The Cottage Ch. 01

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Teen TV hides in closet and watches mom with uncle.
7.9k words
4.35
102.2k
52

Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/20/2022
Created 03/15/2012
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MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
3,905 Followers

Mike Harris was seventeen years old when the worst blizzard ever to hit Chelmsford forest struck in December 1986. That is when this story really begins. But first we need to learn a little about Mike Harris before that fateful winter's day.

Mike's father had left the family home when he was still a baby. He lived at home with his mother Doris and his older sister Charlotte. He had been an 'accident' his mother said. He wasn't planned; and his mother made no secret of the fact that she thought his arrival had been the catalyst that had led to her husband leaving her and their already shaky marriage.

His mother worked as a secretary for a legal firm and what little spare time she had from work she spent socialising with the staff from the office. His sister pretty much ignored him as he was growing up, concentrating instead on her small circle of girlfriends and of course her many boyfriends who seemed to come and go with monotonous regularity. Sometime during his adolescence he came to realise that Charlotte had a reputation; and that she was what was unflatteringly referred to in those days as 'the town bike'.

Not that lack of family affection particularly bothered him; he preferred his own company. Nor was his upbringing totally loveless; his mom and his sister readily showered with him with affection on his birthday and at Christmas. They also took annual holidays together at the cottage that they shared with the rest of the Harris family. It wasn't that his mom and sister didn't love him; it's just that they didn't have much time for him.

Mike grew up a loner, he spent most of his spare time indoors reading and watching television. He liked descriptive novels where the hero rescued the heroine from the clutches of the villain. He liked movies and television shows of the same genre. It wasn't until puberty that he realised he was identifying more with the heroines in the stories rather than the heroes and he begun to wonder why.

It was during his adolescence, around the same time that he realised his sister was a slut, that he admitted to himself that he had a predilection for women's underwear. But we will come back to this later.

The Harris clan was scattered across the shire, they were mainly working class stock who only got together for special occasions. Family celebrations were very much restricted to births, deaths and marriages, they were the sort of family who seemed to be happy not living in each other's pockets. They had one asset that they all shared and treasured. A cottage deep in Chelmsford wood.

The small cottage was set on a modest plot of land next to a small lake. A single dirt road wound three miles through the woods to the cottage and the nearest neighbour was a good mile away. There was no electricity line and a hand pump provided water from the lake. One of the more affluent families had installed a small generator but most of the visitors to the cottage preferred to use the combustion stove, which also provided hot water, and the kerosene lamps were more than adequate to light up the small two bedroom, one bathroom cottage.

The cottage had been in the Harris family for so long that no one really knew when or how the family acquired it. The cottage was shared amongst the five Harris families and an annual schedule was drawn up at the beginning of each year ensuring that the most popular spring and summer months were allocated fairly.

Mike considered it good fortune that his mother hadn't remarried because then they would no longer be members of the Harris clan and would forfeit their rights to the cottage. That said, because Mike's father had left them so long ago, they were only begrudgingly given access to the cottage, and their allocated periods seemed to be disproportionably in the autumn and winter.

Mike loved spending time at the cottage. When he was younger he would go to the cottage with his mother and sister and swim in lake, fish, hike and ride his bike along the forest trails. It was the only place he took an interest in the outdoors. As his sister got older she lost interest in the cottage and Mike had to plead to get his mother to take him. By the time he was thirteen his mother and sister had lost all interest in the cottage but his mother allowed him to go there by himself now that he was a teenager. The truth was that even though she couldn't give a shit about the cottage she didn't want her side of the family to give up on something she thought they had right to.

And so we return to Mike's penchant for ladies underwear. Living with two women who ignored his presence to a great extent Mike grew up surrounded by female paraphernalia. His earliest memories are of using a bathroom where stockings, panties and slips were rinsed in the sink and hung up to dry. The stockings eventually gave way to pantyhose and cotton panties and slips became satin, rayon and nylon. They hung from the shower curtain and towel rails like mystical talismans. He knew they were taboo; girl's things that boys had no right to touch. Mike couldn't remember when he first lifted one of the fascinating items down from the shower curtain rail and bought the silky garment to his cheek, caressing his body with the sensuous nylon and satin.

