tagFetishMaid to Last

Maid to Last

byprettypolly©

It was 10.10 am on a Thursday in April. My wife was away at work in the city and wouldn't be home for another 12 hours at least; there was some big take-over bid and lots of paperwork to sort out. She was bringing cases of work papers home at the weekends too for the past two months and I hadn't really had any free time with her for ages. She was a tall, fit woman with a passion for work and the outdoors. Her favourite colour was red and when she dressed for work she dressed to kill: powermode. It was her good looks as well as her skills that had allowed her to progress up the corporate ladder.

I was drinking a mug of Assam tea and wondering what I could do, having taken the day off sick from the agency. There was little work and the last ad job was storming ahead on all formats. I deserved a break. I sat in the bedroom and gazed at the dressing table. Her makeup and hairclips were not sprawled over its surface for a change and her perfumes were all lined up. I put my mug down and wandered over to the dresser. Her top drawer was partially open revealing her lacy bras and knickers. I pulled it open and had a little rummage. A waft of her pot pourri lingered. I closed the drawer and smiled.

I was reminiscing about the little shopping trip I took her on to Paris, exclusively for the best lingerie money could buy. I opened her next drawer down. Carefully rolled up round balls of tights and stockings appeared, all neat and tidy. Towards the back were un-opened packets of Pretty Polly Italian sheer stockings and various kinds of tights. There were some Wolford Synergy range, Marks and Spencer Sheer Nude range and Le Bouquet black sheer tights. I took all these out and looked at the pictures. The models' nylon clad legs were all fantastic.

My wife had great legs too, and I often spent long hours staring at them, she wasn't keen to wear stockings to bed so my fetish had to remain unfulfilled or else admired from afar at parties or social engagements that called for smart dress. I often seduced her when she returned from work in a particular business suit, pushing her onto the kitchen table and pulling up her short skirt. I would frisk her nylon clad ass and feel her long smooth legs in the sheerest black tights before pulling down her gusset and silk panties and take her from behind. She would gasp with shock and delight and we would both cum almost simultaneously. Her arms flailing and legs kicking off her patent leather high heels. The memories were starting to turn me on. A great erect dick now lodged in my jogging bottoms.

I also remembered the time we were invited to one of her company's director's cocktail parties in a penthouse over looking Canary Wharf. She was in a red glittery number, and I knew she was in new black stockings as I had found the discarded packaging in the bedroom wastebasket. She was in her red heels, that must be 4 or 5 inches high and she seemed to be taller than me. We were of very similar height anyway. I think she did it to tower over the short old directors, to give them the best view of her pert breasts.

We were going up in a glass lift on the south side of the building when I hit the stop button between floors. She turned round from looking at the flood lit Thames and I reached into her dress slit that went from her ankles virtually up to her topmost thigh, revealing every now and then a glimpse of diaphanous flesh. She grinned evilly and unzipped my trousers and we made love up against the steamed up curved glass in front of the glittering spectacle that was London.

We were almost caught as the lift continued to ascend and only just managed to tidy ourselves up as the lift bell rang to inform us our floor had been reached. A barrage of waiters and hospitality girls met us as the door opened.

I found myself in a hot bath staring at the tiled wall, a razor in my hand and globules of shaving foam floating on the water. I gazed down at my knees and thighs. They were hairless; I had unconsciously shaved my entire legs and even my pubes. I had completely smooth legs! They felt soft and wonderful, very feminine. My long legs looked as good as my wife's. I was amazed. I had never shaved my self before. My erect cock bobbed merrily in the water.

The water had a subtle scent of rosewater added and this always reminded me of our romantic baths we often had at weekends. Candle lit and soft music we would run a bath and lie entwined for ages talking and kissing, Sometimes we would roll over, sloshing water everywhere, giggling and laughing and carefully make slow relaxing love as the water cooled and caressed our wet bodies. We would often climb out of the bath together and then lie on the marbled floor in a cosy nest of soft bath towels. I would start to lick her opened vaginal lips and she would swivel round and take me in her mouth. We would suck and lick each other off for hours. I would sometimes tongue her round little rosebud, but she never confessed to liking anything anal. This developed into a little fantasy of mine, it became quite obsessive. She would always squirm and bring me back to her dripping pussy for more tonguing.

