Nude Stockings Ch. 02

This is a follow on to my Nude Stockings story and explores the same themes. I've reused the initial set up so it can be read as a stand-alone story or you can skip to where the new story is indicated. In the original the main character takes flight in this one he sticks around.

I like the loving wives category but it can be difficult to come up with something different so explored a slightly alternate/ future world reality. It's a quirky fantasy and nowhere near realism, also a bit tongue in cheek, please keep that in mind before you read on. I do spell / grammar checks and proof read but bound to miss some. If that bothers you too much maybe think about reading something else; otherwise hope you enjoy it!

This story is set in the near future.

The divorce rate had reached another record peak, now 91% of all marriages ended in divorce; driven by ever greater self- absorbance, feelings of entitlement and focus on self- fulfilment. Responsibilities and obligations were now less of a factor than in the past. Even marriages surviving often dealt with affairs and transgressions. Individual expectations now varied wildly; with failure rates so high, attitudes to marriage changed and many discounted it as an option. Marriage became seen as a short to medium term commitment rather than a lifetime one; often it centred on wanting to start a family and might end when the kids were grown.

The punitive approach to men divorcing continued and became more extreme. Women's rights and powerful lobby groups now held sway. Marriage and divorce was now firmly in the hands of women.

With fewer people getting married, both Religion and Government desperately tried to find solutions... the whole principle of marriage was in crisis. This led to a wide range of alternative suggestions including 5 and 10 year marriage certificates, open marriage contracts, fidelity clauses, break points, polyamory and mandatory pre wedding counselling. It seemed society was ever more reliant on psychiatrists and counsellors.

One of the most popular alternatives involved a communication of choice by the wife. She would have the option of stipulating the type of marriage she was committing to and communicate this to the congregation. This was seen as a way to share expectations within the couple and their wider network of family and friends, so they knew and could support that decision. The choice was usually reflected in the vows taken but an alternative was the bride's hosiery indicating choice. This stemmed from the wedding garter tradition, where a bride would offer a garter to her new husband.

The couple would have a traditional wedding service and exchange vows in church as normal. In between the service and the night time celebration, the bride would switch to evening wear. During the change she would present a gift of her stockings in a sealed box to her husband. The colour of her stockings illustrated her preferences; if the groom was content he would help his bride put the stockings on before attending the celebration.

Grooms hoped for a choice of white indicating monogamy and lifelong fidelity, but by far the most common choice was nude stockings. This indicted fidelity but reflected being unable to commit about what could happen in the future. After all is was difficult for a 20 year old bride to categorically state what her 50 year self would do in a world where so much changed so quickly.

There were some rarer choices; red stockings indicated interest in bi sexual relations, black an interest in mixed race relationships. Seamed stockings indicated a hot wife who would be looking for well-endowed partners in addition to her husband. Fishnets indicated swinging and grey being open to sugar daddies.

*****

Despite all of this I wanted to marry my fiancé Grace. We had known each other since primary school and just clicked, at 16 we were going out and by 22 were finalising our plans to marry.

I was excited, for me Grace would be the perfect wife. As well as being beautiful we were best friends and I couldn't wait to commit the rest of our lives to each other. She was engaging, positive and for some inexplicable reason in love with me. At 5ft 8 her long wavy red hair with lighter highlights hung down her back. Her blue/ green eyes literally shone matching her bubby personality. I loved the way she fretted over gaining weight, I honestly could never see a change, she had a fantastic figure and made it all seem so effortless.

The choice of a wedding these days is anything but straight forward. Her family church was advising use of a marriage 'contract' lasting until any children were aged 16. Neither of wanted that option, out marriage was more than a vehicle to raise children.

Their alternative was the 'indicated choice' system which we thought suited us better than the other alternatives.

