A Stocking Encounter

The man and woman sat at their table in the veranda of the hotel awaiting their food. Both eagerly excited to see what would be concocted from their initial orders from the menu. As she twirled her honey colored Pies porter in her fishbowl-sized glass, bored by her companion and the lack of their conversation, her eyes scanned the restaurant looking from one couple to the next searching for a true match made in heaven. The 5-star Tuscan-based restaurant nestled itself quietly in the center of the hotel. Hundreds of rooms overlooked the broad style and finish of the highly eloquent eatery. Reservations were taken months in advance. He had made them several months back as a surprise for their 10th anniversary. Neither knew that the night would fizzle even before they set foot in this quaint hotspot. An argument had ensued in the car about how damn long it had taken her to get ready. He was such a tightass about being to the destination early. She disregarded his complaint and told him to loosen up. He had already hit the red zone for high blood pressure. Upon entering the hotel, he still relentlessly did not ease up. This made for an awkward dinner conversation.

Moving her head, peering at other couples as if she was a surveillance camera sweeping her head slowly back and forth from side to side, she saw no one worth giving her full attention to. Loosing concentration of her swirling motion of her glass, she got clumsy. Some of the sweet Pies porter shot out of the glass and dotted her large chest just below her aquamarine colored pearl necklace. She quickly turned her attention toward him to see his reaction. He was still pissed and unamused. He showed little tolerance for her and just sat there and let the sweet succulent drops slowly slide down between her breasts. She decided to see if he would trash his attitude from the car ride over and playfully follow the descending drops down into the canyon of desire. He did no such thing. He grabbed his cloth napkin from his lap and tossed it across the table toward her, motioning for her to mop herself up. Livid, she tilted her head back and guzzled the rest of her sweet tasting wine in one quick motioned fell swoop.

Announcing, "I'm going to the effing bar to get something a bit more powerful."

He waived her away without a hint of remorse. With his back to the bar sitting at the table, and her back to him as she approached the bartender, she figured it was time to break out the heavy alcohol to drown her sorrows quickly and effectively. Summoning to the bartender that she would like a doubleshot of Crown Royal and a Martini—stirred with 2 olives—she lopped her purse on the counter and stood there waiting for him to comply. Suddenly, she felt 2 very muscular hands place themselves on her hips and slowly side around to the front of her abdomen and gently make their way toward her C-cup breasts. She smiled and thought that it was about time that he came and apologized for treating her like shit on this very special night. A warm breath nuzzled up to her ear and bit at the lobe and whispered softly to her in a sensual way.

"I can't believe how sexy you look and how stunning you smell right now. How is it that your husband isn't even the least bit attracted to you right now?"

She spun around on her right heel and faced him for the second time today. His sexy smile immediately melted her all over again. She had casually bumped into him earlier at the grocery store while purchasing some milk, lipstick, and a nice bottle of Aussie Merlot. He had nothing more than a pack of gum and a mega family size box of condoms. She snorted at the idea that he was arming himself with so many. She figured he would be dating an entire WNBA women's basketball team tonight. His smile lightened up when he saw her eyes question the box of condoms. That smile instantaneously made her knees melt. That encounter at the store was the first time she had seen him in about 15 years. They had gone their separate ways out of high school and decided to see where life took them. Ironically, life had given them a chance encounter.

Now, staring into his hazel eyes with her own questioning deep blue eyes, she smiled and then spilled out,

"What the eff are you doing here?"

He retorted, "I'm checking you out. I just had to follow you because I couldn't get enough of your beauty earlier."

Cracking another smile he confessed the truth. It turns out that his friend was getting married in one of the banquet rooms in this very same hotel. He was being bombarded by single women to dance and that just wasn't his thing. He needed some space and air and upon walking out of the banquet room saw the last 5 minutes of her interaction with her husband. He dually noted that it looked awfully unpleasant. He snuck a quick look at her again and remarked at how gorgeous she looked completely dressed up. It made her blush and he loved doing that to her. She also didn't mind hearing sexy compliments about herself that she never heard anymore from her husband.

