Good in Garters

So, you got a new job as a lingerie model. You go to bridal showers and such and model lingerie. No surprise to me. With your short pixie cut black hair and gorgeous flawless white skin, not to mention those perfectly shaped C-cups with the puffy red nipples and that heart shaped ass that makes men (and some women I bet) cry, you are the epitome of what people want to see in lingerie. Not to mention those curvy hips of yours. No stick thin creepy looking catalog models here. My head immediately swims with the thought of you wearing something sexy.

"I thought this was a normal modeling job?" I ask you. Nope, they decided you would be best in lingerie.

Now, me being your male friend, you figure I am a good person to get opinions from on how you look. You have brought over a huge trunk full of lingerie from your new employer, and you would like to get a male's perspective on what works and what does not.

As we sift through what seems like a treasure trove of silk and lace, I realize this is a step for you and I. We have been friends since high school, but never intimate, although we have come close many times and definitely shared our thoughts and feelings and experiences about sex as well.

Now you want to show me what you look like in some of the sexiest lingerie I have ever seen.

Yeah like I am going to say no.

So, we rifle through the trunk. You immediately find a little teddy that catches your eye, and run into the other room to try it on. I wait patiently for you to come back, curious as to how bold you will be with this.

You enter the room. I can tell immediately that you showered before you came over. A sweet scent precedes you as you walk in. The teddy is blue, not sheer but very nice and silky. It shows off your curves amazingly and makes you look incredible, which I very frankly tell you.

Your pleased smile and almost shy attitude are even sexier than the lingerie. The fact that you demurely say no, then ask me with a shy "Really? Am I really fun to look at in this?" make me almost crazy. When I tell you honestly that you are amazingly sexy, you laugh (the same laugh you laughed since we were young) and smile at me.

As you grab the next outfit and turn to go, I notice the fabric over your breasts pulling tight over your nipples. Several years ago we were caught in a sudden Texas downpour, and that was the first time I saw those nipples. You have cute round breasts, and your nipples are almost bright red.

But what is amazing to me right now is that your nipples are hard as a rock and almost bursting the blue silk over them. I realize suddenly that you have puffies, in that your entire areola, not just the nipple, swells and contracts. Something about it is amazingly feminine, and more than a little exciting.

You laugh a little and pick out another, this time a baby doll nightie all in black.

As I wait for you to change, I notice some red garters and hose with a bustier. A whole set, garters, hose, bustier, and some red panties with black trim. This set would show tons of skin, but only enough to make a person want to see more. This was what lingerie was invented for. (Hell, this is what women with curvy hips and heart shaped asses were invented for.)

When you come back out I startle and look almost guilty as I put them back down. You laugh a little cute laugh at my discomfort and bend over to take the garters set from me. As you do the baby doll drops down and reveals your gorgeous breasts. Just a brief glimpse, but enough to take away my breath. Your nipples are not hard anymore, but still almost cherry red against your pale skin.

"Want to see this one on me?" you ask. You know I do, as I love garters, and my mute nod makes you grin all the more. "I don't know," you continue," my legs aren't what they used to be, I am not sure about stockings."

As you walk out of the room (with my eyes glued to your butt in that baby doll) I have to settle down and take deep breaths.

When you come back out, my breath is gone again. You look heavenly. Your cleavage strains the top of the bustier, and your hips and legs look incredible under the lace of the garters and stockings. The panties ride sideways in 70s style, accenting the curves of your body. The bustier laces up the front, and one of your nipples just barely shows over the top.

I remember after seeing your shy grin to actually close my mouth. I try to give you a compliment, something that sounds objective, like how nicely the garters frame your hips. To my horror, the only words that come out of my mouth are "You look so sexy in that. Truly, absolutely fuckable."

I turn bright red and stammer a bit, trying to collect myself, but you are sweet to me and laugh and give me a light kiss on my forehead. "Thanks, you are sweet," you tell me, as I try once again to rip my eyes back away from the sight of your cleavage. As you turn, still smiling, and pick up the next outfit I pulled out for you, then walk away, I see your beautiful backside. Your hips move sensuously beneath the silk of the panties, and the garters accentuate every movement of your thighs.

As you turn the corner to the next room, I look up just long enough to catch your smile and your eyes. You were watching as you walked away, and you saw my eyes glued to your body. And you are still smiling at me.

