Nylon Conquest Ch. 01

"Mmmm, sweet Lilith." she said. "That was nice. I'm going to have you undress me more often. I just about came right there." She lowered her leg and placed her other foot on the other side of my form, so her thigh was directly above me. "Try again. Second time's a charm."

I took more time with her right leg. I used every tactile advantage I had gained since my operation to sense where to touch her and how. I massaged her upper thigh just below her pussy, which I could sense was throbbing in lust. Through my ultra-sensitive fingers, I could tell she was ready. I separated my hands and turning one to each inner thigh, I gently caressed and massaged her silk clad skin, kneading the muscles ever so carefully. My fingers sensed electricity there, deep within her, building with each caress. When I sensed, no, when I KNEW she was at the exact place I wanted her, I extended the fingers of my left hand and tickled her clit, skimming my fingers mercilessly around and around her sex. Somehow, I knew exactly how much pressure, exactly where to tickle, where to caress, where to massage.

In seconds she came. Violently. Larissa bent over and beat the mattress with her fists. A gush of femcom washed through her pantyhose and all over me. "Ahhh," she screamed. "That was amazing! How did you know? You knew exactly what I needed and where. Exactly."

When she had calmed down, I told her. "It's this new sense of touch. It was as if I could feel your nerve endings. I could feel your orgasm building. When you got to where I wanted you, I struck. I just knew."

"Well," Larissa said, "if that's your new super power, I'm your Lois Lane." She sat in the wheelchair with a thump and caught her breath while I dried myself of the torrent from her cunt. After she had composed herself, she absently pulled off the right stocking as she appeared lost in thought. After about a few seconds, she turned to look at me. She extended her wet tongue and licked her full red glossy lips. "My turn," she said.

She stood and held her stockings from their lacy tops so the length of them hung above me, with the toes just brushing my chest. They were gossamer silk, nearly transparent and oh, so soft. And they had just been clinging to her glorious legs.

She lowered the length of the nylon stockings to my body and swept them over my skin, starting with my legs, around and around my groin (where she lingered) then on up to my face.

"Sometimes I love to sweep my nylons all over my vagina before I put them on. They feel so luxurious and silky soft."

She wasn't kidding. The silky nylon raised goosebumps on the nerve endings of every part of my skin. I was beginning to believe the operation had enhanced the rest of my body too, because the silky drape of the nylons raised tiny electric shocks wherever it touched me. I swooned when she drew the stockings over and around my face and down to my balls. There she loosely wrapped them around my genitals and let them sit for a moment before pulling them free. The stockings unwound from around my dick, so smooth and silky they never snagged, never hung up. Slowly, languidly, the stockings slid around my shaft as she drew the full length of the silk towards her. I'd never felt nylon on my cock before and it was explosive.

"I can see you liked that."

No shit. My cock was throbbing from anticipation. I had no idea what Larissa had planned.

"Now for the best part," she added.

She sat on the bed beside me and crossed her legs in my direction. Her lower thigh was two or three inches from my face and the top of my head was framed by her upper leg (she knows the effect her legs have on me - this was no accident).

Larissa laid one of the stockings along my chest and over my face, with the foot draped over my head. She let me feel the tops of the stockings with my super-sensitive hands. The lace top was infused with a rubbery compound, giving friction on her upper thigh, to keep it in place, I knew. I could sense the tiny undulations of the stitching, the smooth but imperfect ridges on the rubbery rim. The soft lace was slippery and sensuous, and the thought of this glorious fabric stretched around her upper thigh all day was heart pounding. I looked into Larissa's eyes and she rewarded me with a knowing smile.

"On a whim, I decided to wear holdups today instead of stockings." She showed me the top of her stocking. "The heavier lace at the top of the holdup, with the rubber around its rim, is called the welt. Normally the welt is tight, with enough friction to keep them nicely in place on my legs. But I'm layering today, as you noticed, and the ultra-sheer pantyhose I'm wearing underneath is too slippery to give the holdups the friction I need for the day. So I wear garters to keep everything nice and tight. Besides, they make me feel extra sexy anyway. You like?"

I nodded. The lacy welt was black and about four inches deep. It was elaborately stitched in swirls and patterns that resembled a series of whirlpools. As I looked more closely, the whirlpools seemed to rotate. Side-by-side, they rotated slowly in opposite directions. I shook my head and marveled at the optical illusion of the complex thread work.