Looking her over he noticed her liquid satin sky blue colored Donna Karan sundress that was covering only one shoulder. The other shoulder was completely nude and showing off a fetching tan. The dress dipped halfway down her bust line showing off her well proportioned and natural C-cup breasts. Her hair pinned up and giving way to all the secret spots of her neckline. He commented on her aquamarine necklace and said that it added a touch of class to her naughty demeanor.

"What do you mean?" she commented.

"I knew the sexiness you portrayed in high school with the entire line of fancy underwear you wore on a daily basis. Did you forget we once dated? Naughtiness like that doesn't fade with the person through the years, but rather it strengthens with age. I know what you're donning under there," he whispered discreetly.

This caused her to crack a smile. Her heart picked up the pace as his eyes dropped southward to her long and toned tanned legs. He cracked a smile showing his white teeth and motioned without saying anything with his mouth, "Thigh-Highs."

She laughingly shook her head no and said, "In your dreams."

He whispered, "I'll bet you your panties right here and now that you're wearing nude thigh-highs and not hose."

She shook her head signifying "NO DEAL."

"What's the matter", he quietly whispered, "Are you afraid of loosing to an old boyfriend and having to dish your undies to the guy you still think about?"

Stepping closer, he faintly whispered even quieter, "Seeing you today in the store reaffirmed my idea of why I never got married myself. I never gave up hope that one day we would meet up again and the sexual chemistry would ignite this burning feeling I've got growing down here."

He motioned effortlessly to his crotch. She so badly wanted to grace it with the tips of her fingers. Her tongue protruded from her mouth and lightly licked her bottom lip. The deliciously naughty thoughts that were being tossed around in her head created a spark of her own. She felt the moistness between her legs growing. She knew she had to stop this before it sent her over the edge and cause her knees to buckle. She stepped backward toward the bar as his hands graced her leg and began moving north to investigate if, in fact, his accusation of her stockings was in fact true. She casually batted his hand away and swung her hips and sidestepped her old acquaintance making her way back to the table empty-handed. The smile that was exploding from her mouth was larger than life. As she sat down at the table facing the bar, she dared not to look up at him again. Her pulse was beginning to level out.

"Where the eff is your drink?" the prick-of-the-night beckoned.

"I slammed it at the bar and decided to come back to apologize to you for being late tonight. I really don't want to argue on our anniversary. Please forgive me!"

Her husband actually turned away her apology and began going off about her lack of decency and respect for others. His anger flared, obviously not willing to let her actions go. Not believing his temper or words being thrown out at her, she took the abuse and listened to what he had to dish at her. In the middle of his thought, he was interrupted by the ex-boyfriend.

"Excuse me," looking solely at her, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I think we went to high school together."

Her concentration broken now, she couldn't believe what her ex was doing. It took some major balls to do this—yet he was a master at it.

"Yes," she gracefully said, "I think I we did. You look awfully familiar."

Flashing his killer smile that melted her every time, he reintroduced himself to her. She couldn't believe he was doing this. His confidence was so attractive and sexy. Turning to her dirt bag of a husband, he kindly introduced himself. The husband glared at him before taking notice of his 3-button navy Ralph Lauren suit. His mint lightning-patterned tie coordinated perfectly with it. He donned a slip-on Kenneth Cole midnight black square toed shoe. The husband recognized that this guy was suave and sophisticated. He felt a tinge of jealousy that Don Juan here had once dated his wife—that is, until he noticed his wedding ring.

The husband had to clear the air, "So you're married?"

The intruder nodded and smiled again. She motioned for him to join her for a few moments to catch-up. The husband did not object. She knew damn well that the ring was a decoy to ease the husband's mind and place him in a realm of comfort so he could feel better that this showboat was not bringing on competition. He slid into the chair next to the prick and began explaining that he was here for his friend's wedding. She was diagonal from him and contorted her body to face him head-on. He also added that he would be a guest here tonight at the hotel because he did not know as to what time the wedding would be over, nor the condition he would be in to drive. Her ears and attention swiftly perked at the mention of that important fact. She smiled and he winked at her.

