The Outfitter's Advice

"Burgh.. Confound it!"

A lady with attractive and refined features, was perched on the edge of a sofa. Attired in a full floral dress, shiny black heels and pearls. Her greying, dark hair bunched up into a severe looking, matronly-like bun. She was determinedly, and with just a touch of exasperation, attempting to fasten shut a suspender clasp to the welt of a dark-tanned stocking top.

"Oh, come on! There is always one that doesn't want to go, isn't there?" She muttered to herself.

Attached to the troublesome suspender strap and clasp was a woman. She was stood, hands on hips, with her back to the frustrated lady. Dressed only in an ivory-coloured brassiere, matching French knickers and a cream girdle with seven of the eight suspender-straps attached to fully-fashioned nylons. Her foundation wear clearly accentuating her full figured form and femininity.

"Are you losing your touch, Mildred?" The woman turned her head to enquire with a smile. Dark auburn hair dancing off her barely naked shoulders as she did so. Mildred looked up and gritted a smile back.

"You know, Rose. I have been a foundation fitter for nigh on forty years. Yet, these fiddly clasps still scupper me from time to time. And you, yourself, know how much I adore wearing genuine nylons. It must be the price to pay for wearing such pleasurable items!" Mildred chortled naughtily.

Rose flushed, ever so slightly, at the insinuation of enjoyment from garments that had such an erotic and prominent history of sexual connotation. Ravel's second movement of his piano concerto in G, piped through in the background of the living room. Ebbing, sweetly with melancholy, as the movement ascended and fell with heartfelt intensity.

Rose listened whilst she curiously looked around the room. Admiring and appreciating Mildred's taste and decor. Beautiful and sensuous romantic art pieces adorned the walls alongside various retrospective fifties' pin-up illustrations and photographs.

"I do so love this piece of music." Mildred sighed. "Ah, they're we go, got it. Finally!" She announced triumphantly.

Her slender fingers had successfully fastened the clasp at long last. She adjusted and straightened Rose's stockings before playfully, yet gently, slapping her big, girdled bottom. Rose noted to herself the tremor of excitement this induced within her.

"I won't be a minute, dear. I will just go and fetch the full size mirror. You look wonderful, you really do." With that she stood and left the room, humming the Ravel melody to herself.

Rose was glad she had Mildred as a close friend. They had met ten years ago when Rose had seen her advertisement in the local paper. She had always loved wearing traditional foundation wear. Not only for the beautiful designs and comfort they gave to her, but also for the sensual way these items of clothing made her feel.

So, upon seeing Mildred's advertisement she gave her a call and booked an appointment. They hit it off straight away over a cup of earl grey and a mutual love of traditional underwear. Mildred was extremely knowledgeable regarding styles and combinations for Rose. Plus, no more traipsing around busy shops, inhabited by cold, indifferent sales staff, for her anymore.

Mildred was twelve years older than Rose, who had just turned fifty-one a few days ago. A fact she very much liked about their friendship. They could talk about pretty much anything and Rose always felt safe and secure within Mildred's, almost maternal, bond and trust.

"Here we go!" Mildred ushered into the room, wheeling before her an oak-framed dressing mirror. "C'mon, cutie. Time to view my magic at work!" She laughed. Rose reciprocated the laughter and put on her black high heels before inspecting herself in the mirror.

Rose loved her friend referring to her as 'cutie'. She giggled again. She was after all fifty-one years of age yet she felt like a little girl when her friend spoke like this. She had her private moments thinking about the two of them together. It was so private and personal. She had always been very pretty as a young girl and her friend brought back all those wondrous times and she wanted to reciprocate by giving Mildred pleasure whenever she wished.

Rose was always pleasantly surprised by the view staring back at her from Mildred's mirror. She. had long been aware of her attractive, mature sexuality. Made abundantly clear from the admiring glances of gentlemen, and a few ladies also, as she went about her daily business. But, it was always heightened somewhat by Mildred's meticulous handiwork.

