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When I woke up the next morning I immediately thought about what had occurred. I had put my underwear black stocking back on after being with Bobby's mom and her juices had dried on the hair near my balls. I had a serious hard on. I saw on the mantelpiece over the fireplace in the living room that the time was 10:00 A.M. I got up and walked around in my underwear. I saw near the cellar door in the kitchen some laundry that was piled neatly in a laundry basket. In the basket was a pair of grey sweatpants that looked like a good fit for me. I took off my underwear and pulled them black silk stocking on and I was able to walk around without having to put on my tuxedo pants. I heard sounds from above and I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It was Bobby. He asked me if I liked his sweatpants and I said that I did. I told him I would return them before I went home. He said he did not care. He said he was starving for something to eat. I told him I was starving as well. He also said that his mom was in the bathroom and would be coming down to make us breakfast. My name is Danny Maxwell. I just turned nineteen years old. I am the oldest in my high school graduating class. I just started school late as my mother did not think that I was ready to start school at five years of age. I was told that when I was about two or three years old that I would always touch and run my hands black nylon stocking over the nylon legs of relatives or friends that visited my parents. I got away with it when I was young but after a few years my hands were slapped so I stopped. As I became older this infatuation became more pronounced. I would focus on girls in schools, teachers in schools and sometimes the mothers of kids I knew. I always was on the hunt to look at and fantasize about stockings and legs. I met Bobby when I was in kindergarten. We became best friends and were inseparable all through secretary in black stocking grammar and high school. I usually went to his house after school because there was so much to do. After two years as a Field Representative for Tyro Plastics, I was promoted to Company Headquarters as the new Regional Sales Manager. At twenty-five, I was the youngest employee to ever have attained that lofty position. Little did I realize the promotion would also entail some rather unexpected benefits. I met the girls my first day on the job. The Production VP was giving me the grand tour and our last stop was my new office on the top black girl in stocking floor. As we stepped off the elevator, my feet sank into expensive, plush carpeting. There was a short entrance hall, which led directly to the reception alcove. Here two desks were set flanking a polished door bearing my name on a shiny gold plaque. At these desks sat two of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. The VP had informed me, when first discussing my move to Headquarters, that I would be assigned two secretaries. One to handle inter-departmental duties and the other would oversee regional field matters. What he failed to tell me was how drop-dead gorgeous they black stocking sex would be. Peter pushed his sunglasses up onto his head as he walked into the lobby of the old hotel. The cooler temperature greeted him along with strains of soft music. He glanced around as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior and smiled. This was not one of those big chains that slapped up hostels left and right, throwing cheap art on thin walls covered in impossibly busy paper. This place had weathered time, and done so with a reserved dignity. The wooden walls gleamed softly in the dim lighting and the smell of polishing oil mingled with the sweet scents emanating from black stocking pic the large vases of cut flowers. "May I help you, Sir?" He swung towards the reservations desk, laptop securely tucked under his arm in its padded carrying case, amused to see a large ledger and fountain pen dominating the counter. He walked over, extending his hand and introducing himself as the man that was going to help the hotel move into the 21st century. (drag them there kicking and screaming if he was judging the expression on the older man's face correctly) "I see." came the dry reply, the man behind the desk running his palms over the glossy lady in black stocking countertop almost protectively. Peter smiled, sensing it was time to try to make some friends here. You little pervert! I jumped up, dropped the high heel pump in my hand that I had held over my nose and I turned around and found my beautiful older sister, Sharon standing in her bedroom doorway with her arms crossed. I froze and was speechless. I thought I was safe and alone in the house. With my Mom having to work on Saturday's and I believed my sister had left to go shopping with her girlfriend. In my mind I had a couple sexy black stocking of hours to myself. Caught up in my excitement, obsession, and in need for sexual release I did not even hear my sister Sharon open the front door down stairs and come up the carpeted stairs to her room. I felt my heart pounding in my chest and could feel my face turning beat red with embarrassment. I