There is nothing sexier than stockings and high heels. Well, that's my opinion anyway, and I'm sure it's the opinion of the majority of men too. My friend Marie and I are always having this discussion, the things we find sexiest about the opposite sex and underwear is the one we tend to agree on.
I'd been with Ted a couple of times now, and I thought it was time I upped the ante. He'd had two girlfriends since we'd been rehearsing the play, so if I wanted to keep him I had to keep him interested.
At the insistence of Marie I had bought myself some sexy lingerie. Never one to do things by halves I had ordered the bustier, some stockings and pair of 'fuck me' high heels. The kind that wouldn't look out of place on a stripper.
I spent the next three days having to beat my parents to the post-box and the doorbell in case my package arrived, and I would have to do some explaining.
There was a knock on the front door Tuesday morning, when I was the only one in the house. I rushed to open it and gave my best cheery smile to the courier as I snatched the parcel from his hands, hastily scrawled my signature and rushed back inside eager to open it.
The dogs were going ballistic, as they always think every parcel is for them, as I ripped open the plastic and plunged my hand inside. The first thing I pulled out was the bustier. It was covered in scarlet lace and had two moulded cups for my double d's. There was a satin strap which went around the back of my neck and the body was tailored for my hourglass waist. At the bottom were a set of garter straps and in another packet was a red lace thong. My heart pounded in excitement. All of this stuff was so sexy, so unlike me. The stockings were sheer, with lace at the top and a seam at the back, while the shoes were four inches high, black and patent.
An idea was starting to form in my mind. We had a rehearsal tonight but Ted would be working at the college all day. I had the house to myself. What if Ted was all hot and bothered before we even got to rehearsal?
I hurried upstairs to get changed. No matter how gorgeous a bustier is it never looks attractive putting it on. Once I had fastened it, it looked fabulous. It hugged the right places and pushed my boobs up. I slipped the thong on until it felt comfortable and then started to attach the stockings. These always look sexy. You can't not be sexy with a pair of stockings. I put my foot on the edge of the bath and rolled them up slowly, keeping them flat and tight, careful not to snag. They felt fantastic against my skin, like a second layer and when they were hooked to the straps they felt even more sexy. I picked up a tube of red lipstick and coated my lips. I'd never looked at myself and thought 'wow' until today.
The last piece of the ensemble were the 'fuck me' shoes. They were the perfect end to the outfit and I stood tall, graceful and horny as hell. My plan was to wear this all day. The only problem was letting the dogs out, but I had a dressing gown and a pair of flats on standby for then. Throughout the day, I would send Ted pictures of parts of my body, teasing, never letting him see all of me until tonight.
I picked up my phone and started with a picture of the top of my left stocking with the strap. I sent it with the message: 'Good morning, hope this gets the blood flowing.' With a few kisses sneaked on at the end.
The reply was almost instantaneous. 'Is that you? What are you wearing?'
Of course it's me! Who else is it going to be? He's kissed that part of my body enough times, he should recognise it.
'You'll have to work it out,' I texted. 'You get your next clue soon!'
I wanted to jump up and down like an excited school girl, but not only would I break my ankle, I would probably fall out of my bustier. My heart was pounding, palms slightly sweaty and I could feel myself getting wet. This thong would be saturated before I even got to rehearsal.
I went back to my bedroom and opened the top drawer of my bedside cabinet, where all my 'play things' were kept. There were two vibrators, alongside some lube which tasted like bubblegum and some chocolate body paint. My hand hovered over the larger of my two vibrators. I wasn't that hard core. It was a soft tipped bullet. Should I use it now, satisfy myself immediately? Or should I be patient and wait, make that experience with Ted tonight even more intense?
I took a picture of my left breast, encased in the red lacy material. My nipple was aching to be touched and brushing my fingers over it sent tingles all over me.
I decided to get the vibrator out. I turned it onto a low setting and rested it on the outside of my underwear. This would keep me going but wouldn't tip me over the edge.
Alongside the picture I texted: 'Have you worked it out yet?'
The reply came as quick as a flash. 'No, but it's certainly doing the trick. I've got 15 minutes x' He sent me his own picture proving his statement.
