I said, surprised by the full scope of the job. 

Another look at my dangling heel, he continued, "I travel a lot and I need someone who has the flexibility to be able to travel a lot and often with almost no warning."

Again the scope was extreme, but I thought to myself that I had no current life or weekly expectations, and I loved traveling, and had not left the state since Alan passed, except for checking out Berkeley with Ellie. Allowing my heel to hit the floor I answered, "Well, I do love to travel."

It was obvious this time that he was checking my stocking-clad foot. He asked, still looking down, "And the on call aspect?"

I reached down for my heel, but stopped as he ordered, "Leave it there, Amanda."

I could sense the shift in the interview, as I obeyed sitting back on the chair. "Well, the kids are gone, so I really have no commitments."

His eyes finally returned to me. "And you are widowed, correct?"

"Yes," I admitted, before adding, "Five years now."

No fake condolences, like I usually received, as he pushed further. My uncovered toes clearly a distraction to him. "You will answer your cell phone no matter the time of day or night," he explained, his tone no nonsense. 

Realizing the flavor of the interview had changed, I answered, now more flirty than professional, "That goes without saying."

He asked, eyebrow raised, "Are you sure you can handle this? Many have quit due to the overbearing workload."

Staring at him, I slowly uncrossed my legs. If he was looking closely he would notice that I was not wearing panties. After a brief delay, I readjusted, crossing my legs the other way. What should have taken two or three seconds, took fifteen or twenty as I attempted to imply my desire through my actions, my teasing. I replied, allowing my other heel to dangle, a mixture of sweetness, seductiveness and confidence, "I am capable of almost anything. I am a very determined woman who always gets the job done, no matter what it takes."

I knew I was speaking in double-entendres, as I was both flirty and serious at the same time. Was I offering sex at the time? No. But was the thought of him fucking me in the back of my mind? Yes. He was just so much like my husband in voice, attitude and demeanor. And five years without having my needs met with a real man added to the hunger and lack of dignity that I was already feeling. 

He had watched the entire simple act of crossing my legs like it was a slow motion action scene in a movie. 

He finally replied, a delayed response to be sure, the first tone of something other than business in his tone, "Anything, is a pretty dangerous word."

Allowing my second heel to hit the floor, clearly on purpose, I replied, my tone no longer hiding my growing hunger. "Well, it is a very dangerous world."

His gaze never left my stocking-clad feet as he stood up. He didn't move towards me, just stood above me I assume implying who was in charge.

I could feel wetness starting to form down below at the thought of submission to him, my hunger to regain that clear Dom-submissive relationship I once had. I felt a desire to rekindle a sex life that had long flamed out, from the grief of the death of my husband, and the fear of bringing another man into my children's life. 

Finally he spoke. "My secretary must not only be twenty-four seven, seven days a week, they must also be a full-service secretary."

Maybe I can have my cake and eat it too I thought to myself. I looked up coyly, my voice dripping with implication, "And what does a full-service secretary entail?" The answer obvious, the question technically rhetorical.

Ignoring my question, he asked one instead. "You have kids correct?"

"Yes," I answered, surprised by the 180 degree turn, before adding, "but they are both far, far away."

"I hate to be blunt but after what happened with Carolyn I need to know," he started.

I vaguely recalled that Carolyn was his current very pregnant secretary and clarity came crystal clear. He had knocked up his, much younger and fertile, 'full-time secretary.' He was implying if I took the job he was planning on fucking me regularly. My cunt leaked more.

My answer, I assumed, sealed our upcoming relationship. "I had my tubes tied a couple years after the birth of my second child," I revealed, before adding after a lengthy pause, "sir."

The slightest glimmer of a smile flickered across his lips. After a lengthy pause, where time seemed to stop completely, he finally spoke. Ironically, as he sat back down, he ordered firmly,"Stand up."

I didn't hesitate, knowing from experience the true meaning of obedience. I obeyed without protest, without hesitation. Only through utter, complete submission can a true Domme-submissive relationship work. A true submissive gives up all control of their life to their Domme, their Master. I had done that with my late husband.

"Good," his one word approval allowed the long dormant flame below to start to burn. "But be warned I expect obedience and I punish any lack of it," he stressed his eyes boring through me, seeing my need to submit.

"I understand," I whispered, nervous and yet full of anticipation.

"Take your skirt off," he instructed, watching my every move and reacting only with his eyes.

I again obeyed, unzipping the skirt and allowing it to drop revealing so many secrets in one quick second. 

I saw a look of surprise on his face; clearly he wasn't expecting the fact that I was not wearing any panties. 

My face felt a little red being put in such a compromising position with a relative stranger, yet deep down it just felt right.

"Do you usually go without underwear?" he finally asked.

"Yes, sir," I admitted, again responding submissively. "I haven't worn underwear since college, except of course."

"Yes, of course," he replied, a real smile crossing his face for the first time. "And the thigh highs?" he asked.

"They make me feel sexy, my deceased husband loved them and," I paused, my turn to take brief control, "he liked the, as he called it, easy access to my cunt."

"Hmmmm," he said, if a sound can be considered saying. 

Finally, he ordered, "Unbutton your blouse."

"Yes, sir," I obeyed, slowly, seductively, my eyes never leaving his. Button by button my thrill to obey making me wetter and wetter.

He watched intently, no facial expression giving away whether he was excited or bored by my slow striptease.

My last button undone, I smiled just enough to show my excitement that I eagerly wanted more instructions. I waited further instruction as I knew not to make presumptions that he wanted my blouse off. He would decide when I did, not me.

"You understand, of course, that I need to make sure you are a good fit to be a," he paused and used humour for the first time, "member of my staff."

My smile provocative, my tone sexy, and my posture revealing, I answered, "What do I need to do to," I paused for effect, my hand moving close to my wet cunt, "prove my worthiness?"

"You will, of course, stay with me when we travel," he explained all business, again not answering my flirty answer.

"Of course, it would save on travel costs," I agreed, pointing out a sound logical reason for sharing a room.

"And you understand at meetings you may have to do more than just dictation," he continued, giving me every opportunity to back out.

I wondered if he meant I would have to please other men to seal a deal of sorts or if I would be his quickie sexual relief during long negotiations. I briefly reflected on my biggest regret that was not having made my biggest fantasy come true, to be gangbanged. Maybe he could make it come true. Regardless of his intent, I answered as expected, "I am capable of and experienced in all sorts of dick-taking."

My declaration finally convincing and as blunt as possible, he said, "I think you will be an excellent addition to our firm. But first let's see if you and I have a similar definition of dictation."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, my smile devious, my intent obvious, my cunt burning and my mind spinning.

"Fall to your knees and crawl to me," he ordered.



"Yes sir," I obeyed, gracefully falling to my knees and slowly, hopefully sexily, crawling submissively on my hands and knees to him.

Once at his feet, he looked down at me and asked, "Are you sure you are ready for this?"

I didn't know if he meant the job or the blow job, but the answer was the same either way. Not remotely hiding my hunger to submit unconditionally, I moaned, my insatiable hunger to obey, to please, "Oh God, yes."




"Stocking Tales": Office Submission



"Ready for your first dictation?" he asked, unbuckling his belt.

I hoped sucking cock was like riding a bike, even after not doing it for a long time you don't ever completely lose the ability. Alan loved having his cock sucked more than fucking and thus I usually received at least one daily dose of cum, often more. Yet, I hadn't sucked cock or swallowed a sweet load of jizz in over five years and my appetite was ferocious. Although I didn't miss it when I went without, the potential load waiting to be deposited in me had me craving cum like I used to. 

"Ready and willing," I replied, eager to see his cock, praying it was as impressive as I was already imagining in my head. I watched intently and seeing my eagerness, he took his time. 

Finally, he pulled out his fully erect and ready to go cock out of his pants. I stared hungrily at it. It was not super big, seven inches, two inches smaller than Alan's was, yet it was the thickest cock I had ever seen. My mouth literally watered in eager anticipation of what I was about to do.

"By the look in your eyes and your open mouth, I assume you approve of the tool you will be using regularly for dictation?" he smugly smiled, his cock an erect missile ready for launch.

"It is very impressive, indeed," I replied, resisting the temptation to reach for it and feel it's warmth. "I think I have the perfect thing for it," I added.

"What would that be?" he questioned.

"My mouth sir," I replied, eagerly.

"What about your cunt?" he questioned.



"That is available too," I smiled demurely, making it clear I was completely at his sexual disposal.

"And your ass?" he added. "Is your sweet ass at my disposal too?"

I hadn't been ass fucked in years, long before Alan's death, and although I didn't love it and it never got me off, the feeling of utter submission, giving your body freely and entirely to a man was exhilarating. Again, I responded as any obedient submissive would, "Yes, sir, my tight ass is at your disposal too."

A soft chuckle left his lips. "Let's start with those sexy cock-sucking lips."

Taking that as an order, I lifted myself up a bit, legs leaned forward and took his big thick cock in my mouth. I started slow, continually looking up at him, worshipping his cock. I used my tongue to swirl around his wide mushroom top before deep- throating his beautiful cock. His manly sweat, tangy and salty, only added fuel to the fire as I drowned in the aroma of a man. I was like a woman lost in a desert near death after being in the pounding heat for an eternity and finally seeing water; I was famished after my own eternity of thirst and I was going to fill myself up. 

His moans of approval also enhanced my desire to please and after a few minutes of steady slow burn teasing, I went for the sexual jugular. Using a technique I perfected after many years of swallowing load after load of Alan's addictive sweet stuff, I had him getting animated.



"That's it Amanda, keep sucking like a good little slut," he moaned.

I obeyed, creating a whirlpool of saliva in my mouth, a sensation I knew from experience usually led to a quick trigger from the man. 

"I'm going to come, my slut, swallow every last drop. Don't you dare waste any of my cum," he warned.

I bobbed up and down, back and forth like a porn star until he inevitable grunted; followed instantly by the splash of his cum hitting the back of my throat. I continued the furious pace as a second and third stream sprayed in my mouth. I swallowed every drop as expected and as I so desperately craved. I knew the moment his salty seed entered my mouth I was hooked and would, as I had already promised, do anything and everything he asked. Job or no job, I was his; if he would take me. 

I slowed down, but didn't stop, for a couple more minutes, as I felt his cock slowly shrink in my mouth.

Finally, he ordered, "Well, you passed the first test."

"Thank you, sir," I replied, still on my knees subserviently at his feet, looking forward to the second test.

"I need time to recover before we go to test two," he announced, before instructing me, "go crawl to the front of my desk and wait for further instructions."

Although slightly humiliated, by being treated like a dog, I obeyed, crawling around his desk and sitting, half naked on the floor. The humiliation though only seemed to enhance the awakening of my long dormant arousal.

A couple of minutes later, as my mind pondered the full breadth of the situation I had just agreed to, and the act I had just committed, I heard him on the phone. "Yes, add a second first class ticket for tomorrow's flight." 

I listened intently, was he booking me a ticket and if so where? Wasn't that a little presumptuous considering he hadn't officially hired me nor did he confirm my availability. Yet, in retrospect I had already confirmed my availability earlier in the interview.

My first question was answered by his next words. "Put the ticket under the name Amanda Winston."

Apparently I was going on a trip. Tomorrow. 

"Yes, have the car here to pick us up by four-thirty," he confirmed before hanging up.

A few more minutes ticked by as the only sound was the sound of his fingers pecking away at his keyboard. My pussy burned with anticipation that seemed a long time away as I sat obediently on the floor.

Finally, he spoke but not me. "Carolyn, please bring in the Elderton file."

"Of course, Mr. Jackson," the secretary relied over the intercom.

Suddenly, I was mortified. It was one thing to submit to a man, or even men potentially as was foreshadowed by his earlier admissions, but being seen on the floor in such a condition was utterly humiliating.

Time seemed to stand still as I waited for the humiliation that was about to follow. Although Alan would take me out in very revealing outfits, have me blow him under the table at a restaurant on a few occasions and even fucked me in the private balcony at Phantom of the Opera, where I was leaning over the balcony, all the patrons oblivious to the pounding I was taking, I had never been publicly humiliated like I was about to me (except the time we were in Florida on our honeymoon; after coming on my face in the car, he made me go into 7-11 with my face coated in cum and get him a Slurpee. That humiliation had me so hot, that as soon as we got to the hotel, I devoured him whole).

The inevitable finally happened when the very pretty, much younger than me and incredibly pregnant Carolyn came into the office. As she walked in, she looked down at me on the floor and smiled.

"I see she has passed the first test?" Carolyn said, casually like she was talking about the weather.

"Yes, she is a very good cocksucker, you could probably learn a thing or two from her," he replied, his tone flat.

The pregnant woman looked down at me with daggers even as I felt the thrill of his words. 

"Is there anything else, sir?" she asked.

"Not now," he said.

I watched her walk away and as she reached the door, she turned back to me one last time with a glare that told me we were not friends and she was threatened by me, which made me smile. I liked being a threat sexually. 



Another fifteen minutes went by as he sat at his computer, and he chatted briefly on the phone.

Finally, my cunt begging for attention, my mind having an eternity for me to replay the day and ponder if I should get up and leave before I fell deep into a web of sexual submission, he stood up and ordered, "Stand up, Amanda."

I stood eagerly, thankful to be off the floor and hopeful for a good fucking which I longed for. The thought of my long neglected pussy being spread open by his thick cock had me in a dizzy. 

"Bend over my desk, Amanda."

I again wordlessly obeyed, anticipation of being fucked from behind, my favorite submissive position. I was surprised by how cold the desk was and was thankful I was still kind of wearing clothing.

"You have been a very bad girl, Amanda," he said, his hand caressing my ass.

"Sorry sir," I replied coyly, "I don't know what got into me."

"Oh, I know what you want inside of you, but I am not sure you have earned that privilege," he said and before I had time to react I felt the cold hard smack of his hand meeting my ass. I let out a surprised yelp, not remotely expecting to be spanked.

Humiliation seared through me as my pussy instantly leaked at the firm hard slap. "Do you promise to obey at all times, Amanda?"

"Yes, sir," I quickly answered, trying to ignore the burn on my ass.

A second smack echoed through his office as his hand made contact with my other ass cheek. 

"I expect complete obedience, no questions ask, no hesitation at all, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," I replied, the burn on my ass a crazy mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Stand up and take off your blouse," he ordered, backing up a bit to watch me.

I turned around to face him. My hands trembled with what I assumed was perceived as nervousness, but truthfully was excitement; I had a growing lust and a desperation to please him unconditionally. 

I took my blouse off and tossed it on the floor, standing now in only my bra.

He surveyed my body in silence. "You have kept your body in great shape Amanda."

"Thank you," I replied, before explaining, "I work out every morning." Getting a compliment from a stern man like Mr. Jackson was the ultimate form of flattery and I couldn't help but feel a glow warm my cheeks.

"Keep it up, I expect my employees to stay in great shape," he instructed.

"Of course, sir," I agreed.

Content with my answer he ordered, "And now the bra."

I again obeyed; freeing my breasts and my body from the last piece of clothing that protected me from complete vulnerability. Releasing my breasts, which I always wished were a size bigger, always made me self-conscious. 

"Pose for me," he ordered.

Although awkward and unsure what to do, I put my hand behind my head while leaning on the desk. Suddenly I felt insecure about my body posing in such a vulnerable position.

As if sensing my insecurity, he complimented me, "Amanda, you really are a beautiful woman."

"Thank you," I blushed, suddenly relaxed and thrilled by a compliment from a man that I assumed didn't give such moments of flattery often.

"Ready for the test two of our interview?" he asked.

I considering making a joke about this only being test two after the blue job, the sitting on the floor, the spanking and standing in front of him butt naked, but I refrained. Instead, I replied, "I am here to fulfill whatever need you currently have."

He began pulling off his pants as he ordered, "Bend over the desk, Amanda."

"Yes, sir," I a bit too eagerly replied, quickly turning back to his desk and returning to my helpless, completely at his whim, bent over position. My nipples against the cold desk instantly perked stiff as diamonds. 

"You want me to fuck you, don't you?" he asked, as I felt his hands again on my ass.

There was no hesitation, no need to lie. "Yes, sir, I badly want you."

A quick slap on my ass. "Is that really the best you can do?" he asked, his tone implying disappointment.

Always being a people pleaser, I hated disappointing anyone. I quickly replied throwing out any last propriety I may have had left, "Yes sir, I am dying to feel that big thick cock of yours inside my hungry cunt."

"That's better," he said, his tone shifting instantly back to calm and in control.

I felt his cock head between my ass cheeks and briefly tightened instinctively thinking maybe he was considering fucking my ass. He noticed my slight tension and laughed, "We will save that for another day." 

I let out my breath realizing I had been holding it. I have taken a cock in my ass before, often when Alan was still alive, but Mr. Jackson's girth had me terrified of the pain that would come with a back door pounding.

"Fuck your cunt is soaking wet," he accurately announced. "You really are a hungry slut, aren't you?"

A finger slid deep in me and I moaned in agreement. "Yes, sir, I want to be your hungry eager slut."

He knew how to play a woman. His finger found my g-spot and he tapped it softly. "Of course, you understand that besides being my full-service secretary, you are also under my sexual supervision."

"Kkkkkk," I moaned, completely unaware of what I was agreeing to and at this moment willing to agree to any fucking thing.

"You are so compliant. Such a good little slut. From now on you will only come with my permission, is that clear?" he explained and asked, his finger driving me crazy.

I again agreed, reverting back completely to the sexual control I was under for so many years. A control I had long since craved to have taken away from me again. Only through complete submission had I ever found complete orgasmic bliss. "Yes, Master," I replied, so immersed in the sexual submission that I used the term I had only used with Alan. I immediately tensed realizing my slip of the tongue. 

He chuckled. A knowing chuckle. "Master, hey. You really are going to be a perfect replacement for that dumb bitch out there. She is hot indeed and a great fuck, but her lack of intelligence was a real hindrance in her training and her actual job. But you have been trained already, haven't you?"

A second finger slid into my cunt preparing me slowly for his width, and causing me to be completely distracted and utterly hanging on his every word. "Yes, my deceased husband trained me."

"Trained you to be what?" he asked.

I pondered the proper wording, yet answered as he wanted me, no expected me, too. "He trained me to be his sex slave."

"Mmmmmmm," he moaned. "And you want to be my sex slave do you?"

He pulled his amazing fingers out of my wanton cunt and I moaned out of frustration, but answered out of obedience, "Yes, sir, I want to be your sex slave, your slut."

"Sir, not Master," he asked, his tone playful, yet firm.

"Whatever you want me to call you, Sir, Master, Dom, Daddy," I replied covering my bases, plus adding my own kink with the word 'Daddy'.

"Daddy?" he chuckled, before asking, "Does Amanda have Daddy issues?"

I didn't answer at first, before adding, "I don't know. I just love older men who know how to please a woman."

"I am not that much older than you," he chuckled, before returning to his authoritative personality. "When we are alone it is Master and when in public sir," he clarified, his cock again poking my ass cheeks.



"Understood, Master, I am yours to use as you see fiiiiiiiiiit," I replied, giving myself completely and moaning loud as his wide cock slid inside my cunt in one hard forward thrust. 

My body quivered with euphoria as every feeling of sexual submission came flooding back with a rush. 

"Fuck, your cunt is tight for such a slut," he grunted, his cock lodged deep in me and not moving.

I whimpered, wanting him to fuck me hard and fast, wanting to appease him, "It's your cunt, Master."

"And you want to feel my cum coat your cunt walls?" he asked, beginning to slowly move in and out of me.

"Come wherever you want Master. Come in my cunt, on my ass, on my tits, on my face or l," I thought, adding another idea based on the thought that he had a foot fetish, "on my stocking-clad feet."

"Fuck, you are going to be a good slave," he grunted, I sensed him smiling. He was now thrusting into me hard and deep, his body colliding into mine with each forward thrust. 

My moans increased exponentially as the fucking became harder and more furious. Minutes flew by as he pounded away in me, my orgasm bubbling at the surface, desperate to explode, but waiting for permission.

My whimpers, moans and heavy breathing were echoing in the room, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold back. Finally, I begged, "May I come, Maaaaster?"

"My slut thinks she deserves to come?" he asked, not slowing down.

"I will do anything?" I moaned, my arms being held behind my back firmly.

"Anything?" he questioned.

"Yeeeeeees, anything," I moaned.

"I will allow your undeserving cunt to come if you submit to Bella for a day next weekend," he revealed.

His response was so out of nowhere; I didn't know how to respond. Bella had never been more than an acquaintance and had never even implied she was a dyke. Even through all my experiences as a submissive, I had never been with another woman. 

He laughed, clearly able to read me so well. "You have never been with a woman have you?"

"No, sir, I mean Master," I admitted.



"Well, that is going to change," he foreshadowed. "You will eat cunt for me, won't you slave?"

Although hard to fathom being with another woman, I was so hungry to obey, to please and to come I didn't care about the future consequences or expectations. I agreed, "Of course, Master, if it pleases you."

"So what will it be?" he asked, no longer fucking me hard, but leisurely moving in and out of my fiery cunt. 

Although the thought of submitting to Bella was shocking, suddenly I could envision it clearly and I was so far gone, so desperate to come, so eager to obey, that my answer revealed a new side of me. "Yes, Master, I will be Bella's slut for you." I added the 'for you' to highlight that I was doing it for him.

"You can come when I count down to one," he announced, resuming fucking me recklessly, my body instantly starting to quiver.

"Thank you, Master," I moaned, excitedly.

"Ten," he began, adding a firm warning and establishing a clear Domme-submissive relationship, "when you come on my cock you become my property."

"Yes, Master, own meeee," I agreed without hesitation as he let go off my arms and I grabbed the edge of the desk for support, my orgasm on the brink and knowing I would have to do everything in my power to resist the growing tide of pleasure rising inside me from crashing down before the countdown hits one.

"Nine," he said, pulling my hair roughly.  "Aaaaah," I screamed, surprised and turned on by the roughness.



"Eight, tell me what you are," he ordered.

"Your slut, your slave, your fuckatary," I declared, happy with my wit, thinking this was the longest countdown in the history of time.




"Stocking Tales": Office Submission



"Seven, six, five," he quickly counted down, as if reading my desperation and my struggle to hold off from coming prematurely.

"Four, I'm going to want to fuck your back door," he rhymed.

I let out a moan-laugh and agreed, even though I couldn't fathom how his thick cock would ever fit, "My ass is yours toooooo, Master."

"Three, don't you dare come yet, you fucking slut, don't you dare," he demanded.

Although I knew I shouldn't say such a thing, I mumbled, "I can't hold off much looooooonger."

"No backtalk, slut," he roared slapping my ass hard as punishment, before adding, "Two, who owns you?"

Almost hysterical now, I babbled, barely holding in the inevitable explosion. "You do, you do, you dooooo."

"One, my slut, so fucking close aren't you?" he teased, keeping me on the brink clearly reveling in the power he had over me.

"Soooooooooo close, Maaaaaaster," I moaned, using every ounce of my determination to resist coming before the words are said.

"Now, slut, come now, come for your Master, come like you have never came before!" he demanded, pounding me so hard the desk moved.

The word given, permission granted, the invisible barrier broken, the greatest orgasm of my life, greater than any from my late husband, exploded through every pore of my body, sending fireworks to every sensory nerve. I screamed loud enough for anyone on the floor to know exactly what was happening, "Fuuuuuuuuck, yeeeeeeeeeees, Maaaasaaaaster, thank yooooooou," I bellowed.

He held my hips tight, his cock lodged deep inside my pulsating cunt, trembling like a never-ending earthquake. I babbled like a high schooler having her first orgasm. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, fuck, fuck, oh, oh, god."

I don't know how long I lay there, but time stood still as it was one of those rare moments where pure sexual perfection had been achieved. 

Sadly, all great things need to end and my orgasm slowly simmered, and my new Master's perfect cock slipped out of me.

He ordered, "Sit on the desk."

My legs rubber, my body exhausted and my orgasm still coursing through me, I slowly stood up and hiked myself up onto his desk. 

"I think I will take you up on that foot idea," he smiled, his voice more playful than the rest of our encounter. 

Alan loved getting nylon-clad foot jobs, so I had become very flexible and coordinated with my feet. "Of course, Master," I obeyed, my pussy still having light quivers.

I put my stocking-clad feet on both sides of his thick fully erect, slightly shiny with my cum, cock and began slowly using one foot to rub up and down his cock. He moaned on contact; I continued the slow, smooth up and down stroking. I teased him at first, going slow, and using my toes to tease his big mushroom top. After a couple of minutes of the teasing, I added my second foot, my legs bent leaving my still leaking cunt spread wide open, I began moving my feet up and down, giving him a steady stocking foot job. 

After a couple more minutes of slow up and down foot stroking, he demanded, clearly enjoying the foot job, "Faster slut, foot fuck me faster."

I obeyed, moving my legs up and down as fast as I could. I watched his face and knew he had to be close.

I was right as he grabbed my feet and began foot-fucking my stocking-clad feet furiously. I wanted to touch my cunt, already thinking about multiple orgasms, but refrained since I didn`t have permission and instead watched him fuck my feet. After a couple of minutes, he grunted and sprayed his cum all over my nylon-covered toes. 

Once spent, he let go of my feet and ordered, `You are not going to waste my cum are you?"

Although the instructions were vague, I understood what was expected. I lifted my left foot up and retrieved his cum from my stocking-clad foot. Trying to be sexy, under the bizarre circumstances, I used my tongue and lips, taking my time. I replicated the retrieval on my right foot as my Master put away his beautiful fuck stick.

Finally, he said, all business again, ignoring my utter nakedness on his desk. "We are flying to Paris tomorrow. Pack for a three day trip."

Thrilled with the idea of going to a place I never have been, I asked, "What should I bring?"

"Bring business attire for the day, slut attire for the evening," he replied, buckling his pants, before adding, "and bring anal lube, lots and lots of anal lube."

"Yes, Master," I replied, still on his desk, both excited to be his fucktoy and petrified of that wide snake trying to sodomize me.

"Be here at nine so Carolyn can train you for your secretary role. Have your bags with you as we will leave directly from the office," he instructed, returning to his desk.

"Yes, Master," I agreed, already excited about the abundance of possibilities that lie ahead.

"Good," he said, "now get the fuck out of here. I got work to do."

Such bluntness felt like a slap in the face, but I got off the desk, got dressed, slipped back into my heels and began to leave, praying he was going to say something to me. Reward me with praise for my obedience.

At the door, he said, "Amanda."

"Yes, Master," I asked, turning around, excited to hear what he had to say.

He laughed. I suddenly felt self-conscious. He explained, with a smile, "You may want to fix your blouse before you leave."

I looked down and realized in my hurry to dress I had missed a button and the whole shirt was buttoned incorrectly. I looked like someone dishevelled after a good hard fucking, which I guess was exactly what I should have looked like after having just had a good hard fucking. I quickly fixed it and being playful asked, "Is this better?"

"Much," he smiled, before adding, "Let her hair down, Amanda."

"Yes, Master," I obeyed, excited that he wanted to see me in a different light.

He looked at me for a few seconds, before saying, "Amanda, be sure to get the contract from Carolyn. Read it and sign it before you leave."

"Yes, Master," I said, disappointed by the lack of acknowledgement of my look with my hair down..

"And Amanda, welcome to the firm," he smiled, adding, "you will be a welcome addition."

"Thank you," I replied, smiling, suddenly feeling important, looking into his hazel eyes and he looking into mine. 

The brief moment of intimacy ended, as he waved me away. "Now get the fuck out of here, before I want to fuck you again."

I almost said, 'fuck me again and again`, but refrained instead saying, "Good night, Master and thank you for the job opportunity."

"You are welcome, slave," he said, not looking up from his computer.

Being called slave had my cunt tingling again and I had to fight the urge to fall on my knees, crawl over to him and beg him to fuck me again. Instead, I walked out two hours from when I first arrived. Two hours and my life was forever changed. 

As I closed the door, I jumped as I was face to face with Bella who was chatting with Carolyn, both of them staring at me knowingly.

Bella smiled, moving towards me with the eyes of a predator, and said, "Welcome to the firm."

"Yes, and just so you know, Bella and I share everything." Carolyn added, her smile deliciously naughty, foreshadowed a lesbian threesome. 

THE END 

Again a special thanks to the beautiful Vanessa for posing for the pictures. Check out the comments section to learn where you can go to Vanessa's Literotica Amateur Pictures Feedback Forum and see more pictures of her and even leave comments.

Jasmine



Stocking Tops



Chapter 1

Mr and Mrs Peach were called for a urgent meeting with Headmaster but as Victoria Peach was home alone, Albert being on a Trade Mission to South Africa, she went unaccompanied to Tucker's College for Boys at Stitchbury. By the sympathetic look on the face of the woman ushering her into Headmaster's dark paneled study, Victoria stomach hurled to its pit.

Her instinct was confirmed when after the usual exchange of pleasantries, Headmaster Archibald Summer's red face turned purple and he announced gravely, "Peach is being expelled. Please leave with him."

"But it's only a week before School finishes for the year and he goes on to university. Can't he terminate then?"

"No."

"What is his transgression?"

Victoria knew Albert would expect her to put up a fight, as this was his old school, his father's before him and generations of Peach men before that. Tucker's was recognized throughout England and beyond for its delivery of traditional high-quality education in small classes.

Headmaster's face turned puce. He pulled a gold silk rope on the wall behind him, a bell clanged beyond the heavy oak door and his elderly assistant came in and stood at Headmaster's side.

"It is my duty to inform you Mrs Peach that early this morning your son was found in Simon Younger's bed. Both were wearing silk stockings."

"And that's all?" Victoria asked in relief, knowing that it was. Tucker's other reputation was First Choice Boarding School for the First Son of Prudish Parents. Being American, she's pleaded with Albert on the day Lee was born not to enroll their infant at stuffy Tucker's, But Albert had been unmovable, not even when she offered to dress up in the pink silk rabbit suit he'd purchased for her when they first became promiscuous in the third year of their courtship on the eve of their marriage.

She returned to the car. The chauffer Masters winked at Victoria and she felt her stomach flip as that was the signal confirming his wife had gone to stay the night with her mother in York. Curly blonde Lee was already in the Bentley with all his possessions, head bowed, and half a dozen of fellow 18-year-olds, his best mates or pals as Americans would say, stood back from the open window to obviously mentally undress Peach's mother, one of the reasons Victoria had loved coming to Tucker's on parents' days.

"Home Masters." The driver touched the peak of his cap and fired the motor of the veteran saloon that had been handed down from Albert's grandfather, as had the succession of drivers called Masters.

"Mummy, I apologize..."

"Cut that nonsense, I should have kicked that sick son-of-a-bitch under his fat paunch," said his mother, originally from Dallas. "You're off to your aunt in California on the first available flight – I have no wish for your father to murder you."

Lee began his long journey being deposited at the airport at 6:00 next morning wondering why Masters had his arm about his tearful mother and she accepted his handkerchief.

The Black Sheep of the Peach family of Langford Manor arrived at LA and was greeted by his mother's younger sister who immediately embarrassed Lee because she appeared to be wearing nothing, or rather very little. Little did she realize the state of his enforced sexual repression.

"Good God, a white shirt and striped cravat – what Planet are you from darling?" Marlene giggled. Lee only half hearing, gob smacked by the acreage of breast right in front of him, mistakenly thought she couldn't see him gaping at her breasts through her black lens sunglasses. His aunt pulled him into her, plastering his cheek with lipstick and then kissing him long and hard on the lips.

Fresh from the imprisonment of the English Public School system, overcome by perfume and the other smells of a woman, Lee staggered back half a step and mopped his cheek and mouth with his handkerchief.

Bemused, Marlene watched him look astonished at his unblemished handkerchief. "This sort of lip coating doesn't transfer darling."

The lack of evidence convinced him she was telling the truth. He was suspicious of her because he'd sometimes heard his mother on the phone call Aunt Marlene a lying bitch. And calling him darling and running her tongue over her top lip like that, did that mean...hastily he stepped up to his trolley to cover any embarrassment.

"My girlfriends are going to love you so much darling. God, just look at you – how tall are you?"

"Six-four and 184 lbs. I play on the side of the scrum at rugger."

"What's that dear?"

"Um, a little like Gridiron without the armor.

"What's that darling?"

"Um, I play high contact sport."

"Oh, you're a fitness freak. Let my feel your abs. Oh God."

Welcome to California, Lee thought. His mother had warned him most of the women there were bimbos and sex crazy and would look at him pitifully as if he did not understand what he was saying. He thought he knew what mummy had really meant – the women partied a lot and were lesbians. Hopefully his aunt partied and she wouldn't be a bimbo because her hair color was jet black with a strange green patch through it. Mildew?

"Let's go," she grinned, showing teeth like the babes do on toothpaste ads and in ads of women modeling stockings. He cringed knowing he already was thinking stockings when his mother had made him promise he wouldn't think of her sister wearing stockings. Or Aunt Marlene's young twins wearing stockings.

"How are the twins – and, er, Uncle Clancy?"

"Refer to him as Clan darling, Clancy is dated."

"He's dating other women?"

"Yes darling but I really meant the name Clancy reached its use-by date much too soon so we found it necessary to repackage Clancy as Clan, do some cosmetics on his face and..."

"Uncle Clan wears cosmetics?"

"Yes, and I rather fancy all men do darling though perhaps not in primeval England. I was meaning surgical enhancement. His nose was rather disproportionately large, the corners of his mouth had to be lifted."

Lee gaped at his aunt. "You mean his nose was cut to make it smaller and muscle tightened to pull up his mouth?"

"Something like that Lee. It's rather a bore to talk about it as it reminds one of the discomforts. But if you're that interested, shower with me sometime and I'll educate you about nip and tuck. Speaking about education, you're not a virgin, are you?"

Lee hung his head and muttered, "Practically."

Marlene shrieked with laughter. "Wait until I tell my girlfriends."

Lee's anguished face reached her heart. "All right, I'll not say anything until the moment is ripe."

"What moment is that?"

"I'm thinking darling. Ah yes, I know. My girlfriends will soon put on a party for my 32nd birthday. I'll try to convince you to allow me to put you up for auction as a charitable fun-raiser – probably the proceeds going to the Abandoned Children's Welfare Fund."

"Oh, I'd be all for that."

"Would you darling?" Marlene said, looking at him thoughtfully.

Unsure what this was all about, obviously an idea in gestation, Lee changed the subject. "You've referred to your girlfriends rather a lot as if your social scene revolves around them. Don't you and, er, Uncle Clan, regularly cohabitate?"

"You mean have sex?"

"No I don't," Lee blushed. "I mean don't you two live together a great deal."

"That means the same thing, doesn't it?"

"Only part of it, I should think. I mean instead of hanging out – I think that's the American term for it – instead of hanging out with the girls why don't you hang out with him?"

"Oh, gotcha. Well Lee we are rather high-fliers so the men are required to work long hours to provide the money to fuel our lifestyle and women like me are discouraged from working as it's considered unfashionable for women to work and an indictment on their husband or partner for failing to be in high enough salary bracket to support his family. It's a vicious circle, I'm telling you."

"So you hang out with like-minded women, become bored, can't eat because you are crazed to remain slender, the movies are crap so you yak all day when not engaged in lesbian activity?"

"Have you been to California before?"

"No," replied Lee in surprise.

"Then how is it you know so much about us?"

Unaware he was about to be verbally guillotined, Lee said, "I suppose that exhibits the value of being a product of the English Public School System."

Marlene's face lost its almost perpetual smile. "You big brat. You have no idea of our lifestyle or local culture except from what you've read in jerk-off magazines or dubious websites or see on TV or the big screen. So until you do and can speak with authority kindly keep your sneers and you toilet humor to yourself. Many women like me are desperately lonely and fill in our days the best way we can. And don't you dare smear us with the tag lesbians until you know what you're talking about. And even then don't use that word – we call it gay. If you must know we can be gay without being gay. You leered at my big boobs and immediately thought bimbo, didn't you?"

She paused to take breath so Lee jumped in to avoid being expelled from America. "Bimbos are blonde, aren't they? You have lovely dark hair and okay, I was almost blacked out when I happened to notice your breasts but I think they are wonderful and clearly establish you are so feminine. You are so beautiful Aunt Marlene. Please, don't be too tough on me. I have assumed the power of being a senior prefect at school and that has helped shaped me into becoming a man but I have so much to learn, particularly about women. I'm aware they don't think like men you know."

"Oh really?" Marlene responded as a tentative smile returned to her face. "You admire my breasts?"

"Oh God yes," her nephew said, his face turned on like an emergency beacon and at that Marlene clutched the side of his trolley for support.

"Let's stop in here for coffee," she gasped, turning the front of his trolley into the café.

With the new arrival chomping through a turkey sandwich while Marlene nibbled at her tiny plain biscuit she said: "What has Vicky taught you about sex?"

He looked blank. Marlene grinned and said she meant his mother Victoria.

"She lets me play with her stocking tops."

Marlene stared at her unembarrassed nephew and said carefully, "While wearing them?" 

He nodded.

Marlene's facial tone darkened a few tones and she said, huskily, "How long has she been doing that?"

"I can't remember when she didn't"

Marlene's hand clutched above her heavy breasts and that drew Lee's attention. In panic she thrust that hand down beside her and resumed breathing when she saw his gaze return to what remained of his sandwich.

"Why do they make a turkey sandwich so large and serve it with a knife, fork and napkin?"

"This is American darling. Tell me, all your life you say?"

"What about all my life?"

"Mummy's stockings?"

"Oh, that. I guess from the time I was a baby. Even today she doesn't kick me out of the room when she dresses or undresses and sometimes asks me to assist her."

Eyeing the gorgeous hunk of male sitting opposite her, Marlene breathed, "I bet."

So she was on to it and so soon, Marlene thought excitedly. When Vicky had called asking could she send Lee over for a few weeks she'd replied yes of course. She'd said she assumed Lee had grown quite a bit, as she'd not seen him for ten years. Then she asked had Lee finished school with honors and her sister broke down and said Lee had been found in another senior student's bed which was scarcely unacceptable practice at a single sex school but there had been outrage because both boys were wearing an item of female apparel. 

Marlene had giggled into near hysterics, unwinding her sister in the process and they had not returned to that particular topic. Marlene guessed Vicky had meant bras, but now the truth was out. Stockings. And ah, Vicky had stayed with her last summer and had observed that not many women wore stockings during the day and Marlene had replied, nor any underwear for that matter. That told her Lee was being sent to her in the hope Marlene and her environment could wean Lee off his fetish for women's underwear.

Well the fetish concerned stockings. It was unlikely Lee would be deprived because when Marlene and friends dressed up they usually all wore stockings and even the 12-year-old twins occasionally wore them.

Stockings, what a lovely fetish to have, Marlene smiled. She looked across and saw the last of the monster turkey sandwich being dispatched and half-wished she was wearing stockings.

"Your mom, exactly what do you to her stockings?"

"She loves me playing with them as it makes me gurgle, but it's the stocking tops I really find fascinating, especially lacy hold-ups but suspender held stockings are great and mummy looks so cool in stockings, and knows it."

"Yes, while she's rather under-developed at the chest it was those legs of hers that wowed your father when they first met."

"Really, I didn't know that."

"Lee?" Marlene had to clear her throat before she could continue. "Lee, what else do you like doing for your mom?"

"Licking her stocking tops. It drives her crazy."

"I bet, I can picture her," Marlene wheezed.

Lee yawned so she said she'd better get him home to bed. She pretended she'd not just said that.

"I think you need to know I only lick mummy's stocking tops, nothing else. She is my mother."

"Oh good boy," Marlene said, not sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. As they walked to the exit Marlene wondered about the need to update and upgrade her stockings drawer. Just in case Lee became homesick. Oh, right.

The Californian sun beat down on them as Lee stood gawking at Marlene's beach-buggy style RUV, she noticing the jerk was almost drooling over it, more in danger of dribbling than when first inspected her front-end. 

"It's so open, so cool," he wheezed. "Mom said you drove a rebuilt classic Ford Thunderbird – white with a bright red interior."

"Oh, that's my town car."

"Two surfboards," Lee said in awe, leaving his hostess wondering if he'd be that rocked back on his heels if she ever decided to show him her areolas or was it areolae?

"I don't think they've been used in the three years I've had the vehicle. I swim in pools not at the yucky beaches with little protection from the sun and sand worming between one's toes and into one's..." She stopped, confused.

"Crevices?"

"Ah yes. Thank you."

"We studied anatomy, one of my favorite topics, especially the female form," he said, his eyes sweeping over her.

"Should we go?" she said weakly. He seated himself behind the wheel and was beginning to shift over to the passenger seat when Marlene tossed him the keys. Although he didn't appear to be looking he caught them within a foot of her hand. Her legs began to buckle.

He said a little nervously, "We drive on the other side of the road."

"I know. Just look at other vehicles and follow them. I'll instruct you as necessary."

Lee digested that and said, "Aunt Marlene..."

"For goodness sake, Lee. Call me Marlene. I'm not your grandmother."

"Er, yes Marlene. What a sweet name." 

Marlene picked up a street map from her door pocket and waved it across her face.

"I was thinking, Marlene, you would make a wonderful instructress as you are so laid-back, your voice is honey smooth and your diction incredibly clear. Mommy said you would be a wonderful role model for me."

"Oh yes, Marlene said, eyes narrowing. "A role model and instructress for what?"

"Like keeping an eye on my driving and giving me a few pointers."

"Oh yes, of course. Take her away my incredibly appealing student. Er, are you fit to drive. It's been a long journey for you..."

"Don't worry, I'm fit and we have a three hour stopover at O'Hara and anyway mummy arranged for me to travel business class as she is a frequent flyer so I had more sleep than usual."

"No alcohol?"

"No alcohol – I'm still operating under school rules."

After giving driving directions Marlene asked, "Did any of the flight attendants take an interest in you?"

"Yes, four actually but one was a guy whom I thought could be gay so I burnt him off."

"And the women?"

"Very nice actually. Like friendly. One who lives here in LA has invited me to call her. I thought that was rather nice of her."

Marlene said yes it was and asked if he would visit her.

"Why, I've got you?"

"Oh you sweet boy," Marlene smiled. "Now we are leaving the airport we had better concentrate on your driving. Beware of pretty girl's waving and California girls are rather friendly."

"Hookers?"

"You know about hookers?"

"Only what mum told me."

That really interested Marlene. She asked what he'd been told.

"She said they are a dime a dozen and it would be difficult for me to tell who was and who wasn't as not all of them dress and act like sluts like our prostitutes. She advised me to stick with you and befriend your friends as some of them would have younger sisters my age."

"Vicky said 'Stick with me'. What do you think she meant by that?"

"Remain within your orbit of influence and consult carefully I would imagine. What else would she mean?"

"Vicky was such a tricky bitch when we were growing up, forever teasing me because I was the youngest. But I know she loves me. Perhaps she'd hoping I can teach you about sex."

"That's nice, the thought of you grooming me and then seducing me to show me your range of techniques and tricks."

"Oh God, don't even think that Lee. Sex with your aunt is incest, at least I presume it is."

"Are you sure? As our tutors at school would say, 'Never take anything you think for granted."

"Well, this State has laws prohibiting so many things I think there will be one to protect an aunt from her nephew seeking sexual experience and if not there I know sexual contact between those closely related individuals violates socio-cultural or religious norms."

Lee sniffed and told his aunt he could get by on her discoursing on intercourse but should she ever feel like lowering the drawbridge just let him know. He'd keep it their secret."

"Exactly what do they teach you at Public School?" she asked, aghast. 

"Plenty but as seniors we have been taught to be intellectually inventive and be adventurous although not without commonsense caution in going where we have not been before. Specifically in relation to sexual intercourse, we learned we should avoid physically learning for our mothers and sisters and grandmothers but anyone else was fair game. Also we should not hasten along our learning curve but to take time to smell the daisies."

"The daisies? We you being encouraged to have sex with flower pots?" Marlene giggled.

"I don't think that phrase was meant to be taken literally," Lee said a little stiffly.

Marlene was beginning to feel horny and then she saw their exit flash by. "Sorry, I missed the turnoff. There's another one about four miles from here."

"Roger. I guess this talk about sex is pulsating your mind a bit?"

"I'm fine," Marlene lied, switching the on the air conditioning and directing the flow to their feet and then spread her knees to allow the conditioned air access to cool her a little farther up. She couldn't believe the kid was almost getting her off without touching her. She knew her breasts were swelling and the nipples...

"We are seeing some really neat cars."

Huh? Oh the cars passing them? She looked up just as blonde bimbo passenger in a passing open convertible eyed him and formed her lips into a big 'O' undetected by the driver who was probably the teenager's mother.

Two cops in a cruiser went by, lights flashing but no siren and pulled in behind the teenager's speeding mom, but not before Marlene saw the female cop in the passenger seat give Lee a huge and slow wink. Oh no, Marlene groaned, thinking she ought to lecture Lee urgently that once he got into the swing of things he ought to work up slowly otherwise his testicles would scream out in pain and leave him out of action for a while.




Stocking Tops Pt. 02



Chapter 1

Returning to England with Victoria Peach, Lee thought his mother was becoming so disgusting. Twice he'd come across Victoria in bed with her sister Marlene and brother Clan (Clancy), all of them nude, sweating and red-faced, attempting to roll back under the sheet undetected and begin to idly chat about the weather. He'd also became aware as soon as the twins had caught the school bus the two women returned and disappeared into the master bedroom, locking the door.

Lee was quite relieved to be heading home, because the neighbours Chrome and her mother were banging away with him at least every other day, never together, and leaving him rather drained. They'd also stopped wearing stockings when with him, claiming his penchant for licking stocking tops was allowing them to come off the boil before they received his full attention. In both saying that it was obvious they had intimate discussions about him.

Victoria awoke from a brief nap and automatically pulled Lee's hands between her legs.

"Play with me," she whispered.

"Lee could smell pussy so guessed she'd boarded without panties. Because it was a night flight and they were in business class he could comfortably lick the flesh about her stocking tops, which she'd been accustomed to him doing for as long as he could remember. This time, however, although she squirmed and panted a little, she failed to achieve orgasm. She busied around folding his and her blankets, working them under her putt and added his and her pillows so she now really presented herself to him.

"Tongue my pussy."

Lee was not used to her commanding him like this. He thought obviously sex games in Los Angeles with his brother and sister had raised the bar for her. He disappointed her by saying no, he could not do that because while it was accepted behaviour within some circles for mothers to be unrestricted when teaching their children about sex he was now an adult and believed he could not sink into incestuous behaviour by penetrating her pussy.

"Oh well," she sighed. "Let me know when you change your mind." She then settled and went to sleep.

Victoria awoke an hour later and was restless. She shook her son awake to lick her stocking tops while she worked her fingers until achieving release and then thanked Lee with a sweet kiss and delivered several endearments into his ear and then fluttered her tongue around that ear hole, leaving her amused son wondering whether he should continue to call her darling mother or change to call her darling whore.

His father met them at the airport, greeted his almost estranged son back home and smiled, one arm cupped around to his wife's left breast and said, "I have been in conference with Headmaster, first to threaten legal action if you weren't issued with your leaving certificate and awards as you were entitled to on graduation had you not been expelled. I then held out a cheque made out to Headmaster's Fund which he read before I demanded the record of you being expelled should stand but the reason for it being noted simply as 'misbehaviour' and every other record referring to you being found in bed with that other senior student, both wearing stockings, be expunged. He wavered so I increased the donation from two thousand pounds to five thousand pounds and the slimy frog capitulated."

"Thank you pater, I mean dad."

"Accepted my son. I now require you to work in one of my companies under a responsible chief executive who will keep an eye on you, Mrs Islington-Scott, informally called by my directors who know her as 'Ball-breaker".

"Oh no Albert, not with Martha Islington-Scott," Victoria winced. "She rules with an iron glove."

Albert grinned and said hadn't he made a remarkably intelligent decision. "Lee sit with Mrs James, I have some business matters to talk over with your mother.

Lee sat in the front with the chauffeur. He'd chatted to the 30-year-old Mrs James as she stowed the luggage and mentioned she had lovely legs and he was a fan of stocking tops. She smiled without comment but when Mrs James pulled up her skirt as she got behind the wheel she pulled it level with her hips and whispered: "You will go far, young man. My husband rarely displays and interest in what I wear."

They were seated too far apart to touch but Lee still thought it was a lovely welcome back on to English soil.

Mrs James had ninety minutes to kill before she was to take Albert and Victoria Peach and Albert's CEO and wife to Manchester for British trade and industry presentation of awards at dinner that evening. Standing at his bedroom window Lee watched her walk into his mother's rose garden and sit in the small pavilion. The pavilion was not in site from the first level of the house. He called the kitchen and asked the assistant to prepare a pot of coffee to two and butter two scones, knowing cook made scones after serving breakfast every morning, whether the family was in residence of not.

Lee arrived at the pavilion and watched Mrs James' eyes widen with delight at the smell of fresh coffee and the sight of still warm scones dripping with butter.

"I suppose this service is to induce me to show you my stocking tops," she smiled, although her lips remained rather compressed, cautioning Lee against saying a confident yes.

"The thought had not entered my mind," he said casually and caught the flash of white teeth as a smile pulled her lips apart.

"Do you ever see your mummy's stocking tops?" she asked as if almost in jest and dropped the scone she was being offered back on to the plate in shock when told, "Almost every day, sometimes twice a day."

After retrieving the half of scone in slightly trembling fingers she searched his face looking for the truth and appeared satisfied. "I've long known males like you exist but they have eluded me."

"Eluded?"

"Absolutely. I get more than a flutter when seeing a man admiring my body."

"What, a really good orgasm?"

Mrs James's face coloured a beautiful pink. "You know a great deal for someone who's only recently left boarding school."

"I learn about things that interest me. I even believe you'll allow me to lick your stocking tops."

Although Mrs James's breasts appeared rather small, Lee watched her chest suddenly indicate a higher breathing rate, pulling her partway to producing orgasms if she would permit that. He knew if she decided no way would she allow him to touch her then that was it. However, if he manfully carried her along verbally in all probability she'd submit. She had to be stroked and plucked like a guitar. It was a tough call but he thought his skill level was incrementally increasing each time he sexually confronted a female. 

Several females other than his mother had told Lee he was unbelievably good for a young guy as most men had difficulty in displaying charm and sensitivity when fondling women. Although Mrs James had flashed her thighs at him in the car at the airport and now knew he had a thing about stockings, there remained a bridge to be crossed before he'd be allowed to touch her. Basically it meant over-riding her restraints by dominating her mind with the thoughts that he'd be appreciative and they would feel mutually rewarded.

He though she might react best to a full-on approach. "Mrs James I'd find it pleasurable if you were to guide my hands on to your thighs, knowing that my touch would warm you to the core. There is no need to pull up your skirt, unless you want to see my naïve reaction. You will have younger and smoother thighs that my mother. What a wonderful way to start our day."

"You are sick, weird but wonderful," Mrs James laughed. "I'll sit on the table. Lick anything you find but that's all. I have no wish to be found in a compromising situation. I believe I'll see anyone approaching through the gaps in the shrubbery before they turn the corner and come into direct view."

Lee felt like sucking her toes but she was wearing lace-up mid-calf boots. Another time perhaps. Her thighs were rather plump to really appeal but the bulge of white flesh over the stocking tops got him worked enough to begin a dribble-coated lick from the side of her knee and upwards to that exposed flesh. She worked her hands into his hair and moved them, indicating she was pleased at his performance. Lee beavered away, not really going anywhere once he'd reached the pad of flesh and felt it heating up. Her pussy odour increased and her heavier breathing had become noticeable. Suddenly she convulsed and pushed his away.

"Get away from me you filthy boy," she snapped.

Lee turned and walked away, feeling the rejection because it rarely happened once he had his hands by consent on silky thighs. He didn't look back although she was now whining, "I'm sorry, please come back...PLEASE!"

Lee was smart enough to know he hadn't really been rejected. Mrs James had messed her pants and simply had reacted badly, blaming herself for messing around with a kid and feeling she'd branded herself a slut. At the branch on the pathway he turned left and walked to the kitchen. He found Mrs Anthony the cook reading a woman's magazine.

"Good morning Lee, how was America? I heard you were due home with Mrs Peach this morning."

"Hi Mrs Anthony. Want to fuck?"

"Lee! Good gracious young man. That is the worst possible way to win a rejection. What is wrong with you?"

"I suddenly feel horny."

"Ah, those flight attendants bending over the seats ahead of you eh? Well, you are young so enjoy it while its lasts. Within a could of years you won't take much notice of women as they work."

"Please Mrs Anthony." 

"Ah, that's better."

"Mrs Anthony, you were the first pussy I ever entered and you always said if I want..."

"Oh all right. It seems you are in a hurry to get a shot away," she said, leading him into the pantry and looking the door before dropping her trousers and pulling down her briefs. She lent over the tiny table and turned and grinned as she heard Lee open his zip.

"Oooh," she said fingering herself. "Careful now and think about giving me satisfaction as well otherwise I may just as well cut a hole in a juicy steak for you to pound into."

A few minutes later the 43-year-old stood up red-faced and puffing. "That was excellent – I do believe those American women have taught you a thing or two."

"That you Mrs..."

"Come on, you're a young man now. Call me Jill even in front of your parents. Your mother probably suspects we do it anyway."

When they returned to the kitchen Lee made them coffee and sat chatting, neither of them mentioning what had just happened because there was no need. Jill was one of those women who believed she was put on Earth to be banged and Lee knew she could see he was grateful as he was now completely relaxed and being so nice to her.

After Lee's parents left for in the limo for Manchester Lee called a local periodic companion. He thought he'd take her to a movie and find out what was happening within the local sect of mutual friends – apart from sex and drinking binges.

The call was answered.

"Hi, Cindy. How are your stockings?"

"Straight and not laddered I would hope."

"Like to do a movie, chat over dinner and perhaps ball?"

"That sounds lovely so who's speaking?"

"It's Lee, you idiot. Are your tight thighs squeezing your ability to recognize my voice?"

"Lee Peach, Victoria's son?"

A chill ran through Lee's heart at he realized he'd blown it. It was Cindy's mother, not Cindy who'd answered the phone. Cindy would never ask was he Victoria Peach's son.

"Er, Mrs Kibby-Johnson?"

"Yes Lee, how intelligent it was of you to deduce I'm not my daughter."

"Mrs Kibby-Johnson please accept my apologies for talking so openly with you like that?"

"Exactly what atrocities have you performed on my youngest daughter Lee?"

"Er, she wears beautiful stay-up stockings, we sometimes go out to dinner together and er, by balling, that is er, a colloquialism for er, dancing."

"Cindy has gone overnight with her father to visit her paternal grandparents."

"Oh, that's fine Mrs Kibby-Johnson. Good afternoon."

"Don't you dare cut this call young man. I am home alone and would very much like to substitute for my daughter to be taken to a movie, to dine somewhere discreet and to be balled by you. If you say no I could complain to your mother and certainly to Cindy but I must confess that bitchiness doesn't sit well with me. So you have the choice of thumbing your nose at me at me or alternatively acting as a gentlemen by coming to my home at 7:00 for a drink before you take me to a movie."

Lee, who'd never met Cindy's mother guessed she'd be couth and probably quite good looking for an older woman because Cindy, who was eighteen, was a beauty with a lovely body including sensational legs. He swallowed and decided to take the plunge.

"I shall call at 7:00 Mrs Kibby-Johnson. My mother has told me a thousand times to be polite to women who are charming and non-threatening. Good afternoon."

* * *

Lee pushed the door button to the Kibby-Johnston's home on the dot of 7:00, knowing the home although substantial was not large enough to accommodate live-in household help so expected madam herself to answer the door. The husband could afford the impeccable house in a premium location because he was senior partner in a law firm.

Madam did indeed open the door and Lee's heart missed a beat. She was tall, probably just short of forty, beautifully coiffured and perfumed, a wide face with a wide and generously-lipped mouth and a bust that almost took his breath away. A quick look down produced a disappointment because she was not wearing stockings.

"Well, well – we meet at last, she purred," taking his arm and almost pulling him into the hallway. Mrs Kibby-Johnson's grip changed to his hand and she led up the stairs.

"As I expect you to be doing indescribable things to me this evening, please call me Harriett."

Lee swallowed as his mind tried to picture what she would rate as being indescribable.

"Certainly," he gulped, imagining plunging down the canyon otherwise called her throat and his hands held straight down and loaded with the heavy mass of her breasts, rubbery nipples worming around against his palms desperate for attention. His entire body shook and he felt giddy as blood rushed to his lower extremities.

They entered the master bedroom as then into her dressing room that was the size of the average person's bedroom, not that Lee knew many people who are 'average'.

"I'm ready to go apart from the pièce de résistance."

Lee looked at her blankly. If they were ready to go why haven't they left when they met at the front door? Oh, perhaps she wanted to put on her knickers?

Harriett pulled up her skirt and he blinked, not at the fact that she wasn't wearing knickers but the size of her blonde thicket. In his limited (very limited) experience natural blondes were usually far less hairy than non-blondes. Still, it had a distinctive centre-line part so that was something.

"My stockings – you choose," she said, pinging one of her elastic suspender straps in mild embarrassment or mild stress.

Ah, the penny dropped and Lee expertly appraised the twelve packs of stockings lined along the ironing board. Harriet was pressed up alongside him and he knew she was watching for reaction. He slowly licked his lip and distinctly heard her sigh and tremor. He allowed the excitement build for both of them now that she'd confirmed by her intense interest that she shared a stocking fetish. Twice he picked up a packet but replaced it when not detecting a reaction.

Lee then picked up the pair he'd already selected when first glancing at the line-up and began hardening against his briefs at the thought of watching Harriett putting them on, that is if she'd allowed that. As his hands touched that pack he heard Harriett's deep draw of breath and smiled, knowing she'd already decided to put on a one-man show and he knew he was the lucky guy. He handed her the pack and said without reading the over-printing, "French-made 15 denier, low cut with silver seam, pointed heel. Superb."

She held them over her rounded belly – well, what else could a guy expect? he mused. She'd had two kids and would socialize a great deal and probably engaged in little physical activity beyond the bedroom. 

She drew a hand across both nipples and said, "I'd love you to sit and watch me put them on."

"I bet," he grinned. "Mind if I unzip?"

She appeared astonished that one so young would think of such a thing let alone brazenly ask for consent She licked her top lip and said of course she wouldn't mind, in fact she'd be flattered?

"Splattered? Then you'll have to stand closer," he grinned. She didn't pretend to be shocked and said nothing, just flashing him a smile to communicate he was pleasing her.

Lee raced to unzip to release pressure, aware that this was his first encounter with a woman whose focus on the sexuality of stockings was at least as intent as his interest. As she looked up after removing the three stockings from the pack, her eyes widened when she noticed the amount protruding beyond his cupped hand. She returned the spare stocking to the pack and sat on her stool at the dresser and faced him and lifted a leg presumably unaware she was displaying a damp spot on her abundant display of blonde hair. Moving with the great deliberation of a woman teasing to the max, Harriet slowly drew on both stockings, clipping on the six clips, standing and adjusting the tension of the straps, her eyes more on what Lee was doing than feasting on the non-stretch nylon encasing her still rather nice legs and enhancing them.

She pulled up her skirt level with her hips and Lee nodded warmly and began stuffing his erection away.

"Don't hurt yourself."

He grinned and she replied with a gorgeous smile. At that point he knew that although Cindy was a greater charmer she was outshone by her mother who just oozed with sexiness.

"My breasts, you are displaying no interest in them?" she asked as they walked from the bedroom and she took his arm.

"Breasts are okay and yours look great but my interests lies elsewhere."

"Sockings?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Stocking tops actually," he corrected and felt the surge of excitement leaping through her in a transfer of energy between their arms.

To be continued



Stocking Tops Pt. 03



Harriett decided she didn't want to go to the movies and directed the cab driver to take them to a hotel.

"I'm booking us in here for the night if that is acceptable to you," she said.

"I-I haven't..."

"Haven't enough money for a luxury hotel like this?" Harriett smiled. "Of course not -- you've only recently left school and are -- just how old are you?"

"I turned nineteen three weeks ago."

"Oh my, I'm really cradle-snatching. You do know about sex I hope?"

"Yes of course. How old are you?"

Harriett smiled, said she'd turn forty later in the year and told him to wait and pretend to be guarding luggage. When he raised an eyebrow about the reference to luggage, she said it was not the type of hotel that let rooms to people not bone-fide travellers. Lee leaned against a luggage trolley just inside the entrance and when Harriett turned at reception and pointed in that direction when talking to the check-in receptionist he waved and the smiling receptionist showed him great teeth.

In the room Harriett said she'd asked reception to send up their luggage in half and hour so if someone called and said they couldn't locate his and his mother's luggage Sebastian must say a porter had already brought their luggage to the room.

"I'm Sebastian, your son? Non-existent luggage arriving in the room? Have you done this before?"

"I occasionally meet a male acquaintance for an overnight stay here," she blushed. "Mostly they are my husband's junior partners who are keen to be first-in-line when the next senior position is offered. I understand my husband's first wife also benefited by this process. I sit on the selection panel for all appointments and report on personal attributes."

"Ah, so you also help in the section of junior partners?"

"Well, since you've asked, yes. But I assure you the minimum age for junior partner is twenty-eight so you will be the youngest guy I've had in my bed for more than twenty years."

"Ah, so not all of these adulterous dalliances are with males?"

"Well, since you've asked, no," Harriett said, blushing again. "We only have three female partners but if the thought of me being warm and cuddly to other women sickens you, I invite you to vacate this room now."

Instead of answering vocally, Lee stepped up confidently to Harriett and holding her shoulder with his right hand pushed his other hand under her skirt and scooped his middle finger into her slit and straightened sucked that finger, staring at her and then repeated the dip but this time offered the finger for Harriet to suck. She did so without hesitation and then asked, "What was that about?" 

Lee smiled and said according to his young American aunt it symbolised that a man was committing to the taste of a woman and that the woman had committed to tasting herself on that man.

"That stretches credibility but I'm prepared to acknowledge it does create appropriate symbolism. It also tells me you lick pussy -- some males can't even stand the thought of going down on it."

Lee said he had already learned to be patient, considerate and concentrate on what the woman he was with wanted. "My mother has schooled me into accepting it's not about me, and that if I choose women carefully I'll receive my reward as they will not selfishly focus on themselves."

"Do you connect carnally with your mother?"

"She often urges me to lick or finger but so far has not attempted to pull me into her although she's moaned to me to make it happen. I just think it would be best for our long-term relationship that I don't penetrate her pussy in any manner. We both extract wonderful pleasure in our shared stockings culture."

Harriett groaned and flopped on to the sofa. "Lick me for as long as you like my darling and then fuck me stupid and then we'll go down to dinner.

