I receive an email from you with instructions for the evening. It explains what to wear and what time to be at your house.

I arrive wearing the required black stockings, black and red Basque with matching knickers and a black satin Mac that ties around the waist. The killer healed black stilettos click as I approach the front door which is slightly ajar. You are nowhere to be seen.

I open the door and look into an empty hall. I enter and walk through to the kitchen. There is a note stuck to the cooker that instructs as follows:

‘Go upstairs to the master bedroom and stand in the middle of the room in front of the mirrors. Undo your coat and slip it off your shoulders letting it slide slowly to the floor. Do not under any circumstances close the curtains or the door.’

I walk up the stairs, my legs are trembling slightly. I’m not sure whether it’s with fear or excitement or both. At the top of the stairs there are four closed doors. Just to make sure that the house is empty, I knock and peak around each door before going into your room.

Once inside I slip off my coat as instructed in the note; I stand shivering in front of the mirrors; it wasn’t cold so I can only think that it must be in anticipation. I look around me and notice that on the bed are:

• A blindfold
• A pair of handcuffs
• A ribbon

I examine the room to see if there are any further instructions and I reach for another note that’s pinned to the ensuite bathroom door.

It just says “You know what to do now”.

As I am unable to handcuff myself and I’m really not sure what the ribbon is for; I guess that I am to wear the blindfold and lie on the bed, so that is what I do.

As I lie there for what seems an age, I start to wonder what is going to unfold.

I’m a little nervous but I trust you, don’t I?

I start to fidget and contemplate getting off the bed and leaving but I am compelled to stay; suddenly I can hear what I think are footsteps on the stairs. My trembling increases as I hear the bedroom door closing. A voice says something but it’s muffled so I can’t be certain it’s you. I assume it must be, as no one else knows I’m here.

The voice tells me not to worry, that everything is going to be ok and I will not, under any circumstances, come to any harm. The footsteps come closer to the bed; I hear the handcuffs jingle and the cold mettle is clamped around my left wrist. Then, very gently my arm is pulled above my head; lips blow hot air through the material of my Basque over my left nipple whilst the handcuff is gently locked to the bedpost.

I call your name.

The only response I get is to shush and then a command to open my legs.

I feel stiff and unyielding but the warm soft hands that tug at my knickers are gentle and reassuring as they slide them down my legs.

I start to relax as I let the barriers in my mind dissolve and I hear the rustle of the ribbon. In my minds eye I can picture its silky blackness as it unravels. I feel the cold softness of the material against my skin as the ribbon is first tied around my left ankle and then my right. Suddenly it’s pulled tighter, not so it hurts, but so that it restricts my movement as it’s tied to the bottom of the bed. The anticipation is now making my breathing shallow and fast and I have to concentrate in order to stay calm. My mind is reeling as I realize my vulnerability. My trust in you abounds and I am able to control my erratic emotions.

Soft hands gently caress my legs and as they move towards my pussy a moan involuntarily escapes my lips and my breath is drawn in as I gasp. I feel fingers gently caressing the mound that is my pubic bone and I find myself hoping that they will slide slowly down to my pussy and delve into the wetness that I know is there.

Eventually, the fingers part my lips and I feel the hot wetness of a tongue slide towards the centre of my consciousness, I moan as it licks and flicks the hard button that my clitoris has become. It’s sensitive and almost screams to be sucked. Gently but with authority, the tongue moves down and just as I think it is going to push deeply into my wet hole, it stops and moves back up to suck at the clitoris again.

This feels different. The tongue movements are unfamiliar and in my subconscious I question whether it’s you. At the same time my physical need takes over and I gasp and moan and lift my hips to push myself further into this hot wet tongue that is driving me wild. The sucking and licking continues and hands hold my hips so that I can’t move. I’m confused now as it seems I have hands all over my body, but I’m told that if I move again I will be spanked. I keep still and the licking stops. I cry out,

“What are you doing, I want more! I did as I was told; you can’t do this to me.”

The voice states very matter of factly, that if I wait patiently, I will get what I want.

A realization waves over me; I like being told what to do; so I lie still for what seems an age but in reality is just a couple of minutes.

I can feel the eyes that are appraising my body; I can hear the breath that is coming in short bursts and is building. I also hear what I think is a familiar sound and I imagine that the cock in your hand is hard and standing proud. I dare to say;

“Don’t waste it, give it to me”

The voice replies irritated

“You must wait, be patient”.

I feel the warmth of the body as it leans over me and hands gently part my legs.

Fingers investigate my pussy to see if it is still wet.

“Lovely” the voice announces.

I feel something hard and cold being pressed against my pussy lips. I can’t think what it is and am not sure if it feels good or not. I struggle a little and the hands continue to stroke and caress me reassuringly.

I find this calming and give myself up to the feeling of invasion by the alien object as I start to get used to the cold hardness. I wriggle as this foreign body is then pushed just slightly inside me. I start to get wetter and my breath is coming faster and shallower. The hard cold thing is drawn in and out, not too far, just enough to make me want more. I am internally screaming that I want to be fucked, to be invaded, to open myself and let go of every inhibition. But suddenly I am empty again as the object of my desire is taken away. Soft pliable fingers take its place again and I relax as the waves of pleasure start to build in my lower legs and tingle up to my thighs.

My mind is reeling and now I’m not sure whether I want the cold hard thing or the fingers. The fingers go deeper and deeper still. I start to thrust my hips up. I moan and my head is thrashing from side to side, I strain against the handcuff. I try to put my right hand down to touch myself, but it is slapped away and I am told to be a good girl. The fingers seem to be taking up more space and I realize that the fingers have become a hand.

It starts to hurt. I feel a burning, but somehow it feels good. They slow down, the voice tells me to take a deep breath and relax. I can feel the familiar coldness of lube being used to ease the hand in further. I breathe and relax and the sensation starts to become more enjoyable. I open my legs as far as I can to allow better access and the sensation changes as the hand moves around deep inside me. It’s now the slimmer wrist at the opening of my vagina. There is an explosion of colour behind my eyes and my clitoris feels like it’s going to erupt; the orgasm that now wracks through my body ejects my juices from my body in an almost violent flow.

I relax completely in the aftermath of an orgasmic storm and the hand is eased away. I feel disappointed. I lay abandoned and my breathing returns to its normal rate. Suddenly the fingers come back and are pushed inside me roughly, one inside my pussy the other in my arse. I scream out, but not in pain. I don’t know what’s happening, but I am severely turned on by this feeling. I’m not sure whether I like this but my pussy is saying I do. I start to moan, and push myself into the hand. And once again it slows to a stop.

“No” I shout “please, I want to come again”

I am almost crying with frustration and excitement. The hands restrain me, and I then feel something tickling my skin very gently, I have goose bumps all over me.

My breath is drawn sharply in an involuntary gasp.

Suddenly, the tickling stops, the hands are withdrawn and I am left wondering what is going to happen next.

I hear the door open and close.

I don’t know whether it’s someone coming in or going out.

I feel bereft, I want you – I want you to come back.

I feel stroking on my thigh, a gentle touch; my senses are in overdrive, and my skin is more sensitive than I ever thought possible, I think it feels like a brush of some kind, like a paint brush. It makes my skin prickle, I am so wet I think I must be dripping on the bedcovers, I’m shaking from head to toe and I can’t stop moaning or thrusting my pussy towards the warmth of the body that is by the bed.

Suddenly I feel hot lips kissing my breasts and hands undo the clasps of the Basque. It is taken away and the hands cup my breasts as lips kiss and suck at the nipples which are erect and hard. I moan again. I exclaim,

“I want to feel your hard cock inside me”.

