Stocking Tops Pt. 04

I posted three parts of the adventures of Englishman Lee Peach some time ago on this site and this late addition follows requests for more about this weirdo. He is about to wean off licking mommy's stocking tops and become a 24-hour sensation in Austalia.

The story and characters are 100% fiction, there is no need to point out minor errors and the grammar is copyright to the author.

Enjoy. EG

CHAPTER 1

Lee Peach sat behind his Silk (Queen's counsel) Penny Welsh, as she stood ready to appeal to the judge for leniency for her client. Lee knew he was doomed; career over with Peach Textile Group because his father would disown him once again.

Old farts like his father regarded being arrested for fucking the woman (believed by the media to be the fifth daughter of the Speaker of the House for the Commons), on a lawn beside the Palace of Westminster housing Parliament, was a hanging offence.

Penny almost leaped out of her robe when her client ran his hand under the black gown to feel for stockings. Lee pulled his hand away in disgust, finding panty hose.

"You fucking imbecile," whispered Penny to Lee as the judge prepared to make his decision. "Have you no respect for me?"

"No, but wear stockings and the answer would be yes."

It was a minor offence as the deed had occurred at 2 am when most tourists were at night clubs and the good people of London would have been in their beds when the accused and Madam X was did their dastardly deed in a near-hallowed place.

"Ten days," ruled the judge. Lee was carted off to prison with a criminal record against his name.

The next day he was released from prison on appeal.

An urgent hearing was granted and Penny successfully argued that Judge Hope had failed to take into account submissions where the so-called offence had taken place was of minor significance because land in question was common ground and a common activity among Londoners after dark for centuries had been sexual intercourse. She produced documents proving the land had been invested in the Crown as a place for couples to go courting and that right had never been rescinded.

The sentence was quashed and the defendant rebuked for wasting police and the court's time. The Peach name had been cleared but the damage was done. A courier delivered Lee his termination notice from the employment of the Peach Textiles Group. He went back to the apartment he shared with Paula but there was no sign of her. Lee had expected that because she'd not shown up at the court. He just collected his childhood Teddy and favorite shotgun and shifted to a hotel, leaving the lease guarantors, Peach Textiles Group, to sort out the expenses of early termination of lease and paying for the disposal of everything left behind by Lee.

Lee called Victoria, his mom, who cried and said his father had refused to allow her to associate with her son. She appealed to Lee to stay away because his father had adopted a black scowl and kept a loaded shotgun at his side. "Just disappear."

"Okay mummy er mum. Do I get one last lick of your stockings before I go?"

"No, but darling, don't despair. When the cloud of black shame settles, I'll come to you and will cum all over your lovely head while you lick above my stocking tops."

Hearing such cheerful words buoyed Lee immensely and his confidence was in ascendancy.

Lee heard a babble below and looking out the window saw the media was arriving, setting up TV cameras and the photographers were on stepladders but that was curious because they were trespassing on open ground, as they'd come in beyond the brick wall. He shrugged, looked out the back windows and saw crafty journalists were in position there. Grinning, Lee went up on to the roof and stepped over on to the adjoining apartment block and walked out its street entrance whistling.

Four days later Lee was in Sydney, pleased to be a free man living in a country founded as a British penal colony. He supposed that's why he felt really free and at home. He'd just visited Myer Department Store and felt like rubbing his erection in glee when he saw the female store assistants wore stockings and the stocking department was fully stocked including a range exclusive to Peach Textiles Group.

A pretty assistant said to him sweetly, "This is not the men's department sir."

He smiled and asked, "May I feel your stocking tops?"

She giggled and said that ought to earn her the store prize for relating the most unusual request of the day. She declined the request and said she was only just back from her honeymoon.

"So?"

"Shove off, asshole."

Lee grinned and walked off, having confirmed something: the woman's answer indicated Australia had a crossover with Americanspeak.

An hour later he answered a knock on his hotel door. A superbly attractive young woman asked, "Mr Lee Peach, formerly of Peach Textiles in London?"

"Yes."

"What is your mother's name sir?"

"Victoria. But what is this, I haven't purchased a Lotto ticket?"

The woman just smiled, took his arm and pulled her skirt high, showing her stocking tops, and a guy Lee hadn't noticed until then took several exposures on automatic on a big camera and the two intruders then raced for the elevators.