I seemed to have dried myself off and reached for some moisturiser which had softened my legs even more, and my now hairless chest was pink and feminine too, but I lacked boobs. I seemed to be in a strange dreamy trance. I picked up the packet of Wolford tights I had brought into the bathroom and returned to the bedroom to drink the remainder of my tea.

I sat on the bed gazing at the long, long legs of the girl wearing the Wolford brand and getting extremely turned on.

She was wearing very high strappy heels and a black split dress almost identical to the one my wife had hanging in her wardrobe. It wasn't overly smart but very sensual and clingy, the thing she would wear to a friend's house for dinner or to the theatre. She wore it to the opening night of Maid to Last at the Savoy, and didn't want to look over-dressed for Sean who had managed to get a serious main part in the play. An old college friend of both of us, Sean was on the verge of the big time. In fact I think Sean had a soft spot for her, they dated three times before I started going out with her. Sean had put us up at his Covent Garden flat, after his first night drinks party. It was a super play and Sean was perfect as the husband of a country Lord's daughter who had affairs and he had to dress up in disguise to figure out what was going on behind his back, once as a maid only to be caught by her. This bizarre behaviour kept her happy and faithful to him. It was very cutting edge but not that shocking as there were no real scenes. The play was more about the politics. The one scene Sean did have to be disguised as a maid I will always remember that. He didn't look bad actually. Back at his flat he had gone to bed feeling exhausted and we stayed up in the spare room and stripped off quietly before I took her doggy style on the floor. I noticed packs and packs of tights and large women's high-heeled shoes under the spare bed. I guessed it was part of the costume Sean had to wear for the play. We practically made love all night before slinking off to work the next morning on amazing highs. Sean came over to dinner the next night he had off and was flush with the reviews Maid to Last was getting. His agent was being contacted by the BBC for a major series next year and MGM studios were looking for a sideman to Hugh Grant in a family swapping film comedy due to commence in the winter. Sean was going to new pastures. It was the time I could have sworn I saw his trouser leg ride up at the dinner table when I dropped a fork. I caught a shimmering high light on his bare leg, which I thought was just the lighting and the Merlot doing funny things to my eyes. I could have sworn he was wearing nude tights!

Sean didn't notice my strange expression, I was going to mention it to Susan but my wine numbed brain was busy thinking about work and the holiday to Vancouver at the end of the week, I totally forgot all about it. We were so tired that at bed time we both undressed and she hung her dress back in the wardrobe without a second thought of doing her strip routine she likes to do with it, letting it cling and drape off her breasts sensually and erotically.

By now I had caught a movement in the dressing table mirror, a flash of red and black. I turned to look around but there was no one there. Then I saw myself in the mirror, I was wearing a bra and panties, black with red frilly edges, smooth silk. My breasts were padded by rolled up stockings, which were hidden by the lacy edges. I looked very sexy and feminine, with no body hair and a slim waistline. I had bought the underwear set in a boutique in Paris, after seeing Susan wear it in the changing rooms. She dragged me in much to the amusement of the serving girls and asked if I liked what I saw.

My rising cock answered for me.

She silently pulled my trousers down and opened the flap in my boxer shorts to release my purple dome that was already oozing pre-cum and licking her scarlet lips flicked her tongue over me and deep throated me. I gazed at the mirrors that sped off into eternity as the reflections curved away, imaging the girl crouched at my groin was a saucy lingerie clad hooker. I fought the urge to scream out loud shot loads of cum not only into her mouth, she coughed, but continued shooting jism all over the mirror. She wiped it off with a tissue but it smeared terribly. The serving girl knew what had happened but said nothing as she passed my credit card through the swiper. Susan had worn the lingerie for months afterwards before it eventually lost its appeal, in her eyes only I add. This outing was its first jaunt in three years. It fitted me well, as I said we were both fit and of similar sizes. I saw in the mirror a slim saucy tart's body.

I reached for the Wolford pack lying on the table. They were Synergy stockings, sheerest black nylon. They cost Susan £20. Expensive, I thought for nylon, as I took them out of the packet but as I felt how nice they were I changed my mind.

We had a 'vicars and tarts' party when we first moved here. Susan dressed as a vicar but wore stockings beneath her long skirt. I think they were the same kind I was rolling up now. She looked very saintly in black but when the guests went home later, she stripped off the cardigan and skirt and walked around the house in her underwear just to get me aroused. Then she declared she had a migraine coming on and went off to find the Migraleve and promptly went to bed clutching her head. I was so worked up I stayed in the bathroom and had a cold shower. I was so charged up I had several wanks and went to bed with a throbbing cock and aching balls.

