5 comments/ 53448 views/ 4 favorites Lingerie Lover By: Nomansland69 This is a true story. It happened a few years ago. I was Christmas shopping in the local mall, where I passed a lingerie shop. I entered the shop and began to browse at all of the lovely lacey underwear. "Can I help you there?" a voice sounded from behind me, "No thanks I'm just looking", I said, "I'll be around if you want any help, my name is Hannah", she said as she left, leaving me to gaze enraptured at the lacy underwear, and the elegant silks and satins of the different designs. Almost at once I began to experience the familiar tingling sensation that starts with my nipples and travels down to my pussy. I was getting turned on just looking at all of this sexy underwear, imagining how it would feel against me skin. I've got a bit of a thing when it comes to lingerie. I love all sorts, from skimpy G-strings to lacy bras, and when I'm home alone, I often strip down to my underwear. I especially like panties, which can be pulled tight into my pussy, creating a delicious, tingling friction, which soon has my love juices flowing. I grabbed a couple of bras and headed for the changing rooms. I went into one of the rooms, and closed the curtain behind me; I unbuttoned my blouse and took it off. "Are you ok in the madam?" a voice sounded, "Yes thank you, I'm fine!" I said. I unclipped my bra, letting my firm boobs fall free; I picked one of the new bras and tried it on. I tried to hook it up, but it didn't seem to fit. I called out to Hannah and she came to the booth. "Yes, what can I do for you madam?" she said with a smile, "This bra is a bit small for me, I was wondering if you could get me the next size please?" I said, with my head poking out of the curtain, "Certiainly!" she said and left to find the right one for me to try on. She returned and handed me the bra through the curtain. "Thank you", I said trying it on straight away, "Oh my, this one is a bit tight too", I replied from behind the curtain. "Excuse me madam," Hannah said, "Yes", I said, "I was just wondering, when the last time you had a bra fitting?" She asked me. "Don't know, I don't think I've ever had a fitting!", I said to her, "Would you like a fitting?" she asked me, "Can I come in?" she asked me, "Yes, you can Hannah", I said, and then she pushed back the curtain and she came into the small cubicle with me. "Now, what size do you take?" "I'm not sure," I replied, "Well, let's measure you and see where were at," Hannah replied smoothly while pulling a cloth tape measure from her pocket. I unclipped the new bra, letting my firm boobs free again, and I could have sworn I heard a sharp intake of breath from Hannah as my tits came into full view. I stood there for a moment, uncertain. Was it just my imagination, or was Hannah getting as turned on as me? Then Hannah's eyes met mine. Momentarily flustered, Hannah's hands shook slightly but she managed to slip the tape around my chest where upon she said aloud, "Thirty four inches on the bust!" Hannah intoned, "is that about what you'd figured?" "Mmmmmm, pretty close," I replied while looking at my profile in the mirror. "Do you think my boobs are too big?" I asked while jutting my chest out. "Ma'am, I really don't know," Hannah replied awkwardly, "they look just fine to me." "Can I get the matching brief too please?" I asked her. She left the cubicle all red faced to go and get the right bra and underwear for me. I slid off my skirt leaving me in only my panties and garter belt, which I started to unclip as Hannah returned, and she looked at me. "Please don't take this the wrong way but, WOW! you have a fantastic body!" she said to, flashing me a teasing smile. I've never been shy about my body, but I guess Hannah had caught me off guard, being business-like one minute and frankly flirtatious the next. Lowering my eyes and trying to calm down. I could have sworn I heard another sharp intake of breath from Hannah as my tits came into full view. I stood there for a moment, uncertain. Was it just my imagination, or was Hannah getting as turned on as me? Then I hooked my fingers into the sides of my panties, and slowly pulled them down. Hannah's eyes met mine. "It seems a shame to cover up that wonderful body at all," she murmured, "But I think these will suit you." And with that she held out a pair of flimsy red silk panties with a matching bra and camisole. I've always loved the tantalizing sensation of pure silk against my skin, and with Hannah's eyes following my every move, I really had to struggle to keep control when the cool fabric brushed against my pussy. I could feel myself getting really wet and it was getting pretty difficult to resist the temptation to slip my fingers into the crotch of the panties and rub my aching clit. "That looks great," Hannah said softly, snapping me out of my reverie. "Now how about these?" And she held out the sexy bra and matching camisole. I could hardly wait to get into them, but I was getting so excited I seemed to have lost control of my fingers. Hard as I tried, I just couldn't do up the hooks which ran all the way down the front of the bra. Hannah giggled, saying, "You look like you need a hand," as she moved close to me. Her perfume was sweet and alluring, and I could feel her warmth as her sure fingers carefully fastened the hooks for me. When the bra was done up, Hannah's hands lingered against my boobs. There was a real air of expectation building up between us; I knew something was going to happen, but I was getting so nervous waiting for it, so I decided I had to make the first