Karen's Toes in Silky Wet Hose

"I did something naughty before we left the party." she confessed. "Want to see what it is?"

I looked at her suspiciously. But, since anything "naughty" Karen does is usually awfully damn fun, I quickly nodded.

Barely able to contain herself, she slowly slipped off her high heels. While I've always loved watching Karen take ANY clothing off, I found myself wincing as I watched those heels wriggle precariously close to my penis. The previous vision of a popping and hissing woody rolled thunderously back into my brain. Luckily, those heels never connected with anything other than my trousers, and even then only in passing. Karen remained true to her word of not wanting to harm anything she wanted to play with in the not too distant future.

My sigh of relief turned to a sigh of admiration as my eyes embraced Karen's now shoeless feet. Even in the soft, sparse glow of the dashboard lights and the occasional glare of a swiftly passing street lamp, I could see the recently painted toenails peeking at me devilishly through the ultra sheer nylon. She wiggled them

for my benefit. Her feet were as sexy as ever, but I could see nothing "naughty" wiggling there on my lap.

"Honey," I said, "your feet are as gorgeous as ever, but I hardy see anything naughty, other than the fact that by teasing me with them now, you're probably going to make me drive into some poor fool's living room at one in the morning."

"Oh, it's probably hard to see," she giggled. She held one foot up, wiggling her toes just under my chin. Though I still didn't see anything out of the ordinary, I nearly drove us off the road. Karen, bless her evil little

heart, didn't even seem to notice. One thing about Karen - when she had an agenda, NOTHING stopped her from carrying it out. It was exactly that kind of perseverance that had won her tonight's award.

"Hon," I said, trying to concentrate on the road, "are you just trying to tease me with your feet? Why not wait and do that at home? I already said I'm willing to suck your toes until they shrivel up like little raisins. Or are you TRYING to get us killed?"

"Not at all, silly. Look CLOSE."

I had to hit the brakes. Those five dancing toes moved up so close to my face that the middle one was resting lightly on the bridge of my nose. I smelled nylon...and something else. That was it. I had to pull over to the shoulder of the road or I'd definitely have killed us. I slammed the gearshift into park so hard and fast that the

car screeched, lurched forward and back, then seemed to wheeze and groan as it shuddered to a halt.

"I don't believe it," I said. "You didn't...?!"

Karen was laughing now, so proud and full of herself. "Oh, yes...I sure did, sweety."

I sniffed at her toes. There was no mistaking it. With the car stopped alongside the road, I could now afford to grab her foot. I held it up in front of my face, in the light of a nearby street lamp. Up close, in the light, with the

car stopped and able to concentrate, I could see what she was talking about. She had indeed been "naughty," so deliciously, wickedly naughty. I was so giddily, insanely proud of her! Such imagination! Such ingenious

improvisation! Such...erotic style!

"Want another drink, stud of mine?" she asked, nearly squealing with the effort of holding back a laugh.

I looked over at her, smiling, surprised by her impish ingenuity. Though, in retrospect, I shouldn't have been. Karen, if anything, was always imaginative and creative. That fact was driven home sharply as I sat there in

my car, in the middle of the night, beneath a lonely street lamp, staring at a wiggling, gleeful, nyloned foot.

"I just love a nice white wine, don't you, honey?" she giggled. "C'mon, have some. It won't raise your blood alcohol level enough to get you into trouble, I promise."

Holding her foot by the silky heel, I touched her toes with my fingers, feeling the wetness there. I stifled a laugh as I squeezed her second toe between my thumb and forefinger. When I released it, my fingers came away wet. I sniffed my fingers. I licked them. Sure enough...a delightful Chardonnay. I shook my head at Karen,

even as I grinned from ear to ear.

"Am I naughty or what?" she asked. "Just before we left, while you were talking with Steve Matthews about football, and everyone else was looking away, I put your glass of wine on the floor, kicked off one of my shoes, and dunked my toes in the wine. It felt really nice...so cool and refreshing on my little piggies. I just sat there and soaked my toes for a few minutes. Then I pretended to get something from my purse and brought your glass back up to the table. No one was the wiser. I tell you, everyone was so wrapped up in their conversations, I could've taken off my panties and poured wine all over my pussy, and no one would've noticed."

"Oh, now trust me...THAT I would've noticed!" I assured her, though I was still amazed at her mischievous little act of foot dunking.

"Anyway," she continued, "a few minutes later I did the same with my other foot, though by then most of your wine was soaked up and I had to use my own glass."

