The Power of Clothing Pt. 11

We have seen how wearing stockings opened Sammi up so that she let her brother fuck her. Now we see how they persuade her to have sex with an older, married man.

*

Chapter 1

Since being fucked by Gareth, her half brother, at her twenty-first birthday party, Sammi had changed, a lot. Not physically, for she remained the good looking girl with long blonde hair, nice, but small tits, good legs and a great arse. It was emotionally, her attitudes and approach, particularly to sex, where the changes had come about, and remarkably quickly.

Gareth was a sod really. He played the field. He had loads of girls of all ages from eighteen to fifty, he wasn't fussy. He was even shagging his step-mother's best friend, Marcia and would have loved to fuck his step mother Amanda.

He earned a fortune using his wits as a dealer in the city. He ran a desk of ten traders and at the age of thirty-two had just been made a Managing Director. That meant bugger all, other than an extra thirty grand on his basic and a more aggressive bonus scheme, which should pretty much guarantee him near to, if not in excess of, a million pounds this year.

Sammi was completely different. Other than the peculiarity of having sex with her half brother, she had always been quite straight-laced, even a little prudish about sex. She hadn't lost her virginity until well into her eighteenth year, which in Essex where she lived was almost unknown for an attractive girl, especially a blonde. At university, she had two lovers and then Gareth at her twenty first, just over a year ago. The sex with Gareth had started, coincidentally, at her eighteenth birthday party. Not full sex, that had to wait three more years, but heavy petting to the point where he took her bra off, sucked her nipples and made her cum with his fingers.

After they did go all the way, in the early hours of the morning of the party in her bedroom, they met now and then and exchanged loads of emails and the occasional phone call. They couldn't date in the traditional way, for nobody could know about them. Even in the fairly easy-going social scene of Essex that would have been too much.

The full sex had been amazing, more for her than him actually. Gareth had drunk too much and had had a few lines of coke, but fortunately had remembered to take the Viagra that he, along with most of his hard-drinking, coke-snorting, pill-popping city mates, relied upon. It had done its job, for when Sammi came into her bedroom where he was waiting naked on her bed, he was able to present her with a full-blown hard on, of which he was justifiably proud.

Gareth had a cocky sort of charm that appealed to women; he could get away with a lot and pushed his chances as far as he could. That was how he was so successful pushing shares and other stuff that made him millions and it was how he was as successful at getting into women's knickers.

He had persuaded the normally reserved Sammi to strip down to just the black, seamed nylon stockings she was wearing. He had worked out she was wearing them when they had danced and he had felt the elastic running round their tops holding them up. That had immediately perked his interest. Shortly after, he had managed to get her alone and had pulled the material alongside one of the long slits up the side of the floor-length gown. The view of the lacy stocking-tops confirmed his earlier feel and probably made the use of the Viagra unnecessary, for he immediately got a big hard on.

After stripping down to them and being told by Gareth to leave them on for "I want to fuck you in them," Sammi had joined him on her bed; the door was firmly locked. It was a fairly straightforward fuck, but to Sammi it was not only magical but also life-changing as well, after all how many girls get to fuck their half brothers?

They laid in each others arms, her breast were squashed against his chest, the length of his sturdy, thick erection was squashed into her flat tummy. They kissed and licked each other as their hands roamed all over the other's body. Sammi's, inexperienced at roaming, concentrated on Gareth's chest, his, hugely experienced at visiting every part of the female body, focused on her tits and arse, his favourite places.

Sammi had no experience at all of anal sex. Neither of her three previous lovers had more than stroked her beautifully symmetrical cheeks; none had slipped their fingers into the tight crease, none had used their mouth on any part of it, none had touched her anus and none had been inside it with anything.

Gareth changed all that. Within no more than a five minutes of lying on the bed he made her cum. He was lying on his back. He pulled her on top of him so that they laid face to face, kissing. The feel of her stockings on his legs excited Gareth even more. He pulled her legs apart and slid a finger between them right onto her lips, which were already damp. Sammi jerked, it felt so good. He wiggled it around sending lovely sensations through her, but that wasn't the purpose of him fingering her. He slid that finger upwards, away from her pussy towards the crease in her bum. He slipped it into that and ran it along the crease, gradually slowing and focusing on just one place, her arsehole.