The reply I get elates me

“You will my darling, just be patient sweetheart”.

I now know for definite that it’s you and I lift my free hand to touch your face. You brush it away and tell me not to be naughty.

I hear your zipper and the rustle of clothes as you undress. You lie on the bed next to me and stroke my body with your fingers. I can feel your hard cock straining against my thigh and you tell me to be still. You undo the ribbon at my ankles and demand that I get on my knees. Now I know why only one wrist went in the handcuff!

You turn me around so that my head is towards the mirror; you want to see what happens next. You hold my waist as you thrust your throbbing cock inside me. I gasp and cry out. I push myself back against you as you glide in and out of my soaking wet pussy. I can feel that your bellend is rock hard as it pushes into my mound and I reach underneath me to squeeze your balls as they bang into me. Your thrusts get harder and deeper as we move in unison.

I shudder and scream out as my orgasm surges through my body, my back arches to take every inch of you and my juices are catapulted into your groin soaking your lower body and running down my inner thighs. My head falls exhausted to the bed.

You pull me up by my hair, gently; it doesn’t hurt, just strong and demanding. You lean forward and pull off my blindfold. I look into the mirror and see your face as you erupt and squirt your cum deep inside me. Suddenly I see a shadow near the door. Was it a body or a trick of moonlight through the open curtain?

I look into your eyes questioningly to see if I can see the answer and you smile and say

“My darling you will never know”.

Goldie Longhorne 2009

Shop Girl Fellatrix

From The Fellatrices

In this economy and with the holidays approaching I had to get a second job to buy what I need for Christmas. I ended up getting a job at one of the best stores for the holidays, Macy’s. Normally I wouldn’t be very interested in retail work, but they offered me work in the men’s department. As you can imagine that is heaven for me. I had been working there for about a week when I had one of the best days of my entire adult working life.

A nice looking man came into the department. He was looking for a new suit. I could see that he was a professional and was immaculate when it came to his clothes. I don’t know what it was, but I was attracted to this well dressed handsome man immediately. The tease in me seemed to automatically come out and I began to flirt with him. I wanted to be sure that I was the associate that helped him. I quickly moved to him and asked him how I could help with my best provocative smile on my face. He knew exactly how to toy with me and it turned me on even more. He returned my answer with,
“I was hoping to get out of this old suit and replace it”.
All I did was smile and lead him to a rack of dark blue suits.
“I’m sure you’ll find something to your liking here”, I said.
“I’m sure I will”, he replied smiling at me.
There was something devious about that smile and I recognized it.

I told him to take his time and when he was ready, I would help him with fitting and find some ties and shirts that were appropriate. I walked away and left him to ponder his options. After about 15 minutes he approached me with a suit he liked. As he laid it out I noticed something that I had somehow missed when he first came in. There was a gold band on the ring finger of his left hand. He was married! I don’t know if he noticed that I looked at his hand paused for only a moment and got back into the groove of the situation.

I told him what a good choice he made. We moved to the table of shirts and picked a couple that looked good with the suit. We then moved to the tie table. Ties are one of my favorite pieces of men’s clothing. We looked over several. He decided on some silk ones that added the perfect touch. He asked to be fitted. I went to the register to get my tape measure and lead him to the dressing area with all the pieces of clothing we had picked out.

When I moved to measure his inseam I noticed something very familiar to me, the beginning of a hard-on. He knew I recognized what was going on. I became hesitant again, thinking to myself ‘this is a married man’. I am normally a strong believer in fidelity, but I knew that this one time dalliance wouldn’t make that much difference. All the morality seemed to disappear as, although unspoken, we both knew what was going on.

He grasped my shoulders and forced me to my knees. I looked up at him as soon as my knees hit the bare wood floor. He was already unzipping his pants. I was about to no longer be in charge of the situation I thought to myself as I looked up at him and a gorgeous hard cock was twitching at me. In what seemed to be a reflex and without any thought at all I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled my tits up and over my lace bra. My nipples were probably as hard his cock.
“Very nice honey”, he said as he squeezed my tits.
“Now measure this”, he said as he grabbed a hold of his cock.
I did exactly that. I measured 7 1/2 inches from the base to his head. Then I measured the circumference, a thick 6 inches.

He grabbed my hair and pulled me to his cock. As I was forced to lean in towards his crotch, he gave me another instruction,” Now show me my new tie”.
I looked up at him knowingly. I pulled the closest silk tie to my hands. Yes I like men’s ties, especially when they’re used as a subtle cock ring and ball teaser. I ran the smooth silk across his balls then tied it snugly at the base of his stiff meat.

I started by licking across his balls, replacing the silk with my wet tongue. They were salty and heavy on my lips. By now he was leaning on the wall. Tilting his hips to move his cock closer to my face. I flattened my tongue and ran it up the underside of his thick hard shaft.
His taste, his smell, the feel of his hardness all turned me on, but one thought added to stimulation, the idea that I may be overheard or caught. Was it possible that people were walking by and hearing our moans? Would I be fired?
I let that thought escape my mind and went to concentrating on the hot hard meat that had just slide between my lips. My tongue swirled around his cock as my lips hugged his shaft. He almost moaned out, but caught himself. As I took more of him into my mouth I held his nuts in the silkiness of his tie.
I could feel him throb and thicken in my mouth. He thrust more deeply and I felt his cockhead hit the back of my throat. I started my sucking like a hungry baby. I wanted that hot milk of his. I cinched up on the tie as I began to bob on his cock and let him fuck my face. Once that happened there was no turning back. I looked up at him again, nodded, and started to hum on his cock. He held my face down on his meat, deep, so his balls were pushed against my chin.
Then I felt that special twitch, any good cocksucker knows what I mean, it feels like a trigger being pulled on a shotgun. A second later I was fed with hot gooey cum. I gobbled up that prize, not missing a drop. I looked up at him as I swallowed him up. He smiled down at me and gently pulled out of my mouth.

He didn’t say a word. He put his hands on my shoulders and we took a few steps to the chair in the corner. He bent me over the chair. I was intrigued so I went along with him. He quickly flipped my skirt up onto my back, pulling down my panties exposing my swollen aching wet pussy.

I felt his tongue run down my wet slit…but that’s another story.
And I didn’t even know his name!

-Dirty Debbie

Sexy Nurse

My friend Kinky Kim at iKinky wrote this little sperm donor fantasy for me (that’s Kim in the photo):

“This fantasy was inspired by my friend Nick on MySpace…

The small white room you’re sitting in could not be more uncomfortable.

As you sit on the sterile black bench you reach to the stand next to you and pick up a plastic cup and one of the nude magazines.
Unzipping your pants, you try and arouse your manhood as you flip through the pages.

Minutes seem like hours and you’ve yet to even become erect. A knock on the door turns your noodle even more soggy.

kinky_sexy_nurse_whip_bondage“Can I assist you in there” I say through the door. Your silence is my go-ahead to enter the room. I walk in to find you covering yourself with a magazine and an embarrassed look on your face.

“Let me help you bring your soldier to attention.” I remove my white nurses gown and uncover my black pvc nurses costume and a black whip at my side. I order you and your “staff” to stand at attention.

I bend you over the bench and give you a few good whips on your bare ass just for good measure. Now I watch as you pleasure yourself and fill the cup like a good little boy :)”

The Landing Scene

Dressed for the office …with raincoat on, he moves onto the landing of the single floor apartment where the staircase drops down to the front door.

She emerges from another door between him and the stairs ….is dressed in an ankle length layered black negligee which is untied …revealing the fitted black slip underneath.

