This story is posted on the Literotica website. Do not repost anywhere else without the author's consent. This story reflects some of the inner machinations of a mind that refuses to rest. This story, as the website implies, includes sex of a graphic nature. How important are a lady's stockings? In this story you will find they are very important. So buckle...
Lorraine looks good in stockings. She always has. She has great legs. I guess that might have something to do with her running the best part of twenty miles a week, week in week out, which she has done since college and throughout our marriage, even on our honeymoon. The locals in Goa loved watching the white woman with long, jet black hair, running each day...
There was a woman named Alison, who was a TV producer. I was assisting her in some research for a program she was producing, and she had come by my office several times, for some useful discussions. She was friendly and charming, but always stopped short of being flirtatious. She may have seen my wedding ring, which was hard to miss. But none the less, I did...
I don't mind admitting here that I'm a whore. I'm now 62 and since I was 19 I've been sucking and fucking men for money as a 'hobby'. It started when I was at university in London. I'd been sexually active for a couple of years and had by then I was quite experienced. And I'd discovered that men would jump through all sorts of hoops to get into my knickers...
*This is a re-write of an earlier story which continues in to the next chapters. ***** I was lost deep in thought as I worked on the month end reports for the VP when I heard my office door softly opens and then shut. Curious as to who would be bothering me at this time of the month, I glanced up from my cluttered desk to see who was disturbing me when I...
I was lost deep in thought as I worked on the month end reports for the VP when I heard my office door softly opens and then shut. Curious as to who would be bothering me at this time of the month, I glanced up from my cluttered desk to see who was disturbing me when I saw my girlfriend Meghan standing at the door to my office dressed to kill, or maybe I sho...
There was a woman named Angela, who was a TV producer. I was assisting her in some research for a program she was producing, and she had come by my office several times, for some useful discussions. She was friendly and charming, but always stopped short of being flirtatious. She may have seen my wedding ring, which was hard to miss. But none the less, I did...
The contents were now strewn on his bed. Michael decided to take a bath, and while the water was filling, he undressed, his mind filled with a compulsion to express his dark, unfulfilled feminine self. Naked, he walked with purpose to the cabinet that housed his shaving supplies, picked up a razor, some shaving cream and put them on the side of the bath. The...
Simon rang the door bell, prompt at 2 pm, somewhere between nervous and excited and wondered quite how he had reached this point. He had met Sally in, of all places, a crowded cafe at King's Cross when all the trains were late. She'd pulled up a stool next to him , asked if it was okay to sit and started chatting. She was so easy to talk to, middle aged, n...
This took place in 1966. A time when the fashion called for women too wear girdles, garters, and shiny ultra sheer reinforced heel and toe nylons, spiked heel pumps/mules daily! A time when my fetish for nylons was young and in full bloom! You little pervert! I jumped up, dropped the high heel pump in my hand that I had held over my nose and I turned around...