Christmas Stockings

Christmas Stockings

He looked across at her again, once more she caught him in the act; so much for trying to play it cool. On the other hand, whenever he looked up, she seemed to be looking at him; was it mutual admiration? He'd been in the job for eight months now; most days he'd thought the same thoughts and asked himself the same question.

It was 1979; Adam was twenty-seven years of age, tall and slim with short fair hair. He was married but separated; divorce proceedings were ongoing. His failed marriage was childless, the financial settlement had been agreed upon and the decree absolute would soon come into effect. He'd been married for two years when, in his previous job, he'd got too friendly with a female colleague. His wife had assumed the worst and had slept with an old boyfriend in retaliation. Their marriage fell apart, his wife's parents bought his share of the house and he moved into a small one-bedroomed place on the outskirts of the city.

Vicky, the object of his current infatuation, was also twenty-seven. She was taller than average, slender with long, straight brown hair and gentle eyes. She was quiet and a little shy, but she was also friendly and intelligent. She'd been married for five years, had no children and lived a couple of miles from the office, in the same direction as Adam's house.

They were both leaders of small teams within a section of the local education department. Adam had joined the section at Easter, his desk faced Vicky's desk which was at right angles to his. She was about thirty feet away from him in the open-plan office. He watched her as she got up from her desk to go to a filing cabinet, she wore a woollen jumper and a black, A-line, knee-length skirt.

She always wore barely black hosiery and black court shoes; he loved her legs. He watched her a lot; he fancied her; she had a gentle nature and was quite attractive; but she was married. He'd spoken to her regularly about work matters, but she rarely joined in with office banter; she always listened but rarely spoke.

********************

It was Friday, the last working day before Christmas Day which was on the following Tuesday. It was also the day of the office Christmas lunch and, later on, after lunch, there would be a retirement presentation to a colleague who had been with the Council for forty years.

At around eleven-fifteen, he looked up and saw consternation on her face. She was talking in hushed tones to Maud, another of the team leaders. He wondered what the problem could be, he didn't like to see her looking troubled. Maud, a matronly figure in her late fifties, saw him looking and marched over to his desk; she spoke to him quietly so that no one else could hear.

"Adam, Vicky's forgotten Walter's retirement present."

Vicky had organised the collection and had bought and wrapped the gift but had inadvertently left it at home when she'd hurried for the bus that morning.

"Would you be a sweetheart and give her a lift home now to go and fetch it; do you mind?"

"No, of course not," he replied as he reached for his coat, "We should be able to get there and back by lunchtime."

His heart leapt at the thought of being alone with her. They walked together down to the underground car park; she apologised for inconveniencing him but he told her that he didn't mind and he was pleased to be of assistance. He kept sneaking a look at her legs as he drove her home. Her black A-line skirt fell over her thighs, down to her dainty knees that were just visible beyond the hemline. Her perfect calves, in barely black hosiery, and her high heels, made for a very pleasing sight. He liked to think that she wore stockings, but he had no idea whether she did or not.

They talked about work and colleagues, he asked her about her husband, she said little about him except that he worked long hours in his job as an electrician. To his surprise, when they got to her house, she invited him in. There was a distinct frisson of sexual tension in the air. She went through into the kitchen where she had left the retirement gift. As she did so, she asked him if he'd like a glass of water. He followed her; to his delight and amazement, her lingerie was airing on a clothes pulley suspended from the ceiling, French knickers, bras, a suspender belt and half a dozen pairs of barely black stockings hung in front of his eyes.

His cock began to swell; he got the urge to fuck her there and then; if she'd given him the merest sign, he would have done it. He wondered if she'd deliberately set out to seduce him. He couldn't tear his eyes from the drying underwear, she followed his gaze and her face flushed pink; his nerve failed him and he said that they'd better be getting back. On the way back the sexual tension was palpable. Neither of them mentioned the underwear; she hardly spoke to him; he couldn't decide if it was embarrassed or just her natural reticence.