The meet near the head of the stairs where looking not at his face, but at his chest, she hands him his briefcase which he takes, but then stepping to one side, places on a small hall table.

Her eyes lower to where she watches his fingers unbuttoning his jacket. Below, and as the jacket opens, she can see the bulge in his trousers.

She wets her lips, she swallows and feels her pulse rate increase. As his right hand finishes the unbuttoning, his left …palm forwards …reaches forwards and his fingertips trace the almost scratchy lace covering over her breasts.

Her breath catches. With one hand on each shoulder, he turns her so that her back is towards him and he gently pushes her towards the railing and banisters.

She understands and knows, and leaning forwards with her elbows on them, she waits. His hands, as if for the first time, raise the layers of the negligee to her waist.

The early morning light that filters through to where they are, softly lights her bottom beneath the black silk of her slip.

There he can see the outline of her undergarments through the slip which he traces with his eyes. Between thumb and forefinger, he pinches the slip at either side of her bottom and slowly raises the material, gathering it between the fingers, hoisting it ….the pace of his actions increasing slightly as the garments are raised higher.

The material of her negligee is beginning to slip off of her buttocks …threateningly. Placing one finger in the small of her back, he halts it’s progress …and all action is frozen ….until one of her hands reaches around to replace his. Her legs are elongate in the height of her black high heels.

Her ankles are together, the lines of the seams run straight ….disappearing but continuing their blackness …running into the blackness of the lacy hem of her slip which is now at high thigh level.

The darker band it the top of the stockings are as precisionable as the tabs of the satin that holds them in place. The width of her lightly tanned thighs were taken into account when he bough her lingerie …it was all about proportions ….and the band of thigh is narrow before it to vanishes beneath the hem of her satin legged panties.

They reminded him of ‘tap dancers’ shorts when he first saw them, the kind he saw in films from the 20’s and 30’s which chorus line girls wore to rehears in. Tight across the hips, they flared slightly.

He hates elastic ….will not allow it in any of his or her clothing. The slip rides higher the royal blue of the side ties appears ….he tugs at the bow on the left and then the right. For moments that seem to stretch and gather anticipation with it, nothing. Then the material … with gravity as his friend …unfolds itself and the panties begin their curtain like descent.

She has not tanning lines, her soft glowing tanned bottom is revealed as he indicates that she should hold the slip in place with the negligee. It’s a ritual …this is part of the ritual. His trousers are all buttoned, there is never the sound of a zip ….and her anticipation is itself always in a state of anticipation …her mind flitting back and forth between asking herself ‘When’ and telling herself ‘not to’ ask.

Not words, but meanings …like signals …like Morse signals …indications of ‘silence’ …to silence herself and that questioning. Indicating acceptance. Her panties, like a shining black pool, are around her still ankles where the morning light reflect on the folds and on the shoes. Her black legs illuminated softly up one side …showing that soft tanned flesh that hold his eyes…..

Between her thighs the shadows deepen into the darker valley between her buttocks. He steps back. From the draw in the table which has been waxed and slides silently, he takes a tube which he uses to moisten and lightly lubricates his erection when he pulls on …it was tumescent …oh how he loves that tumescent state, that state which leads him …containing a poignant need which is either or neither the precursor to his arousal.

He strokes himself and looks at her. Her thighs cannot close, there is always that space there …at which at the apex is ‘her purse.’ He things of ‘it’ as that …calls it that …in his head. But it looks like a walnut …with it’s wrinkled folds that unfold when engorged….. There are times when he will just simply look at her ….stare at and marvel at …drink in this image and feel for it inside himself.

He loves when it unfolds, when the lips ‘purse’ like a trumpet’s bell end ….when she is aroused and at peek ….where he sees the moisture of her …as it gathers. It tastes like….! He never has a word for it …he’s never found onet. It tastes ….no …it is ….her. Stepping forwards he places a finger on each hip …as if he were straightening a picture on a wall. Her feet move apart …she looks down …moves one foot to step outside the pool down there. She, takes a deep breath.

She hears his taking intake of breath ….and hers catches in her throat …as the anticipation climbs. Those fingers in her hips slide to the place where the thigh and buttock meet …and there is the slight pressure upwards.

She arches her back forwards ….the dip of her back meaning that she nolonger need try to hold her clothing in place. He strokes himself again …one hand placed onto the top of her buttock …as if he were steadying himself …..or taking aim!

Her breathing …it catches again and her heart rate increases. She feels the heat from him as he steps nearer…. which she doesn’t understand. The amount of his naked flesh is minimal ! ….but that heat reassures her …somehow.

Then …the touch. His touch …his cock head touches her skin and that anticipation state moves into the next gear. The cockhead has travelled the length of the darkened valley ….searching for its way in ….that secret doorway into the moist warmth of that secret world in her flesh. He stops ..he’s found it …he is trying the key in her door!
The game, it’s a game he plays that she loves …this searching …this teasing of her. She loves it …but wonders what her sister would say if she knew.

What would her sister say if she cold see her …now …standing like this …arched back ..draped in black …heels thrust high …arse thrust high like the prow of a ship …searching for ….and she is stilled as the knob gains entry ….her mind ceases all movement. They key is turned and the darkened entry opened and he slides in …and is still ….for moments.

They feel one another …he questioning the inner guard …she answering, telling the guard to stand down. He feels her relax and her hunger comes to replace it. His hand slaps down, hard on her rump. He doesn’t want her hunger, just her compliance. It’s a game …of mutual hungers.

They must each play their part to achieve their maximum’s. It stings …she is still. She waits. Then he is through that inner security. He advances slowly, feeling the walls expand to meet him and to feel him. His balls stay inside his trousers. She likes this …this minimalism …with only the flesh of his cock in contact …in this context. Then, he is withdrawing.

She feels and he feels the mutual silkiness of their flesh in connection. The kiss of flesh …the warmth of the greeting and their mutual fit. He retreats slowly and advances …retreats and advances. She can hear his breathing and feels her fires of her needs …she shifts her hips …moves her arse …
Oh how she loves that word …silently in her head. She moves her arse to meet him …like a dance …that rhythm …her tease to make the advance …that angle problematic …yet, to help him with his fit into her flesh. He slams into her…! ‘Oh awh,’ she gasps …eyes widening.
She hadn’t felt that coming …and it sparks another cry from her throat ….a spark of neediness in her.

‘Uuuuh’ she cries as he rises onto his toes …she knows that he next thrust will be a deeper angle of attack on her arse …and she dips her back further, her head dropping below the line of the handrail …her fingers holding onto it …and there is one more thrust down and she pushes up to meet it and his is pumping and crying and groaning and gritting his teeth and shuddering and she is gasping and then ….like a spring mechanism winding down……….

There is a stillness ….deep breaths ….and after shock shuddered ….an aftermath movement as the inner order takes over and their innards resettle themselves. She breathes deeply. She feels the heat of his deposits and the heat of her responses move through her. He’s in the bathroom.

She feel her own sexual emptyness …but feels to in measure against his gratification. Later, she knows, at the office, there will be at least one other occasion when she will be entered ….when hopefully her needs will be met.

But then …even if not, it doesn’t matter because she knows that she is his ….she is available here should he decide to call in ….she he decide to stay the night with her and nothis wife, or should he decide to have her somewhere in the office.

As his PA, she is his …as his mistress she is his ….as his – she is his.