"What the fuck?" Lee mumbled. He grabbed his jacket left for lunch.

At dinner that evening, missing his mom and wondering whether to go to California to fuck his aunt and her friends, he watched the maitre d' arrive and ask politely if a fellow guest might share his table because the restaurant was full.

"Yes, wheel him in," Lee mumbled, hoping it wouldn't be a famous Australian footballer with nothing between the ears. Perhaps it might be Joan Collins or a prostitute?

Close.

Lee jumped to his feet and the gorgeous thing in black said, "Well, this is my lucky night."

Speculative females often fed Lee that line, but never when opening their mouth for the first time. He couldn't really say did she fuck because the maitre d' was hovering. So he said creatively "Good morning" and she giggled and the maitre d' seemed to be peering around for somewhere else to place the woman.

"It's evening. You are running on European time aren't you?"

Chewing a piece of bun Lee mumbled, "That is an intelligent remark for an Australian."

She laughed and reached across to pat his hand. "Come on, ignore the jet lag and brighten up. Say something intelligent."

"Show me your stocking tops."

The woman, in her early forties, turned pink and looked around furtively before leaning and whispering, "God, I didn't mean that intelligent. You have no idea of how many woman spend huge sums on stockings and underwear and wring their hands in despair because no one is interested in how sexy they look."

"Somewhere between 35 and 40% of all married women to the age of fifty and all unmarried females from eighteen to forty when by that age they give up and submit to same-sex relationships."

The woman boggled.

"The media only talk and write about me licking my mother's stockings but they are unaware I'm a world authority on stockings, such is my passion."

"Passion – a male with passion? God they are so rare these days except at horse racing and football and boxing matches."

They settled into a wonderful conversation. Belinda was the wife of a very successful funeral director at Dubbo, wherever that was. Probably it was behind this black stump thing Australian's talk about with authority. Lee wasn't of a mind to find out the difference between a successful and an unsuccessful funeral director, at least not while eating.

"I wear stockings," Belinda confided.

"Like to show them to me?"

"Later," she blushed, throwing her pert and anxious to please small breasts forward.

"Love the activity of your tits."

"Oh God, let's rip through our mains and go upstairs. You have me primed already."

Belinda proved to be an acceptable substitute for Lee's mother; she came over his head copiously as he licked between the stocking tops and her bared pussy. In Lee's uninformed opinion, she fucked better than expected for a funeral director's wife and after a rest invited him to take her ass as she was a virgin there. Freshening in the shower Belinda had found a tube of hair conditioner made of natural ingredients and that gave her the idea of an alternative use.

The gel worked fined but she was so damn tight. They pushed and rested and sweated, huffing and puffing for twenty minutes before Lee had to admit defeat.

"But I want you to shoot up my butt?"

"Then play with my balls and talk dirty while I push my fingers up your pussy and massage myself against your pussy wall."

They heated up and with Belinda wriggling a lot. Suddenly he blaaaaaaghed like a calf that had lost its mother and she wailed in a huge release. It was only then Lee realized the sharp pain he'd felt just prior to shooting up her chute was her dry ring finger being pushed up his rectum, rings included.

They were at it again in the morning before and after having breakfast in bed.

They parted sadly because Belinda expected her husband to join her later in the morning – he'd sent her ahead to have a day's shopping by her and to arrange suitable entertainment.

"Some entertainment I've had," she giggled, applying strawberry jam from the breakfast tray to her nipples and to Lee's rather tired dick.

Later in the morning Lee stopped in shock when he spotted the billboard at a newspaper stand: 'Stockings Guy Hits Sydney'. The guy who sold the newspaper didn't recognize him; Lee deduced he probably couldn't read. He slunk back to his suite to read the exposé but it wasn't much – just the photo of the babe with gorgeous legs and Lee and a few words.

The story whipped through his background saying he was the son of multi-millionaire Albert Peach married to the sensational Victoria, a former model. Lee had been engaged in the design and manufacture of stockings in England and France but preferred to have the legs in them and the lights down low when he made his assessment. He claimed that was what he was doing recently on grass next to Britain's Parliament with the Speaker of the House's fifth youngest daughter as she had persuaded him to assess her stockings but the little tramp was seducing him when the police arrived. He received a month's jail for his delightful crime but big money got that reduced to a mere rebuke from the court. His father fired him and now Lee Peach was holed up in Sydney, kicking wounds and his desire to see stockings had shriveled.