It was then I changed my mind. I lifted my hips off of the bed and slid the thong down to my ankles, racking up the setting of my vibrator until it was on full power.
'You're making me so horny!' I texted with a picture of the vibrator's tip on my clit. It was so loud I was glad there was nobody else in the house. I could feel it beginning to work, my clit starting to swell.
'All I can think about is your lips on my cock.' Was his reply, and another picture of his engorged penis, his hand halfway down the shaft. I'd never done sexting before, but I was obviously doing it right.
'I love sucking your cock. I love the taste of you,' I hastily punched into the phone as I moved my vibrator deeper, towards my opening. But I'd already done enough. My vibrator hit that one sweet spot and my hips were jerking, the bed was creaking and I let out a long moan.
I glanced at the screen of my phone, a new message from Ted. 'Sweet Jesus you're good.' I gather that meant he'd just experienced what I had. The picture that followed was evidence enough. I sent him a picture of my vibrator covered in my juices then glanced at the clock. It was only 10:34. Rehearsal wasn't until seven! How was I going to keep from pleasuring myself until then?
Throughout the day I sent more pictures, of the 'fuck me' shoes, my bottom (arguably my best feature) and my red lips. But I was a good girl, I refrained from going near my top drawer.
Neither of my parents would be back before I left for rehearsal, so I stayed in the bustier all day and lounged about the house. It was only at six 'o' clock that I thought I should probably put some clothes on before my friend Flora came to pick me up.
I slipped a white 80s themed t-shirt over the bustier and a black skater skirt over my hips. Once fastened it enhanced my waist even more. The white shirt also showed some of the red lace underneath and if I bent forward the tops of the stockings would be visible under my skirt. I decided to keep my lipstick on, despite it being out of character but the one thing I would have to change were the shoes. As gorgeous as they were I still had to do my job, which consisted of moving heavy boxes and manhandling props. The 'fuck me' shoes were hardly practical. So I slipped into a pair of my trusty converse and sent Ted another message: 'See you soon x'
'Will you be wearing it tonight?' he replied.
'You'll have to wait and see!' I said.
The thought of going out with this bustier on underneath my clothes was really exciting me, as if I wasn't already excited enough. But before I knew it, there was a knock on my door.
Whenever I opened my door to Flora she was always peering at it, as if unsure of whether I lived there or not. But when I appeared, her face transformed into a wide smile.
"Hello Darlin', I love the outfit!" she said, marching off towards her car. Oh, if she only knew.
I slipped into the passenger seat, careful to pull my skirt down and began chatting to her, like normal.
"No Callum today?" I asked. Callum was her nine year old son.
"No, he's not feeling well. We can go to the pub tonight if you like?"
Because I relied on lifts to get me to and from rehearsal I didn't often get to go to the pub. It was hardly appropriate to take a child to a pub on a school night. So if a chance arose I grabbed it with both hands.
"That would be awesome, if you don't need to get back," I said.
"No, Andy's looking after the kids," she said.
My phone beeped and I opened the message without thinking. I'd gone into autopilot after today.
It read: 'I can't wait to rip it off you!'
My hand was on my lap and Flora happened to glance over just at the exact moment I didn't want her to. I saw her eyebrows go up and I felt my cheeks flush red. The text could hardly be explained away innocently.
"Who's that from?" she asked with a smirk and a little giggle.
"No one," I said, although I didn't even believe it myself.
"It blatantly is, and it's someone I know, otherwise you would have just told me their name!"
I cursed my brain for being so sluggish, come on, think of something, quickly! "No, it's not," was all I could think of.
"It's someone from drama, isn't it!?" she gasped. "Who is it? Is it Gavin?"
"No," I said, my cheeks now as red as the bustier concealed beneath my clothes.
"It's not Damien?"
"Don't be ridiculous, he's a little boy!" He was seventeen, but he was too young for me.
"Well come on then, tell me!" she cried. We were nearly there and I knew she wouldn't let this go.
"It's Ted," I mumbled.
She let out a massive laugh. "Oh my God! You dark horse!"
"Just don't tell anyone!" I said quickly.
"Don't worry your secret is safe with me," she said with a smile, as she pulled into a parking space.
