Three Course Meal (A night out in pantyhose)
Chapter 1. A Night Out
Sitting on the edge of my bed performing the final ritual preparations for a night out, I glided my pantyhose upward over the smooth skin of my legs. And as I felt that first sensation I began to look forward to the evening that lay ahead.
Pete had specifically asked that I wore these particular items of clothing because, he said that, not only did I look stunning in them they also turned him on. The shiny sheen pantyhose were soon to be accompanied by my knee-high black leather stiletto boots, and as I stood and looked in the full-length mirror I had to agree with him. The mini-skirt certainly did justice to my thighs and the silky, see-through pink top with red bra enhanced my shoulder-length curly red hair.
Sexy? Yes! A tart? "Don't answer that!" I told myself. But I would definitely not walk the streets alone.
Pete was one of the best lovers I'd ever had; there was something different in the way he did it - he was sensitive to a woman's needs and took satisfaction in giving me satisfaction. All the other guys I had known were intent on self-gratification and I had learned to satisfy myself within their short time span. With Pete however it was different, more like being made love to by another woman, more sensuous and longer lasting. Not that he was effeminate in any way, far from it! He was well endowed and as soon as he knew that I was sexually sated he would give me one hell of a fuck.
I think that he simply worshipped my body and that gave me a kick, the thought that he was under my control turned me on. "I will make him worship me tonight," remembering that he had made me promise to do him a sexual favour, the nature of which he would not reveal. I was about to find out.
I donned and tied the waistband of my full-length white ribbed cardigan that covered my body down to my knees and doubled as a coat.
"Now I can walk past my parents without the usual comments," I concluded with a devilish grin on my face. I grabbed my handbag as I heard the horn of the taxicab outside and carefully sprinted downstairs.
"Don't forget I'm staying over tonight," I reminded them.
I did not stay to hear the response as I leapt through the front door and jumped into the back of the cab. What is it about parents? Even at the age of twenty-two they would sometimes treat me as a fifteen year old, despite having lived in my own apartment for two years.
Having split up from my previous boyfriend I had moved back home but was desperately re-seeking my freedom, maybe Pete was the answer to my prayers. I longed for the opportunistic sex that is freely available when you live with someone; instead I had to make do with a Saturday night stopover.
I looked at the positive side. We always made up for lost time and I was feeling extremely horny tonight, that combined with the thought of something different and unknown on the sexual agenda made me spasmodically squeeze my thighs together tightly – a little secret of mine that helps me to ride my sexual thoughts.
As I entered the Italian restaurant Pete waved to me from the bar area and I quickly joined him as he rose to give me a greeting kiss on the lips. I removed my cardigan and sat opposite him on a low cushioned leather chair and crossed my legs.
I was not surprised that he was unable to look me in the eyes, the glass-top coffee table between us obviously did not impair his vision and he did not even notice the waiter who was standing beside us with two menus and ready to take the drinks order.
"You look stunning," complemented Pete as soon as the waiter had disappeared. He eyed me up and down.
I blushed slightly but said nothing.
"You are wearing what I asked. Thanks, I love that outfit. I could sit and look at you all night!"
I jokingly responded, "Well, I'm more of an action girl myself."
He laughed before asking the question I knew he so desperately wanted to hear the answer to, "Did you do as I asked?"
"You mean, am I wearing anything beneath my pantyhose?"
I watched him intently as I uncrossed my legs holding them wide and long enough for him to see before crossing them again in the other direction.
The low level chair would certainly have allowed him a clear view, as my knees were higher than my seated buttocks. How much he did see I cannot be certain, but judging by the expression on his face it must have been everything.
I winked at him as the waiter brought our drinks, "Does that answer your question?" I asked him.
Chapter 2. The First Course
The waiter led us to the dining area and directed us to a round table for four that had been set for two and positioned in the centre of the room. I would have preferred something more intimate, but Pete looked pleased and said it would be fine. The long tablecloth that d****d virtually to the floor reminded more of a banqueting table.
