Stocking Tops Pt. 02

Chapter 1

Returning to England with Victoria Peach, Lee thought his mother was becoming so disgusting. Twice he'd come across Victoria in bed with her sister Marlene and brother-in-law Clan (Clancy), all of them nude, sweating and red-faced, attempting to roll back under the sheet undetected and begin to idly chat about the weather. He'd also became aware as soon as the twins had caught the school bus the two women returned and disappeared into the master bedroom, locking the door.

Lee was quite relieved to be heading home, because the neighbours Chrome and her mother were banging away with him at least every other day, never together, and leaving him rather drained. They'd also stopped wearing stockings when with him, claiming his penchant for licking stocking tops was allowing them to come off the boil before they received his full attention. In both saying that it was obvious they had intimate discussions about him.

Victoria awoke from a brief nap and automatically pulled Lee's hands between her legs.

"Play with me," she whispered.

"Lee could smell pussy so guessed she'd boarded without panties. Because it was a night flight and they were in business class he could comfortably lick the flesh about her stocking tops, which she'd been accustomed to him doing for as long as he could remember. This time, however, although she squirmed and panted a little, she failed to achieve orgasm. She busied around folding his and her blankets, working them under her putt and added his and her pillows so she now really presented herself to him.

"Tongue my pussy."

Lee was not used to her commanding him like this. He thought obviously sex games in Los Angeles with his brother-in-law and sister had raised the bar for her. He disappointed her by saying no, he could not do that because while it was accepted behaviour within some circles for mothers to be unrestricted when teaching their children about sex he was now an adult and believed he could not sink into incestuous behaviour by penetrating her pussy.

"Oh well," she sighed. "Let me know when you change your mind." She then settled and went to sleep.

Victoria awoke an hour later and was restless. She shook her son awake to lick her stocking tops while she worked her fingers until achieving release and then thanked Lee with a sweet kiss and delivered several endearments into his ear and then fluttered her tongue around that ear hole, leaving her amused son wondering whether he should continue to call her darling mother or change to call her darling whore.

His father met them at the airport, greeted his almost estranged son back home and smiled, one arm cupped around to his wife's left breast and said, "I have been in conference with Headmaster, first to threaten legal action if you weren't issued with your leaving certificate and awards as you were entitled to on graduation had you not been expelled. I then held out a cheque made out to Headmaster's Fund which he read before I demanded the record of you being expelled should stand but the reason for it being noted simply as 'misbehaviour' and every other record referring to you being found in bed with that other senior student, both wearing stockings, be expunged. He wavered so I increased the donation from two thousand pounds to five thousand pounds and the slimy frog capitulated."

"Thank you pater, I mean dad."

"Accepted my son. I now require you to work in one of my companies under a responsible chief executive who will keep an eye on you, Mrs Islington-Scott, informally called by my directors who know her as 'Ball-breaker".

"Oh no Albert, not with Martha Islington-Scott," Victoria winced. "She rules with an iron glove."

Albert grinned and said hadn't he made a remarkably intelligent decision. "Lee sit with Mrs James, I have some business matters to talk over with your mother.

Lee sat in the front with the chauffeur. He'd chatted to the 30-year-old Mrs James as she stowed the luggage and mentioned she had lovely legs and he was a fan of stocking tops. She smiled without comment but when Mrs James pulled up her skirt as she got behind the wheel she pulled it level with her hips and whispered: "You will go far, young man. My husband rarely displays and interest in what I wear."

They were seated too far apart to touch but Lee still thought it was a lovely welcome back on to English soil.

Mrs James had ninety minutes to kill before she was to take Albert and Victoria Peach and Albert's CEO and wife to Manchester for British trade and industry presentation of awards at dinner that evening. Standing at his bedroom window Lee watched her walk into his mother's rose garden and sit in the small pavilion. The pavilion was not in site from the first level of the house. He called the kitchen and asked the assistant to prepare a pot of coffee to two and butter two scones, knowing cook made scones after serving breakfast every morning, whether the family was in residence of not.

Lee arrived at the pavilion and watched Mrs James' eyes widen with delight at the smell of fresh coffee and the sight of still warm scones dripping with butter.

"I suppose this service is to induce me to show you my stocking tops," she smiled, although her lips remained rather compressed, cautioning Lee against saying a confident yes.

"The thought had not entered my mind," he said casually and caught the flash of white teeth as a smile pulled her lips apart.

"Do you ever see your mummy's stocking tops?" she asked as if almost in jest and dropped the scone she was being offered back on to the plate in shock when told, "Almost every day, sometimes twice a day."

After retrieving the half of scone in slightly trembling fingers she searched his face looking for the truth and appeared satisfied. "I've long known males like you exist but they have eluded me."

"Eluded?"

"Absolutely. I get more than a flutter when seeing a man admiring my body."

"What, a really good orgasm?"

Mrs James's face coloured a beautiful pink. "You know a great deal for someone who's only recently left boarding school."

"I learn about things that interest me. I even believe you'll allow me to lick your stocking tops."