The next few minutes were a blur for him as he began telling the husband about how he and his ex-girlfriend were inseparable in high school. They did everything together. He even mentioned the prom. As he went into the funny story about their prom and how they both ended up getting kicked out of the dance for their lewd conduct of placing "I'm an Asshole" tags on the backs of the head and assistant principals, he felt something beginning to snake itself between his legs and lightly rub around feeling the dimensions of what he was hiding beneath his pants. It was her right nylon encased foot. Apparently, she had slipped off her cream Alfani four inch pump and was irresistibly teasing him beyond his wildest expectations. This lit him up and caused him to rise to the occasion instantaneously. She felt his enormous bulge balloon up and continued to work her magic with her feminine size seven foot. Her smiled never wavered. Since the linen from the tablecloth hung low over his crotch, the husband was never the wiser. A few times, the gentleman's voice cracked while telling the husband one of his stories due to the ongoing pleasure he was receiving from his reintroduced friend from across the way. She would pretend to laugh at the right times, but secretly she really laughed at how he was handling himself. She knew she could keep this up all night. The question was, how long would he be rising to the challenge? She was so incredibly turned on with his debonair good looks and confidence that was radiating from where he was sitting, that she found herself being attracted to him all over again. She didn't give a shit about her limp dick husband or his pussy attitude that he brought to the evening. Unknowingly, she began to grind between his legs harder and with more intensity. He looked as if he was going to explode. His face began to twist in an awkward way and he stopped mid sentence on one of his stories.

The husband croaked, "Hey, are you okay. You look effing messed up."

The gentleman ignored his comment and waived him off as to say he was fine. He casually slid his left hand below the table and gently grasped her foot. She was smiling widely, clearly enjoying this. He figured he would repay her and begin massaging her nylon engulfed foot. He loved the feel of the material. It was so sensuous and silky to the touch. He deeply wanted to know her secret of whether she was still a thigh-high girl or not. His guess was that she still was.

He told the husband that he would finish this last funny story he had to tell about her cheerleading days. He promised to be quick. Glancing over in her direction quickly, he could tell she was enjoying every bit of what he was doing to her. The waves of pleasure were being received fully and with great enjoyment. The look on her face said it all. Her eyes closed, her lips pursed together and her breasts heaving with each heavy breath. He knew he had her.

Suddenly, the husband exclaimed, "What the eff is the matter with you, honey? You look like your ready to climax or something."

Her foot immediately retreated to her side of the table back into her expensive shoe and her eyes busted open in shock.

"What? What was that?" she said. "Ohh, oh no. I'm okay. I was just reminiscing of the old times."

The husband didn't buy it. His suspicions rose. The handsome guy looked at her and asked if she would like to see some current pictures of his wife and kids he had in his wallet.

Skeptically, she agreed. He stood up to take a seat next to her, but she suddenly remembered that he would still be erect and a dead give away to her husband. To deter her husband's attention from any notice of what the handsome guy might have pointing in his pocket like a pencil, she purposefully reached out and bumped his glass of wine, knocking it over and onto her husband. He was less than thrilled by the chilled liquid cascading down the tablecloth and onto his pants. Instinctively, he pushed his chair back to avoid the wine and stood up. It was too late. He was doused with about 10 ounces of sweet liquid. The look he gave his wife could have killed her right then and there. Excusing himself, he made way for the restroom to clean himself up. He ordered her to get him another drink by the time he came back.

The handsome man sat calmly next to her and whispered, "You're husband is a naïve and pompous effing prick."

She nodded back to him, "Yeah, what a way to spend my anniversary. I'm surely not giving him any satisfaction of any kind tonight."

Placing his hand gently on the bridge of her knee and slowly sliding it north under her light dress to investigate, he muttered, "He may not be getting any, but I'd sure like to rekindle some of this sexual tension between both of us. My God, did I tell you how incredible you look."