As we arrived they were unloading Doreen's car which was full of props. Flora has a bad back so she went straight inside while I helped Doreen and those that were outside. I hadn't seen Ted yet, but I knew he was here somewhere.
I picked up one of the boards and headed inside, through the double doors. Then I saw him. He was holding the second one open. All I could hear was the blood thrum past my ears and I felt my cheeks start to redden. I must admit I was no good at this discreet flirting thing.
“Hi,” I said, with a small smile and a nod.
His eyes were glinting with that knowledge, the knowledge that he knew more about me than any other person in this room. His eyes wandered vaguely down to my breasts and his smile grew broader. He didn’t speak, he just nodded as I walked into the hall and deposited the board just inside the door.
Within seconds of me putting it down Shona threw her arms around me.
“Hiya,” she said, with a small squeal. Shona was a pretty girl, aged nineteen. She had wavy brown hair and big blue eyes. I was always happy to see her.
“Hey, how’s work?” I said, carrying on our regular small talk until Doreen arrived.
She gathered everyone’s attention. “Okay folks, Act Five Scene Four, please. The final scene!”
I set to work, putting the blocks in place and directing the household into what props needed to be brought on. Then I grabbed a chair, my script and sat myself down to watch the masters at work.
There was a lot of shock, ‘Hero that is dead!’, a lot of humour and then some dancing. I’d seen Shona dancing with Ted before, but then our relationship was just a figment of my imagination. Now, the thought of them holding hands made my insides churn. I was jealous, I hated seeing the two of them together. I loved watching him, but made the effort to observe the other couples dancing because of the way it made me feel. That was when I knew I needed him, right now.
Don Pedro, Ted’s character was in all of this scene, which made it hard for him to slink off like we had before, but as soon as we took five minutes, he darted off towards our favourite spot and I swiftly followed.
“I hate watching you dance with her,” I whispered, as he took my hand and led me inside the toilet, locking the door behind us. He pushed me against the wall and his lips locked with mine. Tasting him, covered my body in goose bumps and I loved the feel of his trimmed beard against my skin.
I let my hands wander under his clothes, feeling his warm skin. His fingers were already on the catch of my skirt. He unfastened it and it dropped to the ground leaving me standing there in my thong and stockings. He traced the top of my stockings and then with one quick motion whipped the t-shirt off me. I was standing there in just my underwear, and my tatty converse, but we’ll overlook that.
“After the texts you sent me all day,” he said, stepping back from me and delving into his pocket. “I thought I would be a bit kinky too.” He produced two sets of handcuffs. They glinted in the dull fluorescent light.
Without waiting for a response he took my wrists and cuffed one around one of the metal poles next to the disabled toilet and the other to a pole near the doorway. I couldn’t move from this spot, I was pinned. And my clothes were too far away to be reached.
He moved close to me, so I could feel his breath on my skin, then gave me a long hard kiss, his tongue intertwining with mine. His right hand brushed against my breast, the nipple standing at full attention. Then he grinned at me.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” he whispered into my ear. Then he left me there, handcuffed to the wall and aching to be touched.
It felt like hours, waiting there until someone noticed I was gone, but it could only have been about fifteen minutes. I kept stretching my foot out, seeing if I could reach my clothes, but they were still a few inches away. Not that I could pick them up with my hands cuffed like this.
My heart leapt when I heard footsteps and a familiar voice. “Hello?” It was Shona.
I called her name as loudly as I dare. “I’m in here!”
She followed my voice, and her eyes widened even more than I thought possible when she came into the bathroom and saw me in the state of undress.
“Oh my God!” she cried.
“I am really sorry, but I need your help,” I said. I felt so embarrassed, but I needed to get back to rehearsal. I gestured to the handcuffs. “They should just pop open,” I explained.
She stepped forward and fumbled with the cuffs until I heard a metallic clink and was released from my confines.
“Thank you!” I gasped, gathering up my clothes and hurrying to get dressed.
“Who left you handcuffed to the wall?” she asked, the shock now replaced with a glint of humour.
“I can’t tell you,” I said.
“Oh come on! I just saved you!” she protested.
I glanced in the mirror, checked my lipstick was in place. “Ted,” I said quickly. “Let’s get back!” I added, racing off before she had a chance to reply.