After Harriett drained him again just after dawn, Lee made her coffee, showered and kissed her goodbye.

"It was a beautiful encounter Harriett." He then told her he'd never met a woman who'd matched his interest in stockings and would always remember her for that. She cried softly and wiped her tears down his face, a touching gesture and he imagined she regarded that as some sort of symbolism, possibly thinking she and he had become spiritually bound in some manner in which he had no understanding. He'd been intimately involved for so long with his mother and more recently with his aunt to know that the thoughts of some women went beyond depths that his thoughts ever ventured.

* * *

Returning home Lee went to his father's study to collect a copy of the last annual report of Peach Group Consolidated Holdings plc where he found Mrs Martha Islington-Scott was listed as managing director of the textiles division comprising clothing, embroidery, knitting, yarn manufacture, woven fabric manufacture, dyeing and finishing. He groaned knowing his father was out to make him suffer being expelled from Tuckers' College for Boys that had prepared Peach men for life for several generations. The only satisfaction he had was he could continue living a home because the head office of Peach Textiles Group plc was based in London.

Perhaps if he did well he'd win his father's forgiveness and be sent to a more appealing division such as electronics, motor vehicle distribution or marina operations. The more Lee studied the report the more he could see it appeared to be an incestuous division, with Martha's daughter being director of operations and a granddaughter Paula being general manager of a company called High Street Fashion. The photograph of the three was an eye-opener. Grandma appeared to be into her sixties, with flat tits drooped towards her naval, daughter Charlene had a mean mouth and one tit obviously much larger than the other while Paula looked quite okay actually. It wasn't a good photograph, taken at a crowded cocktail party and the intake of excessive alcohol probably had removed any appearance of intelligence from their faces and their dress sense was abysmal.

Islington-Scott? Lee rolled the name over his tongue three times trying to remember where he'd heard it before. Suddenly there was a click: he hadn't heard it mentioned, he'd read it. He went to his mother's bedroom (his parents slept apart but there was a connecting door) and ratted through her dresser looking for her family Bible. He guessed there was about fifteen hundred pounds in money spread around the drawer -- dropped when she cleaned out handbags -- plus (he counted) thirty-three condoms and he grinned, muttering, naughty girl mummy. He found the Bible and lifted it from its box and inside the back cover was his mother's family tree. And there it was: her great-grandmother Helen Scott married Harold Islington and their son was named Trent Islington-Scott and his elder son married Martha Owens. So it would appear her daughter Charlene had not married and had an illegitimate daughter she called Paula and gave her the family name. Well, that's how he figured it otherwise how could Charlene retained her maiden name? Oh yeah, divorced before Paula's birth and returned to her maiden name. His grandfather probably felt sorry for the family and brought grandmother Martha into the family business.

Lee spent the next hour going through his mother's collection of stockings that he found far more interesting than family trees, money and condoms.

He was half asleep on the bed, his erection in his hand when his mother walked in, returning from Manchester. "Oh darling, I'll fix that for you," she said brightly, rushing to lock both doors before returning to him before he had time to put it away. She began sucking while removing one of her stockings. Lee had the thought she'd not extract much of a shot but was wrong, because when he was almost ready to fire she wrapped the nylon around it and cooed -- come big for mummy darling. She came up, smiling, the sides of her mouth dripping and looking very happy. She eased back beside him and fingered herself to satisfaction as they chatted. Lee decided not to moan about being given a rotten job working for Martha.

On Sunday evening Victoria gave Lee a real treat, wearing a pair of real silk stockings. He began by sucking both feet, each time bringing her to orgasms and once up to the insides of her knees, soaked the silk in saliva and he played with her swelling breasts. By the time his tongue went over the stocking tops to make contact with her fleshy thigh pad she was panting and bounding on her ass and drowned her scream by biting her arm as she creamed between her thighs into a puddle.

"Lick it," she commanded. In a good mood, Lee lapped it noisily while she fingered herself into another release. She pulled him up -- he had to assist of course -- and she began cleaning his face with her tongue and when she was finished he dribbled the store of her final secretion from her mouth into hers. He moved right up and reaching down into her groin lubricated between her breasts and finished with a great titty fuck, which was rare for them. She insisted he stay with her all night and a couple of hours later he heard his father arrive home from his club where he would have been with a couple of his male friends doing the unspeakable, rather like mother and son.

After breakfast sitting with his mother while his father made business calls in his study, Lee told his mother how much he'd enjoyed last night.

"She laughed and said she marvelled that he'd been able to resist shafting her. "You mind is as strong as steel darling," she said fondly.

The noises from the study indicated his father was on the move. "I transferred twenty-thousand pounds into your bank account yesterday," he mother said. "Your father agreed with me that you've become a young man so deserve a decent birthday present for your 19th."

"That's unbelievably generous," Lee said. "How can I reward you?"

"I'll think of something," she smirked.

On-call chauffeur Mrs James drove them to Peach Textiles where she waited for Mr Peach to introduce Lee to Martha before heading off to a meeting in The City.

"Good morning Martha, what does my boy Lee call you?"

"Mrs..."

"No Martha."

"In that case Martha is fine."

"Excellent. Say hello Martha Lee."

"Good morning Martha. This is a big opportunity for me so thank you for volunteering to take me on."

Martha looked at him coldly and said she welcomed him to the operation and said he was expected to do well.

"Martha, I want you to push Lee to complete an on-line business administration degree with all the time off necessary to attend any block tuition courses without salary deduction. I want you to give him a proper title and fix his salary at intermediate manager level, the lowest rung, and thereafter reward him on effort. You are free to dismiss him at any time but I would expect you to justify such action to me. That is all. Any questions?"

"No thank you Arthur. Have a rewarding day."

To Lee's astonishment his father put out his hand to be shaken. "You are assigned to Martha as she's my best operator. Succeed under her tutelage and you'll be in the race to takeover from me eventually."

Lee shook his father's hand and mumbled he'd try not to disappoint.

As Arthur left the office Martha said grimly, "Now that charade is over I have you under my thumb, young man. Demonstrate progress and I'll reward it and the opposite shall also apply."

"I wouldn't want it any other way Mrs Islington-Scott."

She looked at him sharply. "What happened to Martha?"

Lee looked down and said he thought the invitation to address her as Martha was pre-empted by his father and historically she would feel beholden to his father.

Martha breathed out and said 'Oh my' loud enough for Lee to hear.

"You appear gifted with your father's cut-and-thrust mind and your mother's grace and intelligence."

"Possibly."

"You are not surprised I know then that intimately."

"No, you are related to my mother through the Scott's line."

"They told you that?"

"No, when I was told by my father I was to be dumped on you the name Islington-Scott was mentioned and I had a vague memory of the name Scott and found the reference to it in my mother's family tree."

"What did she say when you told her?"

"I saw no reason to mention it. My father has placed me here because he wants me to fail -- I have no interest in what you do here. A decent sponsoring father would have placed me in the motor-vehicle or marina divisions where my interests lie."

Martha's lips slackened. "Do I deduce you don't like your father?"

Lee shrugged and said: "He's a stranger in my life. Please just leave it at that."

Martha smiled and said she'd ensure he would lift himself in the world of business. They spent the best part of an hour talking about her business division while she probed to discover the extent of his knowledge and interest in what they did. At the end of the mild interrogation she sighed, "Well, being so close to your mother I'm not surprised you have more than a passing knowledge about women's clothing. You are aware that my daughter and granddaughter work for me?"

"Yes but only through reading. Family patronage appears to have done no harm?"

Martha's eyes hooded and her thin mouth tightened. "What do you mean by that?"

"The promotion of daughter and granddaughter to senior positions within the division appear to have dovetailed well. The bottom line of this division is second only to the financial services division in the entire group."

An eyebrow over a watery red-lined pale blue eye lifted high.

"Yes, I know how to read financial reports," Lee grinned. "I pass through a great school of learning and only faltered on the final lap by falling asleep before I returned to me own bed."

Martha looked rather impressed. "You know I would have been told about 'the incident."

"Oh yes, my father feels betrayed and wants me to suffer. But rest assured I'm not homosexual. I anticipated my father would have told you that and suggested he suspects I have an unusual relationship with my mother."

Martha smiled and said he'd appeared to have briefed her rather well.

"I love my mother but have avoided being consumed by her."

Martha looked at Lee intently and he knew that was a time to keep his mouth shut and to hold her gaze. She was thinking deeply, making her final assessment.

She called her PA and after introducing her to Lee asked Mrs Todd to take Lee to Paula. "I'm calling Paula now to brief her.

* * *

Another woman was comforting Paula's distressed PA so Mrs Todd ignored them and went straight through into Paula's office with only one quick knock before opening the door and walking in.

"Paula, this is Lee Peach. Please look after him well as he appears to be your grandmother's protégé. Bye."

Held in Paula's glare, Lee called to Mrs Todd as she reached the door and said, "Thank you Mrs Todd."

"Well, at least you have manners," Paula snapped. "My little empire has been breached, by my own grandmother of all people! Why is she doing this to me?"

"Because you are the best and she regards me as her protégé?"

"Mention that word to me ever again and you'll be on your backside in the gutter."

"Yes ma'am."

"And don't try being cute with me. I'm Paula, even to you."

Paula angrily went over to an side bench and Lee made her back stiffen when he called, "Coffee with a touch of milk, please."

He grinned when he saw her reach into the under-cupboard for a second mug. He winced, eyeing the tight butt and no sign of suspender clip bumps. Enough leg was showing to indicate Paula wasn't wearing hold-ups. She was in the dreaded tights, heating aromas around her groin.

Lee had already assessed Paula: A young woman under stress who was made-up and dressed to look like a mouse. Mouse -- there was no other word for it. Her hair was mousy and untidy, her reasonably sized breasts were wobbling without support, her make-up was minimal -- nothing really wrong with that but the application was careless and he suspected the products used were that same she wore from her early teens. She wore a black shroud that presumably she though was a dress. Oh dear. The one consoling thought was the chassis underneath looked shaped elegantly -- at least that was him impression of the faultless-looking legs from ankles up to the mid-thigh level he'd glimpsed when she bent over to get his mug.

"How old are you Paula?"

She turned with a slight smile. "Twenty-seven if it's any business of yours." Walking back to her desk she said, "Now I talk and you listen. Got that?"

Lee nodded submissively.

Chapter 3

Paula had listened in disbelief when Martha called her. Her grandmother was ordering her -- not asking her -- to take on a distant relative called Lee Peach, very distant as according to Martha, Paula's great-great-grandmother Amelia Scott had married Oliver Peach.

Paula with her quick mind recalled the connection in an instant. Her grandfather Trent Islington-Scott had heroically gone back into a burning textile factory three times to bring out female workers two at a time before the roof collapsed the fourth time he re-entered the building and he perished. Paula's mother Charlene aged three was left an orphan because her mother had died in childbirth. Lee Peach's grandfather had taken Martha and her baby Charlene into his family and seven years later his only child Albert Peach was born. Martha was also taken into the company and forced to obtain qualifications in accountancy and was then promoted within the company. At twenty-three Charlene who worked as housekeeper became pregnant to one of her guardian's friends and after Paula was born Albert Peach hired a live-in nanny and placed Charlene, who never married, to work with her mother. Now the spoilt brat grandson of Martha's deceased guardian had been placed under Martha's care and Martha insisted he become Paula's personal assistant.

"No, no way," Paula had flared. "You know all my executive staff apart from the aged financial controller are females which is appropriate because our business is female apparel?"

"I do darling but I have an emotional debt to repay. After your mother disgraced herself by becoming pregnant did my guardian throw her out on to the street? He did not, instead he handed her to me to make something of her life. But how the wheels turn as his son wants to break Lee, to humiliate him because he's shown signs of being the black sheep of the family but I will not allow that to happen."

"But me, why me?" Paula whined.

"Because your company is dragging its feet, that's why. This boy has intelligence to burn and already has been schooled into a good understanding of the way business operates and he knows about feminine apparel."

"How on earth can you know that? The closest he would have come to that is pulling off the panties of sluts."

"Paula, I choose to ignore that comment. He may just be the young man to smarten you up -- just look at the way you dress, although your mother is to blame for that."

"Martha, don't speak to me like that!"

"Well, at least you have your grandmother's fire. Just take him and propel him forward Paula. I'll not accept anything less."

"If he lays one finger on me he'd down the road."

"Possibly that's what you need darling but let's not waste time. If I hear he's been sacked without justification you'll have to answer me. I've instructed personnel to promote Janice you PA to a more senior position. That's all."

Lee Peach, what a feminine name, fumed Paula but then settled down knowing the kid's mother was a lovely lady and several years ago when they'd first met had acknowledged their distant relationship with one of the warmest smiles Paula had ever received. She called in Janice to give her the good news but as to be expected Janice burst into tears and had to be calmed.




Stocking Tops Pt. 03



Paula waited for Janice's unwelcome replacement to arrive in a rather agitated state. Her grandmother had no right to order her around like this; on the other hand Paula accepted Martha could do whatever she wished. Well, she'd do her best, knowing that Martha would reward her if she managed to demonstrate great results, but how was one to make anything out of a snotty nosed kid was anyone's guess but she had to admit gangly teenage guys did grow up.

Unexpectedly, she was blown over when first sighting him, horrified that her thighs had pressed together in carnal excitement. What was happening to her? Far from being a snotty nosed kid he appeared much older than nineteen, had a mane of beautiful blond hair and carried himself with grace and an alertness that perhaps belied considerable strength, intellectual if not physical. What's more he was dressed as if he was the young business executive of the year. Her heart raced and she had the sudden fear she'd look rather dowdy with him beside her. Oh God. Was this a gift or was it trouble?

Although the bossy Mrs Todd irritated her by calling Lee Martha's protégé, Paula was smart enough to see that the almost unapproachable Mrs Todd obviously rather taken by the young man and when she turned to acknowledge his polite farewell Mrs Todd displayed a smile of rarely seen quality. Well, well.

Paula almost dropped the coffee mug she was picking up when he asked her age. The cheek of the interloper! She left she was on the back foot and guessed that was his intention so smiled slightly and said twenty-seven and then snapped back to show him who was boss.

He didn't blink when he bounced him and unexpectedly nodded submissively. God he was a cool one.

"Martha mentioned you were expelled from boarding school just three weeks before finishing but she didn't say why. Are you..."

"Found in bed with another senior student. Both of us were wearing stockings. Neither of us is gay but we found we both had this thing about stockings."

Paula listed in disbelief and then in dismay heard herself laughing lewdly.

He looked at her sternly. "I accept it was inappropriate behaviour but there is no need to embarrass me by laughing."

Paula sunk into her chair, muttered that she apologized and asked him numerous questions about women's apparel which he answered without effort so she tried tea-length dress (anywhere from just below the knee to four inches about the ankle) and quinceanera gowns and accessories (a Latin tradition sometimes known as Sweet Fifteen). 

She frowned thinking perhaps he'd swotted up on the Internet last night.

"As a father, with your wife on a business trip overseas, how would you choose your daughter's graduation gown?"

"I guess the sensible way would to take her shopping accompanied by two of her closest and most sensible friends."

Paula then took him through current fashionable colours and again he answered impeccably.

Thwarted, she asked, "What do you think of my clothes and overall appearance?"

"What you wear is your business to be as your assistant. Now that I've seen you I'll dress down in future so as not to embarrass you."

Paula felt her cheeks burn but held back from hitting out. "How would you like to see me present myself?"

He looked away and said he had no wish to offend her.

"I find that unacceptable."

"Could I answer in another way?"

She gritted and said if he must.

"Show me around here, introduce me to people who count and then take me to lunch and after that place yourself in my hands."

"What?"

"I don't mean sex, I'll take you shopping."

"That's even worse."

"I did say in answering that original question I had no wish to offend you."

"Well, Mr Smart Ass," Paula said, in suicidal mood from suppressed rage, pulling her handbag from her bottom drawer. "Let's get this over with. We'll attend to the business end later."

Aware Paula was not enjoying the occasion, Lee spoke to here carefully, extracting information about Paula and her work, focussing on her completely and gradually she lost some of her resentment.

They came to a hairdressers and she laughed. It's 10:30, peak time and they require morning books here at least two weeks in advance. Can't you read?"

"Stay here," he grinned, as if talking to an underling. 

She watched fascinated as the woman behind the desk scowled and shook her head. Then Lee said something and handed over money -- how much Paula couldn't see. He appeared at the door and called her.

"The owner says she'll do you herself as they are very busy. Two women are under dryers so I said I only require you to have a shaping trim."

"Oh, so I'm a call girl and you are my pimp?" Paula snapped.

"Almost," he said over his shoulder. "I said the boss sent me down from the advertising agency to get some styling into your hair and they have a crew waiting to film you pulling on stockings because you have fabulous legs."

"Legs? You know nothing about me legs and stockings? I never wear them."

"Don't tell Alexia that otherwise she will be disappointed in me."

"Alexia? She invited you to call her by her first name?"

"Not until I asked her what her name was."

Bewildered and almost over-awed by the cheek of him, Paula followed meekly behind Lee.

"Alexia, this is super model Paula Peach. Just trim her fringe back an inch and give her better shape, particularly around the back. Perhaps a razor cut."

"Yes sir, just leave it to me. You'll find men's magazines over in the far corner."

As Alexia obediently shortened the fringe she said to Paula: "Where did you find him dear? You're no more a super model than I'm a mother of eight and no way is he head of production at Butcher and Bennett International Ad Agency as he claims to be. He's no more than a day over twenty-four."

"Good spotting Alexia. My boss has forced him on to me as my personal assistant. He thinks I need smartening up to run an apparel business and..."

"He's on the ball there dear until your business is retro fashion. Even my near penniless juniors here dress above you, and just look at your dry skin and eyebrows that make you look like a TV comedian."

"A male comedian."

"Of course."

"Oh. Oh dear. You know Alexia, he's barely nineteen, just finished school?"

"And a con artist to boot. I feel he's going to go a long way so enjoy him while you can Paula. My impression is he really knows how to talk to women but at that age he'll feel as little embarrassed in sexually engaging so you are in the position to take him on a learning curve."

"Sex with him?" Paula gulped.

"Well, if that's a problem why don't you hand him over to me?"

"What -- you're twice his age."

"A little more actually but yum, yum. Remember my offer Paula."

Paula left the hair salon patting the side of her hair affectionately. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes, your face appears a little livelier and the reshaping makes you look more sophisticated."

"Me looking sophisticated?" Paula said in disbelief and then found herself being pulled into premises called Facial Systems.

"Good morning ma'am, I need to demonstrate to my hosiery model here that her eyebrows require severe attention as does that unnourished skin. Please have a beautician work on her for no more than twenty minutes and Paula here will pay in advance for four sessions of make-up instruction and purchase recommended product and accessories."

"Yes sir, certainly sir. Oh Isobel?"

Half an hour later Paula was lifted up in the reclining couch and looked at her reflection in near disbelief. She looked, well, attractive. "Thank you Isobel, you have performed a semi-miracle," she said tipping the beautician generously.

Paula and Lee went off to early lunch. "What?" she snorted, aware he was grinning at her.

"I'm enjoying seeing the transition from kindly frog to a promising beauty."

"You rat's ass," she said, entering the restaurant and checking her hair on the wall mirror, startled momentarily because a near stranger looked back at her."

"Ohmigod."

Paula came under more pressure after lunch but she had the benefit of two glasses of wine to assist her to relax.

First Lee made her try on a black business jacket and skirt and when the size was right for her and the skirt length was right for him -- three inches above her knees instead of her customary three inches below, he then persuaded her to buy three more suits and some colourful shirts.

"We run a wholesale apparel business," she complained.

"Yes, but I'm already afraid of what I will find in your stock lines," he grimaced. 

At a stockings boutique he asked her about her favourite colours. 

"Black or tan and not stockings, I only wear tights."

"Why?"

"Because they are easier to put on."

Lee told her to sit and he spoke to an assistant, not bothering to check out stock. Lee sat with Paula and chatted while the senior saleswoman gathered up a dozen packs of stockings and wrapped them.

"Go fetch and pay Paula," Lee ordered.

She went off and complained to the woman they'd be the wrong sizes and colours.

"Please step behind this screen ma'am and lift your skirt for me."

"Thank you, they will be a perfect fit. I confirm you do have lovely legs. He's so knowledgeable about stockings. He wants you to get used to stay-ups before graduating you on to suspender belts."

Outside in the street Paula snarled, "Is this humiliating stupid plot that's going nowhere except to land you and me in the inability to work together over?"

"Almost."

"Almost?"

"I have to take you somewhere to help you dress and to calm you before we return to work."

"Help me dress -- are you insane?"

"Just a little in persisting with you. You've cooperated with me to this point. Please let me finish the transformation."

Lee backed Paula against the shop window. She squirmed, both hands carrying shopping, and he pushed against her and ran a finger across her left breast. They both watched the braless nipple harden."

"Are you coming on to me?" she finally said.

"A little. But I'm not having sex with you until we have a secure sleeping arrangement."

"A what?" she choked, attempting to drown a contemptuous laugh.

"I was told you are not married and have two female flatmates. I live at home. Neither situation is conducive to screaming fun in bed. But once thing at the time -- we can talk about other things later. Today we concentrate on the new you arriving back at your office and taking me on a tour of your establishment."

Paula flared, "You conceited and arrogant bully. You have no sensitivity and..."

Lee applied a single stroke to the nipple again. Although Paula saw what he was about to do she made no effort to wriggle away. "This is not a time for sensitivity. I have been thrown into a position supposedly in which I'm meant to drown and there I have you trapped in a hole beginning to fall in on you so my priority is to bring up both to the surface and up and running."

"What hole am I in?"

"You company is the poorest performer with your division and has been so for the past three years, which includes the last two years under your management. Emotionally you are unstable and rather that stand up and fight you are resigned to coasting along until the inevitable happens."

"Has Martha told you that?"

"No."

"You father?"

"No."

"Then who?"

"No one. I just read three years of division annual reports, sighted you and assessed you and put two and two together. Come on, where can we go to dress you?"

"My apartment is within short walking distance. My flatmates will be at work."

They walked while Paula moaned about her caving into him like that and that was because he was such a bully and it would not happen again and she didn't care if he resigned his position when they returned to the office and..."

"You're such a loser."

"How dare you, you fucking wanker. God, you are unbelievable."

He remained silent until she burbled herself to a stop. Then he darted in front of her and pushed her against a brick wall. She was trembling with anger but did look at her left breast waiting for it to be stroked, but that thought was thwarted.

"Listen, you weak-kneed, brain-suppressed and unloved underachiever. You are locked between your demanding mother and grandmother, each with their own agendas. It's time to break out and find you own life."

She began crying so he held her. She tried to break away but gave up when his grip slackened and her shoulders slumped when he said he'd slap her mouth if she attempted to scream for help. "You are receiving long overdue help," he said, losing the menace in his tone.

"Are you going to rape me?" Paula asked, submissively.

Shocked, Lee let her go and walked off, angered by her inability to see outcomes, angry with himself for pushing her too fast and too hard.

He heard the clatter of her three-inch heels behind them and then her soft call, "Stop, Lee please stop."

"Take these two bags," she said and when he did so she reached up and stroked his face. In astonishment he heard her apologize and say she could be a stupid bitch at times and that all the time, deep down, she'd been aware of his intent of doing more than an external makeover of her."

"W-what do you mean?" 

She said it so simply that he almost cried. "You are bent on saving me from myself."

Well, Lee had not quite pictured himself to the extent of being a White Knight but he recognized the truth in what she'd just said. Rather than reply he lifted the arm beside him. She placed her arm through his crook and they walked on with Paula taking her time to gently explain that in all the years she could remember her mother, in bouts of depression, would blame Paula's arrival as the turning point when her mother's promising life had been ruined.

When she'd finished Lee said, "I think this not altogether your mother's fault -- she probably did not received desirable counselling at the time she found herself pregnant and felt she was alone in dealing with it even though her mother stood alongside you."

"I know, and have known for some years. Even now she refuses to seek help. I do think she has improved somewhat since I moved out from under her feet and into a shared flat."

At the flat Paula looked at him solemnly. "I suppose you want to see me naked."

"No," he smiled. "You change in your room but call me in to help you with your stockings as they are somewhat finer than your choice of panty hose.

She withdrew with obvious relief. A few minutes later she called him in, looking a little distressed, standing in bra and panties and revealing the glorious legs that Lee knew would be there, having glimpsed much of them back on when she'd reached down for a coffee mug earlier that morning. She was watching his eyes so he showed wide-eyed appreciation.

"Trouble?"

"The bra size is much too tight."

Lee looked at the moderate size breasts now looking rather jaunty and licked his top lip for her benefit. "The fitter took my side in agreeing this was your size. What you wear when you wear a bra, probably only when in the company of your mother or grandmother, are probably a size larger.

"They are and feel far more comfortable."

"This is not only about comfort. Proper fitting is important to your health."

"If you say so. The panties are so small they feel as if they are about to fall off."

"They won't and you'll soon adapt. Those other things you were wearing were large male underpants. The fear of your stockings falling down will be your dominant thought."

"We purchased one suspender belt. Can't I wear that?"

"Around the home her until you feel comfortable with the straps and learn around tension and attaching the clips so the tension and alignment feels best for you. Your upper thighs are proportionately near perfect -- rarely have I seen better."

Paula turned pink. "Oh God, Lee. Is this feeling I'm experiencing actually me feeling I'm sexy?"

He grinned and nodded and then said, "Very sexy I would think."

Paula's cheeks and skin about her bra were now deep in blush.

"Do you feel your nipples are firming?"

She nodded.

"You have confirmation you sexy young woman."

Chapter 4

Paula had steeled herself for the return to her office suite, feeling the uplift in her breasts, the beautiful fit of her black suit enhanced by a bright red open neck shirt with matching red choker, the feeling of a draught up her legs because of the high skirt -- even three inches about the knees was a good six inches higher than what she was used to -- and catching the soft whisper of fine nylon on nylon at times almost made the hair on the back of her neck rise.

She quivered in a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

"No, don't put your sunglasses into your handbag -- push them up into your hair," her adviser said. Well the kind boy had presented her with the stylish Italian shades as he put it -- as a gesture of goodwill -- so Paula happily followed his request. He was such a kind boy and he'd already told her four times in the cab he was so pleased with the transformation. But why wasn't he touching her? She'd expected him to be all over her.

The first reactions were beyond belief. The jaws of the two receptionists fell almost beyond the point of return. The younger impressionable one, gurgled, "You've been made-over." Her older companion recovered to smile and say, "You look amazing Paula, truly amazing."

"Thank you ladies," Paula said softly. "This is my new personal assistant, Lee Peach. Lee, this is Nancy Jones, so you'll have someone around your age in the office."

"Hello Nancy," Lee nodded but the young woman stood and held out her rather warm hand. Through the glass stop he saw she was wearing a mini-skirt and those stupid multi-colour stockings that stopped just below the knees and short ribbons dropped from the tops.

"Lee, this is Nancy's senior Mrs Robinson but we all call her Juliet."

"Welcome to the company Lee. We expect you to look after Paula professionally as well as Janice White had done. We were so upset to learn she was being forced out on the whim of the big boss."

"For a reason Juliet -- Martha expects this young man really does have business balls."

Lee was appalled to hear that and hear the three women laugh. Until then the face of Juliet had remained passive but was now brightened with a big smile. He caught a movement below the glass and looked to see her knees part and sighted the beginnings of a lace-stocking top. He felt himself beginning to harden so quickly silently recited the law of cosines in Euclidean geometry and successfully reversed the surge of blood flow to his penis. He heard Paula say they were about to start a tour to meet department heads and later in the week would tour the four warehouses.

As they walked away Lee was aware of Juliet looking at him speculatively. He thought she would be thinking he was responsible for the transformation of Paula's appearance. The timing of that with his arrival would have pointed to that. Paula called him into her office saying he wanted to take her phone with her. As he entered she closed the door and swung him around by the arm to face her.

"Why haven't you touched me?"

He flushed.

"I mean kissed me. You know I'm so grateful and would do anything, well, almost anything to please you."

"I-I didn't know you'd go that far. But here's my thinking on this. We should not touch until I have bedded in here and our association appears strong enough to survive any development of a personal relationship."

"Well, I'd be foolish not to accept the wisdom of that comment. So how will I know when you're ready?"

"There is no need. When you feel you have developed a deep desire to have me lick your stocking tops you'll set me up to do just that."

"Lick my stockings. Yuk, how foul."




Stocking Tops Pt. 03



Lee just grinned and asked wasn't it time for her to begin his induction into her business. 

Department heads had already heard the rumour that a young guy had become the boss's personal assistant and that it was the decree of Martha. They were still astonished to find Lee was so young and even more astonished to find their boss had taken on the appearance of a genuine beauty. A raft of new rumours swept the office and when Juliet dutifully reported them to Paula they giggled like teenagers at the rumour that her toy boy was shafting Paula.

"Are you fucking him?"

"Oh Juliet, you know my mother would kill me if that were true."

They laughed again and fifteen minutes later Juliet entered the office where Paula was briefing Lee.

"Charlene went by on the way back to her office and said she wants to see you and Lee."

Lee heard Paula suck in breath and that told him she was nervous about this meeting and that probably meant she was a little afraid of her mother.

They walked through to the tower block. Pauline explained the second to seventh levels were the financial administration offices for the five divisions and beyond that were the group's administrative and services offices plus the head office and boardroom.

"So this is where my father works."

"Yes," Paula said in surprise.

"He's never taken much interest in me," Lee shrugged and Paula took his hand as they walked into the elevator.

The receptionist at the ninth floor smiled at Paula after doing a double take. "Go straight in Paula and Mr Peach. She said Mr Peach with a reverence one might use for the heir apparent so Lee grinned and said, "Call me Lee."

"Thank you Lee. I'm Shirley."

Her thighs were hidden beneath her desk so Lee had to guess she'd be a stockings lady because the 40-something was chic in personal grooming.

"Eyes off," Paula whispered at the door to her mother's office. Shirley and my mother share a bed."

"Ohmigod," Charlene said, rising and brushing down her thin dress as if to show Lee the suspender clip bumps. "You are the walking image of your mother apart from hair colour. Ohmigod Paula, have you a worthy boyfriend at last?"

Paula spun around to give her mother a good look at her. She looked at her mother and said a little tensely, "Lee shamed me into it when he arrived this morning. He took one look at me and apologized and said he'd dress down in future. He didn't say to avoid embarrassing me but didn't need to. I went on to talk about it and he said give him three hours and a free hand and he'd lead me into a makeover."

"How charming of him -- you get that from your mother Lee. So what do you get from your father?"

"Tenacity and possibly a sharp business brain although that remains to be proven."

"Martha has briefed me about what she wants done with you. You are to be given every encouragement to prosper within our organization. Your father instructed you were to start at the bottom in administration so that means you escape beginning as a storeman in dispatch which is where his father made him start."

"I'm willing to do anything reasonably required of me Martha."

"That's the spirit. This expulsion from stupid action at school. Your mother assured Martha and me that no way are you homosexual."

"Absolutely."

"So where does this leave you and Paula?"

Lee showed no sign of being provoked. "Are you talking about sex?" 

"Yes."

Lee smiled and scratching behind an ear said if there was to be sex then it was up to Paula to pull the trigger.

Charlene frowned so Lee added, "Paula is twenty-seven and I'm only nineteen."

"Paula?"

"My only comment was I thought Lee was placed beside me to tempt me."

Charlene stared at Paula but learned nothing from her daughter's passive expression. "Well, just watch it you two. Here's your contract of employment Lee. The only amendment I've made is you are not authorized to accompany Paula outside of Metropolitan London without my express permission on each occasion."

"Why is that?"

"Because I know what goes on during business trips."

"Mother, you have no right..."

"The change was made with your grandmother's approval."

Paula stared down her mother. "I can't believe I'm hearing this."

Lee placed an arm on Paula's shoulder and said, "What I do in my personal life is of no concern to this business Charlene providing I'm circumspect. Tear up that contract and notify my father that you and your mother failed to recruit me, as he desired. I'll then suggest he place me in the motor vehicle or marina divisions."

Moderating her tone, Charlene said, "You are making this difficult for me Lee."

"Then remove that clause Charlene."

"Paula?"

"Listen to him and think mother."

"That's good advice Charlene. Restore Paula's freedom to make a sound business decision about whether or not I should accompany her as her personal assistant. I accompanied her outside the office today with excellent results, don't you think?"

"Unbelievable results actually. Very well, please wait while I have Shirley make that deletion."

Three days later Paula went to Paris overnight with her head buyer. As soon as Paula had left he called a meeting of the marking manager, sales manager, financial controller and assistant head buyer to a briefing meeting in Paula's office. They all knew he was the chairman's son so arrived without any sign of resistance.

The looked startled when Paula's assistant asked for their combined input based on facts and assessments to give him a global view of the company's current progress and why sales were dragging behind forecasts.

At the end of three hours the management team expressed surprise at what had been achieved, feeling they'd combined to expose several weaknesses, the biggest one being while sales and financial returns were being closely monitored there was no formal monitoring of market trends and unsold stock was practically given away to the more important wholesale clients.

"If you can't move it, why should they?"

"No one had the answer for that but the marketing manager accepted responsibility to look into that."

"Report back to Paula and say it was your idea," Lee suggested. She nodded, looking surprised.

"We should look at holding our own clearance sales in disused warehouses like a few others in the garment and carpet industries do," suggested the sales manager and the marketing manager said she'd look into that.

They filed out agreeing it had been a rewarding meeting and thanked Lee for his initiative, still showing no sign of being called to be meeting for the benefit of their boss's PA. He grinned, wondering what they would be saying as they left the office. Juliet the senior receptionist arrived with the day's second mail, all opened and sorted with notes attached on what action he should take. Both receptionists were being very good, taking over his menial tasks, even more than what Paula had instructed as they were now processing his emailed drafts into formal letters for him to sign.

"I require a couple of decisions on this one," Juliet said. "See, here and here."

She leant over and he could feel the softness of her breast pushing into his shoulder and he could smell freshly applied perfume. She was setting him up!

"Thank you, I'll attend to it later." 

She walked out with a bit of a hip sway. He knew she'd turn at the door to see if he'd noticed so he kept looking until she stopped at the door and looked up and winked at her. The look she gave him was really inappropriate for a married woman.

He went home to find his books for his business course had arrived, so he could comment his on-line course that would provide him with a bachelor's degree in business study as fast or as slowly as he wished to complete it. Just as he sat in front of his laptop to connect to the Internet his mother called, "Is that you darling?"

"Coming," he called, and heard her titter that she liked the thought of that. She met him just inside the bedroom, absolutely starkers, which was extremely rare as she mostly wore top clothing panties and certainly stockings when she messed with him.

"You father is not home tonight and I'm going out later with Harriett Kibby-Johnston to a concert. I understand you know her daughter Cindy."

"Yes, I've gone out with her a few times."

"I know her slightly. You'd probably find her mother more exciting."

"Er, my books have arrived..."

"Lock the door darling. I've just run a bath but would like some attention. I'll put on hold-ups to save time."

The lace tops were decorated with bright blue sewn flowerets and Lee gave them a real soaking with his licks. His mother was fingering herself deeply and three times brought out the two fingers and commanded him to suck them. He did so, knowing what that was about: she was training him to be more obedient with the ultimate goal of having him thrust into her with his cock. He sighed, hoping that conclusion would not be inevitable.

Lee sat on his haunches, waiting for her to finish. He saw signs of her skin loosing its bloom and felt saddened. She'd always been such a lovely woman to her and now more people were saying he was so much like her. Her fingers raced into a frenzy and she grunted in success. As she signed and removed her fingers Lee scooped up some of the liquids heading towards the towel she'd placed on the bed underneath her. He sloshed it over one very upright nipple and commanded suck, knowing she'd have enough tit to get the nipple to her mouth with only a small lift of her head. He made another scoop and slapped that on to her other nipple and massaged it in. She was groaning and moving her stomach and butt. Folding an arm under both of her knees he pushed back and as her butt came into view he gave her a hard whack with the flat of his hand.

She called out, "Oh Lee!" convulsed three times and a small stream of opaque liquid dribbled out of here.

"That's amazing," she gasped. "I rarely deliver that much even at the end of a great fuck."

Lee smiled, hoping they could work on that and allow him to avoid carnal penetration. He went to kiss her but she insisted he lick her nipples before she kissed him.

Lee left, telling her he was going out for dinner.

"Don't bother calling cook, I'll eat your meal instead of waiting for later supper, I feel depleted. You were absolutely amazing darling."

Lee knew he was too aroused to study so walked to a nearby restaurant. His eyes lit up when he saw Cindy was there but they dulled in disappointment when realizing she was with someone."

Cindy waved with she saw him. She introduced him to Sharon who also looked eighteen and said slyly, "Lee does indescribable things to me."

"Like what?"

Cindy placed her shoeless right leg on to Lee's lap and to his embarrassment described the indescribable."

Sharon turned brick red and Lee half-expected her to flee but she continued listening wide-eyed and when Cindy whispered, "Kick your left shoe off and place you leg on Lee's lap. Lee who was sitting opposite them nodded to the wide-eyed Sharon and he turned brick red when Cindy whispered, "Unzip." He looked at Sharon who nodded and he unzipped.

It was only a tease because they failed to get the timing of their combined stroking spot-on but the giggling, clutching a red faces indicated they had worked themselves up to something more rewarding.

As they left the restaurant Cindy invited them around to her place as her mother was out till late.

As Cindy and Sharon stripped excitedly in Cindy's bedroom after she locked the door Lee thought he'd only have to touch his erection and it would blow -- he was aroused almost to the max. It was the first time he'd been in a threesome.

Cindy stripped to her hold-ups and told Sharon to remove her tights while she fetched a pair of hold-ups for her. They bumbled around with much sighing and laughter until Cindy suggested the smaller Sharon stretch out on her, topside up. That was the perfect solution because it allowed Lee to attack the stocking tops of both of them in earnest, virtually simultaneously and afterwards when he moved up a little he was able to lick and finger their pussies in alternative actions. He moved up again to enter them and was able to work Sharon's left breast that was topside and because of the thick pillow under Cindy's butt could also give attention to her right breast squeezed out between the two bodies. He dipped in between them and none of them lasted long. The first time he entered Sharon he winced because although well lubed she was so tight.

"Have you had sex before?" he asked.

"Yes, twice," she panted. "But this is the first time with a gown male."

Lee emptied into her before remembering to ask was she protected but found out later she was. Cindy of course had been on the pill since turning fourteen because her mother simply assumed her daughter would be promiscuous as she'd been at that age and remained so.

Lee went and showered and returning found the teenagers busily occupied but they said good-bye and because they were in a sixty-nine Lee avoided kissing them. Sharon said she would be switching to stockings when she went shopping next day.

* * *

Next day Charlene called to invite him to lunch in the boardroom with Martha. She said they wanted to have a very private chat with him. He accepted because he was left without a choice, knowing it would be a concerted effort to warn him off Paula. 

Wrong.

In the ride to the top floor Charlene asked, "Has my daughter told you my partner is female?"

Lee saw that as a trap. He could deny it but he'd be caught out if Paula had told Charlene. "She vaguely indicated it."

"She's a good girl. If you must know it's my PA."

"That's handy."

Charlene frowned and then smiled. "We are rather an incestuous lot around here. I guess you are unaware that your father and my mother occasionally have it off?"

Lee had the grace to look shocked.

"Just keep that to yourself. I'm not aware that Paula knows and I certainly don't want you telling your mother, as I have no wish for her to be hurt. She's been so lovely to me over the years, in fact right from the time your father first brought her home. I'm only telling you this as I suspect you have the nose to sniff out such things. My mother also goes off for the occasional weekend with two of our other directors, but at separate occasions as far as I know."

"I appreciate your wisdom in telling me and I guarantee I'll never repeat anything to anyone about the conversation we've just had."

"Good boy. I accept that assurance totally. Here we are."

Martha kissed Lee confidently and thanked him for the transformation of her granddaughter. "She has emerged as a swan. Charlene and I have each given her a thousand pounds to add to her wardrobe while in Paris."

"She'll love that."

"Charlene and I wish to say we have no objection if you and Paula decide to sleep together. Your hostile reaction to our attempt to prevent such a union scared us as you have no idea what a foul temper you father has when truly riled."

Lee grinned and said his mother had taught him from an early age to disappear when he heard his father roar.

"Lee sit at the head of the table," Martha said and Charlene pressed the room service button.

During lunch served with fine wine the two women briefed Lee on everything they thought was wrong with the apparel company. Finally Martha asked, "Why have we chosen to tell you this Lee?"

"To give me the chance to prove myself but even more importantly to avoid you guys having to critically dissect perceived shortcomings in Paula's management and vision but having me drip-feed these things to her as being my assessments."

Charlene said, "Exactly, and drip-feed is the operative word. We are thinking of delivery spread over six months."

"That seems about what I would figure."

"I told you Charlene he's a clever sod. What he doesn't know he analyses and attempts to create the correct answer or outcome, just as his father does. Unquestionably he's his parent's son. Will you do this for us?"

"Yes, of course. I'll even debate some of the issues with Paula in the hope she'll be simulated and produce some of the remedies herself."

Charlene remained looking relaxed but her voice tensed. "Lee, what was the purpose of that meeting you called of High Street department heads yesterday?"

Lee smiled. "You have good networking Charlene. I wanted a thorough briefing but used the opportunity to pursue two concerns of my own, liked to the issues you've raised with me, namely, why is High Street losing market penetration and why has the bottom line dipped for the past three years, the first year when Paula's predecessor was running the company."

"And?"

"We identified three areas to be assessed with reports going to Paula as being the initiative of the presenter of that report. I wanted to make a global appraisal, as we were taught at school, rather than probe department by department. I also suspect the chief buyer has lost ground and become inadequate but in respect of her deputy, on my first look and listening to her I'm not sure her deputy would be the right successor."

Charlene looked at Martha who nodded. "I had intended talking directly to Paula about that because hitting the market with 'the look' at the right time is crucial in market penetration for High Street fashion and Martha and I am sure that's partly the reason from the company losing traction. Please advise Paula of your suspicions as soon as possible -- are you up to that?"

"Yes and she is aware I seem to have a grip on women's fashion."

* * *

Juliet arrived with the second delivery of mail and she had no queries.

"Lovely stockings Juliet and I've noted you seem to prefer suspender belts."

The senior receptionist took a deep breath and read Lee's eyes. "Do you want me to lock the door?"

"Yes," he grinned. Lee darted across to lock the connecting door to Paula's office and as soon as he was seated pushed his chair back from his desk. Juliet stood between Lee and the desk and asked, "What now?"

"Sit on the desk and kick off your shoes."

He pulled up a shoeless leg and began licking Juliet's toes.

"Oooh," Juliet said pulling up her skirt and thrusting a hand between her panties and groin."

"Don't, Nancy will smell your scent."

"Oh God, thank you. I suspect she reports everything to Charlene."

"This is only a preliminary. We'll have to devise foolproof systems, including for me fucking you across the desk if that's what you want."

"You're twelve years younger than me."

"Is that all?"

Juliet smiled and said she'd have to think about letting him fuck her. "I thought you were only wanting to lick my pussy."

"On this occasion I just want to lick your stocking tops."

"Oooh, you're one of those? Isn't this my lucky day?"

Chapter 5 

Home alone, Lee took the first of two calls that evening.

"Hi, it's Juliet."

"Oh hi, what are you doing? Washing your stockings?"

She tinkled a laugh and called him a funny boy. The laugher died just as suddenly. "I'm in the bath, thinking about the revolting thing I allowed you to do to me this afternoon."

He considered that and then, "Was it really revolting?"

She answered with a deep sigh and then a squeaked, "Not really."

"Good, I should hope not. Just the wrong guy, huh?"

"Oh God, yes! You understand? I can't believe what I'm hearing."

"You're a lovely lady Juliet. Although I'm young, my older mind - at least that's how I privately acknowledge my gift - gives me amazing vision in the abstract sense. I have grown accustomed to licking stocking tops and that is the sensual gift my mother gave me. She has also endowed me with a deep understanding of women without leaving me with a dislike of men, not even for my own father who treats her like his social personal assistant. Since passing through adolescent I have reached out beyond my mother but only to lick the stocking tops of women to whom I am attracted in that way. Lately I've found it satisfying to go beyond the simple lack of licking and feeling squirming flesh under my hands and the beautiful sound of grunts, purring and breast-licking going on above my head. But I never force to achieve my personal enjoyment Juliet. Please understand I don't feel the need to ever touch you again but you must expect me to continue looking at you in admiration because you have matured into a gorgeous woman."




Stocking Tops Pt. 03



"I-I don't know what to say."

"Say you don't want me to ever again to touch you with sensuous intent."

"Oh God, that would make me sound like your executioner."

Lee chuckled and said was a fabulous response. He then asked Juliet to say it.

He heard her swallow and then say, "Lee, please don't lick or touch me improperly ever again."

"I'm happy to comply. I encourage you to utter that command so you'd remember saying that and would expect me to honour your wish and therefore accept you have the responsibly of giving me no further encouragement."

"Wouldn't a simple don't do it again and your response of okay have kept matters simplified?"

"Before I gained your consent to lick your stockings you expected me to treat you softly and speak to you eloquently. What we have done here is to use that process in reverse."

"You are an astonishing young man."

Lee said softly, "Good night Juliet."

"No wait Lee!"

"I'm still here."

"Don't you want to know why I've forced myself to come to this decision?"

Lee said he suspected he knew and Juliet challenged him to say it.

"You have thought deeply about your personal code of behaviour, your marriage vows and that time is running out for you to have babies so you have decided the time has arrived to force the pace with your husband."

Breathing heavily Juliet said she had the feeling her mind had been invaded. 

Lee laughed and said his reply had been based on logic.

"But just before I called you I decided to be more proactive with him."

"With me that still is a logical thought. Why isn't he in the bath with you."

"What?"

"Do you two just fuck and then roll over?"

"Lee!"

She was ignored. "Does he lick your pussy?"

Although she sucked in breath the answer was a whispered no.

"Shave your vulva - that eliminates the chances of aversion to hair in his mouth and tickling his nose and any odour of urine contamination. Spray it with French perfume before you engage him. Start doing it on the lounge sofa, on his favourite TV chair, on the floor and across the dining table."

"Lee stop. He'll think I've become a sex maniac."

Lee said patiently he meant slowly pushing her husband's button and she could begin by taking him to a cabin in a boring location for a weekend. "What is he doing now?"

"Watching TV."

"Why is he watching TV without you or even more critically is he watching TV because he's become bored with you?"

"Lee, you are making me nervous."

"Relationship building and maintenance takes more effort than driving a vehicle on auto Juliet. My mom taught me that. I now regard her as the best woman I'm every likely to know although well knowing I may find a woman to divert me from that single-minded belief."

"I can hear him approaching to check that I'm all right. I've been here for a long time. I'm thinking about renting a cabin. Goodnight Lee."

Lee dropped his phone after snapping it shut feeling well satisfied. He felt certain Juliet was now recharged with confidence. He'd missed out on a good fuck there, he was sure about that but he would rather her husband find that he'd forgotten just how good she was at that and how lonely she was. Images of the thighs of women began drifting through his mind. Lee sighed and thought he'd check out his mother's stockings drawer and had almost reached the door when his phone went.

"Hi, what are you doing?"

Lee grinned and said, "Masturbating."

There was a shocked silence followed by suppressed laughter.

"Are you back home?"

"Yes, just arrived but my flatmates have already eaten. Perhaps I should come over and eat you."

Was this Paula handing him the trigger to pull? "Come over right now - my parents are in Dublin. I'm off to the kitchen to put a steak on for you. I could do with a second dinner."

"Lee!" he heard her yell as he cut the call, grinning.

He had potatoes on the boil, the peas ready to microwave and the hot plate ready for the steaks when he went out and set the table for two. He hadn't a clue whether she would arrive but was confident she'd been thinking about him a lot while in Paris so may have drawn up an agenda in her mind. If she didn't come it wouldn't really matter as most guys accept they waste a lot of time and effort over women. He put on the lights, opened the front door and returned to the kitchen to open the wine and suddenly she was in the kitchen and saying, "Hi." It was a nervous hi, and that was good. Almost as good as her rushing him and perhaps even dragging her hand down beyond his belt buckle because that's probably what she was too nervous to do.

"Hi."

Her face clouded.

"I've missed you so much. It's great seeing you again."

Her face turned sunny.

"Are you here to seduced me?"

She beamed and charged him, dropping the present she was carrying. He stepped forward to indicate he was a willing participant and they collided - she bouncing back a little. He picked her up and kissed her, just briefly, because she was a little breathless. He waited until fully erect before letting her to slide down his body because he didn't want her to mistake what she'd feel - it was now much bigger and more pronounced than his belt buckle.

"Oh God," she almost whimpered as she made contact.

He saved her from a possible big moment of indecision by saying would she pour the wine while he put the steaks on. She arrived beside him with the glasses before the steaks were ready to turn so he took his wine and placed an arm around her. Paula switched her glass to her left hand and placed her arm around him.

"This is nice," she said nervously.

Well, she was asking. He'd promised her she'd have to ask before he'd ever touch her. "Will you stay the night?"

She looked at him with troubled eyes. "If you make love to me it will mean the end to us working together."

"I take that's a yes."

"Yes, I want you to fuck me Lee."

"Well, that's cleared the air," he grinned. "Tomorrow, if you can still walk, you may wish to promote Juliet as our joint personal assistant, promote me to a new executive position of new business manager and then report to your mother to expect to receive recommendations for big changes around here."

"Big changes?"

"Yes, put your arm back around me," Lee said, turning the steaks and switching on the microwave. "That's why you went to Paris wasn't it? To look at trends there, to think and to see how your chief buyer measures up?"

Looking puzzled, Paula said she'd told no one, including her mother, about her reasons for going to Paris.

"I wouldn't have either, not with my neck on the block and knowing my future was in my own hands. I'll help you with the restructuring."

"You can't possible know about that?"

"Logically it's the only way to go. Something like open-heart surgery is required. You tell me what way you wish to go and I'll help with the planning and implementation." 

They ate and talked over dinner and clearing away and discussion continued for another hour. Paula had it all worked out in her mind. It would be a twin-branding approach to women's apparel, dropping men's lines entirely: Women at Work and Women After Work with twin goals of offering only quality clothing at 'affordable prices.

He asked wasn't that a contradiction - quality and at low cost. He was told 'affordable' meant not priced beyond the means of the upper-half of the mass of working women and that few of today's women wanted to possess clothing that would last forever. Lasting for no more than two seasons without wearing thin or falling apart was sufficient to allow one to keep up apace with fashion trends.

"I understand. Perhaps you could add a luxury range?"

"I could think about it after we establish."

"Labelled the Executive Range."

"That's brilliant thinking although I should have come up with that. I can see I need you at my side. Please go out tomorrow and look for a table we can sit at, perhaps with two other people and you use it as your desk. I'll announce the two appointments tomorrow and promote fill-in Rosemary as head receptionist if she wants the job. So you fancy Juliet do you?"

"Yes, but she's married."

At that Lee held out his hand and led Paula upstairs to his bedroom, which she said was as large as her apartment that accommodated three persons. She stood obviously waiting to be undressed.

* * *

Lee stopped with his middle finger resting on her top and curled into the start of her cleavage. They both looked down at his finger in silence until he asked, "What will I find under here" and she replied with the inevitable, "That's for you to find out. You know I have just returned from Paris."

Leaving his finger where it was he kissed her softly and said, "I have given this much thought. Despite our age difference, I would very much like to commence a full-on relationship with you."

"I have reached the same conclusion."

He smiled. "It could undermine your working relationship with your personnel."

"They all know who you are and why you are here in your grooming role."

"Your mother and grandmother mightn't like it and react adversely."

"Tough."

Lee swallowed. "You have been warned."

"Thank you. I've been warned. Please get on with it because I have this great desire to be filled and then to be loved by you."

Paula held up her arms and Lee removed her light knitted top, noting for the first time the subtle highlighting in her hair.

He sucked in breath as the top of her undergarment was revealed and reached behind to undo the holding button and then the zip to drop the leather skirt. Into view came a satin floral printed jacquard long-line bustier with lightly padded under-wired cups, hook & eye front, front and back boning plus a waist cinching lace-up back.

"Beautiful," he gasped, rolling his hands over the pushed-up sweet breasts and then down the sides to her waist. He took in her pleasurable flush and held her gaze for a moment before squatting, pulling aside the matching g-string for lightly lick the outer lips of her neatly clipped pussy before licking down a garter strap to begin licking her stocking tops and sloshing at times on to the light bulge of white skin.

"Oh darling," Paula chocked convulsing and producing a damp spot on her red satin g-string. "I've been waiting since my late teens for a male to do this to me."

THE END



Stocking Tops Pt. 04



I posted three parts of the adventures of Englishman Lee Peach some time ago on this site and this late addition follows requests for more about this weirdo. He is about to wean off licking mommy's stocking tops and become a 24-hour sensation in Austalia. 

The story and characters are 100% fiction, there is no need to point out minor errors and the grammar is copyright to the author.

Enjoy. EG



CHAPTER 1

Lee Peach sat behind his Silk (Queen's counsel) Penny Welsh, as she stood ready to appeal to the judge for leniency for her client. Lee knew he was doomed; career over with Peach Textile Group because his father would disown him once again. 

Old farts like his father regarded being arrested for fucking the woman (believed by the media to be the fifth daughter of the Speaker of the House for the Commons), on a lawn beside the Palace of Westminster housing Parliament, was a hanging offence.

Penny almost leaped out of her robe when her client ran his hand under the black gown to feel for stockings. Lee pulled his hand away in disgust, finding panty hose.

"You fucking imbecile," whispered Penny to Lee as the judge prepared to make his decision. "Have you no respect for me?"

"No, but wear stockings and the answer would be yes."

It was a minor offence as the deed had occurred at 2 am when most tourists were at night clubs and the good people of London would have been in their beds when the accused and Madam X was did their dastardly deed in a near-hallowed place.

"Ten days," ruled the judge. Lee was carted off to prison with a criminal record against his name.

The next day he was released from prison on appeal.

An urgent hearing was granted and Penny successfully argued that Judge Hope had failed to take into account submissions where the so-called offence had taken place was of minor significance because land in question was common ground and a common activity among Londoners after dark for centuries had been sexual intercourse. She produced documents proving the land had been invested in the Crown as a place for couples to go courting and that right had never been rescinded.

The sentence was quashed and the defendant rebuked for wasting police and the court's time. The Peach name had been cleared but the damage was done. A courier delivered Lee his termination notice from the employment of the Peach Textiles Group. He went back to the apartment he shared with Paula but there was no sign of her. Lee had expected that because she'd not shown up at the court. He just collected his childhood Teddy and favorite shotgun and shifted to a hotel, leaving the lease guarantors, Peach Textiles Group, to sort out the expenses of early termination of lease and paying for the disposal of everything left behind by Lee.

Lee called Victoria, his mom, who cried and said his father had refused to allow her to associate with her son. She appealed to Lee to stay away because his father had adopted a black scowl and kept a loaded shotgun at his side. "Just disappear."

"Okay mummy er mum. Do I get one last lick of your stockings before I go?"

"No, but darling, don't despair. When the cloud of black shame settles, I'll come to you and will cum all over your lovely head while you lick above my stocking tops."

Hearing such cheerful words buoyed Lee immensely and his confidence was in ascendancy.

Lee heard a babble below and looking out the window saw the media was arriving, setting up TV cameras and the photographers were on stepladders but that was curious because they were trespassing on open ground, as they'd come in beyond the brick wall. He shrugged, looked out the back windows and saw crafty journalists were in position there. Grinning, Lee went up on to the roof and stepped over on to the adjoining apartment block and walked out its street entrance whistling.

Four days later Lee was in Sydney, pleased to be a free man living in a country founded as a British penal colony. He supposed that's why he felt really free and at home. He'd just visited Myer Department Store and felt like rubbing his erection in glee when he saw the female store assistants wore stockings and the stocking department was fully stocked including a range exclusive to Peach Textiles Group.

A pretty assistant said to him sweetly, "This is not the men's department sir." 

He smiled and asked, "May I feel your stocking tops?"

She giggled and said that ought to earn her the store prize for relating the most unusual request of the day. She declined the request and said she was only just back from her honeymoon.

"So?"

"Shove off, asshole."

Lee grinned and walked off, having confirmed something: the woman's answer indicated Australia had a crossover with Americanspeak.

An hour later he answered a knock on his hotel door. A superbly attractive young woman asked, "Mr Lee Peach, formerly of Peach Textiles in London?"

"Yes."

"What is your mother's name sir?"

"Victoria. But what is this, I haven't purchased a Lotto ticket?"

The woman just smiled, took his arm and pulled her skirt high, showing her stocking tops, and a guy Lee hadn't noticed until then took several exposures on automatic on a big camera and the two intruders then raced for the elevators.

"What the fuck?" Lee mumbled. He grabbed his jacket left for lunch. 

At dinner that evening, missing his mom and wondering whether to go to California to fuck his aunt and her friends, he watched the maitre d' arrive and ask politely if a fellow guest might share his table because the restaurant was full.

"Yes, wheel him in," Lee mumbled, hoping it wouldn't be a famous Australian footballer with nothing between the ears. Perhaps it might be Joan Collins or a prostitute?

Close.

Lee jumped to his feet and the gorgeous thing in black said, "Well, this is my lucky night."

Speculative females often fed Lee that line, but never when opening their mouth for the first time. He couldn't really say did she fuck because the maitre d' was hovering. So he said creatively "Good morning" and she giggled and the maitre d' seemed to be peering around for somewhere else to place the woman.

"It's evening. You are running on European time aren't you?"

Chewing a piece of bun Lee mumbled, "That is an intelligent remark for an Australian."

She laughed and reached across to pat his hand. "Come on, ignore the jet lag and brighten up. Say something intelligent."

"Show me your stocking tops."

The woman, in her early forties, turned pink and looked around furtively before leaning and whispering, "God, I didn't mean that intelligent. You have no idea of how many woman spend huge sums on stockings and underwear and wring their hands in despair because no one is interested in how sexy they look."

"Somewhere between 35 and 40% of all married women to the age of fifty and all unmarried females from eighteen to forty when by that age they give up and submit to same-sex relationships."

The woman boggled.

"The media only talk and write about me licking my mother's stockings but they are unaware I'm a world authority on stockings, such is my passion."

"Passion – a male with passion? God they are so rare these days except at horse racing and football and boxing matches."

They settled into a wonderful conversation. Belinda was the wife of a very successful funeral director at Dubbo, wherever that was. Probably it was behind this black stump thing Australian's talk about with authority. Lee wasn't of a mind to find out the difference between a successful and an unsuccessful funeral director, at least not while eating. 

"I wear stockings," Belinda confided.

"Like to show them to me?"

"Later," she blushed, throwing her pert and anxious to please small breasts forward.

"Love the activity of your tits."

"Oh God, let's rip through our mains and go upstairs. You have me primed already."

Belinda proved to be an acceptable substitute for Lee's mother; she came over his head copiously as he licked between the stocking tops and her bared pussy. In Lee's uninformed opinion, she fucked better than expected for a funeral director's wife and after a rest invited him to take her ass as she was a virgin there. Freshening in the shower Belinda had found a tube of hair conditioner made of natural ingredients and that gave her the idea of an alternative use.

The gel worked fined but she was so damn tight. They pushed and rested and sweated, huffing and puffing for twenty minutes before Lee had to admit defeat.

"But I want you to shoot up my butt?"

"Then play with my balls and talk dirty while I push my fingers up your pussy and massage myself against your pussy wall."

They heated up and with Belinda wriggling a lot. Suddenly he blaaaaaaghed like a calf that had lost its mother and she wailed in a huge release. It was only then Lee realized the sharp pain he'd felt just prior to shooting up her chute was her dry ring finger being pushed up his rectum, rings included.

They were at it again in the morning before and after having breakfast in bed.

They parted sadly because Belinda expected her husband to join her later in the morning – he'd sent her ahead to have a day's shopping by her and to arrange suitable entertainment.

"Some entertainment I've had," she giggled, applying strawberry jam from the breakfast tray to her nipples and to Lee's rather tired dick.

Later in the morning Lee stopped in shock when he spotted the billboard at a newspaper stand: 'Stockings Guy Hits Sydney'. The guy who sold the newspaper didn't recognize him; Lee deduced he probably couldn't read. He slunk back to his suite to read the exposé but it wasn't much – just the photo of the babe with gorgeous legs and Lee and a few words. 

The story whipped through his background saying he was the son of multi-millionaire Albert Peach married to the sensational Victoria, a former model. Lee had been engaged in the design and manufacture of stockings in England and France but preferred to have the legs in them and the lights down low when he made his assessment. He claimed that was what he was doing recently on grass next to Britain's Parliament with the Speaker of the House's fifth youngest daughter as she had persuaded him to assess her stockings but the little tramp was seducing him when the police arrived. He received a month's jail for his delightful crime but big money got that reduced to a mere rebuke from the court. His father fired him and now Lee Peach was holed up in Sydney, kicking wounds and his desire to see stockings had shriveled.

Lee thought not too bad, at least it didn't make him out to be villainous. He answered the door. It was the woman who'd compromised him the previous morning. He glanced up and down the corridor but it was empty. He grabbed her by the belt and pulled her into the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Hello bitch."

She looked scared. "Am I to be taken forcibly?"

"I wouldn't touch you with a stick used to collect dogs' poo."

She burst into tears and handed him the piece of paper she had been holding. It was a check for $600.

"What's this?"

"I'm ashamed what I did this morning setting you up. I'm with a model agency and usually the assignments are okay but this one turned out to stink. Take my check and I'll pay the agency's cut," she sobbed. "If you want more dollars in compensation I'll pay you a reasonable amount."

"Show me your stocking tops."

She did that. Hand under his chin Lee studied them, waiting for her comment.

"What do you think?"

"Fucking fantastic, now take your check and get out of here."

"No wait, you don't understand. There will be a media hunt on for you – it's only a matter of time before you are hunted down and pulverized. Some of those reporters will be butch women and some married men who don't like other men who like stockings if their wives wear stockings."

Lee turned white. "Oh God."

"Please come with me. I'll take you somewhere safe."

"To Ayer's Rock – er, Uluru?"

She laughed, wiping her eyes dry, and told him to pack and wear a hat and sunglasses.

"I'm Claire Cobb," she said, as the cab pulled away from the hotel.

"Can we kiss?"

"I suppose so."

They kissed and she pulled Lee's hand on to her breast and he only had time to dig in his fingers before she pulled away and took out her makeup mirror. He sat back on his side of the cab.

"I'm engaged," she said.

