A Glimpse of Nylon Stocking Ch. 01

"TV Julie," she whispered into the receiver; her voice thick with trepidation.

She could hear heavy breathing on the other end of the line but the caller remained silent.

"TV Julie," she repeated herself, this time a little more confidently.

The breathing became heavier and suddenly stopped and the line clicked and the connection was broken.

Julie felt angry, despondent and a little silly.

"This is a stupid idea!" she hissed to herself and suddenly the phone rang again.

She snatched up the receiver.

"TV Julie, how can I help you?" she said in what she hoped was her sultriest voice.

"You the tart offering spanking and hand relief?" the man had a rough sounding London accent.

"Yes," Julie said as confidently as she could.

"How much?" the man asked.

"You get everything advertised for two pounds," Julie said curtly.

"Sounds good luv. Where am I going to?" the man sounded enthusiastic.

It was time to shit or get off the pot. Crunch time. Julie knew that she was making a life-changing decision and also possibly exposing herself to danger.

"Twelve, Black Prince Road, Lambeth," Julie whispered into the phone.

"Perfect. I'll be there in fifteen minutes luv," the man said and the line went dead.

Julie began to tremble and then she pulled herself together. She had crossed the Rubicon; there was no going back, best to make the most of it and just think about the money.

The man was true to his word and arrived fifteen minutes later giving Julie time to drink another G&T and smoke another menthol cigarette. When the doorbell rang she got up on shaky knees and went down the hall and looked through the peephole. She saw a red-faced man with a fat face wearing a flatcap looking anxiously up and down the street. He looked old, plain and obese but who did she expect would be using her services: Tom Jones?

She opened the door and the man barged in, brushing past her.

"Don't leave your punters standing on the doorstep where everyone can see them luv. You new to this?" the man rubbed his hands together and his eyes roamed all over Julie's body, barely looking her in the eye.

"I take we're up here," the man began to proceed up the staircase without waiting for Julie to answer either question and she realised that he wasn't expecting one.

"Let me lead the way," Julie stepped in front of the man and led him up to the first floor landing where her workroom, formally Peter Forest's bedroom, was located.

The man put his hands all over her buttocks and legs during the ascent and she was about to bat his hands away when she realised this is precisely what the man had paid for so she endured the indignity. She steered him into the workroom and without any preamble he sat his fat arse down on a chair and began taking off his work boots.

"I want a bit of a snog and some slap and tickle before you spank me. Use that paddle not the cane or the whip because as much as I would like you to, my missus will see the welts and hit the roof," the man said almost distractedly as he took off his trousers and laid them over the back of the chair.

"I can always wipe off the lipstick and makeup but if she sees I've been paying to have my arse spanked she'll go through the roof. She doesn't care that I like being spanked you see but she'd rather someone else do it besides her but I'm not supposed to pay for it," the man informed her as if he was explaining what was wrong with his car to a mechanic.

"Well come on then luv, I haven't got all night," he had taken off his shirt, tie, jacket and cap and carefully folded them and put them on the same chair as his trousers.

The man was standing there impatiently waiting, dressed in grey baggy underpants and threadbare vest which had once been white. He was still wearing his socks. How very lower class, Julie couldn't help but think. She didn't know where to start and the man was looking at her ardently with his piggy eyes.

"Oh! How daft of me. Sorry luv," the man turned around and rummaged in his trouser pocket and produced two rumpled one pound notes and put them on the bedside table and without further ado he grabbed Julie and began to kiss her.

There was nothing romantic about it. The man pulled her close and rubbed his groin on her while he rained sloppy kisses on her. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and squeezed her.

The man tasted like Woodbines and Watney's extra milk stout and had obviously just come from the pub. Julie realised that two pounds was a lot of money to this man so she better start giving him what he paid for.

She returned his kisses and slipped her tongue into his mouth and put her arms around his shoulders affectionately. She could feel the man becoming tumescent in his underpants, his thick stubby todger poking her in the belly like a clothes peg.

Julie reached under his overhanging belly into the man's underpants and squeezed his cock.

"Not yet luv, that thing will go off like a banger on Guy Fawkes night if you keep that up," the man took her hand away and went back to kissing her.

Julie was not particularly aroused but also she didn't feel repugnant. Once she realised that the punter was just an ordinary man looking for something that appealed to him that his wife wouldn't give him, she relaxed. She put a little more effort into kissing the man whose hands were roaming around her backside, squeezing her buttocks through her knickers and alternately rubbing the tops of her stockings. She noticed that his hands went nowhere near her cock which was taped between her buttocks.

She was actually beginning to like the feel of the man's coarse hands on her body. It made her feel a little cheap and a little dirty and unexpectedly she realised that she liked that. In the safety of her own home with a man she would likely never meet again or conversely might become a regular; it was intriguing and exiting.

"Alright love, let's get down to it. I've been a naughty boy and I need to be spanked," the man said chuckling at the absurdity of it.

Julie was a little lost but she picked up the paddle. She had acquired the corset, the boots, the paddles, the cane and the riding crop at an adult shop in Soho. They weren't cheap but the two quid on the dresser would more than cover her purchases. After that every penny she earned was profit.

She stupidly waited for the man to lie on the bed and he grunted at her impatiently.

"Your cue to sit on the bed so I can lie across your lap darlin'" the man smiled at her and she complied.

The man laid his considerable weight across Julie's lap and sighed. She never did understand why some men liked to be spanked but she didn't judge him.

She lifted the paddle a little trepidatiously and brought it down on the man's plump buttocks, trying to avoid the noxious odour coming from his tatty underpants.

"Come on luv; give me good spanking, I've been a bad boy," the man wriggled in her lap and Julie realised that his stubby cock was hard again and pressing on her leg.

