Impossible DreamsChapter 3
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An IMpossible Dream free porn video
A complete work of fiction with no reality except the yearning for a time long past.
We met quite by accident. I was taking a lunch break at a little old fashioned diner near work. It was one of those long narrow diners with a counter and a row of booths that were suited for two people. As I moved through the crowd weaving in and out of those leaving after their lunch I stopped as a woman cut in front of me and my hand bumped her butt. Yes, it was by accident but what happened after that was no accident, I think of it as fate casting two lost souls together.
“Oh excuse me,” she said smiling up at me.
“No problem,” I said smiling back. In my mind was another thought besides no problem. I knew she was wearing a girdle. “How?” you ask. Well it comes from back in the late 1960’s when I was in high school and had discovered that I had this particular fetish for the garment. And I learned that a woman wearing a girdle had this hard feeling caused by the girdle stretching across her ass.
The bump of the back of my hand across what should have been a soft supple bit of flesh had told me a story I had long since forgotten about. And as she took a couple steps ahead of me I could plainly see she was flat all across the back in her straight skirt that would have displayed two wonderful orbs of flesh that we all love seeing in today’s liberated world.
“Was this going to be your booth?” she asked as she turned to face me. Her knit skirt fit her beautifully but perhaps she didn’t know that I could plainly see the bumps of her garters midway up her thigh, and at that moment I knew it was a long leg panty girdle. The bumps, although evident to the trained eye, and I considered mine to be well trained, knew that they were covered with the leg of the girdle. The standard girdle could not hide any of the profile of that lumpy device that had been one of my points of fascination. Nope, it was a long leg panty girdle and was no doubt a vintage style to boot.
“It is noisy in here,” she said, “Was this going to be your booth?” Her voice broke the spell of my twisted fetishistic mind and I found myself standing a few feet in front of a 30 something woman that made me feel like a high school student again. Tongue tied and AROUSED.
“Yes it was, but we could share unless you were expecting someone else,” I offered with a smile that I hoped was filled with the lust that I felt at this moment.
“Well thank you,” she said extending her hand, “my name is Greta.”
“Larry,” I said, “It is nice to meet you. Do you work around here? I am on my lunch break from the accounting firm down the street.”
“You’re k**ding,” she said, “which floor?”
“I am on the fourth floor,” I said, “nowhere near the top of that corporate ladder,” I finished with a smile and then thought, “what if she is one of the executives, YIKES!”
“Same here,” she said opening the menu, “I just started last year and have made it all the way to the third floor, guess you’re on top of me,” she said with a smile that told me she was trying to be cute and not sexually suggestive. “This is my first time here, what’s good?”
“I come here for the burgers, they really do a good job on them. But they also have a really good fish and chips basket.” I said looking up at the menu board above the counter, “But I guess everything I mentioned might be a little heavy if you are trying to watch your girlish figure.” The moment the words came out of my mouth I regretted it, in today’s politically correct world that would be considered a sexist comment. I looked at her face waiting for the look of scorn but it didn’t come.
She leaned across the table, “that is what a girdle is for, to hold it all together and allow me to eat what I choose. I am going to have the bacon burger, you just can’t go wrong with bacon,” she said with a smile. “But I will wash it down with a diet soda, gotta do something healthy.”
Greta looked through the menu as we waited for the waitress to come take the order. She was wearing a white silk blouse that was just sheer enough to see the outline of her bra that appeared to be a front close style but there wasn’t anything else distinguishable so I assumed it was not lace. My educated eye told me she must be a B cup and based on her height of about 5 foot 6 inches her breasts were perfectly suited to her overall body size.
I had noticed a very trim waistline in her thin knit skirt and attributed that to a well fitted panty girdle that must have ended right at her natural waistline. Setting in the booth opposite of me I couldn’t detect any “muffin top” bulge that told me that although she was wearing a girdle she really didn’t need it to control much.
My mind drifted back to my senior year in high school. Every girl regardless of size or shape wore a girdle when they wore a skirt and stockings. And being a rotten teenager I made it my business to confirm this by a bump here and a bump there in the crowded hallway between classes. I was never busted for getting that little bump but thinking back now it made me feel like a creep. But today it was purely a crowded space and an unintentional bump.
Our food arrived and we had a pleasant conversation regardless that my mind was filled with a fetish that had ruled my youth and now I was sitting across from a pretty woman that had me aroused. In fact I was so aroused that standing would have been an embarrassment.
“Oh look at the time,” Greta said, “I promised I’d be back early, I need to pay for my lunch.”
“Why don’t I pay, you go ahead back to work, it will be my treat.” I said.