"What, to a mirror?"

"To a guy, a much older guy."

"So? They doesn't mean you can't have sex with me."

Claire grinned: "What happened to the dog poo stick?"

The cab served violently and the driver muttered he was sorry.

They entered the terminal at a small airport and were immediately called. "Miss Cobb, your flight on Cobb Airlines with your guest is ready to depart."

"You have your own airline?" Lee asked incredulously.

"It's dad's idea of a joke. He has registered his Cessna Bravo as Cobb Airlines. He flies in guests when we have grand dinners or a midday barbecue or mum decides to have the girls over for a soiree."

"Australian's know the word soiree?"

"Come on you tease," Claire laughed.

They entered the black jet aircraft carrying the name Cobb Airlines in white. "Sit here, I'm taking over from dad. He'll come down and join you and when we are airborne will pour your something."

"Airborne?" Lee said nervously and she grinned and said they were in an airplane.

The father Royce looked at Lee speculatively and said, "Fair go mate, she's a better pilot than I am. A beer or name your poison."

"Juice thanks."

"Good, same as me when I'm flying. Claire could easily have a period and I'd have to take over."

Lee gathered that was a joke.

"Tell me about yourself son."

"I suppose your read today's 'Daily Telegraph' at the airport?

Royce nodded. "Sounds like you are a bit of a hard case. The inference I get is you like the feel of nylon on your cheek when you lick?"

Lee's head dropped and he said, "It's a bit of an addiction sir."

"Good on you mate. I get harder myself by rubbing my dick over stockings."

Receiving a wink above the grin, Lee knew a bond had been established.



They landed on the sealed runway at the local airport where Royce's wife Jill was waiting, standing beside a black Mercedes limo. The sheep farm of 145,000 acres was only fifteen minutes away. 

A guy called Alf came over on a solid wheeled tractor and hitched up ready to tow the aircraft into a large hanger.

"Several blokes around here run aircraft too expensive to land on unsealed runways where a flying stone could cause thousands of dollars of damage," Royce said. "Don't be nervous about meeting Jill. Claire would have called through to tell her about you. Jill's a bit snooty but likes characters with a bit of fire. She's probably have a go at you but be careful, I could be of the mind to toss you out of the airplane at 30,000 feet."

Lee grinned, Royce grinned and said, "You're all right mate. Here comes my girl."

They walk toward Jill who ran to greet them.

"Mom, this is the guy I did the dirty on in the city."

Lee was appalled where Claire's mother said, "Get him pregnant did you luv?" He was the only one not to laugh.

Jill kissed Lee and whispered, "Feel down my left thigh for proof I'm wearing stockings you sexy young man. None of the family will see the grope – go on."

Lee took the chance, felt a suspender (garter) belt strap and pulled and allowed the elastic to snap back, making Jill jump.

"I'm going to love having you around," she whispered, pushing him away.

The home was huge, airy and spacious, looking as if it had been built by the family themselves with numerous additions over the years. Lee later found that was the case. But inside it was elegantly furnished, with teak floors and French doors in every room. 

Claire was about twenty-five and her sister, a couple of years younger, came out with a black Labrador to welcome them. The dog came straight over and peed on unsuspecting Lee's shoe.

He kicked the mutt away and heard the combined air intake of the entire family. Tension was in the air but eased when Claire came up with the incredible lie, "As a new-born Lee was snatched from the rug beside his nanny by a black dog and was not found for six hours, luckily unharmed."

Jill and younger daughter Kerri wailed how dreadful but their sympathy was short-lived when Royce said, "I'll give you a gun and you can take Meg out and shoot her Lee."

Jill, Kerri and Claire formed into a distressed looking trio but broke into beautiful smiles when Lee said, "No, the dog lives."

Everyone was drinking beer or Australian sparkling wine when Kerri switched on the TV for the news at 6:00. Everyone ignored it until Jill shouted, "Oh God, look!"

The reporter was holding up the front page of the Daily Telegraph and said, "The entire Sydney media is on the hunt for London playboy know as 'Mr Stockings' shown here with the model with great legs, Claire Cobb. Mr Stockings flew in yesterday to escape the heat in London after being arresting for bonking a daughter of a top parliamentarian outside the House of Parliament on the bank of the Thames. London is packed with men and women with a fetish but none is more addicted than the infamous Lee Stocking Tops Peach, son of multi-millionaire Albert Peach, married to this gorgeous lady. Victoria Peach."

"Oh God, is that you mother?" Jill asked in awe, but was told by the family to hush.

"Lee Peach is so besotted with stocking tops that he won't date a woman who doesn't wear them and doesn't even like being within ten feet of any woman he suspects is wearing panty hose, known in Australia as tights. He has dated many of Britain's most eligible women but understandably they find his fetish very entertaining at first and then it becomes very tedious because they are expected to sleep in their stockings."

"Here we have a published photograph of Lee's mother at a concert at Albert Hall recently, with her evening dress above her knees with Lee resting his head on her stockings while listening to a famous Dutch pianist. Before coming on air I surveyed twenty women in our studio and asked them if they thought Lee's fetish was objectionable. Only three did and they admitted they never wore stockings. I showed the remaining seventeen this photo in the Daily Telegraph of model Claire Cobb used by the newspaper to do a sting on the newly arrived Lee and asked would they date Lee. Here we show the seventeen ladies. Lee, if you are holed up and watching this, I can confirm here are seventeen ladies willing to date you but nine insist on their partners being included on the date. So there we have it: Lee Cobb is in town so lock up your daughters mothers – or at the very least confiscate their stockings."

"Get out of our house, your pervert," Kerri screamed.

"Shut up Kerri," Jill snapped. "Lee, your mother is absolutely gorgeous."

"Yeah, she's okay. Kerri, please understand. I admit having a fetish but it's a pretty tame one compared with many others. I worked for a business women's apparel division in my father's group of companies and since being there have been personally credited for lifting company sales of stockings by 780%. Stockings are currently making a huge comeback in Britain and France and I have appeared on TV shows in England, Ireland, France, Belgium, Germany, Italy, Canada and the US to explain my interest in stockings."

"So you are not a sex slave to women in stockings?"

"No, of course not. Kinky women scare me."

"Then I'm sorry I misjudged you."

"Lift your dress up and show me your stockings Kerri."

"I-I don't wear them."

"Oh Kerri."

"Me, me!" yelled her mother.

"Okay, lift up Jill."

"Wow, not bad. On a par with my mother's I would think."

"Claire."

Lee licked his lips. "God Claire, you should be in New York and perhaps Paris as a photographer's model for stockings."




Stocking Tops Pt. 04



Mrs Cobb?" called the cook, standing at the door.

"Yes Irma?"

"I've taken five calls from your best friends about whether Claire was home and I said yes. They are on their way over. There are another four messages to answer."

"Answer them Irma please and forget dinner tonight. We are about to have a huge party. Call in a couple of assistants and your sister and ask one of them to pick up four bags of ice. I think we are well stocked with everything else, aren't we."

"Yes ma'am."

Lee asked, "Are you wearing stockings Irma?"

"Yes sir."

Jill cut in, "Please show us to just above your stocking tops Irma."

"Yes ma'am."

Within ninety minutes more than seventy people had arrived and were delight to find a party in process. They (at least the women) had come to learn from Claire about meeting Mr Stocking Tops Peach and were beside themselves in excitement to meet Lee in person.

The liquor flowed and at 10:30 when Jill announced supper was ready she calmly unzipped and stepped out of her dress and invited all other women wearing stockings to follow her example.

No one moved until Kerri stepped forth and stepped out of her dress, wearing a pair of Claire's hold-ups. That unleashed a frenzy of women to undress to their underwear and many in tights rushed up to the Cobb women asking to borrow holdups. Irma and her assistants, dressed only in bras, panties, stockings and shoes arrived with the food.

Most of the partygoers didn't move off until sunrise, unhappy that Lee had disappeared early. He, of course, was only too happy to disappear with so many drunk and randy women around.

At 11:30 Royce had tapped Lee on the shoulder and took him aside. "Listen mate, some of these bitches are on heat and I reckon you won't survive the night. I have the ute (pickup) loaded with enough tucker (food) for a couple of days and beer in the refrigerated box, rifles, a couple of dogs, bedding and your clothes and one of my Akubras (Stetson) for you plus sunscreen. Unless you want every drop of sperm drained from your body and want your depleted balls chewed, I advise go out that door to the ute and wait for me. I'll brief Jill and give her the radio channel to call us tomorrow.

"I must say good night to Claire."

"Wouldn't advise it mate; she's one of the real horny ones."

Chapter 2

Royce and Lee left undetected. Royce said Jill had been relieved they were evacuating. "She reckoned she would have fucked you had you stayed. It's the wildest party we've had since New Year's Eve 2000 when we entered the new century."

"That's a relief, means I won't get thrown out the aircraft."

"Huh?"

"You know what you said..."

"Mate, that was a joke. You can fuck Jill. Christ, what are mates for?"

"I need a drink," Lee sighed, and was handed a flask of whisky.

They saw five dingoes (native wild dogs) that night caught in the headlights and Lee shot at all five, standing on the cargo box of the ute and firing with a spotlight attached, He missed them all but Royce, firing leading out the driver's door of the fast-moving vehicle shot and killed two of them despite obviously been more under the influence of liquor than Lee. 

Royce set up camp and they joked about Lee being such a rotten shot and Lee had to agree he looked more lethal with his head on his mum's knees, as shown on that TV news program than with a gun in his hand night shooting.

Jill radioed at 10:00 next morning, waking the guys. She sounded terrible but said they'd all had a wonderful night, even Claire."

"Even Claire – is she crook (sick)."

Jill sighed. "No darling. If your daughter brings home a guy to feast on him she doesn't expect him to run off with her dad."

"Just a moment...Lee, you aren't gay are you?"...No he ain't Jill, he just gave me the fingers (rude two-finger gesture)."

"We'll she's gone back to Sydney, hitching a ride with Doc Harris who was flying there for a medical seminar. I think Lee should go and wait at her apartment and apologize and give her what she wants."

"Which is...?"

"Go bury your head Royce Cobb. Over and out."

Royce asked had Lee caught the gist of that?

"Yeah, Claire is mad a me doing a runner and Jill thinks I should go to her and lick stockings?'

Royce grinned. "You pick up fast for a Pom (slang for Englishman). I'll switch channels to find what's cooking."

"Royce Cobb of Utopia Downs calling from up near Dry Creek. Have a mate needing a lift pronto to Sydney. Anyone assist?"

Thirty minutes later Royce had cut back across country to a sealed highway and when they arrived Rev Bill Bishop was waiting on the highway in his Cessna single prop, carrying the name 'The Flying Vicar'. Introductions were made, Lee said G'day mate, how's she going" and Lee and the Bill were off.

"Royce is a great joker. Um, salt of the earth."

"So they tell me mate."

Bill laughed and said it hadn't taken Lee long to catch the lingo (understand and speak local idiom). "How long have you been staying out here?"

Lee checked his watch. "Seventeen hours. I've been in Australia forty-three hours."

"Well, you're quick for a Pom, even though I'm one myself. I'm still not considered a local, having been here eleven years, but everyone calls me mate so that's acceptance enough. I have a meeting with the Bishop tonight. Rap over the knuckles. The Combined Churches have around 120 basic teaching centers for remote families throughout Aussie and I'm responsible for seven. We have been attracting Aboriginal kids of mixed blood families which is good but we are under-resourced and complaints have been coming to the Bishop from white families who are not too keen about their kids mixing with native kids who are not had the usual inoculations. There is a bit of racial discrimination but none of these problems if we get sufficient social workers to help work through the issues and to fill tutoring posts."

"Sounds a great initiative."

"Yes it is, helping kids who are falling through the cracks and to help isolated kids who have the mobile learning centers come to their localities and stay for some weeks. We have hit a bit of a wall with funding because of prolonged drought has left contributing farmers and communities a bit short of cash. If the rains come we will lift our game. The Bishop wants to go over our books because our deficit has alarmed the book-keepers."

"Well good luck."

When they landed Lee handed Bill $500.

"The flight was a freebie. I was coming this way."

"It's to go towards your learning centers but I am thinking of another way to perhaps raise more money for you in the city."

"Mention Aboriginals in the city and folk turn away Lee. Sorry."

"Well perhaps a Pom and some Aussie mates can come up with a fresh idea. Bill here's my phone number I'd like to keep in touch."

"Well mate, you have your sights set high if you thing you can raise big bucks. God Bless you and may you not be too disappointed. Are you attached to a church Lee?"

"No, sorry to disappoint."

"That's fine; you'll keep."

Lee had his hair cut, causing quite a commotion when he was recognized, but was out of there before any newspaper teams arrived. He then went shopping, purchasing clothes to make him look more like the better dressed Australian guys and the female shop assistants were only too pleased to help him select typical casual Aussie-style clothing. He soon found it wasn't rocket science because what was recommend were Aussie designs. 

It was almost 7:00 when he arrived at the apartment Claire shared with two other females and a guy. He knocked, holding four bottles of wine. A plump young woman opened the door and said "Oh God " and shrieked, "Claire!"

"Oh, it's you, "Claire said. "Well, since you're here you better come in. Get out of your jeans and into stockings Beth and Sheila, you too James."

"Up yours," said James and that almost answered for Lee the question was the male flat mate gay and did that suggest, after the initial shock, that Claire's humor was returning?

Introductions were made and the pink-faced Sheila and Beth went off to change.

"This shit about you," James said, coming to inspect the labels on the four bottles. "Is it true you fuck your mum?"

"No, I've never penetrated my mum and anything else I do is none of your business or do you want to make something of it?"

James puffed up his barrel chest and Lee thought oh shit.

Claire said, "Is that true, you have never fucked your mother?"

"Absolutely."

Claire glared at James, "Sit down Rambo before I slap you down."

The other two women returned, now wearing dresses.

"Okay girls, show James and me your stocking tops."

Beth and Sheila took hold of their hems and Sheila said, "Come on Claire, don't be a wet. This is fun."

"Yes Claire, get over and perform or I'll slap you one."

Everyone stared at Lee open mouthed. Claire was the last to close her mouth. She joined the other two women.

"Okay girls, show James and me your stocking tops."

The three women dutifully lifted their hems as high as they would go.

James looked as if he were in dolly heaven.

"Thank you girls. Beth you need to lose weight and go to the gym."

"Yes Lee."

"Sheila, neat pins but buy quality stockings. Those are crap."

"Yes Lee."

James and Claire had their mouths open again.

"Sheila, no one can ever tell you anything," Claire said, her brow puckered.

"Well, Lee is Mr Stocking Tops isn't he?" What other male do you know who's an authority on stockings?

"Ah yes. Any advice for me?"

"When you come to bed at my hotel tonight wear your stockings."

"Yes Lee."

Lee said could they sit at the table and drink wine because he'd like to pick their brains. And then he'd like to take everyone out to dinner. 

* * *

Claire's flat mate James worked in graphics for the Channel 7 network, Beth worked in advertising and Sheila was a business consultant. Have those skills and positions available to him sent Lee's mind into organizational mode but something with even more impact followed.

It all seemed to happen, being the wine of course. After two glasses of a Margaret River white Beth climbed on to the table, amid concern about what was she up to and that changed to laugher when she pulled up her hem and crowed, "Stocking Tops Day Australia." 

When she climbed down no one was laughing.

"Jesus," Lee said. "That concept is brilliant."

Claire agreed but became mother: "We are getting pissed on empty stomachs. Let's go out and eat and continue discussing the concept."

Half-baked idea suggestions followed with enough substance to encourage James to call a high-powered promotions executive at Channel 7 who was in a spa pool with her lover.

She didn't know who James Krug was but when he said he could deliver Mr Lee Stocking Tops Peach for an exclusive interview on Channel 7, everyone around James crowded closer to listen and heard the woman gasp. "He's the biggest sensation in Sydney right now and no one can get a finger on him."

"Brigit have you heard of the Combined Churches' provision of a network of learning centers throughout remote parts of Australia where federal and state educational facilities are unable to service?"

"Yeah, in a bit of strife over insufficient funding and the network could collapse, or so I've heard."

"Well darling, in return for the exclusive interview we want Channel 7 to undertake to promote a nation-wide stocking tops day when women stand by a public mail box around noon, post their $5 minimum donation to the Combined Churches' rural learning centers appeal, and then expose their stocking tops for five seconds."

"God, what a laugh."

"Exactly. And we have Mr Lee Stocking Tops Peach to build the campaign around, He believes he can entice his mom to show her stocking tops on TV on the eve of the Friday appeal day and we have a model with the most beautiful legs I've ever seen who has agreed to allow her legs right up to the crotch to be used for campaign publicity purposes."

"Well, go fuck a fence post, this has success plastered all over it James. If the promotion is done professionally we'll raise a million bucks. I'll look after that. Be in my office at 8:00 in the morning with that handsome naughty boy from London. I have something big and throbbing in my hand darling, must go. Kiss-kiss."

* * *

Claire, eyes smoldering, lay on the bed in the hotel and said, "Please do exactly what you do to your mother, dear Lee."

They had warmed up on the short walk from the restaurant, kissing and groping a little.

Claire licked her lips as Lee crouched at her feet, a menacing harpoon thrusting out between his legs. He began sucking the big toe on her left foot. She attempted to pull away but he held firm and moved across to lightly chew at her smaller toes. Claire began to relax and her eyes remained fixed on him as her hand pushed across a breast and she moaned. As if that was the signal, Lee began licking up the inside of her left leg and as he reached the knee he lifted the leg high and nibbled behind her knee joint. She squirmed and moaned and pulled up a breast and licked at the nipple, her eyes fixed on him and growing large and the gaps between blinking lengthened.

Her frown disappeared as Lee lowered the leg and left behind a sexy strip of saliva that appeared to be a roadway under construction that presumably would end at her cunt. But not to be. Minutes later, with Claire tossing her head from side to side after Lee had soaked the front of her stocking tops on both legs and lightly chewed at the flesh bulges at the top of them, he lifted.

"That's what I do to my mother."

"Oh God, you can't leave me like this. Oh your poor mother."

"She knows the rules – she uses her fingers."

Claire dunked three fingers into her soaking pussy and called, "No, no. Don't you dare move away. I want cock and lots of it."

"What this old neglected thing," Lee teased, pulling at it. "I'm off to the bathroom to splatter the bowl."

"No, no. I want, I want. Oh Lee, don't upset me and make me cry. Oh darling, please – just slide it in gently and I'll do the rest."

"Okay then, guide it in."

Claire shot up into sitting position and with one hand grabbing his erection and the other seizing a huge handful of his hair, she pulled him to her, Lee having to shuffle forward to avoid having a premature bald spot on his head through a very desperate young woman removing a handful of it by the roots.

Within two hours they'd fucked themselves asleep.



A knock on the hotel room door at 7:40 brought Lee tip-toeing out. It had been arranged he'd accompany James to talk to Brigit at Channel 7. 

She greeted them cordially as she seated them and when she went to sit Lee called, "Just a second Brigit – show us your stocking tops."

"Hell will freeze over you cheeky Pom before I do that for anyone but my lover."

"Does he ever ask?"

Brigit hesitated before saying no.

"Well then?"

She remained standing but made no move to reach for her hem.

"Brigit, we intend presenting your TV channel with a huge project that will tie your tits in a knot in excitement. Just show us your stocking tops and let's get on with this."

The executive, aged about forty, pulled up her hem.

"Right up till your hand hits below your tits Brigit."

"Thank you," Lee said, holding back a grin. "That was lovely. I apologize for not asking you to stop just above your stocking tops but how was I to know you weren't wearing panties? Loved the shape of pussy. Obviously you look after it well."

Brigit slipped into her chair, somewhat dazed.

"Essentially this project is to raise a million bucks for these learning centers in sparsely settled fringes out towards the real Outback. Done properly by Channel 7, it is likely you could win the annual TV Industry award for best community project and the Government could toss in a big commendation as well. Thanks for your time Brigit. James, our project director, will now outline the proposal in detail."

James was only two minutes into his presentation when Brigit stopped him to make some calls. She stood and said, "Let's go for a quick coffee and pie. We have twenty minutes before I front you guys before the full executive board. Please don't ask to see stocking tops Lee because at least a couple of guys are deviants and may be wearing stockings under their long pants."

Everyone was excited about the project until the director of promotions said the promotional budget was already over-spent. The mood of the meeting collapsed until Lee, winking at James, said, "What a shame, I guess we'll have to take our project to your biggest rival, Channel 9."

Horror on the faces of executives and their assistants had everyone sitting with a straight back and at that moment James said smoothly, "Why don't you guys get the main stockings distributors in Australia to unite to co-sponsor the event but staying in the background until 12:05 on Stocking Tops Friday when they and their retailers can unleash a massive promotion of stockings?"

* * *

Fifty-year-old former Australian swimming superstar Natalie Fellows conducted the hastily and hugely promoted interview with Mr Lee Stocking Tops Peach on Channel 7 at 7:30 that evening.

Lee walked into the studio with live audience wearing a white suit, no shirt, white boots and a black Akubra. The audience roared in delight and he opened the interview by saying, "I acquired this 'at today to look like an Australian but the guy doubled the price and said, 'Here you are you slimy Pom, you're the guy who is over the top about stockings, ain't you? I said no, I just have the normal male interest in stockings. If you don't have that interest you are likely to turn gay. I left him with his mouth hanging open. He forgot to take my money. Natalie darling, you are a honey. I had five minutes with Natalie before she went on stage. Stop laughing. Gawd you Australians have filthy minds. Actually she was asking me about my mother. Show us your stocking tops Natalie."

"What? Are you mad? I'm a grandmother and having been a swimmer have large thighs."

"That's the thing about stockings Nat. They even make big thighs look good. As you Aussies say, "Be a sport. Get your ass off that expensive chair and stand over here by me. That's it, now slowly hoist. This good natured crowd will support you because to an Aussie a champion is a champion for life."

Natalie slowly hoisted to reveal the expensively manufactured stockings Lee had given her before coming into the theater. They changed in color from black to an increasingly bright shade of red from mid-thigh up and were decorated at the top with stick-on kangaroos. The straps of her suspenders were black and decorated with rhinestones. 

She looked impressive and the studio audience cheered and hollered. 

Natalie kissed Lee on the cheek and led him to his chair and conducted one of her best-ever interviews.

It concluded with Natalie saying, "Before you return home in disgrace Lee, how do you plan to spend your time in Australia?"

"Well, I hope to spend some time with country friends who have this stunning daughter called Claire and...

"You mean Claire Cobb, the model with fabulous legs to die for?"

"Possibly but my gaze and mind haven't got past the stockings yet."

"I'm gullible enough to believe you. Please continue."

"Well, the other thing concerns stockings and I reckon it's going to blow the minds of Australia, and all in a good cause. Just watch this space. I can't say anymore at this stage but I'll show stockings to you in huge numbers beyond the comprehension of all you people here today and it briefly will publicize Australia as the self-proclaimed stockings capital of the world, and all in a good cause that is not me."

"Thank you Mr Lee Stockings Tops Peach. I heard on the grapevine you have secured Channel 7 to help with your project. You have given me my most enjoyable half-hour on television and I'm sure you in our studio audience will have appreciated Lee. A few last words from your Lee.




Stocking Tops Pt. 04



The cameras followed Lee as he went to the front of the stage and cried, "Show us your stocking tops ladies." As the credits rolled at least half the women in the mainly female audience lifted their hems amid great laughter and some very red faces.

James took Lee and Claire to the Daily Telegraph newspaper for interview. Lee dressed in jeans, a blue netting shirt, sunnies perched on his forehead and was wearing flip-flopping wearing the Australian footwear almost regarded as a national treasure, Jandals. He held a pencil. Claire had undressed for the photograph to be wearing a blue and white bustier, a blue thong and white stockings.

James then left with Claire for the airport. She had a modeling assignment in Melbourne. Lee stayed to talk to Gwen the reporter. She whispered to Lee, "I'm wearing stockings" and the reply was he didn't believe her so had his hand seized and pushed between her legs. The thirty-year-old mother of two gurgled and dug into her handbag for tissues. They met again in Lee's room mid-afternoon and spent a couple of hours mucking around until he placed the exhausted woman into a cab to pick up her children from school, a task she shared every other day with her husband.

The page three sensational photo of Claire with Lee in the 'Tele' next morning was all the upcoming fund-raising project could ask for. The headline screamed, 'Our Sexy Man Resurfaces'. The story stated Mr Lee Stocking Tops Peach had consented to give the 'Telegraph' an exclusive about his mystery project he claimed would rock Australia to its core.

Mr Peach: "It centers on pencils and the like and stocking tops. It will be sexy and fun and everyone will want to be in. That's all I can say until we are ready to announce complete details."

Reporter Gwen Cave: Are you expecting to raise $1 million dollars? 

Mr Peach: No comment. 

Gwen: Is this a planned huge rip-off of Australians?

Mr Peach: That's typical of the media to twist the truth like that, isn't it? 

Gwen: What is the truth?"

Mr Peach: God, you could twist an arm off a statue. No comment. Do you wear stockings?

Gwen: Mr Peach!

Mr Peach: That ends this interview. Ponder about the connection between stocking tops and pencils and the like.

Lee wrote to his mother, outlining the project, and invited her to Australia to assist with the pre-launch. A few minutes later he took a call from Jill checking up on his welfare and saying she and Royce were in the city. They could pick him up and take him back home with him if that's what he wanted. He said yes, packed and went down and paid his hotel bill.



CHAPTER 3

The project planning group had agreed with Lee's suggestion to allow his mother to announce the project on her arrival at the airport. The timing of the airport press conference would allow Channel 7 to broadcast the interview live feeding directly into its breakfast show Sunrise some time between 6 and 9, depending on the arrival time of Vicky's flight. The channel would then unleash it's national newscast for ten minutes every two hours on the half hour all day Thursday through to 11:30 and on Friday, Stockings Top Day, from 5.30 am through to 11:30. Media advertising throughout Australia had also been arranged, sponsored by the Stockings Network of Australia. The police, civic authorities and social services had been advised of the arrangements and the Combined Churches had given their written consent to the project, mindful of the event's somewhat controversial nature, and acknowledged that it would be the beneficiary of all money raised, net of incidental expenses. 

Everything was set to go. On the previous Saturday James had leaked sketchy details of the project to the Sunday newspapers complete with a photograph of Claire and some of her fellow models showing their stocking tops. As hoped for, the media choked itself with speculations that ranged from women throughout Australia being asked to join hands with a pencil between their lips and wearing only stocking tops to a swinging new stage show called Stocking Tops that would include the principal characters having sex on-stage, naked.

Cries of shame came from pulpits on that Sunday morning and morality groups throughout Australia were writing letters to the Prime Minister asking for direct intervention 'to stop this moral decline that would catapult Australia into the cesspit of the world.'

Just as James and his advisers predicted, media representatives from throughout the world sensed something big was about to happen and began arriving, uninvited, in Australia throughout that week and in many countries including Australia the manufacturers of pantyhose/tights/leotards published advertisements declaring stockings were dead, the body-cladding sculpture of pantyhose/tights/leotards with their exquisite femininity were much preferred.

In retaliation, the stockings industry published full-page ads of women wearing sacks with the huge heading proclaiming: 'You wouldn't look like this if you wore stockings.'

The media conference was jammed as to polite applause Lee Peach came on-stage wearing his white suit, no shirt, white boots, sunglasses and black Acubra.

"Hi guys, thanks for showing up. Show me your stockings girls."

The woman of the media was ready for this. Someone shouted 'One, Two, Three' and skirts and dresses were flipped up, to wolf whistles, cheers and jeers from male and butch journalists, all of that being broadcast live throughout Australia on breakfast TV with radio broadcasters chatting their heads off.

"My mother is my favorite woman in all of Great Britain. You may know she wears stockings, always has, and from an infant I played with her stockings, developed a fetish about stockings over the years and I still play with stockings. My mother has just the greatest legs even today and I don't even have to plea for you to make allowance for age. She's 53 and is my idea of the ultimate mom. Everyone, will you please welcome Victoria Peach who comes direct from London.

The cheers died to sighs of disbelief as Victoria loped out waving. Her blonde hair was up in a French roll and she wore swim goggles and a granny print dress that went over the tops of her black ankle boots.

"Hi everybody, what's up? I'm only dressed like this because I was warned about the pesky flies in Australia."

"Show us your stocking tops Vicky," yelled a cameraman.

Victoria cupped her ear.

"Show us your stocking tops Vicky," yelled the media.

Victoria let her hair down, threw her goggles aside and ripped her dress asunder and threw that aside. She was left standing in a black cami with a wide lace hem that came to an inch below her crotch. She wore black holdups with thick lacy tops and black ankle boots.

She looked gorgeous.

The media clapped warmly and she curtsied.

"I'm here to support my dear son to launch a fund-raising day tomorrow that is expected to sweep throughout Australia at noon. It is called Stocking Tops Day Australia. There you go, but first we want to show you just five slides on the big screen. Lee, please bring in superhero, the Flying Vicar of the Near Outback."

"Hi again everyone," said Lee. "Thirty-three hours after arriving in Australia I hitched a ride into Sydney with the Rev Bill Bishop known as the flying vicar who tends his out flung flock and as well has responsibility for coordinating seven of 120 learning centers for kids living nowhere near Government and fee-taking private schools. Bill mentioned he was on his way to see the Bishop and expected a rap over the knuckles because his accounts were in deficit. He told me about the Big Dry had cut through voluntary donations, hitting the ability of these inspirational learning centers from restocking their permanent and mobile resource centers and having to reduce staff. It wasn't a sob story but it made me feel like crying. So a small idea sprang to mind on how I could help. More about that in five minutes. Take it away Bill – Bill flew me to two of these learning centers last month after the Combined Churches' Organization that runs these centers approved of the Stocking Tops fund-raising project."

Bill showed the five slides that indicated the work of the learning centers and read quotes from the center managers describing how the Big Dry had dried up voluntary funding. "Six weeks ago I responded to a radio call to pick up a hitchhiker wanting to get to Sydney in a hurry. The only strip out there near Dry Creek was on a sealed highway but I landed and look off without scaring any motorists because none were passing at that time. My passenger was this guy beside me, two days after arriving from England. I arrived from England nine years ago and was a big cagey about talking to a greenhorn Pom. But he said 'G'day Mate, how's she going', and I knew I had a keen learner beside me. He confided he knew a lot about stockings but not much about Australia and then he was asking me these questions about what our learning centers wanted. I said pencils, rubbers, boxes of paper, crayons, reading books, sticky tape. He interrupted me and said, "I think I'm coming up with an idea of how to get you a million pencils."

"I laughed. He said just tell your Bishop you've met a git who's going to get your Combined Churches organization a million pencil equivalents to stock up its learning centers to last until the rains come and the regular voluntary contributors can afford to dip into their pockets again."

Lee handed the Rev Bill a pair of very dark glasses. "Pop them on Bill for the good of your heath. Oh Claire," he shouted. 

Claire came out wearing a dazzling red bustier, red thong, red hold-ups and red shoes with six-inch heels and carrying a huge pencil of her height. 'This is my adopted Australian mom's daughter Claire Cobb from out Dry Creek way. Mom, announce the Big Day details."

Victoria said a full-page advertisement of Claire and her friends would appear in all newspapers tomorrow morning. Throughout today and tomorrow, TV ads would announce Stocking Tops Day Australia would be held throughout the country tomorrow between noon and 12:30 when women – and guys if they wished – would post a minimum donation of $5 to the Combined Churches' Learning Center Appeal of Australia. 

"As the donors post their donation they are invited to show their stocking tops for five seconds. Of course any exhibitionists can keep on making donations and lift their dress again. We want donors to wear their best stockings and be adequately covered you all know where. We have persuaded the newly formed Stockings Network of Australia representing commercial interests associated with stockings to underwrite all of our advertising costs. My son and his newly acquired friends and friends of friends and our close friend Channel 7 TV working on this project will not receive a cent out of donations. Churches associated with the Combined Churches' Organizations will supply volunteers to clear the mail deposited by security vans collected from Australian Post. Banks will provide staff to accept deposits and providing banking security. This has been a tremendous difficult project to keep the lid on it, with hundreds of people involved, but we've done it. We close now by asking Claire and her five friends similarly dressed to come on stage and treat you by dancing the 'Can Can'. Thank you everyone.

Lee called: "Refreshments will be served at the conclusion of the dance, there are press kits available for everyone and we'll take questions over a drink. Thanks for turning out you guys and everyone watching TV turn out on the streets at midday tomorrow to watch the fun." 



CHAPTER 4

The Daily Telegraph and Sydney Morning Herald published stories next morning with photographs of Lee with his arms about Victoria and Claire and the Rev Bill Bishop in his dark glasses talking to Claire in her stockings and bustier. They also ran their own version of the handout stating the campaign center would be in Martin Place, Sydney where Australian Post would have five 18-wheelers with postal slots cut high on their sides and lined up on the far side of a stage allowing the donors to face the crowd in the street watching the showing of stocking tops. Journalist on both newspapers commented sagely the appeal was bound to 'bomb' because while it was novel young women had been given too little time to prepare for the event.

Well, how wrong can you be?

The first half of the news on Channel 7 that evening was devoted to the 'most sensational public appeal in Australia since the early years of World War 2'.

Extra police were rushed into many city centers to control the crowds. Australia Post urgently called in retired staff to handle avalanches of mail. Riot Police were called in to haul away drunken louts spoiling the occasion in Martin's Place, Sydney.

Reporters crowed that not only had young women turned up their dresses after making donations but also school girls, grandmothers some great grandmothers and the male gays were out in force as were hunks in football gear wearing stockings and everywhere traffic was in chaos as motorists jammed streets trying to get to a mail box to jump out, post their donation and flash their legs.

"Australia never has had such a fun day," concluded the female presenter, looking highly excited.

"Did you post and flash?" asked the male news presenter.

"Yes."

"Flash for us now."

Obviously rehearsed, she jumped on to her desk and hauled up her hem and held it under her chin.

"Wendy, architecturally you are magnificent and here for several years I have sat beside you in ignorance," said the male reader.

"That's the normal situation with a male," said Wendy.

"Thank you nasty Wendy. Oh, that exhibition will cost you another donation. And now for the normal news of strikes, parliamentary bickering, murders and mayhem..."

Wendy looked at her screen and broke in: "Here's a news flash coming in from the Bankers' Association. Stocking Tops appeal deposits have just passed $580,000 and with mail deliveries in chaos from estimates supplied by Australia Post on volumes it is projected that today's vast public appeal will raise at least $3 million for the Combined Churches' remote located learning centers network. This is a proud day for Australia, a great day for stockings but we are so thrilled to see those little kids on the fringes of the Outback benefiting to this extent. Lee Stocking Tops Peach, what a hero. This is Wendy Parrish, Channel 7 News, signing off," said Wendy, smiling and showing her stocking tops again.

* * *

The Channel 7-sponsored dinner that evening was attended by principal organizers, the Bishop and his wife represented the Combined Churches, the Rev Bill Bishop and his wife. After cocktails and dinner came the speeches, cut to two minutes a person and any woman who spoke had to flash. Victoria was invited to speak first and although brought the house down, as they say, when she said, "The last twenty-four hours has left me with a magnificent impression of Australia. Thank you and thank your Dear Australians for giving me this opportunity to flash." 

When Lee took the microphone he said would the people he called please stand. 

"First the Rev Bill Bishop, known as the Flying Vicar. I hitched a flight with Bill and we got talking about the seven learning centers he was responsible for in the network of 120 administered by the Combined Churches. As I left him at the airport in Sydney the idea of raising money publicly for those remote learning centers was bouncing around in my head."

"Claire Cobb. Claire was hired by a newspaper to set me up for a sneaky story to blow my attempt to live unnoticed for a while in Sydney. She later felt guilty and came back to me to hand me over her fee. I said no, she took me home to sanctuary at her parents' place and now we are lovers."

James Krug. Employed by a very flexible advertising agency, James was given heaps of time on pay to attend to our needs and performed hugely in getting the campaign started and running. We rewarded that advertising company by making it responsible for the creation and placement of all campaign advertising."

"Sheila Smith and Beth Aitkin. These two girls are flat mates with Claire and James and they showed me their stocking tops, giving me the idea if we could get enough women flashing and paying a fee for the privilege we might rake in some moneys to help fund the learning centers. We owe a debt to Beth – we were all going well in wine when she drunkenly climbed on to the table, flashed and said 'Stocking Tops Day Australia'. Suddenly Sheila, James, Claire, Beth and I were no longer laughing. A bell had sounded and we had a concept forming."

"Brigit Mason. Brigit is a senior exec at Channel 7. James called he and she told him to hurry because she was in a spa with someone and something needed attention. James delivered his pitch. His flat mates and I listened, holding our breath. Brigit responded with words that told us James had rung her bell. James and I met her early next morning and Brigit opened doors that gave this appeal the horsepower it needed."

"Everyone, please give these few people a standing ovation. Many of you have helped in the project, and magnificently so, but these people were the initial shakers and movers."

At that moment Lee's phone went. He looked to see who the caller was and announced, "Standby everyone, it's the Bankers' Association. If we have topped one million my mother Victoria Peach has ordered two bottles of French champagne per table at her expense. Little wonder I lick her stockings. Here we go..."

"Lee Peach...okay, Lee Stocking Tops Peach...Hi Mr Worthington...What!...That's simply amazing...Right, you're closing down for the night but they are still counting in Western Australia...Yes it is fantastic news...Thank you for your courtesy call and good night to you."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I've just being blown away. Processing has stopped for the night in all states except Western Australia. The chairman of the Bankers Association Jim Worthington said the donations range from five bucks up to fifteen hundred. As at a few minutes ago the total money flowing into the banking system in the name of the appeal...oh dammit, excuse me Lee said, wiping at both eyes with his hands...was $3,160,750 with possibly another million yet to be counted."

People yelled and begin kissing or hugging people next to them, the dance bank struck up 'For He's a Jolly Good Fellow' and Lee was seated on a chair picked up by four guys and carried around the room.

Later dancing with Claire, Lee invited her to sleep with him that night and asked if she had lots of bookings.

"No, it's rather slack right now. Most of my work is swimsuits and it's unseasonable to promote them right now. So it's down to the occasional request from an advertising agency wanting a leggy model, which in my agency is me."

"Could you take off a month, starting tomorrow?"

"Yes, I suppose so. I'd need to talk to my principal. What do you have in mind?"

"I'm booked to fly back to England tomorrow and invite you to come with me, at my expense for a month. I wish to find where my future is. If it's not in England it is here. I'd like you to be really exposed to me and at the end of the day to decide whether you'd say yes if I asked you to marry me."

"Christ, this is a bit sudden. No wait, ask me now."

"No, please, I want a marriage, if I am to have one, to last. It would be great if you could come with me. Victoria is staying in Australia for six weeks and Jill and Royce are flying in tomorrow to pick her up and fly her home for a week or so and then she and Jill drive to Melbourne and on to Adelaide and then returning on an inland route so mother can see the real Australia. After they return to the farm, Royce intends taking them as far north as Cairns. So I need to be at the airport at 11:00 when they arrive to collect mom to say goodbye to all of them."




Stocking Tops Pt. 04



"I need to be there as well as I've been rather out of touch, what with that job down in Melbourne that went all wrong but they fixed that by hiring another photographer. Now I remember mum saying she couldn't wait to meet your mom."

"I don't want Victoria to know I am returning to England. She'll want to be there when I confront dad and I don't think that's a great idea."

"Very well – what about the appeal?"

"I've asked James to take over as chairman of the appeal trust so we visit the trust's lawyer tomorrow at 3:00 to sign over the position and transfer authorities."

The dance ended and Claire stepped back and looked at the brash Englishman intently. "I bring this up again with no apologies and your answer determines my future relationship with you. Your most unusual relationship with your mom worries me. I must know..."

"Have I ever fucked my mom? Of course not, I have too much respect for her to make her the victim of incest. I'm telling you, I have never fucked my mother and will not, ever."

"Hush," Claire said, cheeks burning. "People can hear us. I confirm I regard you highly as a desirable man to have in my life."

"Fine. We have a month to get that sorted. You're decided to come with me, haven't you?"

"Yes, I'll resign from the agency tomorrow. I want a clean break. The contract is almost due for renewal so I should not have to pay anything for defaulting before it expires. I'll call Sheryl first thing in the morning."

Claire and Lee reached bed almost out on their feet so come together in less than satisfactory carnal connection. Lee managed to say something lovely that filled her heart with the feeling called pride but perhaps in this case it was love.

"For the first time in my life I can honestly say although these are smallish breasts, I love this particular pair of breasts."

They both awoke with hangovers and while Lee was showering Claire called the managing director of New Century Model Agency. Lee emerged from the bathroom without an erection. That pleased Claire; she really did have a headache.

"Darling...sorry...I cannot go to London with you right now."

"That's fine. Are you never coming to London or is this simply a deferral?"

"God you are so calm. My agency booked me yesterday for the 10-day Melbourne Spring Fashion show. I could walk away without the thousands of dollars I'll earn but Sheryl reminded me I'm under contract."

"I understand. But you'll come to the airport to see your parents meet my mother and fly her away?"

"Of course, I'll spend all day with you and cry you off at the International Airport this evening when you leave for London. I'll miss you. The fashion show is late next month and I am booked to replace a model booked almost a year ago. So it's a two-month separation. I'll endure it, will you?"

"Yes, you are still little more than a friend to me; we need time to develop a bond." 

Claire smiled and said he'd keep.

"There is no one else in my sights Claire. I've never met a female other than my mother who feels so right for me."

"Oh God, get in the bed and wait while I pull on my stockings."



CHAPTER 5

Alfred Peach, tired after the annual Tripe and Onions Feast at one of his clubs the previous evening followed by sharing with three other members the club's in-house prostitute also known as the dinning room manager, blinked several times as he entered the breakfast room at Langford Manor.

Someone was sitting on his chair.

"Lee?"

"Good morning father."

"You're in England?"

"Yes father. Sit down and get some breakfast into you. You look dreadful."

"Get out of my place."

"There are seven other chairs at this table. Help yourself."

"I want my chair."

"Is your last nanny still alive father? I'll call her to handle your imminent tantrum."

Albert thin and stooped at five foot eleven, attempted to straighten, his blotched face and bloodshot eyes making him appear rather repulsive. He snarled at his six foot four son with his hair how bleached stone blond and curled: "Move or I'll have you thrown out."

"Dad, you only have the cook Mrs Anthony, your sexy new housekeeper, your chauffeur and two gardeners, all females. But attempt to throw me out and it's war."

Albert sat down beside his son. "Where's your mother?"

"Dad, get a grip. You mean Victoria your wife don't you."

"I stand corrected."

Lee checked his watch. "About now in a huge farmhouse out from Sydney getting ready for bed after dinning and drinking with Jill Cobb whose husband owns a huge farm and runs his private airline. The Cobbs are the parents of a young women keen to marry me."

"Well that's a relief you have been consorting with women other than your mother in Australia. Oh, Paula was heartbroken when you publicly fucked Lady Stables and just escaped jail. She married the first guy who proposed, a traffic warden who began the affair after letting her off the parking infringement. He's the third son of an earl."

"Good for her. She lacked style so he may be good for her. Here come your eggs."

"I didn't want two eggs this morning."

The cook said, "Well just leave one."

"Father, say thank you to Mrs Anthony."

"Up your bum."

"Mr Peach, how dare you speak to your son like that. No wonder you are still waiting for your knighthood. Retract at once."

"No."

"Then I'm calling old Nanny Wisegate to come and box your ears!"

"Son, I apologize for speaking irreverently."

"Thank you father and now thank Mrs Anthony for your eggs and apologize for not feeling chipper this morning because of your excesses from last night."

Alfred sat defiantly, mouth closed tightly.

Lee sighed and asked Mrs Anthony to call Nanny Wisegate.

Alfred turned and smiled at the cook. "Thank you Mrs Anthony for these beautifully cooked and presented eggs and I apologize for not feeling chipper this morning because I over ate and played up last night."

"Good boy Mr Peach. We at Langford Manor are very proud of you."

Egg dripping off his chin, Albert said, "I suppose you want me to fire Paula and you take her place?"

"No."

"You want to take over from her mother Charlene or her grandmother Martha?"

"No."

"Then what do you want?"

"For you to unseat someone on the board of Peach Textiles PLC and announce me as the replacement with responsibility for special projects and provide me with an office in good premises in Bond Street with room for a plush meeting room and office space for a staff of five and an annual budge of £10 million."

"Impossible, the board would think I'd lost my marbles."

"Okay, I still want that seat on the board and want you to set up a company with me, each of us holding 49% of stock and Victoria holding 2% and with you providing the capital at low interest of £2 million."

"Very well. So she's Victoria and not mummy now?"

"Yes, and with me now thirty-two, people look horrified when I call her mummy."

"Well that I approve. I'll have my lawyers set up the company today and will inject the funding."

"Aren't you going to ask what I'll do with the money?"

"Why should I? You have proven you have a nose for business, hold a degree in business administration and are not so thick not to know that I'll disown you again if you lose my investment."

"Thanks dad. It's great having you are so supportive. Like your chair back?"

"No, I have a great view from here of my two gardeners bending over."

Lee set up his offices on the third floor of former banking chambers in New Bond Street. The lease also included the ground and first floor and he had to buy the tenants out. He engaged an executive search firm to find a business manager to run the office and activities and ended up hiring the consultant assigned to him, Faye Farrah.

Faye had everything Lee liked about women: big tits and she was rarely out of stockings. Um, she was also good looking with a fine figure and beside a good brain and business sense probably greater than his and was also very sexy. God, when Claire arrived from Australia she'd have him fire Lady Faye Farrah but fortunately Faye had a devoted banker as a husband so perhaps Claire might not command him to swing the axe.

Lee being Lee took Faye to dinner and invited her back to his apartment he'd taken in the City.

"You're the chappie infamous for his stockings fetish aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Okay I'll go to your apartment but only to talk business."

"Of course, we don't share any other interest."

Faye looked at him raising an eyebrow.

They talked business. Lee said the City appeared very busy and Faye said yes. Lee then asked her to flash. Faye help up her hem and swallowed.

"Very nice. Please removed your skirt and sprawl on the bed if you'd like your stocking tops licked."

"Yes daddy."

That dutiful reply immediately stiffened Lee from flaccid to rutting mode.

He exposed his erection. Lady Farrah's eye doubled in size and she began sucking her thumb, looking expressionlessly as Lee expertly undid her top and freed the bovine-like breasts the English took centuries to develop in size and great shape, breeding for larger mass with refinements being added to shape with the invention of the modern bra by Mary Phelps Jacob in 1910.

Lee licked up the stockings. He sniffed a little BO but she was English, so he accepted that. In fact he preferred the nitty-gritty to the American custom of sanitizing the toilet seat and every thing else so kissing behind the ears of a chest-heaving American woman was perhaps a little like burying one's nose into a sterilization trough in a hospital operating theater.

Faye jerked and her release soaked through her panties. Lee sunk his teeth into the piled up flesh above the stocking tops, taking care not to bruise or to draw blood, but only just stopping short of that.

"Oh God, fuck me," she whined and at that Lee knew he had the key to the chambers of the Golden City. He wasn't sure want that meant but knew he had the green light to shove it up her channel.

Lee did that very well. Faye screamed and creamed herself into nervous exhaustion and arriving home only then realized she's consented to resigning from her job search position and becoming Lee's business manager. Well, at least if the work wasn't a challenge at least she'd be fucked properly.

But the job was a challenge and Faye went home most nights without the strength to move her ass overly much when her recently acquired husband fucked her but she gushed so had no complaint from him.

Faye had to seek building approval and other consents to gut the two lower floors and have the dome of the former banking chamber penetrating through the first level expanded by twenty feet. The building owners and civic authorities were only concerned that the structure was adequately reinforced during that work and the Heritage protected exterior of the building remained untouched.

As opening evening approached Faye didn't have time to even fuck Lee. She had to recruit saleswomen to be called receptionists and they not only had to look great but to have great bodies as well. She recruited mainly English-speaking young French women.

Faye argued that Lee simply could not ask her to invite the Queen to open a small commercial undertaking, that it simply was not cricket (just not done) so he compromised and said invite the Prime Minister to perform the opening. Faye gave up and sent off the invitation and to her amazement the PM's wife wrote back personally and accepting the invitation on her husband's behalf and promised to have him roll up on the night.

* * *

Every second day Lee took a call from Victoria and his sweetheart. Victoria was delighted Albert had given Lee a seat on the board of Peach Textiles PLC and hoped that would lead to a seat on the board of Peach Group. Lee had mentioned he and his father were involved in the formation of a company to run certain ventures that caught Lee's whim.

"For God sake Lee, don't lose money or he'd have you terminated."

"There's no show of that happening Victoria. Listen, Claire doesn't fancy me sniffing around your stocking tops. While we are separated like this, do you think we could wean ourselves of that practice?"

"I suppose so; there are plenty of your father's friends who'd be only too happy to substitute."

"Mum, your grandchildren wouldn't appreciate grandma's stocking tops being suckled by nasty-looking old men."

"Oh God, you are thinking of marrying Claire?"

"Please don't say anything or hint anything to anyone. I have to give Claire a month in London before she is competent to judge between England or Australia and to totally commit to me and my strange ways."

"Yes, quite right. I'll keep your little secret. Oh God, her legs are as good as mine. Just imagine what you two will breed?"

"Frogs?''

"Goodbye Lee," his mother said stiffly and called Claire to the phone.

Claire once again burbled on about how well the mothers were getting on. "They are just like sisters but without the scrapping."

She demanded, "Are you missing me?"

"Yeah lots."

"Say you are missing me."

"I'm missing you."

"To what extent?"

"Lots."

"Oh that's wonderful. You are making me wet. Be sure to get an adequate amount of sex."

"Okay, bye."

"No, wait. I have signed for another assignment just two days before my contract expires so will be a month later coming to England. It's in New Zealand for its fashion week and mum and Victoria are coming with me."

"You call her Victoria?"

"Yes, she wants me to think of her as my older sister. It's her way of keeping young and I thoroughly approve."

"Really? Well I consent to you delaying your arrival by one more month, but no longer, do you hear?"

"Yes master."



CHAPTER 6

The City hadn't seen anything like it since the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth 2. Searchlights rose above London's night and ten restored aircraft from World War 2 flew over, dipping their wings. 

The curious media had turned out en-masse, their invitations simply stating, "Lee Stocking Tops Peach announces his return into London society in a most spectacular fashion and perhaps winning back the women who despised him for bonking a titled woman on Public Ground beside the Palace of Westminster last year. You shall not be disappointed and there will be free drinks even for the media."

It was the reference to free drinks that did it. Reporters and columnists competed to get one of the limited invitations.

In front of the premises in New Bond Street, hidden behind red, white and blue bunting, guarded by security guys holding fake light machine guns, Lee and Faye emerged through the entrance as the motorcade escorting the Prime Minister and his wife in their beloved 1935 MG sports car arrived. Faye was in a blue designer dress and Lee was in his now customary white suit, no shirt, white boots and black Acubra and a red carnation in his buttonhole. As the PM and Toni looked up at the façade of the building the bunting dropped and they were facing a very elaborate shop front called, The Temple of Stockings.

The crowd on the streets clapped and cheered at the unveiling and Lee and Faye escorted the Prime Minister and his wife into the building where other guests were already gathered. Toni whispered to Lee, "Although I am the wife of the Prime Minister I can reveal I am wearing stockings and will flash if you call upon me to do so."

"No and thank you ma'am, I will spare you of that embarrassment and risk being castigated in parliament."

"Oh, you disappoint me young man. But what you say makes sense."

TV camera crews had been allowed into the temple earlier and on late news bulletins that evening breathless female reporters waxed on about the sheer luxury of the temple. One said posing as if having great authority, "What you are seeing here is the widest range of stockings you're find in any other selling center on the Planet. This incredible tall blond Lee Peach is an outstanding business entrepreneur. A real peach if I may say so and this is a brilliant example of turning a cute little fetish into an outstand example of 21st Century retailing that has done London proud." (That reporter was reading script Faye had provided).

During the evening Lee's father Albert and one of his mistresses who looked remarkable like a daughter of his cook Mrs Anthony approached his son.

"Lee, you have me worried, " Albert worried. "With stockings selling in the supermarket as low as £0.63 pence on special how on earth are we going to make money out of this venture?"

"In two ways dad. Our cheapest product sells for £20 ($US29) and exclusive hand embroider ones cost up to £150 ($US290). But this is chicken shit compared with selling the franchise complete with building plans and specifications that we listed on the Internet four hours ago on the website of the international business venture market. Already Faye has received calls from five investors ready to sign for a temple franchise at $US400,000 and to contract for product supply and pay us 3% of gross turnover."

Stroking his thinning hair Albert said, "Go in peace my son."

Albert stopped to speak to Faye so Lee whispered into the ear of the woman on his father's arm, "What is your name honey?"

"Shelly."

"Nice name. And your surname?"

"Anthony," she whispered. "You know my mother. By the way, I share your stockings fetish."

Faye was so delighted at the success of the evening that she went to Lee's apartment and bent over the sofa for him after she agreed with him they had done astonishing well in the conversion and fit-out in just under four-weeks. Lee reckoned it was be a speed record for a commercial project in London, probably in all of England, but they'd paid through the nose to get the manpower and expertise on-site.

"We are going to make millions," Faye sighed, as Lee sank in fully.

"Good gracious – you are wide today."

"I know Lee, I had both my husband and his father simultaneously last night and that's why I offered myself for doggy. This way I can squeeze when the time to cum comes. At that stage please squirt over the top of my breasts. I need to rub in semen into these worrying ageing lines and marks that are beginning to appear around my throat."

"In that case we best do this every mid-morning and mid-afternoon at the office."

"But that's dedicated adultery?"

"Not at all," Lee said, settling into rhythm. "We'll call it therapeutic massage and anointing."

"Oh splendid darling. Even mommy would have to accept that explanation if we are caught out."

Shortly after that evening, the company sent Faye and her husband Andrew, a senior lawyer well versed in company and international law, to visit investors around the world wanting to sign up for The Temple of Stockings franchise. They returned after being away for a month with contracts signed and the money banked totaling $3.6 million plus profits to be made from supply contracts. It was a killing but something had to be done to retain Faye and her husband. Lee spoke to his father and they reached agreement.

"The Temple of Stockings concept is a passing phase dad. We should sell out of the company but retain the London Temple in Peach Textiles as a franchise in the meantime and be contracted to be the exclusive supplier of stockings to the temples. Faye's husband reckons he can form a syndicate large enough to buy the company and repay your two million pounds capital, saying the company doesn't require capital any longer because it is self-generating all its funding requirements."

"Do what you think is best son. It's your show."

"Look we'll walk with a big slice of the profits as well so how about giving me five million of your proceeds after-tax that will include prepayment of your loan and allow me to finance my own business? As an incentive I'll get Faye to agree to you fucking her once a month for four months."




Stocking Tops Pt. 04



"Deal son, but don't mention this to your mother. She arrives home at the end of next month."

"Right, but when negotiating with Faye and her husband I'll warn them to on-sell on business within a year because the concept will gradually fall out of fashion, loosing its novelty with too many temples opening."

"So what else do you want?"

"Make me chairman of Peach Textiles and joint managing director with Martha Islington-Scott. If she doesn't like it she is welcome to resign. Textile manufacture in Britain is stuffed but we won't believe it. I want to sell the company to either Indian or Asian interests – preferably Indian, because they'll take all our machinery and offer contracts to some of our key personal." 

"Sounds great. When do I get my hands on Faye?"

"Don't be in such a hurry dad, you make her sound like a piece of meat. I'll make the arrangement she begins spending time with you as soon as she and her husband's syndicate take over our joint company."

Albert said the directors would not like to see Peach Textiles go down the tube.

"I know, but dad and you know I'm right. Britain's textile industry has been on the wane for a century and each time a factory closes those in the industry kid themselves it will be the last. Those old farts on our boards think they are sitting there making important decisions that will return Britain to being a World Power. It's crap dad."

"I agree but you'll need to fill the gap with a new division."

"Will do dad, trust me. Did Victoria say when you were talking to her today if Claire was definite about coming home with her?"

"Yes, Claire and her mother Jill. I'm still not too sure I like you calling your mother Victoria."

"Get used to it dad." 

* * *

Three months had passed since Lee had seen the three women. They all looked great and his dad couldn't keep his eyes off his own wife. Well that was a change, Lee thought, and Claire looked terrific. He'd been tentative and she was a bit wary so when they kissed they almost missed aligning their lips.

"God I'm nervous – here, feel my heart," Claire said. Lee put his hand over the delightful mass, his hormones raced, and both settled; they kissed like lovers should. Then Lee shot back two feet, having spotted the two mothers staring at them and whispering.

"God, how embarrassing," Claire said.

"Listen, are you travel fatigued?"

"No, we have flown in from Rome where we spend the last three days."

"Great. Come, grab you overnight bag. I'll help dad with all the luggage."

"Why, where are you going?"

Lee grinned wolfishly. "You and I are doing to Paris for two nights. I can do my work by phone from bed."

"Oh, how romantic. Oh Lee, I didn't know you had it in you."

"Have what?" Jill asked arriving beside Claire.

"Romance – Lee is taking me to Paris for two nights. We are leaving now."

"You can't." Jill wailed. "Not on my first night in England."

Victoria moved in and hugged Jill. "You're right dear, it's disappointing. But don't you see it as romantic? Try to think as a young person."

"Oh, of course. It's not about me is it? Darling come and give your mother a kiss. Have a great time in Paris. Isn't Lee just the best romantic thing around on two legs?"

"Oh mum, you understand! You are such a darling. Here comes Lee, say similar lovely things to him as well, and kiss him but no tonguing."

"Claire!"

But Claire was busy kissing her host and telling Albert when she returned she wanted him to take her to some of his stuffy old clubs.

"No women," he grunted defensively.

"Victoria has told us that's bullshit. Most clubs have the occasional ladies night and some even have female members."

"Victoria knows too much for her own good."

"Stop being grumpy Albert. We three women expect to be taken to a ladies night to be bored stiff."

Captain of industry Albert Peach stood scandalized.

Claire said, "I'll miss you Victoria but it will be only for three days. You have been such perfect company and your suggestion of stopovers was just miraculous."

"Thank you darling. Please don't allow my son to keep you locked up in a bedroom day and night. Paris is such an exciting city to explore."

* * *

"Claire and Lee entered their hotel suite almost too tense to have sex.

Take your clothes off and walk around nude. We appear to have great views of the city," Lee said. "Champagne is coming up."

Claire watched Lee pouring and thought he looked a little tired. Too many lovers? Too much work? Fighting with his father? Perhaps all of those?

When Lee handed Claire her flute she said, "We met Andrew and Faye Farrah in Singapore just by amazing coincidence."

"That was amazing. Lovely people. I suppose Faye told you she was my business associate for almost three months and about the Temple project? We worked like dogs, sixteen hours a day some days."

"She's extremely attractive. Did you two...um?"

"Yes, she was reaching across her desk for something. Her stocking tops became exposed, so I...um...um."

"I can scarcely blame you."

"Well... "

"Please don't say you're sorry. Men are such beasts."

"In my absence did you...um"

Claire blushed hugely. "You beast. A gentleman doesn't ask a lady such a question."

"I understand, I think. Let's drink up and go window shopping and fall into a romantic mood in a restaurant with character and come back here and do what we want to do but have become a little shy about it."

"Great idea. Do you still like my tits?"

Back at the hotel, Lee began licking Claire's stockings, sucking behind the knee and she began dripping and almost dribbling. Claire was aware she was developing a stockings fetish, or more precisely, having her stocking tops licked. Once she used to look at guys her age (now 27) and wonder if they were kind to females and then later if they were intelligent and, as she journeyed into sexual experimentation, she wondered if their dicks were large enough and were they capable of using them properly. Of course she thought of other things, a million other things as well.

Since Lee's return to England she'd starting looking at males, wondering if they licked stocking tops. One evening when Sheila and Beth were at a rock concert Claire asked her other flat mate James as they were finishing a bottle of wine had he any interest in licking her stockings. He licked his lips and then lunged forward.

Well, James put his shoulder to the wheel and ended up fucking her, which was what she'd really wanted, or so she'd thought. But during the next twenty-four hours all she recalled of that encounter, filtering out the penetration, the heaving and shouting and the gross exhibition of lust, was her stockings and especially the stocking tops being licked.

Over the next few weeks when beginning sexual encounters she asked for her stockings to be licked. The guys swiped a stocking twice with their tongue and then began tonguing pussy. Such morons!

Finally she found the son of one of her mother's best friends, Gavin. A fucking idiot – really. In the local pub he'd invited her to a dance. She declined but when he looked ready to cry she relented. He couldn't dance well, his conversation was appalling but when he parked on the way home without her permission she discovered he had a remarkable talent. Yes, he could lick and massage and breath flutter along a trail of saliva almost as well as Lee. No one including Gavin's own mother could understand what Claire saw in him. But when phoning Gavin for a date Claire thought they didn't need to understand did they? She missed Lee terribly but Gavin eased the pain by licking like a champion. Claire thought she'd become such a slut as she no longer looked slyly at any guy, checking out he wasn't sporting an erection from the thrill at talking with her. She now wondered about his ability at licking. She'd already thought Lee's father would be next to hopeless as he seemed too impatient and looked unlikely to have staying power because he was jumpy.

As Lee thickened inside her and groaned during the first fuck on being reunited, Claire felt color drain from her face as extra blood was rushed to her crotch to send her ejaculation over the sperm being pumped into her. God her guy was great at getting her off. She'd noticed how for the first time he lavished attention to her breasts that he called tits, not that she minded. He'd kissed and squeezed and licked them so excessively she felt her nipples were about to be ejected. It was so intense she was wracked by wave after wave of delightful orgasms. He could do that whenever he wished. Wow.

After she returned from waddling to the bathroom with a towel stuffed between her legs to absorb the copious leaking of their combined juices, Claire was surprised to find Lee examining her black bra.

"Thinking of wearing it Ducky?"

"N-o-o-o-o."

Was that a no or a perhaps? "Talk to me about it."

"Let's shower and go out and visit bra stores. The French produce world-class women's underwear. I'm in the process of selling our company's textile business lock, stock and barrel and already have three Indian outfits interested and we begin talks next week. I have to fill the vacuum the sale will have on everything and everybody including the size of our group's operation. I've been thinking of lifting my interests to breasts, or more precisely to bras."

During pre-dinner at Langford Manor on the return of Lee and Claire, Jill asked her daughter, "Did you find Paris exciting?"

"Yes indeed, and want to spend more time there."

"What did you do?"

"We drank, chased each other around the bedroom..."