The sensation of the sleek fabric on his skin was like nothing he had ever experienced in his short life. What probably also nourished his fetish was the way his mother and sister dressed and the behaved around him. When he was twelve his sister was eighteen and she dressed in eighties kitsch. Sure she wore a lot of lycra tights and bodysuits around the house and tight pencil skirts, satin blouses and tight-fitting jackets for work. These short skirts were accessorised with silky nylon pantyhose, high-heels, high hair and heavy colourful eye makeup. His mother also wore tight-fitting business suits, satin blouses, high-heels and heavy makeup. Sometimes Mother and daughter even borrowed each other's clothes.

What made matters worse was that they had no compunction in getting around the house partially clothed in his presence. His mother regularly turned up for breakfast dressed only in satin slip, bra, panties and hose. Her makeup would already be applied and she would eat her cereal dressed only in her lingerie, putting on her heels at the table, stepping into her skirt and pulling on her blouse and jacket just before leaving for work. Sometimes she would even ask Mike to tuck the back of her blouse into her skirt and zip it up or to buckle up her shoes if she was wearing sling-backs.

Mike's fingers would inadvertently come into contact with her silky slips and blouses and her gossamer nylons while he did these tasks; and the garments felt far more luxurious filled with a warm perfumed body.

His sister was not quiet the exhibitionist that his mother was but she also seemed to ignore his presence and often sat with her legs open or lie on the couch with her skirt riding high on her thighs. Charlotte had left school at sixteen and had a job as a shop assistant in a ladies clothing store. She didn't earn much but she loved the job because she was required to dress nicely for work and she got good discounts on her clothes.

Mike figured it was no surprise that he was developing a fetish for lingerie and hosiery being surrounded by it almost constantly. He knew that boys should admire the women wearing these garments but he knew they should not actually be obsessed with the garments themselves.

He didn't have an incestuous bone in his body and he did not lust after his mother and sister but he lusted after the clothes they wore; the feel, the texture of their lingerie and the smell of their makeup, powder and perfume. In a subconscious way he was jealous. He wanted to wear the pantyhose, the panties and the slips that they wore. Why couldn't he? Why couldn't boys wear luxurious silky underwear instead of boring cotton briefs and singlets?

And so it started. One day while his mother and sister were at work Mike found himself in the bathroom staring at the array of panties and nylons left hung up to dry by his sister and mother. He gently fondled the silky soft objects that had become his obsession. His fascination for the slinky garments had eventually become sexual. He had been masturbating with them; rubbing them over his erect penis as he slowly bought himself to climax. He found it immensely pleasurable to slide the leg of a pair of pantyhose over his erection and then wrap a pair of satin panties around his turgid member and slowly stroke it until he spent his issue in the diaphanous tunnel.

Mike was terrified that his mother or sister would find out what he was doing. He would carefully wash the semen-soaked garments and hang them back up to dry where he had found them; praying his mother and sister wouldn't notice that their lingerie had been defiled.

Then one day it was different; he wanted to feel what it would be like to wear the objects of his desire; feel the luxurious garments against his skin. He sat on the toilet seat and slipped his toes into a pair of his sister's flesh-toned pantyhose and slowly rolled them up his calves; he stood up and smoothed the nylons up his thighs pulling the gusset tight around his buttocks and groin. He had seen his mother and sister don their hose so he knew how to do it properly. The feeling of the cool sheer nylon sliding up his legs and tightly but gently caressing his legs and his scrotum and penis was incredible. It was indescribably erotic and exotic. He was instantly hard.

He slid into a pair of full-cut rayon panties and smoothed them around his buttocks, pulling the waistband high on his slim hips. The panties hissed as they rasped over his pantyhose-clad legs; the rayon was soft and slippery, sliding easily over the nylon hose. He gasped with delight and pleasure. Oh how lucky it must be to be woman and be able to wear such sensuous undergarments every day! He flooded the front of the pantyhose and panties with scalding semen without even touching himself.