For good reasons most couples agree the approach well in advance. There were some horror stories including a society lady who walked confidently into her reception in seamed fishnets much to her husband horror. A groom shocked to see both his bride and chief bridesmaid in red stockings. Seemingly they had selected him together and he quite liked the idea. A wife in nude stockings who had the best man listed for alternate dances with her husband. A wife in black stockings assuring her husband it would only be a couple of times per year and another wife in grey assuring her husband that it was the best financial option for them and they would be 'mortgage free' before thinking about kids.

It really was a mad world.

Grace's organisational skills were fantastic, supported by an army of friends and family; the church and wedding service were perfect. We retired for a couple of hours 'rest' before the evening celebration and managed an early consummation of the marriage before getting ready to meet everyone for the evening celebration.

I didn't think twice when Grace handed me a box tied with a ribbon. I opened it and saw them: nude stockings... my heart sank.

Grace tried to explain. "I know you were hoping for white, but the vast majority of brides chose nude these days and its encouraged by the women's groups, you know white is frowned upon as being too submissive. And those groups are linked to career opportunities and social standing."

I slumped to a chair and thought about stopping the whole thing, requesting an annulment; no doubt there would be punitive financial implications.

Struggling to form words I managed, "And what is it you might want?"

"Nothing Rob, I promise I love you and I want to be the best wife for you. There is no one else and no plan in mind. It's just impossible to predict the future and it plays out better with the women's lobby. Anyway who is to say where either of us will be in 20 years' time?"

It was true, the women's groups were only too keen to criticise anyone choosing white, but I thought what we meant to each other was bigger than all of that.

"I know where I want to be in 20, 30 and 40 years Grace; I'm making that commitment to you."

"And I don't have intentions other than spending my life with you."

Christ I thought, what about when everyone else sees the colour I will be mortified with embarrassment. Grace seemed to read my mind.

"I've talked my options through with your mum and mine, they are expecting this choice. The bridesmaids have quietly let people know as well. So there won't be any surprised or shocked faces. Any way when was the last wedding we saw white, it's just not the done thing."

"Shame you never thought to include me in those discussions."

"I tried, I really did but I got so nervous every time. I just kept putting it off; I was scared of disappointing you or even losing you, I still am!"

"I thought we were different to other people, special even."

"We are special, this changes nothing about us I only ever want you. Please say my choice is ok."

I frowned at the lack of consistency in her replies and actions. "You always have a choice Grace, so do I, even though that might make my life extraordinarily difficult now."

In the end I accepted her decision but refused to help her put them on. During the celebration I smiled pretended it didn't matter, palmed off the reason as being a women's guild thing and that it meant nothing. Grace seemed unaware of any issue, I noticed her dancing with guys; were they encouraged by her stocking choice or was I being paranoid. I got pretty drunk in an effort to supress all of my doubts. Grace seemed to treat it all as an irrelevance and never mentioned it again; she was just upset I drank so much but was oblivious to why.

Years and years later, my decision to marry Grace was confirmed at the right choice. We had raised 2 children Lauren and Callum relatively successfully and they were off to college and making the most of University life. Now empty nesters in our late forties, I loved the extra time we had to ourselves and was looking forward to our silver anniversary.

Here's the new part of the story:

Our sex lives remained great; the only sticking point was that Grace never had an orgasm during penetrative sex. We tried everything to make it happen, every position and technique but it never worked. Some brief sex therapy session didn't help either other than confirming 79% of women didn't orgasm during penetrative sex. We tried a range of toys as well with limited success. It bothered me far more than Grace, but we settled into regular bouts of pussy eating which did the trick every time. When I was feeling particularly down about it, I asked Grace if she felt like she was missing out, going on to say that she might experience that with someone else. Thankfully I received a severe rebuke; she only ever wanted to be with me and certainly wasn't interested in anyone else. One positive was that Grace never got in faking orgasms and she certainly seemed to enjoy all of our time together.

Years later I started noticing some changes... the most obvious was Grace staring to wear more skirts for work. I asked her about it and she initially excused it as just playing along for the women's guild. When I wasn't convinced she admitted it felt good and liked the attention but it was just a bit of fun. I wasn't happy, her response was that as an independent woman the choice was hers and no man had the right to govern what a woman wore. I thought our relationship was more than her reply suggested; but maybe I was wrong after all.