A revelation hit me. "Hey!" I THOUGHT my wine disappeared kinda quick. I didn't THINK I drank it that fast!" Karen laughed like hell at my wide eyed face as that revelation came to the surface. Faking indignation, I continued, "Hey, now...I wanted to DRINK that wine. It was excellent wine."

With a wicked grin, she replied, "Well, you still CAN drink it, sweetie. It's all right here on my sexy little toes, sweetly soaked into my nylons. Go ahead, have some."

Instantly, all ten of her wet toes were pressed against my cheeks and lips. I felt the wetness, smelled the gentle mixture of wine and nylon, and the faint, lingering memory of warm shoe leather. My eyelids started to flutter, even though the admiring eyes beneath them wanted to feast on the cherry-colored toes as they boldly displayed themselves beneath the gossamer material.

My heart was pounding, my chest heaving. I could feel blood rushing through my temples...and my penis. I held Karen's feet by the heels and stared with glazing eyes at her soft, sweet, nylon-and-wine-covered toes as they cavorted just in front of my longing lips.

"C'mon, hon," Karen whispered in the midnight glare of the nearby street lamp, "have a taste. You've stopped the car. It's the middle of the night. No one's around. No more excuses, now....open up." Brushing the tips of her wiggling toes along my lips, she whispered erotically, "Bon appetite."

As had happened once already that night, my mouth was on her toes in a heartbeat. I found myself hungrily slurping them, sucking the wine from the wet nylon. I forced my tongue between her toes, even through the stubbornness of the resilient nylon. By pushing the nylon into the spaces between her toes with my tongue, I was able to isolate each toe like a nylon covered treat and suck them one by one, in addition to taking them into my mouth in warm, wiggling clusters. I could feel the nylon on my lips and tongue, taste the Chardonnay, smell the mixed scents, feel the warmth of Karen's soles in my hands and on my face. I was in toe-devouring Heaven. For yours truly, everything in the universe had suddenly ceased to exist, except Karen's hot, tasty

feet, and my oh, so grateful mouth.

On those rare occasions when I had enough mental clarity to focus on my decadent damsel, she was lying back against the car door, eyes shut, magnificent breasts heaving, mouth hanging open, moaning. One hand she had buried beneath the low cut top of her slinky black dress, cupping one of her breasts, fingers teasing a rigid nipple. Her other hand had found its way up the side slit of her dress and was exploring excitedly in the moistness that was spreading like wildfire between her legs.

Needless to say, all that fixedly viewed self-stimulation only served to stoke my own furnace still further. I sucked Karen's toes like a starving animal, staring at her, watching her revel in her own body. When I finally took her foot out of my mouth, the stocking was a drenched mess, stretched and pulled mercilessly by my lips and tongue. It was twisted to one side, hanging wetly off her toes. Over her big toe and second toe, however, the silky material clung to each like two tiny black condoms - the nylon pushed deep down between them - each protecting its chosen toe. Those two toes alone held the nylon tightly to them, refusing to set it free, each cocooned in its sticky embrace. From her middle toe outward to the little toe, the nylon was a tangled, wet mess. I stared at all this dumbly, somehow taking great pride in the carnage my mouth had wrought upon the unsuspecting nylon. It was as if the nylon was trying to keep me from those tasty toes, but I would have none of it. I'd battled that lovely but stubborn material and come away...victorious!

By that time, there was much more going on that had captured my full attention. I had begun to enjoy Karen's rather heated fondling of herself. But even as I watched her hands roaming and playing, something in the back of my mind reminded me of a delicious fact. It seemed that both Karen and I had come to this realization at the same time, as well. Despite her self-absorbed condition, however, it was she who acted upon it first.

Just as my brain realized that there was indeed another foot available for oral Chardonnay removal and nylon wrecking, and my eager hands began to act on this revelation, a just as eager foot rushed sideways from where it had been squirming against my cheek, and propelled its five attention-seeking digits point blank at my

lips. The force of their mad, mouthward rush parted my lips before I even realized it, and her toes were wiggling happily in my mouth before I could even grab her foot. Once in there, however, I took over. In no time at all,

I was sucking another five nylon-encased toes free of tasty wine, totally mangling the foot of that stocking in the process.