-Rae Graham (August 2000)

Jaslyns’ Story

I was born in Hong Kong and lived in Singapore until my twenty second birthday when I got a job with an investment bank back in Hong Kong. I’d worked there for three years, been promoted twice and now ran the finance office. I was doing well, my staff liked me and the bosses held me in high regard. I had always received a lot of attention from men and some attributed my rise in the company to my good looks.

I take a pride in my appearance and always make sure that I’m dressed to look businesslike. If I’m honest, I have to admit that I like to wear clothes that get noticed by the power wielding males in the company. I usually wear blouses that when the light is just right, you can see straight through and I never wear bras because I find them uncomfortable. I tend to favour pencil skirts with a nice split that opens as I walk across the office, if I stride, you can sometimes see the tops of my stockings. At nearly five feet eight inches, I’m tall for a Chinese girl and I have a well proportioned figure with great legs, so I use it to my advantage.

About a month before it happened, a memo had circulated telling all the staff that anyone working late should contact Building Security and make sure that an escort was available for when they wanted to leave. I always worked late and nothing had ever happened to me before. Nor anyone else working in the building for that matter.

It was Friday night and we were stretched to meet a deadline for a really important project. Everyone had gone home apart from the general manager and myself. He came out of his office and said,

“Gotta rush Jas, I’m off to the opera with Felicity tonight and didn’t realise how late it was getting. You gonna be here long?”

“Nope, just want to get this spreadsheet cleared then I’m away.”

He said goodnight and that was the last I saw of him.

I worked on for another hour or so then took a break to look out of the window. Hong Kong harbour was forty eight floors below and I could see right across to Kowloon. It was one of those hot sticky nights and I was glad of the air conditioning. My mind wondered to my friends who would be meeting up in the bars of Lan Kwai Fong about now and I wondered if I had time to finish my work and join them in time for a few drinks to welcome the weekend in.

I snapped out of my daydream when I heard the glass doors rattle. I walked through to the lobby and as I rounded the corner I could see past the reception desk into the lift foyer. There were three white guys hanging around the lift doors with a trolley loaded with Compaq boxes. Then another came into sight just beside our entrance doors. I walked forward and as I approached the ornate etched glass doors, I said

“Hello, can I help you?”

The one by the door, a big man wearing Apex Removals overalls said

“This is the 48th floor innit?”
“Yes” I said.

“We got a delivery for Soloman Sachs, that’s here, innit?”

“Errm, yes this is Soloman Sachs but I’m not expecting any delivery.”

“I got twenty six computers for the trading room at Soloman Sachs and if that’s here, that’s where they’re going. You wanna see the paperwork?” He said.

I wasn’t worried or anything, it was quite normal for the building to be full of removals and delivery people at night, especially at night, that’s when all the office workers have gone home and the service people come in. It just seemed a little strange that I, the finance office manager, didn’t know about a delivery of computers, especially an order of twenty six complete units for the trading rooms. I opened the door and checked the delivery note. It seemed to be in order so I said,

“OK, you had better bring them in.”

He took the note back and said

“Right, Jason and Phil, you get back down for the rest of the gear and the other lads. Me and John will drop this load off and wait for you to come back up. Make sure you lock the van when you’re done. Right, luv, where do you want it?” he said with a leering grin.

I opened the door and they wheeled the first trolley through into the main reception room.

“The trading room is through the doors on your right” I told them.

Then I closed the door and went back to my desk, kicked my shoes off and sat down to finish my spreadsheet. I could hear the men talking to each other and opening the boxes as I set my analysis programme to check the spreadsheet. I thought that now was a good time to break for a coffee.

As I walked past the trading room door I peered in and offered coffee to the three men standing around scratching their heads while they attempted to figure out what went where.

“You’re a darlin’, mine’s white with sugar. And the boys’ll have it the same.”

I went into the kitchen and poured four cups of coffee then brought them back and sat the tray on the edge of one of the trading desks. I handed the coffees out and sat myself in a chair. The older of the men asked me why I was still here on a Friday night.

“Pretty girl like you should be out dancing or something.” He said.

“I don’t seem to have mush time for that sort of thing anymore, I’m always here after everyone else has gone home.”

Ah, you’re one of these career girls. A hardened new breed of oriental woman, I prefer the Geishas’ myself.” He said with a smile.

The other two were sniggering to themselves but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. My English is pretty good, it needs to be when you’re working for a European company, but my first language is Cantonese.

I asked the guy if he was English and he told me that most of the company was. They had a few Chinese but they were unreliable and had a nasty habit of dropping expensive boxes. We talked for a while and then I noticed that one of the other guys was staring at my legs. I was wearing a long wrap around skirt and it had split from the hem all the way to the thigh and as I crossed my legs. As the split gaped, it showed off the lacy tops of my stockings. He was good looking for a westerner and I suddenly had the most wicked thought to tease him a little.

The older guy was asking me what I usually did on Friday nights and as I told him that I usually met up with some friends after work. I shifted myself on the chair rocking myself onto my right buttock. It would have looked as though I was turning myself to face the older guy with whom I was talking but I knew that my split had opened and was probably revealing the back of my left thigh and the inside of my right thigh.

I noticed the two younger guys move away from their more senior colleague and pretend to be interested in the view from the window.

“Look down there, you can nearly see everything.”

I heard one of them say and wondered if they were talking about me or the view from the window. This was fun I thought to myself as I contemplated another move.

I realised that the air conditioning had been turned off in the room we were in and commented on it as I unfastened the top two buttons on my blouse.

“It’s been so terribly hot this summer.” I said as I fiddled with the material.

Then I noticed that the older guy was staring at me now and I wondered if I’d made it too obvious. I became embarrassed and decided to go back to my office to finish my work.

“Leave your cups in the kitchen when you finish with them, the cleaners will wash them.” I said as I stood and left the room.

I sat down at my desk feeling stupid. I was doing well for a while and then the blouse thing ruined it all. The younger guys was really getting turned on and then I blew it… my mind was racing, what were they thinking of me now, I hope they don’t say anything to anyone who works here. Just then I heard the reception door open and one of the other guys wheeled another trolley through calling out as he did.

“John, you here?”

I heard the reply from the trading room.

“Come on lads, where have you been?”

The guys pushed the trolley past my desk towards their friends voices. They smiled as they went past.

“Someone’s jammed the service lift, we had to wait for ages.” One said.

I smiled back and said.

“Everyone’s had coffee, if you want one just help yourself in the kitchen.”

And got back on with my work, deciding to behave myself.

I completed my spreadsheet and l leaned forward to find my shoes under the desk. I could feel that my panties were damp all along the gusset and knew that this was from my little adventure with the guys in the trading room. I was surprised that I had become so aroused from something so innocent and felt compelled to feel the gusset just to check out how wet I actually was.

I opened my skirt and parted my legs just enough to allow me access to my panties. I stroked my index finger up my inner thigh and contacted with the silky black material just below my cunt. Then I ran my hand over the gusset. It felt wet, very wet. It seemed cold at first and then I rubbed my thumb against my fingers testing the slipperiness of the fluid.

My slit was begging to be touched and I was turned on by the idea of doing this while there was a bunch of guys just around the corner in the next room. I slid my palm over my knickers and closed my eyes feeling the mound of my cunt. I moved my middle finger over my lips. They were puffed up and I felt them part under my touch. My brain was being battered by the sensations of my fingers probing my lips and how the wetness felt as it seeped through the gusset of my knickers.

I pulled the gusset to the side and ran my middle finger over my cuntlips, spreading them apart and tickling the side of my clit. Oh, that felt good, I wanted more and I needed it right now. I began to slowly frig myself through my panties, spreading my juices around over the gusset. I pushed my back into the chair and lifted my hips, with both hands I felt my cunt and massaged both sides of my clit. Then I spread the juices down the inside of my thighs and up between my buttocks. I had completely forgotten about the computer fitters but they must have heard my moans and decided to investigate.