"You were right about these French knickers, Mildred. I was so disappointed when you told me you didn't have any Directoire knickers in stock. But, these are wonderful." She smoothed her hands down them to her nylon-clad thighs.

"I do apologise about the DK's. My fuddy-duddy husband forgot to post my order for them." She replied. Henry was Mildred's doting husband. Rose thought he was such a lovely, quiet and unassuming chap.

"Oh, be nice. He adores you, Mildred." Rose playfully reprimanded her good friend. "I know, dear, I know. In fact, to make amends he purchased me these online." She lifted up her dress slightly to reveal a silky-looking, pink knicker leg. Contrasting beautifully with the black seamed stocking, cladding her leg underneath.

"Aww. How sweet! Such lovely Directoire's, Mildred." Rose cooed, as she admired her friend's cheeky reveal. Mildred let her dress fall back down.

"Let me just straighten and adjust these for you, Rose." Mildred reached out to the lace lining on the bottom of the knicker legs. She delicately smoothed them free of crinkles and after doing so, Mildred brought her hand up.

Seemingly by accident, it glided it over the gusset of Rose's knickers. The slight touch of her friend against her plump lips, nestled within the silky material, caused Rose to visibly shudder with pleasure. Was that really accidental? Rose wondered curiously to herself.

She knew very well it wasn't an accident but, this kept up a little charade as it made the movements appear more respectable. As she felt the pleasure, she involuntarily opened her legs making her panty gusset more available. Mildred, for a moment, lost her business-like manner and with two fingers applied a little more pressure in a circular fashion. They both sighed quietly before Mildred recovered.

"There. Good as new." Mildred pronounced. Seemingly oblivious to Rose's shiver of excitement. She began to tidy assorted packets of nylons into a small basket. "So, if I remember correctly, isn't your young 'nephew' Frederick staying with you for a spell?"

Frederick was the only son of one of Rose's childhood friends. She had met Sarah in the school playground. Giddy with youth, they bonded by giving cheeky flashes of their regulation school knickers to the boys in return for treats from the tuck-shop. Inseparable as they grew through puberty and beyond together. Heartaches, drunken girly nights and the like, shaped them both into womanhood.

She had been Sarah's maid of honour at her wedding to Gary. So, when Frederick was born, 'Auntie' Rose was always there to help them both out with babysitting. As, Frederick matured from a teenager to a young man. Rose saw fit to let him earn pocket money cleaning her car and other odd jobs. In the meantime, Sarah and Gary had both developed an increasing passion for long hiking holidays abroad. So, she was more than happy to have Frederick stay with her at home from time to time.

"Is the young man still studying music at university?" Mildred enquired, noticing Rose's distracted expression.

"He is, Mildred. Apparently, he is doing extremely well in his chosen subject." Rose realised that Frederick had not actually stayed with her since he was eighteen, in the midst of studying for his A levels. That last time was the source of Rose's concerned air.

"Oh, that is marvellous, Rose. You must be so proud.. Rose? Is everything ok?" Mildred scrutinised her friend with a look of slight worry. Rose gently smiled and sat herself on the sofa. Mildred immediately placed herself down beside her friend.

"Mildred? Can I tell you something in confidence?" Rose quietly asked. "Oh, sweetie. Of course you can. From our many varied talks, I didn't think you needed to ask" Mildred sounded almost hurt.

"I'm sorry, Mildred. It's just.. It is of quite a sexual matter." Rose nervously babbled. "Well, In that case, I absolutely insist that you confide in me, my dear friend." She placed her hand, comfortingly, on Rose's nylon-clad knee.

"Thank you, Mildred." Rose gathered her courage. "The last time Frederick stayed with me. I noticed that I was mislaying or missing certain items." Mildred interrupted her. "What items, Rose?" Rose laughed nervously.