The waiter dutifully pulled out a chair for me to sit on and as I pulled it forwards I had to lift the material in order to get my knees under. "This is going to spoil his view," I thought regretfully.
I then watched with some amusement as Pete rejected the chair directly opposite me, insisting to the waiter that he sat on my left. If the waiter was annoyed at having to move the place settings he did not show it. But we were now able to chat more intimately than in the bar area. And as we tucked into the first course the discussion directed itself towards my attire.
"I adore your legs," confessed Pete, "and when covered with pantyhose I could eat them!"
I wasn't too surprised by his comment for they certainly did enhance the beauty of a girl's legs. I would often look at another woman and wonder how the colour, the sheen or the pattern would look upon me. But that was different from a sexual desire. "I only wear them to keep my legs warm," I said.
"Then why do you not wear woolly socks then?" he probed.
I had to laugh; I needed to tell him the truth. "Because they make my legs look more tanned than they are, call it vanity... no, call it a cheat!"
"There is more to it than that," he said, "something about the look and the feel."
And as he said the word 'feel' I felt his hand. It passed over the top of my left leg and began to stroke my inner thigh.
I quickly clamped my thighs together and looked around the room in a state of panic to see if anyone was watching, but then I remembered about the tablecloth. I relaxed and opened to allow him access. There was something erotic about the dare devilish act we were discretely performing in public.
His hand delicately and sensuously glided over the fine denier, moving slowly upwards towards my inner sanctum. I felt his fingers run along the crotch. I sank lower in my chair and raised my left leg to rest across his thighs under the table. He now had full access and he used it.
The abrasive ridges of the nylon/lycra material covering my flower became smooth as the lubrication oozed out from within me. I didn't want him to stop, I was primed now and I wanted him to take me to my limit. There was no way he could enter me so he concentrated on the one area, stroking the nectar upward towards my bud and rubbing it in.
I watched him looking around the restaurant and I surmised that he was being cautious; how wrong I was. Suddenly he began to slide off his chair and did a limbo dance under the tablecloth. The next thing I knew his hand had been replaced by his mouth and tongue as he knelt between my legs and began to eat me. I closed my eyes and revelled in the sensations.
"Have you finished Madam?" I heard the voice of the waiter.
I opened my eyes and tried to focus on him. "I need about two more minutes," I replied, and closed my eyes again.
"Is everything alright?" he asked, concerned that the food was perhaps not up to standard.
"Oh Yes! Delicious!" I assured him. He went away again totally oblivious to the real meaning of my words.
Pete began to use his teeth and I gripped the table as I felt the spasms stirring within me. And when I came I instinctively let out a squeal, trying to muffle the cry so as not to attract attention. I quickly glanced around the room to see if anyone had been watching our covert activities. We appeared to have escaped detection.
"Is it all clear?" I heard the whisper from under the table. He re-emerged and sat down. "That first course was the best I've ever tasted," he commented to the waiter as he removed our plates.
"Thank you sir, it is one of our specialities," he informed us.
"You bet!" I thought to myself with a wry grin on my face. I placed my hand between my thighs and felt the wetness that I knew would soon become uncomfortable. I apologised to Pete, telling him that I needed to go to the restroom and remove my pantyhose.
"That's OK," he replied jokingly, "Make sure you bring them back and I'll have them for my main course."
I gave him a playful squeeze in his groin and couldn't help but notice that he was rock solid. "I may have other plans," I said teasingly as I walked away.
Chapter 3. The Main Course
I returned from the restroom and sat down again, still feeling a little flushed but much refreshed. I was now ready and waiting for the opportunity to perform the devilish deed that I had concocted whilst absent from the table.
"Hey, you're still wearing your pantyhose," Pete commented.
"They come in packs of three, silly! I have spares in my handbag" I assured him. I saw his eyes light up.