Over the next few months we seemed to have numerous vague discussions about self-fulfilment and life experiences without any clear conclusion. She then started asking me about fantasies and sharing some of her own. She mentioned swapping and sharing having heard that some guys were into that. When I asked where she had heard about it she palmed it off as a standard fantasy; everyone thought about a Hollywood star or favourite sporting idol after all! I was beginning to wonder if her earlier assurances about only wanting me still held true.

After that she started niggling and picking fault with me, I couldn't seem to do right for doing wrong. I asked her what was going on and she said it was just the stresses of work. Things calmed for a while but then the niggling returned. I'd made a special dinner but she started complaining about the food and being stuck in the house again, clearly something was seriously wrong with our relationship and I blew up about it.

"Grace if you don't want to be with me anymore, just say so and we'll sort it out as adults but I won't be putting up with all of this fucking moaning and feeling that what I do isn't good enough for you."

She was shocked by the outburst, I'd never swore at her before and let most things go. She was at pains to say she didn't mean to complain so much and insisted we were good. I never felt like I got to the root of the problem but her behaviour did improve.

Then one Friday night Grace walked down the stairs looking absolutely stunning. She was dressed in a burgundy bodycon dress which accentuated her breasts and hips. Her blonde hair was pinned with a few curls hanging loose at the sides. It was the style she used on our wedding day. The dress was split to mid-thigh showing a lot of her nylons, her legs made more shapely by sling back heels. Large gold hoop earrings, red lipstick, nails and false eye lashes completed the look. At first I thought she had taken our conversation to heart and this was the start of putting things right... I was way wide of the mark.

Despite my surprise I whistled at her but got no smile in return. Then I noticed something in her hand, it looked like a bracelet.

"You need to put this on for me Rob, it's an anklet."

The significance of the nude nylons and anklet weren't lost on me. "Does this mean what I think it does?"

Grace nodded, "It does, I have decided to exercise the choice I made on our wedding day: I'm going on a date!"

"Who with?"

"It doesn't matter..."

"It matters to me, who?"

"My boss Steve, he has been asking me out for months. Don't panic it's just a first date nothing might happen."

"Fuck off Grace I am not that naïve, you wouldn't do this unless you had already decided."

"Fine then yes, I intend having sex with him, but it doesn't affect us."

"Don't be ridiculous Grace; even if you stopped now and went back upstairs everything has already changed."

"Just if you let it, this won't affect how much I love you. He's a nice guy, you'd like him, he knows all about you and isn't a threat to our marriage. He has shown an interest in me and pursued me for months; I'm flattered and want to explore things."

"No he's not the threat Grace... you are. Has he fucked you at work yet?"

She looked stunned, "No we're professional at work and nothing has happened, this is just a date. I want to explore things and have some fun but will always come home to you.

"Professional but you wore stockings every day, making your wedding 'choice' clear to everyone that works there. I bet it's obvious who you are wearing them for and everyone will know. So add humiliation onto your adultery."

"It's not adultery, I have the right. It's just a date or two. Can you remember asking me if I was curious about having an orgasm during sex with someone else? Well that has been praying on my mind and I want to find out before I get too old. It's not my fault you don't make me cum."

I looked at her, not sure who this woman was in front of me was.

"So it's my fault now, I am suddenly inadequate to meet your needs. My comment was a long time ago and I meant seeking professional help not just fucking someone else."

"I'm sorry Rob I didn't mean that, it came out wrong, I'm just curious, if he is good we might find a way for us to experience that together."

"It's just an excuse Grace, if you want to fuck him at least be honest about it. Is that why you have been treating me like shit the last few months, trying to find excuses to justify what you have been planning."

