I had been on the road most of the day, having travelled almost six hundred kilometers in an effort to visit some of my most important clients. So, it was a relief when I arrived at the motel and was able to check in and get into my room.

After checking my e-mails, I decided to head to the bar for a relaxing drink before contemplating what to choose from the restaurant menu.

The bar was nearly empty, with only the barmaid and one other guest in attendance. This was good – I really felt that I needed some peace and quiet after driving and speaking with clients all day. Sitting at the bar, I ordered a scotch and dry (no ice) and appreciatively watched the attractive barmaid prepare my drink.

She was a lovely looking girl, not young, but had that well-formed, mature look about her. She was wearing a white blouse and a black skirt which reached to about mid-thigh level. It seemed she was also wearing black pantyhose. I watched as she reached for a shelf which was above her head level so that she could select the scotch brand that I had requested. As she reached up, the hem of her skirt rode up her thigh, revealing the fact that she was actually not wearing pantyhose at all. No, I saw that she was wearing stockings – a delightful revelation! As her skirt worked its way even higher, I could see that she was also wearing a suspender belt, since I could clearly see one of the suspender strap clips placed at the side of her left thigh.

The other guest was also watching, and he turned his gaze from the barmaid's legs and winked at me, giving me a thumbs-up signal at the same time. Obviously, he appreciated the sight as much as I had. I smirked at him, before accepting my drink from the showgirl.

I took the scotch and dry ginger to a table and sat down, one eye remaining on the barmaid to see if any further shows would be forthcoming.

The other guest sauntered over to my table and asked me if I minded if he sat down. No problem – I smiled and indicated the second chair which was placed at my table.

“Travelled far today?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied, “far enough to justify this drink.”

We began a casual conversation which focused on trivial items such as distances one had to travel in Australia, the weather, the reliability of various motor vehicles and the attributes of motels available for travelers. After ordering another couple of drinks we continued the conversation.

It turned out that his name was James and had spent the day travelling in order to see his elderly mother who lived in the local township. He had decided to stay at the motel since there was insufficient room at his mother’s home unit – it appeared that he preferred to have his own space and privacy. He was a pleasant enough fellow, probably in his early to mid-sixties, and was quite easy to talk to.

It ended up that we dined together, as well as sharing a bottle of good red wine.

The conversation, now fueled by a slight overindulgence of alcohol, turned to the attributes of the barmaid, who also performed the job of waitress in the small restaurant.

“What did you think of her clothing – ummm, underclothing choice?” asked James.

“I definitely approve,“ I replied. “Should be more of it.”

“I agree,” he said, “mind you, it’s not her that particularly excites me - it’s what she’s wearing.”

At this point, my ears pricked up.

“Yes,” I agreed, “that type of underwear certainly makes things more interesting. I have always liked that elegant, feminine look.”

James replied, “Funny how there seems to be plenty of exotic underwear for women, but not for men. Wonder why?”

“Oh, men can access that type of underwear if they want to,” I said. “It’s just a matter of choosing, then going to get it. Another drink?”

He agreed, so I went to the bar and ordered two more drinks, despite feeling reasonably tipsy at the time.

After sitting down, he asked me, “What do you mean by choosing and going to get it?”

Sipping my drink, I pondered on how to reply.

“Well, if something appeals to you - for example, nylon stockings or panties - then you just go to a lingerie store, choose the style and colour that you want, and hey presto, there you go.”

“Yes,” he replied, “but you wouldn’t wear them in public?” It was more a question than a statement.

“No,” I said, “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You wouldn’t do that in public?” he asked. “Then where would you wear it?”

“In private, of course,” I replied.

“But why?” he persisted.

Now, I felt my heart rate increase. Was I about to reveal something about myself, something private, something potentially embarrassing, to a complete stranger?

“Well”, I said, “I guess I’m a bit like you. It’s not so much the girl in the underwear as the underwear itself that I find, well, attractive. Don’t get me wrong, I do like a girl or woman in feminine underwear. But I like the underwear as well.”

“Hmmm,” he mused, “so, have you ever worn ladies' underwear?”

I hesitated. Should I admit to my weakness and reveal to James some of the things that I did in order to obtain some sort of gratification? What were the chances of us meeting again? Remote, I convinced myself, so I will tell all…

“Well, yes I have, actually,” I admitted.

“Wow!” he exclaimed. “When did you do that?”

“Um, I actually do it fairly often.” I was feeling a little anxious now. Had I gone too far?

“Recently?” he asked.

I took a deep breath. “Yes, well, I actually have some rather interesting items of underwear with me at the moment.”

Seemingly bemused, James asked me, “You mean you have them with you at this motel? Like you have brought them with you?”

I smiled and nodded.