Looking deep into her large blue eyes, he whispered, "You're more beautiful than ever."

His hand suddenly stopped at the top of her stocking on her thigh. It answered his prominent question posed earlier.

He smiled and said, "I was right, you haven't changed a bit. You're lucky you didn't bet me, because right now I'd be demanding my prize—your panties."

He continued to glance in the direction of the restrooms checking to make sure that the prick wasn't going to steal any of these precious minutes with his rekindled sexpot.

Snickering slightly, she bellowed, "Looks like you're the naïve one, stud. You don't remember anything about me from the past other than my love for thigh-highs, because..."

She leaned in close and nibbled on his earlobe and proclaimed, "when I get dressed up, I don't prefer to wear any panties."

Melting lower into his seat, he closed his eyes and his lips pressed together and curved into an upward curved smile. With that, his manly bulge grew large again. She then placed her hand on it to further investigate it, while slightly stretching open her legs. He immediately took notice of this and walked his fingers further up her thigh to investigate. What he found was an eye-opening and energetic boost of desire for her. He could feel her honey pot drenched and emitting desirable signals to explore at will. The man's fingers covered in her juices exuberated great warmth and moisture everywhere. He was loving every minute of it. He decided to take a chance and give her special spot a soft flick with his index finger.

"Ohhhh...do it again", she purred in his ear, responding with a handful of his pants in her grasp as she began to really clutch his manly loin and pump it this way and that.

Instinctively, he did it again and got glorious reviews from her hand. He applied a little pressure to her nub and began rubbing it in a circular motion. All hell broke loose. Going stiff as a board with her legs, she clutched the table with one hand and squeezed his cock with her other hand so hard that he thought it felt like a vice grip. The blood and circulation flow was completely cut off.

Add to that that she yelped out, "OHHHHHHH......HOLY SHIT!"

All talking in the restaurant ceased instantly. People focused their eyes on the two of them. Immediately his hand pulled away from her sweet spot and went limp. He thought he hurt her and was deducing a way to help.

"What did you stop for?" She bellowed, "That felt effing amazing. He hasn't touched me like that in years. Do it again, please. I want it again, now."

He was shocked that that was all it took for her. As couples around them turned their conversations back to one another he skillfully he made his way back to her sensitive area. His pinkie grazed her mound and he took note that she was donning a neatly trimmed one-inch wide landing strip. He loved art displayed in the most intimate areas. He snickered and using his ring finger applied a bit of pressure to her spot. She tensed up again and closed her eyes enjoying the pleasure he was bringing to her. It was taking her breath away and bringing her back to the days when she had regular orgasms without having to think about them. He decided to find out if she would enjoy this experience if he would take it a step further. While his ring finger made circular motions, his index finger parted her lips and entered her ever so slowly. Her eyes cracked open as she turned her head toward him and gave him her approving nod that agreed with what she was doing. A few more seconds of this erotic play and it was over.

Just as the fun had begun, the dick of a husband was making his way back from the restroom. Though he was taking his time, his attention was focused on the hostess and her short black dress in which she was showing quite a bit more cleavage than she should of. The handsome man's hand retreated from the comfort of her honey pot and slid its way back into his pocket fumbling aimlessly for something. She opened her eyes and noticed immediately why her tight and much needed orgasm would not happen now. Fire burned in her eyes as she glared at the prick checking out the other woman. Quickly she turned to her stallion and tried to tell him that she wanted to finish what had now started up between them again, but she stopped when she felt his hand re-enter under her dress again. He found her garter strap and gently slid something smooth and cool between it and her skin. All at once he removed his hand from the undercarriage of her dress, stood up, buttoned his coat to hide his erection, and placed his hand back into his pocket. Just then the husband made his last turn and advanced on the table. The handsome man thanked the husband for allowing him the opportunity to say hello to his ex-girlfriend. Turning to her, he winked and said his goodbye wishing her luck in the future. He strolled outside of the restaurant and disappeared past the bar. The husband sat down and asked what had happened while he was away.