Lee thought not too bad, at least it didn't make him out to be villainous. He answered the door. It was the woman who'd compromised him the previous morning. He glanced up and down the corridor but it was empty. He grabbed her by the belt and pulled her into the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Hello bitch."

She looked scared. "Am I to be taken forcibly?"

"I wouldn't touch you with a stick used to collect dogs' poo."

She burst into tears and handed him the piece of paper she had been holding. It was a check for $600.

"What's this?"

"I'm ashamed what I did this morning setting you up. I'm with a model agency and usually the assignments are okay but this one turned out to stink. Take my check and I'll pay the agency's cut," she sobbed. "If you want more dollars in compensation I'll pay you a reasonable amount."

"Show me your stocking tops."

She did that. Hand under his chin Lee studied them, waiting for her comment.

"What do you think?"

"Fucking fantastic, now take your check and get out of here."

"No wait, you don't understand. There will be a media hunt on for you – it's only a matter of time before you are hunted down and pulverized. Some of those reporters will be butch women and some married men who don't like other men who like stockings if their wives wear stockings."

Lee turned white. "Oh God."

"Please come with me. I'll take you somewhere safe."

"To Ayer's Rock – er, Uluru?"

She laughed, wiping her eyes dry, and told him to pack and wear a hat and sunglasses.

"I'm Claire Cobb," she said, as the cab pulled away from the hotel.

"Can we kiss?"

"I suppose so."

They kissed and she pulled Lee's hand on to her breast and he only had time to dig in his fingers before she pulled away and took out her makeup mirror. He sat back on his side of the cab.

"I'm engaged," she said.

"What, to a mirror?"

"To a guy, a much older guy."

"So? They doesn't mean you can't have sex with me."

Claire grinned: "What happened to the dog poo stick?"

The cab served violently and the driver muttered he was sorry.

They entered the terminal at a small airport and were immediately called. "Miss Cobb, your flight on Cobb Airlines with your guest is ready to depart."

"You have your own airline?" Lee asked incredulously.

"It's dad's idea of a joke. He has registered his Cessna Bravo as Cobb Airlines. He flies in guests when we have grand dinners or a midday barbecue or mum decides to have the girls over for a soiree."

"Australian's know the word soiree?"

"Come on you tease," Claire laughed.

They entered the black jet aircraft carrying the name Cobb Airlines in white. "Sit here, I'm taking over from dad. He'll come down and join you and when we are airborne will pour your something."

"Airborne?" Lee said nervously and she grinned and said they were in an airplane.

The father Royce looked at Lee speculatively and said, "Fair go mate, she's a better pilot than I am. A beer or name your poison."

"Juice thanks."

"Good, same as me when I'm flying. Claire could easily have a period and I'd have to take over."

Lee gathered that was a joke.

"Tell me about yourself son."

"I suppose your read today's 'Daily Telegraph' at the airport?

Royce nodded. "Sounds like you are a bit of a hard case. The inference I get is you like the feel of nylon on your cheek when you lick?"

Lee's head dropped and he said, "It's a bit of an addiction sir."

"Good on you mate. I get harder myself by rubbing my dick over stockings."

Receiving a wink above the grin, Lee knew a bond had been established.

They landed on the sealed runway at the local airport where Royce's wife Jill was waiting, standing beside a black Mercedes limo. The sheep farm of 145,000 acres was only fifteen minutes away.

A guy called Alf came over on a solid wheeled tractor and hitched up ready to tow the aircraft into a large hanger.

"Several blokes around here run aircraft too expensive to land on unsealed runways where a flying stone could cause thousands of dollars of damage," Royce said. "Don't be nervous about meeting Jill. Claire would have called through to tell her about you. Jill's a bit snooty but likes characters with a bit of fire. She's probably have a go at you but be careful, I could be of the mind to toss you out of the airplane at 30,000 feet."

Lee grinned, Royce grinned and said, "You're all right mate. Here comes my girl."

They walk toward Jill who ran to greet them.