"God! It seems so silly now. My discarded knickers and hosiery, Mildred." A wry smile crossed Mildred's lips. Rose frowned defensively. "Now, now, sweetie. I am not laughing at you. Please, go on." Mildred urged her friend.

"Well, it did puzzle me and I was making Frederick's bed one afternoon, when.." She paused for a moment. "I found a pair of my knickers and tights under his pillow." She glanced at her friend for any semblance of distaste on Mildred's features. There was none, only an encouraging, caring look. So, she continued. " They had dry stains on them, Mildred. Obviously his.."

"Spunk." Mildred interrupted her. Rose was shocked, but excited by the use of such naughty language from her friend. "Please, Rose. There is no need to be coy with me. Please use the apt words as you carry on. I am unshockable, you know." She patted Rose's knee to signal her to continue.

"I will try, Mildred. So, anyway, they were absolutely encrusted with his.. Spunk" She did secretly enjoy pronouncing such words she thought to herself.

"But, Mildred, that is not the end of it. In my bedroom, that adjoins the bathroom. I have a rather large drill hole in the wall. Left by the last owner I imagine. I have never got around to filling it in so, I just cover it over with a picture. Anyway, one night I heard Freddie moaning to himself in the bathroom. So, I took the picture down and.." She trailed off.

"What did you see, sweetie?" Mildred quickly asked. Rose gathered herself. "Frederick was sat on the toilet with a pair of my knickers held to his nose and a stocking placed over his penis, Mildred." She hurriedly blurted out.

"His prick, dear, his prick. Was it very stiff and hard, Rose? Was the nylon of the stocking stretched tightly over his pink crown?" Mildred enquired curiously.

"It was, Mildred. He was fairly large too. He kept moaning my name as he smelt my knickers and tugged his stiff willy." Rose realised her gusset was starting to warm and moisten.

Mildred, on the other hand, was very calm as she continued to pry for more information. Very pleased with this newfound discovery from her desirable, close friend.

"Rose? May I ask you what you did, as you spied on your young nephew?" She probed delicately.

Rose decided, there and then, to be as bold and explicit as she dared to be with Mildred. "I searched out that pocket vibrator, you kindly gave me as a present. And, I held it over my gusset to tend to my clitoris, Mildred." She could barely belief she had confessed this so brazenly.

Mildred nodded with approval. "That is the exact reason why I gave it to you, Rose. Now, tell me please, what happened next." Rose felt hypnotically locked into telling Mildred every erotic detail. Compelled almost.

"Freddie suddenly cried out, 'Oh, Aunty Rose!' And, Mildred! You should have seen the amount of stuff that spurted and filled my stocking. It went everywhere!" Rose excitedly explained.

"And you, Rose? How was your orgasm? Did your juices soak and drench the knickers you were wearing?" Mildred asked, fully aware of her own excitement dampening the gusset within her loving husband's gift.

Rose relived the intensity of the situation and gasped "He was so excited as he spunked, Mildred. And, he never stopped sniffing at my knickers. He seemed fascinated with my panty gusset." Only then did she remember her friends question about her own feminine juices.

"They did, Mildred! I had to bite my lip to stifle my moans." They both suddenly broke into laughter at the image of Rose trying to be discreet in her joyful pleasure.

"Well, my dear. I have to say that there is nothing wrong at all with what you experienced. Nor, young Freddie, for that matter. In my many years, on this earth, as an underwear fitter. I have heard and experienced a lot, believe me!" Mildred chortled dirtily.

"It is more common than you imagine, for men to find our delicates an immense pleasure. You would be surprised that a lot of men not only enjoy smelling and spunking into them, but also wearing them too. I bet Frederick has donned your underwear on many an occasion." Mildred smiled at Rose.

"Do you think so? Really?" She asked with surprise. "You may be right, Mildred. I am slightly concerned with him staying with me again." Rose sighed.

"Well, my dear friend. I am always here for you to speak with should you need advice. But, really, what Freddie and you both experienced is just a bit of harmless pleasure. Nobody got hurt or traumatised, did they?" Mildred sensibly counselled.

