Fetish - lingerie, pantyhose, stockings

Susan’s note read:

Dearest one.

I was really excited when I saw you on campus today. I was wearing the red thong panties that you sent me in that “Confidential” distribution envelope. I was so hot that I stopped off in the ladies room and fingered myself through those panties. I know you like to have them sopping with my juices when I send them back to you.

I wanted to send Ann over to the mailroom and pick up the distribution all day, but I knew that if I did she might get suspicious. Well, at 3:30 your “Confidential” envelope arrived and it took all of my will power not to rip it open in the work room, but I waited till I got to my car at 4:30 to open it. I had stopped in the ladies room on my way out and took off the red thong you sent me and put it in my purse. By the time I got to the car I could feel moisture dripping onto my thigh. I hurriedly stuffed a couple of tissues between my legs before I got into my car because I didn’t to stain my skirt. Once the door was closed I ripped open your envelope and picked up the baggie that dropped out and opened it to smell your cum. It had soaked the new black thong that you had bought me. I looked around before I brought the panties to my nose and inhaled your wonderful, rich aroma.
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I walked into the bar and took in the atmosphere. Whilst early in terms of a night, at ten the place was beginning to fill up and the DJ was getting into his stride pumping out tunes which soon had the small dance floor packed to capacity. The dance floor was full of what appeared to be student types all dressed up to the nines for a night out on cheap beer and good music.

I saw her briefly from my spot by the corner of the bar, I was looking over the railing which ran around the edge of the raised bar area. She had dark hair, shoulder length and what appeared to be a firm body, and her breasts were pert straining against the tight black top she wore. It was one of those sheer types that showed me she was wearing what appeared to be a corset underneath. Her miniskirt was black leather casting a subdued reflection from the lights above. I couldn’t see her legs now, bar a brief glimpse of fishnet, but she was hot and definitely my type.
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To one afflicted with the habit, there is no respite. Its a curious phenomenon. They are all around and I treat them as if it was like a big stamp collection. Some people love to look at breasts, some are into asses. The thing that draws my attention is the female foot. Don’t get me wrong, breasts are certainly a close second, but I walk around and collect the images in my mind, comparing and contrasting, looking for those that I feel are most perfectly formed, prettiest, softest looking, and most lovingly cared for. I store those images and refer back to them for later comparison. There is something intricate and complicated about them. The rare sighting of perfectly formed feet is a special occurrence and worthy of some regard. It permeates my everyday life and I find myself staring constantly. Of all of the fetishes that are out there, I guess I am lucky that this benign form is what is what turns me on.
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Hello. My name’s Amanda - Amanda Scott. It’s Mrs Scott, actually, but I’ve been divorced for a long time. Tony and I got married when we were very young, but luckily we both had the sense to realise it wasn’t working out after the first couple of years, and we arranged a fairly amicable separation. I’m still called Mrs Scott at work — which gives me a bit of extra authority at times - but most people just call me Amanda.

In a moment, I’m going to tell you about the time my nephew and his friend came to stay with me - about a year ago now — but I ought to tell you a little bit about myself first. This story is about masturbation - and I hope you’ll be masturbating too when you read it, because that’s what it’s for - so you’ll probably want to know what I look like and so on before we begin. I know I always like to know what the people in my fantasies look like when I’m masturbating over them.
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On the day that I started to live full time as a woman, I moved into an apartment in a larger city about 20 miles away from my home town. I had gotten an inheritance the previous year and figured that I could live comfortably for a year or two while I found a job with my new identity.

There where other reasons for the move, I wanted a fresh start and the people in my old town were very small-minded to those things they didn’t understand. Most of the people there thought I was strange already and coming out in that town would of only been the start of some serious harassment. I was on hormones for about a year and it was getting harder and harder to hide their effects. I only really had one true friend, Alice, and she moved away two years before me. Alice helped me get my new apartment and stayed to oversee the movers at the old place to help make my transition easier.
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Author’s Note: This story does not stand alone. If you haven’t read part One or Two, please do now.

On Monday, I strolled into my metal fabrication company and searched out Ben, my General Manager. Ben had been with me for six years. I had hired him right of college as an accountant, but I quickly realized he had great potential. Since Ellen and I wanted to be able to spend more time together and travel, I taught Ben the ins and outs of the business and promoted him. I could leave for weeks at a time and know that my business was in good hands.
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We arrived at my room, as I insisted, he didn’t resist and rolled into the room, hardly fumbling with the lock. Our clothes were on the ground before the door closed. I tore all his clothes off and pulled him down on the bed, his dick sticking out. It now looked huge, probably a nine-incher and thick but not gross or pudgy. I knew I could fit him somewhere. He got everything of mine off except my panties, which I wouldn’t cede yet.

His fingers were down my crack gaining toward my asshole, richly moistened by my recent turd. I hadn’t wiped intentionally, though there had been little smear. There was still a very small piece of cling on my panties and his fingers found it. He was kissing my neck and rubbing my back with the other hand. He pinched the remains and brought out his hand, looking at the fingers. There was a small flat bit of my shit in between his fingers and he just licked them off, smeared his tongue around his mouth, and resumed kissing me. I gasped as one hand rubbed one of my breasts and his lips found a stiff nipple. My gut cramped for a brief moment and some anal seepage leaked out, most absorbed by my panties.
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Hi again, friends and perverts. It’s me, Alexandra, ready to relate the next chapter of my little tale of debauchery. You really should check out part 1, honest. Take ten minutes out of your day for a little sexy back story. Your orgasm will be that much better. No lie.

So this is the part where things get a little weird. And by weird, I mean that my Machiavellian little mind was slowly forming an evil plan to turn sweet Shanna completely to the dark side. Little did I know I’d be dragging at least one other delicious young coed down with us, but at the time, my only goal was to get Shann in touch with her inner slut.
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As Rhonda rushed into the airport, she knew she was running late. This last minute flight down to Pensacola would be the last one for the summer and life seemed more hectic now than it had been all year. The older kids were back in school and had to be dropped off before she headed for the airport. The younger ones were lined up with the sitter, but leaving them still hadn’t been easy. She was glad to get away for a few days, but they just seemed to keep wanting one more thing at the last minute. All of that meant a hectic start to her travel day.
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I had special plans for my wife this afternoon, so I left work early to prepare. As soon as I got to the house, I prepared the bed. I pulled the sheet and comforter to the end of the bed, and piled a couple of pillows in the middle. I got our toy box out of the closet, and selected a few of my favorites…the long, soft ropes, my smallest butt plug, our flogger, and my wife’s favorite vibrator. I also got the lube out and set everything on the bedside table.

My wife called to let me know she was on the way home from work, and I suggested that she grab a bite to eat on the way home, but to hurry, as I had a surprise for her. About a half-hour later, I heard her pull into the garage. I met her at the door, doing the usual how-was-your-day-welcome-home-kiss routine. She asked about her surprise, and I told her she’d have to wait for a few minutes.
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