This was all so new to her. Sure, she had read about anal foreplay and penetration, but had not experienced anything and hadn't felt much curiosity about it, not as she had about sex with other woman. Now, though, as Gareth, softly at first, but then with increasing pressure, rubbed his lubricated finger right on her hole, her entire body exploded with sensations. The sensations seemed to increase proportionately, the harder he pressed and, she realised, the more he opened her up, so the greater the excitement and sexual pleasure. Sammi was amazed, for she had no idea that her bum could be such a pleasure giver. Suddenly, though, he had stopped. Without a word, he turned onto her back. He took hold of both of her ankles and lifted them up so that the front of her thighs were pressed against her boobs, he pulled them open and laid between them.

"God those fucking stockings are amazing," he muttered, running both his hands up and down Sammi's legs and pushing his fingers inside the tops a little. Sammi smiled and felt pleased that she had taken the Sloany salesgirl, Pippa's advice in Harvey Nicks.

Gareth pulled Sammi's legs open and laid between them. He was pushing the head of his cock against her lips, they opened and with a shrug of his hips he surged inside her. She was pleased, and relieved, that he went in so effortlessly, for he was bigger than any of her previous lovers. It felt great as he started to move up and down, in and out of her.

Sammi felt his hand sliding around her and down her back. It was on her bum. He pinched the firm, yet beautifully yielding flesh and then slid his finger between her slightly opened cheeks. It was again pressing on her hole, she realised.

It wasn't enquiring, Gareth was not asking permission, he was simply taking what he considered to be his right, Sammi's bum. With the selfish arrogance that had made him a top city trader, Gareth was thinking that for the moment, he would simply take that with his finger, but later it would be his with his tongue and then his cock. Yes, he had every intention of fucking his half-sister's arse, and soon.

Sammi had already started to cum. She climaxed easily. Having Gareth's lovely, big cock buried deep in her tight, young cunt had begun her orgasm. When she felt his finger sliding into her bum she went completely over the top. The rush of feelings, the combination of sensations and the new experience of her arse being invaded did her in completely. Less than five minutes after taking her panties off and joining Gareth on the bed, her mind and body both enjoyed a new meaning to the word orgasm.

She almost smiled as she thought. 'Thanks to the stockings.'

Chapter 2

They had to be extra careful. Of course they could meet as brother and sister might, but they couldn't go out together much, in fear of being seen by someone they knew. So mostly, Sammi would go to Gareth's flat in town where they would have sex and talk. It was these sessions that more than anything brought about the changes in Sammi's attitude towards sex over the next few months.

Gareth explained at some length his 'blokeish' approach and beliefs.

"It's just a fucking commodity ain it," he'd said one afternoon as they lay naked in his bed after sex.

He went on to destroy many of Sammi's ideals and beliefs about love and sex. Slowly, she understood that sex and love could be segmented.

"You can have fucking good sex without love, but you can't have love without sex," he explained adding "Unless you're a fucking monk or something, but then they're all fucking weird aren't they?"

"It's like anything enjoyable, it's for pleasure. It's only the fucking religious nutters in the past who said it was for the procreation of children, that's just a by product.

Gareth had loads of common sense, he was street wise and had a quick mind. Intellectual, though, he was not. That was more Sammi's department as the recent award of a 2:1 Honours Degree in English from a top ten university confirmed.

She took on board what he said. She read about sex a lot and attacked the intertnet trying desperately to broaden her understanding and appreciation of just what part it should play in a woman's life. All young people struggle, to one extent or the other, with sex. Some are scared, some confused, others go over the top. Some abstain, many don't, some become promiscuous. All wonder about it, many always do, but a few, the lucky few get it about right.

The more Sammi researched 'the philosophy of sex' as she thought of it, the more she became convinced that the Scandinavians seemed to be most at ease with both sex in general and their sexuality in particular. She found one piece of research that indicated that over 60% of Swedish females and over 40% of males had experienced some form of same sex relationship. She also found out that approximately three-quarters of both sexes had been with another partner whilst in their present relationship and that nearly 50% of both genders knew that their partner had been with someone else.