"I knew you would. Let me give you a small taste."

She picked up my hand and closed it with her fingers to make a fist. Then she held the welt open and slid my arm inside the stocking. With both hands, she drew the stocking along the length of my arm. I felt the gossamer fabric slither along my skin, sending shivers up and down my torso. Larissa knew exactly what I was feeling. She pulled the entire length of the soft nylon stocking up my arm, taking her time to slide it slowly to my shoulder. I could tell she was watching my reactions closely. I nodded, a tiny smile on my lips. Encouraged, she took the loose silk around my wrist into her fingers and pulled it towards my elbow until it was taut, so that my hand was inside the foot of her stocking, tightly confined in the reinforced heel and toe. My fingers were on sensory overload as I opened my hand and brought it to my face. I swished the stocking foot around my cheeks and mouth, smelling the residue of my wife's gorgeous feet. I marvelled at how my sexy wife could possibly wear these stockings all day without being in a constant state of arousal. But of course, I realized, she kind of is.

Larissa let out a small breath. I could tell she was getting a little excited.

"Well," she said. "That obviously went well. Let's take this little experiment a little further." She took a handhold of the stocking and gently drew it off my arm, sliding it down and off my hand. The near-transparent glossy fabric hung loosely in her hands.

She leaned over and took my cock in her hands. Then she slid the lacy welt of the stocking over my dick. Excited, I think I knew what she had in mind. Forgetting nothing, she placed the stocking once again on my chest, with the foot on my face. Gently, she drew the lacy fabric down with her fingers and wrapped the rubbery rim around my cock and balls. Lingering there for a moment, she made sure my genitals were fully encased in the clingy welt, gently patting smooth the silky fabric as she worked. Through the gossamer of the nylon, I could see my throbbing dick inside the stocking. Then with the thumb and forefinger of each hand, she began to slowly draw the stocking down along my cock, gathering it at the base.

As the nylon slid off my face, down my chest and around my cock, the feelings were magnified a hundred times. Wave upon wave of sensory shocks swept over my entire body, and I let out a whimper. Larissa smiled and continued her ministrations. As more of the stocking gathered at the foot of my cock, it grew more confining, with the enhanced sensory overload that produced. My dick throbbed and twitched in response. The silk sliding over the skin of my shaft was the most sensuous feeling I've ever encountered, yet gentle enough that I didn't cum. I swooned again when Larissa finally pulled the toe of the stocking down around the head of my dick. She held my cock upright. The sight of my shaft imprisoned in the silky embrace of the nylon stocking that had just recently clung to her glorious legs was intoxicating.

Larissa put both her hands around my nylon-encased cock and began to massage it with her long, slender fingers. She smoothed the stocking around my dick to maximize the sensations, then wrapped her hands around its length to gently squeeze and caress it all over. The pads of her fingers alternately worked into the soft parts of my shaft, then down to my balls for a few caresses, then back up and around the shaft again. Then over the head and around and around the glans area and back down to the base. She really knew how to apply the full-dick experience. When she judged I was ready, she reverently laid it down and drew eight crimson, glossy fingernails down the length of my shaft. Through the nylon sheath, it felt like sparks were flying off her nails as she tickled me mercilessly. I signaled that I was ready to cum. So ready.

She stopped immediately. "Oh no you don't. Not yet. You do love the feel of the nylon stockings on your skin, don't you?" I nodded. "Now you know a secret too many women have totally forgotten." She held up the other stocking. "These are sexiest, most sensuous tools in a woman's arsenal. When I'm in the mood, which is a LOT, they ramp up my state of arousal whenever I put them on."

"No kidding," I said, turning to her. "This is my first time, and I can't believe how sexy these feel. I don't know how you do it, not cumming all the time while wearing these."

"You don't know the half of it, my love," she said, mysteriously. "Maybe I'll let you in on a little secret. Soon, not now."

"I do envy you, you know," I said. "To have all those silky stockings at your disposal. It's like a secret weapon. I almost wish..."

"Wish what, darling?"

"It's OK. Just a weird thought."

