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Her Stockings

The young man cannot take his eyes away from her stockings, and she knows it...
She had long, long legs, encased in sheer black nylons, and she sat opposite him with her knees pressed to one side. Her inner thighs brushed lightly together with each movement she made. Her pencil skirt had ridden up and he could see the darkness of her stocking tops where he wanted to run his fingers.

He imagined his hands over the rough lace stocking tops, working upward; a delicious friction, and then finding her smooth skin and the heat of her arousal.

She caught him looking and he turned away quickly, his face flushed. When he looked back later she returned his glance with reproachful eyes. She opened her thighs slightly, teasing him.

He sipped his drink, dreaming of her thighs spread across him, riding him into submission, swelling each time she dropped down on his body to fill herself with the stiffness of his cock. He dreamed of grasping her thighs in his palms roughly, kneading her flesh, and working up to her nipped waist. He shut his eyes as he dreamed of holding her and gushing inside her, emptying the seed in his balls into her wetness.

She took a long white cigarette from a packet and drew it up to her lips. He watched her light it and inhale deeply before blowing a ribbon of blue smoke into the air above her.

When he excused himself to the bathroom he had to pass close by her and she smiled up at him. He muttered nervously.

When he unlocked the bathroom door to return to the party she was there waiting. She pushed him back inside and locked the door behind them.

She was tall and wore high stilettos. She smiled at him and he immediately felt utterly powerless. His heart pounded.

“Do you like my stockings?” she questioned.

“Yes. Yes I do!” he stammered. “Your legs are stunning.”

Her eyes widened.

She stood close to him and he nervously took a pace back against the wall. She stepped forward to him and slid a hand between his legs and caressed his crotch through the material of his suit trousers feeling his cock swell and lengthen.

He swallowed hard.

She grinned as she took a pace back and firmly drew her tight skirt up around her gorgeously curved hips to reveal her black lace stocking tops and golden thighs and her lace thong stretched over her plump pussy. He stared down.

“This is what you wanted to see when you were staring at me, isn’t it, you dirty boy?” she questioned. “This is the way you’ll have me in your filthy dreams tonight?”

He nodded slowly, his mouth dry, unable to reply.

“Then show me what you do when you’re alone, thinking about girls like me in their stockings. Show me how you bring yourself off.”

“Are you serious?” he asked dryly.

“I’m always serious,” she replied, “and I want to see right now.”

A little dazed, he fumbled to undo his fly and then he slid a hand into his tight boxers and drew out his cock, thick and erect with a clear drop of pre cum dripping from the tip. His fingers barely met around its girth.

A big smile crossed her face and she whistled.

“My, my! You’re a big boy. All for me,” she said, as she pulled the material of her skirt up higher around her waist and stepped forward to press herself against him.

“Feel my stocking tops. Feel them with the head of your cock. Rub it over them, and wank yourself until you cum. Make my stockings drip with your cum. Soak me like you would in your dreams. Make me your whore!”

It seemed unreal to him and entirely thrilling.

He acted out her command without resistance and shuddered through his entire body as the swollen head of his cock ran over her rough lace stocking tops leaving a trail of sticky pre cum over the material. She slid her hands down between her legs ash she spread her thighs then slid her fingers over the wet pool of her cunt.

Unable to resist, he began to work his hand up and down his long cock, rubbing it against her thighs, masturbating against her legs.

“Good boy!” She laughed as he increased his pace and his hand pumped up and down his shaft. He threw his head back, closing his eyes and grinding his teeth as he snarled with fierce desire.

“I’m, I’m going to, to cum,” he stuttered. “Can I cum?”

She put her hand over his hand, gripping hard and she pumped his cock with him. She slid her free hand up over his mouth to silence him.

“You shouldn’t,” she teased. “You’ll make a mess on me!”

She pressed her thumb tip under the glans of his cock, digging into the pink flesh with her nail adding some sweet pain to his torment. She pulled his foreskin back in one hard movement of her wrist and he cried out into her palm as his body locked into a spasm of ecstasy. Hot cum spattered her thighs and ran down her stocking tops.

When his climax subsided, she released him and fixed him in a cold stare. “Pass me a towel please.”

He watched her wipe her golden skin and black stocking tops with the soft towel. He leaned back against the wall, his legs shaking.

She grinned and threw the towel into an open waste basket to one side of the room and then looked at him as she smoothed her skirt down over her thighs and down to her knees.

“Goodnight boy!” She waved, and she spun on her heels and left the room.

xxx

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