The long rambling discussions with Gareth, which were full of common sense, and the research, which added some form and analysis to Sammi's thinking, really did begin to change her opinions, attitudes and approach to sex.

Gone was her reserve when thinking about it, gone were her predictable opinions, gone were her high morals and gone were her stereotypical thinking on sex. She began to accept that there were other ways than monogamy, that sex was for fun, it was like a hobby and was something to be enjoyed. It was not an essential part of love, more a useful add on. She escaped from her social conditioning 'that good girls don't' and embraced the new woman philosophy of 'if I want him, I'll have him.'

And, of course, she bought many more pairs of stockings.

Chapter 3

The women had been asked to wear a white blouse and black or dark blue skirt or trousers and the men a white shirt and dark suit. Over those, they would wear the gown they would receive just before the graduation ceremony, and then, when presented with their degree, they would also receive their mortarboard, which would be placed on their head, 'like a regent being crowned,' Sammi giggled as she got ready for her graduation ceremony.

She was staying with a friend near the university. They had met in a local café, where Sammi would often sit and study, Claire worked close by. They had got to know each other quite well and Sammi had visited Claire's home and met her husband Greg many times in the two years or so they had been friends. Since leaving uni, Claire and Greg had visited Sammi and stayed at her mum and dad's house in Essex. They had become good, close friends. Both had good degrees, but were not at all money orientated. Greg worked for a research company which was a non-profit making organisation involved in green and other environmental issues and Claire ran an Oxfam charity shop, next to the café where she and Sammi had met. She was in her late twenties, Greg was a few years older in his mid thirties.

Kevin, Amanda, Sammi's brother and Marcia and Stephen were driving down for the ceremony, the champagne reception and then dinner after, they were not staying the night, whereas Sammi was. Sammi had also invited Claire and Greg to the awards ceremony and the dinner after, which Kevin had arranged in a private room at the top hotel in town, typical, flash sod, Sammi thought.

What prompted her to buy them, let alone be wearing them as she stood in front of the mirror in Claire and Greg's lovely little cottage, naked apart from them and the little black thong, she had no idea.

The whole thing about stockings interested and excited her, even undoing them from the cellophane packaging. She loved looking at them, feeling their fine, smoothness on her fingers, seeing the seams, the fishnet or the lacy tops. The sensation as, naked, she rolled them one by one along her feet, over her trim ankles, up her calfs, over her knees and onto her thighs made her tingle. Pulling them tight so that the elasticated top was almost touching her pussy lips gave her a massive thrill.

'God they are so fucking sexy,' she said to herself, slipping into the black, thin wool, pencil skirt, the white lace, diaphanous bra, which was cut very acutely across her boobs almost showing the edge of her areola, and the crisp, white cotton, button up blouse. 'I look like a fucking lawyer' she thought as she slipped the black gown onto her shoulders, 'It's like the girl wears in that ad for an insurance company' she thought, actually feeling rather horny because of the robe or cloak or gown or whatever the fuck it is.

"Wow," Greg said as she walked down the stairs, which led directly into the lounge cum dining room in the small cottage.

"You look fantastic," Claire said.

She did feel good.

The graduation went well, the following reception was fine, but the dinner with her relatives and their friends was boring. Her father, Kevin, was his normal flash self, playing up both to Marcia, who Sammi was convinced he was shagging, and to Claire who was attractive and lovely. Oddly, Sammi felt, Claire responded to Kevin's attention by playing up to her father. She didn't like that, but then she didn't like her father very much either!

At the reception, Sammi had come face to face with David Derkin. In his early forties, he had been her tutor and they had mildly flirted, but nothing more had happened.

"So, Sammi, pleased with the two one."

"Yes thank you David," she replied looking straight into his eyes.

They chatted for a few more minutes.

"So back to Essex this evening?" He asked nodding at her parents.

"No, I'm staying with my friend Claire, you met her remember?" Sammi asked pointing to her friend.

"Oh yes. For how long?"

"Tonight and tomorrow night, probably," she replied.

He flashed the broad smile that had always attracted her.

"Well as you are no longer a student, would you consider lunch tomorrow?"