Larissa went silent again. She was thinking. Absent mindedly, she smoothed out the nylon on her thighs. I was transfixed at the sight of her slender hands, with her perfectly manicured long, glossy nails, sliding over the silky fabric with a barely audible swishing sound.

She seemed to come to a decision. Grasping my dick again, she said "I've been thinking about something for a long time. Ever since you gave me that hundred pairs of nylons."

I knew she'd loved that present. She'd spent endless hours in her closet, organizing and sorting and trying on all that I'd bought her. Sometimes she'd come out flushed, and I knew she'd been masturbating. I didn't mind, because when she masturbates, that's just a prelim, getting her ready for my cock. But I never realized until then just how profound an effect that nylon has over her.

"It's a personal risk," she continued. "I'm really exposing myself, because I'm not sure how you'll react. You might not like me so much, for what I'm thinking."

That got my attention. "Larissa. Nothing that you could be thinking would make me love you less."

"I did see how you responded to my stocking on your arm. It made you a little excited, didn't it? That was pretty clear." She hesitated. "OK. I'm going to take a risk, but I have faith in you. I can't stand rejection, but I believe that you're going to like this."

"What..." She put a glossy finger nail on my lips to shush me.

Larissa uncrossed her legs and stood beside the bed. She hiked the hem of her minidress, right up to her waist, exposing her full round bottom, where I could see the top of her glossy pantyhose clinging tightly to her toned abs. The little triangle opening at the top of her thighs was pulled even wider by the tight embrace of her pantyhose.

She inserted both thumbs into the waistband and, moving them back and forth to free the nylon, she worked her pantyhose down and around her bum to the tops of her legs. Switching her hands to the left leg, she worked the pantyhose down that thigh to her left knee. Then she switched to the right one. Sitting on the bed, she gathered the pantyhose around her ankles, inserted her thumbs into the heels and pulled them off her feet.

Larissa tossed the pantyhose onto my prone form. The panty portion landed on my face and I could smell her sex, the familiar scents of fem cum infusing my nostrils. My cock twitched inside its nylon prison.

"OK, big boy, it's time to change it up," my wife said. "I've been wanted to try this for some time, but I never had the courage to ask you. Until now," she said, patted my silky cock. "I think you're ready."

I had no idea what she was talking about.

She picked up the pantyhose from my chest. "Now that you've got a good dose of my pheromones and a taste of nylon on your skin, I'm going to take you to an even higher level. I've wanted to do this with you since I first spotted you in the Carlyle."

She turned around to face my feet. With the garment in her hand, she took the waistband of the pantyhose and placed my feet inside.

"Larissa, what are you doing?" I was stunned. I had no idea she was planning this. "I can't wear pantyhose. In case you've forgotten, I am a guy."

"Look," she said. Suddenly there was steel in her voice. "I've been thinking about this for a long time. This is something I really want to do. Don't refuse me."

Her face was so resolute l that I didn't feel I had the power to say no. Worse, she might look at me differently. I do want us to have a truly liberal sex life, free of inhibitions, with each of us fully empowered to ask for or suggest anything. So if she wants to put some of her pantyhose on me for a little experiment, I guess I can't say no. Saying "no" to a wife's intimate request is a slippery slope to a different kind of marriage. Besides, it's a pretty sexy thing she has in mind. I didn't want to be the guy who dampened the sexual impulses of his stunning wife. So I decided to let her run with her idea. This was important to her. What can it hurt, letting her have a little fun?

"It's OK," I said simply. It was so much easier than fighting her.

She leaned over and hugged me gently. Pulling back a little, she put her lips to my ear and whispered. "Thank you for allowing me my fetish."

Her fetish.

Larissa turned back to my feet. She placed each foot inside its corresponding leg of the silken pantyhose. Working very slowly and deliberately with her fingers, she gathered up the glossy fabric of the left leg into her hands. My breathing accelerated in nervousness and anticipation. This was actually pretty sexy. But I was deathly afraid of how I might react when the pantyhose was actually on my legs. Would I be repelled? Emasculated? Go soft? I didn't want to disappoint my dear wife. So I held my breath and let her do her thing, secretly praying that I would pass her little test.

