My Legendary Girlfriend

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Katrina was amazing in stockings - and out.
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franco89
franco89
36 Followers

Katrina was always amazing when she wore stockings. She is, without them, an incredibly attractive woman. With them, her sensuality is increased. That's probably all in my mind, to be honest. I'm the one with the penchant for stockings. I've always adored them and so, it probably follows, it is directly in my imagination that her sensuality is increased when she wears them. The way she rolls them up her legs and fixes the elasticised bands in place or attaches them to the metal tabs of her suspender belt. That turns me on like nothing else. Nothing she wears is as exciting as a sheer pair of nylon stockings. I suppose, in all honesty, I'm a stocking fetishist.

We've been together over three years now. It took almost ten years to get to where we are now, deeply in love and thinking of taking that extra step. That's another factor that I, sure to have been the perennial bachelor, would never have succumbed to but Katrina, like I said, is an amazing woman.

Our first meeting was in Sixth Form College. Her father worked for the diplomatic service and this meant she travelled around as much as he did. Unfortunately her mother had passed away several years before so it was just the two of them; there were no other brothers or sisters.

From the first moment she strolled into the communal lounge set aside for us from the rest of the school, something about her gripped me. It was one of those things that was indescribable. You knew it was there but you couldn't exactly put your finger on it and say; 'that's it. That's what she has.' With her sandy blonde hair, clear blue eyes and wonderfully expressive face I was immediately drawn to her, fancying her as I hadn't any other girl in the school. I adored the way her school tie nestled between the twin orbs of her generous breasts. She had long legs and didn't wear the regulation style tights the others wore. These were nylon like my older sister. Her legs tapered down into a delicate ankle, accentuated by the heeled shoes she wore.

If her arrival at the school wasn't good enough, it turned out she was moving into the same street I lived on. I wasn't aware of that straight away. Going home that day I saw the removal van and the brown jacketed workers moving box after box into the house that had been recently rented out. Her father did own a house but moved around in accordance with his job. It was the following week that I noticed her coming out of the house as I was leaving for college.

That was the first time we spoke. Young and charged with hormones I was surprised she knew my name. It's easy for a group of people to remember the name of a new arrival, more difficult when the new arrival has to remember lots of names. That was what I had found when I first started at the college.

We talked all the way, a good fifteen-minute walk. I learned that, due to her father's job, she had travelled most of her life. Singapore. Malaysia. United States. And a few other countries as well. This was her first time in Ireland since she had been five years old. The United States was her favourite, she said you could express yourself in the way you wanted, life was more laid back and people were more accepting. As a young, black student I was too aware of the fact how much intolerance there was in this country. It simmered under the surface, particularly evident in Dublin and other larger cities. Her words sowed the seeds of a desire to, one day, seek out the kind of nirvana she was talking about.

'The other thing I've learned,' she said casually, her voice a weird mix-match of accent, 'is that you have to take every opportunity you can.'

'How do you mean?'

'If you move around a lot, you miss out on things,' she explained. 'You're never in a place long enough to make any real connection, any real friends. That's one thing I do regret. Having a lack of friends, especially a boyfriend. Not knowing how long I would be in any place, I learned to take every chance I got to make the most out of any particular place.'

'I can imagine it could be difficult.'

Katrina nodded. 'It is, Karl. Dad does try his best but, lately, I'm left to my own devices. He recognises that I'm growing up now and he can relax a bit and look after himself for a change. He's done a lot for me, accepted a lot of what I've had to tell him and never, ever criticised anything.'

'Sounds too good to be true,' I laughed. 'Try living with my parents and you'll know what criticism is all about.'

'Do you smoke?' she asked, removing a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of her jacket.

'No.'

'Now,' she said, lighting one, 'this is the only thing that pisses him off.'

'My sister smokes. Causes a huge fight every time she does it in the house.'

'So, Karl, do you have a girlfriend?' she asked suddenly.

'No.'

Katrina stopped and looked at me, the cigarette in her mouth. 'Maybe we should go out. You're a good looking man and remember what I was saying about taking every opportunity?'

'I do.'

