The Silkiness

Both characters appearing in this work of erotic fiction are over 18 years of age. In my imagining, as I type this story out, both are actually between 25 and 30 and are purely fictional.

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Leg up and foot pointed. The bundled sheer fabric is pulled taut against those cute toes and the hose is slowly pulled up and over her foot. The silken black stocking travels up her ankle and over her calf as her hands work back and forth keeping the material even.

Once up over her knee, she brings her foot down and rests it lightly on the floor, toes still pointed. Shifting on the edge of the bed her hands slowly, so slowly continue to work the stocking, encasing her shapely leg. When she reaches the top, she straightens a wrinkle at the back of her thigh. Her foot comes up again, toes still pointed. She runs her hands over the sheer material, straightening and smoothing wrinkles, caressing, enjoying the feel of the stocking against her skin.

Turning to her right she reaches for something then changes her mind. Instead she stands and checks herself in the mirror. Her wide hips and tight ass are framed by the hanging straps of her lace garter belt while her neatly trimmed thatch shows off in the reflection. She turns this way and that, different poses to show off her white stocking clad leg. The smooth tight material really showcases the fine shape of her calf, her thigh. She returns to the bed and picks up the second stocking.

I muffle a groan. My cock is already rock hard from just watching her put on one and now she going to start with the second! I so want to grope myself but I dare not move. I didn't know she was home until I heard her on the stairs. In a panic, I threw myself into the first hiding place I saw; her wardrobe.

Now here I am crouched between dresses and pant suits, holding stacks of shoe boxes from falling over. At first I couldn't see her when she entered the room. My heart nearly burst when she walked into view of the slightly ajar wardrobe door. Walking right towards me, her long brown pony tail swaying. The thin white T-shirt doing little to hide the fact she was not wearing a bra, or hide her nipples. Tight black stretch pants, really showed off the wide curves of her hips.

I was ready. When she opens the door to the wardrobe, I would burst out with my head down so she couldn't see my face then shove her towards the bed. With any luck, she would fall into it. Then out the door, down the stairs and hopefully the front door isn't locked, slowing my escape. What a dumb thought, of course it's locked. No one in this city is that stupid.

But she didn't open the door, and I hesitated. She pulled open and rummaged around in a drawer instead. I could see her hip and the side of her left leg, close enough to touch. I held my breath, in fear she would hear me. The drawer slid shut and another one opened, then closed before she walked back towards the bed, and tossed a couple things I couldn't see on to it.

Then the posing began.

Standing in front of the mirror, I could see most of her from behind as well as her front side in the mirror. She turned this way and that, checking herself out. Then, she leaned forward and squeezed her tits between her arms and does the social media duck face. Then the displeased CEO. The sexy model. The shy yet coy school girl. The wanton temptress. She posses them all in front of that mirror. In front of me. The whole time, I'm thinking she's pretty damned hot, don't stop and, I really want to get out of here.

The 'I really want to get out of here' thought blew right out my head when she pulled her t-shirt off. This woman has a spectacular set of breasts! She cupped them and wiggled them at her reflection. With a faint smirk, she turned sideways and checked out her profile. All I could think of was 'Wow!' as my mouth hung open. Then my mind was rendered speechless by her next move.

Grabbing hold of her stretch pants, she slipped them down over her hips to her knees. Hopping about on one foot then the other, she pulled them from her long lean legs and absently tossed them behind her. As she's hopping about, I watch her tight sweet ass and snatch glimpses of blue pantie clad snatch. I almost laughed at my lame juvenile humour. Maybe it was the stress, or the fear. Or the slow hardening of my cock. Then she took her panties off and had my cock's full attention. She flashed a quick look in the mirror and she turned and sat on the edge of the bed, picking up a white lace garter belt.

That's when I shifted to get a better view and bumped the shoe boxes. And here I am still crouched uncomfortably with a stack of boxes leaning against me. But at least I have a better view.

