Skintight Love - part 1
story by Anonymous
He was trying to chat me up all night, and since there was no other action and I was feelin’ low I didn’t mind him buying me drinks. He told me he was a Farmer and all this stuff was new to him , I only really perked up when I asked what I did and I told him that I worked at a Tights stall part-time.
‘Oh yeah? Ever test any of the products?’
‘Of course. I have a pair under my jeans right now…black sheer to waist high gloss, thirty denier, pretty polly, if I’m correct.’
The Farmer, or Joe as he introduced himself to me, opened up more and told me that he loved tights, especially beautiful boys like me who wore them. He said that he wore his wife’s and sometimes his daughters when he got the chance and masturbated in them alone in his barn. He asked me the usual questions, how long had I worn them, had I ever been with other men in them, did I wear other skintight things like them, how did it make me feel etc. I leant over and whispered the following to him,
‘I love tights! They way the feel, pulling them on over my legs and ass, and smoothing them over…ever so slow-ly. I love the way the light bounces off them, the shine over my feet, legs, and ass…mmm…I then bend over to check my ass in the mirror and make sure the seam is between my buttocks. I love the feeling of my ass, cock and balls encased in something so tights and shiny…especially something so effeminate…I feel so proud and natural. I then like to step into some high heels, short skirts, and sometimes layer my tights under or over a skintight girdle or a leotard…but perhaps the most I love a man looking at me like this, I love being with them like this, caressing each other, kissing each other, rubbing, sniffing and licking each other, sucking and fucking like this…I love the way the come looks on the seat of my shiny tights or a leotard, or sitting on a man’s face, so I can feel his nose between my encased buttocks, or his tongue flickering my shiny arsehole and cock and balls…I love riding him, riding his face, riding his cock, on top of him so I can look into his eyes and talk dirty to him…especially if his face is distorted by a stocking mask, or if he’s wearing make-up and a wig, sometime if he wants to look natural…I want you Joe, I want to do those things with you …’
I looked at him, as I sipped my Bacardi breezer through my straw with a smile playing on my lips.
‘I’m rock hard,’ he said. ‘You know Leo-‘
‘Polly.’
‘What?’
‘Call me Polly.’
‘Oh…OK, then Polly. I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve always wanted to…I never thought I’d meet anyone…’
I cut him off to kiss him passionately.
‘It’s just that my wife won’t let me shag her arse…in fact she won’t let me shag her at all.’
I looked at him. It was understandable.
‘Ooh a straight man playing with fire!’ I joked. ‘What makes you think I’m gonna let you shag my arse?’
‘Er…I don’t, I mean-‘
‘I might want to shag your arse…deep and hard.’
‘I never thought about it like that. I sometimes think about what it’ll be like, I put a stocking on my finger and push it up…and I like it…but I didn’t think someone would shag me…I mean I don’t look the type.’
‘Oh once we have some shiny tights on you…and I put a little slit in the back, you’ll look delicious to fuck trust me.’
He bought me a drink and we talked about fetishes. He told me that he had a thing about fucking a stable hand, dressed in a blue hooded rain mac that comes down to your thighs, and blue wellington boots, with nothing underneath but a pair of black tights.
‘I think about someone dressed like that sucking my cock outside in the muddy fields, then of bending them over and fucking them dressed like that, as their wellies squelch in the mud…’
It was intriguing.
‘The thing I think about when I think of farms and stuff are those skintight riding jodhpurs…I used to have a pair actually…and those tight shiny boots…And I’m squatting down to suck cock like that, with my helmet, and the jods stretched against my ass…then I’d like to wrap the legs of the tights around the guys neck, pull them tight and ride their hard crotch like they are a horse…in fact I’ve done it but it’s been a while. Have you got any jods?’
‘I haven’t, but my daughter has.’
‘I want to wear them…and the boots as well…for you…for you.’
Again we were kissing. We arranged to meet up one afternoon when his wife and daughter went out. Before we exchanged numbers I went to the loo and took my tights off. I threw them at him when I came back. ‘Here, wear them, sniff them, think of me, til we meet again.’
A few days and some emails later I was at his farm. We had emailed instructions on what we wanted to happen in the days events, I took some make up, some outfits, and some spare tights naturally. He met me at the gates to his land, after I got out of the taxi and as promised he drove me to the house and farmyard in his tractor. Once we were out of the range of the country road we paused to have a long kissing session.