She discarded the cigarette and placed her hands on the sides of my face and drew me closer into a kiss. I felt her soft lips press against mine, could smell her perfume and the scent of her hair. Her tongue probed my mouth, tasting of the cigarette she had just smoked. I didn't care. She was kissing me, holding me and I responded, kissing back with equal passion, my heart racing in my chest. The kiss was long enough, forceful enough to have my penis erecting in my trousers. Luckily our bodies were not that close together so she would not be able to feel it press against her.

'You're a good kisser,' she smiled. 'I like that in a boyfriend.'

All I could do was look at her. There were only inane things swirling around in my head and I shifted my position to relieve the growing pressure in my groin.

Katrina laughed at my seemingly obvious discomfort. After stroking the side of my face she kissed my cheek. 'Don't we have some kind of assignment to hand in tomorrow?'

I frowned. 'Yes.'

'Come over after dinner this evening,' she went on. 'We can compare notes and help each other out.'

'That would be good,' I replied. 'I'm struggling with it.'

'Tell me about it,' she agreed. 'History wasn't the easy option that I thought it was going to be.'

We resumed walking to college, now with her hand in mine. I couldn't believe my luck, dating had never been this easy before. Most girls I knew did not want to go out with me. I was shy enough as it was. Mercifully Katrina had made it easy for me this occasion and had asked me out. Walking down the streets I felt like I had never felt before, almost indestructible as I strolled with this attractive girl, her soft flesh in mine, the taste of her lips still on mine.

I did not know it then but she affected me more than anyone else had ever done and, for years to come, would remain at the back of my mind.

Our first official date happened a few days later. We went to the cinema. I strolled the short distance to her house, dressed in my best shirt and a liberal amount of borrowed aftershave from my father. I'd been looking forward to this all day, having her all to myself for a change. Since she had first kissed me that was all I could think about; how it had made me feel, how much of an effect she had on me. I had never known anyone like her.

And she was my girlfriend.

Katrina answered the door. I was expecting her father. She explained that he had gone home for the weekend just to ensure the house was fine, even though his mother checked on it every couple of days.

'Do you fancy something to drink before we go?' she asked.

'Sure,' I answered.

I was led through to the lounge, which I had only seen briefly before. There was only the minimum of furniture and decoration. Again that was due to the fact they moved around and less possessions made it all the easier.

'This all right?' she asked with a wicked smile as she held up a bottle of vodka.

'Sure,' I repeated.

She poured a couple of glasses and then came back over to me and directed me onto the couch. When she sat down I saw the way her short skirt rode up her legs. My eyes followed her legs from the high leather boots she wore, all along the stockings and, just above that, her pale flesh. There was a tattoo on her right thigh, a lion's head.

'I'm a Leo,' she explained, noting my interest in it. 'Or, maybe, that's not what you're interested in?'

'The tattoo,' I replied, a bit too hastily.

'Liar,' she chided.

'You look beautiful,' I said, after sipping on the vodka.

'I know,' she replied.

I checked my watch. 'We should be on our way.'

Katrina stood up and walked through to the adjoining room. I thought she was going for a coat but she returned exactly as she was. In one hand she held a video case and a take-away menu in the other. 'I don't want to go out. Let's just stay in and take advantage of an empty house.'

'That's fine with me,' I replied.

'I knew it would be.' She walked across, picked up her glass and drained the remainder of the vodka. When she bent down, her blouse was open enough to reveal a good view of her breasts and the lacy bra she wore.

'What's the video?' I asked. I watched her take the entire bottle of vodka and bring it over to the table and set it down.

She shrugged her shoulders. 'Don't know. Dad picked up a couple for me to occupy my time while he's gone. Probably some idiotic chick-flick that he assumes I would be interested in.'

'Which you're not?'

'Screw you,' she laughed and playfully slapped me. She tossed the menu into my lap. It was for the local Chinese restaurant which also did a home delivery service. 'Choose whatever you want. Dad has an account.'

'You don't cook either?'

She raised her eyebrows. 'I do cook, for your information. Not tonight, though. We're not so close that I'm going to start cooking you meals.'

'That's not what I meant.'

A smile spread across her face. 'Gotcha!'