The gorgeous woman on the bed starts bunching the second stocking up but part of it slips from her grasp and lands on her thigh. She stops and the faintest of smiles appears on her face. She pulls the stocking, making it slowly trail over her skin and the smile widens. She pulls it even more slowly up her leg, up her toned stomach, between her breasts to her shoulder before wrapping it around the back of her neck. I hear a faint sigh.

Oh. My. God. It has to be one of the sexiest things I have ever witnessed. She switches hands and brings the stocking around her neck and it slips down over her breast where it hangs up on a hard nipple. Okay perhaps I was wrong. That is the sexi...

She lets out a quiet moan, bunches up the stocking over her hand and starts caressing herself. Everywhere. I am transfixed. There is nothing in my mind but her slow moving stocking clad hand. Well, that and the fact that my pants are now way too tight for my now rock hard cock.

Her eyes are closed and she's rubbing back and forth over her nipples. Damn she is so hot! Her hand travels down and between her legs and a moan escapes her before she stops. Quickly she bundles up the stocking, raises her leg and slips it up and on in record time. Again she runs her hands up her leg, smoothing and straightening the sheer fabric.

Sitting on the bed in front of the mirror she's checking her legs out. They are perfect, well, to me they are. The white stockings cling to her, accentuating her long lean lines. Satisfied, she starts clipping them to the garter belt. If anything, she looks even sexier. She stands and finishes with the clips, adjusts the garter, all the while checking herself out in the mirror.

I don't know if it's the garter belt doing it to me, or that her stockings are now pulled even tighter. Either way I can't take. As careful as I can I shift first my left foot, then my right but am forced to freeze as the shoe boxes shift against me a little more. It's enough and my hand is rubbing my cock through my trousers. Unfortunately, my ankles and knees are rather sore from squatting for so long.

Still in front of the mirror, she's leaning forward slightly, caressing her thighs with one hand and her breast with the other. The she straightens and her hand comes up, starts teasing and tickling her neatly trimmed pubic hair. Her other hand starts squeezing her breasts a little harder then pinches a nipple. I hear her sigh quite clearly.

I can't help it. I squirm a little, get a grip and slowly pull down my zipper but I'm too scrunched up. It jams, not even halfway down. The torture! My ankles are killing me, I have to move.

I feel the boxes leaning against me then holding the top one in front, I shift my weight back and pin the second stack with my side. Very slowly, carefully, I bring my left hand across my chest and hold the front box so I can run my right hand down the stack, pushing each box back against the wardrobe wall. With them no longer threatening to fall over, I do the same for the second stack. My ankles are practically screaming at me but I take it slow and quiet, and end up on my knees, sitting back on my feet. Oh blessed relief! Then I reach again for my zipper.

Damn, what did I miss? She on the very edge of the bed, legs spread wide and she's playing with herself! I watch as she's rubbing her pussy in a circular motion before bringing her fingers up to her mouth and sucking on them! She spits a little saliva onto her fingers and starts rubbing herself again. The whole time, she's watching herself in the mirror. In the reflection, I can see her hand bend down and back. She slips a finger inside her pussy and moans. Oh fuck that is so hot!

I had to fight my undershorts to free my extremely hard cock and now with it in my hand and hearing her moan like that, I'm squeezing and slowly stroking my shaft.

She's fallen back on the bed and I can't see her upper body now. But her hand is still working between her stocking clad legs and gathering speed. Suddenly she stops and sits up. Reaching to her right, she picks up and turns on a slightly curved bright pink vibrator. I can just barely hear the buzzing as she plays it over her breasts and nipples.

Oh my god! I can't believe she's doing this! I can't believe I'm watching! I lean forward, closer to the gap in the door. Shit! Did I make a noise? She shuts off the vibrator, sets it down beside her on the bed then stands and walks toward me! Shit! Shit! Shit! Trespassing, on my knees, hiding in her wardrobe, masturbating. What am I? Some kind of sex creep? No, I tell myself, I'm a burglar caught under extraordinary circumstances. I'm sure the cops and the Courts will understand. Even in my panic and sinking realization, my cock is still rock hard in my hand.