Although Mrs James's breasts appeared rather small, Lee watched her chest suddenly indicate a higher breathing rate, pulling her partway to producing orgasms if she would permit that. He knew if she decided no way would she allow him to touch her then that was it. However, if he manfully carried her along verbally in all probability she'd submit. She had to be stroked and plucked like a guitar. It was a tough call but he thought his skill level was incrementally increasing each time he sexually confronted a female.

Several females other than his mother had told Lee he was unbelievably good for a young guy as most men had difficulty in displaying charm and sensitivity when fondling women. Although Mrs James had flashed her thighs at him in the car at the airport and now knew he had a thing about stockings, there remained a bridge to be crossed before he'd be allowed to touch her. Basically it meant over-riding her restraints by dominating her mind with the thoughts that he'd be appreciative and they would feel mutually rewarded.

He though she might react best to a full-on approach. "Mrs James I'd find it pleasurable if you were to guide my hands on to your thighs, knowing that my touch would warm you to the core. There is no need to pull up your skirt, unless you want to see my naïve reaction. You will have younger and smoother thighs that my mother. What a wonderful way to start our day."

"You are sick, weird but wonderful," Mrs James laughed. "I'll sit on the table. Lick anything you find but that's all. I have no wish to be found in a compromising situation. I believe I'll see anyone approaching through the gaps in the shrubbery before they turn the corner and come into direct view."

Lee felt like sucking her toes but she was wearing lace-up mid-calf boots. Another time perhaps. Her thighs were rather plump to really appeal but the bulge of white flesh over the stocking tops got him worked enough to begin a dribble-coated lick from the side of her knee and upwards to that exposed flesh. She worked her hands into his hair and moved them, indicating she was pleased at his performance. Lee beavered away, not really going anywhere once he'd reached the pad of flesh and felt it heating up. Her pussy odour increased and her heavier breathing had become noticeable. Suddenly she convulsed and pushed his away.

"Get away from me you filthy boy," she snapped.

Lee turned and walked away, feeling the rejection because it rarely happened once he had his hands by consent on silky thighs. He didn't look back although she was now whining, "I'm sorry, please come back...PLEASE!"

Lee was smart enough to know he hadn't really been rejected. Mrs James had messed her pants and simply had reacted badly, blaming herself for messing around with a kid and feeling she'd branded herself a slut. At the branch on the pathway he turned left and walked to the kitchen. He found Mrs Anthony the cook reading a woman's magazine.

"Good morning Lee, how was America? I heard you were due home with Mrs Peach this morning."

"Hi Mrs Anthony. Want to fuck?"

"Lee! Good gracious young man. That is the worst possible way to win a rejection. What is wrong with you?"

"I suddenly feel horny."

"Ah, those flight attendants bending over the seats ahead of you eh? Well, you are young so enjoy it while its lasts. Within a could of years you won't take much notice of women as they work."

"Please Mrs Anthony."

"Ah, that's better."

"Mrs Anthony, you were the first pussy I ever entered and you always said if I want..."

"Oh all right. It seems you are in a hurry to get a shot away," she said, leading him into the pantry and looking the door before dropping her trousers and pulling down her briefs. She lent over the tiny table and turned and grinned as she heard Lee open his zip.

"Oooh," she said fingering herself. "Careful now and think about giving me satisfaction as well otherwise I may just as well cut a hole in a juicy steak for you to pound into."

A few minutes later the 43-year-old stood up red-faced and puffing. "That was excellent – I do believe those American women have taught you a thing or two."

"That you Mrs..."

"Come on, you're a young man now. Call me Jill even in front of your parents. Your mother probably suspects we do it anyway."

When they returned to the kitchen Lee made them coffee and sat chatting, neither of them mentioning what had just happened because there was no need. Jill was one of those women who believed she was put on Earth to be banged and Lee knew she could see he was grateful as he was now completely relaxed and being so nice to her.

After Lee's parents left for in the limo for Manchester Lee called a local periodic companion. He thought he'd take her to a movie and find out what was happening within the local sect of mutual friends – apart from sex and drinking binges.

The call was answered.

"Hi, Cindy. How are your stockings?"

"Straight and not laddered I would hope."

"Like to do a movie, chat over dinner and perhaps ball?"

"That sounds lovely so who's speaking?"

"It's Lee, you idiot. Are your tight thighs squeezing your ability to recognize my voice?"

"Lee Peach, Victoria's son?"

A chill ran through Lee's heart at he realized he'd blown it. It was Cindy's mother, not Cindy who'd answered the phone. Cindy would never ask was he Victoria Peach's son.

"Er, Mrs Kibby-Johnson?"

"Yes Lee, how intelligent it was of you to deduce I'm not my daughter."

"Mrs Kibby-Johnson please accept my apologies for talking so openly with you like that?"

"Exactly what atrocities have you performed on my youngest daughter Lee?"

"Er, she wears beautiful stay-up stockings, we sometimes go out to dinner together and er, by balling, that is er, a colloquialism for er, dancing."

"Cindy has gone overnight with her father to visit her paternal grandparents."

"Oh, that's fine Mrs Kibby-Johnson. Good afternoon."

