Tonight I wanted him so bad I could taste it. He was an admirer of stockings but I wouldn’t call him a fetishist. Each time I shut my eyes images filled my mind. Me clawing at his back, biting at his shoulder, my arms wrapped around him tightly with him on top of me. My legs encased in Cuban heeled stockings wrapped around his waist.
I lay on the bed in nothing except these stockings, my black garter belt, and my cream colored sheets. I had lit several candles around my room and opened a window to let the crisp evening air in. My tongue moved over my lips. My fingers brushing over the top of my chest. Gliding my nails across my skin. Teasing my flesh with my fingertips. I snapped the straps of my garters. One hand feeling the metal clasps where they met my stockings and the other hand moving over my body.
He came in. I had told him to come straight to bed that I would probably be going to bed early. I told him this so he wouldn’t be expecting me to be in the mood I was in. I wanted my hunger for him to be a surprise.
He came in I looked up at him standing there in the doorway. I told him to strip. No sense in coming to bed in dirty clothes. I watched closely as he unbuttoned his shirt. Longing to kiss and tug on the metal of his nipple rings as he took his shirt off and let it fall to the floor. Watching even closer as he undid his jeans and unzipped them. No underwear underneath, nice. He crawled onto the bed his long black hair falling around his face I motioned with my finger for him to come to the head of the bed. I had him lie on his back with his arms spread out. I took them and tied them to the bedposts with some soft black bondage rope. Nothing intricate just enough to keep his hands away.
I pulled back the down comforter and the sheets. Then I crawled between his feet, propping myself up on my elbows. I took my feet and ran the silky nylon across his chest, over his stomach. Dragging my wiggling toes over his inner thighs. I took them up high to run them over his face, his neck and over his hair. Then I slid them back down to his inner thighs, brushing them inches away from his crotch. I lifted his balls up with the toes of my right foot. Gently running my feet over them. I wrapped my feet around his cock. The contrast of the black reinforced heels against his pale flesh looked so good to me.
I put the bottoms of my feet together; there was an opening from the arches of my feet. I slid it over his cock. I slid my feet back and forth over it. It was the silkiest of foot jobs.
I heard the bedposts shake; he was pulling at his ropes. I told him to lift his hips so that he could fuck my arches. I lay flat on my back, pinching my nipples and rubbing them as he did what I asked. I looked between my spread legs and watched as he moved his hips to slide his cock in and out from between my feet.
Finally I untied him. I had him lick every inch of my stockings from the tips of my toes to the welt. The feeling of his wet tongue pushing against the nylons as he licked had me tingling. Once every inch had been licked and loved, I had to have him. So then I satisfied my other hunger.
It seems even when I meet vanilla, regular type men that I always get them into at least one of my kinks. I know a lot of vanilla guys find stockings sexy but I don’t know many who would consider licking them and having them rubbed across their skin as foreplay either. Or maybe they do and I just don’t know it. This vanilla guy of mine though is getting kinkier by the day. I think that is a very very good thing.
