One night, my husband, Mark, and I went to an adult bookstore to pick up a few magazines. Just looking at them was a turn-on for us both, and I learned that he has a real thing for pantyhose, which I've never worn. When we looked at pictures of girls in stockings I saw Mark's eyes get bigger, and he admitted that the thought of licking my pussy through nylon hose excited him. I could also see the appeal, so I decided to make it happen. I went shopping the next day and bought the sheerest black pantyhose I could find. The next morning, I put them on under a skirt without panties, marveling at how silky they felt as I peeled them up my legs. My lack of panties meant that I felt the nylon against my flesh all day, and that got me really wet, as did knowing that my juices were soaking right through the flimsy material. I got so aroused knowing that the sheer fabric would be redolent with my musky scent, and I wondered what Mark would think when he got between my thighs. Would he be as turned on as I was? The answer was "yes." His eyes grew wide when he saw my nylon-encased legs, and he just stared as I walked into the living room, sat down opposite him and crossed them so my skirt rode up. "Come over here," I said. "On your knees." When Mark had complied, I slowly uncrossed my legs and opened them wide. He moaned as I pressed my nylon-encased toes to his nose, then grabbed my foot. He began licking my toes, his stubble prickling my sensitive flesh and rasping against the delicate mesh of my stocking. Then, breathing in deeply through his nose, he brushed his lips across my toes before taking them in his mouth and sucking. "Your feet are so beautiful," he told me when he finally stopped. "Worship them," I commanded. "Show me how beautiful you think they are by licking every inch." When I pushed my other foot into his face he switched to that one, licking and sucking until the nylon was slick and shiny. - JOIN NOW FOR MORE LETTERS LIKE THIS! -

SOLITARY CONFINEMENT -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When we're in the mood to play, my wife, Terry, uses the slightest excuse to become Mistress Theresa, her dominant alter ego. For my part, I must admit that I'll transgress from time to time just to warrant one of her punishments, especially since I know it will usually include some form of bondage. Sometimes I'll forget to pass on a message from one of her friends, or leave my dirty clothes lying around, or neglect to mow the lawn. That's why when I spilled my wine on the floor one night, shivers of excitement ran up and down my spine. It was Friday, the end of a long week's work for us both. Terry had rented an Adam Sandler-Drew Barrymore movie, hoping that a few laughs would help us to wind down in readiness for the weekend ahead. As for me, I'd stopped on the way back from the office to buy a bottle of our favorite red wine. It went really well with the pasta that she'd cooked for dinner. Maybe that's why I had one drink too many, which caused my glass to slip. Though it somehow didn't break when it hit the hardwood floor, the red liquid spread everywhere, like blood leaking from a bullet wound. Quickly, I rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a huge wad of paper towels, part of me hoping that my wife wouldn't find out, and part of me hoping that she would. Regardless of what I actually wanted, I was too late. Silence had descended upon the house; she had switched off the TV. Then I was summoned back into the living room with a single word: Slave. The hairs on my arms and legs stood on end as I meekly wandered back. Already Terry looked different, and when I glanced down at her feet I realized why. She had put on her five-inch stiletto heels, which made her tower above me by at least four inches. Pointing at the crimson puddle, Theresa beckoned me forward. "Lick it clean, slave," she said. So I moved toward her and got down on my hands and knees. Then I removed my shirt when she told me to. Finally, I leaned down and began lapping the red wine off the floor. The intoxicating liquor had no effect upon my senses, because I was already feeling blissfully heady from my wife's exquisite show of power. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - JOIN NOW FOR MORE STORIES LIKE THIS! -

BELLHOP TAKES CARE OF MORE THAN LUGGAGE FOR A COUPLE OF VERY ATTRACTIVE GUESTS -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A few years ago, I worked as a bellhop in a Miami resort. One day toward the end of my shift, the bell captain told me to get up to one of the luxury rooms without delay. He then smiled and gave me a knowing wink. I was still puzzling over that as I rapped at the guest's door. A feminine voice told me to come in. Entering, I found two hot women, one blonde and the other brunette. They were both about twenty-five and wearing only bras and panties. The blonde looked me up and down. "You're Chuck?" she asked. "Yes, ma'am," I replied. "I'm Leslie," she said, "and this is Dana." I nodded, still puzzled, as she continued. "I noticed you when we were checking in, and I liked what I saw. Do you know what a threesome is?" What guy doesn't? I thought to myself as I nodded, my cock already getting hard. Leslie went on to explain that this would be Dana's first time, so we might have to take things a little slowly. Then, totally belying her recent statement, she suddenly whipped off her bra and flung it onto the bed, obviously ready to get down to serious action. Her tits were full and luscious, and I hungered for them immediately. I wanted to kiss and caress them and suck on her pink nipples. Then her deep blue eyes settled on my crotch. She couldn't help but see that my cock was growing to monstrous proportions inside my pants. Coming forward, she put her hand on the throbbing bulge, gave it a squeeze and then started to remove my uniform in a slow and provocative way. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - JOIN NOW FOR MORE LETTERS LIKE THIS! -

HELPING HAND -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Most people find moving to be extremely stressful, but I didn't give it much thought. Put stuff in cardboard boxes. Carry the boxes to a rental truck. Drive to the new place, then do the whole thing in reverse. Time-consuming? Yes. Stressful? No. At least, not until my extremely handsome, soon-to-be-ex-neighbor, Nick, offered to help, sending me into an instant quandary. "Let me give you a hand," he urged over the phone. Now I had stress. I mean, honestly, what was I supposed to do with all of my sex toys? Don't get me wrong. I'm not the queen of kink. But I do like to engage in certain non-vanilla endeavors when I've got a willing participant, such as playing with a variety of frisky toys, dressing in costume and dabbling in the erotic art of spanking. Especially, spanking. To put it plainly, I am a girl who truly desires a crimson-blushed, stinging-hot bottom. Getting a spanking makes me wet like nothing else can. I love the trembly wave of anticipation in the seconds beforehand, the nerve-tingling feeling of bending over a man's lap and the moment of truth when the hand, hairbrush or paddle finally meets my naked bottom. Simply saying the word "spanking" is enough to make my pussy spasm. Hearing an attractive lover say that word makes me practically come. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - JOIN NOW FOR MORE STORIES LIKE THIS! -

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