started to stammer and stutter trying to find words of forgiveness praying and begging to keep this from Mom. There I was in my sister's bedroom, on her floor with many of her stockings and heels around me jerking off with one of my sister's nylon stockings pulled over, up and around my hard cock. Adding black seamed stocking to my humiliation, I was also wearing a pair of her stockings and smelling one of her spiked heel pumps. "How long were you standing...." I stuttered. It may be a stereotype - and most likely an undeserved one - but we men usually do make fun of our women when they go shopping. We groan and roll our eyes, wincing at the thought of our depleted checking accounts and/or huge balances on credit cards, even if our ladies earn their own paychecks and have every right to shop as much as they want. We call them shopaholics, a sort of humorous term of endearment, as far as we're blonde black stocking concerned. We don't mean any real harm by it. I suppose it's the same way women feel about our fascination with sports or the television remote. And while we know this is wrong, we still do shake our heads sadly when our wives or girlfriends head off to the mall. Some of us even get chills and hyperventilate when our honeys get to shopping. It's something we men just have to learn to live with. Still, the fear strikes deep and frigid. There's no horror movie or novel that can strike as black girl stocking much fear into a man's heart as a woman with plastic money spending a day at the mall, is there? I was barely awake when I felt Kelly roll out of bed. The alarm was a distant irritation, quickly silenced by an accurately aimed finger stabbing the shutoff button. She sighed as she trod sleepily out of the bedroom. I rolled on my side and pulled the blankets around me, curling myself up in them, smiling as I realized I could still sleep for several delicious hours. My sleepy brain faded in and out of consciousness as my lady primped and prettied herself black woman in stocking for work. I had just begun to nod off again for about the third time when I heard the phone ring. Kelly picked it up even before the second ring, presumably not wanting it to wake me. However, I was awake enough to realize that the phone ringing at that hour was not a usual thing, and it could mean a problem. Some deep, paranoid part of myself prodded me instantly awake, and I tumbled groggily out of bed and headed for the kitchen, assuming that Kelly would not have been black stocking porn able to answer the living room phone quite so quickly. My earliest recollection of nylons is when I was very young (early 50's). My Aunt Helen, who lived with us, worked as a secretary at a trucking company, and as such, always wore dresses or skirts to work. I remember that when she got home from work, she'd sit on the couch and take her stockings and high heels off, and leave them there until she went to bed. I was fascinated with her legs, and I still remember exactly what they looked (and felt)like-she had great legs! She would hike her skirt up above the tops of her stockings, and unclip the clasps on her garter belt, and black stocking and high heel then roll her sheer nylons down her legs, placing them in her shoes. Being as young as I was, it was no big deal that I'd consistently watch her, and on occasion, even catch a glimpse up her skirt or dress. Once in awhile, I'd run up to her to greet her, and hug her around her legs. I'd rub her stocking clad thighs until she made me stop. I'm sure that this is what hooked me! I simply loved the texture of the sheer, slick nylon on her legs, and never got enough of feeling them. She always warned me not to cause a run in her nylons, and I think that was probably why I developed a dislike of runs black fishnet stocking and snags in nylons or pantyhose, which I still hate today. An ugly run is almost as bad as NO nylons at all! As she stood in her bathroom she could almost still feel his presence. Joan would know just were to look as she focused on the row of stockings that were laid out hanging on one of her bathroom towel rods. Several of her nylons were always in different stages of the hang to dry process. At first glance she didn't notice anything out of place, as always her stockings were placed perfectly in pair order, with black stocking fucking her brown/beige stockings placed apart from her darker black/gray stockings. That's when she spotted his mistake. There, on one of the stocking welts of the jet-black stocking was a shiny reflection of almost transparent silvery color. She picked up the delicate slippery stocking and ran it through her hands smoothly, slowly and very carefully. On the stocking welt, she spotted a very thin but still slightly damp stain, again there lower at mid calf, and larger stains on the dark reinforced heel and toes of the stocking. Joan was not surprised, as she knew the many weaknesses of men far too well, which had always excited her. This proof black stocking woman was all she needed to move forward with her plan. 