"I mean outside the hotel?"

"Ate at restaurants, went on long walks, had a great time at night clubs."

"I meant shopping?"

"Well, I suppose visiting almost thirty outlets selling bras is what some people would call shopping mother."

"Tell us about new product," Victoria invited.

Claire smiled wickedly. "Ask Lee, he's the expert."

Jill, Victoria and Albert stared at Lee, minds ticking, waiting for his reply.

"Peach Group will be creating a bra division," he said. "Dad, tell the girls we're going as visitors to one of your clubs for dinner tomorrow night."

"What!" cried the girls, taking the heat off Lee.



CHAPTER 7

Lee was conducing final interviews with his female job search consultant and they had before them the woman Lee most favored.

"Undress and show us your breasts please Mrs Harvard."

Indignant, Nancy Harvard stood up ready to walk out and the consultant Mrs Stephanie Jones told Lee he couldn't make such an outrageous request.

"I just did," he grinned.

"You fucking creep. Just because you have a growing reputation in the City as being a business guru you have absolutely no right..."

"Then fuck off Alice. How can you expect me to recruit you as managing director of our bra division if you have grossly uneven, sagging and blotchy tits?"

"You can take my word that I don't and please call them breasts."

"Alice, please. You have a brain, you have high qualifications in business management, and you have full understanding about product in the widest sense. You are by far the best applicant in my opinion. If Peach Group were poised to invest heavily into bra manufacture and you were in my position, wouldn't you want to ensure the director of the operation and its chief executive was the perfect fit?"

Alice stared at Lee and began unbuttoning the back of her attractively styled top.

Holding a hand over her eyes, Stephanie groaned, "Oh God. If this ever gets out I'll be discredited and will never be able to work in recruitment again."

"Well, this exposes a fundamental flaw in the way your industry works, doesn't it," Lee said. "You guys are too rigid and play it according to the book. Even Alice now accepts that."

They looked at Alice and Stephanie whispered, "You have an amazing chest."

Lee grinned and said, "You're hired. Now none of us needs to say anything about this. If you two keep your mouths shut, no one will ever know. Put them away Alice. Here's our HR manager's card. She has all details."

"You mean I already had the position before I half-stripped?"

"No, you would have been rejected had I not been satisfied on a couple of important points. You are a lovely woman Alice. Welcome aboard. May I show you around on Monday and introduce you to key players?"

"Yes of course Mr Peach."

"Calling me Lee is fine. Thank you Stephanie, well done," he said kissing Stephanie.

"May I have one too?"

Lee kissed Alice many times after that, in the social sense, but he never saw her breasts bared again. He didn't ask, she never offered. Lee assumed he was preparing for marriage because Alice was there for the taking, or so he fancied. The other reason was Claire was very active in that direction; he lacked for nothing.

The Peach undergarments division was formed, based on buying out an existing manufacturer in London, discontinuing lines other than bras and bra sets and tripling the size of the premises. Lee achieved all that before final negotiations on the sale of the textile division and its transfer to India had been completed. His co-managing director Martha Islington-Scott retired and her daughter Martha took up a contract to operate the business in idea while Alice recruited her daughter Paula as general manager of the bra division without Lee being involved. But he was happy when he found out about the appointment, knowing Paula was out of her lethargy and marriage had her blooming.

The fight over selling the textile division had been bitter, with two long-standing directors resigning, much to Lee's relief. His dad had stood shoulder to shoulder to take on the dissenters and fence sitters. Lee lost his bid to have the bra divisions publicly listed as the textile division had been but in the end agreed he had no problem with that providing the bra division would never be starved of funding. He had to explain to his father and other male directors that one didn't just manufacture the one bra and produce it in different sizes with removable straps so women who wanted to go strapless could do so. He astounded them when he recited the different types of bras he could remember: training, full cup, demi cup, padded, underwired, convertible, minimiser, flattened seamed, sports, shelf, built in, nursing and mastectomy.

"My God, every woman must have to maintain a virtual arsenal," said one old director. "Good show my boy."

Actually it was that old codger who won the day for Lee when he and Alice battled the board over the marketing name for product – the board appeared to favor Peach Bras as the name but Lee and Alice argued Peachy Bras had the 'friendly ring of familiarity'. Lee's father described that as 'a load of cobblers' but said he would support them on a vote. Thanks to the old codger's vote in favor, the name for marketing purposes of Peachy Bras was carried by a margin of one vote.

Competition in the bra industry is fierce, with big established names dominating. Alice's approach was to spend heavily on saturated advertising that simply asked with no illustration, 'What are Peachy Bras?'

At the launch, hosted by the wife of the Prime Minister, a succession of models displayed British-made Peachy Bras and the media seized on the bra that had been designed to Lee's suggestions, named OMG. The model with large boobs came out wearing it – an entire chest-plate with two large cones with gaps for the nipples.

"Ohmigod," shouted women (who had not been primed to say that), and the expensive OMG bra rocketed to fame because, unbelievably, it was quite comfortable to wear despite having two straps with a series of OMG in rhinestones on the top exposed strap that women wore in pride. Until the production of that bra, it was generally believed that few women liked to have their nipples prominent under their evening dress. Lee's brilliance, recognized by Alice in approved production of that creation, shattered that myth. Peachy Bras became almost a household name overnight.

* * *

A big change loomed. Almost thirteen months after her first visit to London, Jill returned with husband Royce, extended family and friends for the wedding of Claire and Lee restricted to 110 guests, held in the nearby village church with spillover accommodated in the church hall with big-screen TV. The wedding reception was at Langford Manor.

Lee was delighted to be reunited with Royce and other Australian friends, for the reason they were friends but also because he and Claire had decided to return to live in Sydney after their marriage. It had been a simple decision, with Claire saying she'd like to live back home and Lee admitting he preferred the Australian lifestyle. So they had agreement on that and had agreement on having two children. Claire had then told him the first was on the way. Lee also was widely excited being reunited with Victoria's younger sister Marlene, the twins and their father Clan (Clancy). The twins were young adults and Lee thought their parents had aged, but then so had he.

The day before the wedding, Claire and Lee went to Heathrow to meet the last of their Australian guests -- Claire's former flat mates James and the obviously pregnant Sheila who'd married quietly when notified of the pregnancy. The other flat mate Beth was working somewhere in China and learning Mandarin.

"God, you look ever prettier pregnant," Claire lied as the two women kissed.

"Are you going to call him Lee?" Lee joked, gently feeling Sheila's belly. She replied possibly but spelt differently because the scan indicated it was a girl.

"G'day mate, good to see you again," Lee said, clasping his thickset mate to his chest.

"Got a knighthood yet Lee? We hear from Jill you have been doing big things very successfully."

"Well mate, that's all behind me. I've been accepted as an immigrant into Australia as a proven business consultant and investor."

"Good for you," James smiled. "We both will like having you home. You fit well in Oz where larrikins are admired."

"I've lightened down a lot. How's business going?"

"Was made redundant last week in a company takeover."

"Oh crap."

They heard Sheila sniff and she appeared ready to cry so Lee decided to cheer her up. "As the Aussies say Sheila, Claire's got one in the oven. Keep it quiet."

The two women yelled and hugged.

When the foursome was driving to Langford Manor, twenty minutes away from the airport, through countryside that had the two new-arrivals gawking, Lee asked James what were his plans.

"Looking for a new job."

"Fuck that mate. Let's set up our own advertising agency with you general manager and me as managing director because I'll put up the cash. What do you say to that?"

Shelia began crying. 

James looked over into the back seat at Claire wiping her eyes while hugging Sheila. "I guess Claire has answered for me. This thing has been stressing her. I thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"You Aussie's don't have hearts mate. But this reminds me of something Claire's father said to me when we were having a beer. "Christ, what are mates for?"

THE END 



Stocking Tops Pt. 05



CHAPTER 1

Sheila Krug looked over the top of her wine glass at his husband's business partner, a riot of thoughts plunging through her mind. Naughty -- nay, disgusting thoughts. She brazenly lifted a hand across her left breast and slowly plucked at the nipple beneath her gown, sending sensations of the very wrong kind through the body of the mother of two alone with a married man who was not her own.

She sighed and dropped the hand from its futile gesture. If that had been noticed Lee Peach had not indicated it. Just a lick of his lips would have cheered her. That's all she wanted, to be cheered. She had no desire to be fucked by Lee, did she? Sheila was surprised; why had she finished that last thought with a question?

In the five years Lee and wife Claire and Sheila and husband James had been together in Sydney after Claire and Lee's wedding in England, Lee had only gotten into her pants once. Well figuratively because she hadn't been wearing any. That was four years ago after their fledging advertising agency won it's first national award, best new product launch. Now what was it, she thought playfully...tinned cat food...um soap...no, well what was it? Oh yes, Mr Stocking Tops Peach had convinced the Meyer chain of department stores to import a line of very narrow striped stockings. The multiple-color vertical stripes came in five colors and the line had combinations of 100 colors to choose from.

The company ignored advice and gave James an advertising budget of $10,000 when he and Lee had sought $30,000. The company rejected the campaign the partners had proposed claiming it wouldn't work. The agency did little business with Meyer so Lee went ahead and placed the unauthorized ads in the two top magazines popular with teenage girls and some young women, having to add $5800 of his own money for two ads to run in two consecutive issues of each magazine. Meyer advertising management was furious and initially said it would refused to pay when billed, but when the company's stock of 15,000 packs of the stockings sold out in three days of the first ad appearing 250,000 more packs were airlifted in from France. 

Meyer gave Aussie Battler Advertising Agency a new budget of $50,000 and a list of newspapers and magazines that the advertisement, unchanged, was to be placed with. At that stage the agency, known as ABA Advertising, had a total staff of twelve (including Claire and Sheila who worked for pocket money on the promise of salaries, to be back-paid when the company struck it rich).

Like many great ads, the wording was starkly simple. The partners had a teenage model in big-selling Meyer pinafore, wearing the stockings with her legs bowed, and sucking a finger. There was no heading, just the wording, 'Mummy will space out if she sees me in these ghastly stockings.' Below that was the Meyer logo.

Before long the rush was on. At last younger people had something to wear of their own because older women truly hated the ghastly stockings. At the end of the year the stockings came in fourth in the Consumer Market Survey of Australia's Best New Products of the Year.

As Sheila recalled, well after midnight after receiving the award trophy, James, Lee, Claire and she were in the Peach's spa pool. She remembered through the alcoholic haze being fucked by her husband and being tapped on the shoulder by Claire. She rolled over and received something she'd long wanted -- Lee's big one, up as far as it would go. She recalled bellowing in delight, setting off neighbor's dogs.

Back from day-dreaming she looked at Lee who was reading. Last evening at the advertising awards they'd picked up five gongs and that was a real credit to her people (Sheila was now on salary with the title of office manager; Claire was company secretary). That morning Claire and James, at the request of the advertising association's president, had taken the American guest speaker and his wife into the Blue Mountains. James had earlier been acting as host for American and his wife had really taken to Claire because they shared an interest in quilt making.

"They will be away all day, won't they?"

"Yes Sheila, you know they will."

She and Lee were dressed waiting to go to lunch. Pinching her nipple again Sheila asked, "What do you want to do?"

They were lounging on the hotel balcony as it was the practice of the two couples to book into the downtown hotel even when the awards evening was held in their hometown.

"Dunno, something or anything."

"You are losing your English accent."

"Is that a crime and why aren't you wearing a bra?"

"Because the cut of the bodice holds me quite well and the very low back would show bra straps."

"Oh," he said, obviously loosing interest and returning to read the sports section in the Sunday newspaper.

God, thought Sheila, he was becoming more Australian than most Aussies. Well if she wanted satisfaction she'd have to have to play with herself in the bath.

Angrily she sat on the edge of her chair, pulling her hem way over her knees as she prepared to rise and go run a bath.

"Hold it."

Sheila looked at Lee. He'd tossed down his paper and was staring at her thighs.

"You look juicy."

Well that comment almost made her very juicy. She had the presence of mind to open her legs wider and ask did he like the view.

"Yes, very much. You've back to your gorgeous shape since having your last baby."

She juiced and said softly, "Her name is Matilda, honorary Uncle Lee."

"Sorry -- you've regained your figure since having Matilda."

"Thank you. Come into the bedroom and suck my stocking tops Lee."

He was off his chair in a flash and stood politely at the doorway leading into James and Sheila's bedroom. She made him wait, taking off her new dress and folding it, taking off her shoes and placing them together neatly and smiling as she heard the rate of his breathing rising. She then removed her bra.

"No need to remove that."

"Well I need to have something to play with while you are doing that boring stuff with my stocking stops," she said, hoping to get the full treatment. She enjoyed watching the horrified look creep up his face following her reference to boring.

She flopped on to the bed, knowing he'd be looking at titty bounce. He was and their gazes locked. She knew then she'd be fucked as well as licked.

Sheila recalled hours after the wedding when drinking champers with his mother, Victoria telling her about her son's fetish for licking stocking tops. But Victoria said if he ever tried her out she should demand the full treatment. Victoria, who was drunk but there was genuine passion in her voice: 'In all my adult life nobody has come close to making me come like my son does'. Sheila had been too drunk to be appalled.

* * *

Lee genuinely liked Sheila. He knew her legs were outclassed by his wife's and parts of her skin looked rough in places, unlike Claire's still almost perfect, slightly olive skin with the only bumps being two beautiful ones. Still he was aroused and Claire wasn't around, was she? Grinning at Sheila, really getting into the swing of sex by stretching a nipple in her teeth by pushing her breast away a little, he undressed quickly, gave his erection a couple of good pulls, noting Sheila was all eyes, and then lifted her left leg up and sucked the smaller toes while rubbing his erection with his free hand up and down her stocking. He heard her breathing become louder.

Almost fifteen minutes later when Lee was up at the stocking tops, soaking them in saliva through heavy licking, he could see the glistening of moisture on the light fuzz and as he watched she leaked a flow of juice.

Lee leered: "Are you ready to be fucked my treasure?"

"Oh god yes," said Sheila, whose head was flopping from side to side as she desperately wanted something up her cunt. She knew she could jam her fingers up it, but he might not like that; some men acted as if it were exclusively their property during such moments.

His tongue touched the flesh between her legs just above the stocking tops. She felt herself dribble down there and suddenly she was slammed by and explosion of sensations and she blew all over the side of his face, unable to prevent that happened.

"Oh fuck, sorry."

"It's okay. It proves to me you are alive and enjoying it."

Oh the darling man. Her heart welled for him.

He came right up to her and held his dripping face close to her mouth. She dutifully licked it clean, kidding herself the taste was like exotic fruits of the tropics.

Lee then pulled right up to her and commanded, "Make it wet before I push it in below."

She generated saliva and then coated it from tip to balls thinking, in the irrational way one does at such moments, that this was one of the greatest moments of her entire life.

Lee shuffled back down, she pulled her knees up higher and spread wide and he fed in his cock. It just seemed to go on and on and off she blew again when there was still more to go. How disgusting. Oh yeah? How wonderful. He felt so big she thought it was as if his hand and wrist were up her.

They just started on missionary when he disconnected and flipped her and pulled her into doggy. This she liked because he reached under her and tugged and squeezed her tits until she felt she was walking up the bedroom wall. She squeezed and he fired, slamming her against the bed-head as the convulsions began. No shortage of semen with this guy.

They showered and went down for lunch, going light on the drinks, and after a good rest were back doing it again. She wanted it in the butt. They tried, sweating and groaning, but no use. She was too excited at the thought of getting it there, because James wasn't that was inclined. She was unable to relax. Perhaps it wasn't meant to happen? 

They rested and when Sheila called for a linen change they went to Lee's room and they went at it over the sofa. After, still sprawled over the back of the sofa she lifted her head and saw he was standing back, studying her.

"What is it?" she yawned.

"Just a magnificent view I want to remember -- I'm looking a our liquids oozing out and running over your stocking top."

"Well, good for you. We ought to do this occasionally -- yes?"

"Yeah, how about once a year for as long as we can agree it's worthwhile?"

"Yes, what a lovely way of expressing it Lee and I'll promise to always wear stockings when we do it. If more men appreciated women in stockings like you do, I do declare the world would be a better place."

"Perhaps. You've been very lovely to me today Shelia. Look, have a shower and by that time the maids would have finished with your room. You can sleep until the others get back. I'll have a nap as well as remember it will be a lively dinner tonight, the president's dinner for principals of the award winning agencies and partners."

That evening the American guest speaker took a keen interest in Lee. James had been telling Hal Evans that their small agency's success had been partly due to remaining small -- current staffing was thirty-two -- and being driven by creative rather than management. The other contributor to success was Lee's refusal to accept any new account unless he believed in the product because when he believed his mind seemed to go up a notch and he switched from management to creative and led the team discussion on possible angles to exploit, his mind appearing to become visionary.

So Hal spoke at length to Lee, sitting beside him at dinner. When Hal went to sit with someone else Hal's place was taken by his wife Frances, who although almost fifty, reminded Lee of his mother. Frances said to him to open the conversation, "You beautiful wife Claire mentioned you have a fetish about stockings?"

Lee grinned, "Well to tell you the truth until this morning I thought I had been growing out of it but experienced something of a revival when unexpectedly glimpsing a stocking top."

"Oh how marvelous for you. I have this dream, never realized, of having my stockings licked and then the gentleman masturbating over my stocking legs," Frances whispered. "Of course that is never to be. I'm too old now and if I told Hal about that dream he would be disgusted. We live within the so-called bible belt."

"It's not about age, it's about stockings," Lee whispered. "Stockings transcend age but admittedly it does help to have lovely thighs. My mother is a little older than you and I'm sure her legs would appeal to many men and heaps more if encased in stockings."

"Oh god, you give me hope Lee."

"It's a pity you leave late tonight."

"Lee, that is one of the nicest things a guy has ever said to me. I wish you the best of luck in business."

"And you work towards achieving that dream Frances. Work toward making it happen and then believe in it and it will happen. You can't do any more than that."

"Thank you Lee. That's good advice. Your president's wife is beckoning so I must go to her. Goodbye. I have always worn stockings since a young teenager."

"With more women thinking like you do Frances, the world would be a better place."

Lee watched Frances almost float away.

* * *

The meeting of senior staff in the boardroom -- actually the staff cafeteria because there was no other facility to seat twenty people -- kicked around the problem amid an air of despondency. ABA Advertising's biggest client, Critter Dog Biscuits, had just advised it was being taken over by a Dutch global company and all advertising would be handled by one of Australia's top three agencies.

Talk about redundancies, belt-tightening and a suggestion that ABA itself should look for merger opportunities were discussed without too much enthusiasm until finally, James who was chairing the meeting said, "Well let's hear from our guru?"

The weight of despondency over the meeting suddenly lifted. If anyone had the solution it would be Lee. He'd been filing his fingernails, feet on the table. He jumped to his feet and said, "You guys call yourselves creative or management? A bit under-powered intellectually today are we?" 

The executives who included Sheila and Claire looked expectantly but were disappointed.

Lee said, "In the absence of any constructive suggestion the only solution is for James and me to find a larger client than Critter Dog Biscuits. Meeting over, off you go guys and gals and service the clients who remain with us."

James sat with his feet up on Lee's desk. "You haven't a fucking clue whose business to pitch for that we have a show of landing, have you?"

"Not yet, but they are out there. Believe me. All we have to do is it find a big company that has been shafted yet again by its big advertising agency and we walk in and say, "Listen here guys, this is what we can do for you. Think of our partnership as family."

James rolled his eyes. Lee opened his bottom drawer, pulled out the whisky bottle and pushed it across to James.

James swigged straight from the bottle, recapped it and pushed the bottle to Lee, their theory good Scotch was so powerful it thwarted any chance of cross infection.

Lee took a snort, swallowed, coughed and said, "Aaaaaaaggghhh. Beautiful."

"You haven't a clue where to look, have you?"

"Well I won't find that elusive client sitting here," Lee said, pushing the bottle back to James. "Entertain yourself, I'm off."

Lee called on the secretary of the advertising agents' association, passing across to Eric a bottle of single malt he'd purchased on the way over.

"Bribery and corruption," the old guy muttered, as he put the bottle away. "Which one of my daughters do you wish to shaft?"

"Christ Eric, you know I'm not like that. If I was after a stray bit of fluff I'd ask you to get your youngest daughter to call me."

"She'd pregnant."

"Well, that proves I'm not interested, doesn't it?"

The weather-beaten weekend sailor poked his hawk-nose in Lee's direction and looked through rheumy eyes at one of the few guys in their business he had any time for. "You skunk, you are after insider information."

"Fair go Eric, nothing that will discredit you as becoming a grandfather for the fortieth time."

"Fifth."

"I was counting the children of mothers who have been sailing with you, your rotten sod."

Eric grinned. "You know Lee, who the fuck would ever know you are English, a Pom. You are more Australian than my two sons."

Half an hour later Lee raced to the airport and caught a flight to Adelaide. Eric had given him the name of a company that fitted Lee's requirements to a 'T'. Eric knew of no other.

At the airport Lee called Claire, a month into her second pregnancy. She was amazed he'd made progress so quickly and said yes, she'd keep quiet and yes she would tell James he'd gone to see a man about a bus."

"Will James know what that means?"

"He won't have a clue other than to know I'm on the scent of something. Call him around if your get lonely babe, I'll be away two nights."

"Lee, how dare you. I am a respectable married woman into my second pregnancy."

"Yeah, yeah. I love you barefoot and pregnant doll. Finger it for me tonight."

"You are a naughty boy. Mama should spank you."

"Final call babe. I'm off to conservative South Australia."

It was the close of the business day when Lee arrived in Adelaide but he called Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies on the off chance. No reply. He took a cab to the company's plant and stopped outside the locked fence outside the two-level office building and paid off the cabbie.

The plant operated 24/7 so Lee strolled to the security office just inside the gates and picked up the phone.

"Yes."

"I'm here to see Fletcher Owens."

"He don't work here anymore, retired last week."

"I mean his successor."

"That's his daughter Mrs Stolt. Call in the morning and make an appointment."

"Who is that white Mercedes outside the admin block?"

"Mrs Stolt's."

"Call her and tell her I want to see her. The name's..."

"She won't see anybody. Call in the morning for an appointment."

"The name is Lee Peach. She may recognize the name..."

"The stockings guy who raised those millions for backcountry education of kids?"

"Yeah, that's me. You have a good memory."

"That's how I first met my wife. I was standing in Rundle watching the flashing. She had black stockings and bright red panties and the best legs I'd even seen."

"I understand. I does something for you, doesn't it."

"Yeah. Look buddy, I'll take a risk and call Miss Melba right now."

The gates swung open and the young guard came out, watched by an older guard shaking his head. "First floor -- take the stairs and turn left and walk right to the end. I told her about you and she remembers that great day. Said it would be a privilege to meet you."

Melba Stolt wasn't beautiful or sported a great bust, but the smile was great so Lee thought she was okay.

In her early forties, she stepped forward holding out her hand and said, "Hello Mr Peach. I feel as if I know you."

"Then in that case we should kiss."

"I...er...dammit, why not. I am alone in this building."

"I come in peace," he grinned, kissing the lightly puckered lips.

"On business or to see my stocking tops?"

"You are alone here. I have no wish..."

Melba flashed her stocking tops and colored.

"Very nice. How old are you -- thirty-five?"

She grinned. "That, Mr Peach, has earned you dinner. I go regularly to a..."

"Why not entertain me at home?"

"I live alone. Because of the hours I work I have been divorced."

"Oh, sorry about that. The restaurant of your choice will..."

"My hone will be fine. Come along...?"

"Lee."

"Come with me Lee, I'm Melba. I suppose you really came to see my father?"

"Yes."

"He retired recently as MD but remains on as chairman. He and my mother are in Europe at the moment."




Stocking Tops Pt. 05



"It's you I need to see Melba."

"Oh Lee!"

"Um, to talk business."

The house was out of town, on a farm running Hereford cattle.

"Dinner will be late. Let's go for a swim."

"Um, I'm without a swimsuit."

"Well in that case I'll swim without mine. I prefer it that way."

After they swam for a bit and Lee did the guy thing and completed a few power-swimming lengths, he crossed to Melba who stood in the shallows. 

"I suspect you think I'm promiscuous?"

"I'm hoping you are," he said, moving right up to her. "Can we keep this separate from business, I mean if I don't please you here you won't take it out on me elsewhere?"

"No, providing what you do is not ugly."

"This is what I do," Lee said, moving in and kissing her without haste. They kept on kissing and she pushed one of his hands underwater and held it against her pussy. What could a guy do but yield, a guy who was happily promiscuous?

Lee pushed her hand away to affix to his dick. He pushed his hips forward. She guided it in and he began delivering long, deliberately slow thrusts. She tongued him hungrily and when she began groaning he picked up the pace and she began rocking back at him and they both came pretty much together, both keeping their eyes open and on each other.

"How was that?" she asked, as he pulled out and they watched fluids escaping into the lighter colored water. She had been leaning against their towels so handed Lee's his towel and wiped the sweat of her face with hers.

"Beautifully accomplished. I readily admit having had better, but always in an environment was so much more conducive to great sex. What we achieved was really quite astonishing; you have real talent, controlling it all the way."

"But you must have expected sex?"

"Not at all, at least not until you said, 'I suspect you think I'm promiscuous?' That told me the doorway to desire was about to open for me."

"Fair enough but I really decided to attempt to have sex with you back at my office. Your boldness, you focus on me, drew on my femininity and it has been quite sometime since I've been with a man in a near-compromising situation. Melba just melted."

"I love it," he laughed.

"And I loved you all those years ago for what you did for women, for the first time ever giving women en bloc the freedom to lift them hems and flash."

"Did you?"

"Yes, we employ almost 400 women so I had arranged for Australian Post to provide us with a temporary mail box that was placed on the lawn in front of our admin building. Much to my father's disgust and to the delight of our women, I was asked to be the first to post my donation and to flash. You, a foreigner, were an inspiration to Australia that day."

"So this evening you felt it your patriotic duty to reward me?"

"Well yes, but to tell the truth I hadn't expected to enjoy it so much. Will you stay the night?"

"Well yes, thank you. But first I must say I am here to ask for your company's advertising account. I understand for the third time your company has fallen out over its agency alleging price gouging."

"Correct. I shall call my advertising manager right now and get this sorted over dinner, at least reaching the stage where you are invited to pitch. She may wish to also stay the night, as she is even hornier than I am. Her husband left for overseas only six nights ago."

Lee booked into a hotel next morning and spent most of the day sleeping until an hour before leaving on a flight to Sydney. He arrived home just after Claire had gone to bed at 9:00. They made love gently, taking their time about it. He then told her he loved her -- that being the truth -- and she laughed and patted his cheek and said obviously he hadn't been a naughty boy in Adelaide.

CHAPTER 2

There was an anxious wait after the pitch. James and his team went to Adelaide for the day to make the presentation. Finally Melba called Lee and told him, "You guys were deemed to be the best so the account is yours. By the way, after your masterly performance I began looking for a guy and went out with him last night on our third date. He's looking like Mr Right, also victim of a marital breakdown because he worked too long each day, ruining their potential social life. We appear right in that respect for each other and the sex is great."

"Well, what else is there? I wish you the best of luck. Look sweetie, do you mind if I put this call to reception and you tell James personally. He and the team think they have done all the work."

"Didn't they?"

"More than half the ideas were mine."

"That two rams mock-up was your concept, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Thought so, we're going big for three weeks nationally -- all out and then with the two follow-ups. Enjoy the pay-back."

"Thank you. What a wonderful client you are. Remember to flash at me when we next meet. Don't worry about my wife watching. Claire has become use to it and women I don't even know do it."

"Such is the price of fame. Goodbye sweetheart. I feel the two rams campaign is going to be very big for us."

Half an hour later James called an emergency meeting of everyone in the staff café. He burst into Lee's office and gave him the news. Lee slapped him on the back, offering warm congratulations, and said with true feeling, "Crisis over."

"Thanks for finding that client pal. How did you do it?"

"Went with a bottle of whisky to a guy I have come to know quite well. Simple as that."

James laughed and said, "Never under-estimate the value of a good whisky." He rushed out to request that a double whisky or a glass of wine be served to everyone as they went into the meeting."

"But James, it's not yet 11:00," said the café manager.

"Betty, sometimes one has to break the rules. I suspect this great news I'm about to announce is a result of Lee breaking several rules."

Within two weeks it was obvious that ABA Advertising were a clear leader in the race for the annual supreme advertising award (TV) for their two rams ad. Even people in the city who really had no idea what farmers did or what a licensed animal remedy was, fell out of their chairs laughing when watching the ad on TV.

It was a simple ad, just two large-horned Merino rams watching dogs rounding up a bunch of sheep. One ram said to the other in a cultured British accent (Lee's voice), 'I say Cecil, these days I get my biggest joy servicing ewes drenched with product from Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies. Those ewes have the plumpest of rumps, providing a stable platform for me. And they are so healthy they push back so hard they knock my BAAAH down an octave.'

The second and much smaller ram said in high falsetto, 'Herbert, those ewes drenched with Grasslands product are too frisky for me. I require a stepladder to complete the job but they gambol off before I'm on the third rung. What's you advice?'

Herbert: "Ask to be sold to a farmer who hasn't heard about Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies.'

The printed adverts were also the talk of town and country. The two identical sized rams were pictured side by side with the text stating: 'That is Herbert on the left. He increased in size to help him to land where needed to perform. And his BAAAH is down an octave. Herbert said he was saved from untimely dispatch to the meat works by having a double drench of a product supplied by Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies.'

From childhood Lee had an unusual perspective on life and thought a little differently from most other people. He was not unlike his mother Victoria. These days he was aware his daughter Victoria, now Vicky because she called herself Vicky, was similarly gifted, or cursed, depending on one's point of view. Vicky would be going to school soon and that was more regimented than kindergarten (nursery) school was so he hoped she would survive coming under tighter control and being made to conform, without her natural creativity being blighted.

Lee had not discussed this with Claire who recognized Vicky appeared very bright both intellectually as well as in personality, but Claire seemed bent on Vicky being like all other children. Lee had decided to keep out of it as it could lead to rows, as what mother likes being told what to do with his child. Instead from earliest days he'd adopted the habit of taking Vicky for long walks, preferably just the two of them, and he'd be like any other parent in the park pointing out the ducks but he'd asked what do they go quack-quack. As she grew older she asked why but Lee wouldn't answer, until one day he was beside himself in excitement when he asked the quack-quack question and was answered, "That's their voice."

He raced home to tell Claire of the wonderful advance their child had made but Claire didn't understand. All she said was, "Well, what did you expect?" Yes, quite. There were of course a hundred other tests such as why do leaves fall off trees? Why are the white clouds moving? In time he had to back off because his little kid was becoming such a know-all her little friends were unable to comprehend what she was talking about. Instead of questions and waiting for her to give answers, even if it meant waiting a couple of years, Lee introduced Vicky to drawing. On Saturday mornings he took her to the office and the artists taught her pencil work, then progressed her on to crayons using the same basics and then paints. But when Vicky was three and a half and one of the Kindy teachers held up one of Vicky's drawings and said, 'Your child doesn't belong at this school, she draws like a five or six year old', Lee back-off on that. He backed off, but didn't withdraw completely.

Incredibly, he found Vicky was teaching him things, through the uncomplicated and innocence of the vision and thoughts of a child. She asked questions and if Lee didn't know he attempt to find out the answers. She also saw things differently than he did because she didn't have the knowledge to fill in the missing pieces or experience to make interpretations. For example, the leaf if it fell, it fell. It didn't fall because of gravity or being heavier than air. As a result his agency was now leaning more towards producing stark advertisements. If a talking fish was used to make a statement it was simply suspended against a white background -- no water, no fisherman or passing trawler in the background, no seagulls. Boring? Or less confusing? Advertisers would of course have the final say. Lee saw his mission was trying to convince people that sophistication and subterfuge were burying advertising today in a jungle of window dressing, smothering the message and leaving those expected to receive the message saying only one word: Huh?

Lee loved Vicky and gave his normal fatherly attention as well, like taking her and a bunch of friends out to a diner or to a movie. He took her boating, to the library and more often than not mummy came along too. Most of these things he was keen about his own parents had not enjoyed with him or even exposed him to; he could not remember his mother ever taking him to a movie. His father...well, he was just someone in the background and Lee was at school before he really learned what a father was and, sometimes later, what the role of a father was supposed to be. He was determined to be there for Vicky, and her brother or sister when he or she arrived, for as long as they needed him. He knew Claire would be for them because she was that kind of person. He, of course, had to reinvent himself and use observations and experiences with other people because his parents had not been role models, well his mother had to some extent. The big problem with her was for most of his childhood she had regarded him as an adult. 

Lee's PA came in with his coffee and said, "My, you are in deep thought today. Your earlier coffee is untouched."

Lee watched Beryl walk out and thought it was amazing just how few moving parts there was to a woman and yet were capable to exhausting a bigger, heavier guy in just a few hours, perhaps in less than an hour in some instances. Now was this really productive work. His phone went; the call was from the president of the advertising association.

Beryl walked in with the mail and almost was bowled by Lee. He'd not thought of bowling her in the other sense because she never wore stockings. "Sorry," he said, steady her and saving her spinning from the collusion into crashing into the sharp door frame."

"Really Lee, I think you are drinking far too much coffee."

He waited pacing up and down outside the restroom waiting for Claire to emerge. When she came out her danced her around and said, "You and I are going to America."

"When?"

"Why?"

"For how long?"

"Let's sit down over coffee and I'll tell all."

Claire sensibly drank water and Lee sensibly only drank half of his coffee.

Bruce Williams just called and has accepted on my behalf an invitation for me to be a principal speaker at an advertising convention in Salt Lake City for the western states of the USA that, of course include California and run down from Montana to Arizona and New Mexico."

"What, where the Mormons are?"

"Relax darling, the Mormons are everywhere. Other people of other religious fixations and the unreligious also live in Salt Lake City."

"Why you, an immigrant who has no formal qualification in advertising."

"Because I am who I am."

"God Lee, you talk so strangely at times. You ought to be a priest in a temple."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ignore it and answer the question, why you."

"Because the chairman of the program committee nominated me, that's why."

"Oh, I suppose that's George Bush?"

"No Claire, the American who was sniffing around you."

"You're crazy. I don't personally know an American...oh god, Hal Evans."

"Yes."

"But I don't like the man. On our day at the Blue Mountains he twice put his beefy hand up my dress."

"In search of the Forbidden City."

"What?"

"Nothing, you can't blame him. You are still a damn attractive woman."

"James, I really do think you have no morals at times."

"I'm not James, I'm your husband Lee," he said softly and enjoyed watching her blush.

"It's James, he talks filthy to me at times."

"Does he? Guess what he wants darling?"

Claire through her hands up and sighed. "God, you are unbelievable."

Lee sipped coffee and was asked when was the convention and was told the date in six weeks.

"I can't go. Vicky will have only been to school for two weeks by then?"

"So, Sheila will be only too happy to play surrogate mother."

"No, and I don't want the tress of air travel so early into my pregnancy."

"I know, you don't want to go because the convention is not in New York."

"Who told you that?" Claire said indignantly.

"You just did."

"What will you speak about?"

Lee scratched his head.

"You don't know. Then I'm not letting you go."

"Oh, I'll speak about...um..um..."A childlike simplicity approach in advertising."

"What?"

"You heard."

"That sounds a load of crap. You won't be able to bullshit Americans, they invented advertising."

"I thought that was credited to the Ancient Egyptians."

"How the hell would you know that?"

"Claire, please. Let's sign off on this conversation. I'm going and you're not. I'll bring you back a present and you are now happy to know that Hal won't get those big mitts of his on your pussy."

"What kind of present."

"Oooooh, you want it to be a surprise, don't you."

"Yes. What did you just say about my pussy!"

"Calm down darling. Just think of a present, an expensive present."

"Give me a hug darling. Why do I never see you hugging your PA?"

"She doesn't wear stockings darling."

"Oh god, you are so fucking impossible at times. You need straightening out. Let's go home this weekend -- mum and dad haven't seen Vicky for almost three months."

"Yeah, good idea. But your mob will have no show of straightening me out. I'm a product of my early environment."

"Please darling, not another sermon about your uncaring father and your mother who treated you as an adult twelve years ahead of time."

"You still believe I fucked my mother, don't you."

"Darling, you said you didn't and I believe you. "Victoria said you didn't and I believe her. And yes, and I repeat, I am willing to take a lie detector test about that and no I don't possess the FIB handbook about how to foil a lie detection test."

"What's this about the FIB handbook?"

"Darling, I just added that to keep from screaming my head off about the boredom I experience in have to provide you with that assurance. I'm off to do productive work. What will you be doing?"

"I'm off to my office to sulk until it's time to go home and talk to Vicky. She will soon sort me out."

"Good idea but please don't transfer your paranoia."

"What?"

"Nothing dear."

CHAPTER 3

Lee arrived in Salt Lake City fresh because he'd begun his long journey early and stayed with his aunt in LA. His mother's much young sister was emotionally in a mess because a facelift had gone wrong. Lee licked her stocking tops several times and that seemed to cheer Marlene no end. He was surprised how much she'd aged in outlook as well as physically. She confessed she and Clan (Clancy) rarely had sex these days so she had to look elsewhere for it and Clan was fucking most of her girlfriends, although not all at once. The twins both had good jobs but rarely came home. Lee guessed why because he, too, was glad to escape from under the cloud of depression. He had not even been able to take Marlene to a movie and a restaurant meal -- she just wanted to stay at home.

Lee arrived at the Salt Lake airport and was booked in at the Marriott Downtown, travel and accommodation all paid for by the hosts. An email had advised he'd be met. He looked at a line of people holding up notices and thought he better patrol the line. The third person from the end in a blue suit with a high skirt made him lick his lips and he sighed when he saw most of the others looked like devote church people. He looked at blondie and the name just below her tits was his name. He smiled; she smiled and said, "Hi, mom said you were gorgeous."

The older woman beside her sniffed but Lee didn't care. He was going to spend his time outside of convention sessions fucking this babe out of her tree. 

"Hi," he smiled. "I am Lee Peach."

Her nose was a little too sharp, she had freckles and frown lines and was, he guessed, thirty. She had a wide mouth, a wide butt from what he could see. He looked at those boobs again, fingers twitching.

"It's lovely meeting you Lee. I am Wendy Lobb, um, Mrs.

His eyes jerked up from her boobs to her eyes. She smiled and shrugged and said cutely, "Sorry."

"Whatever for?"

She just turned that wide mouth into another smile.

"You have everything."

"Yes thanks. What now?"

"I deliver you to your hotel, make sure there are no problems with your booking and then I just disappear."

"I don't want you to go."

She said gently, "Lee, I did feel the need to tack on Mrs a couple of minutes ago."

"So?"

She sighed. "A few good curves all trussed up and you must have. Is that right Lee?"

"You are the only person I know in this city, in all of Utah apart from your parents and they'll be busy with VIPs."

"You are a VIP Lee, that's why I was delegated as a volunteer to meet you. The good-looking women get to meet incoming VIPs. I'm sorry I misjudged you but you made me nervous, looking at me the way you did. Although I'm not religious and neither is mom, dad is a little and most of the extended family are really big into it. I cannot afford to get mixed up in anything...um..."

"Unsavory?"

"Yes unsavory, though looking at you I can't imagine that tag fits."

"This is interesting," Lee said, trying not to look crafty. "We have only just met and already we are talking sex."




Stocking Tops Pt. 05



He enjoyed watching Wendy's face turn pink.

"As I said, I know no one else in all of Utah except you and your family. May I ask where is your husband?"

"In Canada for another three weeks."

"Children?"

"No."

"Lonely?"

"Yes."

"These things happen, don't they? Will you be my companion during my stay here, subject to your parent's consent?"

"Yes. But no sex."

"Whatever you say. Call your father now and let me talk to him."

"He'll be busy with VIPS."

"But not too busy to talk to this VIP and his daughter, surely?"

Looking uneasy, Wendy made the call and handed the phone, still ringing, to Lee.

"Hi Hal, Lee Peach. I'm fine thanks and yes it was a good flight. Listen, I've just been met by your daughter Wendy at the airport. I've embarrassed her by asking would she be my companion to social events etcetera while I'm here, subject to your approval. I'm not putting you on the spot Hal because whether you say not or yes won't alter my relationship with you and Frances and I do know Wendy is married. So it's over to you buddy, I'm handing the phone over to Wendy and I'm walking off so she can talk to you in privacy. Yeah, you too. Look forward to catching up with you and Frances."

Wendy took the phone, highly colored and didn't smile. Lee walked off with his luggage trolley some distance away. A minute later Wendy called to him, "He wants to check with mom; she's in the same room with him."

Lee held up both hands with crossed fingers. She smiled and looked quite attractive. Lee decided he wouldn't mind if she didn't turn it up for him. But then again he would be the last to complain if she weakened.

Within two minutes Wendy took his arm. Lee was talking to a guy with a broom.

"Looks like the missus is ready to go," grinned the broom guy, showing many gaps in his teeth.

As the walked to the exit Wendy said, "Hosting you is fine by dad but to watch out for you because you look predatory. He said if mom said no then that was it. Mom said she was walking away from dad to talk privately and then she said the most extraordinary thing. She said to have a great time with you and to make sure I get you to...god, I can't believe this...to get you to lick my stocking tops."

Lee grinned and squeezed Wendy's arm. "I'll fill you in about that -- it's quite a story and obviously you mom has heard about it."

"Oh really, I can't wait. I still can't believe mom said that to me. She does get a bit coarse at times when she's been drinking."

"She may well have had pre-lunch drinks. Will you eat with me at the hotel and later go swimming with me?"

"Lunch yes and thank you."

"Stop at a swimwear shop and I'll by you a modest one-piece swimsuit."

She laughed. "I bet you have black and tight in mind."

They parked not far from the store Wendy had in mind. She wouldn't take money from Lee who waited in the car.

Returning to the car Wendy said, "Grandma would screw my neck if she knew I intended swimming with a guy I really didn't know."

"Grandma's have to set standards. It's up to granddaughters to decide which rules are for them."

Wendy shook her head. "You have a rather unusual way at looking at things Lee Peach. Quite refreshing really."

Wendy pointed out the convention venue, the huge Salt Palace Convention Center.

"This is only a major regional convention -- will there be enough delegates to justify use of that huge venue?"

"Delegations from other regions attend and the space taken up for trade exhibits is huge," she said. "You will see computerized graphics equipment still under development and not yet on the market as well day to day equipment. Dad says the industry has a voracious appetite for anything new that gets the job done and competition to supply the industry is high. It also includes new model vehicles and equipment from coffee machines down to office supplies. Well, here we are at the Marriott Downtown."

"It looks okay, making a bold statement."

"Lee, tell me -- why this emphasis on going swimming?"

"I get to see your body."

Wendy blushed and turned so allow him to see it full on. "I really don't know how I'm going to handle you," she almost scolded, and turned crimson when he murmured, "Softly."

The welcome and registration went smoothly and Lee invited Wendy up to see the room but she declined primly. He returned within ten minutes looking very relaxed wearing just his trousers, scuffs and a terry robe.

"Lee, I've decided against going swimming."

He just smiled and stood took her arm and walked back to the elevators.

As they entered she asked where were they going.

"To my room. It comes with a Jacuzzi. It appears you are shy about going into the water in public."

"It's being stripped off and going into the water with you that was a worry to me."

"No worries Wendy, I'm as passive as a koala bear."

"Oh koala bears -- do you have any in your garden at home. They are so cute."

Conversation about Australian wildlife continued until they were in Lee's room when Wendy's mouth closed abruptly. She was nervous again.

"The room is not too bad," Lee said, as if anxious to get talking again.

"It is okay but for me, I don't think so. I like the comforts of home and I would imagine you think similarly.

"Is that an invitation to share your home?"

Wendy looked at him and sighed, shaking her head.

:"Right, you under no pressure. Let's hit the Jacuzzi."

"Lee I don't..."

"You get changed and get in while I get the drinks. I anticipate it's a soda or juice for you?"

"A light dry wine would be lovely thank you."

Wendy boggled when Lee appeared with the drinks in his Speedos.

"God, that swimsuit might only just past the scrutiny of the morals police."

"That are very acceptable in Australia because our minds are wider."

"And your tan -- that can't be natural."

"It is. Thanks to my mother's olive skin I take to the Aussie sun very well. We spend a great deal of our leisure time outdoors for most of the year. What do you do here in Salt Lake?

"I have an executive position in gathering, processing and distributing statistics on visitors to the city"

"Sounds a dry sort of occupation."

"Only if you don't have the mind for it."

"Ouch," Lee said, touching his nose and grinning.

"Lee, you really are quite cute and as I said before, project in quite an unusual manner. I haven't met a man who relies so much on humor and light patter as you do. You say offensive things and yet they don't seem to land offensively but you do appear to give a girl a hard time."

"Only if she's sexy."

"I thought as much. This is all about sex, isn't it? The truth Lee."

As Lee slipped into the water, sitting opposite Wendy and placing a leg on to her left thigh that she pretended not to notice, he said, "Re your mother's reference to stocking tops Wendy. Let me tell you about that.

Wendy listened, not sure whether she was disgusted or enchanted. No, enchanted was quite the wrong word. This guy was using a cultivated interest in stockings that had developed into a fetish under the tuition of his mother to forge an interest between women who wore stockings and himself and then he'd sexually bop them. Although he didn't say it, she gathered he would have bopped his mom as well. She was heating up -- not because of the hot water -- and feeling very uncomfortable and thinking what an immoral man he was when he launched into the story leading up to Stockings Day Australia. She was fascinated by that story and amazed that the drive and belief of just one person could motivate perhaps four million females and those who watched them with apparent obvious delight.

He stopped. She said nothing. Then he said, "In Sydney your mom expressed an interest in me licking her stocking tops. I noticed at the airport that you wear stockings Wendy."

She was shocked...no...deeply surprised, she thought, to learn that about her mother. But then she'd long heard her dad referring to 'the bit of rebel in your mother' and actually had never wondered what he meant by that although admittedly it did show after her mom had a few drinks. There was a bit of a naughty girl in her mom and persisted even now.

"I can't believe what I've just heard."

He grinned and said he'd expected her to say that. "I'll never lick your stocking tops Wendy...not unless you insist."

God, he was making her feel like touching him. Her mind roared and she wondered what he was like in bed. So she bit her lip until that hurt enough to settle her. Oh no, her vagina was now tingling. She'd not defied him and had purchased a tight black swimsuit. Her breasts were swelling against the fabric and that wasn't the only thing swelling. Why had she stupidly allowed herself to be lured into this situation?

Lee stood and her eyes widened at the size of his bulge. Then, incredibly, he saved her. He said, stay here while I dress and go down to the lobby and make some calls. I am aware I have put you under stress but you are such an attractive package I can only apologize but I cannot say I'm sorry for my behavior because to me it seems so appropriate. Leave when you are ready and don't return if that's the way you feel. Otherwise I would be delighted if you return around 6:00 nicely tooled up and partner me at the cocktail party being held for us in this hotel. May I kiss you?'

Wendy nodded, dumbly she thought, so she made sure she kissed him back. God, what a mess.

* * *

Lee waited for a few minutes and went into the venue, deciding Wendy was a no-show. He was talking to Hal and his wife when Frances, looking beyond Lee, grabbed Hal's arm and sighed." For goodness sake Hal, just look at your daughter."

Hal's mouth dropped opened. It must be Wendy, Lee thought, spinning around and his jaw almost hit the floor. Conversation around them died. Wendy had her hair piled high, the little black dress appeared painted on her and it was so short the bottoms of the lacy bands of her stocking stops were visible. Her stockings were black sheer and her black shoes with black bows had six-inch heels.

"Please Lee, keep your hands off her -- my daughter is married," Hal groaned in a whisper.

"Easy darling. You daughter is a big girl. She and she alone will determine her behavior."

Lee said hoarsely, "I can leave right now and hide if you think I should Frances."

"You stay, and that's an order."

"Frances, I don't think..."

"Shut up Hal."

Wendy glided up and greeting her parents kissed them on the cheek and then turned to Lee said hi and stood beside him. He placed an arm around her waist, dropping the hand over the start of her butt. She didn't buck.

"A drink?"

But Lee didn't have to move. Two male waiters approaching from differing directions were homing in with a selection of drinks on their trays.

Two expensively dressed younger women began talking to Wendy and later she collected Lee and they went off to dinner with those women from California and their husbands and an older couple from Montana. They chose a nearby restaurant. Hal and Frances in a large group came in and had to wait for tables so Lee excused himself and went and joined them for a drink and was introduced to some of the movers and shakers in advertising out west.

As the cab neared Wendy's home she said simply, "I want you to lick my stocking tops Lee."

The cab swerved and almost swiped a parked car.

Lee grinned and said, "You place or mine?"

"I was thinking tomorrow evening after the dinner. You will have delivered your speech at the afternoon plenary session so will be more relaxed by then."

Lee smiled and said good idea. He kissed Wendy at the door, unlocked the door for her and as he gave her the key and she began walking inside he was temped to slap her butt but decided he was going fine so should not take unnecessary liberties.

On the way back to the hotel the cabbie said, "This licking stocking tops. Is that a perversion?"

"It depends on intent," began Lee with authority. 

The bar was full of guys talking women, sport and advertising, their partners leaving them to it. So Lee enjoyed an entertaining four hours and met guys who could become his buddies, most of them drunkenly promising to visit him in Australia.

CHAPTER 4

Lee walked to the rostrum amid warm applause, being billed as and Englishman who became an Australian citizen after becoming a household name in that nation after an incredible thirty-minutes of mind-bending control of women. He possessed no qualifications in advertising but held a degree in business management. He was principal of an almost flamboyant boutique advertising agency in Sydney, Australia, that each year took home at least one national award in advertising and this year collected four open national awards. Lee's creative people were fed their impetus ideas from Lee, every time.

The guy reading that introduction then announced, "Those words were supplied unknown to Lee by his business partner and director of Creative, James Krug who says Lee doesn't think and act like ordinary guys so don't expect the usually learned presentation from him."

There was polite applause and Lee noticed his hostess Wendy sitting near the front with her parents. He winked at them.

"Within minutes of first meeting James Krug, who shared an apartment with three women, one of whom is now my wife, he threatened to punch my lights out because I dared to ask the three women to show me their stocking tops. My wife-to-be told James she'd wop him one if he didn't sit down and behave with tolerance. My wife's name is Claire Cobb and her wealthy farmer father flew his own Lear Jet that was black and in typical Aussie humor he had it boldly painted with the name, Cobb Airlines. You know it's the only name of any private airline I know and why? Because it was an aircraft painted entirely in black and with its name in white, and the name was only two words -- Cobb Airlines. Simple huh? Well that is the theme of my address -- Keep it simple huh?"

"I suggest those women rising to leave ought to return to their seats because this soon becomes interesting. Thank you."

"I fled England for the benefit of my immediate family after appearing in court charged with committing an indecent act with a woman in the grounds of Parliament in London. My sharp-ass lady lawyer took my case to appeal and won on technicalities, the main two being licking stocking stops was scarcely an indecent act, at least not for the woman receiving it, but the killer submission was proving beyond all reasonable doubt the space where Lady Somebody and I were engrossed in being gross was on public land set aside in Elizabethan times for the pleasure of courting couples."

I holed up in Australia, met my wife-to be-Claire by chance and called on her at her apartment. In talking with James and the girls I found the answer to a problem that had been dropped on to by lap by a Flying Preacher who landed his single-prop aircraft on a highway in response to a radio call to pick me up as a hitchhiker as I wanted to return to Sydney. He had some responsibility with a privately funded systems of schooling for young kids living too remotely to be funded by the federal or state authorities and donations were drying up because money was tight as the drought gripping the land entered its second year."

"Rather than me tell the story, let James tell it. He was creative director at an advertising company at the time and made this three-minute clip for me on the project, Stockings Day Australia. A year later, commemorating that event, he presented this clip me as part of my wedding present."

James narrated the clip, documentary style, with shots of the outback schools and Lee with the Flying Vicar/Preacher, shots of donors flashing to expose their stocking tops and shots of the after-event party with Lee relaying news that the half-hour of fund-raising throughout Australia had raised more than $3 million and it was likely when counting finished the proceeds would exceed $4 million. "Australia took their hats off to this guy," James said, with the camera panning Lee with his arms around two busty, very attractive women in tiny bikinis. "That is Sheila now my wife on the left, and Lee's fiancée Claire Cobb. We four shall always remember Stocking Tops Day Australia when even grandmas stood up and flashed after making donations to the outback education centers' appeal."

The audience laughed and clapped hugely as the clip ended.

"The message from that campaign," Lee said, "was keeping it simple, although the background organization was massive and anything but simple. We set the giving of donations to a time frame, noon to twelve-thirty in whatever time zone citizens were in. We placed mail boxes within easy reach and all they had to do was to address their donation for the appeal, mail it and turn and flash, feeling they had donated to a worthy cause and got something back in a moment of madness by publicly flashing, prepared to do it because other women around them were doing it."

"After my marriage we returned to Australia because Claire was keen to return home and I really didn't mind where I lived and had the bonus of Australia was the place where women didn't mind flashing."

"Curiously, it was stockings that won our agency its first major national award. Although not seeking credit, I came up with the idea, executed it and insisted our people keep the advertising campaign simple. Well as you'll see in a moment, it was almost too simple for words."

Lee described how he persuaded a women buyer at a department store, who had great legs, to import stockings from France that had thin lateral stripes in a series of five colors.

"Did I hear cries of 'ugh!" Lee said, hearing that reaction.

"Ugh!" yelled women and some men in the auditorium.

"Good. And that's what made our campaign work and established our agency as a cut-above the average advertising agency. The department store refused to approved the draft of the ad we submitted or to increase its budget to place the ad for two successive issues in two girly ...er... teenager and young women reader magazines. Because I'm unprofessional with lax morals I went ahead and placed the ads without authority and added my own money to bridge the gap required. As I anticipated the campaign was a runaway success."

He turned to the screen and the ad was displayed. "Like as limited number of ads that really hit the button and motivate reaction, heaps of it, the wording of this ad was starkly simple. We had a teenage model in our unhappy client's big-selling Meyer pinafore, wearing the stockings with her legs bowed, and sucking a finger. There was no heading, just the wording, 'Mummy will space out if she sees me in these ghastly stockings.' Below that you see the department store's logo.

Some delegates began clapping immediately and other people when it was explained to them that young people tended to love what older people disliked, they joined in and clapped.

"The store urgently shipped in another 150,000 pairs of stockings from France. Interestingly, that product received many votes in a consumer survey, ending up being named as the third best new consumer product for that year."

"My daughter is almost five, and for some years I have been listening to her ask things like, "Why do leaves fall from trees or why do clouds move?" It took me quite some time to learn she didn't expect an answer from Einstein. "Leaves fall because there are heavier than air' and 'clouds move because the wind blows on them' were all she wanted to know."

"Friends, if I may call you that. My daughter Vicky exposed me to one of the great secrets of the universe...I was telling her all she needed to know."

"Okay, I know some of you know that and practice that but I'm telling you we are in a minority."

He turned to the screen. An ad was displayed of a talking fish giving consumers the message they should eat fish twice a week. The fish in the first ad was highly colored on a blue sea with the sun shining brightly above the fish, a trawler passing behind it and hordes of little fish swimming the foreground. In the second ad, the simply colored fish in blue and gray was suspended against a white background. The only thing that stood out was the message: Healthy, happy people eat fish.




Stocking Tops Pt. 05



"I wonder which of those messages is getting through," Lee said, sending a buzz through the auditorium.

He then related the story about when his daughter was three and a half-year-old, taking her to his office on Saturday morning and having her tutored in art and later to his horror hearing the teacher say Vicky no longer fitted in with the class.

"I'd gone too far and admitted this to the tutor who was a young mother herself and she understood and praised me for taking an intense interest in my child. You see, Vicky didn't want to be the best artist in the kindergarten. All she wanted was to lose her frustration of not being able to draw so that what she drew made sense to her...in others words, to meet her aspirations and satisfy her standards, although at that age she wouldn't understand that concept."

"Disclosures like that make my mind reel and give me clarity of vision."

That drew some applause.

"I'm now a popular guy with that pre-school facility. They have what they call a 'gala day' each year and usually raise from $1500 to $3000 dollars with cake stalls, a Punch and Judy show and the Grand Tricycle Circuit in which the little kids are sponsored and earn two bucks for each circuit they compete. Great fun and great to see parents coaxing their kids to keep on going and the kids responding. Three months ago Vicky brought home a note from that same teacher who'd sympathized with me about pushing Vicky too far, too quickly with her drawing. Lee turned to the screen.

The letter from the tutor read:

'Dear Vicky's Daddy

A professionally designed poster from your Advertising Agency for Gala Day please.

Your innovative support will earn you a kiss at the Kissing Booth.

Mrs Bond.'

Lee's poster appeared on screen:

'Bring your junk for sale at the Blewitt Street Kindy Gala Day on Saturday March 30. Then watch other people buy your junk as if buying heirlooms. You'll be amazed. Guys of all ages shave as a Kissing Booth is there for your convenience. Don't forget the mouthwash.

Our kids need local support. Got that?'

"Well, the kindy committee didn't like the word kindergarten being shortened or children being called kids and the illustration of an old toilet bowl. But my fiery pal Mrs Bond who has red hair, apparently told the committee this was the 21st Century, Australians were probably the worst country in the world at shortening names and she understood junk sales were quite effective, and Vicky's dad had said he'd pay to have unsold junk dumped, so there." 

"Distribution of the poster, unchanged, was approved. We raised just over $11,000."

"Keep it simply, be innovative. Is my message getting through?"

"Right on Aussie," someone shouted.

"The sales manager of a company until then not a client of ours of ours and a father at Vicky's kindy -- oh, she shortened her own name of Victoria so we let it be -- called on me at the office. The company had a warehouse full of women's dresses, imported in cheap from overseas but the company then found the cut was too large for Australian women who tend to have large busts and, in the main, normal size bums. I thought moving a few dresses should be too much of a problem and asked how many units?"

"Arnold replied, 'Two hundred thousand. Our buyer, no longer employed by us, thought she would be making a killing for us.' Arnold offered me a budget of $20,000. I shook my head and say no, I wanted $180,000 as it had to be done properly to be successful." 

"Arnold fainted, well almost and said he'd have to seek approval and would call me back. I never expected to get that call but did. Authorization to spend $180,000 was on the way by courier. I thought, oh crap; what now?"

"I had the authorization stuck on the wall in front of me and for two days looked at it -- not all the time of course because I completed the drink coffee go for a pee cycle. Then Mandy came in to ask if she could shorten her working day to 10:00 to 3:00. Mandy is a great toiler and was then very pregnant. She was puffing and I said her dress was too tight and hello, the creative alarm in my head went off. I emailed Admin that Mandy was authorized to work those reduced hours with no change in pay and I told her to take the next day off on pay to buy better fitting maternity wear. As she left I yelled to our best copy writer, "Shirley, get your butt in here!"

"Shirley is almost fifty and loves the attention I give her. She's been through two husbands and misses their abuse so I'm the substitute. People say I'm not PC but I haven't a clue what they are talking about. I also lie a lot." 

Lee turned to the screen and said he'd briefed Shirley about keeping it very simple and explained the company had warehouses in Sydney, Brisbane, Canberra, Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth.

The half-page vertical newspaper ad showed a glamorous model four months into pregnancy wearing one of the dresses. She looked stunning.

'Warehouse Clearance of High Fashion

Great variety of European Dresses styled for early pregnancy.

The client said eighty bucks, the smart-ass advertising agent said forty and they'd sell quicker than baby's delivery.

Rush to one of the warehouses listed below.

Mothers waiting to become grandma: buy a couple now and cross fingers.

$40 cash only.'

"Arnold the sale manager called to say out draft ad was rejected. The warehouses weren't set up as trading centers. I said did he want me to organize that for them or was the company interested enough in clearing that stock and would adjust to suit? He called back and said go ahead."

"Inside two weeks the tills had rattled up sales in excess of seven and a half million dollars. We kept it simple, sold the concept through the great-looking model and Australia had never seen a promotion like this before. All the good elements eh? End of that story."

"I wind up my message about keeping it focused and simple with this currently running campaign of two Merino rams called Herbert and Cecil, old fashion names of long-gone popularity, but they are now household names throughout Australia thanks to our campaign to sell product for Adelaide-based Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies."

Turning to the screen Lee said, "This is the company's managing director. She's now a pal of mine because I've helped push her company's sales through the roof. Incidentally note the big boobs and small bum, a characteristic of many Australian younger women."

'Hi, I'm Melba Stolt, managing director of Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies in Adelaide, Australia. This is an endorsement of the charming Mr Lee Peach for presentation during his address to the advertising fraternity in Salt Lake City. I emphasize I'm not under duress to appear on this clip. Lee arrived on my doorstep after hearing we'd just fired out multinational ad agency that probably spends more on toilet paper for it's staff than is the annual net income for Lee and James' agency. Lee wooed me, in the business sense, so I invited him to pitch. Everything about their pitch seemed so wrong -- it wasn't about farming, it was theatre. I called my chairman, my dad, who was touring in Europe. He said I'd fucked up with two major advertising companies so why not give the little fellow a go. At least the approach appeared original and I was not to forget Aussie farmers like humor, particularly dry humor. So I went ahead and as successfully business firms love saying, our sales have gone through the roof. Sales are up 367% on the comparative figures for last year, a good year and the graph line is rising acutely. We have jumped from thirteenth to number three spot in companies selling animal remedies in Australia. That's all I need to say. Bye, have a good convention and please be kind to our golden boy."

As the image of Melba, brushing away flies from her face faded, the auditorium boomed with applause.

"How the hell do you get a client to love you," a woman yelled.

"Surprise. It never fails," Lee said.

"So here's the story about two rams. They appear on TV, in newspapers and magazines but not radio, in promoting sales for Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies."

The original ad was screened along with the follow-up ad and then:

"We ran into a bit of strife with the Advertising Standards authority following complaints from our competitors with this latest ad but we convinced them that even a koala bear or a kangaroo knows that sheep are not cattle. Here were go..."

The television ad showed a grazier (rancher) having rams unloaded at a bull fair (sale).

Two rams, one wearing a nametag of Cecil and the other Herbert, watched the very robust sheep being unloaded into cattle pens.

Herbert: Doesn't that drongo grazier know sheep are not cattle?

Cecil: He had no option. The stock is doing so well on Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies that they step over the sheep pens.

Herbert: You're kidding. 

Cecil: Yeah, right mate.

The camera switches on to two couples nearby. One elderly farmer leaning against his battered pickup with his elderly wife beside him says, "You appear to be doing all right Bill."