"It hasn't been a quick or easy decision Rob, I do love you but I feel like I need this. I'm sorry about the way I have been treating you, I guess it has been playing on my mind and impacting us. I think I need to get this out of my system and then devote myself to you just as I have for the previous 25 years.

With pure contempt I simply stated, "You should leave then!"

*****

Grace:

I really enjoyed working as a Personal Assistant to the Chief Executive Officer Steve Edwards. Although an admin job, the fact I worked directly for the boss provided its own type of authority. I felt well respected, even senior managers tried to stay of my good side.

There was an instant connection when I met Steve he just seemed so dashing, confident, powerful and charming. Flirting led to lunches; it was exciting I felt giddy with it.

Steve surprised me by asking what colour stockings I had worn on my wedding day. I admitted they were nudes; he smiled and suggested I started wearing that choice for work.

It felt so strange putting on lingerie and a suspender belt for work. The new 3 piece set included the belt, bra and a tiny thong, they felt naughty, sexy... decadent even. I worried if people would realise and spent a good 20 minutes adding a slip and making sure the lines didn't show through my skirt. I was self-conscious and was sure I caught a few second glances from the other office staff.

The thought of dressing for another man was intoxicating. The fact he was handsome younger and powerful made it even more thrilling. There was some guilt about Rob but the feeling of excitement overcame it. The man who could chose anyone wanted me!

Once Steve saw my outfit he seemed delighted. I let him catch a glimpse of my stocking tops and loved his reaction, he looked to be in lust. I didn't hide or cover it up; I made sure to give him eyeful and didn't object to an odd touch or cheeky innuendo. After that it became a full out pursuit and I loved it, he asked me out repeatedly, the sexual tension was ramping up and I was really curious about being with him.

I confided in Susan, she was the admin manager at the firm; she was also a widow and chair of the local women's guild. She'd already worked out what was happening, so I asked her for advice. I expected her full support but she advised caution, the new laws were intended to protect women rather than enable marital flings. She had met Rob at a couple of works parties and I suspected she liked him, most people did he was that kind of guy. Despite the reservations she confirmed there was little Rob could do legally. However she asked me to think through how it would impact our marriage. I wasn't really listening to that part, as a modern woman I had every right to choose what to do with my body. The fact I had chosen nudes on my wedding day which Rob accepted just made it easier.

Steve and I planned how to manage Rob. I expected an argument and we decided that I should be firm and matter of fact with him, brutal if needed until he got used to the idea. Then I could go back to be a loving wife with the added benefit of a handsome lover.

I made my decision, but couldn't think of a way to tell Rob. He was always quicker and smarter than me in discussion, so I kept my date a secret. I got ready to go out with Steve and then told Rob at the very last minute.

I'd put on new lingerie a blue satin bustier and girdle, which did wonders for my figure and of course the nude stockings. Covering it all with my new dress I walked down the stairs feeling excited.

Once Rob realised what I was proposing he looked both hurt and disgusted. I wanted to take it all back but needed to hold my nerve as I had agreed with Steve. I tried explaining I was simply following the choice from all of those years ago, so it wasn't cheating. What's more that no man had the right to tell me what I could or couldn't do. The conversation didn't go how I had hoped. The feeling of excitement was evaporating quickly overtaken by panic when I saw the way Rob was looking at me.

Then suddenly he told me I should go. I was conflicted... why would he suddenly say that? It left me really uncertain but the arrival of my taxi resolved my indecision and I left for my date with Steve.

Steve looked handsome and sophisticated and kissed my cheek in greeting. He was his usual charming self as we went to a top end restaurant for dinner. But I was struggling to focus; I couldn't shake Rob's words and reaction. I explained it all to Steve and he suggested Rob 'would get over it' once he had time to digest everything. He thought there was good chance Rob would want to reclaim me as soon as I got home. Steve didn't know Rob, that stubborn streak and clarity of right and wrong; it was constantly on my mind to the extent I couldn't enjoy the date at all.

In the end when Steve when to the toilet, I call Rob.