Author's Note:
This story is a fun commission from one of my awesome Patrons, GrillFan65. Standard disclaimer applies: this story contains graphic depictions of nonconsensual sex, so if it's illegal or immoral for you to be reading this, stop now! All characters in this story are at least 18, all situations are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to any real-life individuals or situations is entirely coincidental. Copyright Fidget, 2020. All rights reserved. Enjoy!
Big Cat Leggings
by Fidget
Chapter 1: Calico
Amy plopped herself down on the couch to watch some TV after a long, hard day at work. At twenty-four, she had recently been promoted to head of social media relations for the local department store chain where she worked, and though she was exceptionally good at walking the marketing tightrope that was modern corporate social media, the young professional still came home at the end of most days completely exhausted.
Before she had the opportunity to fully relax, however, she heard a knock at the door. Hopping up, the petite, 5'2" brunette made her way across the living room and checked the peephole. Outside, she saw a surprisingly tall, voluptuous older woman who appeared to be in her early 40s, dressed in a black pleather jacket, a daringly low-cut pink tank top, and obnoxiously loud leopard-print leggings. The freckles from years of tanning beds were clearly visible on the woman's impressive cleavage, and Amy could tell that she worked hard for her figure by the toned thighs clearly visible through her skin-tight leggings. The outfit was cheap, tacky, and garish, though Amy had to admit that this woman somehow made it look oddly sexy on her curvy, mature figure. She was the kind of MILF that her son's friends would fantasize about for weeks after having them over for dinner, and she looked like she did everything she could to encourage the attention. She was holding a bag and clipboard, and the sharp, almost predatory look on her features was clearly visible despite the oversized sunglasses she was wearing.
It was obvious what was about to happen, but Amy didn't want to be rude, and so she braced herself and opened the door.
"Hi! I'm Karen! I live just down the street, and thought I'd introduce myself! I'm a Brand Advisor for a new, trendy leggings company whose product will absolutely blow you away! I used to always get back pain, but then ..."
Of course her name is Karen, Amy thought to herself, tuning out the majority of her neighbor's monologue. Entirely too familiar with MLM tactics from her own job in social media, after letting Karen talk for a minute or so, Amy interrupted mid-spiel with a polite "I'm not interested", and began to shut the door. Karen, however, didn't seem to want to take "no" for an answer, and had the audacity to slide her foot into the doorway before it could close. Annoyed, Amy opened the door back up, prepared to tell Karen off for her unprofessionalism, but found an opened pair of hideous leggings patterned after a Calico housecat thrust into her face instead.
"Here, just see how soft the fabric is!" Karen pleaded. "If you still don't want them once you've seen how great they feel, I'll leave you alone, I promise!"
"Fine," Amy said, willing to do whatever it took to get this suspiciously sexy older woman to leave her alone. She stretched out a hand to awkwardly pet the blotchy fabric, but was surprised to discover that the leggings were remarkably soft and silky. In fact, it was entirely too easy to just stand there, sliding her fingers across the smooth material, enjoying the pleasant tingle starting up in her hand from what she assumed must be the marvelous texture...
"See!? I told you they felt great!" Karen burst out, shaking Amy out of her reverie, and causing her to jerk her hand away from the leggings in surprise. Immediately, she felt an odd sense of loss, and was seized with a strong desire to reach out and touch them once more.
"Can I hold them?" Amy heard herself ask, and then once again felt the bliss of running her hands over the audacious but strangely appealing leggings, as both of her palms grew warm and tingly upon contact with the fabric. Amy was suddenly overcome with a need to feel them on her legs, and before she knew it, she was asking how much the leggings were, and then she was mechanically reaching into her purse to hand over $50, completely oblivious to the look of satisfied victory on Karen's face.
Instead, Amy immediately began rubbing her hands over the leggings, trying to get as much tingly skin contact as she could with the cheap, nylon-lycra blend material. "Don't you need my size?" Amy asked distractedly, but Karen responded, "Oh, they're one size fits all! They stretch to fit your body size, no matter how big you get!"