Nothing had ever happened except pleasant exchanges between us. Margaret was a widow who had moved into the flat next to mine some two years earlier. I imagined that she must be in her early sixties, and had led an uneventful life. On a couple of occasions we had shared a late afternoon tea, and being a typical male, I had found myself taking the chance to eye up her figure. Margaret had kept herself in good shape and dressed well if somewhat simply. She favoured skirts and high heels, and I had flirted gently with her about this, complementing her on her slim ankles, she seemed to enjoy the attention.
One particular summer evening, we were enjoying a drink together. Margaret was dressed in a nice tight fitting summer dress, with a belted waist. Her slim legs seemed to be clad in sheer nylons, and as always she wore her high heels. This time they were shapely, Italian leather, and sported a nice slim three-inch heel. Margaret was a shoe 'dangler', unintentionally I believe, yet it had the effect on me which it does with most men. I found my courage, amongst other things, rising to the occasion! Placing my cup gently back on the saucer, my mind was racing with the fantasy of running my hands and tongue over those long legs, of slipping off her shoes and gently taking her toes into my mouth...
'are you alright, you look miles away?'... My attention was brought abruptly back into the room. I felt embarrassed, as if caught out. I mumbled an apology, and with a pounding heart decided to take a risk.
'Margaret, you are not an unattractive woman' the words just tumbled out of my lips.
She broke into a wide smile.
'I do get some looks' she admitted ' but I never thought you were into that sort of thing'. Not quite knowing what 'that sort of thing was' I followed through with a slightly quizzical look.
'Oh I've noticed you looking at my legs before' she stated, whilst letting them cross with a gentle swish.
'They're not bad are they, for a woman of my age?' I stuttered some sort of reply, and found myself kneeling in front of her, automatically now running my hands up the back of her legs, feeling the bliss of sheer nylon as my hands glided over the soft muscles, savouring every moment.
Margaret caught her breath, ' I haven't felt anything like this for ages' she moaned softly, and gently lifted one leg which now went over my shoulder.
I turned my head to gently kiss and lick at the inside of her thigh that was now an inch from my face. Margaret reached for her cup, and took a sip of the now cold tea;
She gestured for me to move back, which I reluctantly did. I then watched as if hypnotised as she raised her cup, and then so slowly just tilted it. Little trickles of tea ran over the edge, and splashed onto her stockings, causing tiny rivers to run down her legs. Something about the sight of pure nylon being 'disheveled' in this way created a surge of excitement in me. My heart pounded faster, and my already erect cock felt as though it would soon explode.
I lapped eagerly at the trickles, causing Margaret to shriek with laughter, saying how ticklish she was. I lifted both of her legs causing her to fall further back into the settee. Holding both of her legs in a giant V shape, I nuzzled each ankle in turn, hungrily kissing and sucking, as if to hoover up any remaining moisture. To my delight it was then that I noticed that Margaret's nylons were not only sheer, but also fully-fashioned and seamed.
I slipped off her left shoe, and gently grated my teeth along the reinforced heel and sole. This was ecstasy and Margaret's cat like groans indicated that she was enjoying the moment too. Running my hands down her legs, I found the silky material of her French knickers, and grasping firmly pulled them down her legs, over her shoes, tossing them to one side.
I needed and wanted this woman now.
I plunged my head down between her legs, my tongue eagerly seeking her sex. With my hands either side of her thighs supporting her legs, I was able to play and toy with her suspenders whilst licking and probing with my tongue.
'Oh god, please don't stop, I can't hold back' cried Margaret through broken gasps for breath. Stopping was the last thing on my mind, nylon clad legs on the other hand were, quite literally!
I closed my eyes and savoured in the sensation of rasping my tongue between her soft skin, and the sheer taught nylon that wrapped around her shapely thighs. Each time my tongue moved from her love button, my hair was pulled firmly and my head redirected. Pulling me deeply into her, it was clear she had gone to far, her head arched back, and I began the final 'assault' with a series on long deep slow licks of the tongue. On the fifth, Margaret erupted.
The grip on my hair intensified as her body was racked into an orgasm that tore through her fiercely and passionately. With a pounding heart, I pulled back, and gripping my rock hard cock, nuzzled up against her before thrusting myself home. Margaret's legs were now wrapped around my neck. As I thrust my hot cock up to the hilt I was able to lick along the golden arch of her nylon clad foot.
'Fuck me hard you naughty boy' came softly from her lips. I needed no further encouragement, within three thrusts I felt my self explode inside of her.
Thrusting my hips forward, whilst kissing, clutching and embracing her tiny and manicured foot. We lay together for a few moments before I withdrew, and took myself off to the bathroom to 'freshen up'. When I returned Margaret greeted me with the warmest smile, she looked so demure and correct, and rewarded me with a gentle swish of her nylon clad legs as she crossed her shapely thighs. I took my chair opposite her, amazed at just how controlled she appeared and marveled at the deeply wonderful and sensuous power that women can have over we men...it felt so good.