The camera switches to Bill, of similar age, who is leaning against a shiny new pick-up with his partner, a busty woman of about thirty who is leaning against Bill, stroking his cheek. "I'm swimming in money mate. Herbert and Cecil over there are producing progeny worth a fortune because of above average size and conformation. Using Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies gives you all this and more, mate. Rosie here told me this morning she'd pregnant, grinned the eighty-year-old with several teeth missing.

Cecil: I wish Bill wouldn't give out his big secret. 

Herbert: Personally I don't give a [bleep] mate; too many of the neighbors are borrowing us to land on their ewes. It's wearing out my pencil. All smart farmers should be changing to Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies.'

Lee said, "Well, that's it folk. Keep it focused, keep it simple and remember viewers and readers seem to respond well to humor."

Lee was thanked by Hal.

Hal said, "My wife Frances and I visited Sydney earlier this year where I spoke at the annual advertising awards dinner. I can tell you, it's bottom of the barrel with these guys. Lee and his pal operate from a former warehouse and it's no frills - rickety stairs, widows that won't close and air-con units poked through the walls and a bit of paint slapped here and there. But the electronics are state of the art and bums sit on the chair of the occupant's choice and most people fetch their own coffee and decided what hours they work, which is plenty sometimes when they have to meet deadlines with no extra assistance, because that how things work. A couple of local drunks come in Fridays and join the crew for free beers and other people in the building or across the street drop in because the drinks are free and the Friday afternoon is loud and robust and if the partners have had a good haul of paid accounts that week they take everyone who's there on Friday evening out for a cheap meal. Far from the Ivory Towers of Advertising they are and they find clients who are very comfortable with that. What's more, I reckon their output is huge and makes my outfit look as if we work sitting on one hand. They compete for awards against the big boys, the multinationals, and they walk away with awards. What more can I say than Lee Peach, please don't try to kick my stocking tops if you wish to continue living. Thanks pal, you've delivered some hot stuff here today."

After the applause died and people stood and stretched, waiting for the next speaker, Lee jumped off the stage and held out his hand. Wendy moved quickly from her seat to take his hand and they walked out amid people congratulating Lee.

"You were amazing, simply amazing," Wendy said. "Dad told mom and me he fought strenuously against a desire within his committee to write asking you to change to another topic. He said there would now be some very red faces of those on the committee who thought they knew best."

"I'm glad you told me that. I won't say anything, I just slap him on the back and walk away and he'd think he knows what that's about and has a loud-mouth daughter, as if he didn't know that already."

"Gosh you are rude. You look tired -- come on I'm taking you up for a rest in bed."

" Stop it, Lee, that's a disgusting leer. Lay one finger on me and I'm out of here."

Wendy turned back the bed for him and put a bottle of chilled water and a glass on the bedside table. She then called through the bathroom door -- "I'm off to catch up with mom."

"Come and have a shower with me."

"Lee!"

"Come on, I promise not to bite."

There was no reply until, "Promise not to touch me?"

"Soaping you is okay, isn't it?"

"I suppose so. Turn you back -- I'm coming in."

"You are a very sinful young lady," Lee said, turning and grabbing her kissing her, ignoring her wild kicking and twisting until she calmed and began kissing and then their tongues touched.

"Oh God, is what I feel against my tummy what I think it is?"

"What do you think it is?"

He waited. "Come on, say it."

"The biggest erection I've ever felt against me."

"Ladies like surprises, don't they?"

Lee soaped her and she soaped him, taking rather long with his erection. But it could be said the touching was neither urgent nor particularly erotic. They just stared at one another and drank in what they saw without exchanging a word.

Finally Lee said, "Let's go to bed."

"What for?"

"Let's lay on the top and have a glass of wine."

"This is dangerous territory for me Lee."

"I know but trust me. I'm not going to fuck you until you ask me to lick your stocking stops and I want you to have one drink and think very hard about today. I don't want anything to happen until you are convinced that if it does you'll wake in the morning not feeling particularly guilty. I never commit adultery without going home with some residue of guilt. But I deal with it without pain. I have no wish to leave you tomorrow when I fly off, suffering guilt and pain."

As they sipped wine Wendy sighed and said there was something she wanted to tell Lee.

"Shoot."

"Last year I had sex with one of my brothers. The timing was so perfect, he was so lovely and my husband was away on a fishing trip. I welcomed him attempting to score with me and thought I was going to continue to say no but I just melted and helped push him in. I was sad. I had committed adultery and, as you said about yourself, I just dealt with it in my head and came out of it smiling."

"Thank you for sharing but Wendy, I still don't want you sleeping with me tonight unless it's what you really want to do."

"Okay, I'm off now to find mom. Please kiss me."

CHAPTER 5

Once inside the lounge Wendy let down her hair, pulled up her red gown and said, "Lick my stocking tops Lee."

Lee, about to toss his jacket on to a chair turned and almost ejaculated, catching the sight of Wendy's somewhat plumpish thighs tightly held in black nylon against the vivid red of her gown.

He advanced, growing at the back of his throat.

"Don't," Wendy said. "I'm already over-exited...Oooh, there I go," she said, frowning and flushing and shaking. "God, that's never happened to me before.

Lee found the scents of pussy almost intoxicating as he slipped on to his knees in front of her, dragging his chin over her belly and then over the very damp crotch of her panties. He played his fingers behind her knees and licked alternatively inside both legs, moving up towards the stocking tops.

"Oh god, oh god," Wendy whimpered as he licked wetly across her stocking tops and on to flesh, sniffing at pussy very deeply so she could hear.

"Oh god, oh god," she whimpered and jerked into another release. As Lee watched, almost too close to focus, the upper outline of dampness on her pink panties edged out a little more. He pulled aside the panties and had the material ripped from his hands as Wendy, panting, pulled the material even farther to the right to give him wide-open access as she spread her stance and bent her knees, pushing forward and taking two handfuls of his hair. Lee's eyes watered as he said huskily, "What a beautiful pussy,' and she yanked on his hair in ecstasy. Soldiering on he sank his tongue in deeply and mainly tasted honey.

Wendy began screaming, her clit jumped out of its hood, so he rushed her to the bed and sank into her, that act alone throttling her screams. She panted heavily, not far from having a gigantic release he thought, so he cracked into her like an out-of-control piston. He watched her eyes turn up and she breathed raggedly, mouth wide open and her body began slamming back at him. She yelled hugely and then fainted.

They rested and went twice more and fell asleep. In the morning she kissed him deeply but held his hands tightly. "No, big boy. I have no wish to send you home to your wife depleted."

In Los Angeles waiting for the late night flight to Sydney, Lee struggled to ease the images of Wendy from his mind. The sight of her distraught at the airport, being held by her parents, was something he'd probably never forget. For a fleeting moment he'd thought there was justification in a guy having two wives, his choice being Claire and Wendy.

He saw an advanced learning computer suitable for kids six to nine years of age, knowing his almost five-year-old thought like a six or seven-year old so he purchased it. Through a mix of guilt and love he purchased a diamond necklace for Claire, although heavily discounted, pushed him into rather tight financial constraints. Well, that was incentive to go out and find a client with big money to spend.

* * *

At the airport terrible guilt temporarily ripped through Lee as he saw his beautiful and pregnant wife Claire push their darling daughter under the containment rope to allow Vicky to run to her daddy. Claire accepted Vicky was daddy's girl but knew that in time that wheel would turn. A couple of days earlier she'd had a scan and daddy was about to be told the new arrival required a boy's name. There would be a fight over the names, for sure, but no way would she have been happy had she married a yes-dear man. The day was hot, she was hot but determinedly she'd worn stockings and a garter belt. What she really needed was a very good licking.

"Hi darling," she said, kissing him and then nibbling his ear. "Who do you fuck while your were away?"

"Just one of the hostesses."

"Good boy. Had you said no one I'd known, you were lying. I hope I never grow out of the desire to be shafted by you darling. Let's hurry home. The kid's programs will be on TV for Vicky to watch. Mrs Bond at the kindy said Vicky has been tested and has a reading age of eight. The cheeky bitch said it was obvious Vicky took after her father. What's this I feel in your inside jacket pocket?"

"Diamonds."

"Ha, when have you ever bought me diamonds?"

"You could be surprised."

"There you go again darling on that peculiar notion of yours that women love being surprised. I'm telling you that's bullshit."

"Daddy?"

"Yes my little angel?"

"How can I tell that you really are my daddy?"

"Honey," said Claire. "Only his child aged only just five years would be capable of asking a question like that. Believe me."

THE END 



Stocking Tops Pt. 06



CHAPTER 1

The years had been kind to Lee Peach. He lived outdoors a lot, being big into boating, and the fierce Australian sun had bleached the top of his natural blond hair platinum, contrasting with the natural darkening blond beneath that, leaving him with mix of shades that women -- including wife Claire -- found very attractive. He wore it collar-length and cut ragged.

Women also liked his tan, arising from the olive skin inherited from his mother Victoria and passed on to Claire's and his two children -- the upbeat and brain-sharp Vicky (soon to fight her mother to be allowed to become Vicki with an 'i') and five-year younger and very reflective Payton. Lee had caught Claire during a period of mild pre-birth depression with that startling name choice and she yielded to send her pressing husband off to allow her to suffer in peace. To her despair, his little buddies were already calling him 'Pay'.

Lee retained an athletic figure, having purchased a shareholding in a gym so he attended it regularly and hauling the trailer-boat out of the water, swimming and water skiing helped keep him in shape. Like most women, Claire preferred to spend the extra money on clothes for herself and the children so did not employ a maid, and doing most of the work around the house and cutting the lawns and keeping the hedges groomed helped keep her trim. The nanny's contract precluded her from involving herself in housework or even vacuuming the swimming pool she used daily for eight months of the year.

Oh, Claire also toned her fitness by running a series of hot short-term affairs. She'd capitulated into yielding into extra-marital lust after the birth of Payton. She allowed Lee to run wild with other women, so thought a little relaxation of hitherto rigid standards should add a bit of passion to her life and wasn't wrong about that. But for both of them, at the end of the day they knew they had bonded into a near-perfect match. Both had inherited their promiscuity from their mothers. Even after all the years that had passed, Claire still couldn't believe her mother had gone after Lee and had a piece of him. Wisely, she kept her mouth shut and daughter and mother remained the best of friends.

Lee arrived home on that Saturday morning at a gallop. He'd been into the office to run a creative meeting because James was away in Perth pitching to a client. Little Miss Seven already wearing her hat and sunglasses with sun block she'd applied extremely competently. Two-year-Payton clung to his mother's shorts and looked shyly at his father while his father looked at the mother's legs and licked his top lip, sending a flutter through Claire.

"Take Payton with you guys, get him used to the boat."

"Aw mom, we want to have fun."

"I just called Kevin on radio. The annual picnic is already five miles down harbor. If Vicky and I travel full throttle we'll catch them before they reach the picnic spot. The idea is to cruise as a flotilla swapping insults across the water and the women flashing their t-i-t-s."

"Grow up daddy, I can spell. My boobies will be big enough to flash when I'm fourteen."

Both parents looked at Vicki and sighed.

At that Claire yielded, as she'd known she would. "Off you go Tarzan and Jane. I'll look after the abandoned baby. You both know he's terrified of speed."

"Let's go and get those pricks daddy."

"Hush, don't let your mother hear you using that word. I'm not sure Aunty Sheila is the right sort of person for you to associate with."

"She told me mom had smaller tits than she did but mom's grew soon after she met you and you pumped them up."

"Aunty Sheila definitely is not a good influence on you."

"Well Aunty Sheila and I bond daddy. Can we talk about something else?"

Hearing that father-daughter conversion under the deck as the powerboat trailer was being attached to the Range Rover, Claire sighed, knowing nothing would change. Everyone in the family loved Sheila and even Payton went to Sheila without a fuss.

Later that morning Claire and Payton met Sheila, who was married to Lee's business partner James, at a coffee shop. The two women kissed. They had been the closest of friends since they began boarding school as thirteen-year-olds. They had both recently turned thirty-three. After kissing the sleepy Payton, Sheila placed him back into his stroller.

"Well, I call this meeting to order," Claire said. "The only item on the agenda is Lee's fortieth. His parents have advised October 14 suits them and they will come earlier and tour Queensland before arriving here on the day. We need to appoint a committee of five more people and we can do that recruitment at work on Monday."

"Right, I can report the Professional Dance Group has approved of the script for the revue, A Celebration of Stocking Tops and has secured Channel 7 as the main sponsor. David Morgan the director of the group says the season will run for a month and predictions are it will be a hit and the season will be extended. Selection of the cast begins in a fortnight with rehearsals to begin soon after. The opening night, Lee's birthday, is set in concrete and David is waiting news from Paris that Monique Caas will accept the lead role."

Claire clapped her hands in delight. "God, she's a fabulous singer as well. Fingers crossed. Well that concludes the meeting. Have you heard about the dilemma of Margaret Quirk?"

"Taken another restaurant apart after ensuring a freelance photographer was passing by?"

"No, she's pregnant."

Shelia sniffed and said, "It happens to us all darling."

"Her husband has been engaged without leave on mineral exploration in Russia for fourteen months."

"Oh shit. Poor Margaret. Let's drop around and see her, taking flowers."

Claire asked, "What about Payton?"

"Oh crap, she could tear him apart if she's in a mood, as she will be. We'll drop him off at my mother's."

The three women, who'd played in the same hockey team at boarding school, went into a huddle and shed their tears; that act made them feel as one.

"Who's is it?" Sheila asked.

"I really don't know," Margaret sniffed. "I've been running amok lately -- sometimes two guys a night, but not together of course. I feel I'm such a slut."

"Hush dear. Don't be so cruel on yourself. It's your body crying out to be a mother."

Margaret and Sheila starred at Claire.

"Ohmigod, I think she's right," yelled Sheila, knowing someone had to say something.

"Ohmigod," the celebrated TV presenter said, clutching a straw. "You are so right dear Claire. Now tell me what I should do?"

Margaret and Sheila stared at Claire.

Claire began to sweat until she had the necessary brainwave. She pulled out her phone. "I'm calling Lee, he has the mind for this sort of thing.

Claire interrupted the call to ask Margaret was she in email contact with Clive and she said yes.

When Claire finished the call Margaret lost it. "The father's not your Lee, it's at least three years since he had me. Oh god, I shouldn't have said that."

"Margaret, who hasn't Lee fucked? I look forward to the day when some beauty we know screws up he face and wails, "He hasn't fucked me...what's wrong with me...he must know I always wear stockings?"

They laughed and then Margaret and Sheila stared at Claire.

"I'll give it to you straight Margaret. Lee said keep it simple and express no emotion. That will keep Clive focused while he decides his reaction. Lee said send an email and here are the words: 'Clive. Ooops I'm pregnant. Should I have an abortion or will you come home and be father? Marg'."

Margaret and Sheila stared at Claire, mouths open.

Claire left the room and returned with Margaret's laptop. "Just do it Margaret. Sheila and I are here to support you."

Margaret tapped out the message and her finger hovered over the SEND key. "No I can't...it's too brutal." 

Claire calmly leant over and pushed Margaret's finger down on to the SEND key. "There, all done. Now what should we talk about?"

"Coffee, I need coffee," Margaret croaked.

Margaret listened wide-eyed as Claire told her about the Stockings Top revue. Sheila tried to keep Claire from saying anything but Claire told her to shut up, it was the way to go. Even Margaret was nonplussed. 

"Why are you telling me this when you say Channel 7 will be principal sponsor? You know Channel 9 runs my show."

"It's tactics darling. You break the story so that gives Channel 9 a sense of ownership and so the two channels will battle for new lead stories about the Stocking Tops revue. We are thinking smart about this, aren't we Sheila?"

"Are we? Oh yeah. Definitely."

Margaret left her despair on the bed. She jumped up in full professional mode. "Look, if I switch my planned interview tonight to next Saturday night, will you two appear on my show tonight?"

"No," Sheila said. 

"Yes." Claire said, taking Sheila's hand and holding it. "We'll appear providing you insist Wardrobe dress us up grandly and Make-up works miracles so we both look like sexy thirty-year-olds."

"Cheating to peel back three years with the sun skin damage of you two will take miracles," Margaret said. "Okay, we have a deal."

"And we want generous appearance fees, made payable to Blewitt Street Kindergarten," Sheila said emphatically.

Margaret said fine and what a good choice of beneficiary. "Clive and I would be sending our child to Blewitt Street. If he doesn't agree to that he won't be getting you know what." She then briefed her girlfriends about the show the time they should arrive at the studio.

Strapping Payton into his safety seat before taking Sheila back to her car and then going on to have lunch at Sheila's home, Claire said, "Oh shit."

"What?"

"There will be an opening night party with the cast on the 14th."

"Well shift birthday boy's big event to late lunch Sunday. He's too smart for us to keep anything a secret from him. But we'll bowl him over with the scale of his birthday lunch."

"Brilliant. Thanks darlings," Claire said, blowing kisses at her friend.

"I don't want kiss."

"Oh listen to Little Grumpy," Claire said. "At least he's not going to be like his father. In comparison his sister is likely to be sexually active from a very young age."

"Claire, you can't speak like that," Sheila shrilled. "And the way things go in life you are likely to be wrong on both counts."

"Ah yes," Claire sighed. "Will Tammy and Matilda be home to play mothers with Little Grumpy?"

"Yes, they are currently next door with Mrs Jason. She's a former kindergarten director and just loves kids. I'll ask if she will baby-sit the three of them plus Vicky tonight while we push out our boobs and flashed our expensively maintained teeth on TV at 8:00. Thinking about that, I have to agree that tactically you are in the process of initiating on-running publicity beyond the wildest dreams of the producers of the revue and your friends at Channel 7 will be after you butt."

"Oh God, that reminds me," Claire said. "As soon as I get to your place I must call David Morgan and ask how much detail about the revue I can reveal and I definitely want to say he is attempting to persuade Monique Caas to come out and do at least a month as the main lead."

"He won't allow you to say that because is she says no, anyone else David approaches will know they are rated second-best."

"What's wrong with that -- only one can be the best as Monique is a suburb dancer with glorious legs and sings like an angel? Ohmigod, I'll tell David if he goes to Paris to plead with Monique and her agent I'll send Lee with him. Lee is a fan and has four of Monique's DVDs."

"Well, if David can't talk Monique into submission then Lee will be there to screw her into submission," Sheila laughed. "I guess you know David is gay."

"Surprise, surprise," Claire giggled. "Miss out on him did you honey?"

"God, you are almost as devilish as your husband."

"No, no, it's too early for publicity," David screamed down the phone to Claire.

"David darling, early publicity is better than publicity that is too late or no publicity. Can you tell me when you are likely to get on 'Margaret Quirk Tonight'?

"How can I know that -- her show schedule is booked up months ahead? Oh. I see."

"I'm over at Sheila's home for lunch. Come over and join us and bring the photo of yourself you like best and I have Margaret change it for the one they intend using."

"No one can tell that bitch what to do."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh, have you heard the rumor she's pregnant."

"That's impossible David. Clive put her into a chastity belt before he went to Russia."

"Is that the truth?"

"Of course. You wouldn't expect me to lie to you would you David?"

"Of course not Claire. I'm on my way as soon as you give me Sheila's address."

Every half-hour that afternoon Channel 9 broadcast the teaser. It showed a picture of stocking tops. 'This evening's program for 'Margaret Quirk Tonight' will screen next Saturday. Tonight Margaret talks sensationally to two of her friends, one of whom is married to the man who more than five years ago gave us 'Stocking Tops Day Australia'. Tonight's revelations will blow your socks off.' 

Lee arrived home tired. His wife thought, too much water-skiing and probably he found someone with acceptable boobs. Claire sent him off to shave and shower and dress suitably, telling him about the TV show and he would be picked out by cameras panning the studio audience. She took Vicky over to Shelia's home and returned with Shelia. On the way over Vicky came close to sending Claire off the road: "During the picnic I saw daddy walking off with Mrs Humphries. They may have mated."

Oh, out of the mouth of babes, thought Claire. It was unlikely they had mated because Olivia Humphries never wore stockings and had a bust no larger than 32B and had huge thighs. Very unlikely indeed.

Mrs Jason preferred to have the children stayover at her house and had her young married daughter over to assist. She had the phone numbers of both mothers and arranged for the children to be picked up at 9:00 next morning.

"Want to stayover with us?" Claire asked, as they approached her house and they saw Lee, as arranged, waiting for them on the sidewalk.

"Yes, that would be lovely. Perhaps we could double fuck Lee?"

Claire came close to running down Lee. "Was that a joke?"

"No."

"Okay...um, I suggest we say nothing about it."

The show opened with Margaret walking down steps, dressed in a black suit and a violet silk shirt and walking to the edge of the stage. "Tonight I introduce our celebrity guest among our audience, Mr 'Stocking Tops' Peach, better know to us these days as the creator of our beloved rams, Herbert and Cecil. Please stand Lee and welcome to the show where tonight you wife Claire is one of the stars. Watch the big screen everyone while I walk to my chair. This clips will bring back memories of Lee Peach's amazing event called Stocking Tops Day Australia'.

"Well, wasn't that an astonishing day. My two guests, Lee's wife Claire on the right, then Claire Cobb and Lee's business partner's wife next to her Sheila Krug, then Sheila Smith were on the five person committee that began the development of Stocking Tops Day Australia. Sheila, you two women blew me away this morning when you, as my friends, told me about your project. Let's hear it Sheila."

"Well, Lee Peach turns forty in October and I had been talking with his wife Claire about a birthday party. That evening I was sitting at a function next to David Morgan, director of Sydney's Professional Dance Group and he mentioned their next production had fallen through because they couldn't attract sufficient money to underwrite the production. I suggested they consider marking Lee Peach's birthday with a stockings tops show. He said don't be daft Sheila. Next day he called me and said he thought he could pull off a full-fledged stockings top revue providing he could find seeding capital. I opened my mouth and said I'd get that money for him and asked how much. He said four million dollars. Oh lordy."

Margaret laughed along with the audience and then said, "Fortunately for you, your best friend is Lee's wife Claire and she doesn't hide her brain under a bushel. Tells us about it Claire."

"Sheila called and I said, no problem. Ask my dad to get a syndicate going. My father Royce Cobb is a lively beef cattle breeder out Dry Creek way which is where Lee saw two rams head-butting that one day would be re-created at Herbert and the smaller ram would be called Cecil. Lee also made quite a hit out there when I first took him to Utopia Downs. The women just loved having a man in their midst who had more than a passing interest in stocking stops. So Sheila and I chartered a plane, flew out the 460 miles, landed at the sheep pens where dad was working, asked him. He said yes, we had a beer and flew back to Sydney. He and his friends have fronted up with four million dollars as an investment. Fortunately there was plenty of rain in our district during the past year.

Margaret: Four million dollars. That's scary -- what if the show bombs?"

Claire: "No fear of that happening. This will be Australia's way of belatedly saying thank you for liberating stocking tops in Australia Lee Peach."

Margaret: You have to be kidding?

Claire: Those investors out Dry Creek way do things for a cobber, and they regard Lee as a real cobber. We go out there four times a year and he's learned to ride a horse, swear like a farmer, dip sheep, castrate young ram lambs -- he hates doing that but accepts the necessity -- and he makes the women flash their stocking tops."

Margaret: Does that get on your goat?

Claire: No, I join in. Most days I flash privately for Lee's benefit.

Margaret: Ohmigod.

The audience clapped and cheered.

Claire: You are right of course Margaret. Loyalty alone won't pack out a show each night. Tell Australia about our trump card Sheila.

Sheila: Well, the score has been written; David Morgan -- that's his face on-screen now -- has made a major contribution with that. David is so brilliant. The theatre has been booked and auditions start next week. The show is to be called, A Tribute to Stocking Tops and will be rich in theatre as well as dance."

Margaret: And that's the trump card?

Sheila: We are inviting Monique Caas to star.

Margaret (when the huge applause died): Then you have her under contract?

Sheila: No, but she'll come.

Margaret: I'm sorry, but I can't see that happening. She's really big time in France, throughout Europe in fact.

Sheila: I don't think you understand Margaret. Monique Caas has worn stockings since she was eight years old. She's thirty-five now.

Margaret: Well we are running out of time. I'm sorry; perhaps you will find an Australian singer-dancer of merit to substitute.

Claire: As an understudy yes. Have faith Margaret, she will come. As Lee says, think it, believe in it and it will happen.

Margaret: Sheila, your final word.

Sheila: The part has been written for Monique. She will come. We will be staging a special performance into the season for the filming of a DVD for immediate release in Europe so Monique remains in the limelight back home. It will be a reincarnation of the Can Can; just you wait. Thank you for this opportunity Margaret

Margaret: You now have me believing I'll see Monique starring here in Sydney in The Tribute to Stocking Tops. Thank you Sheila and Claire. I appeal to Australians to support this worthy event scheduled to open on October 14, Lee Peach's birthday.

The two guests stood on either side of Margaret, their hair up and the tops down, showing acreage of cleavage. Only when they stood did it become apparent they were in Can Can costumes, with black stockings. The studio audience went wild.

As Lee drove the happy women home after a few drinks at the studio after the show he asked, "So I don't get an informal birthday event with family and friends?"




Stocking Tops Pt. 06



Sheila called him an ungrateful hound.

Claire told him yes, they'd have lunch on Sunday for family and friends. Sheila would help organize it.

Lee grinned. "Oh you lovely girls looking so sexy in those costumes; what can I do to show my appreciation?"

CHAPTER 2

Lying on the bed in their high-hem costumes, Claire and Sheila made it quite clear how they expected to be appreciated, initially be licking and then to have their pussies filled. 

The women kissed in a hug and massaged each other as Lee went about his work. He licked Sheila up to her stocking tops and then did the same to Claire and then attacked Sheila's stocking tops and when she was panting switched to Claire's stocking tops. By then they were fingering each other so industriously they that both came within seconds of each other. He then began shafting Claire. 

Sheila worked in under him to lick his balls and then to make dabs at his plunging shaft and when they completed she lapped up their liquids. Sheila then lay over Claire and as they locked into deep kissing she was shafted from behind and with Claire's finger up her asshole came in a huge gush. Exhausted, covered in goo, sweat and amid now obnoxious odors, they fell sleep, each probably thinking they preferred one-on-one and ending with a more hygienic aftermath.

The fucking phone awoke them at 6:00. It was David Morgan on Sheila's phone with great news. "Monique says she's ready to sign, subject to us meeting conditions and being able to cancel one of her existing contracts. I expect to have closure within three days. I have just spoken to her briefly and before that have been three hours speaking to her agent. He's not convinced, she's not bothered but has always wanted to visit Australia and wants to visit a rain forest, snorkel on the Great Barrier Reef and visit a sheep farm."

"That's wonderful David. She can do the reef and rain forest on the way home. She can do the sheep station on her first free weekend here when she starts rehearsals. The folk out Dry Creek way will be delighted to host her. You have done well darling. Congratulations."

The trio showered, decided they'd had enough sex and gathered in the kitchen for toast and coffee. However after a coffee fix Sheila was ready to go again, so Lee took her over the kitchen table. Pouring a coffee and leaning on her elbows watching them at it, Claire felt something within. It was the first time she's been around Lee when he was having sex with another woman in daylight. It wasn't disgust she felt, although the slap, slap, slosh noises she was hearing didn't quite fit with early morning coffee in one's kitchen. And then she knew what it was: she was proud of Lee. He was in great shape, looking like a great sex athlete as her plowed her best friend. And he was so large he looked too large to put all that away into Sheila and yet she took it like a champion. Yes, she was immensely proud of her husband.

Poor darling, he looked rather exhausted when he finished with Sheila. He raised an eyebrow but she smiled and shook her head. He did look so relieved. Those two cleaned up and the three of them went into the guest room and snatched another one and a half hour's sleep. The young girls were excited to see them as they had seen a video copy of their mothers on TV the previous evening.

* * *

Lee stayed in the background when Monique arrived to begin rehearsals. She was aware of his existence of course, and Claire had taken leave of absence from work to act as Monique's personal assistant. When arrangements were made for Monique to visit the farming district and stay with the Cobb she asked could Lee accompany them but was told he was working on business in Melbourne.

Monique, who'd attended drama school in England and spoke excellent English said, "You do not wish to show your husband to me?"

"Oh Monique -- he has the chance of winning a big new client to his business and just had to answer the call. He was looking forward to going with you to my parent's farm, truly."

"Then perhaps he can take my somewhere on another weekend."

"Yes, yes of course."

"You wouldn't mind your husband being alone with me?"

"Monique, Lee's a big boy and so long as he gives me and our family some attention, what he does is his business."

"But what say I desire to make love to him?"

"Be my guest. It could do him good."

Monique laughed and said Claire was so honest and so much fun to be with. "You treat me like a real friend."

"You're so lovely, you're worth it."

They hugged and Monique asked if she could tell Claire something, something she must not tell anyone else.

"Yes of course. Are you going to tell me you are pregnant?"

Monique laughed expansively. Oh you funny woman. No, the plan for that is next year, truly. I wish to tell you this show -- we had almost a full rehearsal yesterday -- will be a smash hit and rights to stage it should be sold for Europe and North America." 

"Oh God, Monnie. Oh God how wonderful. And now may I tell you something. My parents and their friends, scratched up four million dollars to provide the initial backing to attract the big investment needed to bankroll of full-scale production."

"Your parents and other farmers. But why?"

"Well darling, this stocking tops thing has become a sub-cultural thing in Australia and although fading is about to get a huge boost with the staging of this show. To understand it, you need to listen to this story. It began five years ago when my husband, before I met him, arrived in Australia, carrying with him a fetish for stockings."

"Yes, yes. I've heard about that...it's in the script."

"What?"

"Oh dear, I am not allow to tell you that. No one but the principals must know the story until the start of the publicity campaign."

"I'll respect the secret."

"Thanks. So your husband to be arrives in Australia. Tell me about the connection between this man and you and this man and you and your family and how is it that people who hardly now him would risk backing his story to the tune of four million dollars?" 

"His story? Are you sure?"

"I've read the full script, many times Claire. Now remember, that is hush-hush."

"Sheila the bitch! What if Lee doesn't want this?"

"Too bad darling. Now don't do anything rash to risk that four million dollars. Many investors lose money on shows but not this one if it proceeds smoothly. Fingers out, okay?"

"What does that mean?"

"I translate in my head from French. No fingers in the pie baby, huh? Now on with the story."

When Claire had finished Monique said, "So it's not just a man looking at the stocking tops of these women in the country and lying they look great, although some of they really did look great?"

"No, it transcended that. They felt liberated as if they were saluting stockings culture -- the hidden stockings culture."

"Oh no, we are missing that point in our portrayal. You must come with me and speak to our rehearsal coach. We know nothing about this concept of liberation -- the French will really love that and the American should too. And this thing about saluting stockings culture -- yes, he must sit and listen to you."

"But Monique, no one talks about such things. It's just something that came into my head and stayed."

"Yes, yes, but please understand. You have been so close to everything you have...um, what is the word in English...yes, you have been so close to everything you have rationalized the essence of what this whole thing is about. No one sees culture at the moment and as it develops -- culture is recognized after the event...er... how do you say. Ah, historically. In this case it is everyone but you...you have identified it already."

"Monique -- the term I used earlier was subculture."

"Poof, what does that matter? What you have told me just now will put real heart into our show, give it depth of meaning that exists but won't be seen until we bring it out through our acting and singing. We need a new song or an existing one changed. We need an anthem."

"Oh god, let's not screw up the production Monique."

"Poof, that is not going to happen if you tell our drama coach what you told me, as good as you told me. He will talk to the director...we will have tedious meetings...doubt will be sown...but believe me, "Viva la revolution! Viva la Stocking Tops!"

"You're scaring me Monique."

"Hold my hand Claire. We go to the rehearsal coach eh? Be of strong heart my darling."

"Viva la Stockings Tops?" That should be the name...Claire threw a hand over her mouth. Oh no, please Monique, no."

"We go and see the rehearsal coach AND the company director, eh?"

"I'm saying nothing to you in the meantime Monique. My lips are sealed."

Claire called Lee in Melbourne and told his Monique was demanding two major changes to the show.

"Don't worry darling, leads have to do that to establish their authority. What are the changes?"

"She wants the name of the show changed."

"Oh god, what to?"

"Viva la Stocking Tops."

"Oh great!"

"What?"

"I said great. That's a spunky title. Who was the genius?"

"Monique mostly."

"Offer her my congratulations."

"You can tell her yourself in a moment. She wants to talk to you. The other change involves introduction of an anthem and expressing the showing of stocking tops as a subculture."

"That sounds like you talking Claire. Have you been interfering?"

"Here's Monique," Claire said weakly.

"Hello, Monique speaking. "

"Hi Monique. I knew you'd have a great voice. Welcome to Australia and I hope my wife is not giving you problems."

"Your wife is very beautiful and a genius."

"I know. That's why I married her. A what?"

"Oh, so you heard. Men can be so slow. She talks to me and I see enlightenment and we come up with great ideas to improve the show."

"Oh god, Claire is being involved in sabotage."

"You men enjoy putting down your wives, don't you?"

"Monique, please, don't get angry with me. But please, no sabotage eh?" 

"Is changing the name to Viva la Stocking Tops sabotage?"

"No, that's brilliant and I mean that."

"The anthem to give heart to the show and the portrayal of flashing stocking tops as a subculture -- you disagree with that?"

"No, of course not. A subculture you say? Well, come to think about that it sums up the situation rather profoundly."

"You only see a kissable mouth, breasts and a whackable ass when you look at your wife. You never think of brain?"

"Perhaps sometimes."

"Perhaps rarely?"

"Okay, perhaps rarely."

"Synergy between Claire and I developed today and produced these recommended changes. Am I about to hear you are prepared to withdrawal your references to sabotage?"

"Yes, I was out of order. I withdraw those stupid remarks absolutely."

"You are such a nice man. Would be kindly take me boating this weekend, sleeping overnight somewhere in the boat?"

"Yes, I can borrow my partner's larger cruiser."

"Why does Claire not want to go?"

"She has other things to do. So it will be just you, me and my 7-year-old will wish to come."

"That's fine, it will be great having someone with a feminine mind along as well."

Lee thought of something. "Um, I better ask Claire if it's okay."

"Even without your daughter she said it was okay, that you are a big boy and know how to behave or how to misbehave."

"I better speak to Claire."

"Just organize the boat and pick me up on Saturday morning. Claire has my address."

"This is very irregular."

"Not to the French. Bye"

Lee gave it ten minutes and called Claire.

"Oh hi darling. Monique said you'd call me within the next fifteen minutes. She is sitting beside me. Do you wish to speak to her or want confirmation from me that I am delighted that you wish to take her boating?"

"Goodbye darling," Lee mumbled.

"Bye, thanks for your call darling."

Lee called James and James said the Lady Godiva was available and eighty percent fueled up and the fresh water tanks were full. "Take what you want out of the freezer but you need to provision with fresh food and the wine cabinet is a bit low."

"Aren't you going to ask who will be boarding with me?"

"I already know. Claire called an hour ago to see if Lady Godiva was available. Don't forget to bring the sex-soiled sheets ashore."

"Fuck off."

James bellowed in laughter. "Claire predicted our French lady would be a real handful for you. Sorry I'm not available to give you a hand."

* * *

Monique's phone went exactly at 9:00. 

"Good morning, we are waiting at the front door."

As Lee placed the sleepy Monique's bags in the vehicle, she whispered: "Why are you so uptight. You don't even kiss me good morning."

"Because you two have conspired for me to fuck you, that's why."

Monique could have slapped him or simply walk away offended. But she decided to be kind to the oaf. "I would like you to know this was entirely my request and when Claire said she wouldn't be coming I attempted to scrub the idea but she said no, that you would be charming, great company and if something flashed between us I was to take full advantage of it if that was my wish. We are getting along like very close sisters. Your conspiracy theory is, how do you say it in English, cow dung."

"The word is bullshit," Lee said, almost grinning. "Look, I cannot explain my hostility. I'm become so defensive about you."

"You are afraid I will belittle the reverence you have for stocking tops."

Lee gaped, realizing that was a statement, not a question.

He muttered, "Something like that."

"Well I won't and never will. Most men go for my breasts or between my legs. I'm not aware of ever meeting a man interested in my stocking tops before this, but perhaps I have. I have two pairs with me but you'll not see me in them unless I am convinced you are worth it."

"Daddy, can we go?"

"Yes dear. Sorry to hold you up. As Lee pulled down the rear door of the Range Rover he cheekily kissed Monique and lifted up into the path of the descending door.

He yelled with brief pain but avoided swearing.

Losing a slight grin she said, "You've cut your forehead."

"I have a plaster inside. Come and meet my smaller darling."

Lifting up from reading her library book, Vicky said, "Hi Monique."

"Hi darling. Ready for the big adventure?"

"Yes. Will you and daddy mate?"

Lee caught Monique as she stumbled backwards.

"Monique is a passenger on this voyage just like you Vicky," her father said, looking at Monique who had a hand over her mouth to smother the giggle.

They boarded the 42ft cruiser powered by twin turbo diesels without a problem.

"Show Monique around Vicky. Remember I sleep in the aft cabin; she may share if she wishes. Explain how the head works and get her to help you put away the food and explain the layout of the galley."

"Aye, aye sir."

Horrified, Monique asked, "Does you father make you say that?"

"No, but only one person can be in command topside. Daddy knows far more about boat handling than mummy and I so we recognize him as boss. I just like saying aye, aye sir."

"Oh. Where should I sleep?"

"You heard what he said, didn't you?"

"Well yes, but..."

"Mummy sleeps with him but she's not here. That is by far the best cabin so you decide. You really should sleep with him."

"Well I really don't know."

"Why not put your bags in the aft cabin and decide later. Make up your mind after you drink plenty of wine."

Monique couldn't believe what she was hearing. The kid was seven with a mind of a 12-year-old. Vicky went up the companionway and outside, saying she wanted to help her father with the checks. Monique called Claire.

"Oh hi, are you having a panic attack?"

Monique pulled the phone from her ear and swallowed. Claire couldn't see her, could she?

"Um, it's difficult."

"It's Vicky I should imagine?"

"Well, yes. She just seems to know everything and is telling me where I should sleep."

"Just do it darling. It is by far the best bed. I promise you this: Lee won't touch you beyond a chaste goodnight kiss unless you invite him to lick your stocking tops. Oh god, I forget to tell you to take a couple of pair."

"I-I have two pairs in my bag."

"Good girl. Now don't be over-awed by Vicky. She doesn't know everything...yet...and she panics when she lands in the unknown."

"Well, that is a comforting thought. What are you doing?"

"Cuddling Payton who's asleep now. He's having problems with his teeth."

"Oh, should we come home?"

"No, of course not. You guys should be underway by now."

"Oh God, what's that noise!"

"Just the engines. Relax. They'll idle for a while to warm up and then you'll be away. Call me whenever you wish. All I ask is that you relax and have a great time."

"You are so inspirational, so calm Claire."

"I'm a farmer's daughter darling. Good night."

"Daddy wants you up the flybridge with him."

"Oh, where's that?"

Vicky sighed and let the way and seated the Frenchwoman.

"Cast off forward Vicky and remember to wait until the stern swings out before letting so aft."

That wasn't the English Monique understood and she sighed as the young girl in pigtails and unfashionably dressed in baggy white shirt and shorts and white sneakers and wearing expensive high-fashion sunglasses said, "Aye, aye sir." Never in her adult life had Monique met a man deserving to be called sir. Most of them were rotten to the core...er...at least the type around her.

Monique, perched high above the cabin, thought it was a big boat but as they left the mariner she could see much larger ones and so many of them. The captain said, "We'll cruise down towards the heads and lunch somewhere and end up in Middle Harbor to spend the night, probably going under The Spit Bridge and find a good spot somewhere in Sugarloaf Bay."

Like Vicky, he was dressed in a white shirt and baggy shirt, sneakers without socks and sunglasses and wore a peaked cap. He looked at her.

"Claire ought to have advised you what to wear."

She bristled. How dare he criticized her friend Claire like that. "And what is wrong with what I'm wearing."

"That is a town dress."

"A what."

"A dress women in the city wear shopping."

"This thing town and then city. You are confusing me."

"Same thing."

She flared, "No it's not."

"My mom always says she's going to town when she means the city."

"And that makes it correct. Have you thought that the city may have been a town when she was a small girl?"

"When she was a small girl she lived in a village in Kent, England."

"Aaaaaarrrrgh? You men are so frustrating."

Grinning Lee looked around to see where these other men were around him but she just held her nose high, looking at the passing watercraft. She couldn't see any of the women wearing town...er...city dresses. Most were either in dresses that looked like tennis dresses or shorts and their tops were skimpy and a number were just flaunting it in bikinis. A big speedboat roared past and all the buys and the women were wearing just shorts. God, where did they think they were, the French Riviera? The women waved at her, breasts wobbling. She waved back tentatively.

"Go below and get Vicky to dress you properly. Sheila will keep spare clothes aboard, an darker sunglasses than those things designed for wearing in shops, cafes and bars."

"I'm right behind you dad," Vicki called above the throbbing of the motors. She put down a tray containing sandwiches and two empty glasses. She darted off and returned with a bottle of wine.

"I'll have water thank you," Monique said but was ignored. Vicky handed her the glass of wine. I'll fetch some of Aunty Sheila's clothes for you."

"No, she is too big up here," Monique said, pointing to her cute little breasts, drawing a toothy grin from Lee. Anyway, I have my bikini on beneath."




Stocking Tops Pt. 06



"Well take off your clothes Monique and I'll store them below. I have to keep everything shipshape."

"What, undress in front of him, even just behind him?"

"Oh don't mind daddy. Women are always undressing for him once they get drunk."

"I really don't..."

"For godsake Monique, just relax and get your gear off. You don't have to make a crisis out over every damn situation. And drink your damn wine. The more you drink the less attractive you will be to me."

Monique sat stunned but then she slowly began unbuttoning her top and heard the kid said, "It's no big deal Monique."

Sitting back on her swivel seat after dropping her skirt that was picked up and taken away but the know-all crewgirl, Monique took a big gulp of wine. Her tormentor was going to say something provocative; she knew he would.

"Great body but then you are a dancer. Show me your tits Monique."

She sighed and lifted her bikini top.

"Very nice. I thought they would be. Put them away."

She calmly undid the back and three the top on to the seat. Lee dug into a stowage slot beside him and handed her a container of sun protection spray. 

"Use that, as although we are under the canopy we do get reflected sunlight off the water. I'll do your tits if you can't reach them.

Monique relaxed, laughed and said he was such a tease. "When you go to pee I'll rub some over your cock eh? We won't want Claire frustrated because it's sunburned."

Lee looked rather shocked and finally produced a lopsided grin, but made no comment. Instead he turned on the stereo.

"This music, it's French," she said, as the introduction played.

"You have Vicky to thank for that."

"This family of yours, it's so complicated."

He laughed and leaned over the patted her thigh. She felt no desire to pull away. "You're okay Monique. In fact you are growing on me."

She thought she understood what he was saying.

"I have some unattached men working in my office. Let's look them over and you tell me which guy you would like to take you out for a drink. We can't have you become lonely and frustrated. You'll have creeps hanging around you at the theatre who'll walk away as soon as they get what they want."

"It does matter thank you, not until the show is underway. Just now I want no complications, not while I'm giving everything to my rehearsals and supporting members of my cast. I get very busy, do you understand?"

"Your commitment to professionalism."

"Oh, very good. You do understand. Maybe you are, how you say, growing on me?"

Lee laughed and she wanted her thigh patted again, but he didn't make the move. Perhaps it was the sea air but something was making her feel sexy.

Vicky arrived to collect the bottle. She held it us and accused, "You are still on the glasses I poured for you. Don't you like it?"

"No, Monique is drinking very slowly to remain attractive to me. Fetch me a beer please darling."

Monique almost purred.

CHAPTER 3

Sugarloaf appeared crowded, too noisy, too suburban, so Lee continued up to Bantry Bay and took one of the public moorings, short of the World War 2 military ammunition stores; they looked out on wooded and rocky hillsides on both sides.

Monique went to the galley to help Vicky prepare dinner and found she had low-fat fries ready to place in the oven and a big pan on the cooking top.

"It's all ready, with the table set," said the youngster. "Dad will be finished soon and then will catch fish. Want a beer?"

Monique, who almost never drank beer, took two beers out to the stern, wanting to be seen doing the fraternal thing by sucking beer straight from the bottle. But Captain Peach took both bottles from her and yelled, "Vicky, a red wine for our guest please." Monique bristled but was relieved.

"Can't have that great body of yours growing fat on beer."

Oh the darling man. She stepped forward, ran he had over his crotch and stepped back and looked innocent just as the crewgirl arrived with the wine to hear her surprised father say, "What the fuck?"

"Daddy, with have a lady aboard."

"Um sorry. Hooked my finger," Lee lied, casting out a prawn-baited hook on a hand line, weighted to sink slowly. Fifteen minutes later he'd hauled in two bream and two whiting and when he placed the first fish on to the board and pulled out a filleting knife Monique scampered.

Monique heard the crewgirl say, "She didn't even like seeing them flapping dad." 

Diner was noisy and fun, the diners talking above the loud music. The conversations revealed limits in Vicky's knowledge but Monique still thought she was the brightest young kid she'd ever met and she had met plenty on theatre tours and had more than a dozen nieces and nephews. The amazing thing was the kid was so bright and outgoing as well and we just adored her daddy. It was amazing how the two interacted. Monique listened to them talk and was thinking about starting on the dishes when out of the blue the child said, "What do you think of Monique daddy, now we have had her with us all day?"

"She looks attractive doesn't she?"

"Yes, I thought you'd say that but you like woman with big breasts."

"Sometimes small is good darling. You see it is a matter of proportion. I'd say Monique's breasts are exactly right for her slender frame and being a dancer she doesn't want tits that wobble all over the place. Dancers want them small and taut."

"She has no belly."

"No protruding belly you mean. No she doesn't and that's because she works out strenuously and dancing helps her."

"And the legs?"

"Gorgeous."

"I think so too. Monique, I want to look like you when I grow up."

"What a kind thing to say to me darling. Now should we talk about your daddy's body?"

The two females laughed and Vicky began, "We can't expect too much Monique. Daddy is almost forty, so is not a boy. But women love daddy's body, especially mummy and Aunty Sheila. Does that sort of thing not matter to ladies as they grow older?"

"Er, please allow me to clear away and load the washer darling. You talk to daddy."

Just after 7:30 Vicky went off yawning and after showering and cleaning her teeth returned and held out her hand to Monique. "Come put me to bed and tell me about your family in France." 

Looking quite overcome, Monique walked off without a word. She returned half-an-hour later and said, "Vicky is just the sweetest thing."

"Thank you. I hope you told her that."

"I did. I've never had a child of families I have stayed with ask about my family."

"It's no big deal with Vicky. She talks about what interests her which actually is rather a lot."

"You have a little treasure there; appreciate it," Monique snapped, walking to the stateroom.

"I'll be another half hour here."

"What are you doing?"

"Suggesting to a client change is required as their current campaign is looking rather stale although I'll not use that word."

"Why not?"

"They make biscuits."

"God, I can see where your daughter gets it from. With you there is a twist to everything."

"That's how Vicky's and my minds work. But she does listen to her mother and corrects her."

"I bet."

"TV reception is punk here. Want me to put on a DVD for you? We have a wide selection."

"No thank you. I'll read for a while."

Half an hour later with his laptop back in its carry bag and arms behind his neck and in reflection mode, Lee heard a noise and looked up and almost went straight over the saloon table to grab her. Monique was standing in the doorway, one hand high up the door frame, the other on her hip. All she wore was a scarlet bustier and black fishnet stockings.

"I have a little job for you," she beckoned. Lee had time to gulp before he was skirting the table, tongue almost hanging out. He thought she'd run squealing to the bed, but no. She stood her ground and said sweetly, "Oh you are interested, are you big boy?"

Lee picked up Monique gently and carried her to the bed, kicking the door closed. She'd placed her arms around his neck and was tonguing him deeply.

"I intend fucking you after the licking."

She eyed him calmly and said she'd be disappointed if he didn't.

Although she entered into the spirit of the kicking, he knew she was not overly impressed. Well, perhaps she got that done regularly in France and how could he compete with a cunt-addicted Frenchman with a bushy moustache?

Then she surprised him sensationally. Monique pulled the pillows down a bit and then hoisted her legs and pulled her feet on to the pillows behind her head. That piece of great agility presented the guy wanting to fuck her with two tight-as-a-drum rounded ass-cheeks, at the center of which was a bald pussy, slightly open and lubricated and ready for instant use.

"Straight in please."

Lee tore off his clothes and when his erection flopped into view Monique's eyes blinked furiously for half a second and she went, Hhhmmmmmmmm. 

Lee shuffled forward and his knees and placed his hands behind his neck and push in without guidance.

She smiled.

He grunted, feeling pussy encircling it all the way around. Being a dancer she'd be pliable down there so it would have the flexibility to take all he had to offer, and more. He grunted and sweat appeared on his brow. The damn woman was using her cunt muscles; why couldn't she wait until he was fully docked? She grinned, knowing he knew she was giving him a hard time. He dropped a hand and slapped an ass cheek hard. Monique relaxed in shock and Lee shot all the way in, his balls attempting to get into the act as well, and the air spilled out of her lungs.

"Okay?"

She nodded.

"Let's go easy on each other."

"Yes," she wheezed, "Like a walk through the park huh?"

With both hands he went after the small and now swelling small breasts. Lee was surprised the hard nipples were around regular size.

"You work out in the gym?" she said running her hands over his shoulders and on to his chest.

"Yeah," he smiled proudly but wondered if he'd have the stamina to give a professional dancer everything she wanted.

Lee began stroking in and out and she immediately slipped in to his timing with her rocking. They lasted well and he was pleased to see she sweated a bit. 

"When you are finishing I would like it over my chest and neck, but shoot it inside if you must."

"No, that's fine. And you'll want me to help massage it in?"

He avoided saying Claire like him doing that but the he heard Monique say, "Claire has taught you well."

Damn. He blushed like a novice.

They finished in almost an anti-climax -- no noise from Monique, although Lee had felt her belly heaving and he sighed rather than yelled. She would be disappointed in him. But if she did, Monique disguised it because she licked some of the semen off one of his hands and said she was bathing in it.

"Those big balls are not hanging there just for show," she giggled. Lee felt his chest swell.

He fetched her the glass of water she wanted and when he was back on the bed she turned on to her belly and spread her legs, without saying anything.

Mouth open, Lee looked down at the ass cheeks of a petite woman. He'd need a can opener, not lube, but no, she reached behind lifted and spread her pussy for him. Lee went at it slowly and both of them sighed and it felt good. He usually had the woman on her knees for doggy but this way felt so tight and yet Monique was lubing well so they grunted and she began shifting and soon Lee felt a couple of her fingers dancing over his rocks and that activity seemed to thicken him and she began grunting each time he thrust back in. They heated up and he put all his weight on her and she let his balls go and lifted on her hands so she could turn and kiss him while he squeezed her tits and she began panting really hard and said to squeeze her tits harder. He obliged, being a gentleman. She jabbered at him and got off hugely and he actually thought for a moment he was thrusting into water. Monique then urged him on with real gutter talk and squeezed him several times with her cunt muscles and then did so painfully. As the head of his cock pulled back against a pressure spot he exploded.

Monique said flat doggy was the best eh? He said yes...well in this case it had been. She chuckled as he pulled out with a plop. And then she presented him with what he thought was the ultimate verbal accolade: "Your Claire, she is very lucky to have you, yes?"

"Yes, and because you are just passing through our town, I was very lucky to have had these experiences with you."

"Oooooh, you are such a sweet boy," she said, kissing him and she giggled when he licked her nose.

"Now I must tell you something, one of the most apt English expressions I think: "I feel fucked."

"With my compliments and could I say I think I am too."

Monique told Lee to have a shower while she made coffee.

* * *

Lee and Vicky arrived home mid-afternoon Sunday and after greeting her mother warmly Vicky went off to her room to call friends. Lee sat with Claire and gave her a full rundown and said he and Monique had shared the stateroom, avoiding the wording they had slept together, and yes she seemed to have had a relaxing time, enjoyed herself and appeared genuinely fond of Vicky and while on the launch seemed to have gradually gotten used to him.

"That's fast work; for some women getting used to you takes years."

Lee frowned, unable to interpret that comment as being friendly, hostile or outright puzzling. He didn't tell or even suggest he'd screwed Monique and she didn't ask. Then Claire kissed him, said she was pleased to have him home and had he remembered he had another child.

"Woops, I hadn't got around to that. How's my little fellow?"

"His name is Payton and he's much better today after teething problems yesterday. He's been down for an hour catching up on lost sleep."

"Good -- let's go out for early dinner at that restaurant that has the play area he likes."

"Oh Lee, that's a lovely idea. I now won't have to feel my weekend has gone by without anything of significance happening for me, about from Payton needing extra cuddles."

"In that case it's champagne for you tonight my darling."

"Thank you darling. I'm off for a soak in the bath. Please respond when Payton wakes. Vicky will be on the phone for at least an hour.

In the bath Claire took a call and raised an eyebrow when she saw who the caller was. Well, this was the opportunity for Monique to show if her friendship was shallow or deep.

"Hello Monique. Nice to have you safely back on dry land. I'm told you had a very relaxing time."

"Er Claire, get ready for some frank talk. I dressed in just a bustier and stockings last night and invited Lee to lick my stocking tops."

"Oh Monique, I'm very pleased. How did he rate?"

"You are sure you don't mind me talking to you like this about being with your husband."

"No of course not. I knew it was inevitable, what with you being French and he being what he is. I am very pleased for you both, truly. Fucking is a way that allows some people to express their true selves and can greatly relax them. There are times when Lee leaves me absolutely legless."

They laughed and Claire repeated her question how did Lee rate.

"Well to tell you the truth some French men have very bushy moustaches."

"Oh god, how I imagine the affect of that on nerve ends. But he went on and finished the job I would hope?"

"Yes."

"And...?"

"Look Claire, this has me worried. It's not like that women usually talk this way."

"I'm fine, perfectly relaxed about it Monique and shall never say a thing to him about this conversation. I promise. I'm in the bath."

"Oh so am I. Well he's rather large and I'm rather small but I did tell him I'd had bigger ones."

"Ohmigod, you poor thing. Difficulty walking next day I would suspect?"

"Yes, that was so true, Discretion is shouting at me not to tell you too much Claire, but can I say this: I told him you were very lucky to have you. He puffed out his chest and I'm sure he took that as a supreme compliment."

"Oh god Monique, you have me playing with my vulva."

Monique laughed and said now Claire had her busy in similar manner. "I really like you Claire, I mean as a person. You are so friendly and so honest. You seem to be everything a woman should be and may I tell you this and please don't take it the wrong way: I am absolutely enchanted by your Vicky. For example, I tell you this. After she showered not long after dinner last night and came and held out her hand and asked me to take her to her bed and tell me about my family. Never and I say never have I had a child say that to me and she remained interested throughout."

"Well she would have been sincere Monique and I'm pleased she impressed you. She only asks people about things she's interested in. Like her father she doesn't converse unless she has something to say. She dotes on her father and would be a real tomboy but I work on her feminine side. You are totally feminine and stand as a great role model for her. What is it Monique?"

"The tears come. I cannot talk. I'm sorry."

"That's fine darling. Call me back in a few minutes. Now I have tears in my eyes."

At the restaurant with Claire and the kids, Lee realized he would be expected to perform that night. Claire was looking at him with goofy eyes and her foot kept bumping against his leg. Well, not a problem. He and Monique had been brought out of deep sleep that morning at daylight with Vicky slipping in bed between them so any chance of Monique taking his shaft again was gone. But it didn't matter. Vicky was in great form and gave the French woman a great insight into Australian life from a child's perspective. Then Vicky said, "I know dad, let's go out for coffee.

They'd left in the dinghy that could move at a fast clip with a 40 hp motor and only one adult man, a 120lb woman and a child aboard. They found the charismatic guys on the cappuccino boat doing his rounds of moored craft. He produced a soda for Vicky and Lee purchased two coffees and two Sunday newspapers and Vicky took them back on the incoming tide at a leisurely 8 knots while the adults sipped their coffee and read a newspaper. Vicky had then shown Monique how to fish and the two females provided breakfast, cooked it and cleaned up, so Lee hadn't had a very strenuous day. It surprised him that Claire appeared itching to get him inside her knowing he'd been with another woman. Usually when that happened -- even when Claire probably suspected woman had been Sheila -- Claire would not show any interest in him sexually for a minimum of forty-eight hours. It amazed him she allowed his wanderings to happen without wanting to cut off his cock. He accidentally scrubbed her foot. She jumped and when he eyed her and for a moment he thought she was coming at him across the tabletop.

"I'll go to the play area and hype up Payton to tire him," Lee said eyeing Claire and she smiled knowingly and right at that moment, on cue, Vicky yawned. On the way home Lee took a brief call from James.

"Problems?"

"No a breakfast business meeting tomorrow at 7:00 with Lucia and Paul Paterson."

Claire looked relieve that it wasn't a supper meeting that night. "What is the urgency?"

"James doesn't know but wondered if they want to buy us out."

"Don't be fools."

"That's what I reckon but perhaps it's they other way round, that Paterson Advertising has run into trouble."

It had been years since Claire had thrashed Lee sexually as she did that night. First she almost bit the tip off his cock when sucking it, bit his shoulders painfully twice when she was bucking into a big ejaculation for her and brought him off with a bellow by grabbing his balls and squeezing really hard.

"Want to do anal?"

He couldn't believe it. Once on they honeymoon and perhaps twice more and that had been it. Although tempted he thought she'd regret it in the morning so said no.




Stocking Tops Pt. 06



Almost as daring, she asked him to finger her while they rested. She never liked him doing that, complaining she was too sensitive. He simply ignored the request so he then learned the reasons for this Sunday Night Special.

"Darling."

"Yes," Lee yawned.

"Before we went out tonight I was talking to Monique. She's returning to France next month to complete a two-night singing engagement she was unable to cancel. She's invited me to go with her."

"That's great. Go."

"But don't you want to come?"

"She would have asked me had she wanted that to happen. You two are not having sex are you?"

"Not yet. But what say it did happen?"

"You do it occasionally with Sheila I suppose."

"Yes."

"Well I now like Monique almost on a par with Sheila, so I have no problem."

"It's a girly thing actually. Monique wants to take me shopping and to meet her girl friends and her mom had just divorced..."

"It's okay. I'd love you to go. You work hard. You deserve an extra holiday."

"Oh thank you darling. The kids will need a nanny. Who would you like?"

"Whoever you can get."

"I'll get you Jessica."

"Christ no. That woman would just love to be sleeping in the same house as me. She'd kill me. She's an Amazon and you know she's already tried me on once. "

"That time you jumped off the balcony, yes I remember. Well I will be away during the university break."

"Fine and it doesn't matter if she has a boyfriend. Perhaps that is best. I don't want my daughter thinking I do anything on two legs, given the chance."

"And what about your son?"

"He's too young to know what daddy does in that direction."

"Oh, quite correct. I'll do my best. Perhaps I could advertise a job for a gay female university student?"

"Whatever."

James and Lee were debating what fish to order when the Paterson's arrived and they were amazed how gaunt Paul had become. They rose and greeted the new arrivals as if Paul had not changed at all.

As the waitress left with the orders -- all four of them choosing fish -- Paul said, "Let's not beat around the bush. I have cancer, treatable but only just, and am going to Switzerland for four months, perhaps longer and Lucia wants to accompany me and stay with me throughout."

James said, "That's really bad news mate, really tough."

Lee said, "Yeah, you're a top operator, it's a real blow for you."

"Lucia?"

"Thank you Paul. We invited you guys to buy us out. You have the space in your near-derelict building to merge the two operations. We drew up a list of agencies to talk to and discussed it with our nineteen personnel. They voted: Support for talking to you guys was around 80% and the next favored company received 8% support, most choosing not to consider any of the others."

"So we are 'it'?"

"Looks that way," Lucia smiled. "My father has funded us and says he will give you guys a $200,000 loan for five years at 2% below the current corporate lending rate being quoted by Westpac Bank. We want more than that level of money of course and he's advised us to be realistic and to shave price off our valuation of goodwill. As you know we have some great accounts. What do you say?"

"Yeah, sounds like a promising move to me," Lee said.

"Well, I don't know," James said. "We have been successful because we've kept small."

"Listen mate, let's be honest. We should try to help out here and reap some advantage for ourselves if we can. Some Paterson personnel won't want to shift from their present corporate glass tower down to our scruffy premises in a tired waterfront area," Lee said. "I say we open negotiations. If you're worried James, remember as staff leave we don't have to replace them and we can let labor-intensive accounts go to ease the pressure."

"What's the proposal Lucia?"

"Well James, we are hoping to wind up a sale within thirty days. Paul and I believe we could achieve this cutting the loop and coming straight to you guys. The alternative is to cast a wider net and go off, leaving someone to negotiate the sale for us or to follow the complete and wider loop to seek a formal sale on the open market."

"Why not stay as you are and leave someone in charge with full authority?"

Lucia sighed and said evenly, "Well Lee, Paul and I have committed the same business noose that you and James are busily creating for yourselves. We have remained so heavily hands-on in driving our business that no one with managerial talent has stayed to percolate through to the top. Stupidly we have not cultivated our successors even though the inherent wealth was there to allow James and I to step back."

"Yeah Lucia, I know," Lee sighed. "It's all to do with passion and the fear if you personally throttle back the business will lose momentum. James and I have talked about this."

"But only talked about it?" Paul said dryly.

"Well, do we have ignition?" Lucia pressed.

Lee looked at James who hesitated and then nodded. "We have ignition guys," Lee grinned. "To be honest we need more heads in creative as new work is rolling in. If we see a deal we'll deal and get you where you ought to be Paul. We want you back here to recuperate into a new life of leisure. Shoot Lucia."

"Paul and I have appointed our business finance consultant Natasha Sabu, of Indian descent, to negotiate the sale of our business and it's orderly transition across to the buyer with power of attorney subject only to my father's approval. My father required no intermediary involvement, just involvement when the numbers are finally crunched, what is being sold and the pricing breakdown."

James shocked everyone by saying, "I would prefer a white negotiator."

Briefly aghast, Lee said diplomatically, "Well leave the negotiations to me James."

James, these days now twice the size of Lee because of hanging out with beer-swilling and pie-munching fishing mates, said "Okay Lee. It's not that there is much to negotiate over as all we would be buying is current contracts, work coming up and goodwill and assessing the costs of merging."