"Mom, this is the guy I did the dirty on in the city."

Lee was appalled where Claire's mother said, "Get him pregnant did you luv?" He was the only one not to laugh.

Jill kissed Lee and whispered, "Feel down my left thigh for proof I'm wearing stockings you sexy young man. None of the family will see the grope – go on."

Lee took the chance, felt a suspender (garter) belt strap and pulled and allowed the elastic to snap back, making Jill jump.

"I'm going to love having you around," she whispered, pushing him away.

The home was huge, airy and spacious, looking as if it had been built by the family themselves with numerous additions over the years. Lee later found that was the case. But inside it was elegantly furnished, with teak floors and French doors in every room.

Claire was about twenty-five and her sister, a couple of years younger, came out with a black Labrador to welcome them. The dog came straight over and peed on unsuspecting Lee's shoe.

He kicked the mutt away and heard the combined air intake of the entire family. Tension was in the air but eased when Claire came up with the incredible lie, "As a new-born Lee was snatched from the rug beside his nanny by a black dog and was not found for six hours, luckily unharmed."

Jill and younger daughter Kerri wailed how dreadful but their sympathy was short-lived when Royce said, "I'll give you a gun and you can take Meg out and shoot her Lee."

Jill, Kerri and Claire formed into a distressed looking trio but broke into beautiful smiles when Lee said, "No, the dog lives."

Everyone was drinking beer or Australian sparkling wine when Kerri switched on the TV for the news at 6:00. Everyone ignored it until Jill shouted, "Oh God, look!"

The reporter was holding up the front page of the Daily Telegraph and said, "The entire Sydney media is on the hunt for London playboy know as 'Mr Stockings' shown here with the model with great legs, Claire Cobb. Mr Stockings flew in yesterday to escape the heat in London after being arresting for bonking a daughter of a top parliamentarian outside the House of Parliament on the bank of the Thames. London is packed with men and women with a fetish but none is more addicted than the infamous Lee Stocking Tops Peach, son of multi-millionaire Albert Peach, married to this gorgeous lady. Victoria Peach."

"Oh God, is that you mother?" Jill asked in awe, but was told by the family to hush.

"Lee Peach is so besotted with stocking tops that he won't date a woman who doesn't wear them and doesn't even like being within ten feet of any woman he suspects is wearing panty hose, known in Australia as tights. He has dated many of Britain's most eligible women but understandably they find his fetish very entertaining at first and then it becomes very tedious because they are expected to sleep in their stockings."

"Here we have a published photograph of Lee's mother at a concert at Albert Hall recently, with her evening dress above her knees with Lee resting his head on her stockings while listening to a famous Dutch pianist. Before coming on air I surveyed twenty women in our studio and asked them if they thought Lee's fetish was objectionable. Only three did and they admitted they never wore stockings. I showed the remaining seventeen this photo in the Daily Telegraph of model Claire Cobb used by the newspaper to do a sting on the newly arrived Lee and asked would they date Lee. Here we show the seventeen ladies. Lee, if you are holed up and watching this, I can confirm here are seventeen ladies willing to date you but nine insist on their partners being included on the date. So there we have it: Lee Cobb is in town so lock up your daughters mothers – or at the very least confiscate their stockings."

"Get out of our house, your pervert," Kerri screamed.

"Shut up Kerri," Jill snapped. "Lee, your mother is absolutely gorgeous."

"Yeah, she's okay. Kerri, please understand. I admit having a fetish but it's a pretty tame one compared with many others. I worked for a business women's apparel division in my father's group of companies and since being there have been personally credited for lifting company sales of stockings by 780%. Stockings are currently making a huge comeback in Britain and France and I have appeared on TV shows in England, Ireland, France, Belgium, Germany, Italy, Canada and the US to explain my interest in stockings."

"So you are not a sex slave to women in stockings?"

"No, of course not. Kinky women scare me."

"Then I'm sorry I misjudged you."

"Lift your dress up and show me your stockings Kerri."

"I-I don't wear them."

"Oh Kerri."

"Me, me!" yelled her mother.

"Okay, lift up Jill."

"Wow, not bad. On a par with my mother's I would think."

"Claire."

Lee licked his lips. "God Claire, you should be in New York and perhaps Paris as a photographer's model for stockings."