"Don't you dare cut this call young man. I am home alone and would very much like to substitute for my daughter to be taken to a movie, to dine somewhere discreet and to be balled by you. If you say no I could complain to your mother and certainly to Cindy but I must confess that bitchiness doesn't sit well with me. So you have the choice of thumbing your nose at me at me or alternatively acting as a gentlemen by coming to my home at 7:00 for a drink before you take me to a movie."

Lee, who'd never met Cindy's mother guessed she'd be couth and probably quite good looking for an older woman because Cindy, who was eighteen, was a beauty with a lovely body including sensational legs. He swallowed and decided to take the plunge.

"I shall call at 7:00 Mrs Kibby-Johnson. My mother has told me a thousand times to be polite to women who are charming and non-threatening. Good afternoon."

* * *

Lee pushed the door button to the Kibby-Johnston's home on the dot of 7:00, knowing the home although substantial was not large enough to accommodate live-in household help so expected madam herself to answer the door. The husband could afford the impeccable house in a premium location because he was senior partner in a law firm.

Madam did indeed open the door and Lee's heart missed a beat. She was tall, probably just short of forty, beautifully coiffured and perfumed, a wide face with a wide and generously-lipped mouth and a bust that almost took his breath away. A quick look down produced a disappointment because she was not wearing stockings.

"Well, well – we meet at last, she purred," taking his arm and almost pulling him into the hallway. Mrs Kibby-Johnson's grip changed to his hand and she led up the stairs.

"As I expect you to be doing indescribable things to me this evening, please call me Harriett."

Lee swallowed as his mind tried to picture what she would rate as being indescribable.

"Certainly," he gulped, imagining plunging down the canyon otherwise called her throat and his hands held straight down and loaded with the heavy mass of her breasts, rubbery nipples worming around against his palms desperate for attention. His entire body shook and he felt giddy as blood rushed to his lower extremities.

They entered the master bedroom as then into her dressing room that was the size of the average person's bedroom, not that Lee knew many people who are 'average'.

"I'm ready to go apart from the pièce de résistance."

Lee looked at her blankly. If they were ready to go why haven't they left when they met at the front door? Oh, perhaps she wanted to put on her knickers?

Harriett pulled up her skirt and he blinked, not at the fact that she wasn't wearing knickers but the size of her blonde thicket. In his limited (very limited) experience natural blondes were usually far less hairy than non-blondes. Still, it had a distinctive centre-line part so that was something.

"My stockings – you choose," she said, pinging one of her elastic suspender straps in mild embarrassment or mild stress.

Ah, the penny dropped and Lee expertly appraised the twelve packs of stockings lined along the ironing board. Harriet was pressed up alongside him and he knew she was watching for reaction. He slowly licked his lip and distinctly heard her sigh and tremor. He allowed the excitement build for both of them now that she'd confirmed by her intense interest that she shared a stocking fetish. Twice he picked up a packet but replaced it when not detecting a reaction.

Lee then picked up the pair he'd already selected when first glancing at the line-up and began hardening against his briefs at the thought of watching Harriett putting them on, that is if she'd allowed that. As his hands touched that pack he heard Harriett's deep draw of breath and smiled, knowing she'd already decided to put on a one-man show and he knew he was the lucky guy. He handed her the pack and said without reading the over-printing, "French-made 15 denier, low cut with silver seam, pointed heel. Superb."

She held them over her rounded belly – well, what else could a guy expect? he mused. She'd had two kids and would socialize a great deal and probably engaged in little physical activity beyond the bedroom.

She drew a hand across both nipples and said, "I'd love you to sit and watch me put them on."

"I bet," he grinned. "Mind if I unzip?"

She appeared astonished that one so young would think of such a thing let alone brazenly ask for consent She licked her top lip and said of course she wouldn't mind, in fact she'd be flattered?

"Splattered? Then you'll have to stand closer," he grinned. She didn't pretend to be shocked and said nothing, just flashing him a smile to communicate he was pleasing her.

Lee raced to unzip to release pressure, aware that this was his first encounter with a woman whose focus on the sexuality of stockings was at least as intent as his interest. As she looked up after removing the three stockings from the pack, her eyes widened when she noticed the amount protruding beyond his cupped hand. She returned the spare stocking to the pack and sat on her stool at the dresser and faced him and lifted a leg presumably unaware she was displaying a damp spot on her abundant display of blonde hair. Moving with the great deliberation of a woman teasing to the max, Harriet slowly drew on both stockings, clipping on the six clips, standing and adjusting the tension of the straps, her eyes more on what Lee was doing than feasting on the non-stretch nylon encasing her still rather nice legs and enhancing them.

She pulled up her skirt level with her hips and Lee nodded warmly and began stuffing his erection away.

"Don't hurt yourself."

He grinned and she replied with a gorgeous smile. At that point he knew that although Cindy was a greater charmer she was outshone by her mother who just oozed with sexiness.

"My breasts, you are displaying no interest in them?" she asked as they walked from the bedroom and she took his arm.

"Breasts are okay and yours look great but my interests lies elsewhere."

"Sockings?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Stocking tops actually," he corrected and felt the surge of excitement leaping through her in a transfer of energy between their arms.

To be continued