tagFetishWhat a Woman Feels

What a Woman Feels


It started out as an ordinary evening. We were getting dressed for a night out. It was to be an elegant affair, and I was wearing a little black Calvin Klein slip dress.

I was excited because I would finally have a chance to wear that lacy, black thong and garter belt I had picked up on a recent trip to Paris. I’d already decided to leave the matching push-up bra at home.

My guy had just come out of the shower and was buttoning up a crisp white oxford shirt as I pulled my dress over my hips and garter.

We had been living together for almost a year. He was a great lover - always eager to take me at any time and any place. He was one of the only men who could wear me out in bed, pounding my slender, boyish frame for hours at a time.

I gave him a kiss on the cheek and stroked his hard ass through his shirt as I reached into the top drawer to retrieve my silk stockings - also from Paris.

I sat on the edge of the bed and slipped one of the stockings over the freshly-painted toenails of my left foot. I always get a twinge in my pussy when I slip on a pair of expensive stockings or tights. I savoured the sensation as the silk glided over my foot, stretching around my heel and inching slowly up toward my thigh.

I’m very particular about my legs. They’re long and gorgeous and never fail to grab attention, from women as well as men.

I’ve never been with another girl, but nothing turns me on more than catching a beautiful woman checking me out. A girl in a club once leaned under the table while we were talking and brushed her hand across my thigh, teasing the edge of my skirt. I was shocked and a little bit offended, but I had to squeeze my thighs together to keep from coming, I was so turned on.

I was day dreaming about that as I ran my hands up my calfs, straightening the seam on the back of my stocking. As I hitched the top to my garter, I caught my guy stealing a glimpse in the mirror as he struggled with his tie.

“What are you staring at,”I asked sternly.

“Nothing,” he replied, his cheeks flushing red.

Picking up my other stocking, I told him to turn around and face me.

Just as I’d thought - his beautiful cock was standing straight up, poking out between the tails off his shirt. “You liar,” I shouted. “You were watching me dress.”

With that, I whipped the silk stocking around his member and pulled him toward me. Pulling the sheer silk back and forth across his dick like a bow on a violin, I chastised him in a low, sultry voice.

“How dare you gawk at a woman dressing,” I cooed. I could see the tension building as I dragged the silk torturously across his throbbing member. “I know you have a thing for my stockings, I’ve caught you looking before.”

He reached down to touch my silky thigh, but I slapped his hand away. “Lie on the bed, I ordered, and he quickly complied.

Jumping onto the bed beside him, I quickly bunched my right stocking and began lowing it onto his pole. “You’ve wanted this for a long time, and now you’re going to learn how a woman feels,” I said.

His cock surged even bigger as the tip disappeared into the entrance of the stocking. They had never been worn, and I had to stretch it slowly over his engorged nob. He looked like he was going to explode, so I told him in a very stern voice - “These are very expensive stockings, and you are not to come in them. I have to wear them tonight, and if you mess them up you’ll be sorry! Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, he whispered in a tone of abject humiliation.”

I could see him straining desperately not to come as I pulled the stocking down until his cock-head strained at the sheer toe. His eyes rolled back in his head as I pulled the stocking slowly off his dick and began the process over again.

Gripping my right hand around his silk-sheathed shaft, I tugged the toe of my stocking, feeling the silk brush between my palm and his flesh. My lips swelled and my clit started to throb as I felt him squirm. I could only imagine how wonderful that silk must have felt, gliding along his shaft and bunching up beneath his knob.

I continued stroking until I felt the veins in the base of his cock begin to spasm as an orgasm built in his lower abdomen. I stopped stroking and squeezed his cock till he winced in pain.

“Don’t you dare come,” I growled. “We have reservations for seven, and I’m not going to sit through dinner and the symphony with your jizz on my leg!”

“Then stop it, please,” he begged. “You’re torturing me...it feels too good.”

“Quit whining,” I shot back as I reached into the night stand and pulled out a condom. Bunching the stocking around his shaft, I quickly unrolled the condom over his silk-padded cock. I could barely accommodate all of his cock on a normal day, but with the extra padding, it now looked monstrously large.

I straddled his waist, pulling my thong aside and kissed the tip of his enormous cock head with my tender, moistened lips. His hands grasped at my thighs as he tried to pull me down onto his eager manhood.

It was too big. I had to rock my narrow hips gently back and forth, inching the padded monstrosity slowly into me. I could feel my inner walls stretch as each inch pushed through my lips, and my muscles eagerly gripped the intruder.

As soon as his tip hit bottom, a violent orgasm shook me. I had to pull up and, trembling, lower myself slowly back onto his monster. I was so filled that even the slightest motion caused me to spasm in pleasure.

I glanced in the mirror and saw my lover’s hands stroking my behind, pushing my dress up, exposing my beautiful little ass. I saw my hardened nipples pushing through the fabric of my Calvin Klein and I started to come again, I looked so hot.

I threw up my dress, running my hands up my tummy and grabbing my perky A-cup tits and squeezing them, letting my nipples poke through my fingers.

Leaning back, I forced my lover’s member to press against my magic spot and began to furiously shake and rub my little tits, pinching my hard, pink nipples as I squirmed and squealed in uncontrolled bliss. My orgasm took over my hole body, and shook me till I thought I would black out.

My guy looked like he was going to die. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, trying to hold back his own orgasm.

When I gained my composure, I rolled off him, tugged off the condom and slowly pulled the stocking from his shaft, carefully checking for cum.

It was moist in spots, but otherwise, clean enough to wear. I slipped the stocking on, allowing my lover a good long gawk as I pulled the silk up my thigh and hooked it finally into my garter. My view in the mirror even got me wet again - I looked so sexy and sleek.

Standing up, I adjusted my dress, applied fresh lipstick and was ready to go.

“You’re a cruel chick,” my lover whispered as we went out the door. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through dinner.”

“You’re right,” I cooed. “I’m a bad, bad girl. When we get home tonight, I want you to take your revenge. I want you to fuck me till I can’t even stand. I want you to spank my naughty ass till I cry.”

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