Lee said not forgetting company records, profiles on all personnel coming across, contact lists etc etc and of course debt and legalities including current and anticipated possible disputes.

"Well whatever," said James who wasn't interested. He asked the waitress for more toast.

Their meals arrived and Lee ended formalities by saying, "All the best with your treatment Paul. I want this deal completed, ready for signing on Thursday week if it is to go ahead. Tell your negotiator that and say that's final. If we don't sign within the next ten day then you guys will have to fall back to Plan B. This push is to get you off to Switzerland as soon as possible Paul and hopefully with all your business worries gone. Present James and me with a fair-priced deal and in all probability we'll take it because it fits our strategic plan for sensible growth."

Next day Lucia called Lee just before 10:00. "Lunch today with just you, me and Natasha at Marco's Grill at 1:00, okay?"

"Yeah, you're a great babe(Lucia was in her early fifties)."

"God, little wonder women come on to you so strongly, you flirt."

"Women like guys talking nicely to them."

"Yes, perhaps you should tell James that."

"He's okay. He's like many Australian's who have this thing about Aboriginals and to James Indians are simply another shade of black. Other than that he has few faults."

"Try telling him Natasha is at least a fifth generation Aussie."

"Won't make any difference. White is white and black is black to racial rednecks."

"Thank god we have men like you. Paul is positively running on a higher gear today thanks to you. We'll make it happen Lee but please make sure this is the right thing for you. What is the partnership sharing in your business?" 

" Our wives each have 5%, James has 25% and I have the remainder."

"Then it's your decision?"

"No, so don't wriggle you ass at me honey. We run as a democracy."

"You are such a lout, but a lovely one. I look forward to lunch. Please try to like Natasha."

"Wearing stockings will help."

Lucia drew in her breath. "Of god, then what they say about you is true?"

Laughing, Lee said, "What the fuck are you talking about Lucia? Get back to work. Bye."

Lee scratched the back of his neck wondering what 'they' were saying about him. Stockings? Well, that was true once but he was slowing down now, wasn't he? He was no longer passionate about stockings although he still went through it as an act when it was expected of him. Actually it was still there, deep down. The sight of Monique leaning against the door jam so coquettishly in stockings, beckoning to him stimulated Lee no end. He would have attempted to break through steel to get at her and fuck her. He began forming a boner just thinking about that.

CHAPTER 4

Natasha Sabu swept her long dark hair back as she applied eye makeup. She couldn't believe she was doing this -- dressing seductively for a man. She already had a man, and loved him. He was her husband and father of their two infants.

She'd been working from her home office earlier when her mother came in and said both children were asleep when the phone went and Lucia had urged her to wear stockings because she'd suddenly remembered Lee Peach really interacted with women who wore stockings.

"Put on stockings just to impress a man we're to negotiate with? Are you crazy Lucia -- I'm to negotiate with him, not to fuck him."

Natasha's mother giggled so much she slopped the two coffees she was carrying into the saucers. Natasha pushed across the tissues.

"All right I'll dress entirely in black and look real Indian. That will scare the crap out of him but don't suggest I disperse with knickers. The only guy I mess around with lives with me and I'd say that even if my mother wasn't in the office with me listening."

"You haven't embarrassed me Lucia. I've thought about it and if the guy is like that then wearing stockings is a very intelligent request, so thank you, and please relax. We don't want this guy to become edgy. I've been making enquiries and his reputation with those who work with him confirms with what Paul says -- they regard him as a guru, and a very pleasant one."

After finishing coffee and her mother left for the kitchen, Natasha called the Australian chairman of J. Hoover Advertising International and Chapman Jones called back fifteen minutes later. She pulled over to take the call.

"Chappie, interested in acquiring Paterson Advertising?"

"No? Well what about Aussie Battler Advertising?"

"Ah, that is a better response Chappie. And now for the king hit. What about both those agencies as an integrated business?"

"Fuck me? I hope that wasn't a request for me to do the filthy deed you Old Codger. So it's very, very interested is it? Well let's talk about my payment for pulling off such a tasty morsel for you, I mean my big payment."

Natasha arrived panting and apologized for being late. Lee had stood to welcome her. She'd seen him at advertising functions a few times, but never this close, and on TV of course. Her knees felt shaky so she eased them apart and then had the flash vision of Lee pushing them hugely apart. She gulped and nodded to him.

"Don't I get a kiss? Lucia kissed me."

She thought he meant on the lips but when they drew apart and he looked surprised she realized he'd expected a cheek kiss. You fool. Well as least you didn't tongue him. 

"White wine" she blurted when he'd opened his mouth to ask and she cuddled Lucia around the shoulders and sat down, facing Lee, feeling rather shattered.

"Natasha's has two little kiddies -- but you wouldn't think so with her figure, would you Lee?" 

Natasha's vision of expressing milk into Lee's mouth almost terrified her. She buried her face behind the menu and coached herself, "Act professionally, act professionally," and before Lee could finish thinking about how to answer Lucia's stupid question she lowered the menu and said, stuttering, "Y-you guys run a tight s-ship."

"Why thank you," Lee said, obviously relieved at the turn in conversation. "We believe we and Paterson are near the top of the crop of little fellas."

"Yes, and one imagines the industry recognition of that in its awards underpins what you say."

Lee nodded and said to her breasts, "The merger of our two firms, if that occurs, could bring the big boys courting us with their checkbooks open."

Natasha almost fell off her chair. God, was this going to be one of those luncheons one would never forgets? "Yes, I suppose you could be right," she said, trying to slow her breathing rate. "And what would your attitude be to any such approach?"

But Lee was noncommittal, fully in control. God, the asshole would be a tough negotiator she thought after he replied, "My office door is always open."

After they waved Lee off, Lucia, quite uptight, asked: "Well dear, what do you think."

"Sorry about my bad start. That request to kiss him threw me after what you'd told me about his race bigot partner."

"But you got going and did well. He's going to be a tough ass to negotiate with. You've all Paul and I have got to allow us a quick exit."

Natasha kissed Lucia goodbye and said she had a good feeling a good deal would eventuate. "That two hundred grand offer from you father paves the way for a deal."

"We can thank my mother for that. When I made the suggestion to dad and he wondered about trusting Lee and James my mother said, 'You can trust any guy who worships stocking tops David'. I had no idea mum knew who Lee Peach was."

Returning home Natasha knew her panties were damp. She patted the area and said, "Yes my girl, we have the hots for him. We are going to fuck Lee Peach if that what it takes to get a done deal."

* * *

Lee called the other three shareholders (stockholders) together and discussed the proposal. It was agreed not to make statements to staff or the media. The agreement was to confine comment to, 'Yes talks between the two companies are proceeding, but that is all we can say at the moment'. Lee told James and their wives he was optimistic the deal would go through. "Make enquiries about that space behind us James and have the owner enquire about knocking through walls. It's a steel structure so they shouldn't be any problems."

As arranged, Natasha met Lee at Paterson's Agency next morning. Lee grinned at the opulence thinking when staff visited his premises they would be horrified and begin making job enquiries elsewhere. But as the day wore on he modified that opinion, finding that environmental opulence was not everything. The premises were on the second floor of the glass-encased tower block and the noise from outside was noticeable, despite double-glazing and the office hum was from the elevators, computers, air conditioning and bad acoustics were a problem for him. There was no 'people' hum, the very thing he and especially James had from the outset worked hard to generate and maintain. James was adamant: 'Advertising agency is all about the interaction of people, not computers, wall art and beautifully-framed degrees and diplomas'. How right you are buddy Lee thought, watching Natasha's swaying ass she led him back to Paul's office for the next session of talks with the financial controller.

Natasha was under pressure, and recognized that. Paul and Lucia had promised to keep relaxed during this period of 'due diligence' but they hadn't and she understood their anxiety. Paul had cracked first, with Lee saying without any real criticism, that the ratio of bad debts seemed rather high. Paul had blustered and that had resulted in Lee asking for a full report on action over bad debts for the past two financial years and the current situation with each debtor.

"But that will take hours to compile," Paul had protested.

"Under property accountancy procedures with the right input, correct debt recover systems and a competent person to output the information I require, the info would be to me within thirty minutes, Lee said quietly."

"Well perhaps our financial systems are not as good as yours," Paul had choked and Lee had said, "Take it easy mate." Lucia had come running to see what the fuss was about because Paul had been shouting and that soured her humor so when she refused to answer Lee why the attribution rate was so high he'd spiked her by saying was it the 'rats leaving the sinking ship syndrome' Lucia ran off crying. Natasha had apologized on Lucia's behalf and Lee had grinned saying it was better she'd run off crying rather that leaping at him and hitting him. Natasha invited Lee to go across the street for coffee. 

"Good idea; we all need breathing space."

Over coffee Lee asked about Natasha's background and just as she thought they were becoming friends he asked, looking at her breasts, "Are you feeding a baby/"

She snapped. "How dare you ask that...that's absolutely disgusting."

"Seemed to be an okay thing to me to ask when we are here talking socially."

"Well it's not," she said ready to blow a boiler.

"Natasha, please accept my apology. I was out or order."

"What?" This couldn't be happening, she thought. Everyone said the guy was so damn arrogant.

"I opened my mouth too far and invaded your privacy. I behaved like an ass."

Natasha took a big breath and said, "Thank you. I weaned Rimi almost a month ago. If you must know I've had powerful breasts since in my late teens."

"Powerful breasts? I am privileged to have you sharing that with me."

Natasha's mouth opened so wide she could have swallowed the coffee cup. She decided it was safer no to speak.

"About tomorrow," he said, bringing relief for her. "I think we should exclude Paul as he should not be placed under stress. Suggest to Lucia she book a small meeting room in a hotel near here. Just a coffee maker; no other service. We'll go for a walk and eat elsewhere."

"That's an excellent idea. You are going to have a problem with staff integration. Paterson's salary ceilings are rather high by industry standards."

"Well, there are bound to be tears and ranting over that and our first loyalty is with our own staff, particularly those who measure up. What say we set aside next Tuesday for you to visit us, have a look around and then sit down with me, my wife Claire and James's wife Sheila and work out a draft personnel integration fit? James my business partner will be in Brisbane next Monday and Tuesday."

"Judging by the way you said that, it was with relief."

"James is racially prejudice, not matter how long the non-white people have been resident in Australia."

"Oh."

"It's a bitch isn't it?"

Natasha grinned and said Lee could be so humorous and so disarming at times.

"So the breast thing is behind us?"

"No, they remain in front of you. But yes, my moment of wanting to hit you is over. You are an appealing guy."

"And that's a professional comment?"

"Up yours."

They finished the meeting just before 2:00 next day, working right through with only two coffee breaks. Lucia was in a hurry to leave. Lee told her about the arrangement for next Tuesday and said Aussie Battler Advertising would pay Natasha's fee for that day.

"No, I see that assessment as part of due diligence on how any merger is going to work. We will pick up Nat's tab for that day."

"Thank you Lucia," Lee said. "Please inform Paul everything is going well. Now off you go and why not arrange an assessment meeting over lunch on Friday, with four of us and you two and Natasha and add your father and mother if you think that's a good idea."

"Friday, are you sure that's not too early?"

"No, my partners will have questions. My mind after today's work is made up. It's now only a matter of please but please don't indicate that to my partners."

"Oh god."

"It's simply a business deal Lucia but kiss me if you like to show appreciation of me coming with you this far."




Stocking Tops Pt. 06



Lucia kissed him, and pushed back Lee's unruly fringe that just landed roughly back where it was as soon as she removed her hand. "You are such an engaging young man."

"I'm over the hill soon Lucia, about to turn forty."

"Age will sit gracefully with you Lee, mark my words. You are that type."

Lee picked up the house phone and as Natasha returned to the room he said, "What now?"

Sex had not been far from Natasha's mind since Lucia had suggested they work through so she could leave early to get back to Paul. She had been occasionally having these flash pictures of Lee sucking at her nipple ever since he'd made the comment about feeding her youngest baby. He'd asked what now. Well, they say seize the moment and here was the moment. She made a great thing of licking her top lip and noted he was trying hard not to grin or perhaps leer.

"Grilled chicken with salad and white wine served in here and then lock the door?

She nodded and began making some calls. Lee ordered and he called his office.

After the trolley was wheeled in and the waiter left, Natasha locked the door. "So you want sex?"

"Wait, not too fast. How many times have you committed adultery?

She looked down at the floor and replied.

"I'm not sure I heard you Natasha."

"My score is nil."

"Well, then let's mess around a bit and then have lunch. I find you very attractive and it's with regret you'll leave here with the score remaining at nil. Do you accept that?"

"Yes, it's not such a bad idea as you won't leave here thinking I screwed with you to get my bonus."

"Well personally I think women would get a lot more from men if they used their pussy as a bargaining tool."

"I would have expected a comment like that from you. I happen to agree with it."

"Right, would you like to remove you suit, slowly as I pour the wine while watching."

"Is that all?"

"No, remove your bra.

"What about my panties?"

"Yes please."

"And my panty hose?"

"Don't be a fucking tease Natasha. You are wearing stockings and have done so whenever I've been with you."

"Oooh, x-ray vision eh?"

"Something like that. Now get your clothes off or I'll come over and paddle your ass."

"Oooh, yes please. That will make me come copiously."

"In that case I'll thud your ass with the edge of my hand.

"Please pour the wine Lee and watch me undress. You have made me so excited."

Natasha was surprised to see Lee strip off. If he wasn't going to fuck her, why bother?" 

She soon found out. 

The size, although it was only half-erect, was impressive and looked about the same size as her husband Freddie's cock. She imaged that pumping up her ass and shuddered with delightful tingles running through her.

While Lee licked her stockings she hummed, played with his hair and ran her fingers over his neck and shoulders. His cock was now as stiff as her car's gearshift. She threw her head back as he slobbered over her stocking tops and sucked and continued the zig-zagging play between stocking tops and flesh between both legs until she was unable to withstand the pressure and released a mini flood amid a huge sigh. He heard the sigh and quickly moved into position and lapped her juices. 

Lee came up with juice in his mouth and kissed her, leaving her to force open his mouth with her tongue to release her juices into her mouth. She'd prefer the thought of semen mixed in it as well, but not to be. Still, he performed the ritual perfectly and she squeezed him affectionately.

Natasha felt Lee reach down for pussy juice and wet his cock. He then began titty fucking her and she applied side pressure, allowing him to twiddle her nipples. But he was probably used to women with smaller and very firm breasts so Natasha yanked him up and took him into her mouth and the grunts told her she'd hit a home run. She preferred being on top and controlled angle and being able to get more length down her throat but it was fine. She saw his head being thrown back and his face taking on red and purple tinges. He scrambled back down her and she counted one, two, three, four tugs and he began spraying over her chest and face.

"Oh my god," he drawled.

"What?" she answered with concern.

"My white semen over your dark skin -- it looks amazing."

"Lick it up you filthy little white boy and then spit it down the throat of Aunty Natasha."

They looked in surprise as Lee's unattended erection jerked and two small dollops of sperm landed on Natasha's belly.

Lee licked up a bit but then Natasha hugged him down on to her and they kissed and tongued for a couple of minutes before she went off to the toilet followed by Lee who wet a hand towel and began cleaning up.

As they were eating Natasha said, "I regret not being fucked but for a non-fuck your performance was magnificent."

"Our performance," Lee corrected. "I must say Aunty Natasha, for an Aussie you are real good in your preamble to real fucking. I have a huge idea of what I am missing."

* * *

Both companies announced to their staff on Friday afternoon over drinks that the Paterson Advertising had been sold to Aussie Battler Advertising and that the sale would be announced in the press next morning.

During the Friday party at Paterson's, Lee and Natasha arrived and were introduced to staff. From Monday Lee would manage the company during the next four weeks as it wound down and clients and service personnel were notified and continuation of business was discussed. Natasha would perform all of that month as human resource manager while continuing her commitments as a business consultant.

Lee told the assembly. "It will be sad for you guys to see your company fold but there it is. Paul's health comes first and I think we would all agree he and Lucia have done the right thing, from their point of view, by opening merger talks with our company. I invite all of you to arrange times with Natasha to go down to the waterfront and look over our operation." 

"The premises may appear to some of you no better than an outside latrine at an army camp or a country dog show but it's what we do inside that building and who our staff interact that may surprise you, perhaps even astound you, because we operate a different culture. The thing is we invest in people and their working tolls, not in high rentals and lavish décor. You won't be aware of managers or supervisors in our outfit, but a few people like myself pop up to act as facilitators or act as leaders when things get bogged down. But enough of this. Resign and leave tonight if that seems the best thing to do or alternatively give Aussie Battler a go. As from Monday I begin working through a schedule of talking to each one of you who wish to be reemployed by Aussie Battler on similar but not necessary the same terms of engagement you have now. Others not wishing to transfer should had in their notice to Mal Chippendale but don't bother to try to talk to me because I'm interested only in moving forward, not listening to complaints. Now, to give Paul and Lucia Paterson the farewell they deserve. Here comes the food and champagne I wish to provide for this party. I'll be off now because to some of you I am the enemy. Thank you."

There was a huge buzz as Lee walked over to Lucia and they kissed, hugging tightly, and Paul and Lee hugged, and when Paul stepped back everyone watched as he took off his spectacles and wiped his eyes.

"Stay Lee, you're not the enemy," called a big blonde who looked 6ft 6in tall. She began to chant, "Stay Lee, Stay Lee, Stay Lee."

"Will this make you change your mind Lee," shouted the blonde, leaping on to a table to exhibit her stocking tops.

Lee threw a salute at her and picked up the glass he'd been drinking from. People crushed forward to speak to Paul, Lucia and Lee.

"You're off to a great start," Lucia shouted above the din, kissing Lee again. "We put out a lot of info to our staff to make sure they knew enough about your industry achievements to respect you. Now after hearing that brilliantly friendly and no-nonsense speech, they are ready to befriend you."

"Christ Lucia, you got me going there for a moment. I thought you were about to say you love me -- not with all the guys and some of the hard-ass looking women you have on you team."

Lucia laugh and Paul said, introducing the tall blonde to Lee, this is Polly Blackett who heads our retail creative team."

"Hi Polly."

"May I kiss you?"

"Of course Polly, my wife's not here.

James arrived later and towards midnight he dropped Lee off on his way home in a cab. They'd pick up their vehicles in the morning.

* * *

Early next morning, head splitting, Natasha took the phone from her husband.

"Hi, it's Chappie (Chapman Jones, Australian chairman of J. Hoover Advertising International). I see in my morning newspaper the deal between those two companies has been completed. What is your advice?"

"Well first, in performing freelance consultancy work for your company, I must disclose I have been engaged for the next month to facilitate the integration of staff."

"Wise move. Someone in that company is astute."

"Lee Peach."

"Don't give me that crap. He's a fucking playboy."

"I can't force you to accept good advice Chappie."

"Well, our team will sink him if it comes to negotiations. Give me what I want to know."

Natasha told him: "Instruct me six months from today, not a day earlier. I have the inside running so you'd be a fool to go in sooner or cut me out."

"No, I'm a patient man. I'm writing down that date now and so better had you. I don't want to have to call you home from vacation."

"When you have toddlers you don't have vacations or can't you remember back 100 years."

Chappie laughed. "Cheeky bitch. Little wonder you are my favorite business consultant."

Chapman Jones served as chairman of the board for five corporations and performing a civic duty was the unpaid chairman of the Sydney Dance Trust and the principal fundraiser for the trust over the years through soliciting corporate donations. The Dance Trust had several companies under its wing, the most successful one being the Sydney's Professional Dance Group, headed by David Morgan that was preparing to launch the stocking tops revue.

TO BE CONTINUED AS STOCKING TOPS 7 



Stocking Tops Pt. 07



CHAPTER 1

The weekend couldn't come fast enough for Claire Peach. In Lee's first days working in the extremely up-market offices of Paterson Advertising he'd arrived home grumpy and muttering about environmental harassment.

The sore head was even sorer when he arrived home on Thursday night.

"Darling, you are just not an ivory tower person but then again think about all those stocking tops around throbbing thighs imprisoned in those corporate structures each day."

"Stocking tops can go and get fucked." 

That was an unbelievable comment from Lee but his wife battled on bravely.

"They probably will after work finishes," Claire said, and with that greeted by a scowl she knew Lee had it bad. "Look Debbie and Christie and their husbands are going to a restaurant tonight that has mini theatrical acts between courses. Should I attempt to book at their table?"

"No, you go. I'll look after the kids."

"Their names are Vicky and Payton Lee."

He glared at her. 

"Oh god, I'm taking you out to get you drunk so you can relax. Claire tried their regular baby sitters and luckily because of the short notice scored with the third university student who loved coming to their house with the huge plasma TV screen. The company purchased one for Lee and one for his business partner James Krug, ostensively to watch their ads and the ads of main rivals, but James' wife Sheila and Claire giggled that the big screen installation was for the guys to watch 'Playboy Mansion'.

At the restaurant Claire ordered an extra handle of beer for Lee. "He's having bad days at the office due to the hostile environment," she explained.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing." said Debbie's Joe. "All the advertising agencies I've been in are crammed with blonde chicks spilling tit over the top of tops and their skirts are above their hips."

"Yeah, but listen to the same bitches complaining relentlessly about supermarket prices, wanting time off because the kids have colds or being terrified because they've missed a period and farting because they ate pizza with onion the previous night."

Debbie and Christie who were sitting on either side of Lee looked as if they wanted to sit at another table or at least swap to put their husbands alongside the mutant called Lee.

Joe asked, "What the fuck is environmental hostility? Toilets blocked with condoms and bird shit falling off the rafters?"

Debbie now looked if she wished she'd left Joe at home.

"The air-con has to be turned up higher to offset sun heat radiating through the glass, so people talk louder over the higher noise. The elevators whirl, zoon, click and clunk all day – we have six of them running on the wall against the office where I'm stationed at all this month and..."

Claire had been thinking she'd better take Lee to another table but looking around saw the restaurant was jammed – unusual for 7:00 on a Thursday night she thought. Then she had an idea so interrupted Lee, "Darling, I'm sure everyone would be more interested in hearing about Polly Blackett."

"Polly Blackett, you know Polly Blackett?" Christie said, moving closer to Lee.

"Well, we are talking over this advertising company that's a little bigger than our company," said Lee. "When the bad news is given to the staff of this other company they became very grumpy indeed. So I attempt to give them this morale-boosting little speech and prepared to fuck off before becoming stiff-armed by some of the women or had my teeth re-arranged by some of the ugly guys when this blonde pipes up and invited me to stay. She jumps on to a table chanting for me to stay, others join her and she shows me her stocking tops."

"Oh Lee, you're still not into that childish practice are you?" said Debbie.

Mac help up his handle (tankard) and said, "Atta boy Lee. I bet that addiction has gotten you more fucks than feeds." 

Christie thumped her husband and told him to shut up. The other couple at their table was all ears.

"This blonde is 6ft 6in tall and would weigh in around 210lbs I would think but no way am I going to ask how much she weighs," grinned Lee, looking more like his old self. "I could understand why the other staff seemed a little scared of her because when she stands in your face she's as big as an outdoor latrine. Then I find she's a former female heavyweight boxer who retired undefeated with eleven international fights under her belt. What's under that belt would be a cave I reckon."

Even all the woman laughed.

"Well, although Polly Blackett is creative director of retail work she's taken upon herself to fetch me coffee, even when I don't want it. When I go to sit beside someone in the café at lunchtime two people move out quickly because they see Polly coming and she takes up the space of two ordinary people. She dusts my office twice a day and if my phone goes and I'm not in my office Polly hurdles two desks to get to it before the ringing stops. I'm supposed to be her boss but I get the feeling I'm her mascot."

When the laughter subsided the choice of soup or prawns was served and then a male and female came on stage and told jokes. It was quite entertaining. Then a family of four Chinese jugglers who were excellent performed. A one-act play followed the entrees and after the main course the compere announced as a special treat, four of the cast rehearsing for the sensational new musical, 'Stocking Tops' would perform for them. 

"The full name of the show and other details are being announced on the last Saturday of this month," said the compere. "We ask that no photographs be taken so if you see anyone using a camera or pulling out a mobile phone please call a waiter and that camera or phone will be confiscated. Many of the cast have been dining here regularly and want to produce this teaser for you to judge your reaction. Please don't over react otherwise it won't be a test. Thank you. So, take hold of your seats as we present our excerpt from 'Stocking Tops'."

"This is being attributed to you isn't it Lee?" said the other woman at the table. "I'm David Morgan's mother and this is my other son Jason."

"Oh hi Mrs Morgan. I'm Lee's wife Claire and spend a lot of time with Monique." Claire then introduced everyone.

Three young women, looking gorgeous in bright red and black Can Can costumes walked on stage to warm applause and began a dialogue.

"My mother used to wear stockings as a girl, went into tights for years but after Stocking Day Australia never wore pantyhose again."

"My mother and mother wear pantyhose but when they dress up it's always panty stockings."

"I was eighteen and wore stockings on my first date with this guy and late that night he said I looked sexy in stockings."

"What was a guy looking at your stockings on your first date?"

"Oh, he had curly blonde hair and looked a little like Lee Peach and I knew I'd show Mr Peach my stocking tops so I said, 'Ruben, I'm going to give you a real treat. Please be gentle with me."

The performers grouped and giggled and one said. "Listen."

The other two cupped their ears but said they heard nothing.

The performer who said she'd heard something commented, "Lee Peach single-handedly liberated women in Australia on that eventful day a little over five years ago when he inspired women to flash their stocking tops. Probably three million Australian women flash on that day."

"But there were others involved including James Krug and Sheila and Claire who later became Lee Peach's wife.

"I bet she gets her stocking tops licked every night"

(Everyone at the table including Lee looked at Claire who shot her hand over her mouth in embarrassment).

"Don't be so disgusting Miranda. Teenagers wearing stockings could be corrupted by that comment."

"Charlotte, I have my stocking tops licked recently. It's not about sex really, it's about love and I think the freedom to flash our stocking tops when we feel perky is a god-given right?"

"An assumed right surely, not god-given?"

"Well okay. No need to get picky."

The sound of light, throbbing music came from behind stage.

"Listen, I hear something."

"So do I."

"It's what I heard before – the long ago heartbeat from the womb and now the baby is a woman, in early maturity and anxious to celebrate her freedom."

"How can you tell that?"

The third performer said, "You see nothing."

"I feel it; listen."

"Yes, it is a woman."

"Yes, and singing. You seem to know who it is. Who is it?"

"I don't know who she is but she sings for all of us. Here she comes..."

The music from behind the stage wound up into a heavy beat...

(Claire called to Lee: "They're done it; they've introduced an anthem. He signaled with an upturned thumb).

There was a large thunderclap and Monique appeared on stage, pirouetting and then falling into the splits facing the audience and slowly she rose, resplendent in a lime and black Can Can bustier with spaghetti straps and black lace-up across the bodice, long black gloves, with cutaway petticoats and lime skirt edged in wide black lace and the front of the skirt sweeping around her legs to be gathered just above her groin, revealing black panties and coarse black fishnet stockings. As she rose slowly to full height the music changed to the strident anthem and she began singing it accompanied by the three chorus girls.

(Claire looked across at Lee; he was dabbing his eyes and she began crying, letting the tears fall. Claire looked around and apart from just a few men and two women, everyone else appeared less than entranced. Monique's voice was clear and she boomed out the words in praise of stockings as being a gift to women and because of the national event known as Stocking Tops Day Australia the right of women to exhibit themselves within reason, to fell free about it and to celebrate there freedom in that way had been recognized by Australians and could never be taken away from celebrating women.)

As the anthem reached its finale the four women joined hands as they dropped their skirts to the floor to show their stocking tops. They raised their hands high and smiled up at the ceiling in joy, as the curtain fell.

There was a silence and then capping begun. But there was no cheering and the applause clearly was lukewarm. Claire looked at Lee, devastated; he smiled at her weakly and shrugged. The cast behind the curtain must have been devastated as well, because there was no curtain call.

* * *

Claire choked, "Lee please take me home" but as he went around the table to him he said to the others, "Claire has been on the sideline with this production and the reaction here tonight by the audience has been a bit of a disappointment for her. We are going backstage and will return in fifteen minutes."

They left the room. 

Claire, shaking said, "It's a disaster. Through my stupidity I've lost my father and friends $4 million."

If she expected sympathy from her husband, Claire was left groping. All Lee said=was, "Do you think so?"

She bawled and was virtually dragged to backstage via the cloakroom passage.

The four women were grouped around David Morgan. Monique broke away to hug Claire and she wept, "There will be no trip to Paris for you my friend. This is a disaster. David, this is Claire's husband."

"Of course Lee, how are you man? Well, we came close to bringing the house down – collapsing it, I mean."

"But you have a tradition, 'The show must go on.' Is that correct?"

"Yes, but in this case..."

"How many people are there in the cast?"

David swallowed and said thirty-three and one guy who symbolizes Lee.

"And is what we saw representative of the show?"

"Pretty much. Although it's the finale the show is a mix of dialogue broken up by dancing."

By then everyone was listening to the two men.

"Fairies at the bottom of the garden stuff."

"I beg your pardon."

"I saw no drama – and the show has been called a musical. How many songs are there?"

"Four. But we call it a celebration. Someone in the media called it a musical and the name has sort of stuck. We call it a celebration of stockings."

"Do the chorus girls show their stockings all the time."

"Yes, from first-entrance."

"Where's the drama in that?"

David looked pained. "Lee the theme is a celebration."

"Yes David, and a celebration with little drama and no surprise...am I correct?"

"I think you should be talking to the producer and director."

"David, you are the boss. I'm talking to you. There is one month to opening right, my birthday, right?"

"Yes."

"Well this is time to make changes, big changes, and it could work if you have a dedicated crew."

"We have a dedicated crew but I resent this interference."

"David, listen to me. You have an artistic streak in you but you work as an administrator and as I understand it you largely wrote the script."

"Yes."

"And as an administrator interfered with the stage management and direction."

"I resent that comment."

Lee knew he was making little headway so switched tack. "David, do you know the name of my advertising agency?"

"Yes, Aussie Battler."

"Good, and that's the spirit needed to get this production up and running on the right track. When are rehearsals tomorrow?"

"Starting at 10:30."

"Good. I invite you to come to my office at 8:30 and watch who serves us coffee. That will be the start of ideas I am developing in my head. Also recognize the need to add another either to ten guys to the cast."

"Lee, I really don't think so. In fact..."

Claire interjected. "Shut up David. This is probably your best chance, although a slim one. Like you Lee is primarily an administrator but he's probably the world's top authority on stockings. Monique, do you believe in Lee?"

"Yes Claire I do, absolutely. David, give Lee all day tomorrow to get through to you. We are frightened as this has been a big shock to us tonight. It wasn't your idea for us to perform here tonight, but it delivered although not was we expected. Don't wallow in pride David."

Lee held out his new business card. David took it and said he looked forward to playing games with Lee in the morning.

As Claire and Lee returned to their friends, Claire said she hoped Lee knew what he was doing. "Somehow I feel a lot better."

"Thanks Bubba, you swung it for me with your comment in there."

"Bubba? You haven't called me that for years."

"You came through for me darling, just when I'm bored up to my teeth. I'm an ideas guy, not a nit-picking admin guy. I'm really glad I came here tonight and had my bell rung. You get Bubba when you come through for me and a present as well."

"Oooh. What kind of present?"



CHAPTER 2

David's mouth shot opened and he attempted to back-pedal his chair and he whispered 'Holy crap" to Lee. 

Polly Blackett said 'Hi' as she handed David his coffee but noticing his shaking hand placed it on the desk beside him.

"Who's this little darling boss?"

"David Morgan, but back off Polly if you are thinking of taking a bite. His preference is not women."

"Thank you for that useful information boss. He still looks cute though."

After Polly handed Lee his coffee he said, "Polly, despite his preference David would like to see your stocking tops."

"Yes boss," Polly said, facing David and hoisting.

It takes time to look at almost 3ft of stocking leg, still very muscular leg because Polly still works out and run circuits of a park most evenings to keep her weight down.

David, eyes rather huge, completed the inspection and gulped. "Holy crap Polly, you have magnificent legs considering."

"Considering?" she almost snarled.

"I meant considering you are a giant."

"Oh thank you," Polly said beaming. "Is that all boss?"

"Yeah, get your butt out of here. We want you to come with us at 10:00 to watch a stage rehearsal and meet the cast."

"Okay."

David scratched his head." Aren't you interested to ask what for Polly? I'd like to know what for."

"The boss will tell me when he's ready."

David said no when Lee asked had he had breakfast. Lee grabbed his jacket and took David out to a café and talked to him about eight bikie girls who wore motorcycle boots, fishnet stockings, something that represented a skirt and leather jackets with support from their tattooed motor-cycle gang guys who interrupt a rehearsal. They tell twenty girls of the chorus rehearsing for the celebration of stockings production to take off their stockings or get flattened. The head of the chorus asked why and the female leader of the pack snarls, "Because you uptown tarts are bringing stockings into disrepute, turning them into vaudeville." 

A slapping and hair-pulling fight begins between some of the motorcycle chicks and the cast while the bikies and the rest of the cast gather to stop it...

David listened bug-eyed and when Lee had finished he asked, "Are you sure you haven't been a scriptwriter?"

"Of course not, but I was an active member of the drama group at university and as well as presenting plays we were lectured on theatre as it was part of the studies of those club members taking drama studies and who were the majority."

"Interesting. So let me get this straight. Most of the show runs as a rehearsal?"

"All of it apart from the final seven minutes when the bikie gang and the cast settle their differences and everyone including the drama coach, dance coach, director, state manager and producer settle their differences and the director yells, "Now let's run though the finale. The dialogue we heard tonight takes place, everyone takes their position, the music booms and Monique, dressed only in stockings and a thong enters backstage singing the anthem with the cast changing softly, 'Stockings, stockings, stockings..."

"I like it. We would like to make changes – er, the director and producer I mean."

"That's fine. We'll all in this together mate. We must save the show and it must go on."

David smiled. "Would you like to repeat all the changes as you have outlined to me to the cast when we face them this morning."

"Yes. I'll feel safe with Polly standing beside me."

Lee had after-lunch coffee with Claire and told her about the success he'd have with David and then with the cast. Clair was delighted and excused herself. When she returned she said, "Darling, if you think this is unethical I want you to bury that thought. Artistic people don't understand that bad publicity is as good as good publicity provided there is an upturn."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Just drink you wine dear. A reporter and photographer from The Telegraph are on their way here to talk to us about the show and will call in on David and the cast on their way back to their office."

* * *

That evening Monique arrived for later dinner. Although it was school next day Vicki (she now insisted everyone call her Vicki with an 'i') was allowed to wait up to see Monique and the visitor put Vicki to bed. Vicki was told about the things children Monique knew in Paris did after school.

Monique embarrassed Lee when telling Claire how inspirational Lee had been in motivating the cast who's heard about this disaster with the presentation at the restaurant the previous night. "He spoke so well and with an urgency that made an impression on us. His ideas seemed like a patch-up but I think we can blend them into what we have already developed. It must be seamless you know otherwise discerning people in the audience will notice, including the critics. This Polly, she is now with us a she is awesome. Everyone looks up to her," Monique giggled.

"Polly, what is she doing there?"

"Plenty Claire, she will be quite pivotal in the rearranged production."

"B-but what does Polly know about acting, dancing or singing? Nothing I would think."

"Quite right Claire, absolutely nothing. But your clever man here says the part he has suggested for Polly requires her just to be herself. We have discussed this and we think the audience will laugh and take the side of Polly that she will become a star and she will leave them...how do you say?"




Stocking Tops Pt. 07



"Gobsmacked," Lee grinned.

"And Polly will leave even the critics gobsmacked."

"This is making me nervous," Claire said.

"Poof, you should see the producer and director tearing at their hair. But unbelievably David appears so calm."

"David? But he's as flaky as they come?"

"I think I know what you mean Claire but he has been motivated by Lee and now sees us on opening night with real vision. Until now his heart really wasn't into this production. He's now saying it is Can-Can meets West Side Story and many of today's audiences won't even see the connection."

"I know what he means. God, this really might work, especially in Australia."

"We also now will have seven songs. That doesn't make it a musical – we are going back to calling it 'A Tribute to Stocking Tops'. Lee has convinced us not to make it what it isn't and I know what that means. I have access to these songs in France. All have a soft rock beat, and they are now being translated into English and modified. So your trip to France with me is back on track because I have to do a recording of those songs that are to be released in October a tribute to stocking tops. The French won't see the connection, but there are lots of things the French people don't understand and it doesn't seem to matter. This is part of the deal negotiated by my manager and gets these budding song writers on the verge of breaking through as because of my involvement the CD is bound to go at least to platinum in France."

"The French don't understand but that doesn't matter and will still buy hundreds of thousands of the disc because it has your name and picture on it. I think I understand."

Claire and Monique went into a giggling fit. Lee rolled his eyes and went to fetch coffee.

After they waved Monique off in her cab, Lee went back inside, arms around each other. Claire was wearing her new bracelet and loved his choice.

She removed some of the things from the table, assisted by Lee, and then hitched up her skirt and leaning back into the cleared space said, "I can't wait until bedtime to reward a very good boy."

Lee was about to yawn, saw the stocking tops and swooped, tiredness forgotten. He licked his wife into ecstasy and when he dropped his trousers and Claire saw the extended penis, already dripping, she clutched her throat and amid a giggle said, "Oh my."

In recent years Claire had become fairly passive when on her back but on this occasion she performed as if on fire, wishing to reward her man. She pushed back with vigor, squeezed her cunt muscles and drummed her heels on his butt until Lee blurted, 'AAAAARRRRRRGH' and filled her to overflowing.

"That was lovely darling; I came with a gusher as well," Claire panted. "Here, let me lick you clean."

Lee's eyes looked ready to pop. He was probably thinking, "Is this my Claire?"

As Claire lay in bed in Lee's arms, he being almost asleep, she said, "Dad is taking delivery of his Lear jet on Friday that will be flown in from the States where it has had a major servicing. He and mum are flying home early Saturday morning and wonder if we would like to go back with them and bring Monique as they have only met her the once. Dad will fly us back sometime on Sunday?"

"Yeah, good one."

Claire phoned Monique who accepted the invitation. Claire then called her mom and accepted and Jill said she'd organize a dinner party on Saturday night for some of Claire's old friends and some of her friends who were often talking about Monique. Claire leant over Lee to bring him up to date and wondering if he'd like some more of her but he was deeply asleep. She smiled and kissed him and looked at her new bracelet again before taking it off.

* * *

The transitional month of working the two offices allowed James and Lee to have adjoining premises converted ready for the shifting in of personnel from the glass tower, the lease for which was soon to expire anyway and would not be renewed. They also worked with business consultant Natasha on the suggestion they divide the business into two units, retail and corporate. They decided on that but with retail becoming trade and retail and corporate becoming corporate and industrial/farming to more equally divide the workload.

Lee generously allowed James, who was now working very well with Natasha, to chose which division he wanted to head. To Lee's relief James chose retail, leaving Lee with corporate and rural clients, areas that he had been working in and much preferred their attitudes to those people involved in retail. Even with the new clients coming across, few involved corporate advertising. They worked on dividing personal from both agencies into the two divisions and then each person received an email setting out details of restructuring. There were few dissenters and few people from Paterson's had resigned because the job market for advertising was fairly tight.

When approving the restructuring, Lee retained his title of managing director but add his new working title of creative director of corporate and James took the new title of deputy managing director and creative director of retail. A manager of financial services had been appointed so Claire was made director of administration and Sheila became director of company resources, with a manager of HR appointed and the existing IT manager was authorized to appoint a deputy after the resignation of Paterson's IT manager had refused the position. 

After Natasha had found a suitable attorney and tax specialist to join the expanded board, she was done and was farewelled at a dinner at a restaurant where she was presented with a bonus. Late in the evening Lee went to the men's room where to his astonishment he found James shafting Natasha. They were so grossly engrossed they didn't notice him appear and retreat with a big smile and shaking his head, delighted those two had become friendly. Er, very friendly. They would of course be engaging the services of Natasha from time to time. Much to Sheila's disgust James transferred his loyal PA to the new financial controller to make way for Paul Paterson's former PA, a busty blonde who appeared to be over-sexed and excessively occupied on filing her nails. Lee's PA resigned because she didn't want to work with an enlarged firm and he was given no choice with the successor but Claire thoroughly approved. As soon as the departing PA cleaned out her desk Polly shifted in without any reference to Lee and he saw no reason for dispute Polly's self-appointment believing what women say, size matters. Anyway, she was very competent and much of her work would involve creative.

Lee was intrigued to learn from Polly, whose rehearsal were timed for afternoons, that there had been quite a demand by women in the chorus to change to become bikie girls.

"They see such women as having empowerment," Polly said loftily. She whispered, "David's becomes quite fresh with me at times."

Lee whispered, "But he's gay."

Polly said, "He knows that and knows I know that. But I think he's wondering if he is becoming bi."

"What do you think about that?"

"Well, he can make a pitch for me I suppose. I'm not really fussed. I get more than I need at home."

"Polly, you realize that once you commence all day rehearsals prior to the opening I'll have you let you go. David will then engage you on full pay."

"Yes, but what's the problem; you'll take me back on staff won't you? "

"Well yes, but I'll have another PA well established by then."

"Take me back on boss. I'll get rid of the bitch."

Lee thought it best not to pursue that conversation. God, the woman was a menace.

* * *

Jill Cobb kissed the three of them thoroughly as she was exited. Claire knew her big kiss was because her mother had not seen her for almost two months and she kissed Lee heavily as usual because, thought Jill, although her mom was into her sixties she still thought about having a naughty hour or two with her son because of his reputation. And Monique got the big kiss because she was being entrusted to take Jill's daughter to France next week and to return her home safely.

"Mom, calm down. You are almost bursting out of your skin."

"Tonight we are staging the event of the year for our little community," she crowed. "I originally invited ten couples but word flashed around and I was forced to bring in commercial caters. We are entertaining everyone in the woolshed and having a beer and barbie night."

"Barbie – you mean the American doll...we have to dress up as dolls?"

"No Monique," Claire soothed. "You have a few mates around for a beer and prawns over a barbie, the Australian way of saying barbecue or cook-out. They serve wine and other food of course. How many people are coming mum?"

"One hundred and sixty at last count but there will be stragglers coming in unannounced."

"Oh God."

"What – what is it Claire?"

"Monique, have you any idea of you being exposed to 160 rural socially-deprived Australians with them guzzling alcohol and chomping through red meat will be like?"

"Exposed? You mean I am required to eat red meat in the nude?"

"No dear. You may wear your clothes all night but if a grinning bunch of men invite your outside just run for the protection of mom or me, do you hear?"

"Yes Claire. You are talking about forced sex aren't you?"

"No dear," said Jill. "The women are expected to co-operate."



CHAPTER 3

When they boarded the aircraft to fly out to the airport near the farm, Royce Cobb appeared and waved to everyone and then beckoned to Monique, "Come and see my etchings dear."

"He has etchings where he flies the aircraft?"

"It's the old fart's sense of humor dear," said Jill. "Get used to it. When we get airborne Claire will take over."

"Claire, she flies?"

"Yes dear. Our female ancestors were witches."

Monique, appearing highly confused went forward and sat beside the Royce. When they had gained altitude Claire arrived to takeover from her father. She had not flown for sometime so Royce stayed with her and asked her to make several maneuvers. Then satisfied he went into the main cabin to assist Jill serve refreshments.

"You father, he must be a multi-millionaire to run this very expensive aircraft."

"Yes, it is his dream toy. The farm doesn't pay for this. They both inherited wealth, principally in mining company stock, truckloads of them. Apart from this aircraft they don't flaunt their wealth and like people with real money never talk about their money or wealth, although daddy does talk about this aircraft."

After showing Monique around at the farm, Claire went off to see one of her girlfriends who'd just had a baby so suggested Lee take Monique riding. Monique was getting under Jill's feet. 

The combined farms had been divided into sheep and cattle units. Lee and Monique rode off west to see some of the black cattle. She had never seen so many cattle in her life in one place and was rather timid riding through them.

"It's no problem, "Lee grinned. "No bulls in this area to challenge us."

She remained apprehensive so they turned northwest to the river. 

"Oooh, can we swim in here?"

"No, swim in the pool back at the house."

"But this water is okay isn't it, even if it's brown."

"Monique, there are things in this water that I don't want to tell you about."

"Crocodiles?"

"No," he laughed, saying they were way up north.

"Snakes?"

He didn't answer as she said Ohmigod. Actually Lee had been thinking about water-borne parasites. Some were real nasty ones. 

They came to a fenced off area where there was a pumping station with a filtering system for water pumping off to holding tanks supply water troughs for the cattle. He backwashed the filters and recorded the backwashing had been done on a chart. They then went to a small grove of trees in the enclosure and tethered the horses.

"We need a rest," he said.

"A rest and then perhaps a bit of action yes?" Monique said slyly.

"I don't see why not."

"You are a good boy, not pressuring me. So I'm pleased to give you what you might like."

"Oh I like," he leered and she giggled, scrambling to get out of her riding clothes. Lee undressed almost as fast and as they kissed she said, "Horse riding makes my very wet, huh?"

He said, "You sexy thing" and they kissed long and intensively until she reached down and gathering some of her moisture, rubbed it over the erection pressing into her lower belly.

"This ground is sandy."

"On to your hands and knees then," Lee said and was told her was a good boy.

He plugged away leisurely and she rocked back and forth and they had a great time, Lee obliging when asked to squeeze her breasts and slowly they heated up until playtime ended with satisfactory mini explosions for each of them.

"As a lover you are almost as good as the best of Frenchmen," she said. "I cannot believe you were born an Englishman."

Gloating in pride at the accolade, Lee wiped himself on Monique's panties and handed them back to her. Well, Frenchmen were arrogant, weren't they?

Back at the house they found everyone had gone to their bedrooms to rests so went to the pool where Monique was soon pulling Lee into her without even asking was he interested in playing again. Some women just seem to know they never have to ask a guy if he's interest in going again.

"You seem bigger in me this time."

"It's because I spotted Jill peeping out at us through the curtains."

"Aaaaaaaggghhh," went Monique, biting into Lee's shoulder to smother her scream brought on when stimulated into unexpectedly early release.

"We must stop."

"No, Jill would expect her son to finish the job. She's already seen us so looking at us doing this for another minute or so will not make any difference in her learning I have committed adultery."

"And me also."

"Oh no, other woman think the woman involved is the innocent party."

"I bet," sniggered Monique, as she squeezed Lee's balls to finish him off.

Ninety minutes before dusk the first of fourteen light airplanes landed and the occupants brought food, liquor and their bedrolls because take-off would not be practical until after dawn – or until late afternoon if the pilots had to sober up. The first of road vehicles began arriving at dusk, preceded by the caterers and their helpers.

And thus another of those near-legendary big rural parties got underway with a 5-piece band playing swing, rock 'n' roll and hip-hop plus a providing the backing when Monique was urged to sing. After midnight when it was thought the upright types had all long gone, she reappeared wearing her rehearsal Can-Can outfit and with the band in great form went all the way in The Strip with Claire picking up the clothes as they were discarded, beginning with the left glove and finishing with the thong.

The crowd went wild and then standing nude behind the microphone the petite and very popular woman sang unaccompanied three French songs on English, the most obscene songs most of her audience had ever heard. The audience loved it and after she dressed, to protect her from predators, Jill and Claire plus some of Claire's friends maintained a protective ring around Monique.

* * *

Claire installed the babysitter on the morning before Lee took her and Monique to the airport for catch their flight to France. They would be away seven days. Although twice during the week the 19-year-old living-in babysitter indicated she was open to some attention from Lee – asking him to come into the bathroom and wash her back – he performed that task but as soon as she groped for him he was out of there and went the entire time without having sex, even when the babysitter's mother called him to find how Doris was getting on and then asked pointedly if they was anything she could help him with – ANYTHING. 

Sweet Sheila had said even more pointedly if he wanted a fuck while Claire was away he only had to ask. But Lee thought it was just like booze – a guy could go without it for a week without being in danger of disintegration. He had a couple of meals with Sheila and James, his neighbors on both sides of his home and with David whose partner was a top chef and neither of them looked or acted anything but like regular guys. It was the best cooking and the best company he had that entire week, Lee had to admit.

Lee was delighted when Claire arrived back and she was so excited at being in his arms again. It was the longest they had been apart since their marriage but not the longest period without sex. They'd dropped off Monique, who'd said her commitments had gone wonderfully well, and after Claire paid off the babysitter and put the highly excited Vicki to bed Lee kissed Claire and said in a halting voice he'd missed her and loved her. Claire burst into tears and said he shouldn't have said that but Claire said it was the most wonderful thing he'd ever said to her. Lee wondered about his proposal and exchanging wedding vows and the time he'd broached something she'd wanted but had kept hidden from him and he said, "Should we start a family." 

There had been other things, a really big one being 'Would you like to chuck your job and come and work for me?' But guys know women can't help but exaggerate to emote and what he'd just said about loving her had sounded really momentous, even to him. And he'd meant it. Lee ran a bath for Claire and went off to the town to collect take outs, which he served to her in bed, and then with huge restraint, he politely agreed, yes, it would be fine to wait for sex in the morning. 

Fortunately for Lee they ripped one off in the morning just before Vicki came in carrying Payton. Claire burst into tears saying, "He recognizes me!" when the 2-yearold put out his hands and cried ""Mummy." Vicki and her father were left wondering what that was about because Vicki had said in a loud voice to Payton coming along the passage, "Be a good boy because mummy is home." Lee went off to work whistling, leaving Claire to sleep off travel fatigue when she put Payton down.

* * *

The night of the final dress rehearsal came. It was held on a Friday in the theatre that was already solidly booked for five weeks. Invited to watch the show were investors, dance trust members and family members of the cast and partners and representatives of the media, along with Lee Mr Stockings Top Peach and his wife Claire. It went wonderfully well; the production just hummed along. Songs replaced much of the previous corny dialogue. A big change was the girls didn't display their stocking tops until a third of the way through the rehearsal and then the motor-cycle gang and their babes burst on stage and just as it seemed mayhem was nigh in came the mighty Polly Blackett came on stage dressed in an extremely tight women's wrestling suit and black fishnets. 

"You guys have no right to tell women who can or who cannot expose their stocking tops," she thundered. "This is Australia." 

That drew a spontaneous cheer from the audience of about 350.

The gang leader stepped forward, holding a length of heavy chain.

"Who says we can't," he snarled.

"Lady Jane Worthington, Lee Peach's maiden aunt you punk."

"Well listen Peaches. Get lost before I convert you into Lady Jane Worthington, deceased."

Without warning Lady Jane launched herself into the air and her feet hit the gang bully in the chest, knocking him down and he lay unconscious.

To the applause and cheers of the audience, Lady Jane climbed to her feet and snarled, "Okay, who's next?"

The gang leader's moll stepped forth and said, "Lady Jane, we wish to negotiate."

"No negotiation bitch. Either you join my gang – these sexy ladies behind me representing the women of Australia – or you will be seized and incarcerated in Tasmania."

The bikie (biker) gang had a brief meeting and the gang leader's moll said, "Okay, you win. We'll join young gang of do-goody ladies to preserve our right to bare our stocking tops."




Stocking Tops Pt. 07



The entire cast cheered and Monique burst on stage and the bikie gang and the chorus gathered around her and hummed as she sang, first in French and then in English, 'A Woman's Right to be Noticed' 

As the song ended the gang leader rose groggily to his feet. He called to his moll, "What's going on here? Get behind me you slut."

His moll performed the same high kick as Lady Jane had executed and yelled, "Bye bye Boris, you're out of here." 

The bikie gang then began singing, 'Bye-bye Boris You Bitch' as he rose and staggered off stage. There was a thunderous roar of a motorcycle and quickly that sound faded as the song about his tyranny continued."

Three more act followed, broken by an interval, with plenty of action and then in the fifth act came the finale, a stirring anthem called 'Viva la Stocking Tops' that initially was only strident music as 42 of the cast of 43 marched on stage, led by Lady Jane and the reformed motorcycle gang Moll Rose, everyone carrying a flag on a pole – the flags of many nations. All the flag bearers including the nine males were topless but the women wore so-called 'invisible' bras and they all wore thongs and stockings. They split in two groups and through the channel between them arrived Monique, topless and wearing a thong and stockings singing 'Viva la Stockings Tops' to a tune that had shades of 'Waltzing Matilda' to it.' The curtain dropped to huge applause and cheering.

After three curtain calls the curtain went up again with Monique, using hand signals to hush the crowd. She introduced herself and David Morgan who arrived to stand beside her.

Monique then said, "We of the cast request Mr Lee Stockings Tops Peach who is with us this evening to come on stage and be kissed by every female on stage and the guys will shake his hand unless deciding otherwise and wish him a happy birthday tomorrow, his fortieth. Mr Peach, as you all know, was the inspiration for this show that David here largely wrote and with some significant input from Lee Peach. We want you Lee."

It takes some time for forty-two people to kiss or shake hands so Monique, accompanied by David who had a fine tenor voice, sang 'Some Enchanted Evening three times before the final fall of the curtain that left Lee at the front of the stage. The audience then without prompting began singing happy birthday dear Lee. Then everyone went into the foyer for drinks. 

Claire went out next morning at 5:30, with birthday boy still asleep, and re-entered the house whooping and hollering and arrived into the bedroom with the kids who kissed daddy and wished him happy birthday.

Claire held open the page of the Sydney Morning Herald that stated: 'Stocking Tops' Opens Tonight: Expect Some Enchanted Evening. A big photo of Monique with two black crosses pasted over her nipples accompanied the preview of the show that generally was very favorable. The photo on page 3 of The Telegraph showed a close up of Lady Jane (Polly Blackett) kissing birthday boy Mr Lee Stocking Tops Peach. The heading over the story 'Our Preview Verdict: 'A Tribute to Stocking Tops' a Real Peach' Neither reports commented on individual performances, stated that was being left to their theatre critic on the opening night performance.

The Peach family went to the Krug's house for a birthday lunch for Lee and that evening before the show began David Morgan walked along the front of the stage curtain and introduced special guest Lee Stocking Tops Peach whose endeavors provided the concept behind the show. Today is Lee's fortieth birthday. The speakers then boomed out Happy Birthday with the people packing the theatre rising to sing to Lee.

Next day, Lee was honored at a huge garden party lunch in a park where almost everyone he'd had more than a passing relationship with had been invited. It was a stunning event with more than 600 people attending, giving Lee no show of conversing with everybody he knew and their partners. Professional entertainers – mostly women who wore stockings provided entertainment – with most declining to accept a fee. Those who attended would remember Lee's day out for a long time to come. 

To the delight of everyone, when asked to speak Lee gave an only lightly censored of how he became addicted to stocking tops. He concluded that after more than five years on he still could not believe that an idea developed by only five people could have achieved the amazing result that ended up as Stocking Tops Day Australia.



CHAPTER 4

On Sunday, after attending the closing night performance and party of the stocking tops show that after three and a half months was relocating in Melbourne, Lee and Claire and the children were lunching with the Krugs. After the children had gone off to play, leaving behind Payton who was asleep in Claire's lap, James said, "Well that's the end of stocking tops. Sydney can now return to being concerned with decency and emphasizing the mores that the women's place is in the home." 

"Oh poor James, you have a hangover and are bored and shitty."

Sheila said, "Good for you Claire. He stumbles into teasing when he gets like this. I think his job has become too big for him."

"I liked it when we were small are operated off the seat of our pants, " James sighed.

"Yes mate. They were great years."

Sheila and Claire said they agreed.

"Well, if you really want out James talk to me about it and I'll make enquiries about raising the cash to buy you out."

"Oh, I'm not sure that I want out," said Sheila.

"Well buy me and Claire out. That property next to her parent's farm hasn't sold."

"I didn't know you were interested in farming," Claire said in surprise.

"Well the Simpkin's place is large enough to provide us with more than an adequate income and allow us to take the kids to Europe each year during our winter here."

"Yes, and to America," Claire said.

"Well I'm not interested in being left in the business without you mate," James said and so that ended the discussion.

Next day Lee called Natasha.

"Hi – we haven't been talking for a while so things must be getting alone smoothly. We saw Stocking Tops and love it. Had a really great night. What can I do for you?"

"Know anyone who'd like to buy our business?"

Natasha almost dropped her coffee. "No, but I could sniff around. What sort of commission were you thinking?"

"None, just a straight off payment into your back pocket for a done deal. Twenty thousand bucks."

"Oh come on Mr Miser."

"Nice talking to you Natasha..."

"No wait, okay. That's actually quite generous as a finder's fee because you are in a limited market – it's either investors or another agency."

"That's what I thought. James and I believe our business is at its prime, so if we want to sell we should do it now."

"Fair enough, so he's interested?" 

"Yeah, interested. But put a fat deal on the table and everyone takes a rethink."

"Exactly. I'll make a few calls. I've been thinking about this and realize I know a right button to touch."

Natasha called Chapman Jones, the Australian chairman of J. Hoover Advertising International but his office advised Mr Jones was in New York. "Well get Betty to get him to call me urgently. Betty knows who I am – Natasha Sabu."

Four hours later Natasha received the call. "Is this really urgent Natasha? I have a woman waiting for me."

"I'm a month early but I've just heard one of the principals of Aussie Battler-Paterson advertising is bored and could want out. So I called his co-principal Lee Peach who said if a fat offer was put on the table he'd look at it."

"Okay, if I remember you wanted 2.5% of gross, is that right."

"Yes."

"Right I'll get that contract drawn up later today and get my people to do a distant appraisal of Battle-Patterson. Then will put an offer as a starting price on the table and ask for due diligence. You can earn your commission by taking any offer from us to then and opening negotiations with our attorney assigned to you. Can you do that without fouling up?"

"Of course."

"Good and goodbye."

"Try to keep it up for her Chappie. American women are fussy, particularly New Yorkers."

"Remind me to show you what hard is sometime Natalie. Now fuck off."

Natalie's eyes watered. She figured out a price that the partners and their wives would want, and put that at $8 million based on the gross turnover they must have reached by now because the last time she'd checked, new business was flowing in. At that figure, which she consider was on the high side but the approach was being made by the buyer so would probably hold, her commission for doing fuck-all would be 200k. Oh, such is the value of an introduction! Should she deal with James or Lee – although both would be in on talks, she had to decide which one she would work on. She decided on Lee because James had fucked her, taking advantage of her in a weak moment. He was not to be trusted. The rationale for that thinking might appear to resemble a sieve but it was the way she thought, and was happy about that.

Damn, if she was to become directly involved in negotiating on behalf of J Hoover Advertising, Lee would see it as unethical for her to accept commissions from both parties unless she was smart. She called Lee.

"Hi Lee, I have drawn up a short list and was about to add a name of perhaps great potential but there is a problem."

"What, they have too much money?"

"Funny man. No, it is one of my clients and there's another on the list I have done work for in the past," she said. "If they involve me in negotiations it would mean I would drawn down two commissions. How do you feel about that?"

"I'm relaxed. I am offering payment to you as a finder, whether or not you have done work for the company. Actually if you have done work for the company all the better I would suggest."

"Then I can bring in a contract for you to sign."

"Nope, why bother. If you don't trust me don't be my finder."

"That's fine Lee. Give my regards to Claire."

Eight days later Natasha called Lee. "I am ready to open negotiations on behalf of an unnamed client with just you, me and a lawyer representing the client present."

"I'd like James present."

"I wouldn't, not at this stage."

"Okay, when?"

"Midday today at the Seahorse Restaurant. I can get a private room."

"Okay, I have two appointments but my deputy can take care of them. Good work. Bye."

Natasha rubbed light perspiration off her top lip. She was puzzled why he'd immediately agreed to James been left out. Sitting on the toilet it suddenly came to her...well, at least a possible explanation. Lee was a willing seller whereas James might be a problem to shift. She hoped she was right about that.

"Our people have done a close study or your enlarged operation without coming on to your premises. We place on the table an offer to get discussion going. Four-point-five."

"Natasha, you know that's not even book value."

"I have refrained from disclosing insider information in fairness to you. It is simple the minimum we would expect to pay and it excludes goodwill."

"It is an offer made in good faith to get the ball rolling Lee," said John Stokes, a commercial lawyer. "We would like to conduct due diligence."

"No way. The company you represent could be a direct competitor of ours. Let's talk money and if it's good enough I suggest we sign conditionally, subject to due diligence verifying financial information I supply to you and that I have not kept any nasties hidden from you."

"That is an unprecedented demand."

"And that comment is bullshit John. Tell him Natasha."

"John know that; he's a negotiator," Natasha said, and she and John smiled at Lee.

"I'll tell you what," Lee said, pulling a digital memory stick from his inside pocket. Here are the financials I am prepared to release to you at this stage, up to date to the end of last month, plus our overdue accounts with a report on each amount but the company's name removed, as at the 30th of last month, plus details of our company's debts, none of which are more than sixty days overdue plus a company loan of $200,000 plus a statement on tax credits and tax due in our next payment. There is also a statement on our business activity. That's all you're getting for now. Table an offer for $8.5 million and you can commence due diligence. Now, should we eat?"

"Yes, of course. I shall report back to my principal and advise you in due course. Do not be surprised if it's an outright rejection."

"No worries," Lee smiled.

* * *

Claire had been on the phone with Jill two hours a night for three nights talking about the possibility of the sale of the business and she and Lee buying the adjoining s farm.

At first Jill went as scatty as a kitten, crying and saying the joy of Claire coming home to live was beyond belief. Then she went on about them making jam together, Jill threading sewing needles for her – Claire saying to her mom to get glasses – and going to country women's gatherings as mother and daughter like the Young's, the Bennett's and the Wrightsons' did. It was almost a little much for Claire but she knew without her parent's support the project would collapse.

"Is the property for sale?"

"Yes, and the Simpkins' are in despair. Their children don't come near them, Donald's arthritis in his back, wrists and fingers has gotten him cantankerous and Mavis needs new glasses and a hip operation. If they move into town she'll get new glasses because they have a quilt-making club there."

Claire rolled her eyes. She should be talking farm economics with her father, but patience. On the third night there was breakthrough. "I've told your father about this proposal and he called it crazy.

Claire burst into tears and her mother began crying so Royce took the phone from Jill and in typical pragmatic style said, "What's this crap I'm hearing about you two city slickers wanting to go farming. That stockings guy of yours wouldn't make a farmer's asshole."

Claire blasted heaving sobs down the phone to unsettle her father and for good measure added, "You've never loved me."

Then there was music in her ears, "Claire, baby my baby, stop this. Daddy is sorry. Look, mum and I will be down to stay with you this weekend"

Overjoyed at achieving the breakthrough, Claire cut the call to leave her guilty father squirming. They had visited them several times but her father never wanted to stay and would drag Jill off to a hotel, not that she minded. Coming to stay was the same as her father saying, "I coming to rescue you guys." This was amazing, as much as she could hope for because her mom never made a major decision without Royce's approval.