It wasn't long before Mike was wearing his sister's panties and pantyhose every chance he got. Later he tried on their bras, filling the cups with socks to make fake breasts; then he tried on a slip, first a half-slip, then he tried on a full-slip. It was exquisite! He would dress in pantyhose, panties, bra and slip and parade around the house while his sister and mother were out. He was terrified that they might come home unexpectedly and catch him; exposing him for the deviant he was. Somehow the fear of getting caught added to the immense pleasure he found being dressed that way.

He felt tremendous guilt and many a time he vowed that this would be the last time but eventually he would return to the bathroom or the laundry basket and help himself to the forbidden treasures. He knew he wasn't gay; he didn't think about men when he wore lingerie; he just revelled in the feel of the garments against his skin.

One day just before his sixteenth birthday he snuck into his mother's bedroom dressed in his sister's pantyhose, panties, bra and slip. He wanted to see what it felt like to wear high-heels with the lingerie. He had a collection of girly magazines; just soft porn really, and almost all of the women in the magazines wore high-heels with their lingerie.

He tried to get his feet into a pair of his mother's high-heeled pumps but they wouldn't quiet squeeze in. Then he found a pair of high-heeled sandals and although they were a tight fit he was able to adjust the straps so he could wear them. He got up from his mother's bed where he had sat down to try them on and unsteadily made his way over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. He was amazed at what he saw.

He stood so that his head was not visible in the reflection in the mirror. He could easily have been looking at the image of a slim young girl. His build was very slight but his legs were well defined. He turned around and was rewarded with the view of a magnificent, tight, well-formed arse. His senses of sight and touch were being stimulated; maybe one more thing? He tottered over to his mother's vanity and selected Poison, her favourite perfume and liberally sprayed himself. God he felt so sexy!

He walked back to the mirror. Mike regularly masturbated looking at pictures of models dressed in lingerie in his girly magazines and now he stared at his own reflection and furiously masturbated. He pulled his penis over the waistband of his pantyhose and panties and stroked himself until his issue spurted forth spraying everywhere. He was so engrossed in pleasuring himself that he didn't think of the consequences.

The slip, panties and hose were splattered with ropes of sticky semen. There were even gobbets of spunk on his mother's shoes and all over the floor of her bedroom.

Then he heard noises from downstairs.

"Mike? Mike? Are you home?" he heard his mother calling.

Mike panicked; he was going to be caught dressed in his sister's lingerie and his mother's shoes and to make matters worse he was soaked in semen!

"It's ok; he's not home," he head his mother say and then heard the ominous sound of high-heels clattering on the stairs.

Mike quickly pulled down his panties and kicked them off; he hurriedly wiped up as much of the semen as could off the floor. The floorboards were still a little damp but you would have to look carefully to see the stain. He walked as quickly and as quietly as could to his mother's walk-in wardrobe and pulled the door too just as she entered the bedroom. Mike looked through the slats of the shuttered door and found he had a decent view of the bedroom. His mother held the hand of a man Mike recognised as his uncle Steve and she pulled him through the door.

"We have to be quick; Mike's probably out on his bloody bike again but fuck knows when he'll come home," she pulled uncle Steve into the room and closed and locked the door.

"This is just so fucking naughty Doris; fucking my sister-in-law in her own bedroom!"

Mike knew his mother was no angel but fucking uncle Steve! Fucking her sister-in-law's husband! What on earth was she thinking? Mike knew that uncle Steve and aunty Joyce were the closest relatives they had, but he never dreamt that his mother and uncle were having an adulterous affair. He had to admit to himself that he found it quite exciting.

If he weren't hiding in the wardrobe dressed in his sister's underwear, scared shitless of being caught, he would probably be immensely turned on. His mother was wearing a snug black mini-dress, a pink satin blouse, black jacket, black open-toed heels, and what appeared to be a pair of ivory coloured pantyhose. It was a simple outfit that showed off her legs to good effect. She was also wearing her usual heavy makeup and lots of cheap jewellery.

She took off her jacket and threw it on the chair near the vanity. Mike breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't taken the time to hang it in the wardrobe; the same wardrobe he was hiding inside dressed in pantyhose, bra, slip and high-heels, holding a pair of his sister's come-soaked panties.