“Are you sure?” she asked as she stood grabbing her purse from the far end of the booth. As she did I could see the lines of her girdle telegraph through the thin fabric, “she should have worn a slip,” I thought.
“Yes go, I enjoyed meeting you and chatting.” I said.
Left alone in the booth my mind filled with every question that I used to have as a teen. What color? What brand, did it have satin panels? I had clearly seen enough seams through the skirt to know it was paneled but were they spandex panels or satin? “And why the hell does it matter Larry?” I cursed myself for falling so far back. As a man ready to retire why did I revert to my youth with a simply bump of the hand on her butt?
Back at work the numbers on my spreadsheets filled my mind with the complexity of corporate filings and eased the pain I felt from the unanswered questions. My computer beeped with an incoming e-mail. It was from Greta.
“Hey Larry, I had a great time at lunch and really appreciate you paying for it. Let me pay you back with a cup of coffee after work if you are free.”
My hands trembled with excitement. She was an exciting young woman and the thought of setting in a social setting with her pleased me. We exchanged a few e-mails and set the time and decided to meet back at the diner, “in our booth,” Greta wrote.
I was the first in the diner and grabbed the same booth, I sat on her side so I could see her arrive. I had this really stupid adolescent thought as I sat down, “Greta sat here wearing her panty girdle.” I had thoughts like this as a teen in high school and they had all come flooding back to me. Women of today simply don’t consider a girdle as something the wear.
My mind was filled with this thought, control top pantyhose is one thing they consider, maybe that horrible garment called Spanx, but not a long leg panty girdle with garters. That meant she must be wearing stockings instead of pantyhose or she would have ditched the garters.
Greta walked in the diner and I stood and waved to her. I had ordered coffee and asked for cream as I wasn’t sure how she took hers. As she put her purse on the booth seat I saw those telltale lines from her girdle again and a slight bulge where the girdle ended mid-thigh. “DAMN,” I cursed myself, just like a damn dog after a bone.
“Oh wonderful,” she said setting down to the steaming cup of coffee, “no waiting and you got cream for me as well. Such a gentlemen.” She said.
We started discussing the company we worked for and then she asked, “Are you married, am I keeping you from home?”
“No not married and not keeping me from home.” I said.
“This may seem very forward of me so if you refuse you won’t hurt my feelings. But would you let me cook you dinner at my place? I love to cook and I have no one to cook for except myself.”
I hesitated knowing that my cock would probably want me to go. “Please Larry, it won’t be anything fancy, I have a roast in the crock pot and can add a few potatoes to make it a meal.”
I agreed and I followed her to her apartment. Over dinner Greta said, “I must be honest, I have a thing for mature men. Not a daddy thing, I just love talking with men that lived in a time gone by. Does that sound creepy?” she asked.
“No it doesn’t and I certainly lived in a time gone by.” I said wondering where this might lead. I didn’t have long to wait.
“Well Larry I think I was born in the wrong era. I love the 1950’s and 60’s, things seemed simpler then and there was not all this wear what you want and who cares what you look like.” She smiled as she got a wistful look on her face as if she was time travelling back to that era. “For instance,” she said as if she needed to prove her point, “My mother said that back in that time period a woman simply would not leave the house without a properly fitted bra and girdle.”
And there is was! My cock hardened so fast I thought it would explode as I groped for something to say. “Well yes dress norms have changed radically and some think for the better.” I said hoping I wasn’t being forward with her.
Greta stood up and said, “Now take this skirt for example, simple lines, very sliming in style. It makes my legs look longer because of the narrow line, but what really makes it work is my girdle. The sales person that sold it to me was wearing one and she bulged in all the wrong places.”
I nearly choked on a sip of wine as she spoke so frankly about her undergarments. “The only problem I have is you can’t buy a decent slip these days and I know the seams of my girdle show through, do you find it distracting?”
“Okay,” I thought to myself, “she may be sorry for dragging me into this topic.” I wanted to suggest that she could look for a vintage slip, I know they are sold on eBay for sure.
Great looked at me, “I am making you uncomfortable aren’t I” she said as she smiled at me.
“To be honest Greta, no.” I said looking into her eyes ready for shock and perhaps concern she had invited a creep into her apartment.
Greta walked over to my side of the table and bent at the waist and kissed me tenderly on the lips. It was totally unexpected but not unappreciated. Her hand went to my shoulder as I stood up and pulled her close to me. We kissed again and my hand went to the small of her back as I felt her press her pelvis against my rock hard cock. Girdle be damned, I knew she could feel it.
I pulled away from the kiss and smiled. “When you said you had a thing for mature men what exactly did you mean?”