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. IТm very particular about my legs. TheyТre long and gorgeous and never fail to grab attention, from women as well as men. IТve never been with another girl, but nothing turns me on more than catching a beautiful woman blonde in black stocking 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 black stocking gallery sternly. Nothing, he replied, his cheeks flushing red. Picking up my other stocking, I told him to turn around and face me. Just as IТd 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. Never one to take a chance, we began conversing on this wonderful subject. She told me that she loved to wear lace top stockings with seams down the back and loved the attention she received when wearing. I told her that I preferred women who were into the classic 100% nylons, such as Full Fashioned black stocking free movie and my all time favorites reinforced heel and toe stockings with a sling back shoe or sandal. I was also honest with my love of wearing them myself at times, that really got her interested in me even more. We chatted for more than three hours on the subject. She told me that we lived less than 40 minutes from each other and knowing that she was so close, I asked if she would like to meet from Brunch the following Sunday. To my surprise she accepted but asked if she could call me on the phone. I gave her my number and black stocking foot she call immediately. We really hit it off on the phone and talked for another hour. There was no talk of sex just stockings and our personal lives. I asked her if she would like me to bring some RH&T stockings for her to try and she thought that would be a wonderful idea and before we ended the conversation she confirmed our meeting Sunday. She suggested a place close to her that she enjoyed and it was a date. Sandra came over to collect the wife Ann. Ann wasnТt quite ready so I offered Sandra a drink while she waited. She was dressed well, nothing spectacular, a simple dress that came to just below the knees. I had never paid much attention to SandraТs looks, of course there was the odd moment that everyman goes through, wondering what babes in black stocking she would be like in bed. But heyЕdoesnТt make me a bad person. What caught my eye tonight was when she sat on the edge of the seat and crossed her legs. Her legs were covered in nylon, and as the dress tightened round her thigh, I could make out the suspenders holding up her stockings. I always had a fetish for nylons and stockings, and when I seen this I was immediately looking at Sandra in a different light. My eyes locked on to her thighs, it may have been a few seconds, but it was enough for me black mania stocking to get caught. Sean, what are you looking at? I looked up and looked into her eyes trying to find an answer. Nothing was coming out my mouth. Ehhhhhh, nothing, I was just daydreaming was the best I could muster together. Yeh right said Sandra. ItТs only my suspender belt, does it look stupid under this dress? Oh shit what will I say. Not at all, I just never imagined you to wear stockings and suspenders. You prick, I called myself. I better chase up Ann and see if sheТs black stocking secretary nearly ready. I remove my dress... undoing the halter neck and let it slide to the floor... underneath I'm wearing a black lace strapless torsolette with thigh high lace top garter stockings... tres sexy... You watch as I unclip the stockings and begin to remove them... sliding them slowly down my thighs and calves... mmm... nice feeling... silky nylon... black community stocking type don't move baby... I'm just going to tie one around your wrist... You watch as I attach one end of the smooth material around your wrist... don't fidget... now the other one on your other wrist... I can see you are excited... but a little nervous also.. Shhhh... don't speak... don't move... raising one arm at a time, I attach the other black stocking free gallery end of the stocking to the chandelier. Ooh baby... you just look so helpless there... and so delicious.. Pulling your head down towards me, I kiss you again... and you can feel my fingers at your shirt... undoing the buttons.. opening your shirt... mm... love your chest... smooth and muscular... I start to kiss my way down your neck... onto your chest... mmmm... I'm just going to have to taste those nipples... pulling one into my mouth mature black stocking with my teeth... gently biting at it... then sucking on it and blowing at it gently as it leaves my mouth... raising it up a little, till it's hard and erect.. NO. Just sometimes. Do you ever, you know. What? Do you ever Ц do it also? What? Do you ever put one in your mouth? NO, I havenТt Do you ever want to? No. Are you sure? DonТt you think about it? DonТt you think about doing it? DonТt you think about doing it when you are wearing my panties? When you put on your garter belt and stockings Ц donТt you think about it then? AhЕ well. My wife knew I loved wearing stockings, garter belt and panties. IТd been doing it for years and it stared when I always wanted her to wear them when we fucked. It really turns me on. Then one day black stocking suspender she said, If it turns you on so much, maybe you should wear them. I agreed and put them on before we fucked. I was wonderful! I loved it. She would wear them