In typical thick-headedness of a male, Lee had said, "What the fuck does you father wish to become involved? We can do this ourselves."

That made Claire mad. After all his groundwork the jerk had not one word of thanks. So she hissed, "You wouldn't make a farmer's asshole without assistance" and that launched them into a row.

But the arrival of her parents was like at burst of the tropics - palms waving, parrots providing a riot of color in the lush vegetation, monkeys singing in a chorus and drums beating out dance music as waves tickled the shore. Her father handed Lee a big pack of Lee's favorite cut of steaks for the barbie and a bottle of single malt whisky and two tickets to the big game on Saturday night while her mom handed across chocolates and a big bouquet of flowers and there were presents for the kids who were hugging her. Claire wanted to cry but knew that would make the men nervous. Damn men.

Then oh glory! When her mom kissed Lee and pressed into him as usual she also patted his back and cooed, "Oh my farming boy" AND her father just stood watching and beamed.

Over drinks, the huge problems facing a rookie beef farmer as expressed by her sheep farmer father, with her mom chipping in with her penny's worth, had Claire thinking they would be better off trying fish farming by throwing bread into the sea until the blighters were large enough to be worth netting. But her wonderful man weathered the assault and said, "I'd be hoping to retain the Simpkins' foreman and other personnel Royce and you're just over the fence to call if I hit a snag – you'd be there for me, wouldn't you?"

For the first time Claire could remember, she saw her father puff up like a toad. "Oh yeah, I could throw a bit of advice your way."

The lying toad, he was almost falling out of his boots in pride at being asked as the expert, the guru...considered by the advertising and stockings guru as his equal plus a little bit more. Jill looked at her husband in astonishment, seeing a new side to him after all these years. He's been a bit like that with the birth of Vicky, but this was on a far larger scale. Royce then told them that part of the problem the farm not selling was the price of $12.7 million was considered too high and as part of the deal the crusty foreman Ben Stiles and his with Judith stayed on in the manager's house as part of the deal."

"Almost $13 mil is a big price," Lee said uneasily.

"Nine million would be about right." Jill said, and Royce nodded, adding, "And that's lock, stock and barrel including Ben and Judith who are in their mid fifties and the farm is currently under-stocked with just over 5000 head of adult cattle. It's a big property with good water supplies and the best hayfields in the district. I would have thought a syndicate of farmers would have purchased it after the sale stalled but that hasn't happened. Fear of drought makes farmers conservative."

Claire called Lee into the kitchen and hugged him. "Dad has just told us he would have purchased the property except he doesn't want to load extra pressure on himself should this current pattern of droughts continues or gets worse."

"I didn't hear him say that."

"Believe me darling, I know how to read my father. He also would like me home to fly with him because he knows his sight is weakening and his reaction and confidence are slowly eroding."

"He told you that?"

"It's called reading between the lines darling. Be lovely to mom and if we sell the business we'll have a farm; I can practically promise you that."

Be lovely to mom? What the hell did Claire mean be that? He liked Jill and was always nice to her. Fuck, reading between the lines did that mean lick mom's stockings darling? Jill was approaching dinosaur age; she'd by sixty in a couple of years.

The family took Jill and Royce to the airport on Sunday morning and watched them fly off after a very pleasant weekend. Lee had really liked being at the football with Royce the previous night because he was so knowledgeable about the game and some old cobbers had invited them into their box where top wines and food were served. Royce and his mates attacked the whisky and it took Lee all his strength to get Royce into the car to drive him hope. Jill had waited up, knowing what to expect and put they got him to bed. 

On Monday Natasha called a lunch meeting with Lee and her lawyer friend said curtly, "Our counter offer is six-point-eight million. Take it or leave it."

Lee kissed Natasha and nodding to John and although they lunch orders had still to arrive said, "Bye guys, I shouldn't waste any more of you time."

"Lee," Natasha cried but he just smacked his lips at his in a kiss.

"Let him go," John said. "He thinks he's the big tough negotiator."

"Up yours John," Lee smiled, giving him the fingers. "The boss won't be pleased with you going back to him without have made any progress."

Two weeks later the buyer had been identified, an amended conditional offer for $8 million had been signed and due diligence had taken place and the offer had gone unconditional. The final deal was signed in front of lawyers on mid afternoon Thursday and with a big grin John the legal negotiator said, "That clause that you guys must vacate the premises by 3:00 tomorrow and hand me your keys was drafted by me and left in."




Stocking Tops Pt. 07



Lee tossed a bag of keys and security alarm information to John and said, "Here you are buddy, from this moment you are in charge of the company until the deal takes effect from noon tomorrow. In the meantime I'm leaving you in charge on trust and I have these people as witnesses that I find it necessary to make this arrangement. You see we four partners moved out last night and tonight we are throwing a huge thank you dinner for our entire staff and their partners. Be kind to those people tomorrow as they will have hangovers and don't make any rash decisions to fuck up your boss's new acquisition. Chapman Jones takes pride in his business reputation so will want your butt if you goof up."

"This is highly improper Lee and your are not legally entitled to..."

"Hand on responsibility? I'd like to see you created a legal claim against my action and me involved Chapman Jones. You'd never work in Sydney again John. I'm teaching you how the real business world works as a lesson because I found your arrogance in trying to negotiate with me unacceptable. I hope your superiors here take note."

At midday on Friday, Claire flew her family out of Sydney on a rented airplane to allow Lee to see a guy about a farm. They landed on her father's farm and taxied up to the house fence. Jill took the sleeping two-year-old and Vicki followed asking, "Show me the changes you have made to the house since my last visit grandma."

Lee and Claire drove off with Royce who said, "I told Donald and Mavis I'm bringing a couple of buyers to see them, family, and they'd better think bottom dollar. Mavis said she'd put on a lunch in the orchard to impress the buyers. Jill and I have talked about this and are thinking about tossing a few million in to make-up any shortfall, either as a loan or to buy a share of the property."

"Thanks mate. You and Jill are okay."

"Oh daddy, that is wonderful. This really is a big surprise to me. It is because you want your first born back with you?"

The vehicle clipped the gatepost.

"Christ girl, look what you made me do. I'd be better off with you living in Sydney. On the other hand...." He looked in the rear vision mirror and grinned at her. You're a heartland Aussie girl Claire – the city is no place for you and my grandchildren."

They drove along in quiet reflection.

"God you've matured well."

"Thank you Mr Simpkin. Or now being mother of a 2-year-old and a 7-year-old, should I not be calling you Donald?"

"What you want to buy my farm and already you are telling me what to do?"

"That comment of mine was presented as a question."

"God, I need my lawyer around to talk to you. Call me anything you like but don't call me late for breakfast."

"This is my husband Lee, father of our children."

"Well, I haven't seen the kids but it looks like you got your choice of sire right. Good afternoon Lee. What kind of name is that?"

"Shorter than Donald I would think."

Donald grinned and shook hands. "Hi mate," he said.

"Lee, this is my woman Mavis."

"Good afternoon Mrs Simpkin. You must put a lot of work in to have your flower gardens looking such a treat."

"Thank you young man. Lovely to see you looking so well Claire. Two children I heard as well as being a working mother."

"You heard right Mrs Simpkin."

"Place call me Mavis, you are now a grown woman Claire. Does Lee like your flashing your stocking tops? Oh don't look surprised. We watch a lot of TV and I hear the women talking after the parties Jill has held for this young man."

"Yes he adores me in stockings. Have you ever had your stocking tops licked Mavis?"

Mavis led the way in for lunch cackling.

After a long lunch Donald said, "So you want to buy my farm girl? You know this is a dodge; you are just a front to try to knock me down in price so your father lands up with my land cheaply."

Donald, don't call me girl and don't imply I'm dishonest or I'll shove a hayfork up your ass."

Lee was disgusted until he saw Mavis and Royce hand over their mouths almost bursting out of their skins in laughter.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that – show respect. I'm older than your father."

"Donald, if you continue talking crap like that I will refuse to speak to you and will confine my negotiations to Mavis. I recall when a young teenager and you and Mavis moved on to this land mum saying the purchased was made possible through Mavis's inheritance."

"Who told you that?'

"My mother Jill, sixteen years ago, and I've never heard that repeated since."

"Well how much do you want to pay and why isn't you husband talking?"

"He would have but you opened negotiations by addressing me, remember?"

"Oh, so I did. Answer the question."

"Four million dollars."

"That's an insult."

"No more than your advertised asking price of $12.7 is an offence to any right-thinking person who knows land values and stock carrying capacity rates in this district. Through your stupid price you have scared potential buyers away. That, the affects of drought, the obvious downtrodden look of your farm and word in town is not that grass growth is back you are under stocked. Lee and I want a lock, stock and barrel deal. You and Mavis move out with just your household and personal things and we takeover your manager and honor the contracts you have with casual labor and suppliers and service providers. So we pay the money and you two just walk way and follow the truckload of your household effects."

"Mavis placed her hand on Donald's arm "That's the basis of a perfect deal for us Donald. Dismount from your high horse."

"Ten million."

"Our offer is six million but first we required records of stock numbers, hayfield yields, plus complete farm accounts and up to date farm debt, and we want that by 6 o'clock tonight because..."

"You can have it all now; our accountant delivered it to me Thursday. Call him with any queries because he's keen to get the business back if you do buy. Mavis and I will come over mid morning for coffee and try to reach a deal by noon because you and Lee will want to fly back to Sydney before airspace becomes crowded. If we do a deal and you intend selling your house you better invite us to inspect it because I don't want agents loading up a house sale deal with their fees."

"Very well, our asking price without an agent involved would be $3.2 million. We have two certified appraisals of value."

"Christ, you could buy a good small farm for that."

"I suggest you find out what houses in our area are and without our view are selling for."

"What, you see the harbor?"

"Yes. We look across Shark Island to Bradley's Head and Robertson's Point but are cut off from the view of Sydney Harbor Bridge. You might do better yourselves."

"Royce?"

"It's a bonza location. You see every ship that comes into the harbor or departs. The house is airy with great ventilation, there is a pool and a big American-style kitchen."

Mavis looked as if she wanted to say something to Claire, but didn't.

Five weeks later Claire and Lee owned a cattle breeding farm and the Simpkins had paid them $2 million for their home in Sydney. With the net amount received from their share of the sale of their advertising business, Claire and Lee needed $750,000 to complete the farm purchase and meet sundry costs so Jill and Claire each gave $500,000 as they explained their would need working capital to run the farm and money to meet immediate outgoings.

The words, "Be kind to my mother," rang in Lee's ears but he didn't really fancy licking Jill's stocking tops and she probably wouldn't want him going beyond her knees anyway. So he called his mother to make arrangement for Jill and Royce to visit England in September for three weeks. Ten days later Jill received a parcel from England, as did Royce.

It was for all all-expenses travel and accommodation trip paid for by Claire and Lee. Lee's mum Victoria had arranged a tour of six of England's finest gardens, visits to three stately homes and a week's tuition at a cordon bleu cooking school, with Victoria accompanying her.

Royce's beautifully bound itinerary for similar duration included visits to cattle studs in England, France and Belgium accompanied by Victoria's younger brother who was gaining in reputation as an international judge at cattle shows. Victoria planned to organize other excursions after the Cobbs' arrival in England. 

Jill was ecstatic and called Claire to thank her for such a wonderful vacation. "Well I was consulted but you best speak to your son. He says you have been particularly nice to him so it was about time he reciprocated. He owes daddy hospitality as well. Isn't he a nice boy?"

Lee and Claire spent their last night in their home alone. The children were grandma's house where the Peach family would live until extensive renovations to their farmhouse and the construction of an in-ground swimming pool were completed. They had just returned from having an intimate dinner to mark Claire's 32nd birthday but which would be celebrated with a party at her parent's place on Saturday, two days late. Claire was pleased Lee had bothered to celebrate it on the right night, having to book the restaurant, order flowers and buy his wife's present all by himself because he no longer had a PA because for the past six weeks he and Claire had both relaxed as unemployed people, tying up pieces and preparing for the next big thing.

They arrived home. Claire was acting rather cute but not drunk because she'd only had a Martini and three glasses of champagne spread over four hours and not being without nibbles. Later she'd devoured a New York steak at the New York Restaurant in Downtown Sydney.

"The present of those sensational Italian shoes and color matching pashmina. A wonderful and innovative gift set my darling, but could I request a special edition of licking attention to mark my birthday?"

"Yes of course."

Claire stood by the wide leather sofa with very strong back that was due to be trucked away tomorrow with the last of their possessions.

She unzipped her black dress and allowed it to fall to the floor. Sinking on to the sofa, leaving her 5-inch heels on, she said, "I am wearing two things I purchased in Paris for a special night and this is a special night, the start of a new way of life for us. I'm wearing silk panties and silk stockings. I'd like your to give me the ultimate licking, better than you've every given me prior to tonight and better than any of those countless sluts and my friends and those countless sluts you have buried your sucking mouth and darting tongue into."

"My pleasure my Queen, said Mr Peach, who deserved and earldom for his expertise in stocking tops licking. He stripped and holding his dick in his hand he approached his wife and grasping her panties tore them off her body.

She gasped, but made no complaint and watched fascinated as Lee wrapped what was left of the silk garment around his dick. She counted – one, two, three tugs of the silk over his ready-for-action cock and it began dripping. Ohmigod, she thought. That was quick and formed her lips into a big 'O'.

Claire watched wide-eyed as Lee ran his erection up her black stocking, leaving a snail-like trail in its wake. Much of her tongue fell out of her mouth, programmed obviously to follow that trail and clean it up. All women have this desire but wrongly executed parenting about sexual desires and practices when they are young buries the desire and knowledge of such sexual housekeeping and rarely is such a seriously deprived woman given a second chance to experience the unlocking of one of nature's precious gifts. Miraculously Claire had just experienced such a moment and quite likely according to the predestined order of things in the natural development of humans over centuries, this would help her become the ultimate fully adjusted woman. But her great 'hope' right now was being full of cock before the evening expired.

Lee rolled Claire on to her back and stood over the couch. Claire watched through narrowing eyes as she panted the exquisite delight etched on his face, his head pulled right back, mouth open, and then as she looked down she saw the thick mass of his almost bluefish-pink translucent cock pushing back and forth behind her pulled-up and raised knee – the feeling of silk giving Lee the joy of silk. She saw the heavy head of his cock on the other side of her knee plunging forth and disappearing with each of his lazy strokes; it was still dripping. Craftily, wanting to do more than just look, Claire squeezed her leg tighter towards her butt. Lee grunted and they both watched wide-eyed as a load of his semen landed on her other stocking, a bit oozing down the slope but still remaining intact with the body of the big dollop. It looked not unlike a jellyfish.

"I want to lick with passion."

Startled, Lee saw her focus and stepped back to allow Claire to curl her body around so she could guzzle at her leg.

"Ohmigod am I sexed up," she groaned, flopping back on the sofa, semen dripping off her chin. 

"Lee darling, please give me some cunt thrusts with your tongue until I ease the pressure and then go back to licking my stopping tops. All girls in their late teens, alone in their bedroom, dream their ultimate sex dream. Their chosen dream never leaves them. I was not one to dream of being ravished by a busload of sweaty male footballers. My dream was about fabulous silk underwear. The cock in my dream was the size of my forefinger, not the Prince of Cocks that hangs from you – well, it's not hanging tonight, is it?"

In their last night in the city, they went at it for hours. The silk stockings and silk panties were ruined of course in the succession of melees, but Claire washed the remnants next morning to store in the back of a drawer at the farmhouse. She knew in years to come she'd pull them out and holding them against her cheeks would remember that night of glorious rounds of fucking and the masterly way her husband rested between bouts and then wound them up again by licking her silk stocking tops.



THE END

(A two-part sequel, 'Miss Peach's Stocking Tops' is due shortly) EG.



Stocking Tops



They turned into Mendelssohn Avenue and as she directed Lee to turn into the driveway three houses along Marlene saw Christine's daughter Chrome, a first-year student at the nearby college, washing her car. Christine, said to have a notch on her dresser for almost half the men in the avenue, had complained to Marlene over coffee only yesterday she was worried that Chrome might be gay because she only had girlfriends. Well, an unexpected reaction was coming from Chrome, who'd dropped the hose at her feet and was gawking at Marlene's driver and giving the impression she was about to pee. 

Marlene waved and called "Hi Chrome" but was ignored. Either that or Chrome was transfixed and in a trance. 

Marlene opened her side of the four-vehicle garage and Lee drove in beside the T-bird and she felt enormous relief as the door thumped down behind them. Her mission was now to protect her innocent nephew from female predators. 

"You drive beautifully darling. By the end of the week after we've driven around quite a bit I'll hand this vehicle over to you."

"Oh that's great. How can I reward you?"

"Oh, I'll think of something. You run along and look through the house and then come back for your bags."

Off he went, much to her relief. Marlene was quite sure she was sitting on a wet spot that would show through her gray silk short skirt. She followed him inside and timed her run for her bedroom without being spotted. She locked the door and closed the drapes but then kicked her toy box back under the bed. Being young and male, he'd be in need of food. Perfuming herself after dropping her skirt into the laundry bag she pulled on a pair of navy shorts and went out to find Lee.

In the kitchen as she prepared lunch, Marlene smiled as she heard him splashing in the pool. He'd be in his briefs or even totally nude. He'd be used to males at school seeing him in the nude and probably his mom too. Working quickly she prepared a tray of salads and a beer for him and half a bottle of wine for her. She undid the two front buttons of her top and went out with the tray smiling, ready to see what Vicky would used to seeing and wondered whether Vicky had ever been tempted to do more than just look.

"Let's see what you've got, my sexy protégé," she said softly, only to have her breaking smile fall from her face. "Oh Marlene, what are you doing!" She turned back and put the tray on the bench. Here she was, a well-educated woman and mother of two girls about to enter their teenage years, as yet undecided whether or not she would seduce Lee. What kind of role model was that? Okay, she'd had a handful of romps with other men during her married life and Clan was a relentless adulterer and no doubt one of those notches reputedly carved on Christine Miller's dresser represented his visit or at least his first visit to her neighbor's bedroom. 

She felt so ashamed, on the brink of perhaps giving Lee one of the big experiences of his life – only he'd probably remember it as his first real introduction into sex with a female who was a whore, his Aunt Marlene. Who was seeking the sex? She was as clearly he was only expecting it to crop up somewhere along the way during the next few weeks. Her duty was to be his guardian on behalf of her sister who was worried about him becoming a little kinky about sex. She strode firmly to Clan's room - she never slept with him until a month after she'd last smelt the scent of another woman on him – and dragged a pair of his swimming shorts from a drawer.

Returning to the doorway from the kitchen to the pool area she called out, "Lee!"

"Yeah? I'm having a rest at the end of the pool right by you. It's a great pool."

"Thank you Lee. I'm throwing a pair of Clan's shorts into the pool. Call out when you are decent and I'll emerge with our lunch."

"Oh great, food."

She threw out the shorts.

"Okay, I'm decent. Sorry I could have embarrassed you."

Oh what a lovely boy, she smiled, picking up the tray.

Over lunch Marlene swung the conversation around to sex. "Lee, I'm telling you these things so you don't becoming uncomfortable living with us. Clan and I currently are sleeping in separate rooms. He likes chasing other women and if I think he's been active I don't sleep in bed with him for up to a month."

"Why, is case of STDs?"

"You know about them?"

"Yes."

"Well a bit of that but also to show my resentment and his lack of respect for me."

"Fair enough."

"Um, you may occasionally answer the phone and may hear breathing and then the call will be cut. In all probability that will be a guy I occasionally date."

"Date?"

"Yes and I admit we will have sex."

She watched him put cream on his piece of apple pie to follow his salad, wondering what he was thinking about her.

"That's cool. It's not my business and you are entitled to run your life as you see fit. I think you are one of the greatest women I've ever met. I reckon I could get off just by looking at you."

Clasping a hand above her breasts almost in shock, Marlene said, "Thank you Lee. A lovely feeling is sweeping through me to be told what the mother of 12-year-old twins wants to hear. You are so perfect for me, er, as a companion. I'll now tell you something. If you ever feel homesick just tell me and I'll come to you at night wearing stockings – but that's all, my conscience and my respect for you will never allow me to have full-on sex with you."

"But you'll show my your tits?"

Marlene smiled. He was sitting next to her so she ruffled his hair. "Yes, I'll show you my tits, soon."

"You are so cool, Marlene."



Chapter 2

After lunch with Marlene, at her suggestion after his second yawn, Lee went to the guestroom where he found she'd already turned the bed down. He stripped to his briefs, folded his clothes neatly on the chair, and slipped between the sheets. He was halfway through his first exciting day in Los Angeles.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

His aunt Marlene came in, rosy cheeks showing. "Are you comfortable?"

The 18-year-old grunted and looked at her invitingly. Probably it was a pathetic look but it worked. She came over and gave him a beautiful soft kiss, full on the lips. He sighed and watched her rather compact tail disappear around the door and wondered if other eighteen-year-olds had the desire to have sex with their cute auntie? He still couldn't quite get his mind around the size of her boobs – way, way bigger than his mother's. The breasts of Matron Shanks in charge of Lancelot House at school were probably similar in size but matron's hung almost to her belly.

He licked his lips and fell asleep.

Lee was awoken just before 3:45 by giggling. He opened one eye and stretched the arm he was not curled over and the giggling volume increased. Lee focused and found six young girls including a dark-eyed beauty he assumed was perhaps Mexican, looking at him wide-eyed, as if with an air of expectancy. Five were blonde or very light brown. Only then did he spot Marlene at the door and when he made contract she said, "The twins arrived home with friends who wanted to see you."

"You mean meet me?"

"No, see you. All are shy."

"Boo!"

The girl's shrieked and back in hard against the wall, except the bravest one who was almost bone blonde like her mother.

"Say hello Lee."

"Welcome to our home Lee."

"Thank you Katie." At the airport Marlene had said her daughters were named Katie and Nellie. He'd called the braver girl Katie, knowing he had a 50% chance of being correct. The flicker of his eyes told him he was correct.

She asked him to say something and her mother said the girls wanted to hear his accent because they had two boys from Britain in their class who 'talked funny'. He turned it on.

"I say you girls, it's a chipper of a day, eh what? Los Angeles seems to be filled with pretty blonde women with lovely bodies and you represent perfect replicas, as the three of you who are a little chubby will lose that puppy fat as you begin to eat better and become more active to burn fat. Cor, you look good enough to eat – yum, yummy."

Two of the girls squealed, one moving to stand against Marlene. One of the blondes stepped forward to stand alongside her sister: "Tell him Katie."

"Lee, do people swim where you come from?"

"Yes, although we have a short summer every community has covered heated pools available for use by anyone for at least a good part of the year."

"Can you swim?"

"Yes."

"Will you teach us to do better in the pool?"

"I'll try."

"Come on gang, let's get ready."

The girls pushed out of the room excitedly.

Marlene asked could he swim and said yes and helped to coach younger boys at his school. 

"You'll be hard-pushed to advance Nellie and Clarita," she smiled.

The squealing girls in the pool scarcely noticed Lee arrive in baggy shorts and while Marlene pulled up a chair to supervise, he lined everyone up for a race for two lengths and watched them before going to work on them. They all had fun and after the girls had gone off to change Marlene stepped out of her shorts and top and was contained at the top in her black one-piece swim suit, but only just.

"I was a good swimmer at college and swam interstate," she said. "But breast enhancement rather gets in the way."

"Extra buoyancy," Lee grinned and giggling Marlene taught him the way Americans pronounced that word.

One of the twins yelled, "Mommy is going to race Lee" and the others piled out to watch. Marlene did swim well and Lee timed his finish so they touched together. The girls screamed in delight and Lee blushed when Marlene whispered to him, "You are such a lovely young man." 

The visitors left and the twins went off to do school homework, so Marlene and Lee were alone again. She looked at him closely, sweeping her hair back. "Would you like me to ask the university student you saw across the street over for a drink?"

"What student?"

"She was washing her car and gaped at you."

"I saw no one. I was making sure I didn't knock over the brickwork as I turned into your driveway."

"She wears stockings."

Lee's head flicked around to look at Marlene and saw her big smile.

"You tease, I ought to put you over my knee and whack your arse."

"We say ass, but no Lee, not while the girls or Clan are around."

"I was only joking."

"Okay, but please remember that about body contact. A good night, good morning or good bye kiss is okay."

"Gotcha. Perhaps we should skip that shower together?"

Marlene chose to ignore that. "Clan is on his way home early. He just called and is excited you have arrived. Usually he doesn't leave the office until 7:00 or 7:30, so the girls will eat with us this evening."

"That's good, hosted by the entire family. I welcome that."

Marlene smiled and stroked his arm until pulling away hastily; remembering she'd resolved not to touch him.

Clan, who was an attorney, arrived all smiles. He was almost as tall as Lee and slapped Lee so hard on the back he almost winded the visitor.

"Buddy, you are in great shape," he said, looking at Lee who was still in his swim shorts. "Let's do some lengths."

Clan kissed Marlene, who had changed into a top and short skirt. He did not bother to conceal from Lee he'd gripped a cheek of his wife's butt. The kiss appeared more than cursory and Marlene made no effort to remove Clan's hand.

The twins came out with Clan and stood screaming encouragement for their father as the four-length race was underway. Clan won by two lengths and the girls screamed with delight and hugged their victorious daddy while Lee dried off and watched Marlene walk off to the kitchen. She turned just inside the door, concealed from her family, and blew him a kiss as if acknowledging once again he'd diplomatically thrown a race.

Over dinner, a very relaxed affair, Lee became aware that the huge and intimate contact he'd had with Marlene earlier in the day had gone, and she was now the pivotal force within the family. They all spent time engaging him in conversation, but the magic had gone, and common with all newcomers, he felt a little left out as was to be expected. He also had the feeling Marlene had pulled back from him. Well, he thought grumpily, treat her like an aunt and his problem would be over.

After dinner Clan went to his study and Marlene was off to review the twin's homework, so she suggested Lee go for a walk and check out the neighborhood. She gave him her phone to call the home phone in case he became lost. Off he went grumpily, but that didn't last.

Lee reached the sidewalk and saw a female about his age come down the driveway of the house opposite, dressed in a well filled out top that so short it left her belly bared, cute little shorts and white stockings with tiny red ribbons that stopped short of her knees. They did nothing for him but her grin did.

"Hi," she called. "Are you staying with Mrs Morgan?"

"Yes, she's my aunt."

"Oh, and you're English. I knew one of her sisters lives in England at Bath is it?"

"Yes, Bath it is."

"I'm bored so are going on a walk. Want to join me?"

"Yes, what a lovely invitation."

Chrome looked at him suspiciously as he loped across the street. "What did that mean?"

"What do you mean?"

She still wasn't smiling a greeting. "You said what a lovely invitation."

"I'm new in your city and don't know a soul apart from the Morgan's. You neighborly gesture to walk with you was appreciated, that's all. I beg your pardon if that offended you."

She smiled and introduced herself as Chrome and waited in vain for the inevitable reaction. "Don't you think I have a funny name?"

"Not really. I'm Lee and that's unusual in England. My mum, er, mom is American and was born in the south."

"I know and already know you are well mannered, not like some of the guys I associate with."

"Peripherally?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"The tone in your voice suggested that."

Chrome smiled and said he was a strange one but Lee let that one go.

He broke the silence. "I've just finished school so was sent over by my mom to see if Los Angeles living would sharpen me up."

Chrome said well if he wanted a freewheeling lifestyle he'd find it here and all the food, entertainment and sex he could handle. "It's a little early for school for finish, even if you were in your final year."

"Um, I finished a week early. Expelled."

Chrome stopped and asked excitedly whatever for but was told she wouldn't want to know. "But I do."

Lee's head dropped. "I was at a boys' boarding school and was found in the bed of another senior boy wearing stockings."

Chrome bit he lip but her upper body shook with the suppressed laughter. "Ohmigod and you were the girlfriend?"

Lee looked horrified. "We weren't having sex. Oh God, not with a guy, I'm not like that."

"Then why were you two in bed together," she asked, still struggling to control her mirth.

"We both have this fascination for stocking tops – the patterned or lacy kind, and of course the silky feel of stockings."

Chrome looped her arm around his and hauled him along to continue their walk. "Let this be our secret, I'll won't tell mom, as she'll start pestering you. You are such a fascinating guy – I'm aware a few men have a stocking fetish but you are first guy I've had to admit it."

"I see nothing wrong with it. Some guys like photography or playing computer games. I like stockings."

"Of course there's nothing wrong with it, um, unless you wear them regularly. Do you see your mom in stockings."

"Oh rather."

"Ohmigod," Chrome practically panted, pulling in Lee's arm hard against her. "I'm a little off guys because they're so rough and their conversations are too often self-centered. Do you travel with stockings?"

"Oh no and I've only ever worn them in the dorm at school on special occasions when the thought of deprivation became almost unbearable."

Chrome said she could understand that and obviously being in virtual lock-up at a same-sex boarding school he could go home for a quick visit to mommy.

Lee looked and with surprise read her concern. "You don't think I'm sick?"

"Oh no, you are so interesting with a cute little touch of naughtiness."

"Do you ever wear proper stockings?" Lee, having detected her sympathy for him decided to take the risk and with satisfaction felt her shake slightly against him.

"Yes I do Lee, and I can tell you I get a special feeling when I begin to pull them on, leg raised in the air. Do you jack-off to that image?"

Flushing, Lee nodded.

"God, I didn't think you'd have the courage to admit that. With a stocking wrapped around it?

Still flushing, he shook his head.

"Then what is it about you and stockings?"

"I love watching them being pulled on and then being invited to feel them and lick the tops."

Chrome almost lost her footing. Breathing heavily she said, "Oh God Lee. Never have I met anyone like you."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't take it like that. I mean, I find you amazing, attractively so. I'm prepared to wear stockings for you."

Lee didn't answer and that wasn't necessary as Chrome was almost gasping at her arm being jammed in against the side of his chest.

"May I date you Lee?"

Turning to Chrome he smiled and nodded, and choked, "I'd rather like that. You are so endearingly sweet."

Moaning, Chrome spun around in front of him and held up her face to be kissed.

They turned back, not having walked very far and reaching Chrome's gateway Lee could hear someone in the pool so asked Chrome is she'd like to come across and join him for a swim.

"Yes, I'd love that," she said happily. "But first come in and meet the folk – dad will be half asleep but mom will give you a head to toe inspection.

"Hi guys, I've brought Mrs Morgan's nephew to meet you."

"That didn't take you long to latch on to him," he mother called.

When they entered the room, Chrome's mother Christine took one look at Lee, clutched her stomach and said, "Oh my."

"This is my mother Christine Edwards and my father Glen Edwards."

"Good evening Mrs Edwards," Lee said half bowing. "It is a pleasure to meet you and please excuse my English accent. May I say what a splendidly colorful and neat front garden you have. It's picture perfect."

Christine gaped and Chrome ran off to change.

"Good evening sir," Lee said to Glen. "I trust you had a productive day at work to underpin the luxurious lifestyle of you and your family."

"You're right on the button there pal. Another profitable grind at the office but fortunately I own the business so it's really a breeze except for personnel problems including cat-fights, people arriving late or going early, managers being abused – but you wouldn't know about that."

"I would have thought you have an experienced HR manager to attend to staffing matters, leaving you to attend to top management matters and dealing with accountability."

"Thank you Lee, I keep telling him that but he won't listen. The operation is large enough to fund an HR person and assistant."

Glen looked sharply at Lee. "Are you at college?"

"No, I'm eighteen and begin university in a couple of months. But one of my study options was business management. I'm only starting to pick it up after three years but have had no practical experience."

"So you're not trying to tell me how to run my business?"

"Oh no sir. As I said, I'm only a junior theorist right now."

"But you know about the role of a HR manager?"

"Oh yes, with business being constantly layered with new regulations, the impost of new reporting requirements to government agencies and far stricter compliance requirements bosses are being pushed out of hands-on management into full-on governance."

"I've been teetering."

"Seek external advice sir. I'm sure the recommendations are likely to suggest you take the plunge without further delay."




Stocking Tops



Chrome appeared, terminating that conversation. She wore a bikini top that managed to contain most of her breasts and the bottom was virtually a thong. 

Her father coughed and said, "Darling don't you think..."

"She'll wear a towel around her crossing the street darling," said Christine. "She's just anxious to show Lee what she's got."

"Mom!"

"Have a great time darling," Christine replied, unmoved. "We hope to see more of you Lee very soon."

"Thank you. Bye Mr and Mrs Edwards."

Chrome took Lee's hand and led him out. They heard Glen say, "I thought you said she didn't like guys?" and Christine replied, "Until now she didn't. I guess she's found this one is different."

They arrived at the pool just as Clan was about to enter. He stood on the top step staring at Chrome while Marlene, in the pool, called out hi and said it was great they had met.

"He's so charming, Mrs Morgan, so different."

"Don't I know it darling. How's Christine?"

"How can guys be different," Clan said as he dove into the pool.

As Clan swam to his wife and made her squeal, Chrome whispered to Lee, "Mrs Morgan wears stockings and so does everyone in her lively bunch of friends. When they come here for a party in their low tops and high hems you'll ejaculate in your pants."

"Huh?" Lee gasped but too late to respond. Chrome was already airborne in a jump into the pool.

* * *

Clan went to bed first. He started at his office at 7:00. Lee went to follow soon after.

"I'm glad you and Chrome have made contact. She's a sweet kid."

"Yeah, thanks. She has appeal."

Marlene said tomorrow she'd take Lee up to their beach house and stay the night. It was Clan's suggestion and he'd called his mom to come over at 3:30 to be there when the girls arrived home and to stay the night.

"It's all arranged. Clan said if I required an adult for company then invite Catherine as Carl was in San Diego for a couple of weeks. So that's arranged. You'll like Catherine who is a former model but she is not as haughty as she appears. We'll leave at 8:30 and drop the kids off and then pick up Catherine."

* * *

Lee found Catherine not at all haughty. As he was the driver he stepped out to greet her and she stepped straight up and kissed him lightly on the lips. 

"I was told you were a hunk. With a bit of touching up and proper grooming you could find a slot as a male model."

"Thank you. I was told you were lean and beautiful. You're gorgeous."

Catherine pulled her sunglasses back down and she gave him a great smile. Obviously he'd not overdone it so he appealed to her.

During the drive to Malibu Lee mostly listened but the two women did point out landmarks of interest. The house, behind a beachfront property, was not one of the spectacular ones. Marlene said it belonged to Clan's parents who hadn't been near it in years but kept it for the family. "It doesn't look much but has a mind-boggling price-tag," she said.

Lee made two phone calls and then announced, "We have a shared pool and shared tennis court at our disposal. They had a snack and a glass of white wine, which Lee rather liked as it, was light in color and taste. They played tennis – he against the two women and they made the rules, allowing them to hit back within the doubles lines so he was almost run off his feet.

He asked could he take off his shirt and looking around Marlene said yes as she thought the owners had gone out. When he took off his shirt and straighten, he heard Catherine say in a low voice 'Ohmigod' and Marlene said, "See, I told you."

But that wasn't all Marlene told Catherine because just before they left for dinner at 9:00, the three of them quite nicely away on wine, the women emerged dressed in their best and gave Lee a twirl, both holding their fronts up high enough to display their stocking tops. They set off in a cab, the women insisting he sit between them and before the night's end he was encourage enough by their rather loose behavior to think he made be heading for a great night but a threesome did not eventuate. Both women went off to bed, leaving him watching a film on TV.

However, during the night one of them climbed into bed beside him and an exploratory hand on to the chest confirmed his visitor was Catherine. They kissed and he played with her small tits but whenever his hand wandered Catherine pulled it back to one of her boobs. Eventually she whispered, "I don't do adultery' but that apparently paralleled the narrower version of sexual relations as argued by a former American President, as Catherine flipped on to his chest and kissed and nipped her way down his front until she stopped to take him into his mouth after a few tentative licks to lubricate it and no doubt to raise his level of expectation.

Oh boy, was she good, he thought, accepting he was in the hands and mouth of a professional-grade proponent, as least compared with the few naughty wenches he's had in the past of mostly sexual misadventure. Lee gradually heated up and began throwing his head and shoulders from side to side when she squeezed his nuts hard and he blew, again and again, thinking she'd pull away. But she didn't. Catherine eventually stood up and although it was dark he thought it sounded as she was wiping her mouth on the sheet.

"Goodnight beautiful," she whispered.

He grunted and felt down his groin but he was practically dry, just a damp layer of sweat and he boggled, knowing she'd swallowed heavily. He'd heard some women did that but until tonight all of his girls had been spitters or pulled away at his first groan. 

Close to dawn he crept into Marlene's room and she switched on her bed light, hearing him approach.

"Hi," she whispered. "Jump in. Did you have your experience lifted a notch or two."

"She only blew me."

"Good?"

"She was magnificent and swallowed the lot. My first time having a swallower."

"Congratulations. I left my stockings on for you." 

He pulled her sheet back slowly and was disappointed to see she was wearing a top but he was greeted with the first completely bald pussy he'd seen.

"You shave." he said stupidly, feeling like kicking himself. But she was lovely and simply said, "Don't all women who are sexually active?"

Then she was just as stupid. He'd entered the room in his night shorts so he pulled them down and she said, "Oh my, is that all you?"

He picked up one of her feet and began sucking her big toe. She continued to stare at him unfazed but her eyes began to widen when he leaned forward and began stroking her lower leg, up and down. Then he placed that left leg over his left shoulders and moved down licking her leg and for the first time heard her breathing a little raggedly. He smiled and caught that leg off his shoulder began running his erection over her knee.

By now Marlene was almost panting and she spread out her other leg and began fingering her slit. When he began to catch her arousal scent, Lee placed her leg back on the bed and climbed up between them and knee-shuffled up until he reached the stocking top and began licking, and growling at the back of his throat as well as stroking the leg opposite. He lifted up and saw her eyes were huge, and returned to work as she closed her eyes and began a fingers frenzy, squelching loudly now because she was really lubed up.

Lee wet-licked the lace top and moaned, "Pretty, pretty stockings."

Marlene moaned and convulsed and then cried softly, "Oh God, oh God and jerked and bounded up and down on her ass a few times. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her.

"That was truly amazing," she whispered. "Do you want me to suck you?"

Lee smiled and said it was okay, that Catherine had depleted him adequately.

"I want to sleep till Catherine wakes us."

Initially Marlene looked nervous and then smiled and said very well, she'd like that. She returned from the toilet and said to Lee, who was dozing, "Do you want to see them?"

He just grinned so she pulled off her top, cupped herself and said, "Nice ones huh?"

"The best I've ever seen in the flesh."

Marlene let them drop, not that they fell unduly far, and said, "You are such a lovely boy but since I'm allowing you to sleep with me you must not fuck me. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

She climbed into bed, kissed him romantically, and then turned away from him. Lee reached over and grabbed under her nearest boob and snuggled in against her, feeling himself growing against her flank and knowing she'd feel that too.

"My big boy with a biggie," she murmured and the slept until Catherine arrived with coffee for three just over three hours later and climbed in beside Marlene and gave her a sexy kiss.

"Isn't your nephew something?"

"Yes and he was very impressed with you."

"Oh really? And what did you get?" 

"Just a toe suck, leg massage and then had my stocking tops licked while I got myself away, the biggest mess from me in years."

"Oooh, I must have one of those before he returns to England."

The threesome had a lovely four hours playing tennis quietly, swimming, playing another game of tennis, showering together in the big shower and playing around a bit but with no penetration and then left, lunching on the way home and arriving in time for the two mothers to be home for the arrival of their children.

As Catherine came to the driver's window to kiss Lee goodbye she told him he'd been great company. "The other girls will want to meet you so next Tuesday we are having a surprise birthday party for Marlene but she's expecting it so it's no surprise," Catherine added. 

"Marlene giggled and said what a surprise.

"You will be invited because you socialize so well for a male," Catherine continued. "Do you mind if I ask everyone to wear stockings?"

"No, that's fine. I'm not embarrassed about it being so far from home."

As Marlene and Lee entered the house, the house phone went.

"Hi, yes thanks, we had a lovely couple of days. Yes he's here, just a moment."

"It's for you," Marlene said, and with a great smile handed the phone to Lee. 



Chapter 3

Lee Peach, just returned from overnight at Malibu Beach with his Aunt Marlene and one of her great-looking friend Catherine, with some light sexual activating occurring, first with Catherine with her accommodating mouth and then his aunt with her exciting stocking tops, the eighteen-year-old strutted to the phone wondering who was calling.

"Hello my sweet Englishman."

"Chrome?"

"Oh, you were expecting someone else calling to fit you up," Chrome said saucily. "It couldn't be my mom because I can see her out on the lawn."

"Are you wanting something Chrome?"

"Ooh. Is that an attempted brush-off or an invitation for me to confess?"

By now Lee gathered this was supposed to be a sexy teasing conversation. God, American women were so forward. He'd only met this babe once and she'd shown him what she had, and that was plenty, wearing a white bikini brief enough to be outlawed.

"I can't imagine I have anything to offer a beautiful virgin like you."

Chrome sounded as if she were swallowing her phone. She said huskily, "When may I see you again?"

"After dinner tonight – say 7:45. We could go on a proper walk."

"And?"

"I then race you home to your mommy before dark."

"My breasts are aching to feel your touch."

"But Chrome, "I'm only an ex-schoolboy remember. I haven't had time to harden my hands to scrape across your pale milk-white orbs to stimulate them the way you may wish."

"It doesn't matter, I'll live."

"Of course it's twenty-four hours since I shaved so there may be a bit of scrape on my chin and I can always lick and bite my way across their surface."

"You making me touch myself Lee," Chrome wailed. "Mom will come in and catch me at it."

"Right, sorry. I'll see you later."

"Mom and dad are going overnight on Saturday to Santa Barbara. Will you come to dinner and stay overnight?"

"I'd love to but won't stay the night unless you seek approval from your parents. I mean that Chrome. "No permission and I'm out the front door by 11:00."

"I've never asked them that before."

"Tell them I insist you seek permission and I bet you'll be surprised at their reaction."

"You really think so?"

"Yes, I gather from my mother adults get a kick out of being treated like adults by their children."

"I'll die of embarrassment."

Lee knew it was time to be firm. "Please yourself. The first time is always the most difficult time. My pick is your mother will ask your father for his opinion, he'll say I appear to be a nice and savvy kid and your them will smile and say he approves."

"How can you say that, you don't know my parents?"

Less said all he could say was he had his first impression and though inexperienced, he found that people general acted out how they first presented."

"You seem to know a lot for an eighteen-year-old."

"Thanks, how old are you?"

"Approaching twenty. Are you sexually very experience?"

"No, definitely not. I guess by your confidence you are so I rather look forward to spending a whole night with you. I pack plenty so you won't have to worry about inadequacy and I'll be a very eager-to-learn student."

"I'll have to think about asking them Lee. What if I lie and say I have your permission?"

"I'd feel betrayed if I found out."

"God, you make it hard for a girl."

"I thought that what girl's wanted?"

Chrome screamed with laughter and said she'd see him around 7:45 on the sidewalk.

Next morning Marlene shook Lee awake and kissed him sweetly.

"Good morning. There's an exited young woman wishing to speak to you," she smiled warmly, handing Lee the phone and leaving the room, turning at the door to wink at him.

"Oh Lee, I'm driving to university but just have to tell you the big news. I went into mommy and dad's bed last night, something I haven't done in years except on my birthday and Christmas morning. Apparently I looked so mournful they thought I was about to tell them I was hooked on drugs. Perhaps that's why they capitulated without a fight. Or maybe mom thought I was going to announce I was pregnant."

Lee yawned and scratched, wondering where this conversation would get to the point. He gathered by her excitement she'd received approval to allow him to bonk her through Saturday night in a stay over.

"It was exactly like you said, more or less. Mommy looked at me as if I'd stolen the family fortune – I rather think she has designs on you."

"Does she body paint?" Lee joked.

"What?"

"Skip it, it was a tease."

Chrome said she didn't think this was quite the time to tease her on something so important but when Lee agreed by saying "Right", that pushed her back on track.

"Mommy had her jealous look and stalled by asking daddy what did he think. The idiot asked what about and she sighed and said didn't he ever listen. So he said did she mean about the guy across the road sleeping with me, and mommy said scathingly did he mind if Lee spent Saturday night sleeping in their house. Daddy replied saying so that what the obscure conversation was all about and said you appeared to be a good type of guy so of course you could stay and he'd know I was in good hands."

"And that's it – you have approval?"

"I'm getting to that Lee," Chrome said tartly. "Mommy sniffed and told me that I scarcely knew you so couldn't I wait for a few weeks until I had time to thoroughly check you out and I said why, she never checked out...She interrupted me and screamed, telling me to shut my month and said of course I could have you to stay and she'd leave out some condoms. So, there you are, we have the green light, just as you required."

"Why would your mom want to leave out condoms?"

"Lee – oh fuck!" Chrome yelled. "I've gone through a red light."

"Any problems?"

"Oh God, no I don't think so. There was only one other car and the guy gave me an obscene gesture."

"Are the cops in pursuit?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm terminating the call – see you tonight."

So, daughter knew about mommy's adulterous activities but either daddy didn't know or mommy pretended he didn't know, Lee grinned. The Morgan's were an interesting family.

Putting on shorts he went out to the kitchen knowing the twins would have left for school, walking thirty yards to the corner to board the school bus. Marlene was at the table drinking coffee and putting down the cup gave him a dazzling smile and as she turned her chair with hip thrust and feet swivel to face him he saw what that was about when she spread her legs. She was wearing stockings and no panties. He dropped to his knees in front of her and she sighed.

Gloating at the silky touch of the stocking he was stroking, Lee felt his cock stir. Now who had a big smile? She'd showered so there was no overnight odor and that was a pity because he didn't fancy a clinical pure environment because this activity was all about filling his senses of touch, scent, eye contact and sound. As he studied the tops of the gray stockings he realized they were adorned at the tops by tiny red, green and yellow floral stitching. His cock stiffened further when she said in her sexiest voice, "Tell me dear one, who has the loveliest legs – me or my sister?"

"My mother, but you are right up there."

"Oh, I wish I could take you right up there but darling with young children I have a responsibility not to become sexually gross as my other standards could slump."

Lee snorted as he licked the flower buds and saw her slip a finger into her pussy and then she withdraw the now moist finger, which released the odor he favored. Marlene turned that finger underside up and re-entered it with a companion finger and put them to work.

"I don't mind," he said truthfully. "This gives me satisfaction and I admire you for setting minimum standards below which you are not prepared to go with me, your nephew."

Marlene tugged at his hair with her free hand. "You are a darling boy. I'll speak to one of my friends to give you everything you want and to help you enhance her pleasure."

"That call from Chrome – it was to say her parents approved me staying overnight with her on Saturday when they are up north."

"That will be lovely for you darling but she'd only twenty. I'm offering you an older and much more experienced tutor capable of initiating you into the full glory of sex."

"Okay, if you wish. Ask her to wear stockings."

After more play Marlene began to squirm. "You can lick me as I come – I go that one more step with you but don't penetrate me with your tongue. Okay?"

"Okay."

Lee slurped and excited Marlene so much that she almost fell off her chair. She ended up spreading, requesting he clean up completely and before that finished she released again, sobbing he was such a good boy.

Marlene appeared exhausted but when he stood and she sighted the 'tent' she unzipped Lee and began to jerk him off. 

"May I coat your tits?"

Although not replying she leaned forward, so he pulled off her top and removed her bra.

Lee looked at the big orbs, the nipples now standing like pencil ends, groaned, and they both stared as his ejaculations.

After cleaning up they went for a swim and during a rest he said, "That really was sex, wasn't it. You can't deny it even though it was accomplished without penetration from me?"

"It was sex, glorious sex," Marlene conceded. "Suck my tits darling."

Before going to their rooms to dress Lee suggested his aunt appeared to be requiring more sex that what she was getting.

"Oh you are wiser beyond your years Lee. How is it you know so much?"

"Good schooling I would think but I don't only suck mommy's stockings. We talk for hours and hours at a time. She was involved in the arts, has worked in international business, has been politically active and of course studied for two masters degrees. I will have learned greatly from her. What I was about to suggest was do you think it's wise to isolate yourself for a month from Clan whenever you decide he's been fooling around?"




Stocking Tops



Marlene looked thoughtfully at her nephew and said, "I have wondered if it's the right way to display my disapproval. Setting the standard of one month without sex with him punishes me as will as him."

"Yes, I can appreciate that but if he's not getting sex with you what is his alternative?"

"Oh God, I'm responsible for him repeating his follies? You know, I'm stupid – I'd never considered that."

"I would not think anyone could call you stupid," Lee said dryly. "You display a great brain. I think the better choice of word in that context is 'emotional', that you were too emotional to think straight."

"You are so kind," Marlene smiled, "and I must admit perhaps you are right."

Lee verbalized what he was thinking. "I really don't know the answer but why don't you take him out to dinner and get it off your chest, er," Lee said, glancing at her chest, "get it out in the open."

"Talk to him about it? Gawd that would only make him think I want him chained to me."

"Do you?"

"No, of course not. I wouldn't want him under my feet all the time. He works very long hour and deserves to kick up with his pals at times and shaft a babe or two who are all over him."

"Have you told him you feel about this, that an occasional bit on the side is perhaps acceptable but you don't want him going overboard with other woman and you want to be his Queen Babe?"

"No, of course not, and I'm not sure if he'd know how to react if I coughed out my inner thoughts."

Less looked at her and said coldly, "This if you don't believe he cares enough about you then consider finding a suitable replacement and divorce him."

"No!"

"Then end your misery. Talk to him after returning to his bed. Do more things with him and share his interests more. Go into his office to collect him for a pre-arranged lunch so the staff or associates he bonks see you and know what you are up against."

"How do you know this?"

"It's what I'd do if I were in your shoes, having no wish to be only living half a life. Perhaps you two have drifted apart without realizing it or without thinking of how to put the drift into reverse?"

Marlene tied her towel around her bared lower body. She said he'd commented enough, as she didn't want to become depressed. She promised to think about what he'd said to her.

"There's just one more thing. If you talk to him a great deal about your women friends, consider cutting that back drastically. I wouldn't think he'd be really interested in what they say or do apart from thinking about their tits and pussies. Men get like that I understand. He married you because he was interested in you and should be maintaining much more than a passing interest in you. Teach him how to pleasure you via your stockings."

Lee walked off, leaving Marlene gaping at him.

* * *

After lunch Marlene visited her laid-back friend Stella and talked to her about Lee.

"Am I hearing you correctly – you want me to allow your nephew to use me as a fuckbunny and for me to tutor him on technique and finishing off?"

"Exactly."

"Why don't you administer to his needs? My John has told me several times you are one of the best fucks around."

Marlene turned crimson, making Stella smile, and said well she could say the same thing about John. "It's just as a mother I have to draw the line somewhere and I decided incest was one pathway I would not traverse. I'm sure copulating with my nephew would be incest."

"I wouldn't know but I guess someone is an authority on that. But why me?"

Marlene stroked Stella's cheek. "Of everyone in our group, I figured you would embarrass him the least, teach him the most and be the best at revealing you were truly enjoying what he was doing to you."

"I'll try to not let you or him down darling," Stella said, kissing one of her best friends under the chin."

Marlene sighed happily and reached around to unzip the back of her dress.

That afternoon the twins arrived home in great excitement and Lee, who was peeling fresh apples for Marlene's apple pie looked up and saw all three of them smiling at him and Marlene gave him a cute wave. She then picked up the phone and spoke to someone and then Marlene handed the phone to Nellie and she talked very animatedly for the rather shy twin.

"What was that all about?" he asked, as Marlene arrived to make the pie.

"Just something, you'll learn about it at dinner tonight. Clan is coming home early so we can all eat together."

When the first course dishes had been cleared away Nellie went to her father's study and returned to stand beside Lee's chair.

"Nellie called me this afternoon with some fantastic news," Clan said gravely. "Her school had swimming time trials all day today and in her age group for girls Nellie and Clarita go forward to the inter-school swim-offs."

"Oh that's great Nellie, well done," Lee said, making the girl beside him squirm with pleasure."

"But that's not all – tell Lee what you saw Katie," said her father.

Red-faced in excitement, Katie said Nellie finished first by a long way.

"It's the first time she's ever beaten Clarita," her father said. "I called the school and was told her winning margin was seven seconds, her best time ever. Thanks to you and your coaching Lee. What did you do – Nellie says she'd had to concentrate on her forearm position?"

"Yeah, we really worked on that this week. She told me she had a time trial coming up. I spotted she he creating drag through dropped elbows so I demonstrated to her what early vertical forearm position was all about and although her shoulder strength has to develop yet she is very determined and effected improvement. We practiced for hours and good girl Katie and her mom helped out by setting up homework drafts for her to copy in her own words and style. I knew she was responding but I didn't want to push her against the clock as she's only twelve."

"I've noticed a general lift in happiness in this household since your arrival buddy, well done. I sent my Associate out to buy something her eighteen-year-old is hooked on and wants when they go skiing. Give it too him Nellie."

"Thank you for helping me ever so much Lee," she said and to her family's surprise pulled him down by the shoulder and kissed his cheek.

"It's what Irma's boy says calls the latest craze to come from Chicago," Clan said, as Lee pulled out a black twill three-quarter length black jacket with three buttons. The label indicated it was 'A Revolver Jacket.'

"I've read about it," Marlene said. "I can't recall if Revolver is the manufacturer's name or just the product brand name but it's styled on a design loosely based on jackets worn in the days of Wyatt Earp. It's very American. Wyatt of OK Corral fame died here in Los Angeles in 1929, aged 80."

Lee was impressed by that information. "I love it – a little too warm for here I would guess but great to wear back home." He put it on and Katie said he now looked liked "a real man."

"Thank you guys, you're a great family and work well together. Nellie and Katie, when I was young I always wished my daddy would come home early on special occasions and remember my birthday and stuff like that and not make my mommy feel so lonely. You are lucky having such a great mommy and daddy. Thank you Clan for making the effort," Lee added, tugged at his jacket sleeve and glancing at Clan who nodded without any change in expression.

"Our daddy loves you," Katie said sagely. "He really loves us."

When Clan finished staring at the tablecloth he looked up and Lee saw Clan staring at Marlene who had pulled Nellie to her to kiss her.

"I'll put my jacket away and read for a while," Lee mumbled. "Chrome will call in latter to take me to a late movie."

Apparently that gave Clan an idea. "It's Saturday tomorrow, why don't we all take Lee and show him some of the real sights of the city and finish up for dinner at a theme park. You may invite Chrome to come with us if you wish buddy." 

""Yes oh yes," Katie said, rushing to hug her father.

* * *

When coming into the house to collect Lee, Chrome accepted Clan's invitation to accompany them on the city tour the next day. 

The movie interested them both and before too long her head was on Lee's left shoulder and his hand cupped her firm boob. Towards the end of the movie she squirmed around and the next thing she had an arm around Lee's neck and was offering a finger for him to suck, leaving it just under his nostrils to notify him where that finger had been. As he sucked she bent her other shoulder around and grasped his rock hard cock and they emerged from the cinema more than ready for sex, or so they thought. But no, when Chrome attempted to start her car to drive off to park in a secluded spot the vehicle would not start. She swore and pointed to the instrument panel and declared they were out of gas.

She called her father and he arrived almost an hour later with four gallons of gas and transferred it into her gas tank. "It's late, I'll follow you home to ensure you don't have further problems.

"It's just a matter of running out of gas. We'll be okay daddy."

"Nonsense, your fuel pump could have sucked up debris. I've warned you repeatedly not to run on empty."

Chrome sighed and said yes, he had warned her. They drove home without incident and Glen Edwards watched as Lee kissed his daughter and the guys then shook hands good night.

"Have a good time at Santa Barbara," Lee said forlornly.

"Thank you Lee and you have a great night tomorrow pounding my daughter senseless."

Glen had mumbled but Lee was sure that's what he'd said.

Lee entered the house quietly, hoping his aunt would put on her stockings to allow him to run his boner up and down one of her legs until he ended his sexual tension. Quietly he entered her bedroom and turned on the bedside light. First he saw she was not in bed and then became aware her personal things had gone. Obviously she'd moved back in with Clan.

He went to his room, absolutely gutted and almost gnashing his teeth.



Chapter 4

Chrome, the experienced and very forward young university student from across the street had deftly worked to arouse Lee on their first date and then they'd had car trouble and she'd called her father to bring a can of gas and he'd shepherded them home, leaving Lee with no opportunity to check out her stockings let alone have her help him to pull the trigger. Instead he did that solo, in the shower.

Lee, Chrome and the Moran family had a great morning on the 'Show Lee Los Angeles' tour. They mainly did the things the twins wanted which included spending an hour roller-skating. The twins were good, the two guys were next to useless but Marlene and Chrome performed like the Queen and Princess of skating, clearly the stars on the rink at that time.

They were cooling off with sodas when Chrome's phone went. It was her grandfather calling from San Juan Capistrano wanting her mother. Her grandmother had fallen heavily and was waiting to have her hip x-rayed although the opinion was it was only bruised.


"Don't worry granddad, mom and dad have gone north, I'll come as soon as I can. Phone me if you become concerned."

Clan backtracked home in the seven-seat SUV to drop Chrome off. Lee suggested he could accompany Chrome but she said he should continue with the tour. "Granddad will be upset so it's best I go alone. She kissed Lee and said, "Sorry to do this, but it's best that I stay the night even if grandma is okay. I'll get them settled down."

They kissed. 

Lee was taken to a market day, which he found most interesting and after going up Rodeo Drive they stopped for lunch at a restaurant before going on to a fun park.

During opportune moments Lee expressed his delight that Marlene and Clan were an item again. She giggled and said she'd had enough sex last night to last her a week and wasn't it lovely that Clan was walking about with her hand-in-hand. Lee told her about the frustration to the end of his evening and Marlene was so sympathetic, especially when his arrangement to have dinner with Chrome that evening.

"She had gained her parent's approval for me to stay the night with her."

"Oh, what a cruel twist of fate." Marlene looked thoughtful and then went off to the restroom, stopping to kiss Clan who was returning with the girls who'd been inspecting the refrigerated cabinet storing the desserts.

When they were walking through the fun park Marlene slowed to talk to Lee. "I called my friend Stella and you're in luck – her husband John is away on an overnight fishing trip. I'm to bring you to her this evening, if that's what you want, and if she approves of you, you may stay the night with her including having later dinner."

"Is she the woman you mentioned to me yesterday."

"Yes, one of my best friends. She was anxious to learn if you knew if you two got together it would be adultery and I said yes. Just be your natural self and she'll fall for you like a stone, like I did."

"You are sure about that?" Lee asked anxiously.

"Absolutely, and I'm pleased I have not described what you look like."

"What do I look like?"

"Young, handsome, tall and broad-shoulders with tousled hair, engaging smile and charm to melt the panties off any interested lady."

Lee sighed and said he was glad she hadn't described him to Stella, as she would have over-sold him.

"Oh yeah," Marlene grinned. "Come on, let's catch up to the others. The girls are hoping to take you on the Twisted Snake ride and watch you vomit."

"The little charmers."

"It's Nellie's idea. To our astonishment she'd gone sweet on you."

"Oh God."

"Bear with it, it's just superficial. She's just entering that age a little earlier than expected. Until your rise in acceptance, they both were showing no interest in males. Her next target is bound to be her father – she'll become daddy's girl and perhaps trigger Katie's interest. I thought Katie would be the first to show signs of developing sophistication, but there you go – that shows what I know about women."

"I'm a little anxious about Stella – I might be inadequate for her."

"She's laidback and sensitive, Lee and teaches music professionally and is a brilliant pianist. Trust me." 

They caught up with the others and Nellie broke away to take Lee's arm without saying a word. As if to show her trust in Lee, Marlene stepped forward and took Clan's free arm. Katie turned around and looked at Nellie and Lee and then said something to her father. He turned and looked at Nellie and Lee and grinned.

* * *

Lee was bitterly disappointed when sighting Stella Maygrove as she opened the front door to greet her two visitors. Ever since his arrival in LA he'd been figuratively overcome by the almost radiant attractiveness of the younger adult women and even some of the not so young. Of course he realized that instant appeal gave nothing away about personality, disposition and intelligence and their addictive blonde hair and eye-catching breasts could be true or false or substantially doctored. Still, mirages or not, what a lovely way to look and think while developing the addiction.

As the disappointment lingered, refusing to fade like usual bursts of emotion inevitably do, he attempted to kill his desire to be back in the T-bird to quickly reduce Stella to a thin memory. Didn't Marlene regard him as 'a gentleman'? Aye, and he loved watching the faces of women when he spoke to them oozing a little charm and delivering some well chosen words – well-meant words of course. He wasn't a cad and really liked women, particularly those exhibiting a softer nature and even more so if they wore stockings and (a sigh) even fucking awful panty hose or 'tights' as some women called them.

Lee watched his aunt, the truly beautiful Marlene, utter her already familiar little squeal as she stepped forward to greet a female she really liked. Yes, she'd chirped a squeal over nondescript Stella and right now they were lip-locked as if ready to go beyond the bounds of accepted front doorstep behavior.

Well, what was it about Stella?

She had great auburn hair but as far as Lee could see, that was about all. However, Marlene trusted him so he instinctively trusted her over this encounter. Besides, he'd missed out in sexual connection on two occasions within the last twenty-four hours with Chrome. Marlene knew that and had brought forward his meeting with Stella – as compensation, Marlene had said. Again, what was it about Stella? He groaned and accepted he was about to start finding out as the women were unclasping. He hoped he was a dummy about to ride a steep life-changing curve in learning about women.

"This is my darling Englishman Lee Peach." That's all Marlene said, no build up except the unexpected use of the word darling, but in instant review Lee recalled the emphasis she'd used in saying my darling.

Stella's smile of welcome was great, restrained and almost wholesome. In other words genuine even if the stranger she was meeting had been heavily endorsed to her. Lee approved of that.

"Not Mousier le Peach?"

Lee did a double take. Only his mother ever called him that. Stella had an eyebrow lifted above a wee smile and Marlene was sucking her bottom lip and smiling as if waiting expectedly to hear him respond deftly.

Non. Stella, comment allez-vous? Tu veux aller au lit?

The women laughed at him admiringly as they watched the blush grow.

They had coffee overlooking the pool and then, concluding that fifteen minutes of casual conversation, Stella said calmly, "You may go now my lovely. Thank you for delivering such a charming student to me."