In the course of sucking Karen's toes on that lonely stretch of highway, and watching her all but invade her own body, I reached a critical point...as critical as that point earlier where it was either stop or miss the party. I looked at the damage my mouth had done to Karen's two nyloned feet. I was mesmerized by the odd beauty

of the wet, stretched nylon over such gorgeous feet, almost as much as I was awed by the sight of my lady squirming and moaning on the uncomfortable front passenger seat. But, sadly, I knew we had to stop. This cramped automobile was no place to conduct the remainder of our evening. There was no way we could enjoy sex the way I wanted us to in that car. I had to think of something, fast.

Glancing at the clock on the dash, I was astonished to see that it was after 2 a.m. No wonder Karen was just about humping herself! Generally, if I sucked her toes for ten minutes, she was all over me, ripping my clothes off. So I could imagine what an hour of having her toes sucked must be doing to her!

Suddenly, Karen's head shot forward, her eyes opened wide, glaring. "And just WHY have you stopped sucking my toes, sir?" she asked. "Have I offended you somehow?" She was still touching herself...her chest still rising and falling sharply. The look of lusting madness slammed into me from her glazed, angrily slitted eyes. The malevolent stare in those eyes could've brought a horde of slavering, hell-bent barbarians to their knees. I swallowed hard as I prepared to try to reason with her.

"Hon, you know I'd happily suck your toes all night. But, well, look at us...all horned out in the car. You know as well as I do that we can't...um...finish things off in here. We should piece ourselves back together and get home as fast as possible. We can take care of things much better there. Don't you agree?"

"Listen to Mr.Calm and Collected here!" she said, not looking at all like she was in agreement. "I'm about three minutes away from an orgasm here! You DO remember that I LIKE orgasms, don't you? I was THIS close!" Her thumb and forefinger less than a quarter inch apart, thrust in my direction, indicated clearly the magnitude of my possible faux pas, and the reason for her evil countenance.

"I know, hon...so was I. But I want to really, REALLY have some great sex tonight. Let's not have our first orgasms of the night like THIS...in this uncomfortable car on the highway. C'mon, lets go home...and play THERE. Okay?"

Instantly - and wordlessly on Karen's part - I felt a warm, wet foot kneading away at the bulge in my pants. "You sure you want it that way?" she said, grinning wickedly as she toe massaged that substantial bulge.

I groaned, feeling my eyes wanting to roll back up into my head and allow that penile massage to come to fruition. But, despite the intense desire to unzip my pants and allow Karen's feet to send me to ecstasy, I nearly swallowed my entire Adam's apple, and suppressed that nagging, insistent urge. "Yes," I said, more a weak exhalation than an actual spoken thought, "I do want it that way. Believe me, if we wait a little longer, the sex will be absolutely awesome."

Karen's face was flushed crimson with lust. She gritted her teeth with the effort of reeling herself in. Slowly, she accepted that I was right - a victory in itself (or, perhaps, she was merely plotting sexual revenge). Her shoulders still slumped in disappointment, however. She resigned herself, reluctantly, to trusting my judgment. She closed her eyes and slowly got control of herself. When she removed her hand from between her legs, she waggled it at me angrily, menacingly...each snap of that finger a deadly threat.

"That's TWICE in one night you teased me with that mouth of yours. You OWE me plenty, mister! And I mean PLENTY! You got that?" Even though she seemed borderline psychotic, I could see the playfulness returning to her eyes. "You are going to sex me up BIG TIME, lover boy. Your ass is MINE tonight! If you even THINK of saying no to ANYTHING I suggest we do, that ass will be grass! Am I making myself clear, honeybear...snookums...dear heart...poopsie...sweetie?"

"Now, now, Karen," I tried to lighten the mood, "you know I'm ...."

"Drive!" she snarled, pointing out the windshield to the highway ahead. "I'm not going to tease you with my feet anymore. I'll be a good girl..for now. But know this. I'm only letting you live long enough so that I can jump

your sexy bones and use you like a manwhore. So, stomp on that gas pedal, hon. If YOU don't, I will." Then, looking down at the gnawed remains of her silky thigh highs, she added, "It seems you've ruined my stockings, anyway. It would seem silly to try to tease you with THESE at this point. But, once we get home....I OWN YOU! Got it?" She grinned at me. I could see her already planning.

"Yes, ma'am," I chuckled, reaching for the gearshift. It's always wise to say yes to deranged people.

Just as my hand firmly squeezed the shift, Karen bolted up and grabbed my face between her hands. I was surprised by the move, and briefly thought she'd changed her mind about sexing me right there in the car. But, instead, she thrust her sweet mouth against mine and sucked hard, shoving her tongue deep into my mouth. She kissed me hard like that for several minutes. By the time she was done, I could hardly breathe. My boner

was pounding on the back of my zipper like a cop trying to kick down a suspect's door.