They got back to the office just in time to join their colleagues for Christmas lunch at a restaurant close by. They stayed close together as though there was an unspoken agreement between them; they knew that they would end up sitting next to each other. From time to time, when she laughed at something he said, she laid her hand on his forearm; he liked it and he was attentive towards her.

When the meal had ended and they were getting ready to head back to the office, he helped her on with her coat. She stepped backwards and accidentally bumped against him; he steadied her by putting his arm around her waist and giving her a squeeze. She caught hold of his arm and held it to her midriff, and then she quickly let go before any of their colleagues noticed their brief coming together. He felt a mild churning in the pit of his stomach and wondered whether his growling attachment to her was as much romantic as it was sexual.

They walked together back to the office; he asked what she was doing after work and how she would be getting home. She said she'd got nothing on and would just be getting the bus home as usual. He offered to give her a lift, and she agreed, but they both knew that there was more on offer than just a lift.

They got back to the office at two o'clock. Little work was done for the rest of the afternoon; staff drank and chatted with one another. He talked to other colleagues but he was always aware of where she was and he felt a warm tingle every time he looked at her.

The retirement presentation took place at three-thirty, afterwards, people started to drift off home. At four o'clock, as they were putting their coats on, Lou, the office joker, held a piece of mistletoe above their heads. Vicky flushed with embarrassment, Adam made light of it and kissed her on her cheek. Maud shouted, "No, not like that; give her a proper kiss." There seemed to be no way out of it so they touched lips together and kissed gently for a couple of seconds. He felt the warmth of her lips against his and wished that they were alone.

Minutes later, in the underground car park, as they got into the car, sexual tension was running high.

"I'm sorry that I kissed you like that, it seemed like the only way to shut them up."

"I didn't mind, you can kiss me again if you like."

He squeezed her thigh and felt a suspender strap; his cock twitched with approval.

"Do you always wear stockings?"

"Yes, do you like them?"

"Yes, does your husband like you in stockings?"

"I don't think he's bothered one way or the other."

"Oh, that's a shame."

"Why?"

"Well, if you were married to me, I'd think I was the luckiest man alive."

"Would you?"

"Yes, I wouldn't be able to resist you. I'd be taking you up to bed the moment we were both home from work."

"I wouldn't object."

His cock was beginning to harden; a car pulled into the dimly lit car park; the glare from its headlights flooded into his car so, rather than attract suspicion, he drove off.

They approached the road where she lived; he wanted her desperately.

"Is your husband at home now?"

"No, he won't be home until after ten, he's doing a double shift because it's extra pay at this time of year."

"Do you have to go home yet; would you like to come back to my place for a drink? I could bring you home later."

"I'd love to."

He squeezed her thigh again, her legs parted slightly. He lived a mile or so further out in a suburb. They drove to his place with his hand on her knee, slowly raising her black A-line skirt up along her thighs until her stocking tops were visible. He was as hard as iron and he wished that she would lay her hand on his cock.

He pulled into the close where he lived, parked on his small driveway and turned off the ignition. She turned her face towards his and they held each other's gaze for several seconds as a precursor to a kiss. The kiss was passionate; his hand moved slowly up her thigh until he felt the bare flesh above her stocking tops. His arousal was intense; he could feel the warmth radiating from her pussy. He was about to stroke it through her satin knickers when a light came on in his next-door neighbour's house.

"We'd better go inside."

He followed her to the front door, unlocked it and let her into the small hallway. They went through into the lounge and she removed her coat; he hung it up with his and poured her a glass of white wine.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.

She didn't answer immediately; she took a sip of wine; she wasn't much of a drinker and she'd had two large glasses at lunchtime. She sat down on the settee feeling uninhibited, began to relax and opened up about herself. He sat down next to her on her right, put his wine down and placed a hand on her knee.

"I want you to make love to me; my husband hasn't been near me for nine months. We never did have much of a sex life but now he seems completely disinterested."

"Is he blind? Look at you; you're hot, your legs are stunning and you wear stockings; what more could he want?"

"Not that apparently."

"Do you wear stockings in the hope of turning him on?"

