Fetish - lingerie, pantyhose, stockings

Samantha laughed at her mother as she helped take down the Christmas tree.

“You know it’s almost Groundhog Day, Mom. I don’t believe you thought we should leave this up until Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s just January 19. It’s not like it’s Lent. We’re barely out of the Twelve Days of Christmas, darling,” her mother responded.

But her mother didn’t say much, just pulling down the ornaments and pulling the fake aluminum branches from the fake wood trunk. Her mother — a communications professor at a university — had just received a letter from the AARP. Samantha had heard of it — it had something to do with old people. Apparently, AARP thought that her mother qualified — being that she was about to turn 40.
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This is another installment of the Ron Webber series. It picks up after “Double Elimination” and continues with the characters and circumstances of DE. I wrote this as a much requested continuation.

Chapter One

I’m Ron Webber, nice to meet you. I guess you could call me an “accidental story teller”. My life has been anything but….self directed. At one time a while back I used to work. Had an employment agency in Ohio, which actually did quite well. I had to sell it however, and as many of you can relate to, divorces can adversely affect your lives. The results of which left me….well….accidentally well off financially. And single by choice. I never pictured myself as being “sexy”. Far from it. Oh I keep myself in shape all right. I golf, hunt, fish and play a lot of pool. I watch what I eat, and I pretty much gave up hard liquor in my 40’s. I still smoke. Being stuck with a smoking fetish, I guess I just learned to live with that. I enjoy cooking too. I like a neat house, and since I lost my black lab, I prefer to live by myself. I’ve dated some over the years. I love women. Women smokers especially. I imagine myself settling down someday with a lovely woman my age, perhaps a pound or two over normal and a good cook. Kind of heart, warm and cuddly, and just maybe a good pool shooter. But my life, I keep telling myself, is not self directed. So now I’ll relate the story of how I came to be romantically involved with a 26 year old absolutely gorgeous stripper named Karen.
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With both of us home from work, we spent our morning hibernating like bears, and making out like bunnies on Friday night.

While we were running errands earlier in the evening, we drove over to our favorite toy store and purchased a new toy. It is a rabbit vibrator with a pair of flexible ears that wiggle when the vibrator is on. This toy is great because it is mini and waterproof.
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November 3rd…another birthday. Shit; I turn 53 years old and it is the same old same old. Cards and underwear from my parents and happy birthday phone calls from my brothers and sisters. Just once I wish a birthday could be a little different. Oh well, at least it was Saturday, so I could grab a few extra hours of sleep.

Just as I was dozing off again, the phone rang.

“Hello..”

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday to you…” came the off tune rendition of my best buddy Dave’s greeting.
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Kay sat in her apartment thumbing through her large leather bound book searching for Mark’s address.

“Ahh, here it is,” she muttered to herself as her long sinewy finger traced the ink on the page, she pinched her breast feeling the small nub harden. Her clit twitched as she thought of visiting him tonight. A raw and primitive urge made her quiver as she thought of the sweet tenderness of his kiss. Closing the book and placing it back beside the monitor she snapped her fingers and gathered a white satin lacey nightgown and placed it on her computer desk so she would be able to quickly summon it once she got to Mark’s apartment. Her thoughts were racing, the strange surge of affection she felt for Mark frightened her, what had happened to the levelheaded young woman of yesterday? Had she somewhere gained a conscious?
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Just a little background, I work for a small township, whereas, I took on a position of a machine operator after many years working within the medical profession. I find this job more rewarding, because at the end of the day, I can see the product of my work as well as the effect it has had upon my body, and the added stamina, which my wife has really begun to enjoy.

This one July morning, my partner and myself (there are only the two of us), arrived at work and had a message on our answering machine after a pounding rain storm. The message was from one of those people who like to complain about any little thing that may happen, but she is a tax payer so we had to go check it out. We pulled up to this bi-level house which sets on a hill and began to investigate the situation the lady of the house, Karen, came out in a rage telling us how, we could not do anything right and that it was our fault that her drain had blocked up. The way the morning sun was shining, I could see thru her near transparent night shirt that was 3 sizes to tight and see her large breasts and that her nipples were so hard, they were almost coming right through the material. She stood all of 5′2″ and probably approximately 200 lbs., but something deep inside made me want to see more. It took a few minutes, but my associate told her, that we would be momentarily to aide her with her situation. We got back into the truck and he started to go on about what a what a bitch she was and I told him about the hard on, that her tits had caused me, which made him laugh and ridicule me.
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(for jwm)

He opened his bag and started to unpack. He hadn’t been away long so there wasn’t much. Before long he was at the bottom, only the small bits and pieces remained, then his fingertips brushed against satin. He smiled as he remembered the last time they had felt it. It was only last night, in the car before they had parted. He didn’t take it out of the bag straight away, blindly savouring the feel of the satin. He closed his eyes and smiled, in his mind his fingers found that damp material between her legs and brushed lightly over it. He could hear her moan with pleasure as she had when his fingers had rubbed over that satin and his lips had tasted hers.
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It all started with what became a pet peeve: my wife was always wearing my underwear.

I did not mind at first, I thought it was cute.

I wear silk boxers and had to admit she did look good in them. They are, however, very expensive so I did not have many of them.

She had a drawer full of very nice panties. They were in lots of colors, soft as silk, mostly thongs and high cut styles. She looked very sexy in any of them, but she still wanted to wear my boxers at home.
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This is a totally true story of how time away from my wife overseas heightened my quest for sexual satisfaction and self gratification. I am a 28 year old male. About 6ft tall with a stocky build, short black hair and bright blue eyes.

After reading some stories on Lit and thinking about my hot wife waiting for me and the things we would do on my return, I was feeling just a little horney. However, both my wife and myself had told each other that we would not play with ourselves so that we would be wild with passion after 3 weeks. One week in and I was feeling too hot for this deal. In my mind the rules had already changed to “no cumming”.
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Ellen Morrison sat thoughtfully, as was her custom, as the vicar concluded his sermon. Beside her was her husband of thirty three years, Alistair. They stood for the singing of the concluding hymn, as Ellen smoothed her dress and smiled at the younger woman standing beside her.

After the benediction had been pronounced, she spoke to her neighbour in a friendly voice, inquiring, “Will we be seeing you at the Guild meeting on Tuesday, Ann?” “Let us hope so,” the younger woman responded, “though I shall be working late that day. I may not be able to be on time!”
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