When she'd gathered all the nylon of the left leg into her hands, she carefully placed it around my toes and pulled the reinforced foot of the pantyhose around my heel. Letting a bit out at a time, she slowly pulled the nylon up and around my ankle. Larissa then caressed my nylon-encased foot with her slender fingers. They glided smoothly across the bottom of my foot and toes. My cock twitched.

"These are 20 denier glossy-finish natural-tone pantyhose with reinforced heel and toe. The denier is a rating of the thickness of the weave. Technically, 20 denier means that 9000 meters of nylon strand weighs 20 grams. So you see it's really a miracle fabric. The smaller the number, the lighter and more transparent the weave. 20 denier is sheer, but you can go much lower. At 5 denier, they're so light and feathery, you hardly know you're wearing them. But you have to be really careful because they're super easy to ladder."

OK so far. It feels odd though. Not like a sock. Tight, but airy. I bent my toes and the nylon resisted just a little.

The room was dead silent. For the first time, my wife acted out her nylon fetish on me. I was used to and much appreciated her love of nylon for herself, as I've said, but this was a whole new game. But I began to understand her fetish. Up until now, my nylon enjoyment was confined to watching my wife's legs, seeing her dress them in nylon stockings and pantyhose, feeling them with my hands and face, eating her pussy while she wrapped her silk-clad legs around my head. Kissing the silk around her thigh. Rubbing her nylon feet all over my face. Massaging her nylon-clad feet. Getting the odd nylon foot job. Showering her with gifts of nylons and stockings. So, looking back on that, I'd say her fetish is my fetish too. I get it.

Larissa took my other foot and drew the nylon over my toes and around my ankle. She turned to look at me. She wore that slutty look on her face that I love so much. This was starting to get very interesting. Licking her luscious lips, she turned back to her work. Again inserting her thumbs into the left side of the pantyhose, her fingers around the outside, she drew the fabric up my leg to the knee. The tight embrace of the clingy silk was at once soft and exotic, and my every sense was on overload.

She turned to the right foot and pulled the gossamer fabric up to the knee. She stopped there and spent a luxurious amount of time on my lower legs, pulling the silky fabric tight and smoothing out any wrinkles and sags.

The silky fabric was completely taut around my lower legs. To get a feel for it, I was able to gently rub the top of one foot along the arch of the other foot. That felt...nice. Sensual, yet somehow alien. I'd never experienced anything like it. So smooth and silky. This ultra-feminine fabric clinging to my legs was so moving, so wicked, my breathing accelerated in anticipation of more. She turned to gauge if she should continue. I nodded, more vigorously than I had intended. She smiled.

Larissa had finished with my lower legs and began to work the silken pantyhose up my left thigh. Again, moving slowly, alternately working around my thigh to ensure it was fitted perfectly, she eased it up to my crotch and left it there, close to the lacy hold up stocking imprisoning my cock and balls. She then worked her way languidly up my right thigh, smoothing and patting the nylon as she went.

My legs were now tightly encased in my wife's nylon pantyhose. As she patted and pulled it taut, her every touch seemed magnified by the silky fabric. I had always thought pantyhose might dull the feelings of touch on a woman's leg. Now I know better. As if reading my thoughts, Larissa drew four fingernails up the inside of my thigh. It was like an electric shock to my system, straight to my brain, sending shivers and quivers up and down my spine and through my dick. Instinctively, I took in a sudden breath.

My wife smiled knowingly. "And that's only 20 den. Wait 'til get you in the ultra-sheers."

Larissa stood, leaned across my stomach, and taking hold of the waistband on either side of my body, she pulled the pantyhose up towards my stomach. I arched my back, very gently so as not to injure myself, and let her roll the waistband around my bum and up to my hips. Pulling firmly on the top, she made everything tight and fast. My cock and her nylon stocking were now imprisoned inside the pantyhose.

Now that my wife had dressed me in her pantyhose, I began to wonder where this was going. Was this a simple experiment, just for the fun of it? I couldn't see where this was leading. Oh sure, the nylon feels very sensuous, but my wearing it doesn't really have a future.

Right?

As if reading my thoughts, Larissa began to caress and massage my legs very gently. Her touch was magical as she stopped in places to squeeze and rub little circles around my inner thighs. She clearly loved the sensation on her hands. I guess as a pantyhose wearer, she knew the effect that touch has on silk-clad skin.