“I meant I have a thing for them in a social way.” And she paused and I knew I had just blown it. She swallowed hard and then said, “And in a sexual way. I know we just met but something tells me that you may just be my kind of man.”
I had been with my share of women in my lifetime but had never met a young woman so confident and assertive about what she wanted. Instead of some slow dance or cat and mouse sort of game to end up in bed she was right out with it. “I would love to share my bed with me but only if you promise not to kiss and tell at work, I don’t want a reputation to try to clean up.”
I replied by pulling her against me and running my hand down over her girdled butt and kissing her. I felt her lips parts and followed her lead with my tongue in her mouth. I could feel her breath quicken as we kissed and when we came up for air I said, “this is something I haven’t felt since the late 1960’s” as my hand moved across her firm butt.
“So you approve?” Greta asked.
“Yes I do, you make me feel like a high school student again.” I said as she took my hand and led me to the bedroom.
Greta turned on a small lamp on her dresser as I snapped off the overhead light. We were bathed in the amber glow of the lamp as I ran my hand across her shoulder and down her back. The silk blouse let my hand glide easily over her back and again my hand came to rest of her tightly girdled butt. “You like the way that feels, do you?” Greta asked.
I nodded yes and pulled her to me and pressed my erection against her. The layers of garments between us didn’t prevent me from feeling the curved of her body as we kissed. I felt her hand between us as she ran it over my erection that was straining to get out.
I pulled back and with my fingers on the top button of her blouse I asked, “May I,” and saw that glimmer in her eye that begged me to undress her. Each button yielded to my fingers and I peeled it off of her revealing her pretty white satin bra. As I had guessed it was a front closure and instead of exposing her breasts I felt for the zipper I knew held her skirt in place.
She looked into my eyes as I eased the zipper down and the skirt slid off her lower body. She stepped out of the skirt and stood with her hands on her hips in the subtle room lighting, “do you like?” she asked. I answered with my lips on hers and my hand running all over her girdled form. The soft blue fabric had a coarseness to it that I had forgotten. It had been years since I had been with a woman dressed in a foundation garment.
I smiled as I looked down seeing she was wearing panties under the girdle and the dark hose clipped to the garters. “May I ask,” I said, “I have not met a woman in so many years that wanted to wear a girdle. Have you always enjoyed dressing this way?”
“My mother insisted, she was an old school person that knew that a woman’s figure has a certain mystery when properly dressed. And she was right when she told me that a good man will find you attractive dressed this way.”
There was a small bow at the waistband of the girdle and the tummy panel pointed to the center of womanhood with an indication of her cleft showing through. My hand went to the nylon crotch and I ran my fingers over the fabric and felt her respond with a shiver as I pressed against her clit held tightly inside the girdle.
Greta moved to the bed and sat down with her legs parted. I knelt in front of her with my hands on her knees as she looked down at me. There was the scent of her arousal as well as the scent of the spandex girdle, but were extremely arousing to me. She reached out and unbuttoned my shirt pulling it out of my trousers. “Before you take off my stockings,” Greta said, “I want to see you naked.”
I stood and she unbuckled my belt and opened my fly. I felt my trousers drop around my legs and she pulled my boxers down releasing my cock from its confines. “Ummm,” she said, “I like what I am seeing as her hand circled around my cock and her other cupped my balls. She stroked me a few times and I pulled back, “not too much, I want to last.” I said and knelt in front of her again.
I carefully rolled the legs of her girdle up and released the garters and watched as her hose lost the perfectly smooth look of dark nylon and retreated down her legs. I rolled them down one at a time and felt her silky soft skin from mid thigh all the way to her toes. I looked up at her with a smile and pushed her back on the bed and rose to press my cock against the silky crotch panel barring my penetration. I could feel the heat of her arousal and the sense of dampness. We kissed and then I opened her bra closure and released her beautiful breasts.
Her hand went to my cock again, a slow gentle stroke and then she rolled off the bed, “Now it is time for the less than glamorous part of removing my girdle,” Greta said with a smile. I watched her as she rolled the waistband down a bit leaving lines in her skin where it had held her tightly all day.
“I love watching this part,” I said as she rolled the girdle down revealing smooth white nylon panties to offer one more chance to enjoy when she was free of the spandex prison she had willingly locked herself in. Every seam in the girdle left a mark on her skin, the garter impressions were as detailed as the garters themselves as she approached me wearing nothing but her panties. And there was a dark shadow telling me the rest of the story, she was not shaved.
“I will leave these for you to remove,” Greta said as she rolled on top of me. The slick nylon teased my cock as we rolled around the bed in a passionate kiss and each other’s hands exploring our bodies. I rolled her onto her back and ran my hand between her legs. She parted them to provide me all the space I would need as I slipped a finger between the panty and her soft skin.
