How do you define a good woman? For some, it means a woman who takes care of them. One who cooks, cleans, acts like some kind of maid, as if we were still in 1950s America. For me, a good woman is someone who cares about me, one that enjoys my desires as much as I do.
Katrin is my good woman. Katrin knows what I like and exactly how to turn me on. And what I like is pantyhose. Nylons. Stockings. I like them all. I love the way they look on her legs, and it drives me crazy when she wears them for me.
When Katrin is wearing pantyhose and nothing else, I get hard instantly staring at her pussy, the lips folded back behind the sheer gauze of her nylons, the seam like a reflection of her pussy folds.
Truth is, Katrin is not a big fan of stockings, she sees them as something from a time gone by, something very old fashioned; but since she knows I love them, she indulges me. That’s why it means so much to me. And when she indulges me, she goes all the way…
I woke up one Saturday morning to see Katrin walk into the room fully dressed in a cute little cerise cocktail dress and full make up. She glanced over at me to make sure I was watching, and headed for the drawer where we keep all the nylons. Her fingers flicked through a selection of new ones before she pulled out a pack. She took off her dress to stand totally naked before me, turning around slowly to let me see her from all angles, but acting like she didn’t know I was looking at her.
I watched, mesmerised, my arousal undeniable beneath the sheets, as she breathed in the smell of a fresh pack of stockings, taking her time to open them. They were flesh toned, the kind that needed no garters. Katrin knew I was watching, so she didn’t need to look over at me, she just went on stoking my desire as she stretched one of the stockings between her hands, rubbing it over her face and between her lips, then using it to brush her pierced nipples.
Usually, it was me that went to the drawer and chose a pair, and it was me that helped her into them and me that stroked them, toyed with them, rubbed myself over them. But here she was, doing exactly what I liked to do. It was turning me on so powerfully I had to throw the sheets off me to let my cock stand up without restraint.
Katrin rolled one stocking over her arm, then took the other and crammed the foot of it right inside her pussy! I wanted to leap out of bed right then and pull it from her wet hole to wrap it around my face and cock, breathe in the heady scent of her pussy; but she looked at me quickly and shook her head, waving her finger inside the stocking at me to say no.
I lay there, breathing heavy, stroking my cock as slowly as I could, as I watched Katrin continue. She used her stocking clad hand to rub her clit, grinding her button as she leaned back against the drawer, mouth open, eyes closed. The other stocking was hanging out of her pussy, swinging gently between her thighs as she touched herself, glistening slightly where her juices had coated the material.
Then she smiled and looked at me, biting her lip. Unrolling the stocking from her arm, she stretched it between her hands and slid it between her legs, running it between her pussy lips and pulling it back and forth, coating it in her slippery cream. It was incredible.
When she came over to the bed, I thought we were at last going to fuck, that I was finally going to get my hands on those stockings, but again she waved her finger no at me. She took up a position at the end of the bed, spreading her legs wide. Her stocking-clad fingers began to pinch and pull at her clitoris, and tug on her plump lips, parting them to show how wet the stocking that was still inside her was getting as her juice soaked into it. She frigged herself harder, stuffing more of the stocking inside her slit, until she was full, and going wild, and cumming hard around it.
Now she sat up and took the stocking from her arm, sliding it onto her right leg, glistening with her pussy juices. She rubbed her damp, stockinged foot up my thigh, toes closing in on my rock-hard cock.
She watched me then from between her knees, and slowly pulled the other stocking from her pussy. Oh god, right then I would have done anything for her if she’d just wrap it around my dick and jerk me off with it; but instead she chose to roll it onto her left leg, so she was wearing both stockings, drenched in her pussy juice.
Only then did her feet touch my prick, squeezing it between them, jerking my rod between the soles. I have no shame in admitting that I came in seconds as her feet squeezed my dick, my cum flying everywhere. Katrin rubbed it over my chest and her legs with her feet, then lifted one foot to her mouth and licked it.
As I lay there, a spent force, Katrin took off her stockings and threw them at me.
“Let’s go out for breakfast,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve worked up quite an appetite…”
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