My cock was throbbing now as I clipped the last suspender clip into place. There you see, I could look just as sexy as Susan and just as raunchy. I stood up relishing the swish of nylon over my hairless legs. I did look quite stunning. I found her 4 inch heels and slipped my feet into them, they were only just big enough to fit. I wobbled a bit and gradually got used to balance pacing up and down the bedroom to the wardrobe and the window. I opened the wardrobe door and took out the black clingy dress and a silk slip. It felt gorgeous in my hands, I stepped into the slip and then I zipped the back of the dress down and stepped into that. It clung to my body and fitted snugly just like a glove. I zipped up the back and sat back down in front of the mirror. There was something missing still. Ah yes, the makeup. I found a brilliant red lipstick and some eye shadow and within 20 minutes I was made up and looking very ladylike indeed. It was quite frightening. I fancied myself. I could have been a twin sister to Susan!!! I had brushed my shoulder length hair up and puffed it out, so it looked curly and full. It was then that I heard the front door open.

I froze. Susan wasn't due back for another 8 hours or so. Perhaps she had a headache and had returned to the house to go to bed. I wasn't sure what she would say if she caught me in full drag. She would flip, think I was queer or perverted. I only did it to see what it felt like; I had shaved my legs before even realising what I had done. What have I done! I heard a cough. It was deep and manly. Who was that? It sounded familiar somehow. I moved over to the wardrobe, there would be enough space inside to hide. I could take off my clothes inside and grab some tissues when the moment came to remove the makeup. Carefully I opened the door and stepped inside, it was roomy inside, a walk in wardrobe, but filled somewhat with hatboxes and shoe racks. I heard some rustling on the landing. I heard the sound of high heels on the landing floor and then the clatter of pinpoints on the bathroom marble floor. Who was there? I felt like rushing out to confront the intruder. They could be burglars eyeing up what was worth pinching.

There was a silence, it was unnerving.

I could hear my heart in my head thumping away. My erection had subsided and I started to feel sick. I started to feel hot and very uncomfortable. The next thing I knew the wardrobe door had been opened suddenly. I was looking into a strange but familiar face. It belonged to a woman, fairly heavily made up but attractive. She was wearing a business suit, cut high and revealing. She wore sheer black tights and 3 inch heels. I blinked.

There was an awkward silence. "What are you doing in there, Susan?" A man's voice said, but it was the woman was asked. Then I twigged why. It was Sean dolled up in an amazing and highly realistic way! Fuck me I thought. What is going on? I stepped out. He looked at me through his made up face and his hands went to his head. "Look its me, Sean." He said pulling off his wig. " Had a problem with the pedicurist and then Selfridges had ran out of Synergy stockings. You know they are my favourites. I had to buy tights and get some Pretty Polly ones instead." He backed off and sat on the bed. I smiled and continued to stare at him in total disbelief. Sean was on my bed in full drag discussing pantyhose with some one he thought was my wife. It was a surreal moment. "Are you ok, Susan? You are looking a bit dazed but even more gorgeous than usual! What's up? Is Micky due back soon? You should have phoned. I could have come tomorrow. Is he due back now? He put his wig back on, straightened it in the mirror and looked back at me. I shook my head and stepped closer to the dressing table. " No, Sean, he's already here!" I said straightening my dress and shimmying my butt.

For an actor he was good. But he could never have re-captured his total look of surprise and fright when Sean looked at me and then around the bedroom and then back to me. "Micky?" He said, gasping and hesitantly. "Micky? Is that you?" He blinked, his mascara was perfect. "Oh fuck." He announced and breathed a heavy sigh. "Would you like to tell me what the fuck is going on, Sean?" I wobbled over to the bed and sat beside him. "I could ask you the same fucking question." He replied. "What's your excuse for being dolled up?" He took off his wig again and kicked off his heels. "My excuse?..." I wavered, also kicking off my shoes." There are two gorgeous women in my fucking bedroom and they are both fucking blokes." I turned to Sean, he simply nodded.