The first I knew of it was the touch of a strange hand on my cunt. I opened my eyes wide in shock and saw at least six men standing around my desk and one of them was reaching between my legs and feeling my slit.

“You dirty little bitch.”

It was the voice of the oldest man.

“You’re a proper little slut aren’t you. Phil said you were flashing him in the other room and you know what’s going to happen now don’t you?”

His voice was menacing and I was scared.

“I forgot you were here. I…”

“Yeah, right. And all that moaning was for your own benefit was it? You’re a whore, a slut and now you’re going to prove it.

He slid his trouser zip down and reached inside for his cock. He struggled to get it out, it seemed to be stuck and then I saw why. He was huge.

His dick sprang from his trousers and he waved it under my face.

“Now, suck it like a good little whore.” He said.

I watched in terror as the other guys pulled their cocks out too and began to masturbate them in front of me. They were staring at my wet panties and splayed legs. I began to cry.

“Enough of that, whore. Suck my cock.” Said the man as he thrust it against my lips. I opened my mouth and bent my head forward to take him in. He leaned over me and ripped my blouse open saying.

“We’ll put that back to how it was in the other room shall we, whore.”

My blouse tore as the buttons flew across the room. My little breasts with their erect nipples were now exposed for all the men to see and I truly felt as though I was a whore.

Then he placed his hands on the back of the chair either side of my head and groaned as I began to suck and slide my lips over his cock.

The others were standing all around me as they masturbated. One reached between my thighs and pulled at my knickers. I remember thinking that if I lose my panties I would be raped and snapped my legs together. I lifted my head back off the cock and desperately murmured.

“Please leave my panties alone. I will suck you all if you like but please leave my panties on.”

“No way whore, we want to see your cunt.”

I decided to pull the gusset to the side and show them my cunt while they masturbated. That way I would retain some control of the situation and maybe get out unhurt.

I leaned back into the chair and as I took the cock back into my mouth I pulled my panties to the side showing off my glistening wet cunt. At that moment I felt the cock tense and the man groaned as his jism splashed into my throat. With my free hand I milked his cock until the last drops of spunk were in my mouth. As he pulled out I let his sperm run from my mouth and dribble onto my chest.

Within seconds there was another dick beside my head and I dutifully opened my lips to engulf it. I was rubbing my clit and fingering myself, desperately trying to keep the rest of the men occupied while they waited for their turn. Then I felt someone cum on the back of my hand. It ran between my fingers onto my panties and dribbled down my cuntlips. It crossed my mind to remove my skirt in case any of the others did the same thing. The last thing I needed was to have my clothes covered in cum.

I pulled my finger out of my slit and unfastened my belt, unhooked the clasp and raised my hips as I pulled the skirt from under my ass. I tossed it onto the floor as far away from my desk as I could and went back to my performance.

I lifted my right leg over the arm of the chair and began to rub my cunt through my panties again when I felt someone splash their cum onto my inner thigh. It ran downwards over the stocking, soaking through the nylon as it trailed. I wanted to touch it and stroked my hand away from my gusset and towards my inner thigh as yet another squirt of cum landed on my stomach and ran towards my panties.

By the time it was finished I had sucked seven men off and I was drenched in sperm. It was all over my legs, my panties, my breasts and stomach, it was in my hair and running down my chin. I had behaved like a whore to avoid being raped but at the end of it, all I wanted was to be fucked by someone, anyone.

Written by luvverman for Jaslyn.

Legs, Legs, Legs!

It makes me proud to say that Monica is the most accomplished leg slut
I know. I’m proud of that, because she’s my wife-slave-slut, but also
because I taught her most of the techniques that she now uses so
wonderfully to tease men and women and make their cocks rock hard and
their pussies drip with juice. Her legs are like Blackpool Tower –
amusements and ballroom at the top.

If you’ve read any of my stories, I’m sure you’re aware that I love
long nipples and nice, tight asses. But nothing quite gets me going
like a pair of pretty legs, and a woman who knows how to use them.
Using them correctly isn’t as easy as one might think. I know lots of
women with nice legs, but many whom have a lot to learn about how to
really use what they have to an advantage.

One girl I knew who taught me most of what I know about how women
can use their legs to their advantage, was a gal named Belinda who I grew
up with. She was as cute as a button when she was a young girl. That
cuteness later matured into great beauty as she got older. She was a
lovely woman inside and out, but it was the way she used her legs
through the years that is the focus of my story.
Believe it or not, it was in Sunday School that I first began to be
enchanted by Belinda’s legs. We were in class together when she was
fourteen and I was twelve. She’d begun to wear stockings by that age,
and in those days most mothers made their daughters wear dresses to
church every Sunday. This was in the pre-tights days when the
“good” girls wore corsets whether they needed them or not, simply to
avoid having to wear the sexier suspender belts. Nothing was much more
frustrating than trying to make it with a girl who didn’t want to give
up her corset, I’ll tell you. I spent far too many nights rubbing
hot pussies through the stiff covering of a long-legged corset than
was worthwhile.

Belinda was a good girl, too. But luckily for me, her mother wasn’t
about to make her wear a corset. Let’s face it, the girl was tall and
slim, and it just didn’t make sense to make her wear some old corset.
It would be another 20 years or more before she’d have any need for
anything like that.

Maybe it came naturally to her, I don’t know, but Belinda moved her
legs in ways that other women never even dreamed of moving them. They
were long and extremely shapely, and to watch her cross them was a
thing of beauty even when she was fourteen. She would move them so
fluidly, and if you listened hard, you could hear the swish of the
nylon as the upper leg moved slowly and sensuously across the lower

She would cross them, then turning her foot to the side and tucking
it over to the left, she would place her other foot behind that one,
crossing her ankles as well as her knees. Invariably when she did that
her dress would stand out a bit at the sides, so, sitting across the
room from her, I could almost always steal a glimpse of her suspenders and
the tops of her stockings.

The thing about Belinda was that she knew I was watching her and she
knew that I was seeing up her dress. She knew I was loving her beautiful
legs and she would just simply smile and continue her show. I wish I
had a quarter for every time I’d masturbated thinking about her legs and
the sexy shows she put on for me on Sunday mornings.

By the time I got to high school, Belinda was going steady with
another guy. We were always friends, but in those days going steady
was the rule, and if you weren’t the first guy to get hooked up with
someone, you were just out of luck. Still, there was never any secrets
between Belinda and me about my desire for her, or for her interest in
keeping that desire strong. I’d walk by her in the congested corridors
of the school and let the back of my hand brush against her thigh so
that I could feel her suspender through her dress. She would simply
pause, letting me feel as long as I dared, then smile and walk on,
helping me cover up our little teasing routine by dropping her books to
cover my hand as I touched her.

We lost touch after her graduation from high school when she went off
to college. I’d see her occasionally at church when she came back
home to see her parents, and if I was lucky, I’d get another leg show
from time to time. But those opportunities became more and more scarce
as I went to college myself.
It was after my graduation from college and my return to my
father’s grocery business that I was once again able to see Belinda from
time to time. She had married her high school sweetheart by this time,
and I had married mine, as well. But she shopped for her groceries in
our store, and I made sure that I always was the one who carried her
groceries to the car for her. I wasn’t about to miss a chance to see
her swing those long legs into the car.