Back in the hall I didn’t make eye contact with Ted and just carried on with what I was doing. The handcuffs were now stuffed in my pocket and I was conscious of them rattling while I walked. I didn’t know what his plan had been but since I was back here it obviously hadn’t worked. And what was more, I still wanted him inside me, I needed him to make me come!
After rehearsal, we headed to the pub as planned. The others were ahead of me, so Ted hung back and fell into to step with me.
“Who rescued you?” he asked.
“Shona,” I replied, pretending to be angry.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, taking my free hand and squeezing it.
“You’ve got a lot of making up to do,” I said, but relenting and returning his smile.
We were the last two through the door. The others had already crowded around several tables at the left hand side of the pub.
“Drink?” he asked, heading for the bar, while I took one of the two seats remaining.
“Please,” I replied. I started chatting to the person on my right before Ted returned with two glasses of champagne. I felt my eyebrows disappear into my hair.
“Part of my apology,” he whispered.
“Champagne?” cried Doreen from the other end of the table. “Are we celebrating?” The whole room must have heard her. I glanced at Ted, wondered how he’d work his way out of this one.
“It’s my birthday. I’m thirty eight today,” he said, quickly, not a hint of embarrassment. Why couldn’t I be like that? There was a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’, then Ted added. “Let’s make it champagne all round!”
I watched in amazement as Ted ordered three more bottles of champagne and waved his credit card around. This charade was kind of getting out of hand. When he sat back down next to me his face was a wide, infectious smile. He plonked his wallet on the table and started talking to Damien who was sitting to his left.
I sipped my champagne, the bubbles going up my nose and rested my hand on his jean-covered thigh. He didn’t react, so I moved my hand further towards his crotch. I swiftly unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped his flies, working my way inside him underwear until I reached warm flesh. I fingered it gently, not wanting the rest of the table aware that I was playing with him, and he began to swell in my hand.
I was listening to a conversation, but wasn’t actually taking part, so I could concentrate on what I was doing. But I took immense pleasure in watching Ted try to control his face, as he grew hard under the table. I kept up a steady rhythm, up and down, until I heard a sharp intake of breath and released my grip on his cock. Damien glanced at him, startled but Ted just smiled.
“Indigestion,” he explained. “I’m just nipping to the loo.”
He tucked himself back inside his jeans the best he could, gave me a look I knew all too well and dashed off. I made some conversation with Damien and noticed Ted had left his wallet on the table. I opened it up and quickly found his driving license. It wasn’t all a game, today really was Ted’s birthday! I had picked the perfect day to wear my corset and indulge in some kinky fun.
“Be right back,” I said to Damien, as he was in mid sentence and rushed outside.
Ted was leaning against the wall. “You took your time,” he joked.
We were hidden from view if anyone chose to nip outside, but if they came round the corner they would see us straight away. But we didn’t have time to move and I couldn’t care less.
I pushed Ted firmly against the wall, gave all my attention to his jeans and then lowered myself to the floor. I enveloped him in my mouth, enjoying the sigh of satisfaction from Ted’s lips.
I loved giving head, I loved the power it gave me. I was totally in control of the person attached to the cock my tongue was currently wrapped around. I felt for the ridges and flicked my tongue across the head, paying special attention to underneath. Ted’s hands were in my hair, caressing the back of my neck, urging me deeper. I conceded willingly, opening up my throat, sucking as hard as I could. My hands were on the waistband of his jeans, ready for a quick cover up if needs be. His hips were jolting and jerking, his grasp on my hair growing tighter. His breathing grew uneven as he gasped my name to the stars and his seed erupted out of him. I drew back and let it fill my mouth, swallowing what I could.
As soon as I could speak I whispered, “That was your first present, birthday boy.”
He laughed and helped me up from the floor. I stood close to him and helped him adjust himself, then leaned against him, my head on his chest.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“Because I have a surprise,” he replied, wrapping his arms around my chilly shoulders. I glanced up at him, waiting for him to continue. “I’ve booked us into a hotel for the night.”
I felt myself getting wet with the anticipation of what was to come. A whole night with Ted in a hotel room, just to ourselves. I couldn’t wait.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/oral-sex/the-birthday-boy.aspx">The Birthday Boy</a>