"Come on Steve do me quickly!" his mother panted and held out her hand.

He fingers were bejewelled with rings, her fingernails painted a deep crimson; cheap gold bracelets jingled on her wrists. Steve heeded her beckoning and moved in even closer. His mother opened her legs wide apart and kissed him.

"Come on; I know what you like and you know what I like, now lets do it!" she panted.

Steve pushed up the hem of her short shirt, he exposed the entire front part of her waist right up to the waistband of her sheer white hose.

"No panties Doris? You naughty girl," he marvelled, his hand moved to her pubis.

"I hope you don't go out like this all the time?" he joked.

"Only when I'm meeting you," his mother smiled back.

Mike felt an erection begin to grow. He couldn't believe his mother spoke and behaved this way! It was shocking but it was also very exciting. He noticed he was gripping the come-soaked panties very tightly and he unclenched his fist and opened up the panties so he could press the damp satin against his hose-sheathed penis.

His mother fell back on the bed, pulling uncle Steve down on top of her. Mike had a perfect view through the small aperture created by the wooden slats. His mother lay on her back; her skirt hiked up and her legs wide apart.

"Come on; do me Steve, we don't have all day!" she demanded.

Steve pressed and rubbed through the translucent fabric covering her privates; he must have been hitting all the right places creating the most wonderful friction Mike thought as he rubbed his sister's panties on his cock. Then Steve lowered his head and began to lick his mother, it must have felt exquisite against her clit because the wet spot on the gusset of her pantyhose began to spread.

Doris lay back and closed her eyes, arms thrown up over her head as she let her brother-in-law have his way with her. His hands continued to stroke her thighs and buttocks, he kissed and licked all along the length of her cunt, drinking in the scent of her arousal. Biting with his teeth, he made a small hole in the crotch of her hose and proceeded to make an opening just large enough so he could access her naked clitoris peeking forth from its hood.

Her feet rose up and she clamped her thighs around Steve's face.

"Please don't stop," she softly begged, glancing down to the top of his head.

"I'm so close, please..."

She didn't have to worry. Steve was like a man possessed, intent on nothing more than the feeling of her hosiery beneath his fingers and the nubbin of her clitoris beneath his tongue. There was no mistaking her body language, or the way her increasingly desperate gasps suddenly gave way to open grunts, announcing her climax. Mike was amazed that it was not only he that had a fetish for nylons; his uncle Steve definitely did, and maybe his mother too.

Now that his mother had come it was obvious that Steve wanted some action. Mike rubbed his sister's panties harder against his cock as he watched Steve rise up from his mother's sopping cunt, he quickly stood up, kicked off his shoes and shucked out of his shirt and pulled down his trousers and underpants. His uncle's penis was fully erect, the glans was purple and it looked like it was throbbing; almost angry. Mike couldn't help but stare at that impressive erection, his own penis was throbbing and leaking pre-seminal fluid into the tight gossamer hose.

Mike watched his uncle take each of his mother's legs in his hands, he removed her heels and placed her nylon-clad feet against his broad chest. Closing his eyes, he moved her soles back and forth, revelling in the sensations. He took each foot in turn and kissed and sucked on her toes through the nylon, which his mother obviously found extremely arousing judging by her whimpers and moans. His hands glided along the undersides of her calves and thighs, elevating her legs so that they rested completely against this body.

He hugged her hose-clad limbs close to his chest and Mike watched with fascination as he proceeded to thrust his cock in the space between her thighs. Steve's face was one of unadulterated rapture as he fucked his mother's thighs, and Mike stared fascinated at the obscene sight of his uncle's engorged glans appearing and disappearing from between his mother's legs.

"Does that really feel good Steve?" she asked.

"You have no idea," he rasped; sweat breaking out on his skin as he moved his hips ever faster, creating the most intense friction on his cock between the pale white nylons.

Uncle Steve nuzzled and kissed her feet, then held her legs firm once more as he redoubled his efforts, the smears of pre-seminal fluid wetting her pantyhose an unmistakable testament to the level of his arousal.

"Are you going to come like that," his mother asked with a quivering tone.

MicheleNylons
MicheleNylons
3,905 Followers