move. Gently I took Hannah's hand and pressed it more firmly against me, so she could feel my hardening nipples poking through the thin fabric. I let out an involuntary gasp as her fingers began to rub my nipple. I grabbed Hannah's other hand and ran it down my body to my pussy, keeping my own hand clasped on top of it. Using the pressure of her hand and mine combined I began to rub and stroke at my cunt through the flimsy panties, feeling my love juice seep through the fabric and dampen my fingers. Hannah's fingers began to move independently of mine, searching and probing around the crotch of the panties as they found their way to my sticky slit. I was wetter than I've ever been in my life; the slow build-up of lust through the whole of the afternoon had gotten me really hot! Hannah's finger slipped up and down my dripping pussy lips then sought my firm clitty and began to rub it harder. By the time the tip of her finger had started to tease the edge of my love tunnel I could feel a climax building up. Without warning, one wet finger slid right up into my cunt, and I felt my pussy walls spasm as I came. Hannah began to finger-fuck me in earnest then, pushing my legs wider apart so she could get three wriggling fingers inside me. I was revelling in the sensations of ecstasy, but Hannah wasn't satisfied. "I want to taste your pussy," she said suddenly, kneeling down in front of me and pulling my panties right off so she had full access to my juicy hole. With gentle fingers she held my pussy lips wide apart as her tongue could reach right inside me. As she lashed at me with her hot tongue, her breath burning my sensitive flesh, I moaned and gasped my way to another incredible climax. Once I'd calmed down a little - which took quite some time, as Hannah didn't let up her pussy licking for a second - I looked down to see that one hand was burrowing between her parted thighs. I couldn't see too much as she was still fully dressed, albeit a little dishevelled, and I decided I couldn't wait a moment longer for a look at her naked cunt. Sinking to the floor beside her, I began to undress her slowly. She just lay back, smiling at me as I stripped her, one hand still playing with her pussy beneath her clothes. The body that came into view was spectacular. Her smooth tits were so beautifully shaped I had to pause for a moment to lick and suck them. Then I eased up her skirt to reveal stocking tops and an expanse of smooth thigh. Higher went the skirt, to show Hannah's lacy panties, pulled aside at the crotch as her fingers pushed in and out of her love box. Her fingers were shiny with juice, and her breathing was getting heavier. I worked her skirt right up around her waist, pulled off her panties, and watched avidly as she fingered herself to a climax in front of me. Straddling Hannah's body, now gleaming with sweat, I dipped my head to her pussy and took an experimental lick. She tasted so sweet I stuck my tongue right into her without ceremony and began to eat her out enthusiastically, as she repaid the compliment with some more tonguing to my quivering cunt. We were rolling about the floor in our frantic 69 when Hannah let out a loud long moan and began to quiver. I tasted her juices as they coated my mouth. Her sweet taste sent me over the edge and my climax washed over me, joining me with her in cumming. The room was filled with our moans as we worked each other over and down from our peaks. Needless to say I visit Hannah's shop for underwear for me these days. I love her sexy designs -and trying them on always gives us an excuse for another' wild and steamy sex session! Lingerie Lover Every now and then my girlfriend goes beyond the call and proves she really loves me. Let me describe to you what she did for me not so long ago. Basically, she knows I am a fiend for underwear, that I have a fetish for lingerie. Normally she dresses in pretty smart underclothes just to keep me happy. But the other day when I got back from work I discovered her not in the living room or kitchen, preparing the dinner or watching tv as per her usual routine, but up in the bedroom, sprawled out invitingly on the bed. She was lying atop the bedclothes whose surface was completely covered in all of her sexiest underwear! Knickers and bras, teddies and chemises, slips, garters and bustiers of every colour and description were strewn about in an erotic festival of sensuous fabric. Bikini-briefs, tangas, panties and boyshorts, thongs, hiphuggers, v-strings, t-strings and cheekies littered the bedspread. There were low-rise, crotchless and no-shows. There was cotton, spandex and mesh. Lace and silk, crinkles and kinks, everywhere an orgy of the most delicate and tactile materials. Brassieres bedecked the bedclothes: balconettes, push-ups, plunges, strapless, t-shirts and triangles, peek-a-boos and bandeaus. There were baby dolls and merrywidows, cami sets and chemises, a veritable carnival of frills, ruffles, ribbons, and pleats. Every colour and pattern was represented. Soft floral cottons, electric satin hues, love-hearts, polker-dots, pinstripes and pastel shades. There were shiny silk creams against the deepest satin, blood red and midnight black, sugar pink and baby blue. Atop the lot she lay like an Olympian goddess, butt naked, but for the edges of her soft milky figure, which was sporadically overlapped by the plethora of finery upon which her weight was buoyed, plunging slightly beneath the luxurious assortment. And on her pretty face, below the dark sultry eyes with their long lashes, and the deep main of her brown wavy hair, she wore the