"Wow! It's a three course meal," he laughed, "I can't wait for the dessert."
We were still laughing when the waiter brought our main courses to the table and, though I had not considered it at the time when I place my order, the rich creamy sauce with the Tagliatelle somehow seemed appropriate. We ate, drank and chatted and the wine started to have its effect upon me, giving me that little bit of extra courage that I needed.
"You had one hell of a hard on earlier!" I told him, "It must have been quite painful?"
"Not painful no, but certainly uncomfortable," he replied, "I was sort of hoping that you might have been able to relieve the pressure."
I looked at him, pretending to be shocked by his suggestion and tested him by responding with the ubiquitous question "What kind of girl do you think I am?" He passed the test. The words of love and praise were all I was seeking. I reached out beneath the table and began to fondle and squeeze the manhood lodging in his pants.
"Get it out!" I whispered assertively as I felt it triple in size.
He needed no further incentive. His hands quickly disappeared beneath the tablecloth and I watched him with some amusement as his body wriggled while, I assumed, he hitched his pants down lower. I reached out my left hand and felt again. A warm sensation passed through me as I gripped his huge rod in my hand and squeezed it.
Deliberately wedging it against the underside of the table I reached down into my handbag and took out the used pair of pantyhose from earlier and handed them to him.
"Slide your cock inside these," I demanded.
I heard him whimpering with pleasure as the fine denier slid over his glans before he eventually said, "OK, I'm ready."
I reached out once more, took hold firmly and began to stroke, grating the material around his shaft. I then placed my thumb on his glans and began to rub in a circular motion. He groaned with pleasure as he slid further down on his chair. I looked in his eyes and could see that he had lost all focus as he passed into an almost trance-like state.
The nylon material became wet and a little sticky as I spread the warm pre-cum over the end of his shaft and worked it in. And then I heard him emitting a muffled growl as I felt the hot liquid seeping through. He came. He lurched forwards and collapsed with his head in his arms on the tabletop.
"Are you alright sir?" I heard the voice of the waiter who had seemingly appeared again from nowhere.
"It's OK, he's on medication," I reassured him, "I've just administered a dose and he'll be perfectly fine again in a little while."
"Can I get him anything?" he asked with some concern.
"Perhaps some water... with plenty of ice, that should cool him down," I suggested.
As the waiter walked away Pete slowly returned to planet earth and cupped his hands under the table. "What am I supposed to do with your pantyhose now?" he queried.
And for the first time that night all eyes were focused upon our table as I emitted a yelp of laughter. "That my dear is now your problem, not mine."
"But, can't you put them in your handbag?" he pleaded.
There was no way I would have them back, so I decided that embarrassment was the best solution. "Me and my handbag are going to the restroom, exactly how high do you want me to lift up the tablecloth to retrieve it?"
He got the message. He looked at me and yielded, "You would wouldn't you?" I nodded.
"OK! You win," he agreed in submission, "I'll keep these as a memento, and there is another leg to go at."
I was at first taken aback by what he was saying; he was to use an item of my clothing for self-gratification. But after the first initial shock I decided that it was actually a compliment and that whenever he was to perform this act he could only be thinking of me. The feeling of power over him returned with a vengeance.
"This three course meal with my pantyhose you mentioned, shall we go back to your place for desserts?" I suggested with some eagerness.
He didn't need to be persuaded. We finished off the wine (and the iced water), asked the waiter for the bill and called a cab. I suggested that he left a good tip for the waiter as I popped back to the restroom to wash my hands.
By the time I re-emerged I could see that he was outside in the street waving to me through the restaurant window and pointing at the parked taxicab. I headed towards the door but was suddenly waylaid by the voice of our waiter.
I turned and looked at him inquisitively, "Yes?" I asked.
"Your boyfriend gave me this very generous tip," he said, "I want you to have it."
I was stunned and asked him why.