Later in the kitchen, we sat at the table drinking Assam tea, still fully dressed in women's clothes. "So you were picking up dress tips from Susan?" I seemed to be interrogating him. " For the play? Which has been on for over five months now. And you wanted dress tips? Is that why you wear women's clothing in public? What's all that shit about the pedicurist?"

I glanced at his nylon covered feet. He had had his toenails filed and painted a shade of red. He had sexy feet, small and well proportioned.

"Ok, ok, " Sean said, " I get off in women's clothes. Alright? I am a transvestite! There see? A fucking tranny, always have been. It was why Susan dumped me. She knew I had a tights fetish. She caught me wanking off in a pair of her discarded tights at her student digs." He sipped his tea.

"Is that why you had shoes and packets of tights under the spare bed, when we stayed the night"

Sean nodded, "So what's your excuse? A tranny too?", he glanced at me.

"I....I...just wanted to know what it felt like." I grinned inanely. "Never done it before. Fuck I have even shaved my legs and pubes. What is Susan going to say? I am not a tranny Sean, I was just bored."

"Like fuck you were Micky, so bored you shaved your legs. Yeah right." He gulped down his tea and poured out another mug full.

"Anyway I quite like it actually." I caught myself saying, I stroked my stocking clad legs. "Its fucky horny dressing like this."

Sean stared at me, and I noticed his gaze continue running down my legs and finishing at my feet.

"You like it?" He said questionly, his eye wandered back up my legs and settled on my groin. He was watching a growing bulge beneath my clingy dress. I finished my second mug of tea and stood up.

"Yeah, it's horny." My erect penis was visible as an outline, black on black, hidden beneath tight knickers and the clinging dress. I soon noticed Sean had a bulge in his gusset, as he sat open legged, his skirt riding up and exposing his tights. He wasn't wearing panties at all, but the tights had a cotton gusset panel. " I need a cold shower," I mumbled and headed for the stairs. "I feel fucking weird." I started walking up the stairs, enjoying my erection as it rubbed against my panties and the feeling of the stockings running over my thighs. I could hear Sean slurping his tea in the kitchen and then he started upstairs too.

"Yeah, need to cool off. Feeling strange too." I entered the bedroom and got Sean to unzip me. He gazed at my body. "Oh fuck". He whimpered, " you look fucking amazing."

I stepped out of my slip, my dick was held in place by skimpy knickers. Before I knew it Sean was kneeling in front of me, and had yanked my panties down freeing my enormous dick. He gazed up at my breasts and gasping face and took my cock deep into his mouth. I gasped with shocked delight and had to sit on the dressing table stool, as Sean continued flicking his tongue over my dome and down its shaft. I was in total rapture. I arched my back and shivered in unearthly pleasure as I came hard and long into his mouth.

He swallowed and swallowed and cleaned me up with his tongue. I had started to take off his jacket and blouse. He was wearing a teddy and taking off his skirt just bare sheerest black tights. His large dick stood erect in the nylon sheath and gleamed with pre-cum. I pulled down his seam and started to lick the top of his cock. It was warm and shiny and smooth. I took him deeper and deeper and flicked my tongue over the tip, He writhed and sighed and gasped. After going up and down for a while I licked his testicles. He had shaved too, his balls were hairless and hard, ready to release their load. Sure enough he came fast and my mouth filled with hot salty jelly like liquid which tasted quite nice. I gulped it down greedily. I was feeling quite out of it and had a raging horn.

My dick felt like swelling up and up. I reached for the scissors on the dressing table and got Sean to roll over. Carefully I cut his gusset from his smooth but cheeks right the way round to his already hardening penis. Then I made him lie so that his top part of the body was supported on the bed. I held my throbbing cock in my hand, and smeared some KY jelly on it. It looked shiny and moist, and directed it to Sean's exposed rear.

"What are you going...to.." He asked but I had already pushed my swollen dick into his tight arse and was pushing and sliding it back and forth. "Oh fuck me." He cried, " that feels fucking amazing." I pushed harder and slid right down deep into his nylon-framed bottom. Then as I continued to fuck him I ran my hands up and down his legs, savouring the nylon brushing my fingers and his muscular flesh. I loved the way the black nylon curves over the skin. Diaphanic eroticism. I tensed and gasped as I shot a steady stream of spunk deep into Sean's eager ass. He was panting with ecstasy and trying to wank himself off.

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