As she reversed down the driveway, turning for a final look at Stella and Lee, Stella by then had an arm round Lee's waist, Marlene almost clipped the gatepost.

Stella took Lee's hand and led him inside, closing and locking the door.

He watched nervously, wondering what she'd expect from him. "Stella..."

She swung around in front of him and quickly opening the top two buttons of his shirt, kissed him wetly in the middle of his almost hairless chest.

"Yes?"

"I er forget what I was about to say," he lied, knowing he'd said 'Stella' and then stumbled. He lifted up her chin and kissed her long and sweetly.

They parted and Stella asked, "Have you ever been in the bath with a woman?"

"Yes, with my mother."

"Oh, I meant much more recently than that."

Lee smiled and watched Stella's eyes widen when he said ten days ago must be recent.

Breathing a little obviously, she said "Go to the far bedroom suite and start the bath darling. I'll fetch some wine and nibbles."

"Is that all I'm allowed to nibble?"

Stella laughed, eyes shining. She touched his arm and hurried off.

Returning, Stella poured two glasses of white wine and gave the toast, "To a wonderful twelve hours of companionship, unrestrained sex, dinner and broken sleep."

"Unrestrained?"

"Yes darling," she purred, pouring salts and then two lots of oil into the bath. Unisex toys and every orifice."

"Butt fucking?" Lee asked, eyes bulging.

"I did say unrestrained darling."

Stella held up her arms to be undressed. She was wearing an expensive Chinese-style top without buttons or ties and when he removed the pretty green and lace bra Lee found modest but beautifully shaped boobs. He struggled to remove her very tight jeans and she made no attempt to assist him beyond moving cooperatively. Pulling down his green and lace panties he sighted a lovely patch of trimmed auburn hair lightly covering pouty lips. He stared in admiration and that encouraged his giggling older companion to seize a handful of his hair to steady herself.

* * *

Lee left Stella next morning at 10:00, barely being able to walk without difficult because he was exhausted and his balls were aching, feeling as if they were about to drop off. He turned down the offer of a ride home because he wished to collect his thoughts.




Stocking Tops



He'd spent fifteen hours with Stella and now treasured every moment. She'd taken him to new territory and for the first time he'd successfully completed a pussy visit to finish to his satisfaction, with Stella appearing bent on pulling and drawing him completely into her depths instead of replicating his experiences with previous sexual partners whom numbered only six, who'd either struggled to push him away at the point of climax in some kind of desperate move or collapsing under him like a punctured balloon screaming at him to stop because they'd finished.

The only time Stella had backed off a bit was his introduction to anal. She'd groaned and moaned that he was too big but when he attempted to withdraw she'd screamed at him, "No way!" They both stuck it out, sweating heaps until finally they both got away. She told him later that previously she'd only achieved anal orgasm with a toy and therefore Lee should be immensely proud of himself. Lee was too exhausted to gloat and collapsed into fatigued sleep, probably with a smile on his face.

As he walked the three miles back to his aunt and family, referring to Stella's map, he knew part of the reason why he was walking so stiffly. It had been the first time he'd had a butt plug inserted and earlier Stella had used a slim vibrator on him as he was plowing her doggy-style on the table after dinner. 

Lee drank from the water bottle she'd given him as he walked and between drinks munched the two chocolate bars, thinking what an incredible woman Stella was. She'd spoken all the time to him as if he were an adult male, not as an eighteen-year-old fresh out of school. Between bouts of sex she'd played his requested tunes for him on the piano, giving him a colorful précis of her life including accounts of her first sexual experiences and added she and her husband John had so far been unsuccessful in starting a family. He recalled their following comments.

"Perhaps you may come to our assistance."

"What, aren't you protected?"

"No – not for the past three years. Perhaps I should have told you – oh, of course I should. I apologize. I can look around for some rubbers if you wish."

"No, it's okay, just a bit of a shock. Will you write to me if you suspect it was me who made you pregnant?"

"No."

"Oh, um. Why not?"

"I think it would be best if I were the only person who knew."

"Oh."

"If that is the end of that, I'll make coffee and give you some sweet cookies. Then I'll teach you some of my favorite positions and how you can increase my pleasure and what I can do to increase your enjoyment."

She'd even put stockings on for him, saying she usually preferred panty hose. The tops of her legs bulged too much to have the erotic attractiveness of the thigh flesh above the stocking tops that both Marlene and his mother displayed. Even so, her delight with his groaning as he licked brought Stella to a writhing state of excitement. When he pushed up and entered her she'd clamped him so hard he imagined the head of his cock being severed because of the intense pressure.

Turning aside from the sex, Lee thought he'd learned a valuable lesson: he must look for the inner beauty of a women and not simply judge her by his stocking tops – er, judge her by her external appearance. Stella looked rather plain, saved really by having great hair, her eye color was nondescript between green and gray he thought, and she lacked real curves and her tits could almost be covered by each of his hands but he'd found her nipples were no different in size than his mother's or Marlene's.

She also related to him intelligently or sexily, as appropriate, and even engaged in penetrating conversation. He winced at recalling one encounter:

"You are rather intimate with your mother. Have you ever fully seduced her?"

"No, and I don't think I should."

"I don't think so either."

Lee admired her for not bringing Marlene into their conversations. He would have thought a woman so close to both of them would have done that, but not Stella. He'd wondered whether Stella and Marlene had sexual encounters and suspected they did but thought that was their business so dropped the thought.

Arriving home he knocked on Marlene's bedroom door.

"Hi," she called. "Come in."

Lee walked in and noticed her red face and Clan was on his back, arm over his eyes and he called "Hi."

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" Lee blurted, immediately biting his lip.

"Yes," Marlene giggled, "But we've almost finished. Go make coffee and we'll join you outside."

Lee retreated with as much dignity he could muster and made coffee. The twins emerged from their bedroom in damp swimsuits. Nellie raced over and took Lee's hand and invited him to swim with her.

"You too Katie."

"No thanks, what's the use? I'm not as good a swimmer as Nellie."

"But you are lively and make us laugh. Come on, don't exclude yourself."

"Nellie?" Katie asked doubtfully.

"Yes of course. I'll let you share him. Let's push him under."

With a delighted squeal Katie jumped into the pool.

Minutes later Lee climbed out of the pool to join the girls' parents.

"You are very good with children buddy. Nellie is no longer shy of you."

"They are both great kids Clan but I think Katie will always be the dominant twin."

"I think so too. Marlene has some news for you."

"Yes, Marlene smiled. Vicky called at 8:00 this morning to check on how you were going. I lied and said you were out on a run and would call her later. She said your father is over his anger at your being expelled so it's safe for you to return. I invited her over to travel back with you. She said she'd stay a week but I've talked her into staying for a month."

"Really?"

"Yes really."

Clan said he understood Lee had spent the night with Stella to receive tuition and looked as if she'd pulled him through the hoops. "Tell us about it in detail, buddy. Marlene and Stella are regarded as two of the best lays around here and of course your mother as well."

Lee could scarcely believe what he'd just heard. Clan and Victoria? And Clan brazenly saying that in front of his wife!

Glancing at Lee hoping she'd been distracted by the twins and had not heard Clan saying that, Lee was greeted by Marlene's wink. "Your mother when she's over here becomes one of the girls – one of the sexiest ones."

Lee boggled.

The house phone went and Marlene went in to answer it. She returned and said it was Chrome. "Her grandmother is okay – just bruising around the hip and everything's settled. She's on her way home. She said her parents would be late arriving home so I've invited her to dinner and to stay the night."

Lee asked had she accepted.

"Of course," Marlene said. "She's not silly. Now tell us about your adventures with Stella and then it's off to a bath and bed for you. I have no wish for you to be a sub-performer for Chrome."

"Chrome is good but her mom is even better," Clan yawned. "Start talking buddy."

THE END



Stocking Wearing Cocksucker



This is a story of fiction, didn’t happen, but I can dream, can’t I?

It was a Saturday night and my wife said, “I want you to take me to one of those movie/peep shows with you. The ones where you jerk off while you watch the movie. I want to go with you.” 

“Why?” I asked. 

“Because I want to see what you like about them. You could watch a porno movie here and jerk off, why do you go there?” She had asked me about them before and had always wondered. 

“I just like to.” I said.

“Do you ever see other guys there, you know other guys jerking off also?”

“There are guys there, sure. But they each have their own booth.” 

“Didn’t you say some have holes to watch and do stuff through?”

“Yes, a lot of them have ‘glory holes.’ That’s what they are called.” 

“Do you ever put your thing through the hole? “ 

“Ah, yes, I have.”

“Did you get a blowjob then?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Was it good? “

“Yes.”

“Do you always get a blowjob?”

“NO.  Just sometimes.”

“Do you ever, you know.”

“What?”

“Do you ever – do it also?”

“What?”

“Do you ever put one in your mouth?”

“NO, I haven’t”

“Do you ever want to?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you think about it? Don’t you think about doing it? Don’t you think about doing it when you are wearing my panties? When you put on your garter belt and stockings – don’t you think about it then?”

“Ah… well.”  My wife knew I loved wearing stockings, garter belt and panties. I’d been doing it for years and it stared when I always wanted her to wear them when we fucked. It really turns me on. Then one day she said, “If it turns you on so much, maybe you should wear them.” I agreed and put them on before we fucked. I was wonderful! I loved it. She would wear them also and sometimes it was just me. She knew I’d been trying on and wearing stockings because she found my stash once. This was her way of getting it out in the open. 

She repeated it: “Are you sure? Don’t you think about it? Don’t you think about doing it?”

“Don’t you wear your garter belt, panties and stockings to the movies sometimes?  You must think about it then. Do you do it then?”

“No, I don’t do it.”

“You wear your lingerie there don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you think about it then?”

“Yes, I do think about it. Yes, I do.”

She looked at me and said: “Go put on your black stockings, garter belt and panties. Go get them and let me watch you put them on. Put on your bra also.”

I got my black lingerie out of my “special drawer” and she watched as I stripped and then put on my garter belt. Then I sat down and pulled up my stockings, fastened them and slipped my black panties up my stocking covered legs. I pulled out my black bra and after I put it on, I stuffed some stockings into the cups.

My wife went into the bathroom and came back with some “Opium” perfume. She sprayed some on my bare stomach and then like I liked to do, she sprayed some on my panties. Then she did a spray around my bra and repeated my stomach and panties.

“WOW.” I said. “I love the smell of that perfume.” 

She gave me her eyeliner and told me to put a little on. She said: “It’s turning you on, isn’t it? “

I shook my head yes. 

She said, “Put on your khaki pants, slip on your deck shoes and find a tight white shirt to wear tonight.“ 

“BUT,” I said. 

Then she said “It’s OK. We are just going to the movies; it’s dark in there, right? I want you to be able to take it off if you want to, or show it off if you want.”

She slipped on her black stockings and garter belt and I thought we should just stay home!  But she had different ideas for us. She put on a short black skirt and was wearing her black pushup bra. Then she decided that we should be dressed alike so she put on a tight khaki skirt, tight white tshirt and her black heels. She looked HOT! 

We kissed and she put her hand on my hard cock. We walked outside to the car and I drove to the book store. When we got there, I parked the car and she kissed me then felt my cock again. She whispered to me, “I want you to do it tonight, OK?  You want to do it don’t you?”

I looked at her and said, “Yes, I think I’d like to try it.” I was sooo hot, I wanted to try it and she was encouraging me.

“I want you to suck a cock tonight, I want to watch you suck a cock – do you want to?” She was still feeling my hard cock as she was whispering and kissing me. 

“Yes, I think I’d like to try it.” 

“No! Say it! Say you want to do it!”

“Yes, I want to do it.”

“Say it!”

“Yes, I want to do it.”

“Say it. Tell me what you want to do!”

“I want to give a blowjob, suck a cock.” 

“Tell me what you are going to do. Say it!”

“I’m going to suck a cock tonight.”

“Are you going to be a cocksucker? Tell me you are going to be a cocksucker and that I can call you a cocksucker.”

“YES, I’m going to be a cocksucker, you can call me that.”

“OK, cocksucker, let’s go in there and find you a cock to suck.”

We got out of the car and you could see my hard on in my pants and we both obviously had on black bras under our white t’s.  I could smell my perfume and that just turned me on even more. We walked into the store and no one really looked at us. We walked to the back and picked out a movie and went into the booth. I locked the door and put a pile of quarters on the machine. 

She said, “Take off your pants and get comfortable – your shirt also.” 

I unbuckled my belt and dropped my pants and then removed my shirt. She folded them up for me and put them on the bench. 

I was standing there in my black panties, garter belt, stockings and bra – that was it.

“How about you?” I asked. 

She said, “This night is for you dear.”

I put a quarter in the machine and the movie started. That really lit up the room and you could see how I was dressed. We were kissing and she kept feeling my cock as we watched the movie. She had picked a cocksucking movie and there was a good looking girl dressed like me on her knees sucking on a cock. My wife said, “That’s what you are going to do, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I said.

“You want to be a cocksucker, don’t you?”

‘Yes.” I said and I reached over and unlatched the door and opened it a little. 

We were standing next to each other watching her suck on a guys cock. I’d been in here alone a lot of times and I usually minded my own business and just watched the movie and jerked off.  She pulled my cock out of my panties and was stroking it with me as I watched the girl in the movie lick and suck on his hard cock.  The door moved and a guy stepped into the booth, looked at us and asked if we minded sharing,

I said. “OK” and stood there watching the screen and holding my cock against my panties, covered with both hands. He was watching the movie and he glanced over at how I was dressed and then down toward my cock then I saw him unzip his pants and pull his cock out – I didn’t want to look directly at his cock, but I could tell he was starting to stroke it. I was getting harder again as I watched the girl in the movie suck on the guys cock and watched my new friend stroke his cock. He was not bad looking and on the slender side, I was already thinking about doing it with him. 

He asked me what we liked and I said: “She is just here to watch me suck a cock. I like to fuck and I like to suck and be sucked.” 

He said: “OK” and reached over and took my cock in his hand. I wanted to cum right there as he was feeling my hard cock. He moved down toward my cock and put his lips around the head of my cock and let it slip into his warm mouth. Again, I just wanted to cum, it felt soooo good. I was watching this movie with the girl dressed the way I was in black stockings and garter belt and she was sucking a cock as I was having my cock sucked. I felt for his cock and could feel it was hard as I stroked him as he gave me a blow job. I was really thinking about his cock as he sucked me – I wanted to feel his cock inside of my mouth. His cock felt great and I knew I wanted to taste him and feel him in my mouth. 

My wife leaned in and whispered to me. “Is it good?” I nodded yes. 

She said, “You want to do it, cocksucker, don’t you?” I nodded again. 

“Does his cock feel good in your hand? How about getting it into your mouth?”  She kissed me and pushed her tongue in my mouth, pulled back and said, “It’s your turn cocksucker.”

I said, “I’d like to do you some – is that alright? I want your cock in my mouth. Could I suck on your hard cock? Can I give you a blowjob and be your cocksucker?” I’m not sure how much of that I said, but it was all what I was thinking as I felt his cock.  

He pulled his mouth from my hard cock and let me move toward his cock, he had his hand on my head as I moved down and put my lips on his hardness and felt it slip between my lips and into my mouth. It felt delicious as it filled my mouth. He was holding my head and I was sucking on his cock and then he was fucking my face – just like I’d wanted. I had my hands on his ass and was letting him fuck me. I felt his hardness move into and around my mouth as I sucked his cock. I was sucking him and then holding his cock with my hand as I helped jerk it off into my mouth. I really wanted him to cum for me – I wanted him to cum in my mouth. 

I opened my eyes and looked up at him, with my lips wrapped around his cock. I watched him, watched him with his hard cock in my mouth, watched him enjoying my blowjob. I looked up at my wife and she was smiling at me, she was happy. I was so turned on as I sucked him and watched him enjoy it. After awhile, I could feel him stiffen and I was thinking he was getting ready to shoot his load into my warm mouth. That’s what I wanted; I wanted him to cum in my mouth for me. Then he started to cum and he practically filled my waiting mouth with his cum. I sucked and swallowed his thick tasty cum. When he was spent, I sucked and got all of his cum into my mouth and then I kissed his cock before I stood up and looked at him. 

He said, “You are good.” 



Am I a cocksucker? I wondered as he felt my still hard cock and leaned in and kissed my cum covered mouth. 

“I’m a cocksucker.” I said to him. 

“You sure are and you are good.” 

“No, I mean it I said, “I just gave you a blowjob and I’m a cocksucker.”  I want to say it – I’m a cocksucker and I loved it. 

He was still feeling my hard cock and he said “I loved it also, you are a good cocksucker.”

“Yes.” I said.  

“Are you a cocksucker?” She asked me.

“Yes, I am, and I’d like to do it again!” I was continuing to play with his cock and all this talk was getting it hard again. 

He said - “What do you want to do again? Say it.”

“I want to put your hard cock in my mouth and give you a blowjob. Can I suck your cock again?” 

“Can I cum in your mouth again?”

“YES!”

He pushed on my shoulders and I moved down toward his hardening cock and moved my mouth to meet it and then let it slip between my pussy lips mouth. I was sucking on his cock again and it was fully hard in my mouth. I slurped and sucked him and I opened my eyes and watched him enjoy my blowjob and watched my wife enjoy my cocksucking. I moved slowly and then faster as his hardness moved between my lips, fucking my mouth. I loved this position, sucking him off. 

When I thought he was getting close – he held my head and said – “Not yet, I want to do you, I want to suck your cock now. It’s my turn to do it.”

He pulled me up toward him and I let his hard cock slowly slip out of my mouth. I had my hand on his cock and I kissed it before I moved up. When I looked at him, he moved in and kissed my mouth with his tongue moving in where his cock has just been, I liked that. He was pulling my cock and he moved away from my lips and moved down to meet my hardness. I wanted to cum as soon as I felt his lips on my cock and then my cock moved in between his lips and his mouth was warm and wonderful around my cock. He sucked on my cock as I watched him, my cock moving in and out between his lips. I loved it – this it the feeling I had just given him and I loved it! What a cocksucker I thought – I’m a cocksucker and I can do this to a guy’s cock! 

He had his hands on my stockinged legs and was feeling them, I wanted to cum for him and I wanted to suck him some more. I would do this again I thought as I started to stiffen and get ready to cum. I touched his head and he looked up at me with my cock still in his mouth and he was still sucking and I could feel his tongue on my cock. I said: ”I’m ready to cum, do you want it?”

He moved his head up and down and sucked me faster as I exploded into his mouth as my wife was kissing my cum covered lips. I came for him and he was swallowing my cum like I had just swallowed his. After he sucked me off and got all of my cum, we kissed again and I could taste my cum in his mouth. 

My wife insisted that I get back on my knees and finish what I’d started earlier. I was still holding his delicious cock and I wanted to see if I could feel it grow harder in my mouth. I assumed the position again and kissed his cock and then slipped it gently between my lips and into my mouth. He grew harder in my mouth as I sucked him and felt him with my lips and tongue.. I was watching my wife and watching him as I gave him the second blowjob of the night.  I sucked him and loved it as he got ready to shoot his load again. He was really fucking my mouth, fucking my face this time – his hips were moving and I was holding him tight by his ass cheeks as he was holding my head and really fucking me. My nose was in his pubic hair and I could feel his balls on my chin – I was a cocksucking bitch for him. I was a cocksucking bitch for my wife. He smelled like my “Opium” perfume and cum – a great combination. 

My wife was smiling again and he was enjoying my cocksucking – She said, “Make him cum. Make him cum cocksucker.” 

I was feeling his balls with my left hand as he fucked me. I reached over to my wife and as I sucked his cock, I ran my right hand up her stocking covered leg, up to her panties and she was wet! She pushed against my hand and I slipped a finger around her panties and into her wet pussy. I was finger fucking her as he started to cum in my mouth! I swallowed his cum again as he filled my mouth. I finished sucking him and milked all the cum from his cock as it was getting smaller. I kissed his cock again and then stood up.

My wife was all over my cum covered mouth and we kissed and she could taste him. We were feeling each other and he said: “You guys are great. Here is my phone number in case you ever want to do this again.”  With that he finished fastening his pants and left our booth. 

We sat there and made out a little and she had me hard again. 

“Can you walk out of here in your stockings without your pants and shirt?”

I said, “Only if you will also.”

She smiled and said, “Maybe next time. Get dressed cocksucker.”

As I was dressing she said: “Did you have a good time, do you like sucking cock?”

I smiled and said, “Yes I had a good time and yes, I liked sucking a cock.”

That’s how I became a stocking wearing cocksucker for my wife!

----

Let me know what you thought of my first story!

Good or bad - let me know.



Stockings



I was teasing him and I knew it.

I moved just as slow as I could removing my stockings. With practiced expertise I opened my legs just enough to get his attention but not far enough for him to see anything except maybe a quick glimpse of my pink panties. I carefully placed the stockings in my shoes and looked up at him with a gracious smile. He was grinning at me very self-consciously. His hands were crossed to in front of him in a vain attempt to hide his erection. He was fully clothed except for his coat with was lying on the only other chair in the room.

My pink, sleeveless dress had a single clasp just below the neck in the back. I went to him, turned around and held up my hair so he could undo it. With as much grace as I could muster, I slid it off over my head, carefully folded it and placed it on the chair with his coat. When I turned around I could see that he hadn't moved at all. His eyes had grown larger and so had the lump in his trousers. He just stood there as I busied myself undoing his tie. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him with an open mouth that invited his tounge. When I started on his belt buckle he began to help by unbuttoning his shirt. When I finished with his belt, I undid the top bottom of his fly and ran the zipper down. With a quick motion, I pulled down his pants and his jockey shorts.

I was on my knees, facing the biggest cock I had ever seen. It was as big around as my wrist and at least 10 inches long. It was so big that even fully erect it couldn't support itself and was hanging at a 45 degree angle. I was completely overwhelmed by its presence. It took me a minute or two before I re-gained my senses, cupped it in my hands and gave it a kiss on the helmet. I tried to put it in my mouth but the best I could do was to get the head and just a little of the shaft.

Although he was basically nude he still had his shoes and socks on and was standing in his trousers and underclothes. Putting his hands on my shoulders, he raised me to a standing position, turned me around and began to remove my bra. I removed my panties as he stepped out of his trousers and removed his shoes and socks.

He lay on the bed and asked me to sit on his face, looking towards the head of the bed, away from his cock. He had a magic tongue and he used it like a magician, swirling, probing, licking and plunging. With one hand he was massaging my breasts and tweaking my nipples. Although I couldn't see it, I knew that the other hand was doing the same to his cock.

As good as his tongue felt, I began to wonder if I was going to be able to take him inside of me. He must have guessed my thoughts for he said "don't worry, we'll take it slow and easy and see what happens."

Reluctantly, I slid off his face and backwards down his chest until I encountered the object of my concern. I raised my bottom up until my pussy was poised directly over it with the head just between my lips. My juice mixed with his pre-come created a lubricant the gave us the ability to accomplish this killer task. Slowly, inch by inch, with me twisting back and forth it slid deep into my pussy. It must have taken three or four minutes for me to get it all inside but I did. Now that it was there, I was almost afraid to move but slowly I raised a little and then sat back down. It felt pretty good, so I tried it again. Then again and again and again. I was now bucking up-and-down with wild abandon. When he came, I thought he would shoot me off like a rocket, his semen was so copious. I followed him only seconds later and tried to collapse onto his chest but was held almost in-place by his cock.

It finally wilted and I dismounted. It still looked massive lying there soft. I couldn't help myself, I took it in my mouth, all of it, and savored the sweet flavor of his cum and my pussy juice.

"You know, there are very few women who can take me. Thank you very much"

"Thank you hell, you owe me 250 bucks buster!"



Stockings



It is warm spring day, the sun is shining and the birds are singing. You are walking home from work, an hour earlier than expected, as the electricity has gone off in that area of town. As you are walking you notice a tall woman ahead of you. At first you are uncertain what drew your eyes to her, but gradually you notice more and more about her.

She is tall; her long, shiny red hair is worn loose, and is swaying as she walks. Her walk is hip swayingly good, as her movements are graceful and sexy. Looking down you see her black high heels, which are helping her with that sexy walk. Her legs are black, nylon clad, and your mind screams stockings. She must be wearing stockings on those long and shapely legs.

As you watch her back, you realise that her coat is quite short, and her skirt must be even shorter, as you cannot see any of it beneath the coat. Suddenly, she stops and bends, to remove a shoe... as she leans forward, you are treated to a view of those long, stocking clad legs and the darker stocking tops, and a tiny glimpse of white flesh, before she shakes then replaces her shoe and stands up straight again.

Your body reacts to this teasing glimpse of flesh and those stockings, as you imagine those long legs wrapped around you. You imagine driving your cock into her pussy as she wraps her stocking clad legs around you. Oh boy, you think you need some sex, this woman has turned you on so badly.

As you watch her legs, and hair and back, you follow behind her, suddenly aware that you have wandered off your route home. Just as you stop to take bearings, you see her stop too. Then suddenly she is walking towards you. The street you are on is small and deserted apart from the two of you. Her face is pretty and her mouth is smiling as she approaches you and asks you the way to a nearby hotel. She isn't a local, you can tell by her accent, and as she gets even closer you smell her sweet perfume and another subtle scent.

As she gets up close you realise that her coat is open at the neck, and you can see a lot of cleavage and no hint of a top beneath the coat, and likewise the bottom of the coat is open slightly and you can still see no skirt.

She waits as you describe where to go, but she smiles again and shakes her head. She apologises and says she will never remember the directions, please could you show her. She says please again and looks at you with big eyes and a genuine smile. You can't refuse.

As you set off towards the hotel, she asks you about yourself, and tells you she is here on holiday. She was with friends but one got ill and had to go home, and the other has met a man, so she is left by herself most of the time. When you get to the hotel, she invites you to the bar for a drink, to say thank you. How can you refuse her?

Once in the bar, she gets you both a drink, and as she sits down, you see a lot of leg, a tiny bit of flesh and still no skirt. She catches you looking, and she laughs, she undoes her coat really quickly and flashes at you (her coat open for only a few seconds). She is wearing an outfit that is sexy and revealing, yet covers everything. She explains she was going to a party with her friend, then her friend rang and said she was making her own way there, and gave her directions. She was told it was a fancy dress party and to come as a tart. As she was on holiday she had no dressing up clothes, so she had rushed out and bought this outfit, but then got lost and decided to come back to the hotel.

You hear her words but hardly take them in, as she has revealed a good figure, pale skin, full hips and breasts, covered in a black and red corset, panties, and stockings and suspenders. Your eyes are on the front of the now closed coat.

She coughs, and you look at her face, slightly embarrassed at being caught staring at her breasts.

She laughs again. She says that the day has been awful apart from you, and leans closer to you, whispering that the outfit is sexy, and it seems a shame not to let someone get the benefit of it. You realise she means you!!! She smiles at your shocked face and whispers room 237, as she stands and walks away from you........

You sit staring at her back, and it is only when she has disappeared from sight that you really take in what she has invited you to her room. That the fantasy of burying yourself deep inside her, as she wraps those long legs around you could actually become a reality. Uncertain you go to the bar and get another drink, should you follow, should you play it cool or should you walk away now?

A very quick drink later you are on your way up the stairs to room 237.

You approach the door eagerly and knock. She opens the door and she is still wearing the coat. She smiles at you and opens the door to let you in.

The room is nice but nothing special. It is tidy, but there are some clothes folded on the chair. She takes your jacket and hangs it up by the door, then removes her own coat and hangs that up too. You have a few moments to study the back of the outfit, and her arse in those skimpy panties. You are still staring when she turns around to face you. She grins at you, and asks if you would like a drink. You say yes, but really you are thinking no, you just want to touch and taste her. 

She turns away and opens the mini bar, as she bends to take out two beers, you know you made the right decision, you have a perfect view of her arse again, but this time she is bending forward. You see the black silky panties stretch tight across her rounded arse cheeks, and as she leans further forward you get to see the thin piece of material that is just covering her most private place. Even across the room, you are certain that her panties are damp, and you catch the subtle aroma from earlier, again, her arousal. The very thought of her damp pussy makes your cock hard.

She straightens and turns towards you, as your erection becomes uncomfortable. She hands you a beer, and suggests sitting on the bed. You notice her eyes are on your cock as it sticks out, as far as your trousers will allow. She puts her own bottle down, and say "That must be uncomfortable, let me help you." as she reaches down and caresses your erection through your trousers. Then she brings her hands to your button and zip, and undoes your trousers, smiling at you as she reaches in and brings your cock out into the open. "That must feel better." she says as she wraps her fingers around you and starts to move then up and down.

She gets you to sit on the bed, and she kneels between your legs, and flicking her hair, away from her face, she brings her lips to your cock. She kisses and licks it gently, before sucking it into her warm, wet mouth. She continues to use her hands to caress and stroke your balls, as she moves her mouth up and down your hard cock. You are enjoying her mouth, but part of your brain wants to fuck her, and doesn't want to cum here and now. So, in a moment of feeling masterful you gently push her shoulders back slightly, and remove your cock from her mouth. She looks up at you with a slightly surprised look on her face. 

"My turn" you say smiling, and you position her so she is sat on the bed, and kneel between her legs. You run your hand over her panty covered pussy, and realise that she is smooth; she has shaved off all her pussy hair. You feel the heat, and touch the dampness, as she moans at the feel of your hand rubbing her. You side your fingers inside the material and rub the smooth wet flesh, before sliding one between the folds of skin and touching the real wetness. She gasps slightly as your fingers get close, and moans loudly, as you slide one finger inside her wet pussy. You slide that finger in and out a few times, quite slowly, and then run it up between her lips, to touch her pleasure centre, you are rewarded with a squeak of satisfaction. Leaning forward you hold the material to one side with your fingers and run your tongue from pussy to clit. As she squirms and moans in joy.

She is obviously enjoying your tongue, as you run it from pussy to clit a few more times, before concentrating on her clit. She is gasping and moaning as you flick her button with your tongue. She whispers something you don't catch, and then she repeats it slightly louder. 

"Please let me do the same for you," Your cock jumps at her words, and you both move into the middle of the bed and get your selves into position, quickly. You take the opportunity as you move, to remove her panties, and she helps you. You get to see her smooth pussy in all its glory, while she is still wearing a corset and those sexy stockings. 

As you get into position, it is like some signal tells you both when to start, as you lick her clit in a short flicking motion, as she sucks your cock into her mouth. You both gasp in pleasure, as the mutual oral stimulation starts for real.

You find it hard to concentrate on licking her wet pussy, as she sucks and licks your hard cock. It is like your brain keeps switching from the task, to the pleasure and then back again. She moans, as she sucks you deep inside her mouth and throat, and raises her hips to meet your mouth. You push out your tongue and slip it into her wet cunt. You slide your tongue in and out of her, as she encases your cock in hot wet flesh.

The stimulation lasts for a while, and it is intense, but at the back of your mind, you keep thinking about fucking her. You move your mouth and position your tongue over her hard clit. Once there, you lash it with your tongue, short, fast strokes, flicking her clit. She writhes in pleasure as you speed up. She is moaning, and wriggling, as your mouth is surrounding her clit, and she sucks you faster, deeper and harder too.

Suddenly, her mouth is gone from your cock, and you feel her hands against your face, gently pulling you away from her pussy.

You look at her in surprise, you were sure that you were about to make her cum. She is panting, and that makes her breasts swell and drop quite dramatically. She looks at you as says, "I want you inside me. I want to cum as you fuck me, please; will you do this for me?"

You want to shout yes, but manage to keep your cool, as you smile at her and nod.

She kneels on the bed, facing away from you and then drops to all fours. She spreads her knees and you are looking at a view of her arse and her pussy. She wiggles her arse at you, and you see the folds of her lips are glistening and wet. You can't resist this obvious invitation. You take hold of your cock, and as you kneel behind her, you place the tip against her wet opening. You rub the tip of your cock against her wetness, before slowly, steadily easing yourself in. You push until you have all of your cock inside her pussy, every inch surrounded by her hot, wet cunt. 

She squeezes you with her pussy muscles, and you pull back so you can thrust back inside. You do this a couple of times slowly withdrawing and then thrusting back inside. You feel your own pleasure and pressure building. You start to thrust faster, harder, deeper, your balls slapping against her clit as you really get a hard rhythm going. She is pushing back to meet each of your thrusts, and is moaning and panting, as you fuck her.

In your mind you always had an image of her legs wrapped around you, so you decide to go for the prize. You pull all the way out of her tight pussy and placing your hands on her hips you turn her over. She turns willingly, and lies on the bed, legs spread, looking up at you with desire all over her face. You look down at her corseted body and those long stocking clad legs and you shiver in delight. 

You bring her knees up, so you have an even better view of that wonderful, smooth, wet cunt, and then you lower your rock hard erection into her. She lifts her legs even higher, and puts her feet onto your shoulders, as you thrust hard and deep. Filling her soft, warm, wetness with your smooth hardness, again and again and again. Fucking her with everything you have. She is gasping for breath, and grinning up at you, you slide your hands up those stocking clad legs, as you feel her move them around your waist, and wrap her ankles together behind your back. She is making soft encouraging sounds, as you feel the pressure building. Then suddenly, she is shouting out, and thrashing about, as she cums. Her cunt is full of hot juices, and is tightening and relaxing over and over; it feels like it is grabbing your cock, milking you. You feel your pleasure explode and you thrust in deep and hard, over and over, as you shoot your cum deep inside her.

As you stop cumming, and finally stop thrusting, she grabs hold of you and pulls you down on top of her. She wraps her arms around you, and her legs tighter, holding your slowly softening cock inside her. She whispers how she loves the feel of your cock inside her and doesn't want you to remove it. Then as you roll onto your sides and lay enfolded in each other's arms, you feel it slowly slip out of her.

She kisses you tenderly, and thanks you for this wonderful gift you have given her, as she relaxes in your arms and slowly falls asleep.

You drift off to sleep too. You awake with a start, where are you? You look around at the hotel room, and realise that it is empty. You jump up feeling like an idiot, she played you and has left you to pay for the hotel. Then you see the note on the pillow.

You open the large folded sheet of paper and something dark falls to the bed, as you read. "Thank you again, for fulfilling a fantasy of mine. The room is paid for until the morning, so you can sleep there all night if you want."

Looking down on the bed you see a neatly folded pair of stockings laying there and you smile.



Stockings



I lay on the bed waiting for you to come out of the shower. My imagination is running rampant. It was your idea to try something different. As I lay on the bed with just a towel around my waist I can feel my cock harden.

You emerge from the ensuite drying your hair with a towel. My cock begins to throb. I can feel it pressing against the towel.

You stand in front of the mirror and brush your hair. I catch you looking at me in the mirror and you smile. You are enjoying the fact that you know what is in store for tonight and that I don't know. You are also enjoying keeping me waiting knowing how much I want to be touching you, kissing you.

You had made it very clear that tonight was your idea and that I had to be patient.

I slide my hand under the towel and slowly run my finger over the head of my now throbbing cock. I'm beginning to ooze precum as I watch you brush your hair. I can see in the mirror that you are also beginning to become more than a little aroused. Your nipples are now hard. I ache to have them in my mouth. To be sucking them. But I remember I have to be patient.

I watch intently as you slowly put one foot then other into your panties. You bend forward, exaggeratingly so, as you slowly slide your underwear up your legs and over your butt. I feel more precum ooze from my cock.

You sit on the chair, facing me you put on stockings. Slowly. Teasingly slow. You're very much aware of what you are doing to me. Torturing me with lust and desire.

You stand and adjust your underwear. The underwear that I so badly want my face pressed against right now.

Not bothering with a bra, you slip on a light dress. You then sit on the dresser and look at me. With a lustful wink you ask, ' what do you think'? By now it is very obvious what I think. I have thrown the towel off and my hand is wrapped around my shaft and slowly moving back and forth. I stand and walk over to you. We kiss. A sensual, loving kiss at first but it soon evolves into a hungry passionate kiss. I feel your hand wrap around my cock and you stroke it several times before suddenly stopping.

I take a step back and you begin to rub your stockinged foot against my cock and balls. I let out a slight moan. I lean against your foot as you grind it against me. I gently take your foot in my hand and run my tongue along your lower leg. I then close my mouth on each toe, in turn. Gently sucking each one.

You now have your hand inside your underwear. Rubbing. I gently let go of your foot and move in to kiss your mouth once again.

I then move to your neck. Kissing. Licking softly. You lift your dress, exposing your breasts and I quickly close my lips on a nipple. Sucking hungrily. I move to your other nipple. 

I move my body closer to yours. You wrap your legs around my waist and pull me even closer to you. I can feel the heat coming through the material of your panties. 

I grind my cock against them. We are both moaning with desire.

I kiss my way down your body. I pull your underwear aside and begin to lick your warm moist slit. My tongue moving up and down. You lift the dress over your head leaving you wearing just the stockings and underwear. You turn around and bend over. Bracing yourself against the dresser. I crouch behind you and once again move the material of your underwear to the side. Allowing my tongue to touch your soft , warm flesh. I slip my fingers in the waistband and pull them down before once again using my tongue. I bury my face in your arse. Teasing, licking, tonguing.

Wanting to be inside you so much. 

We both stand and kiss again. This time you kiss down my chest. Over my tummy. You squat in front of me and quickly take my now dripping cock in your mouth. Between your lips and hand both milking my shaft, I am soon nearing the point of no return.

You quickly stand and turn, bracing yourself against the dresser once more. I rub the head of my cock over your arse before you reach between your legs and forcefully grab it and guide it to your pussy lips. I lean into you and quickly slip between your velvet lips. Finally we are as one.



Stockings and Heels



Shelia kisses Gavin lightly on the knee cap as she slowly pulls up the second black silky stocking up his long pale leg. Gently she straightens outs the seam along the back of his leg and then levels out the lacy tops around his quivering thigh. Shelia crawls backwards to allow Gavin to stand and take everything in.

Gavin had never done anything like this before, until he met Shelia online. They met due them sharing a love in 'pretty pointy Goth shoes' and gradually he let her know how much he loved the idea of wearing heels and looking sexy in stockings; and she loved the idea too. So this is how he ended near naked apart from pants and a t-shirt with Shelia on her knees in front of him admiring his legs coated in silk.

Shelia had laid out some bits for him to try on, to test the water so to speak. Including the stockings already on; that he couldn't help but caress, there was a suspender belt, and of course some amazing high heels that took his breath away. Seconds later the stocking were clipped to the suspender belt with Shelia grinning madly at the look on his face and his growing bulge. Lastly came the shoes... oh those shoes. Even when Gavin entered the room he felt his cock twitching from just the sight of them. He sat on her bed and allowed her to run her fingers up and down his leg and then she started to put those shoes on his shaking feet. She carefully did up the four straps that nearly reached to his knees so not to snag the thin material on the stockings. Gavin stood up wobbly but could not resist reaching down and touching his legs, starting at the extraordinary heel and stroking up towards his groin. He looked at Shelia as he realised what he was doing and stopped just before he got to where the bulge began. Shelia looked deep in his eyes reassuringly and took his hand in hers and placed them on his hot cock that was begging to be released and played with. Quickly Shelia pushed him so he was sat on the edge of the bed with his legs sprawled out not used to have an extra 5 inches on each foot. Still on her knees she starts down the bottom of his left leg and kisses upwards, slowly and softly enough for Gavin to start to breathe more heavily. As she slowly takes her time pressing her soft lips along the sticky PVC of his killer heels, tasting the plastic, Gavin eyes do not stop staring at her.

Shelia had never dressed up a boy before in women's clothes, even though she had often thought how sexy a man in stockings is. Before Gavin had arrived at hers she dressed herself up especially to please him. Starting off with stocking and suspenders and then some heels, but no where near as good as the ones she had in mind for Gavin. She then gowned her PVC mini dress that showed off her suspenders and breasts beautifully. Made up her face with lots of eyeliner and bright red lipstick and let her hair down. Shelia looked in the mirror and saw a dominatrix staring back. Shocked she wondered if it would be too much for Gavin as she knew it was all new to him too. As she thought this her hands were wondering her body, feeling her curves under the clammy plastic and reaching between her legs, to find no knickers, feeling how wet she was already. This made up the decision to keep the outfit. When Gavin arrived if it wasn't for the commanding yet comforting voice she had put on to try to keep to her worked out plan he would have pounced her, and when he saw those shoes he was putty in Shelia's hands.

Gavin fed up of being teased grab Shelia by the hair and pulled her face to his level and kissed her roughly at first allowing his tongue to search her mouth and teeth to bite her lips, then gradually he softened to lips barely touching as Shelia's hands had found there way into the little clothes he had on. Gavin let out a little moan and tilted his head back as Shelia lightly felt his hard cock in the palm of one hand and with the other cradled his balls squeezing ever so slightly. The hand holding his balls grew restless and went back to feeling his ever so soft legs while the other hand continued to jerk off his now oozing with pre-cum cock, getting faster and firmer. Gavin stopped Shelia by pushing her away with one of his glorious heels, as his confidence had grown along with his cock. Shelia looks up at Gavin with her big brown eyes realising the control was shifting. Still sat down Gavin pulled Shelia from her knees and got her to stand in between his legs pushed against his groin so he could feel her curves against him, unzipping her dress a little way he allowed his hands to explore her body, down her spine, over her nipples, between her legs quickly realising she had no knickers on. With this unexpected and pleasurable find Gavin stood up carefully but quickly to tower over Shelia. With a swift motion he had her stood up and bent over the bed and his cock deep inside her tight wet cunt, causing her to scream in pleasure at the forcefulness. Gavin grabbed her hips and thrust deeply into Shelia's soaked pussy making her cum fast and hard without stopping again and again. Loving the feeling of being in heels and feeling his stocking rub against Shelia's ass Gavin felt himself about to explode inside her. As Shelia's cunt exploded in yet another orgasm around his cock he couldn't hold on and fired his load deep inside her causing her to cum yet again.

Slumped on the bed still in drag, Gavin turned to Shelia who was curled up in his arms and said "we should do this again... very soon."



Stockings and Heels in Public



This is a true story. Feel free to comment if you've had similar experiences or fantasies.

*

It was bound to happen. I had dressed for months in secret. Going even further, shaving my legs, chest, genitals and bottom. Hiding my newly acquired heels & stocking from my significant other. I had felt it for months. The drag of the same routine. Dressing, riding a dildo, while watching and admiring my self applied assfucking in a full length mirror. It simply was not enough anymore. I had to have the real thing.

I have been frequenting parks, adult arcades, and adult theaters for years. So, going to one of these establishments would not normally be so nerve racking, but today would be something different. 

I had chosen a woman's stretch turtle neck top that had long sleeves and matched my black lace panties, laced top black stockings and three inch strap heels. Sufficiently shaved and clean. I admired myself in the mirror before setting out. When dressed, no body hair would be visible on my frame and the stretch top hugged my thin, athletic frame, settling just above my panties in the back and front, while suggestively tugging at my hips when I moved. 

I am very tall naturally and heels make me look giant, but even thinner, and I have long, long legs. I am masculine, no way to hide it, but I am very attractive to both sexes and have been able to put together a "look" or two I thought made me look rather fuckable. 

Now, I am still a wreck with cosmetics and the few wigs I have tried out I think look disastrous. In addition, I don't know if I could pull off an hour long drive in drag without having a nervous breakdown. The theater I selected to try today is quite a drive.

So, I settled on wearing blue jeans, socks and shoes so that I could muster the courage to pay the attendant and find my way down into the theater without choking on fear of being mocked or ridiculed while walking in or finding a seat. That way I could look like a normal joe till I felt comfortable revealing my secret.

An hour later I am walking to the door of the theater, hoping my plans and fantasy will play out as I hope. My heart in my throat as I enter and the attendant recognizes me. Though it has probably been over a year, he recognizes me. My good looks, good frame, and a penchant for being rather nasty I guess go a long way towards helping one remember me. Last time I was here he took me in the office and worked my ass quite nicely with a toy while talking very nasty to me. I came a bucket, thanked him and left. 

He asks where I've been, how I've been, etc. We exchange pleasantries. I pay, then head towards the theater. I know he will be close behind. I was counting on it, he as access to the only rooms with privacy in the theater.

I make a loop through the theater, checking out the patrons. Mostly old men, smell like smoke, looking for what I honestly don't know. Then I see him, an older man, maybe ten years my better, in shape, down front. Not attractive but he's got energy I can sense it. I can see by the light of the movie that he has his cock out and is working it. He sees me coming and moves over a seat to allow me room to get into the row he is seated in. I happily oblige. Once seated, I can hear the shuffle of old men as they begin to fill in the row behind us. 

No words are exchanged. I simply reach out and begin stroking his cock for him. An average fellow, he probably went 6-7" with a below average girth. Of great importance though was the fact that he was hard as steel and moving his cock in my fist with great enthusiasm. I rotate to me knees in front of him and take his cock in my mouth. That's when I found out I got lucky. He immediately placed his hands on the back of my head and began trying to get all the way to the back of my throat. Then, things got even better, he got verbal. He started ordering me to suck his cock, take it, eat it. Bingo! The spark I was looking for, he used the word bitch. I can't even remember how he phrased it, probably something like "Eat that dick bitch", it didn't matter. I paused with his dick as far in my mouth as possible, my nose resting on his lower tummy and rolled my head around, forcing his cock to gag me ever so slightly. Then I stood up. I could help but crack a quick smile at my audience. Then it happened. I decided this would be the day.

I pulled by pants down, revealing my stockings and panties. Turned around and pulled my panties to the side and whispered. "Get me wet sweetie, I need your cock." He ate my ass for just over 30 seconds, spitting and wetting it with a vengeance. Then, grabbed me by the hips and pulled me into his lap. His cock just at the entrance to my ass, I began to grind and bounce ever so slightly, teasing and working him into a frenzy. Then, I stood back up, and turned around and pulled my pants up. "Stay right here I whispered, I will be right back." 

I quickly headed up the aisle hoping he would stay put and not waste his nut or energy on another. 

I found the attendant quickly, laid out my offer and plan. If he would allow me to take my new found friend behind closed doors, then I would blow him while he watched us. Must have been an offer he couldn't refuse, so I sprinted to the car retrieving my heels and then found my target just where I left him. I guided him to the room where the attendant said he would be. We all entered and the attendant locked the door behind us.

I began to remove my pants while my lover from the theater alternatively fingered my ass and tried to work his cock in as I bent over to remove my jeans. He was ready to try my ass out indeed. This continued while I put my heels on. 

I took just a moment to look back at him and then at the attendant who was now in front of me with his cock out. A similar length to the patron, but twice the thickness with a huge head that looked like it belonged on a much larger cock. Pausing I savored the moment, then applied some lube to my ass as I was bent over by the man to my rear, then pushed to my knees as I was too tall to allow him access to my ass.

Now on my knees in an unused tile floored restroom in an adult theater I felt the cock line up with my ass as it pushed its way past my bubble cheeks. The hand on the small of my back forced my ass to align with the invading cock as the full weight of the man at my rear buried his cock all the way into my ass.

The man to my front stepped forward and pushed his half hard cock into my face. The huge head filling my whole mouth nicely. I grabbed his pants leg to steady my balance as that man in my rear continued his assault on my now loosening hole. 

Within a few moments my fuckers found a comfort level with the situation and each other. It was so erotic that none of us knew each other, not even a first name. They began to get verbal. Talking about all the things they would do with me, force me to eat cum, open the door and let the theater patrons run a train on my ass, feed their cum. It was wonderful being talked to and treated like such a slut. 

The man in my rear now had a hold of my shoulders and was trying to force as much of his cock in my ass as he could. The slap of his thighs on my ass cheeks, my grunts of pleasure and the filthy talk of both men filled the room. 

The man in fronts cock had finally hardened all the way and I was working my head in a corkscrew motion over that huge bulbous head on his cock. I could tell he wasn't going to last as long as the man in my rear. He watched me work his cock, telling me he was going to shoot his cum all over my face. 

Then, the man in my rear picked up his pace, started really getting worked up over seeing the other mans cock repeatedly enter and exit my lips. He began to call me his slut, and tell me he was going to cum in my ass, make it his. So I took a pause from my cock sucking to look back, and tell him if he wasn't clean to please cum on my back. A true sincerity came over his face and he paused and said he was clean, apologized for not wrapping up, and said it all just happened so fast. I told him no problem as I am clean to and get tested regularly. 

This momentary damper worked to my advantage as it took both men a few minutes to reach their previous state of excitement. So, I enjoyed being on my knees for another 10 minutes feeling two cocks use my mouth and ass, feeling the tension build in both men. Finally, the many at my rear forced me nearly to my tummy on the cold floor. Temporarily separating me from the cock in my mouth. My cheek resting against the cold tile, he pushed forward with all that he had, forcing his cock, willing it to open me up to him. He was seeding my ass, making it his for a glorious moment. I felt me ass wet with his cum, then he pulled out quickly, causing my ass to gape and the cum to run down my balls and thigh, dripping on the floor between my legs.

I had little time to savor that wonderful slutty feeling of being used anally. He pulled me up and the man to my front quickly placed his cock in my mouth getting it wet, then pulling out so that just the head was inside my lips he began jacking off talking nasty to me. Meanwhile the many from my rear began fingering my ass while rubbing his cock on my face.

This was too much for the attendant, he began coming. To my enjoyment it was quite a bit; his jerking sent some in my mouth while other squirts landed on my face and chin.

My face now a mess of cum, ass juice from the cock in my rear and salvia. I took a finger and wiped the mess of my cheek and purposely look up at both men and I sucked it into my face. 

I had not come yet, the attendant quickly left as he had been away from his ticket booth for probably over 20 minutes. 

I asked the patron to continue fingering my ass so I could cum. He turned me 180 degrees and showed me the cum that had run out of my ass. I sizable clear pool of lube and cum was puddled on the green tile floor.

He pushed my heads towards hit and told me to lick it. I was compelled more by the furious fingering my ass was receiving, as I believe he had worked three fingers in my ass and they were considerably wider than his cock. 

Licking the puddle ever so timidly I found the last shreds of my dominant side give way, and slut in me begins to relax. I allowed him to push my head down so that my chin and cheek rested in the puddle, my body rocked by the furious fingers in my ass. I jerked my cock, my face flushed with lust and exertion I finally added my own puddle to that green tile floor.

I stood almost immediately. Suddenly uncomfortable, I wiped my face, redressed and virtually fled to my car. 

Soon the courage, or lust will return and I will find a new adventure waiting.



Stockings and High Heels Sluts



Stockings and High Heels Make'th the Slut: Part 1

Sophie and Shelly sat side by side in front of the mirror applying their makeup. The sisters had a habit of sharing everything.

The months of practice they had undertaken was about to pay off. They had always loved anal sex, but had now taken it to new extremes. Both sisters could now take a full fist up inside their rear passage. The sheer pleasure of an anal fisting made them cum profusely and of course it meant that any size cock could be accommodated, or indeed multiple cocks. 

At the culmination of their training each sister had fisted the other, (numerous times) and it took very little additional work on their clits to make them cum with shuddering orgasms.

They really enjoyed anal sex. In fact they just really enjoyed sex, the more extreme the better.

The girls had eaten lightly this day and had taken multiple enemas before showering; their anus' now clean as a whistle and perfect for the reaming they expected to get at the party a little later.

The girls had also been working on their leg muscles and feet. With special stretching exercises to enhance their foot shape and in conjunction with calf and thigh muscle stretching, the sisters were able to wear 6 inch stilettos with wild abandonment. A feat not easily achieved by most women, but they both knew how especially sexy they looked, particularly when worn with stockings. To Sophie and Shelly the look was everything.

The girls continued with their makeup.

Black eye shadow was applied to upper and lower lids and carefully blended to give them that really slutty 'Smokey eyes' look. The whites of their eyes finally framed with the false eye-lashes they added, as well as the coats of mascara. 

The final finishes were applied. 

Blusher to their cheeks and multiple coats of cherry red lipstick, finished off with super stay on lip gloss. 

Whilst there wasn't anything wrong with a lipstick ring around a cock, they just wanted to look sexy for longer than the first cock sucking. They applied their perfume liberally to the usual places; the heady smell of opium was intoxicating.

They looked at themselves in the dresser mirror and at their perfect slut make-up. They licked their lips and adjusted their blond hair. Shelly's, being shorter and straighter and in a kind of bob. Sophie's, longer and with the kind of twisting curls that gave it a slightly wild look. 

Time to dress.

Shelly had chosen to wear corsetry. It wasn't that she needed to pull-in her size 8 body; she just wanted to have that perfect hour glass figure. Plus she liked the constricted feel that you have from wearing a true corset. 

Sophie helped her with the lacing at the back of the black leather corset, pulling her tight and tying off the lace's around the front.

She then adjusted the cups, pulling the straps up tight so that the ¼ cups raised Shelly's perfect breasts into the perfect cleavage and left her nipples protruding nicely. Sophie couldn't help giving her sisters' nipples a tweak in an effort to stiffen them up.

They had purchased from the internet, 50s style, fully fashioned black seamed stockings and whilst this was more costly, it provided the perfect slutty look that would assure the utmost attention. What's money when you want to look sexy?

The six suspenders of Shelly's corset swung freely whilst she pulled on her black seamed stockings. She rolled the sheer nylons up her legs and eventually attached each of the suspenders in turn, sliding the small rubber pieces into there corresponding receptors. Not always easy with nails. She tightened the suspenders pulling the stockings up tight.

Sophie straightened Shelly's seams for her. She couldn't resist running her hands up and down the nylon material, past her sisters stocking tops, up to the bear flesh and then back again, alternating across both legs. Both girls knew how incredible sexy this felt; both girls felt incredibly horny, their cunts beginning to juice up with excitement. Sophie really wanted to plunge her fingers into Shelly's cunt but she managed to desist from masturbating her younger sibling. 

It was Sophie's turn to get into her underwear. She had chosen a black lace ¼ cup bra and a matching suspender belt (also with 6 suspenders). This was easier to put on, but Shelly insisted on helping her sister tighten the cup-straps, hence making sure Sophie's tits had the perfect shape and ensuring that her nipples stood out proudly. She cupped both of Sophie's breasts in her hands, gently manipulating them and sucking hard on each nipple in turn. This really did bring them up nicely.

As she sucked she looked up into Sophie's eyes with that 'I want to fuck you' look. Sophie sighed.

As an added twist they decided to apply lipstick to their nipples, using the super stay on lip gloss to keep the colour on longer. This not only made them look great and more suck-able, it also helped to stiffen them and make them stand out. 

Sophie pulled on her black seamed stockings, attached the suspenders, pulling them tight and the girls straightened the seams and smoothed out the sheer nylon material. Shelly wanted to return the favour of feeling Sophie's stockinged legs, but Sophie was already far too horny to have any more stimulation.

Panties or no panties, that was the question?

As a compromise both decided to wear a thong, Shelly a black leather type material and Sophie a black lace pair. They stepped into their respective garments and pulled them up past their stockings and suspenders and on up to cover their fully waxed cunts. The thongs separated their arse cheeks nicely and the material rode up into their rosebuds, again heightening their horniness. 

Sophie put on her tight red leather mini-skirt. This covered her stocking tops, but only just. Any real movement would certainly be revealing. The skirt had a large zip at the front which ran the entire length of the skirt (up & down). This meant it could be removed quickly or could be adjusted to give a revealing split. The tightness of the skirt also meant that the bulge of her suspenders showed through the thin shiny red leather material. 

But she knew what she was doing.

Skirt in place she put on her black low cut blouse. This had short loose fit arms and was made of a fine semi-transparent material. The top showed off her lacy ¼ cup bra and perfectly formed breasts superbly. The effect enhanced with a great cleavage and the display of her red nipples pushing up and out through the flimsy material. 

She joined the skirt and blouse together using a broad elasticated black belt that had a series of press studs at the front (so as to attach the two ends together). This added to her already superb figure.

Shelly got into her black lace mini dress. It had ¾ arms and hung from her shoulders. The skirt section flared out with a large amount of material so it would swirl when she twisted. Like her sister it just covered her stocking tops (except when bending over). The upper lace section of the dress was semi-transparent and had a plunging neck line. Again you could clearly see her tits through the transparent material. Shelly's nipples, like Sophie's, also stood out, aided by her ¼ cup bra

Their hands ran down the material of their outfits in a kind of smoothing action. They knew how incredibly sexy and slutty they were looking.

Time to put on shoes.

Shelly slipped on her shiny 6 inch, black patent pumps and stood erect, almost standing on tip toe, her calf muscles straining. The shoes, however, gave the perfect shape to her legs, arse, and breasts. She walked around confidently, the six inch heels click clacking on the hard floor. 

Sophie put on her 6 ½ inch, red patent, high heeled shoes and stood up. Her arch wildly exaggerated in the very high heels, which only the trained could confidently wear. The tightness of the skirt slightly restricted her movement, but she walked with that sexy wiggle only very high heels and a tight skirt can give you. 

She joked "Do I look fat in this?" knowing the answer.

"No, just really horny." replied her sister in her middle class English accent.

They both stood in front of the full length mirror.

"Nearly finished, now for the final touches." said Shelly, "black lace gloves."

Sophie's had little cut down lace fingers and the flared arm of the gloves went just beyond her wrists. Shelly's lace gloves were shorter and had no fingers, the front part of the glove ending at her knuckles. Both admired the gloves and the long red finger nails they displayed.

Standing in front of the mirror again, they reviewed themselves. From their trounced blond hair, their sluttish black eye makeup and cherry red lips. To their gorgeously shaped tanned bodies, their clothes displaying their ample 36' size C breasts and pert nipples, their skirts showing off their stockinged legs. They turned to look at their seams and 6 inch plus high heels. They looked so tall and their legs looked so great. They were both of model stature.

"We've forgotten the bling." said Sophie. 

They each raided their jewelry box, attaching multiple short gold coloured necklaces around their necks, with gold coloured braclets , a bangle and gold ear rings to match. They applied more perfume for good measure.

"God we look like sluts." said Shelly.

"We are going to get SO fucked." replied Sophie.

"Every hole." retorted Shelly.

9:30pm; The Girls picked up their bags and as they walked to the door they began to sing.

Shelly: "I'm in the mood for cum."

Sophie: "Simply because I love it."

----------------------------------------------

They went outside to meet the waiting stretch limo. The driver was soon sporting a huge hard on as he noticed their short skirts, stockings, ultra high heels and nipples clearly on display. He awkwardly opened the door for them. Shelly stopped as she noticed the large bulge in his trousers.

"Now we can't have you driving us with that big hard on can we, you'll be distracted."

"But then we can't have you messing up our clothes and make up before we get to the party." said Sophie. 

"How about we wank you off." said Shelly.

Slightly surprised by this remark given there accents, but not surprised given there outfits, he quickly replied, "That's fine by me." 

He lent back against the car, slightly spreading his legs, but before he could do it himself, they undid the zip and belt on his trousers and removed his large erect cock. The trousers fell to the floor; his pants were pulled away under his balls. They so wanted to suck it, or fuck it and it was only extreme discipline that held them back. They were not sure how long they could keep this up for, such was their desire.

"Wank it Shel!" said an already turned on Sophie, "Just wank it hard."

He watched intently as Shelly's lacy gloved hand was wrapped around his cock and she began to wank. The blink jangled as her hand moved up and down over the big cock.

Sophie bent over and used her long red nails to gentle claw at his balls, quickly changing to cupping them in her lacy hand, fully knowing the slightly rough material would have the required effect on him. 

Her skirt pulled tight; the suspenders bulged more; the skirt rode up to reveal her stocking tops.

Shelly's skirt swished to the beat of her wanking causing more stockings to be on display. The bling continued to jangle to the same rhythm. 

Getting even hornier they both began to engage in more obscenities.

"Come on, shoot that fucking cum." Shelly encouraged.

Sophie took off her red patent 6 ½ inch stiletto and began wrapping the heel around his cock and then back around to gentle probe his balls 

Sophie was getting worked up as she maneuvered the heel around his thick dick. 

See looked determinedly straight at him with her over made up eyes and from the look on his face she could read his mind.

"You love high heels don't you? You really love them." It was a rhetorical question.

"Shoot that fucking cum into my shoe, I need to taste it." She added

Shelly joined in, the expletives a result of how turned on they were

"Cum you fucker, give us that sperm."

It took about a minute as Shelly directed large wads of shooting spunk into Sophie's red stiletto shoe. Once he stopped cumming Shelly bent down, lovingly licking the final drops off his cock, taking care not to damage her make up.

"So how are we going to get the cum into our mouths without ruining our makeup." said Sophie, who hadn't thought it through previously

"I have some straws." said the driver

Both sisters began sucking the sperm from Sophie's shoe, using the straws provided by the driver and delighting in the taste. 

Of course the sight of two horny dressed girls sucking up sperm through straws from an ultra high heeled shoe was enough to make the driver hard again.

"Your turn Sophie." said Shelly nonchalantly, the sperm now consumed.

After putting her high heel back on, Sophie took off her lace glove and wrapped her hand around the now fully hardened cock. Pulling the foreskin fully back, she spat on the end and began to wank, her bracelets jangling to the rhythm she set. She wrapped her other hand, still gloved, around the back end of his cock and balls

"We are going to get so fucked tonight." Sophie said to the driver, knowing how much it would turn him on and consequently make him shoot quicker.

"I know you would love to watch us taking sperm all over our faces and over our high heels and stockings." 

Shelly chipped in. "I'm going to take as much cum up my arse as Sophie can lick out."

"And I love licking cum out of my sisters arse." Sophie replied.

Shelly lifted her skirt, displaying her stockings and high heels to the driver. She moved her thong to one side to reveal her anal rosebud and dripping cunt, really wanting to stick her fingers right into her own cunt and rectum. She gyrated and fondled herself, moving her lacy hands across her breasts, cupping them, then moving them down to feel her stockings. She looked him in the eye.

"Cum you fucking bastead, shoot that spunk." 

Sophie rubbed harder, the bling jangled faster.

"I so love high heels and stockings." the driver said watching the action provided. Shelly, still posing in her 6 inch heels, continued feeling her own breasts, twisting her nipples through the lacy material. This and the heady aroma of the girls perfume added to his excitement and was becoming too much to bear.

"Let me cum over your high heels!" He exclaimed

"Not this time big boy." said Shelly

He came anyway, Sophie still rubbing hard, directing his cock away from her clothes. He shot more big wads of sperm, this time going all over his trousers. Not that he cared much at this point

"Well that was a waste of good spunk, wasn't it." Said Sophie

"But at least he can get us to the party now." said Shelly

The driver thanked them, putting his now deflated cock back into his pants and pulling up his trousers. The girls got into the back of the limo and the car drove off. The driver satisfied, yet wanting more.

"Can I fuck you two later?" he asked hopefully

"We'll see." said the girls with a brush off comment.