We ended up rolling on the couch, laughing as each of us tried to gain the upper hand in this good-natured struggle. It was soon cast aside and we were kissing, our lips melded together, tongues hungry in each other's mouth, our bodies close. I could feel the firmness of her breasts against my chest and, I'm sure, she could feel my erection pressed at her leg. My hands caressed her, reached down and touched her stockings, felt how smooth they were. Almost like a second skin.

'Relax,' she whispered, breaking the kiss. She wriggled from under me and sat up. 'I'm hungry, yes. Right now it's for food.'

'Sorry,' I apologised, realising I must have given her cause for concern when I was stroking her leg.

'Don't be,' she smiled. 'You have a gentle touch. If you're good, I may let you touch my legs later.'

'What would you like?'

'Actually,' she replied, 'I want you to touch my breasts. As for the food, just tell them my usual and they'll know.'

'You're obviously a regular customer.'

'I adore Chinese food. Always have.'

'I've not really had it,' I admitted. 'Tried a few mouthfuls once but that's about it. Would you order for me?'

'They do other dishes as well.'

'I'll be adventurous,' I replied.

'I knew that was the kind of person you were,' she said. 'There was something about you, some vibe I got that day we first kissed. I knew that I wouldn't be making a fool of myself.'

'As if.'

'Hey,' she said, seriously, 'I've been hurt in the past. I haven't always been the girl you see before you now. Relationships, even brief ones, are things I take seriously. I don't like pain or ridicule.'

'I didn't mean to upset you,' I apologised, taking hold of her hand and squeezing it with reassurance. 'I wouldn't.'

'I hope you don't,' she added. Then her smile returned. 'So, you'll trust me to order for you?'

We were upstairs in her bedroom. It overlooked the street, the light from a streetlamp shining in and she closed the curtains. There was still enough illumination penetrating the thin material as she led me to the bed and pulled me onto it. Knelt there, we began kissing, our hands exploring our bodies tenderly. The more we kissed, the more fever driven our actions were. Katrina moved back and allowed me to undo the buttons on her blouse, popping the buttons and parting the crisp cotton. I took a deep breath before reaching out and cupping her breasts through the thin lace of her bra. She sighed and her nipples hardened under my touch, rubbing at my palms as I ran them over her flesh.

'That's nice,' she smiled.

I looked down at her stockings, the tabs of her suspender belt on show. The lion's head in its' perpetual roar looked back at me. There was a rage inside me as strong as the beast that was on her thigh. Overwhelming me the more I touched her, kissed her and felt her hands on me.

Through my expression I asked her what was gradually taking hold of me.

Katrina shook her head. 'Not tonight,' she replied. 'Just touch my breasts, kiss them and I'll suck you. But, nothing more.'

Her nipple in my mouth was an extraordinary experience, so hard as I sucked on it, her breast soft yet firm in my hand. I had never been in such a position before and silently prayed that I was doing it right. Being here, with her, I wanted to satisfy her in the way she wanted and try not to reveal my inexperience. This was the farthest I had gone with a girl. The first time I had touched a naked breast, let alone have my mouth clamped around an erect nipple.

'Lie down,' she whispered.

When I was lying on the bed, she towered over me, her breasts swaying as she bent down and started unfastening my trousers. I could feel my heart hammering and an increase of pressure in my temples as she pulled them down, pushed aside my briefs and removed my erect penis. I shivered as her hand wrapped around my shaft and started to rub up and down, pulling back my foreskin to reveal my deep glans. Her hand looked so pale against my dark penis.

The way she masturbated me lit every nerve in my body. Each sensual caress caused me to shudder, to gasp in a delight I had never known. Touching myself never gave rise to such a defined reaction.

'If you like that,' she smiled, her eyes twinkling in the subdued light, 'then this will be even better.' Her mouth opened and she lowered herself onto my penis, sucking it into her mouth.

I made an exclamation as she fed me further in, taking as much of me as she was able. I could feel her teeth on my shaft, her tongue licking around me, her hand still rubbing my shaft. This was the closest thing to heaven I could imagine. She brought her mouth back up until only her lips touched my crown and then plunged me back into her mouth, clamping tight around me and sucking. I knew I could not stave off the inevitable much longer and told her.