"That's how it started a couple of years ago, but it didn't seem to make any difference. We only ever had sex if I initiated it and he often couldn't manage it; we resorted to making me come with our fingers, I rubbed my clit and he put his fingers inside me. It was always over very quickly, I think he's verging on a-sexual. I don't think it's just me; he doesn't seem to have any sexual desire at all. I can't live like that; that's why I still wear stockings every day."

"What is? I don't think I understand."

"I wear them for myself so that I feel sexy and desirable; I fantasise about being available to men, all sorts of men, you especially."

A jolt of arousal coursed through his already hard cock.

"Fuck, I had no idea, I mean I'd thought, hoped even, that you liked me but I always assumed that you were happily married."

"Appearances can be deceptive can't they?"

"God, I can't imagine what it must be like to go without sex for nine months."

"Who said I'd gone without sex?"

"Wow, are you having an affair with someone?"

"Yes, myself; I've taken to masturbating whenever I get the chance, in the bath mostly, or sometimes a quickie if he leaves for work before me; my red cheeks aren't just from running for the bus."

"Do you... do you use a vibrator," he was becoming highly aroused.

"No but I'd like to, I haven't plucked up the courage to go into Ann Summers yet. I'm an expert with my fingers though, I can make myself come very quickly if I want to, especially if I think of you."

"Fuck, you're turning me on so much, what do we do in your fantasies?"

"How long have you got?"

"As long as we need."

"I like to imagine you having me on my desk at work, we stay late and you sweep everything off the top of my desk like Jack Nicholson in 'The Postman Always Rings Twice."

"God, yes, I'd love to fuck you like that." His hand crept up under her skirt until it reached her stocking top.

"What else, tell me."

"Sometimes I fantasise about calling round here to surprise you. You would wonder why I turned up on your doorstep, but you'd invite me in. I'm wearing a trench coat, and high heels with just a suspender belt and stockings underneath; I'd unbutton the coat and reveal myself to you, you can't resist me and you take me on the settee."

He played with a suspender clip, "Fuck! I had no idea that you had such a fabulously dirty mind."

She took a gulp of wine and put her glass down, and then she reached for his belt and began to unbuckle it.

"And if I'm having a leisurely bath and feeling horny, I imagine myself in a black dress with heels, stockings and a low-cut basque. We're in a hotel, at a ball where all of our colleagues and everyone from head office is dressed up. The men can't take their eyes off me and they all want to have me but I choose you. I walk up to you and take you by the hand; we have a slow dance and I can feel your hardness pressing against me. When the music stops, I lead you up to my room, close the door behind us and kiss you as I strip you naked. Then I take off my dress, take hold of your hard cock and lead you over to the bed where I push you onto your back. You lay there with your erect cock throbbing; I climb on top of you and fuck you silly until we both come hard. I think that's my favourite fantasy."

By now he was almost beside himself with lust. As she finished her fantasy, her legs parted and he accepted her invitation to touch her pussy. His warm fingers slid over the silky bare flesh above her stocking tops, she sighed her approval; he ventured further and made contact with the gusset of her silky French knickers; he felt the heat from her pussy radiating through the fabric against his fingertips.

He dragged a thumbnail over the smooth material, down the cleft between her labia; he pressed her knickers lightly into the entrance to her vagina; as he moved his thumb in slow little circles, she dampened the gusset with her pussy juice, she groaned and pressed his fingers against her, she wanted them inside.

She still had one hand on his zip; she tugged at it so that she could get access to the bulge in his underpants. She pulled on the waistband, exposed the top three inches of his erect penis and let out a long sigh of appreciation. Then she took hold of her jumper, pulled it over her head, threw it on the floor and reached behind her back to unclip her bra.

With a flourish, she revealed her beautiful breasts with their pretty nipples and dark aureola. He breathed hard out of his nose but before he could react, she removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, her hands were all over his torso; she pushed his shirt over his shoulders while he unbuttoned the cuffs and tossed it onto the floor with her jumper.