“I’ll show them to you, if you like?” I suggested. Shit, I must be drunk.

“Oh, yes,” he replied, “that I would love to see…”

I looked at my watch. 10.00pm – not too late.

“Well,” I whispered, “if you can give me about twenty minutes, then come to my motel unit – it’s number 22-- then I’ll give you a quick look at what I’ve got with me.”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied. “Okay, see you in about twenty minutes.”

I stood up, and with a quick wave, left the restaurant and headed back to my motel unit.

It was nicely appointed suite – I always booked the executive rooms, since they are well furnished with comfortable armchairs, as well as a dining table and nice chairs. This particular suite even had its own bar.

I quickly stripped and got into the shower, my hands trembling ever so slightly. No, I tell a lie; my hands were trembling a lot. I stepped from the shower, dried myself quickly and donned the complimentary white bathrobe which was made available for house guests.

I found the small valise which contained the treasured items that I had lovingly packed for this trip and placed it carefully on the table top.

It seemed that only a few seconds had passed when there was a quiet, gentle knock at the door. I opened the door, and there stood James, looking slightly nervous. I beckoned him in, and he entered the room, but not before quickly looking around to check that he was unobserved.

He looked around. “Nice room,” he said, “a bit bigger than mine.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “I quite like these suites – very comfortable. Now, come over here, and I’ll show you a couple of things.”

I led him to the table and waved toward the valise. I invited him to open it and have a look inside.

He unclasped the mechanism which kept the case closed and carefully lifted the lid. Looking inside, he lifted out the first garment.

“Oh, yes,” he exclaimed. “Now, I do like that.”

He was holding up a pair of black lace panties, a pair I had acquired from a favourite lingerie store which was located not far from my home. I particularly liked these panties, as they were what one might describe as “crotchless”.

Setting the knickers down on the table top, James removed the next item and seemed quite delighted with what he saw. It was a black satin basque which incorporated a brassiere as well as four suspender straps which were designed to hold up nylon stockings. The front of the basque was embroidered with white, intricate designs, and was adorned with delicate white lace ruffles around the bottom hem of the garment. In truth, the basque was simply a rather sophisticated girdle, and certainly very feminine. The principal feature that made if different from a girdle was that it was an open garment and fastened at the back with fourteen clips, in a very similar way that a brassiere clipped on at the back

I demonstrated the other items that had travelled with me These included a pair of sheer, black nylon stockings which were fully fashioned with seams and deep black, opaque stocking tops. And, of course, I showed him my pair of black, velvet high-heeled slippers, beautifully decorated with tiny white bows.

At this point, I noticed that James had developed a very noticeable swelling at the front of his trousers. It was clear that he liked what he saw and was becoming quite aroused.

“Were you, um, planning on wearing these tonight?” he asked me.

“I was, actually,” I replied, “just as soon as I got back from the restaurant.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this,” said James, “but, I would love to see you in that lingerie…”

“Well, okay,” I replied. “I wasn’t planning on company, but if you want to have a look, take a seat, help yourself to a drink, and I’ll be back in a moment.”

Taking the valise with me, I slipped into the separate bedroom, placed the small case on my bed, and slipped off the bathrobe. I was now stark naked.

I stepped into the crotchless panties, easing them up my legs until my bottom was comfortably encased in the beautiful black lace. I then manipulated my cock and balls until they protruded from the open gusset of the knickers. It was at this point that I felt a stirring in my loins, and my penis had certainly started to swell.

Next came the basque. Positioning the garment on the bed, I painstakingly fastened the clips at the back. When all were secure, I lifted it by the delicate shoulder straps and stepped into the lovely piece of underwear. After I had eased it up over my hips, I positioned the straps so that they were comfortably lying over my shoulders.

I then sat down on the bed, and after removing the black nylon stockings from my valise, I eased each of them over my legs, then secured each of them with the suspender straps which were affixed to the lower edge of my sensual girdle.

I placed the velvet high-heeled slippers on my feet, then stood and examined my image in the bedroom mirror. Satisfied by what I saw, I turned slowly, watching myself. I needed to adjust the stockings to ensure that the seams ran straight up the back of my legs. After making sure that the suspender clips were secure and that my stocking tops were identically positioned on my legs, I reexamined myself, appreciating the way in which the embroidered suspenders and black stockings framed my hips.

Satisfied with my feminine appearance, I drew out the final item from the valise. It was a full-length, black silk negligee. I slipped this item on over my head and allowed it to drape itself over my body. It was slit on both sides and had a silk ribbon at each side at waist level. The slit edges of the negligee were brocaded with lovely, soft black lace, and the effect, together with the black lingerie, was more than erotic.

I slipped back into the bathrobe, tying it closed at the front, and, taking a deep breath, I opened the bedroom door and stepped into the motel room lounge.