The view got even better with the advent of the mini-skirt and the
invention of tights. No one has ever looked better in a mini-skirt
than Belinda did. She was twenty five years old at the time and in the
prime of her life as far as her body was concerned. Her legs had never
looked better, nor had the rest of her body. When she came in the
store with a mini-skirt on, she was the focus of attention of every man
in the store.

We continued to play our little teasing game, of course, and when I
would take her groceries out, I’d always be sure to put them in the
back seat on the driver’s side so I could hold the door for her and
watch her get in. I made no secret of my admiration for her legs,
commenting to her on how beautiful they were and how much I loved her
in the short skirts that were the rage of the day. She ate it all up
and was always very free in the way she swung her legs and let her
skirt ride even further up when she got in the car.

I eventually grew bolder and bolder with Belinda as our flirtation
continued, and before long I was sliding her dress up with my hand even
further after she had entered the car, so that I could see even more
leg. She always scolded me and pulled it back down, but not once did
she ever try to stop me until I had slid it up as high as I dared and
had a good look at her.
She had a small child, a daughter, and before long was expecting
her second child. It was difficult for her to handle getting out as
often as she liked with the first child so little, and of course, I was
eager to help her in any way I could. One day she called and asked if
I would mind bringing her a box of Pampers on my way home to lunch. I
didn’t mind at all, of course, and I eagerly awaited the arrival of my
lunch hour that day.

When I got to her house and rang the doorbell, she greeted me in a
lovely blue dress that did little to cover the long and beautiful legs
that flowed from her hips to the floor.

“Oh, thanks!” she said warmly with a big, sexy smile. “Come on in.
You don’t know how much I appreciate your bringing these by for me.
I’ve just now gotten the little one asleep. Sit down for a minute, if
you have time.”

I sat in a chair in the living room, watching as she poured herself
onto the couch across from me, crossing her legs in that wonderfully
familiar way. When she had crossed them, her hand fell to her lap
which unobtrusively resulted in her hem being raised a good four or
five inches more.
She began to talk to me about the trials of motherhood, and as she
spoke her, hands began caressing those long legs which were mesmerizing
me as she talked. I was nearly in a trance.
“You really do like my legs, don’t you?” she said with a smile,
awaking me from my reverie.
A bit embarrassed to be caught staring so intently, I laughed a
nervous, little laugh and replied, “You know I do. I’ve never seen
anyone with more beautiful legs than you have. They’ve excited me for
at least ten years now.”

“Come here,” she said, patting the couch beside her.
I walked across the room, feeling my cock growing hard inside my
pants. Much more, and it would be obvious how excited her legs made
me. I sat next to her on the couch and felt Belinda take my hand in
hers, and place it in on her thigh, a good six inches above her knee.
“I’m glad you like my legs so much. I love for men to admire them,
and I love to show them off. Do you like the way they feel?”
My cock was now straining at the front of my pants. I’d never been
harder or hotter in my life. “Oh, gawd, Belinda. I’ve dreamed of
touching them more times than I can tell you. They feel wonderful!”
I said breathlessly.

Belinda removed her hand from mine and taking the hem of her dress in
her hands began to slide it upward until she had raised it nearly to
her waist.

“Touch them all you like. Touch them anyway you like,” she said,
her own breathing now affected by the passion she was feeling as well.

I slid my hand up her thigh, all the way to her panties, caressing
her soft skin and sliding my hand over the sides to touch every inch of
them. There is something really sexy about the feel change from skin to nylon
and immediately back to skin, that escapes words.
She watched my hands at first, but soon slid down on the couch
to lay her head back against the back and uncrossed her legs, letting
them fall open slightly. The blue dress had now ridden up to her
waist, exposing her white bikini panties, and I saw tufts of black pubic hair curls, just escaping from the sides of the panties, as well as every inch of the
legs that had been the object of my desire nearly half my life.

Sliding off the couch and kneeling in front of her, I began kissing
her legs just above the knees as my hands continued to adore them. She
let them fall even further open, until her pantied crotch was now fully
exposed to me. As I kissed her opened thighs, I looked at her panties
and watched as they grew stained from the leaking juice that was now
pouring from her cunt. She was as excited as I was, her cunt lips were already
starting to swell into a ridge under the cloth.What was at first a small circle had widened, until the damp stain now ran completely across the crotch of her
panties. My nostrils were filled with the smell of my favorite
fantasy: girl’s sex juices.

The closer I got to her crotch with my kisses, the wider she opened
her legs until finally I began to lick at her cunt through the wet
panties that tried so valiantly to hold in her juice. Her hips jerked
as my tongue licked across the silky fabric, stroking her hard clit
that pushed against it from the other side. I wanted to push the panties aside, and
sink my tongue inside her cunt-hole, but also wanted to prolong this magic moment.
Belinda reached down to pull the panties to one side, exposing her
now dripping wet fuck hole to my eager mouth and tongue. Her left leg
now rose, and she placed it on my shoulders, her right leg following
suit as she pressed her pussy hard against my mouth. Her hands moved
to my head, and she moaned sexily as she ground her hot pussy against
my mouth. Her clit was standing up by now, a small swollen dick-lick thing.
I sucked on it, flicked it to and fro with my finger, and kissed it.
I was in heaven. I loved the feel of her silky, long legs gripping
my head and the smell and taste of her wonderful fuck juice as it
poured out into my mouth. I could have eaten her for hours and never
grown tired. But in a very short time, her orgasm overtook her, and
she began coming against my face, hunching her hips at me and
tightening and releasing those precious legs against the side of my
head as she came. She seemed to want to push my head up into her, so strong was her passionate cradling. I have always liked the face-sitting position, but this was better.

When her legs had fallen away from my shoulders, I nervously looked
at my watch. I had to go. I was going to be too late getting home for
lunch if I didn’t hurry. “I have to get……..that was marvelous, Belinda.
I don’t know how I can thank you enough for what just happened.”
“Don’t go. Not yet,” she said, reaching out for me as I rose from
my kneeling position in front of her. Keeping her legs open wide and
her dress pulled all the way to her waist, Belinda began unzipping my
pants fishing my still rock hard cock out of its prison. Leaning
forward, she took it into her mouth and began to feed more and more of
it into her. Before I knew what was happening, she was fucking her
mouth back and forth on it giving me the best blow job I had ever had.
As I looked down at her sucking my cock, her beautiful, long legs
were splayed to either side of her head framing the action of her lips
on my dick. I placed my hands on her head, running my fingers through
her hair and pumped my cum-filled dick into her mouth as she eagerly
continued to suck on it.

In no time at all I could stand it no longer, ” I’m cumming, I’m cumming”
I shouted, but she did not let go of my throbbing dick. The hot spunk
inside of me erupted into her mouth in huge gobs. She lovingly swallowed
it, and when she had milked me dry, licked her tongue around her lips,
eager to get every little drop of my cum.

She lay back on the couch, leaving me to put my now limp dick back
into my pants and ran her hands along the insides of her soft thighs as
she smiled at me.

“You can do that again, you know. Anytime you want. My legs are
yours to kiss or touch or see any time and any way you like. You can
pull my dress up and see them whenever you like, and any time you want
to come by here and kiss them, just call and let me know. Thanks for
bringing the Pampers. I have an idea I’m going to be needing a lot of
them from now on,” she said smiling. I will get a load on order just as soon
as I get back to the store.

She did need alot of Pampers in the days to come. And I did take
advantage of her offer. Every time was as special as the first. To
this day, when I think of legs, I think of Belinda and the way she used
hers to drive me crazy all those years.