sweetest of smiles. Her hands were stretched outwards from her body, legs together, with one foot on top of the other and knees ever-so-slightly bent to one side, and her two rosy pink nipples sat up bright and perky on the generous mounds of her bosom, like two single ripe raspberries on dollops of rich whipped cream. Like cream, her skin was pale and smooth, deliciously soft to the touch, but beneath it her flesh was firm and supple, and her curves swept in and out magnificently from her bountiful chest, tapering wildly at the waste, to bend out again round her full hips and ripe buttocks. She looked like a dream. Upon my arrival she smiled at me and rose demurely; first bringing her legs round sideways together and propping herself up on one arm briefly, before dropping them to the floor and standing to take my jacket. She moved behind me and slipped the garment from my shoulders, beckoning me to perch on the bed while she hung it in the wardrobe. Next she approached me directly, but instead of touching as I thought we would, she leant past me to reach from the bed a set of underwear. She chose a cotton number with floral-design, seemingly at random, with demi-cut bra and thick lace trim, and matching low-rise boy-shorts. As she donned these she gazed at me coquettishly, her large green eyes boring into mine, as first she slipped her hands behind her back to fasten her brassiere, then slid each arm in turn under the wide-band lace shoulder straps, jiggling her boobs a little to secure a comfortable fit and stooping to give me close up of her ample cleavage. When her bra was adjusted she bent a little and, stepping neatly one foot after the other, pulled the panties up over her derriere with another provocative wiggle. Then she smiled at me again, a cheeky, adolescent grin, and spun and pulled a pose as if showing me a new outfit. I applauded appreciatively with a quiet clap. Next she moved in front of me and slowly began removing my shirt, unfastening each button deliberately, and leaning into me as she swept it back from my shoulders; I caught the whiff of her delicious perfume. After hanging that, too, in the cupboard, turning away from me as she did so in order that I could appreciate the way the arch of her back sloped upwards daintily beneath her dangling hair, and the snug grasp the soft cotton panties made of her pert round bottom, she then manoeuvred herself betwixt my parted legs and knelt down between them. First she took off my shoes and socks, carefully placing them side-by-side under the bed, and then, still kneeling in front of me, ran her splayed fingers, one hand up each leg, to my belt buckle. This she undid, following it with button and zipper, before sliding my trousers slowly back down my legs and standing to fold them neatly away in the cupboard. By now my penis was positively bursting to be free of my boxer shorts, but they somehow held it fast. Then, in one swift and powerful motion, she tipped me backwards on the bed by the legs, rummaging me into her lingerie and pouncing on top of me with the sudden strike of a predator. Astraddle my waste, she tickled me with various bits of ruffle and frill, toying a pair of silk panties over my face or running a chocolate-lace garter belt enticingly up my chest and down my legs. Slowly, she worked her body backwards down the length of mine, letting her cotton-covered bosom brush the bare skin of my chest as she did so, and removing my boxers on her descent. Before my erection had time to fully spring into gear, however, she had swiftly removed her own underwear and was working them up over my legs. Before I knew what was what, she had me fully encompassed in her tight little knickers (which I perceived now to be wet already from her pleasure), squeezing my penis and balls deliciously and tickling my inner thighs with their elasticated lace trim. My cock strained hard against the restrictive fabric, but in the confines of the material could accomplish nothing but a pulsating semi. Laughing lightly at my predicament, she removed herself from the bed and took off her bra absent-mindedly. Gazing down at the medley of lingerie upon which I was sprawled, she slowly began rummaging through it for an outfit. As she did so she paid my subtle writhing and groaning no heed whatever, but merely nibbled a finger provocatively and pretended I was nowhere around, tossing the odd frilly knickers or ruffle-fronted camisole nonchalantly over me as she rooted about. When she had found something to her liking, she proceeded to treat me to the most spectacular fashion show. Again and again she donned and removed outfit after outfit, dancing round the room a bit in each and eyeing herself in the mirror, running her fingers up and down her naked flesh in tantalising strokes. She bowed and preened coquettishly in front of the wardrobe mirror, first in a fly-away baby doll of deep purple fine-weave gauze, cut beneath the breasts by a glittering diamond-silver band, and matched below the waste by a delicate silver mesh panty in the Brazilian style. Then it was on to a baby pink cami set, the ruffled back of the panties delectably accentuating the curve of her backside, which she herself spent a long time stroking and admiring. The camisole hung luxuriously off her ample lady-humps, providing provocative glimpses of her cute belly as she danced around the room like a teenager. Next it was the full bustier and stockings look, blood red and jet black, and adorned with the manifold lace and frill trim of the Parisian boudoir. Beneath the kinky-crinkle elastic of the black satin