But again, she doesn't open the door. She standing right there and I so badly want to reach out and caress her. To feel the sheer fabric encasing her sexy legs. To stroke and run my tongue up her calf, the inside of her thighs. To feel the fabric, the smoothness caressing against my cheek. The silkiness.

A drawer opens and closes, then she walks back, out of my covetous reach, to the bed. In her hand is another stocking and she briefly glides across her breast before bunching it up like she is going to don it. She slips the vibrator into the toe and turns it on. I've stopped stroking myself and my hand grips my cock. I watch entranced as she runs the stocking clad vibrator over ever inch of her bare breasts. She's moaning at herself in the mirror and it takes every ounce of control to not moan with her. Then her hand guides the vibrator down, between her legs.

She panting, still watching herself in the mirror, as the stocking clad pink vibrator traces all around her pussy. She's teasing herself and torturing me. Then it's on her love button and her head goes back with a loud groan of pleasure. Her body starts squirming, her other hand rubbing her neck and down to her breast, down her side and searches for something on the bed.

It's a dildo! Deep purple and thick and looks ribbed. She slides it into her mouth, and I do moan. Luckily she's too entranced with her mirror image to notice. She slides it in and out a couple times, then makes sure it is well lubed with her saliva.

Down it comes, straight to her pussy and slowly, she slides it into herself. The whole time, the vibrator, wrapped in a silky stocking, never stops on her clit. Legs and hips twitching, she watches herself in the mirror. From my vantage point I can watch her and her reflection. The mirror is pure porn as I can see the toys working her pussy. From the side, it's pure eroticism as all I can see is the motion of her hands as she plays. I'm not sure which is hotter and really I don't care as my eyes flick back and forth between them. Perhaps the eroticism.

Falling back on the bed, her hand increases tempo and now she moaning and whimpering loudly. This is too much and I can feel my orgasm building as I pump faster. Wait! What am I doing! I can't do this, I can't cum in her wardrobe, like, like... Like some kind of pervert! I can't leave a mess in here, this is already way too creepy. I force myself to stop masturbating and whimper right along with her. Oh God, the torture!

Faster now, she's ramming the dildo between her legs as she slides the silken covered vibrator up and down against her clit. She's getting pretty loud.

Her muscles are shaking and she's wriggling around on the bed's edge. Legs in the air and half sitting up, her eyes are now glued to the reflection of her hand pumping the dildo into herself. Her face goes red and she lets out a long loud quavering moan as she cums. The vibrator drops from her quivering hand but the dildo picks up speed, her hand is practically a blur. Feet on the floor and her ass is now off the bed in her passion. Then her whole back is off the bed and she jams the dildo in deep, holds it there a split second, pulls it out and jams it in again. Three, four, five times she does this as she screams out her release.

I kneel motionless, in awe. Never have I ever seen such a show. Watching her cum like that and... And I don't know what. I have an almost overwhelming urge to burst out of this confining wardrobe and kneel between her legs and slip my tongue into her. I want to make her writhe and scream on my face like that. I have never seen a woman cum so hard before and I really, really want to make a woman do that under my attentions.

She lays there panting and I can only see her from the hips down. Her stocking clad legs are stretched out. I can't help but stare at them. They are so sexy. One clip on her garter has opened and it hangs down from her lovely waist. It just adds to the erotic pose.

She rouses herself and sits up. Her hair is a mess and she's covered in sweat, but to me she's as sexy as ever. Slowly she unsnaps the clasps and rolls the stockings down her legs. Watching that is almost as hot as watching her put them on. Almost. Garter belt quickly follows before she stands and walks through another door. A bathroom I think to myself and then I hear a shower running.

I pause giving her time to get in under the spray, then quickly push the wardrobe open and climb out. My knees are killing me but I have no time to waste. I push my still rock hard cock back into my pants and zip up. As I creep past the bed I see the stockings and toys laying there and stop. What the fuck! I don't have time for this, get out! But I can't help myself as I reach and pick up one of the stockings. So smooth. I rub the fabric between my fingers, so silky. Then against my cheek. Imagining it encasing her legs as she rubs her thighs against my face.