You try on two or three more, always letting me pick out what you will wear. As you change I pick out another outfit and lay it aside so you can grab it on your way out.

This time I pick a bustier with no cups, just to see what you will do. I stay away from white and pastels. Your skin is like alabaster or cream, and these colors bleach you out. Even black with no accent does it. But wines, burgundies, deep reds and blues, these all bring out your skin and those amazing brown eyes of yours. This bustier has Velcro cups. It is a sapphire color with black lines and lace. I quietly peel off the cups and bury them at the bottom of the trunk.

Without looking at what I have laid out for you, you take the outfit and move off to the other room to change.

I expect some laughter and a mock stern voice demanding the cups. Instead you walk out, your gorgeous breasts exposed for me, and you stand right in front of me with that cute grin.

Very quietly, almost at the point of being inaudible, I say "Wow."

You look me dead in the eye and say, "I was not sure I could do this. I was worried. But now I am enjoying it."

I smile and nod, wondering about this exhibitionist side of you, and remind you "Just wait until you are at a bridal shower in front of a dozen women."

You start for a second, and I am worried I have upset you, and then I see your nipples undergo their amazing transformation. Soon they are puffed out and proud, looking almost achingly hard.

Neither of us says a word. You look down a little from my face. My eyes follow yours to my crotch, where my hardon is not only visible beneath my jeans, but a huge spot of wetness is spreading. I have been hard for some time now, but had no idea how obvious is was, or that I was leaking pre-come so abundantly. I am suddenly abashed and worried it will be off-putting to you.

You grin again and take the next outfit.

While you are gone I pick out one more. My head is swimming as I find a body stocking all in dark blue mesh. Reinforcements at the bikini zones make it somewhat modest. When you model this, we go through the same questions, does it fit well, does it flatter etc. As you turn to go (taking with you a merry window ensemble) you give me a fake out, point at the fabric covering your nipples, and ask me "Don't you like to see me?"

You model another, and another. We stop for some delivery pizza. As I am paying the delivery guy, his eyes bug out. Looking over my shoulder he can see you clearly, and you have walked into the room wearing a red and black merry widow. He smiles weakly at me, refuses his tip, and walks off in a daze.

I turn to apologize, thinking maybe I forgot to tell you a pizza was coming, but you are just grinning and once more your nipples have gone hard as rocks.

Hmmm, definitely a closet exhibitionist.

We eat a few slices, and you do not even change to do so. It is like a dream to sit with a woman wearing so little and do something as normal as eating. When you finish and go to take the next outfit, you walk right past me.

It takes me several seconds to realize that as you walked past me, I smelled a familiar sweet scent. Yes, your body bath scent, but it was mixed with a more musky scent, one that goes straight to the oldest parts of my brain, the parts that used to bang on rocks and kill with their bare hands.

You are aroused, enough so that I can smell your arousal as you walk past me.

I look at the next set. A lovely garters and hose ensemble, green garters and dark emerald panties. You come in, model for me, and take the green outfit. The emerald part of it has joined the bra cups in the bottom of the chest.

Again I am not sure what to expect. You might ask me I forgot the panties, or you might ask me to check and see if you dropped them.

What I was not expecting was you to walk out and stand in front of me.

The green bra pushes your breasts together and shows your skin off. The garters perfectly frame your body. I cannot help but stare at the perfect triangle of your pubis, dark and silky and stark contrast to your skin.

It is like a dream as you smile at me. I am almost lost in your eyes.

"So, how does this look?" you ask. I am do not trust myself to speak, but my look (and obvious discomfort in my jeans) must say it all. You laugh warmly, kiss my cheek, and grab the next outfit.

This is another baby doll, but it ties in back and takes some time to put on. As you go to change I excuse myself and go the bathroom.

Eight strokes. In eight strokes my cock bursts like it has not done since I was a teenager. Ropes of come shoot out as my whole body spasms and I try not to make any noise. There is not even any conscious thought or fantasizing, just the image in my head of you in green garters.

I wash up, compose myself, and make a promise to behave more gentlemanly.

That promise dries up when I see you waiting for me. The baby doll is perfect. A soft light blue with a pearly sheen. It even has slippers like ballet shoes that tie up to your calves. What it does not have is enough length to cover your hips, and panties. Once more that darkness at the top of your thighs holds my eyes as I drink in the sight of you. Your smile seems to be getting more and more dazzling. I am almost lightheaded as you spin around and laugh infectiously. You grab another body stocking and go to change.