garters a tiny g-string cut a delicate floral slice down the pale moon cleft of her derriere, exquisitely framed as it was by the stocking-tops, garters and the hem of the bustier. The penultimate outfit she wore for me was a chocolate-coloured lace crotchless panty and peek-a-boo bra set, with tiny pink and green ribbons looping delicately in and out of the lace trim by way of adornment. With this, she sat on the cushioned stool of her dressing table for a while, closing her eyes and spreading her legs a little, and letting her fingers wonder down to her pussy to frolic there. I watched in intent silence as she gave herself up to her own ministrations; one hand gently tweaking and rolling her nipples where they protruded through the slits in the brassiere, and the other massaging her pussy lips and clitoris. Every now and then she would dip the whole of her middle finger deep inside herself, but the restraint she showed in resisting this too often was admirable; she was clearly enjoying herself. Finally, as if suddenly remembering I was there, she pulled her fingers reluctantly away from herself and grinned at me cheekily. As her stare donned a deeper, sultry focus, she sucked the finger she had been stroking herself with seductively and made her way back towards the bed. When she was right beside me, and still fixing me with that smouldering, enveloping stare, she slowly unclasped the brassiere and let it slip down her body to her feet. Biting her lip naughtily, she then did the same with the panties, wriggling her bottom evocatively to free herself, and causing her bosom to jiggle minutely from side to side, before stepping daintily out of the lacy mocha crumple at her feet. Leaning over my prostrate body, and again letting her now hard-swollen nipples sweep and tickle across my chest, she reached beyond me and pulled on a silky pair of satin, side-tie briefs. They were cream with delicate lace trim and partial overlay, and the ties were wide flouncy ribbons of the same ivory tone. Twirling once for me, she then crawled on the bed and laid down beside me. Over my legs she draped one of her own, and propping her head up with one hand, lying flat on the elbow, with the other she gently stroked her fingers up and down the centre of my chest; repetitively from plenum to naval in long, gentle caresses. Each time she moved a tiny fraction lower towards my pelvis and aching penis, but each time, just as her delightful, manicured fingernail reached the top of the panties I was wearing, she flicked it round again to begin its tantalising wonder up the other way. As you can imagine, by this point I was fit to bursting, but the knickers she had me in held me firmly, still moist from her juices, restraining my member to its semi-flaccid state. This said, the sensation it produced was anything but partial, and the whole of my genitals seemed to throb and pulse with excitement, forever promising to explode in the most vigorous fount of spunk, but miraculously managing to contain themselves in spite of it all. And neither had she not taken note of my condition, for all of a sudden she laid her head down beside mine (I could feel the heavy weight of her breasts on my arm) and cupped a strong little hand securely over my crotch, somehow managing to encompass both cock and balls in her finger's spider-like embrace, and began kneading and squeezing me gently. She kept up a slow but steady rhythm, never mauling too hard, but firm enough that I could feel the soft sensitive skin of my bell-end squash up against the moist velvet crinkle of my ball sack, and my testicles expand and contract in reciprocal reaction to both her pulses and the tidal pressure of juices from within. As she fondled me she began whispering hotly in my ear, goading me. 'You like wearing my panties, don't you?' She giggled, the faintest hint of ridicule mingling with the bespoke pandering courtesy of a thousand-dollar whore. 'You like to think you're such a man, but when the truth comes out you love dressing up in frilly lingerie and having a lady make you cum in your panties.' My penis was positively spasming now, with her hand maintaining the same steady rhythm as before, and me bucking against it in frustration, desperate for her to pick up the pace and relieve me of the beautiful torment. But she carried on whispering sensuously in my ear, 'In fact I bet you'd like nothing more than for me to fuck you from behind with a strap-on, order you to get down on all fours, while I spank your little bottom and shove my hard fake cock up your arse.' With that I erupted into her knickers, the force of the ejaculation spurting the semen out over my ball sack and up the cleft or my backside. Her fingers kept hold of my tightly, and continued their monotonous, hypnotic pumping, as the hot jets of spunk kept coming and coming, coating my genitals in warm sticky jism and soaking the panties clean through. I let out a moan and lolled my head back, closing my eyes to the sensation, as the last shudders of orgasm squeezed out of me. She released me and brought her hand trailing slowly up my body, sliding her sticky fingers persuasively into my mouth. 'Suck on those,' She commanded strictly, 'Suck the spunk from my fingers you dirty little bitch; cumming in my panties you filthy little slut. Just look at you...' Even as she admonished me her voice was turning tender and her tone took on a friendly giggle. Then she kissed me hungrily on the mouth, shoving her tongue into mine and bringing her hand back down to my penis and cupping it again lovingly in her palm, squeezing gently.