I'm such a fool! An idiot! Quickly I search the small table beside her bed but all I find is a pen. What the fuck! Just get out of there! I grab the first card I come across in my wallet and scrawl across the back. Then I turn back and leave the wardrobe door fully open. A pair of dirty shoe prints are clearly visible. There can be no doubt someone was crouched in there. No time! Get out! As I pass the bed again, I drop the pen and card on top of one of the stockings. The card, it's from Finnegan's Bar! Oh shit! Not that one...

The shower stops. Dammit! I flee the room, leaving the card where it lays. Down the stairs to the locked front door. And it does, very briefly slow my escape. I try to not let the door slam behind me as I run. Which is awkward with my boner.

Oh god I'm such a fool! The evidence I have left behind. Shoe prints. Hand writing. Fingerprints on the card! A card to a place where I am known as a regular! At least I didn't leave a sticky mess of DNA in her wardrobe. It's bad enough, but that would just be about a thousand times worse. I don't get much sleep that night. After relieving the hard throbbing tension between my legs, twice; dreams keep waking me up. Dreams of sexy naked policewomen in stockings opening doors and arresting me.

It's been a few weeks and my heart has almost stopped trying to leap out of my chest every time I hear a siren. I also seem to have developed a bad habit of staring at stocking clad legs. I can't help myself.

I walk into Finnegan's, it's not very busy as it's still pretty early on a Thursday night. There's maybe a dozen or so people. I nod to couple friends as I head over to order a drink and stop dead in my tracks.

She's sitting there at the bar in a white blouse. A tight black skirt that doesn't quite come down to her mid stocking clad thighs. And the stockings are beige. It's dim and her legs are in the shadow of the bar, but I can tell her stockings are not white and are too light for black.

I'm stunned then my heart is hammering in my ears while my cock stirs. Trying to be casual, I resume walking to the bar. I glance about a couple times for anyone that might even remotely look like a cop. But my eyes keep coming back to her crossed legs. Her stocking clad, very hot legs. She's wearing high heels, tall enough to be sexy while still low enough to be practical for walking. And her foot is rocking back and forth, like she's nervous. Or impatient. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail, just as it was that night. My cock stirs again, in remembrance as several erotic images flash through my mind. She is gorgeous and I can't stop looking at her legs. I grab an open stool half way down the bar from her.

"Heya Mike, what'll it be?" Steve the bartender asks even as he starts pouring my usual rye on the rocks. I give him a sickly grin and order a tequila which I toss back as soon as he sets in front of me. No salt. No lemon. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline in surprise. "Uhh, everything okay?" he asks tentatively. I gulp and clear my throat as I take my rye in a shaky hand.

"Oh, sure. Yea. Everything's great." And my eyes have gone straight back to her. I can only see her in profile. This time it is my cock does more than stir. "So, uhh. What's the story with the girl there in the white blouse?" Steve looks down the bar.

"Oh her. Yea haven't caught her name yet, but she's been in here a few times over the last week or so. A snappy dresser, always in a skirt." My stomach does a little flip at his words.

Steve pauses as he pours a couple orders for one of the waitresses. "A couple of the guys have hit on her, but she shoots them down pretty fast." He looks back to me, then at her again. His eyes narrow and he asks. "Why? You gonna try? She's out of your league man." My eyes have locked onto her legs yet again. I tear them away and look at Steve.

"Yea, I think I might. Got a card handy?"

"A card?" Dubiously asked.

"Yea, one of your business cards for the bar. And a pen."

"Your going to try and pick a girl, a woman. Dressed like that. With a card. A card to a business you don't even own." Steve asks disbelieving, hands on his hips. "Lame."

"Just gimme a card." I take it and flip it over and stare at the blank white underside. "Okay. Now I need you to do me two things. The first is don't read it and the second is don't point me out right away even if she asks. Got it?" Steve just looks at me. "Got it?" I ask a little more forcefully.

"Yeeaa, okaaaay. Don't read it, don't point you out. Now are you going to write something or not?" And his eyes flick down to the card.

I just smile and write 'Told you beige stockings are more your colour.'