Sammi was torn, momentarily.

"Mrs Derkin, not here then?" She asked, rather mischievously?

"No Sammi, she isn't."

Up until a short while ago, Sammi would have immediately refused. Her new-found sexual freedom and the spirit of sexual adventure she gained from that, however, stopped he.

"Yes that would be lovely."

They concluded the arrangements and just before they parted, he leaned close to her and whispered.

"And please, wear the stockings for lunch tomorrow Sammi," and was gone into the crowd

Chapter 4

It all just seemed so perfectly normal. So usual and typical, so very grown up, something that people like Sammi and David did all the time. 'Perhaps he does?' She wondered as she sat on the sofa in the lounge of his flat just wearing her panties and stockings.

Lunch had been at a bistro in the trendy part of town. They had drunk almost two bottles of wine. He had held her hand as they had walked alongside the river to a pub. He had a pint of bitter, Sammi a vodka.

"What was all that about wearing stockings?" she eventually plucked up the courage to ask.

"I like stockings, well seeing girls in them I mean."

"How did you know I was wearing them and not tights."

"Stockings nearly always crease round the ankles."

"Oh, so men can usually tell by that can they?"

He smiled.

"And by careful observation of the girl's thighs, if she's wearing a tight skirt, you can see the outline of her stocking tops."

"I see, not when she's wearing jeans though," Sammi said, looking down at her jeans covered legs.

"No that then calls for other means."

"Such as?" Sammi asked, quite intrigued by the discussion.

"This," David said, placing his hand on her leg about midway up her thigh.

The feel of his hand on her leg made her jump. It felt nice.

"And then this," he went on, running his hand upwards until it rested right on the band of elastic holding up her stockings.

"Thank you," he smiled.

"What for?"

"Wearing them."

"Oh I see, you're welcome," Sammi replied, not really being quite sure why she had worn them.

"Well I am pleased you did, shall we go?"

Sammi was impressed and excited at the way that David was taking control. She liked that, it was one of the reasons why she preferred older men. He didn't say where they were going, he didn't ask her opinion and he didn't ask for her permission to take her to his flat. He simply assumed she was up for it, as indeed, somewhat to her surprise, she was and, thus, willingly, and in some ways eagerly, she went with him to his home.

Once inside, he took her in his arms and kissed her, long and deep; he really was very good she thought. He caressed her, taking time to ensure she had gained sufficient pleasure from one place, before moving on. First her back, then her bum, then her breasts, outside her clothing, then inside. He slid his fingers suggestively and enquiringly inside the waist of her jeans, finding the elastic of her thong and pulling it. That pulled the thong tighter between the cheeks of her bottom and more firmly onto her lips and where her clit was snuggled inside the folds around her pussy.

They sat on the sofa, his hands gently persuading her white, tee shirt and blue, vee-kneck, lambswool, sweater over her head. They kissed more and, almost as expertly as a woman, he unclipped her bra.

"Stand up for me Sammi," he whispered.

She did, facing him. He remained sitting. He reached up and without asking, undid her belt. He looked into her eyes as he undid the button and then slid the zip down on her flies. He saw the pretty lace thong and then, as he rolled her jeans down her legs, the dark hold up stockings. Still with her jeans around her thighs, David ran his hand up and down the smooth nylon.

"God they are lovely, Sam," he moaned, suddenly running his hand up between her thighs, right onto the gusset of her thong and pressing firmly. That felt good and she grunted. Sammi flipped her shoes off as he pushed the jeans down and off her feet. She looked fantastic.

He pulled her back down onto the settee kissing her, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples. He ran his hand up and down her back and then along her nylon encased legs. She parted them a little to give him the access she assumed he would want to her pussy, but then the phone rang.

"Shit, sorry Sam, I'll have to take it."

"Oh hi darling," he said brightly.

Sammi found it quite maddening. To be sat there naked, apart from just her thong and stockings as the man who had undressed chatted away to his wife in London, was not only frustrating, but also rather demeaning. True, David kept raising his eyebrows, mouthing 'sorry' and putting his hands out as if to say 'what can I do' and of course she realised, he hadn't known his wife would phone, but nevertheless he could have not answered it or made some excuse.