It gave me great pleasure to teach Monica many of the techniques
that Belinda taught me, and when I watch her cross and uncross them and
pull her dress up just the right amount to make mouth’s water all over
the room, I breathe a little thank you to the girl of my youth.

by Linda Chorlton
(April 2001)

In-flight Entertainment

I am a professional woman who has only just discovered her
submissive side in the last few months. I was reading a
romance novel (only about the second one I have ever read,
someone left it in the seat pocket in front of me) on a
long flight and found that I was soaking my panties and
almost hyperventilating while absorbed in the story.

It was mostly about a woman who is held captive by an ‘evil’ Prince while
she waited rescue by her ‘good’ Prince. I wanted her to
stay with the ‘evil’ Prince. I have a dark side to me.
My husband is 10 years older than me and a great lover, but
he is somewhat bewildered by this new interest. He was
worried that I was having an affair with a man who was
bringing this out in me, especially since I travel alone
frequently. But, since he saw my libido rise he is trying
to get into it and has played some Domination games with me.
Mostly blindfolds and tying me to the bedposts.

I had a late evening flight to a west coast trip meeting
recently, the trip was to end on a Friday and my husband
decided to come with me so we could have a weekend in San
Diego. We do this quite a bit since his work is very
flexible. On the plane I was in a middle seat, my husband
on the aisle and a very handsome older, maybe mid 50’s,
gentleman was in the window seat. I was whispering to my
husband that I hoped we could play some Dom games in San
Diego and he whispered back that if I could give the guy on
my right a hard on he would buy some props and play with me
in SD. I never thought about involving any third parties and
it made me both scared and very hot at the same time.

I hiked up my skirt a little trying to get his attention,
even brushed him with my breasts when I turned his way to
adjust my pillow. None of that worked. We did strike up a
conversation after my husband went to sleep, I told him
that as much as I fly I can never sleep in the air.

He laughed and confessed that he used to have the same problem.
He was reading a what looked like a spy novel and I asked him if he
liked it. He said that the story was so-so but that some of the
steamy parts were pretty good. I raised my eyebrows a bit and he said
here, have a look. He gave me the book to read excused himself and
turned out his light. I read two pages, this part of the story
was about an interrogator who used ‘soft’ methods to get information
from female spies. It included a lot of Sado-masochistic stuff.

I was getting excitedly wet. Since the cabin light were off I figured that
I could put my blanket on my lap and maybe get a little self relief.

The men on both sides of me seemed to be sleeping.
I turned out my light and and leaned back. With the blanket in my lap
and my legs crossed I figured I was being pretty private. I waited a
few minutes and slid my fingers under the hem of my skirt and started
running the edge of my nail up and down my clit against my stockings.
It felt great and I knew relief was in sight if I could control my
breathing. Suddenly I could feel a hand against my right thigh right
above my knee, I looked over and my new friend gave me a coy little
smile. I smiled back and he lifted the arm-rest between us.

I uncrossed my legs and he slid his hand under my blanket and replaced
my fingers with his. He used his little finger and slowly massaged my
stocking clad clit. I glanced at my husband, who was sleeping
soundly. I masked my orgasm with a stretch and a yawn but my neighbor
knew exactly what he had accomplished. He lifted his fingers to his
nostrils, and savoured the musky smell of my jizm like some expensive cigar.
I reached over to reciprocate under his blanket and he let
me stroke his hard cock for a while. But after a few
minutes he put my hand back on my lap and whispered that it
would be too messy.

When we started to land the light came on and I introduced
him to my husband. At baggage claim my husband surprised
the hell out of me when he said “I guess you won that
challenge”. He had witnessed the whole thing and was very
turned on by it. I was a lttle bleary for my meetings in
the morning since we stayed up half the night playing games.

by Linda Chorlton
(October 2001)

Her First Set of Stockings

Introducing something new to someone you care about, even love, can be a tricky business fraught with danger. Having long appreciated the female leg clad in sheer nylon it was something that had been on my mind for sometime during my relationship with S.

S was my first love – perhaps my most intense love – as first love often must be. And as S and I both were experimenting and learning our respective roles as each others’ friend and lover we fell into this wonderful exploration with passion and an open-mindedness that young adults have and hope to never loose.

But how to broach my interest and passion in stockings? S was a farm girl more comfortable in jeans, a wool sweater and an anorak than fine lingerie and stockings. Luckily circumstances were to prevail that would conspire to help create a wedge from which I could leverage my passion for stockings in a manner that would benefit S and certainly benefit me!

The wedge, as it were, was S was to become as she put it “corporate cookie.” Though this term was meant with some derision as in her wildest dreams S never thought she would be dressing in corporate attire for any job, less a career. But as happenstance would have it she got a job as a sales manager for a marketing firm specializing in supporting the arts and she was required to upscale her wardrobe from the comfort of cotton to that of nylons, dresses and skirts and appropriate footwear.

Since this was a summer job one of her first complaints was the discomfort pantyhose created in the humidity that southern Ontario is apt to experience due to its geographic proximity to some of the largest bodies of freshwater in the world. Even with the benefit of air conditioning S hated the tactile feel of pantyhose.

This was my chance.

One weekend I gathered my courage and took her down to Rosalind’s, a fine lingerie shop in my home town. The proprietor, Rosalind, was a breath of fresh air in lingerie retailing. She had a passion for and a deep knowledge of her well selected stock and she handled each customer with understanding and enthusiasm. Knowing that S would immediately feel at ease with Rosalind I took S downtown on some other pretense and when we were about to pass the lingerie store suggested we go in to look around.

Somehow my apprehension disappeared, and for what at that time was unusual, I took the initiative and opened the conversation with Rosalind when she greeted us and asked us if she could help us with anything.

Taking the proffered bait I offered out that ‘we’ were looking for some stockings and a garter belt. Rosalind in her way and without missing a beat asked if this was for “pleasure or for every day wear.” I could have kissed her. It was obvious to me my intent and I am sure S knew what too but Rosalind’s comment, with its implied humor, broke the ice nicely and S, being the assertive woman she was, made it known it was for every day wear.

Rosalind selected some eminently practical and non-frilly garter belts and showed them to us and even mentioned about the one she was recommending that the small rosette in the center of the belt was “sexy” and suggested S try it on. S went into the change closet and then emerged after sometime with the statement that the garter belt was fine and now it was time to select some hose. Inside I was beaming and expectant for the time S would first wear them.

A selection was made. A pair of taupe and grey stockings with no adornments like reinforced toes or heels – that would come later – and we paid for our purchase. Well, I gladly paid, and off we went.

As it turned out S was a stocking convert. As long as we were together she never wore pantyhose to work or for any time she wanted to wear a dress or skirt and she knew that like Pavlov’s dog, any time she covertly revealed to me that she was wearing stockings an appropriate response could be guaranteed from me!

Rosalind was guaranteed a return customer as well. I would often drive from Toronto to buy lingerie for S and Rosalind would always preface our dealings with, “Is this for you or for S?”

—by Eric

Eaten Under the Table

I like to eat, and I like to be eaten, what girl doesn’t. Last weekend I went on one of those “team-bonding” weekends that management consultants have been pushing hard over the last few years, to any firm daft enough to listen. An event can be anything from Go-Karting, with a Winner’s Rostrum and Champagne bottle spraying, to forest Paint-balling or Laser Light shootouts, to even abseiling down your firm’s own tower block. However, my employer, an international merchant bank, has more sense, and hired one of those Fell-walking weekends as an all-expenses paid “High Performance Award” weekend.