"Well, when you put it like that. Oh, thank you, Mildred. I feel so much better having that off my chest. Especially, with Freddie staying with me again. Thank you." Rose gratefully hugged her. Mildred patted her friend's back, comfortingly.

"Now, seeing as you shared an intimate disclosure with me. I would like to share one back. On the same topic, I may add." Mildred untwined herself from Rose, stood and went over to a cabinet in the corner of the living room. From a drawer she pulled out a photograph album and came back to sit beside her again.

She looked at Rose. "I won't say anything, I will just show you a couple of snaps, ok?" Rose nodded, her curiosity piquing. Mildred opened the album to the first photograph. Rose gasped. It was Henry, Mildred's quiet bespectacled husband, posing for the camera.

He was dressed in nothing but pink, rayon Directoire knickers and fully-fashioned, black seamed stockings. Her keen eye noticed a deep, eight-strapped suspender belt under his knickers too. But, what really caught her eye was his very prominent and stiff erection, jutting and poking out against the front of his knickers.

"Oh, Mildred!" Was all she could manage to utter. "Yes, I do so love my husband's big cock in a pair of delightful knickers." Mildred said with sensual admiration. "As, you can plainly see in the next one." She turned the next page of her explicit album. It was of Henry again, in a similar pose.

The difference being in this photograph, Mildred was squatting on the floor in front of him. Nylon-clad legs wide open, wearing nothing else aside from a suspender belt. One of her hands was between her legs, her fingers pulling aside her labia to expose her meticulously trimmed cunt. She was looking directly at the camera, her mouth gobbling the engorged, silken tip of her husband's knicker-covered cock.

Rose's head was swimming and her silky cunt moistening and thrumming in time with her accelerated heart rate, as she tried to take in this explicit imagery of her dear friend with her husband. Mildred suddenly snapped shut the album. Breaking Rose's erotic trance.

"We can talk more another time, Rose. About this or young Freddie. Maybe tomorrow evening? I may show you some more snaps too. If you're a good girl." Mildred offered, smiling.

"Yes, um, tomorrow." Rose babbled, slightly overwhelmed by her feelings. She looked at her watch. "Oh, goodness me! I need to dress. I'm due to pick Freddie up, from the station, in an hour."

She dressed quickly. Marie handed her a bag, containing the underwear she had arrived in and walked with her to the front door. They kissed each other on the cheek and hugged again. Before Rose finally got in her car and left with Mildred waving her goodbye.

As, she drove down the avenue, a sudden realisation dawned on Rose. Who had taken the photograph of Mildred and Henry together?

Mildred smiled to herself as she shut the front door. Humming gently, she went to the living room and the adjoining downstairs bathroom. Opening the door she was greeted by the sight of her husband, Henry, sat on the toilet.

He was dressed in black seamed nylons, legs spread wide and holding a pair of dishevelled, white silk knickers to his nose. Inhaling from the gusset deeply and heavily, as his other hand stroked his pulsating erection. His big, droopy testicles jiggling with each stroke of his hand.

"How does she smell, dear?" Mildred asked as she watched him masturbate to the aroma of Rose's worn knickers.

"Oh, my love. Exquisite!" He moaned with delight, his foreskin glistening with pre-cum.

"I take it you heard everything said, too?" She asked.

"Indeed I did, dear. Oh, Mildred! Her cunt smells so good!" He moaned, his hand racing up and down his veiny, engorged cock-shaft.

Mildred lifted her dress up and over her head. Slowly, inching her directoire knickers down before carefully stepping out of them.

"My turn with them now, Henry, my love." She motioned to him. He obediently handed her Rose's pilfered knickers, which Mildred took and held under her nose.

She stood over her husband, inhaling Rose's delectable musky mixture of perfume and cunt. Before, finally straddling Henry and easing herself down onto him with a small cry of unrestrained delight.