She gave him three hard slaps with the paddle and the man gave a sigh of appreciation.

"Pull down me kegs luv and lay into me; I'm getting close," the man said excitedly.

Julie pulled the man's underpants down, trying not to look at the stains. His fat bottom was chalky white and dimpled, a rosy glow marked the place she had paddled him. She could feel the man's cock throbbing between her legs and a dribble of pre-ejaculate dripped onto her thigh which she found a little offensive.

She brought the paddle down hard on the man's buttocks and the man began to writhe appreciatively on her lap.

"That's it luv, go for it," the man gasped, bucking and wriggling in her lap as she brought the paddle down repeatedly on his chubby, pasty white backside.

The man was groaning and sighing and Julie wasn't sure if was from the pleasure or pain but she didn't care. The more the man rubbed his cock on her stocking-sheathed legs the harder and faster she paddled him.

She lay into the man who was writhing like a stuck pig. She could feel the heat from his stubby cock on her leg and the warm ooze of his precum on her flesh. She spanked him even harder and the man moaned appreciatively. She was so taken with her work that it wasn't for some time that she realised that the man had forced his cock between her legs and had ejaculated.

The tops of Julie's thighs were suddenly warm and wet and the musky smell of semen assailed her nose. The viscous spend was soaking into her stockings, which for some reason enraged her and she continued to spank the fat old man.

"Ok darlin' that's enough thanks," the man rolled off her and Julie looked down to see a creamy puddle of spunk between her legs where the man had been lying.

"You may be new to this luv, but you certainly give value for money. I'll probably come back next payday," the man was pulling up his stained underpants and reaching for his trousers.

Now that the transaction was complete Julie felt awkward and uncomfortable. She snatched a handful of tissues off the bedside table and dabbed at the puddle of semen cooling between her legs.

"Sorry if I hit you too hard," Julie said apologetically.

"Don't worry luv, it was perfect," the man was buttoning his shirt, not looking at her.

"But your bottom is so red," Julie said sheepishly.

"Nah. Don't worry about it luv. I'm used to it. It'll all be gone before I go to bed and if the missus want's a shag she'll think I'm a legend because I'll last a while longer than my usual couple of minutes," the man laughed at his own joke, wiping her lipstick off his lips with a wad of tissues.

He finished lacing his shoes and stood up.

"That were a nice little session sweetheart and you are gorgeous. See you next time; I'll see myself out," the man said, sounding very pleased with the services provided.

The man bounded down the stairs and Julie followed behind him but before she got to the door the red telephone began to ring. She picked up the handset, watching the fat man let himself out.

"TV Julie," she said in her sing-song voice.

"TV... I take it that means you're a tranny right?" the man on the other end of the line said.

Julie said nothing. Her tart card was explicit enough.

"And you only do hand relief?" the man's voice went up a notch.

"Hand relief is a two pounds, just like the card says," Julie was getting annoyed with the punter already.

"I don't want anything else; I'm in a hurry. I won't even take me clothes off. Just pull out me todger and whip it off and them I'm gone," the man explained and Julie shuddered at the thought.

But this was now the game she was in.

"Twelve, Black Prince Road, Lambeth," Julie quipped.

"Perfect. It's on the way home," the man hung up.

Julie debated whether or not to change her stockings but by the time she had drank another gin a tonic whilst thinking about it there was knock on the door.

This time she didn't hesitate. A quick glance through the peephole to make sure it wasn't a neighbour then she opened the door and a tall skinny man carrying a newspaper wrapped parcel under his arm stopped inside.

The unmistakeable smell of fish and chips and vinegar assailed her olfactory senses.

"You're a looker aren't you? Wish I wasn't in a rush I'd love to shag you but dinner is getting cold and the missus and kids are starving. I just ducked out to go the chippy and I saw your card," the man said all this whilst unbuttoning his flies and extracting a rather prodigious erection.

"Not here. Upstairs in the workroom," Julie growled angrily at the audacity of the man.

"Two quid's a bit steep for a wank. I can't even kiss you because the missus will see the lipstick and smell your perfume," the man whined as he followed Julie upstairs having left his parcel of fish and chips on her hallway sideboard.

"You saw the card. It's two quid for hand relief," Julie said.

"Yeah but I ain't getting any kisses or cuddles am I?" the man whined.

They got to the workroom and the man pulled out a one pound note.

"It's two quid!" Julie knew she had to stand her ground otherwise word would get around that she could be played.

"What about a suck?" the man grinned and slapped another pound on top of the one in his hand.

Julie was getting exasperated.

"Come on luv, me dinner's getting cold," the man waved the one pound notes at her and Julie eyed the money.

She needed it.

She never knew exactly why, maybe impatience to get rid of the man or more likely she just wanted money.

"Five quid!" Julie blurted out.

The man whined but he added three pounds to the notes in his hand.

Julie snatched up the notes, dropped to her knees and took the man's penis into her mouth.

She had never done anything like this before and had no idea how to perform fellatio but it didn't matter. The man grabbed her head as soon as Julie's lips enveloped his cock and he held her still while he unloaded his jism into her mouth.

Julie had no choice but swallow. The ejaculate, surprisingly, was not repugnant. It was creamy, salty and musky with a bitter piquancy.

The man pulled his cock from Julie's mouth and zipped up.

"That were a real treat luv, I'll come around again when I've got more time. There are things I'd really like to do to you," the man said over his shoulder as he hurried through the door and down the stairs.

Julie stood on the landing watching the man pick up his newspaper wrapped dinner and he was gone out the door in a flash; the only evidence that he been there was the lingering odour of fish and chips in the air and the bitter taste of his semen in her mouth. The whole incident had taken no longer than five minutes.

She looked at the crumpled one pound notes she was clutching in her hand and began to laugh.

To be continued