Tag: thigh highs

Thigh Highs

Funny how you have flash-backs at strange times. I was trying to recover from an incredibly hot orgasm and all I could think of was more! more!

My panties were gone, my legs were sweaty and trembling, but I was insatiable. This night was far from over that much was sure.

As I sat and contemplated my next move, my mind drifted back to my high school days. It was just after my 18th birthday and my mom had arranged for me to babysit for the couple next door. I didn’t mind at all, I actually liked Rob and Sharon. I even liked their kids. But I especially liked Rob.

Rob and Sharon were in their early thirties, well built, both worked out all the time. I must admit I used to fantasize about Rob. I dreamed of him taking me by force, holding me down, ripping my panties away and having his way with me. I often watched him do yard work, hoping he would shed his shirt just to get a glimpse of his mountainous chest.

I guess I felt such fantasy was safe because I knew it would never happen. It was just a school girl crush, but it was still enjoyable. It made me wet and horny enough to get me through many a lonely night of fingering myself into fantastic release.

This day would be no different. I was to drive over to their house after church on Sunday, watch the kids for a few hours while they went to some social thing. No big deal.

Maybe subconsciously that was the reason I dressed the way I did, I’ll never know. It was just fun to dress up when Rob was around. When I was alone in their house I would sometimes pretend he was married to me… imagining all the things I would do to that body when he got home from work… all the places his tongue would explore as he tasted every inch of my young, tanned, submissive body.

I remember, because it was the first time I ever wore thigh highs. Smooth, silky, cream-colored thigh highs with that sexy, lacy, rubbery grip top. They felt so erotic when I put them on… and the matching creamy lace thong was just perfect. Just looking at them in the mirror made me want to play with myself, but I had no time for that. Still, I felt so sexy in church I just kept crossing and uncrossing my legs so I could hear that delicious swishing sound.

I could feel the eyes of all the young guys staring at me, even the married ones. Once I even thought I caught the minister trying to get a glimpse up my dress, and that just made it worse. It only served to fan the voyeuristic fire that was burning deep within my panties.

Finally the service was over and I headed over to meet up with the kids. When I got there, Rob emerged from the bedroom in a short muscle shirt and skin-tight work-out pants. He said Sharon had been at her mother’s house for the weekend, and would be a couple of hours late.

I started to go home, but he said to hang out there and wait, no sense making another trip. His deep voice made my heart skip, he was so insistent that I stay. My fantasy began to take shape again, there we were, the perfect little married couple, home alone on Sunday afternoon.
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