He picked her feet up and swung her legs onto the settee, then he quickly removed his shoes, socks and trousers. She wiggled out of her knickers and opened her gorgeous stocking-clad legs; her black A-line skirt had ridden right up around her hips and gathered seductively in folds around her; he knelt between her legs and lowered himself onto her; as he did so, she looked hungrily at his erect cock and took it in her right hand; she laid back and guided him into her warm, wet vagina.

She was tight and firm; he'd never had a pussy like this; it gripped him as he slowly inserted himself. He forced her open, the feeling was incredible, her cunt swallowed every inch of him, and her eyes seemed to grow larger as she yielded to his manhood. He took her right breast in his mouth and sucked her nipple, she gasped and squeezed her other nipple between her thumb and fingers.

Her back arched, she groaned and reached down and cupped his balls; that was almost more than he could stand. The sensations in his loins were intense; he pulled her hand away and made the first of many slow, methodical thrusts into her. They moved together like one body; she followed every thrust and gyration of his pelvis with her own; he held the back of her head with one hand and supported himself with the other. She clutched at his biceps and sighed at the firmness of his body; he continued to fuck her slowly, his hard cock rearranging her rippling vaginal muscles with every stroke.

"Oh, God, fuck me harder you gorgeous bastard, make me come for you, I've never been fucked like this; I want you to take me now, oh, make me come please."

He gradually increased the speed and depth of his thrusting until she dug her nails into his muscular back and wrapped her thighs around his waist. Then she fell back and let him plunge into her. Her orgasm started in her toes and rushed up along the inside of her thighs and into her clenching cunt. Her body spasmed; she came and came for well over half a minute; she carried him in her wake, arching her back as he filled her with his fluid. He felt the intensity of his orgasm in every extremity of his body; they collapsed together breathlessly and caressed each other.

"Victoria, that was spectacular," he whispered into her ear.

"Mmm, that sent a tingle up my spine."

"What did?"

"You calling me by my full name, promise me you'll always call me Victoria when we're alone together."

"So, we're going to do this again? Are we going to have an affair?" he asked hopefully; he knew that he was falling in love with her.

She seemed to realise that she'd gone too far, "Let's not discuss that now, let's just enjoy the moment."

They lay on the settee together for some time, basking in an afterglow. He was still lying above her, propped up on his left elbow, with his right leg between her legs; his come-covered cock glistened and left a trail of semen and pussy juice on her stockings.

He loved the way she looked: her long brown hair framed her face, her breasts spread apart with their pert nipples and dark aureola, the material of her A-line skirt clustered around her waist and hips, suspender straps running along the top of her thighs and attached to her barely black stocking tops, the contrast between her black stocking tops and milky white thighs.

"You have the most beautiful legs; I can't keep my eyes off them in the office."

"So I've noticed."

"Have you really? I thought I was being subtle."

"Well, you must have known that I've been eyeing you up as well?"

"It's odd when you think about it, eight months we've been working in the same office, glancing across at each other, but when our eyes meet we pretend that we weren't looking at each other at all. We've spoken about work and we've sometimes been involved in chitchat with the others, but I don't think we've had any physical contact, except when we shook hands on my first day. And now here we are, when I set off for work this morning I had no idea that I'd end up fucking you on my settee."

"Mmmm, but I'm glad you did though, just think, if I hadn't forgotten Walter's retirement gift, none of this would have happened."

"I know, when did you first think that we might end up in bed together? For me it was when I saw your stockings on the clothes airer."

"I'd forgotten that I'd left them there, I was in such a rush to catch the bus. But the moment I knew was when you squeezed my waist in the restaurant; your touch made me tingle in all the right places."

They sat up, picked up their wine glasses and toasted her forgetfulness.

"Take me up to your bed please; there's something I want to do to you."

"It'll be my pleasure."

"I do hope so."

He watched her climb the stairs, hips swaying in her skirt, stockings and heels. They entered his bedroom; he switched on the bedside lamp; it was more atmospheric than the ceiling light.

"Lie on top of the bed for me, on your back."

He tingled all over in the hope that she was going to put his cock in her mouth; he wasn't disappointed. She knelt beside him, took hold of his rapidly expanding cock and caressed it until it was as hard as iron.