James was seated in one of the armchairs, his back turned to me so that he did not see me enter the room. I sauntered over to him and positioned myself so that he could see me directly. To my amazement, I saw that he had removed his trousers and his jockey shorts and was leaning back in the chair with a very obvious and large erection looming from his groin.

I smiled and said, “I wasn’t expecting you to start without me.”

He grinned back and replied, “Just the thought of you changing into that lingerie made me a bit hard. So, I thought that I would just become a little more comfortable for the show. Hope you don’t mind?”

“No, not at all,” I said, untying the belt that held the bathrobe closed.

I continued, “So, what do you think?”

I slowly opened the bathrobe and watched as James’ eyes widened as he gaped at me.

“Oh, yes,” he gasped “very nice indeed. Are you going to take the bathrobe off?”

“Yes,” I replied, “if you want me to?”

I let the robe fall from my shoulders onto the carpeted floor, then executed a slow pirouette for him.

After completing the turn, I again stood in front of him.

He indicated the negligee and asked, “Can I touch it?”

“Uh huh,” I assented and stepped a little closer to him.

He placed his right hand at the front panel of the negligee and started to caress my belly. His left hand joined in and very soon he had worked his way up and was gently rubbing my breasts through the silk material of the negligee and the satin of the basque.

His hands travelled down to my hips and, exerting a little pressure, made me turn so that I was standing with my back to him. I felt his hands go to my bottom, one hand on each buttock. Gently and slowly, he started to rub my bum in a circular motion.

By now, my cock was fully tumescent and was positively quivering with excitement.

His left hand grasped the split edge of the negligee, and he pulled the back skirt to the side, revealing my bottom which was adorned in the black lace of the panties.

His hand went down to my stocking tops from behind and I felt him fingering the suspender strap clips. With a slight shock, I felt him move his right hand between my thighs, his fingers coming to a rest on my balls. He caressed them gently, then advanced his hand so that he could grasp the hilt of my penis. Holding my cock gently, he moved his closed hand along its shaft until he arrived at the head.

“Is that what you want me to do?” he asked. “It really does feel very good.”

“Yes,” I replied, “I do love to have my clitoris played with.”

“Okay, then,” he said. “Why don’t you turn around and I’ll see if we can make that clit a bit bigger?”

After he had removed his hand, I turned yet again so that my now rock-hard cock was causing the exotic nightie to bulge at the front. He drew the negligee to one side and gasped at the sight of my swollen clit.

“Do you normally finger your own clitoris?” he asked. “Or do you prefer to be fingered off?”

“If you would like to finger me off, I would like that,” I replied, “but I would like to sit down whilst you play with me.”

He stood up from the armchair and indicated that I should sit in his place.

So I sat, and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. Looking down, I was delighted at the sight of my stockinged legs and suspender straps with my velvet shoes. Added to the spectacle was my huge clitoris protruding from the lacy gusset of my panties.

He knelt, took my clitoris in his right hand and started to massage it. Up the shaft he went, stopping just short of the head of my cock, then back down again to my balls. His left hand appeared and he moved it so that he was cupping my balls.

I pushed my hips forward and moaned, “I think I’m going to cum, especially if you keep doing what you’re doing.”

He smiled and said, “I love to watch a lady orgasm.”

With that, he increased the speed of his rubbing, this time including the head of my cock in his manipulations.

Faster and faster he masturbated me, and I could feel the sensual crescendo approaching.

Then I climaxed and watched as my cum spurted from the eye of my throbbing clitoris. His rubbing slowed as he continued to milk all the semen from my cock.

Now breathing heavily, he rose to feet and moved so that his engorged cock was just in front of my face.

“Now, let me sit down,” he said, “and you can do the same for me…”

We changed places, and I squatted down in front of him. I grasped his enormous penis and, with my thumb resting along the base of his cock, I started to massage him. I made sure that each time my hand travelled the distance along his shaft, that my thumb gently pressed against the underside of his penis head.

“Harder,” he asked, “please, harder and faster…”

I increased the speed of my masturbating action and felt his cock start to convulse. With a moan, he started to cum, and his cock erupted with streams of white milky fluid jetting from the head. Such was the force of his orgasm, that his semen spurted high, and covered my nylon-clad legs, as well as the front of my delicate girdle.

I continued to gently rub his cock until I was certain that he had completed his orgasm.

Still holding his cock, I asked, “Well, was it worth it?”

Smiling, he replied, “Oh yes, it makes the travel time well worth it…”

And so ended the evening – and a very pleasurable evening it was.

We still occasionally meet and repeat the experience. On these occasions, I make sure that I have a different collection of underwear.

James has started to wear lingerie as well, and I do enjoy helping him dress up as a lady.

Travelling has become fun!