"Because you have given me the best erotic entertainment of my life."
"SHIT!" I thought to myself as I ran out of the restaurant.
Chapter 4. The Dessert
By the time we got back to Pete's apartment I was still concerned. He sensed my mood.
"We were found out, OK? But don't let it worry you, there are plenty more restaurants to go at in this town." He took my hands in his and looked into my eyes and whispered, "It's OK, I want you to know that I Love You."
Anger with myself pervaded my thoughts. "Hey! That ain't going to make it any better you know, I feel like a slut."
His mood changed, "Oh, so you feel like a slut do you?"
"Yes I do," I replied, "I honestly believed that we had got away with it."
"But you enjoyed it, didn't you?"
He was right, I had enjoyed it. Secret sex in public. Never had I done that before and I doubt very much I would again, but we had both been aroused by it.
He persisted. "I'm still aroused and I want to carry this further. Will you trust me? I want to satisfy you beyond your wildest imaginations." He watched me with some intensity as he awaited my response.
I did trust him that much was true, and I already felt like a slut. What had I to lose? "Take me," was all I said.
Before laying me on the bed he reached into his pocket and extracted the pair of pantyhose that was covered in both of our cum. I could smell the stale stench as he gripped my wrists and tied them around, locking them in a knot from which I could not escape. I felt myself becoming aroused by the entrapment. Despite the salty smell, the aura of sex was all pervading, erotic and stimulating.
As soon as I was on the bed he hitched up my skirt and spread my legs wide, my knees were pushed upwards towards my breasts. I lay there pinned to the bed and exposing everything. I could see the lust in his eyes as he looked at my flower veiled behind the silky material. It was my only protection. And without hesitation his head dived down, his mouth started to suck hard, his jaws opening and closing as he created a vacuum. I arched my back as the sensations shot through my body.
Suddenly he paused and looked at me.
"I need access," he demanded as he began to pull at the material, tearing and ripping it apart.
I watched as my defensive shield was torn asunder. And I became even more aroused by the submissive position I was in. With eyes closed I felt his mouth sucking again, yet this time it was true skin-to-skin contact.
I now needed to feel his cock deep inside of me. "Fuck Me!" I pleaded.
He looked up at me and smiled. "Not yet," he replied, "there is something else you must experience first before we reach heaven together."
I locked both my legs upon my shoulders with my arms and with anticipation I watched him reach into my handbag that I had placed on the bedside cabinet. He removed the third pair of pantyhose and I did not anticipate his next move.
He separated one leg of the pantyhose and stretched it, then placed it upon my flower and began to stroke slowly up and down. Each tiny ridge of the material rubbed over my delicate button, gently teasing her out of the sheath.
As it glided down it absorbed the juices that were leaking from me, then returning back it massaged those juices onto her. I was in heaven, a total unashamed self-heaven and I wanted Pete so badly now, I needed penetration. I begged again, "FUCK ME! Please."
"Oh Yes!" he replied as he quickly removed the pantyhose leg from me and tore it away from the crotch. He pushed it down over his now throbbing erection. Then he entered me.
My head bent backward onto the pillow as the silky material that had been stroking me from outside was now stroking me from within. My over-aroused clit was now feeling from a different direction, and it was pure ecstasy.
I was now wishing that I had not relieved him earlier for now he had more stamina and he was now lasting much longer. I rode it; I rode the storm waiting to be unleashed. And when he came I released also. Never before had I held back for so long and when I came it was so intense. I screamed and flinched, I writhed in the sheer beauty of it. I held his buttocks tightly, keeping him inside me as I rode out the storm.
Slowly and gradually I returned back to planet earth. "You are some guy," I informed him.
And then we slept. The wine and the exertion had taken its toll. But as I drifted off into slumber I started to wonder how different venier and material combination may work, how maybe a raised pattern may affect the way things felt.
I fell asl**p...thinking about...fishnets.