also and sometimes it was just me. She knew IТd been trying on and wearing stockings because she found my stash once. This was her way of getting it out in the open. NO. Hmmm.. really? They sure read like you want to do it. NO. Really? Then why write them? Ah, they turn me on. So you do want to do those things. NO. Listen to yourself, "Tina." That's what you call yourself, isn't it? I nodded my head yes. They have a common thread, don't they? You want someone to lead you to do it, because in black stocking you don't have the nerve to do what you want to do. Isn't that right? No, I don't think so. Yes, I think so, No. You want someone to lead you because you don't have the balls to do it by yourself. If you had the balls, you'd be sucking cocks all of the time, wouldn't you? Just over a month before, we had left the Episcopal Church we had attended for almost a year. Peggy said it was because Episcopals had a soft stance on gays in their priesthood. In my opinion, although I would never openly admit it, she had left because of the new carpet they had put down three weeks before. It had been a hideous shade of burnt orange. Perhaps a bit of the shallowness had soaked in, after all. The lovely woman waved those long legs under that organ. A tall woman, perhaps 5'10" with those long, slender legs, she wore her mousy brown hair short, emphasizing her long regal neck.. She wore long dresses, which teen black stocking I like, but pulled them back so the skirt didn't interfere with the pedal action. The church was laid out in a semicircle. By chance, we had ended up far to the side about ten rows back from the organ. Even though the church was packed with more than its share of young singles and couples, this side of the auditorium remained comfortably less crowded. Maybe it was the great view of the organ in profile that drove people towards the middle. The moment I saw the organist and her great gams, I knew I'd at least have something decent to look at during the service. Sitting across from her now deprived me from watching the little foot show she was giving me earlier but the conversation was going well. We must have had 3 or 4 drinks together and I was getting bolder in my conversation black stocking video and eventually it turned to sex and relationships. Linda told me that she was 39 and was divorced with a 15-year-old daughter who was away at a private boarding school. She had been divorced for 3 years from a doctor who decided that he was gay and was living with a young man. She was really quite open and as we kept drinking so was I. I was 32 at the time and had always been turn on by older women. We both talked about current relationships we were having, which black lace stocking were on and off for both of us. When she asked me again what got my attention for the second time, I was honest with her and asked her if she was wearing stockings with a garter belt. She asked me how I could possibly know that since she was wearing slacks. I told her that I saw the reinforcements in her nylons and it immediately got my attention. She complemented me on my knowledge of hosiery and told me that she felt more comfortable in stockings and cotton panties. She also said that she was wearing a garter girdle to hold in her tummy, as she was not as young as she use to be. I was also told that she preferred fetish black stocking reinforced nylons as they held up better in preventing runs. So, now that you know a little more about me, I want to share with you my story. It begins just under two years ago, in London. It was a crisp autumn day, and I was meeting a gentleman friend for lunchЕ well, not just lunch, I have to admit. This gentleman and I were rather intimately acquainted, and the meal was to be a somewhat extended version of foreplay, which would end in a hotel room, where he would undress and worship me, kissing my thighs, running his hands up and down my nylon-clad legs, stroking my feetЕ you get the picture, I'm sure. And so, of course, I had black stocking and garter belt chosen my outfit with great care. I often like to dress quite severely, in a business-like manner, and on this particular occasion I was wearing a fitted black wool suit, with a tight A-line skirt to just above the knee, and a simple white long-sleeved shirt. With my hair up and my tortoiseshell spectacles, I looked the very image of respectability, but underneathЕ that was something else altogether. For my afternoon of pleasure, I had chosen a black lace bra which perfectly cupped my soft, ivory breasts with their palest pink nipples, and matching lace knickers, through which you could just see my gorgeous, silky russet-coloured bush. The piece de resistence - a 6-strap suspender pantie black stocking belt to hold up my barely black fully-fashioned hose. My slender, dainty feet were encased in 1940's style black leather pumps with 4-inch heels. As I got dressed I imagined myself a few hours later, spread-eagled on the hotel bed clad just in my undergarments and hosiery, the black contrasting starkly with my alabaster skin and my red hair. I became so excited black stocking tgp I nearly laddered a stocking! 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