Poer Chips and Pantyhose

I'm buying you some pantyhose. You're going to wear them for me and then I'm going to tear a hole in them and fuck you through them.

Hazel read the text again and smiled before setting the phone down in the passenger seat and pulling out of her apartment's parking lot. She had a drive ahead, and then a full day and night of pleasures awaited her in Charlie's bed. Adjusting the volume on the stereo, she turned onto the highway and took a deep breath, telling herself to chill out. She couldn't help her excitement. The man played her body like a Stradivarius. She could almost cum just thinking about him entering her.

Prior to him, this year's dating had yielded some fun, a few sparks, but nothing comparable to the electricity she felt at his touch. They had gone out for dinner on their first date, and afterward had strolled around her city's downtown. She had been jabbering on about something inconsequential when he stopped her suddenly and kissed her deeply on the street corner, in front of God and everyone, and her friends who were streaming out of the yoga studio across the street. Despite being distracted by her friends' sudden appearance, and feeling totally inappropriate, she let him continue kissing her, noting the goosebumps on her arms, seemingly an effect of his hands. His hands.

She blushed thinking about that first night. He had quickly established their roles, ordering her down onto her knees. Without a word she had sank down to the floor, taking his offered cock into her mouth. His scent, and the taste of precum, had her moaning softly as he buried a hand in her hair and shoved her head down further, pushing himself all the way in, fucking her face. She could feel her pussy getting wet now, thinking of having him between her lips. Nothing made her wetter, in fact, then his dick in her mouth. She adored his mouth on her, expertly teasing and sucking her clit. His fingers conjured magic. But the fastest way to get her dripping was for him to shove that cock down her throat.

Her phone pinged, his text tone.

In less than an hour I'll be inside you. My submissive little slut.

45 minutes later, she pulled into his driveway. Texting him that she had arrived, she flipped the visor mirror down and gave her makeup a quick check. He appeared through the garage door, and she got out. He hugged her and grabbed her bag, leading the way inside the house. Once inside the kitchen, he set down the bag and kissed her hungrily, pressing her against the island. She felt her lips bruising under his ardor, and his stubble scratched pleasantly against her skin. He broke the kiss, leaning back and smiling at her. His chilly blue eyes warmed a little, and she smiled back,

"I missed you," she said.

"I missed you, too." He kissed her again and murmured against her lips, "Let's go upstairs." Hazel giggled and followed him through the house, past the atrium and up the stairs, into the bedroom. Once inside, he handed her the panythose he had bought for her.

"Go put these on." She slipped into the bathroom, looking at the hosiery. Not her color, but whatever. Lifting her dress, she slipped off her panties and, one leg at a time, wriggled her way into the pantyhose. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she had no idea why this was his thing. She felt bound, restricted, inhibited. But this was what her man wanted, and what made him happy, made her happy. More than happy. She drank in his arousal like wine.

She re-entered the bedroom, and took in his smile at seeing her.

"Come over here, by the edge of the bed. In the light. Get down on your hands and knees."

She complied wordlessly.

He pushed her dress up over her hips. "Face on the floor. Fuck yeah. You look so hot like that."

He ran his hands over her thighs, her ass, her pussy, rubbing her through the hose. It was a pleasurable sensation, but odd. There was friction where there usually wasn't. She was closing her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hands running over her, when she heard a ripping sound and felt him tearing a hole through the material over her ass and pussy. She started to raise herself back up, startled and nervous at the sudden exposure, and he ordered her back down. Face back on the floor. Naked ass in the air.

"Who does that pussy belong to?" he asked her.

"This pussy belongs to you. Just you."

"That's right. You're my dirty little whore."

"Yes, sir."

She felt the cold metal of a butt plug press against her ass, and she involuntarily jerked a little. Sudden slickness of lube, and he was pushing the plug into her,slowly.

"Relax. That's right. Good girl."

She pushed back against it, taking it, gasping a bit as its widest point slipped in. He began rubbing her pussy again and she moaned.

"That's good. That's my filthy slut." She gasped again as she felt a dildo push into her pussy. Again she started to raise back up, and he pushed her back down. She made some small noise of mingled pleasure and frustration, and he began sliding the dildo in and out of her. She had never in her life felt so exposed, so like a breathing doll. Being posed, being used for someone else's pleasure. She had never let anyone see her like this, her ass and pussy fully on display. She couldn't see him, couldn't see anything but the white carpet her cheek pressed against. She was his toy. And she was loving it, through the discomfort. Maybe because of the discomfort. She arched her back and moaned as he fucked her faster with the dildo. To her surprise and delight, she felt an orgasm beginning to build. She rocked back against the dildo, breathing heavier as her pleasure grew.

"Yeah. You like that, whore?"

"Yes!" she gasped out. Then the dildo was gone.

"Get up on the bed, hands and knees. I'm going to fuck you now."

She scrambled up onto the bed, happy to obey and eager for the promised fucking. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her against him. He was rubbing the head of his cock against her wetness, and then he was pushing it into her and she felt the first wave of pleasure at the sudden fullness. He pulled almost all the way out and then slammed back into her and she cried out, pushing back, instinctively meeting his rhythm as he began thrusting into her, hard.

"Fuck, you're tight," he gasped, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling.

"Your cock feels so fucking good," she moaned. She was already starting to cum. Closing her eyes, she let the waves crash over her as he slowed his pace. He let her finish and then told her, "Turn over, I wanna see you." She flipped onto her back, drawing her knees up and parting her legs for him. He pushed his cock back into her, closing his eyes for a moment and then looking down at her. Goddamn, he was beautiful like this, hips thrusting, lips parted, breath heavy. She raised a hand up, running it over his chest and gazing at him, those enigmatic eyes, his blond hair, gray at the temples, damp with sweat. Pushing her hips up to meet him, another orgasm broke over her, stronger than the last.

"Good girl, cum on my dick," he said, and of course she did. She was just beginning to orgasm a third time when his breath caught and he arched his head back, pushing deep into her and filling her with his cum. He shuddered and collapsed onto her for a moment, and she held him close. He turned over onto his back and held his arm out, beckoning her into his crook.She curled up against him, head on his chest. Still trembling, she breathed in their mingled scents and smiled. She felt his cum on her thighs and this pleased her as well. She glanced up at his face, and he down at her. His eyes were warmer now. She kissed him softly, once, twice, and laid her head back down, sighing happily.