Surprisingly, I doze off!

I think it was the warm food, the emotionally charged afternoon, and the after glow of my tremendous orgasm.

You told me later you took a while manipulating all of the ties and such on the body stocking. When you came back in the room, I was dozing peacefully in my chair with a contented smile on my face.

What happened next? Were you also feeling the effects of the sexiness of our afternoon together? Was the fabric of the body stocking rubbing against your nipples too much to handle?

My theory was different. I think that the whole episode awakened the exhibitionist in you. You had shown me every part of your body one at a time and teased me mercilessly all day. You had even teased the poor pizza guy. My theory is there was only one more way to show yourself to me.

I awakened slowly. The sounds of something soft rustling filled my ears, along with a low noise like a purring cat.

I was slumped sideways on the couch. My face felt funny with sleep lines. I actually felt great so I knew I had only been asleep for a few minutes.

I looked next to me, and my whole world was literally rocked. You were next to me, still in the body stocking. Your shoulder was barely touching mine. I could feel the muscles in your arm bunch as your hand moved. I followed your arm with my eyes, and finally saw your hand. It was almost hidden between your legs as your furiously rub yourself through the mesh of the stocking.

It passes like a dream. Our lips meeting. Your long drawn out orgasm and moans through our kiss. You peel off the stocking in front of me, and put on the garters without panties again. Your hand on my jeans, feeling my hardness through the rough fabric.

Another orgasm as your feel my hardness with one hand and rub yourself with the other. The sound of my zipper, the feel of cool air on my cock quickly replaced by the warm feel of your lips and tongue. You nipples hard against my legs. Your body shuddering and your groans muffled by me in your mouth. You do not even pause while pleasuring me even though a tremendous orgasm obviously ripples through you.

When you crawl into my lap and my mouth finds those gorgeous nipples, I can feel the heat radiating from between your legs. When that heat envelops my cock and you stiffen with yet another orgasm, it is truly like a dream.

Once more it is like only being half awake. You move against me, me pulling you up so I can pleasure you with my tongue. Your long groaning orgasms. Your almost violent and screaming orgasm as I run my tongue repeatedly over your clitoris.

Then, suddenly, you move away from me. You walk to the back of my place, open the door, and walk out onto my back balcony. It is dark now (when did it get dark? You came over at 10 am!)

Some other people in my apartment complex are out, walking dogs, coming and going. We are on the third floor, and my balcony is very dark, but still it is outside and anyone might see if they knew to look. You bend over the railing, the gorgeous heart shape of your backside framed by the garters. I enter into you. We move slowly, looking like we are hugging and just enjoying the night air. You suddenly contract around me, and I see you bite your lip to stay quiet. Your orgasm passes quietly, but barely.

Then mine hits. My cock spasm five times inside you. But the second spasm my come is literally running down your legs. By the fifth you are squeezing me again.

Across the apartments in another building, another tenant switches off their TV. As they go to close their window, a long loud cry of "Oh God!" rings across the complex. They look outside and see nothing, although they catch just a glimpse of two people moving quickly inside off their balcony.

Inside we fall gasping on the cough, then laugh at the sudden burst that you had outside. Our laughter turns to kisses, and then once more you are straddling me and I am inside you. As we move I whisper to you. I make a list for you, each thing I mention brings moans of passion from you. We are going to have sex I tell (you correct me and tell me we are going to fuck, we have sex or make love here at home, but when we move elsewhere we are fucking, and the word turns you on in this reference.) First, we are going to go to a movie. A late one, maybe a few people here and there, and you will wear a skirt with no panties. We will fuck there. Then to a park. Make sure there are no kids, of course, but we will fuck there. A train. The beach. An elevator. The list goes on. Each time we have to think of what might be fun. Skirts for you, loose shorts for me? A bikini for you, pulled aside just enough for me to enter you in the pool? The orgasm hits us both like a freight train. My cock is sore and I know you must be tired. But still, we hold each other and my teeth gently sink into the soft skin of your neck as we come.

When we both awaken hours later, you are in my arms. Your head is cradled in my shoulder. And you have on the same sexy outfit. You awaken as you feel me grow hard and start to press into you again

All I say as we start to move and you awaken fully is "God, you look good in garters."