‘I’ve thought about you non stop Polly.’
‘And I’ve thought about your fat cock in shiny tights.’
After a drink at his place he gave me the rain coat and wellies. I was already wearing tights with no panties. And I put them on. It was a miserable day outside anyway. He took me to the cows and showed me how to milk it manually. After I while I was sat on the stool milking away, staring at him seductively and licking my lips. As planned he left me for a few minutes and came back.
‘Er Polly, if you’ve a few minutes there’s something else that needs milking outside.’
‘Coming, Farmer Joe,’ I said obediently.
I followed him out into the farmyard, over a gate and in a muddy field by an old wooden gate.
‘There’s nothing here to milk, Farmer Joe,’ I said innocently, looking into the empty field.
‘Yes there is, my girl. Take off my breeches girl.’
‘Oh but whatever will Mrs Farmer Joe say?’
‘Mrs Farmer Joe is a busy woman, she won’t mind, now take off these breeches, and don’t ask stupid questions.’
I undid his strap, rolled his breeches to his big muddy boots and saw, glistening in the sheen, a big thick erect cock waiting for me.
‘Now you know what to do girl.’
‘Yes, Farmer Joe.’
Without hesitation I placed my milking stool on the ground, sat down and milked his prick in my hand through his tights. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, letting off little grunts here and there. I milked his thick prick vigorously.
‘Farmer Joe?’ I asked.
‘What, just get on with it?’
‘Why are you wearing tights?’
‘What?’
‘Tights. Men don’t wear tights.’
‘Be quiet and milk me bitch!’
‘I was only asking why you’re wearing tights…’
My own cock was straining as I threw myself into my new role.
‘Are they your wife’s tights?’
‘What? Don’t be silly!’
‘Are they your daughter’s?’
‘Just shut up and keep on milking me!’
I gasped as I realized something.
‘No, they couldn’t be…are they my tights…they are…you’re wearing MY TIGHTS.’
‘Keep your voice down.’
‘I’m just saying. You don’t normally wear tights when I milk you. And they’re mine…I can never forget a pair of my tights. They’re the ones that I lost when I slept over with Gemma…I thought she had them…but-‘
‘Fuck, yeah, oh god! Polly milk it with you mouth, milk it with your mouth…’
My lipstick mouth was now wrapped around his encased prick sucking him deeply, as I gazed up at him like an innocent little girl. I tugged at his pantyhosed crotch a little and grinned. He grinned back.
‘Am I doing a good job, Farmer Joe?’
‘Oh yeah girl, you’re doing well…’
‘So you’ll teach me how to ride like you said?’
‘I’m thinking about it.’
‘PLEASE!’
‘Ok! But you’ll need some jodhpurs and some boots…’
‘I can wear Gemma’s!’
‘Yeah, maybe. But they’ll be a bit tight.’
‘I don’t mind, honestly…I want to wear them…I’ll be a good rider.’
‘You’re a good milker…’
‘I like milking for you…you’re always good to me afterwards…’
‘You’re the best…better than my wife…’
I sucked him harder and harder, I thought he was going to spray my face when he asked me to turn over and make a hole in the seat of my tights.
‘Why?’
‘I want you to milk me with your arsehole…’
I hitched up my coat. He helped me make a hole in my tights where he eased his fat cock up me, then he shagged me, as hard as possible like he always wanted to.
‘Oh Polly, you’re the best you slut, you’re the best…Tell me those things you know I like to hear, girl.’
While he slammed his prick into me I cried,
‘Farmer Joe! Farmer Joe! You’re the boss, you’re the boss! I love milking you…Ooh, you’re so good to me! I’ll do anything for you!’
‘Your tights feel good, tell me that I can wear your tights anytime I want.’
‘Yeah, yeah anytime you want!’
‘Tell me that I look good in them!’
‘You look so good in my tights…please wear them, please, all the time, I like milking you in my tights, and in your tights!’ That was when his come sprayed into my ass, and over my tights, dripping down my legs and into my wellies. For the next half hour, my wellies weren’t squelching because of the mud but because of the spunk inside them, underneath my hosed feet. Mm, I liked that.
by leotardlust@hotmail.com
Story posted by Anonymous
on Thursday, December 09, 2004 @ 16:43:34 PST
|
|