Katrina looked up and smiled and resumed her task. My balls contracted and there was a rush of pleasure that made me writhe and sigh aloud before I started to come, my semen flowing directly into her mouth. I was in awe of that as she sucked me, drank down all that I gave her and kept me inside her after I was done, my shaft beginning to soften.

Then a door downstairs slammed shut.

Katrina suddenly sat up on the bed, shuffled across the bed and parted the curtain slightly. 'Shit!' she exclaimed, agitated. 'Dad's home!'

'What?'

'Something must be wrong,' she said, keeping her voice low.

'Katrina?' a voice called from below. 'Are you home?'

'You have to get out of here,' she whispered to me, searching for her blouse and struggling to put it on in her anxiety. 'I'll keep him talking and you sneak out the door. Give me a few minutes.'

I nodded, rearranging my own clothing.

'Katrina?' her father repeated.

'Coming,' she called back. Then she lowered her voice again. 'Well, I wasn't but you certainly did. I can't wait to have that cock of yours in my mouth again.'

Now the initial shock was gone, I was surprised at how calmly she dressed herself, brushed her hair quickly and then headed to the door. 'Five minutes. Then sneak out. I'll call you later.' She blew me a kiss and then opened the door, exited and closed it gently behind her.

I waited as long as she said, then opened the door carefully and peered out. I could hear voices coming from the lounge as I sneaked down the stairs, sure that a careless footfall would make a stair creak and all would be discovered. Once I reached the foot without incident, I hurried across to the front door, opened it and closed it as quietly as I could. I heard the click as the lock snapped back into place and froze. When no one, her father, came to the door I sighed with relief and walked away into the night with a blissful memory of Katrina and her mouth sucking my penis firmly embedded in my mind.

I only saw her one final time after that. The reason her father had returned so suddenly was because some kind of diplomatic incident had occurred in Singapore and he was being dispatched to handle it and then remain on in an official capacity. Which meant she was leaving again and our relationship came to a grinding halt before it had even really begun.

We said an emotional goodbye in my bedroom, kissing and touching each other. As before, she performed oral sex on me, allowing it to splatter across her naked breasts before she rubbed her fingers through it and licked them clean with a huge grin on her face as she did so.

Though we promised to remain in touch, contact began to wane. Our letters to each other were raunchy, filled with imaginative descriptions of how we wanted to make love to each other and I lay alone at night, reading them and masturbating myself. I longed for her, wanted her to come back. Over time her letters became less frequent though she was ever in the back of my mind. Other girls were compared to her and it eroded possible relationships because I was constantly seeking someone who was just like her. The realisation that she had become such a defining force in my life crept up on me. It was hard to accept at first. But, Katrina was my first real love and it seemed natural that she would affect me so much.

It took time but, in the end, I banished the ghost of her from my mind.

We met again ten years later.

I walked into my solicitor's office to put my signature on the divorce papers that my estranged wife had served. It was a particularly rough time for me. We'd been having our troubles like most other couples did. Only ours centred on my inability to father children. My wife came from a large family and family was important to her. She wanted children of her own and all our attempts had failed. A fertility test revealed it was me who had the problem. My sperm count made it nigh impossible for me to father a child. Vendela was against adoption and the rift began, grew and spread until she announced her intentions of obtaining a divorce. All my pleas were met with resistance and, in the end, I resigned myself to the fact our marriage was over.

Seated in the waiting room I glanced through the pages of some law magazine that sat on a table. There had been only one other person waiting, a woman. When I had entered I thought there was something familiar about her but I couldn't place it. I wasn't looking too intently. Women were the last thing on my mind.

She was still there after I had been inside, signed the documents, and coming into the waiting room again.

'Karl?' she asked, staring at me.

I looked at her. Now that I was paying attention, she was very attractive with long, black hair, glasses. She had a lovely pair of clear, blue eyes. Put all that with the very nice, toned body she appeared to have under the black dress she wore and she could have re-ignited my passion there and then.

'You don't remember me?' she asked.

'I'm sorry,' I apologise. 'I have a lot on my mind at the moment.'

'I can see that,' she smiled.

franco89
franco89
36 Followers