The lads are a team of four Acquistions and Mergers brokers, I am their P.A. or gopher. We left London at 8 am last Friday morning, and arrived at the hotel in the Derbyshire Peak District in time for lunch. There then followed, a Do’s and Don’ts session, minor First Aid teaching, and an orienteering session about using maps and a GPS handheld. Then we were taken by LandRover to about 3 miles away, on the far side of Edale and told to walk back to base camp, as a taster for the 15 miler the next day. Off we went, all dressed up like hot water cisterns, to my horror, as I had splashed out on a particularly sexy pair of lace panties and trousers at Hermes with which to tease the boys, on the odd occasion that I might lead the pack.

They love VPL, you know, visible panty line! Saturday was the most fun that I have ever had in the open, WITH all my clothes on, for years. I am not going to bore you with any more details, except to say that we all managed the chosen three Peaks, including Kinder Scout, circumvented Lady Bower Lake, and got the train back from Hope to Edale – having spent too much time enjoying pints in every pub we could not manage to pass by. Five in all. Our excuse for getting the train? Well, it was getting dark. “Safety First”.

The small rural hotel was empty except for us five, but as it was run by an old Etonian chum of the team leader, we were in for a meal to remember. Tom stuck his head into Jake’s room and asked if we were ready to go to dinner. “Sure am,” Jake said, jumping up and grabbing his sports coat. “Where to,” we all asked, as we hurried down the long wood panelled staircase, towards Reception.

“I’m really tense today,” he replied, “how about visiting The Under The Table Club?” Tom laughed and said, “Tense huh? Sounds good to me!” Talking shop until they entered the dining room, their tone quickly changed as the hostess asked what type of table they wanted.

“We all five want girls,” Jake answered without hesitation, “that’s okay with you, isn’t it Lindy, you Boys ?!?” “Fine by me,” we chorused, in blissful ignorance, while the waitress led us to a quiet corner table, in a private room, and drew curtains across the door, to prevent prying eyes, and said, “Please enjoy you dinner!”

Jake was by now removing his trousers and underpants, leaving him stark naked below his waist, so I I hiked up my dress and wriggled out of my nylons and lace underwear, my naked shaven pussy being clearly visible as I held my dress up and slipped into the large booth, followed immediately by Jake. The other chaps read the scene well, and took up the gauntlet – three smart lads, as I told you. They all settled into their seats and placed drinks orders.

The singularly unique thing about the Under The Table restaurant was what happened under your table during your meal. I spread my legs and waiting patiently for my girl to arrive, until finally feeling soft warm hands and a wet mouth moving up between my splayed legs while the mouth worked it’s way up to my pussy and settled on my open vagina.

“Mine’s here, Jake,” I cooed. “Mine too,” Jake rejoined, as he felt the tip of his penis being licked by a soft tongue and lips. Since Jake’s pal had invented this specialty at his hotel last year, this had become the hottest place to eat in the North! Only specially inviteds were allowed. You got your choice of a male or female to suck you under the table while you sat eating dinner or just having a drink.

Corina, the manager’s partner had recommended to Jake’s wife that she should try a young girl, and although she had never had a female eat her pussy before, they talked her into it, and watching her cum by having her twat eaten by an eighteen year old girl. It was the highlight of that evening! Jake was sold on the idea. Who else could he get to enjoy this unique experience? I’m glad he awarded us a bonus.

We all worked long hours, in London, unsociable hours on American or Japanese timetables, with overseas trips included, and were always under a lot of pressure to perform, and as Jake liked to say, “Every day it’s pull down your jockey’s and get out the yard stick!”

Being under all that pressure to succeed, it was only natural that we needed a place to uncoil some of that energy, so when ever Jake felt tense or pushed, he could always rely on a good hard cum to take any edge off, allowing him to refocus his efforts on the problem at hand! For similar reasons we four others were thankful that Jake had some place he could go to that allowed him to relax.

We were unaware how he relieved that very basic tension which seemed to be omnipresent between his legs! As long as I can remember I was a masturbater girl and sometimes I would call Jake into my office and have him expose his large penis to me as I masturbated at my desk.

Jake would usually just stand there with his erection sticking out so I could get and eyeful while I frigged my slit, but once in a while though, he would let me suck the big stiffy until it came in my mouth! Now, however, I felt the need to be eaten out, and this became the best place to get it! I rarely got a girl licking my pussy, but, on this occasion, it just seemed like the girls had a more tender technique, and a more sensitive knowledge on how to satisfy a women’s clit!

Leaning back now, all of us were soon off in a world of our own, Jake feeling his ball sack tighten, as he neared his cum, while I had slipped my hand inside my bra and was mindlessly tweaking my hardened nipples. All four of the boys were soon were cumming into the mouths of our under table hosts while I let go a deep guttral moan as my pussy flooded a torrent of juice.

Jake’s body stiffened as he loosened a big load into the mouth of his hot little cocksucker! The other three members of the team, initially had been shaken by mine and Jake’s disrobing, but were now well into the swing of things in the adjacent, but secluded booths, I could hear that. “God that was good,” I stammered!

“For me too,” Jake replied! “I gotta go to the Ladies,” I said, as I slid out of the booth and headed to the bathroom at the rear of the bar. Inside the Ladies were two girls and two boys, all of whom were there to help with any personal hygiene problems that any of the patrons may have had.

One of the girls asked, “May one of us help you Ma’am?” I nodded and asked her to join me in the stall. After closing the door behind us, the girl asked what she could do for me. “After I pee, could you please use a warm damp cloth to clean my vagina, and then use your tongue on my crack?” I asked.

The girl smiled and nodded yes. When I had finished peeing, I stood up and held my dress above my waist so that my vagina was exposed while the young girl gently used a wash rag to dab the folds of my pussy whilst I sighed and leaned against the wall. Pussy received it’s bath. “All done Ma’am, said the girl, “Would you like me to use my tongue now?”

“Yes, please,” I begged! “Would madam like me to have one of the boys come in and show you his penis while I attend to your vagina,'” asked the girl?

I nodded my agreement, and soon a smooth skinned nineteen year old boy was in the stall pushing down his shorts. Out popped a slim hard penis that stuck straight up in the air! I moaned as the young girl ran her tongue up and down my wet slit, whilst the boy smiled at her and asked, “Would you like me to masturbate for you Ma’am?”

In a hoarse voice, I squeaked, “Oh god, please!” I watched with glassy eyes as the young boy worked his hand up and down his hard shaft, after a short while the boy said, “Tell me when you’re going to cum, and I’ll ejaculate my sperm for you, okay?!?”

I could only nod my head, as I was now sweeping downhill, engulfed by another orgasm! The mouth on my pussy was relentless in it’s attack on my clit, I was now being hurtled uncontrollably to another cum load!

As my clit started to explode, she said in a wavering voice to the boy, “S-shoot it now, I’m c-c- cumming with her, too!”

As her cunt began its spasmodic contractions, the boy looked her in the eye, and then sprayed a heavy load of cum into the air, while beating his young meat shamelessly in front of me, the older lady. I, by now totally spent, slumped down on the toilet gasping for breath.

“Was that all right Ma’am,” the girl asked? “Excellent, just excellent,” I gushed. Your experience belies your years, girl.

When I got back to the table, Jake was all dressed and paying the bill. “A long time in the Ladies, weren’t you, we were going to organise a search party.” he said with a twinkle in his eye? Slapping his arm, I shouted to all four of them, “Last man standing at the bar tonight gets to have me fuck him properly, whilst I’m wearing a maid’s uniform!”

I’m not going to tell you who won. Drunk he may have been, rock hard and filled me full of jizm he most certainly did. None of the others knew who it was either – too far gone to notice!

by Linda Chorlton
(October 2001)