Finally, she pulled away. Her eyes looked soft and wild at the same time. "Now drive," she said, "and get us home FAST. Or I'm going to rip your pants open and sit on your cock right here in the car. Hurry up, get going. We've got some serious fucking to do!"

I couldn't help but agree.

While I drove at possibly the speed of light - completely forgetting my earlier post-imbibement cautions - Karen busied herself by trying to straighten out the sopping mess I'd made out of the toes of her stockings. She did an admirable job of it, too.

"Hey," she proclaimed happily, "guess you didn't ruin my stockings, after all." Trying to keep my eyes on the road, I looked over to see her tugging her hose back into shape around her toes. I knew I couldn't spend too much time looking down at her feet, because not only did that bring back vivid recent memories of my

Chardonnay tasting, but those wet tootsies were attached to some rather mind-boggling legs as well...legs which rose ever upward from her slim ankles to shapely calves and thighs, most of which was clearly visible as her bent leg position caused her dress to be hiked all the way up to her navel. It was NOT a sight conducive to

competent driving.

After a few more minutes, I heard the rustle of Karen's dress as she began moving around again. I braced myself. I didn't know what was happening exactly, but when Karen was in "that" mood, anything was likely to happen. I kept looking forward, forcing myself to concentrate on the intermittent pulse of streetlights and the mesmerizing broken white line.

As it turns out, I didn't have to look in Karen's direction anyway. She took that option away from me. With a dull thud, her still shoeless feet plopped up on the dashboard, not more than six inches from where my white knuckles had a death grip on the steering wheel. I groaned. Karen chuckled.

"Just a little incentive," she quipped.

"Incentive?" I asked. "Incentive for what...to get us both killed, wrapped all nice and accordion-like around a telephone pole?"

She laughed. "No, silly, just incentive to drive a little faster."

"Faster?! If I drive any faster, we'll go through a time warp."

Still chuckling, she added, "Well, if you don't get me home soon, I'll be on you like white on rice, darlin'."

I sighed. I looked at the speedometer and cringed. I didn't need a time warp - my life was already flashing before my eyes. With great effort, I removed my eyes from those satiny legs and feet, forcing my head straight forward, willing my eyes not to wander. My whole body became stiff with the effort...except, it seemed, the part that Karen WANTED stiff. Oh, it was still somewhat inflated, but it had indeed lost it's "boner" status.

This, of course, didn't sit well with Karen at all. She's not one who likes being ignored when she's trying to entice you. So, I wasn't the least bit surprised when those long, nylon-clad legs slipped off the dash and soon after I felt pressure between my legs. That pressure was caused not by a playful foot, nor even a dangerously positioned spike heel, but by a quintet of grasping, groping fingers. A somewhat apprehensive - though giddy - sideways glance to my right revealed Karen's leering face in close proximity to my own.

"C'mon, honey," my little tart whispered in my ear, "I really need you. Please do get us home tout suite, oui?" As her hot breath conveyed this message to my eardrum, her right hand kneaded the once again growing tent between my thighs. "Boner" status had been re-established.

Warm lips began brushing against my earlobe. More hot breath caressed the side of my face. Eager fingers squeezed and prodded my pants. Just about then was when I heard the "zzzziiiip" noise, even through Karen's moist breaths in my ear. The sound was followed immediately by Karen's soft gasp.

"Ooooooh...now, THAT'S what I'm talking about," she sighed, nibbling my earlobe. Her hand had worked itself inside my zipper, down inside my shorts. It was brazenly fondling my throbbing package. Her hand was so warm, so persistent. It felt incredible, but it didn't help my driving skills one tiny bit.

Karen's hand had no conscience at all, apparently much like its overheated owner. It wanted what it wanted. With just that one clutching hand, she managed to fondle my cock and balls simultaneously. That, along with her nibbling lips at my ear and her warm cleavage rubbing up against my upper arm, threatened to send us careening off the road at a decidedly unsafe speed. Luckily, I still had enough strength of will to slow down the car. If I'd tried to slam on the brake and stop us toally, we'd have both shot throught the windshield like the circus Cannonball Man and sailed gracefully through the late night air until we'd landed a good mile or so in front of our hastily vacated vehicle. This, obviously, would not be a good thing.