Unlike the younger woman of today she was not at all groomed between her legs. The matted hair yielded to my fingers as I found the slippery folds between her legs. She moaned softly as I slid up and down her slit and she opened her eyes asking, “I hope you weren’t expecting me to be shaved down there.”
“You are perfect,” I said as I rolled between her legs and felt her guide my cock under her panties.
“I thought you might enjoy a little panty play before we get serious,” Greta said as I felt the silky nylon glide across my cock as my tip pressed against her soft hairy patch.
“I can’t wait,” I said as I pulled back enough to slip between her legs and my cock found the way to her hot slick sex. “Or do I need a condom?”I asked.
“No you don’t and don’t you dare stop until you fill me full,” Greta said as she raised her knees and spread them apart.
We met quite by accident. I was taking a lunch break at a little old fashioned diner near work. It was one of those long narrow diners with a counter and a row of booths that were suited for two people. As I moved through the crowd weaving in and out of those leaving after their lunch I stopped as a woman cut in front of me and my hand bumped her butt. Yes, it was by accident but what happened after that was no accident, I think of it as fate casting two lost souls together.
“Oh excuse me,” she said smiling up at me.
“No problem,” I said smiling back. In my mind was another thought besides no problem. I knew she was wearing a girdle. “How?” you ask. Well it comes from back in the late 1960’s when I was in high school and had discovered that I had this particular fetish for the garment. And I learned that a woman wearing a girdle had this hard feeling caused by the girdle stretching across her ass.
The bump of the back of my hand across what should have been a soft supple bit of flesh had told me a story I had long since forgotten about. And as she took a couple steps ahead of me I could plainly see she was flat all across the back in her straight skirt that would have displayed two wonderful orbs of flesh that we all love seeing in today’s liberated world.
“Was this going to be your booth?” she asked as she turned to face me. Her knit skirt fit her beautifully but perhaps she didn’t know that I could plainly see the bumps of her garters midway up her thigh, and at that moment I knew it was a long leg panty girdle. The bumps, although evident to the trained eye, and I considered mine to be well trained, knew that they were covered with the leg of the girdle. The standard girdle could not hide any of the profile of that lumpy device that had been one of my points of fascination. Nope, it was a long leg panty girdle and was no doubt a vintage style to boot.
“It is noisy in here,” she said, “Was this going to be your booth?” Her voice broke the spell of my twisted fetishistic mind and I found myself standing a few feet in front of a 30 something woman that made me feel like a high school student again. Tongue tied and AROUSED.
“Yes it was, but we could share unless you were expecting someone else,” I offered with a smile that I hoped was filled with the lust that I felt at this moment.
“Well thank you,” she said extending her hand, “my name is Greta.”
“Larry,” I said, “It is nice to meet you. Do you work around here? I am on my lunch break from the accounting firm down the street.”
“You’re k**ding,” she said, “which floor?”
“I am on the fourth floor,” I said, “nowhere near the top of that corporate ladder,” I finished with a smile and then thought, “what if she is one of the executives, YIKES!”
“Same here,” she said opening the menu, “I just started last year and have made it all the way to the third floor, guess you’re on top of me,” she said with a smile that told me she was trying to be cute and not sexually suggestive. “This is my first time here, what’s good?”
“I come here for the burgers, they really do a good job on them. But they also have a really good fish and chips basket.” I said looking up at the menu board above the counter, “But I guess everything I mentioned might be a little heavy if you are trying to watch your girlish figure.” The moment the words came out of my mouth I regretted it, in today’s politically correct world that would be considered a sexist comment. I looked at her face waiting for the look of scorn but it didn’t come.
She leaned across the table, “that is what a girdle is for, to hold it all together and allow me to eat what I choose. I am going to have the bacon burger, you just can’t go wrong with bacon,” she said with a smile. “But I will wash it down with a diet soda, gotta do something healthy.”
Greta looked through the menu as we waited for the waitress to come take the order. She was wearing a white silk blouse that was just sheer enough to see the outline of her bra that appeared to be a front close style but there wasn’t anything else distinguishable so I assumed it was not lace. My educated eye told me she must be a B cup and based on her height of about 5 foot 6 inches her breasts were perfectly suited to her overall body size.
I had noticed a very trim waistline in her thin knit skirt and attributed that to a well fitted panty girdle that must have ended right at her natural waistline. Setting in the booth opposite of me I couldn’t detect any “muffin top” bulge that told me that although she was wearing a girdle she really didn’t need it to control much.
My mind drifted back to my senior year in high school. Every girl regardless of size or shape wore a girdle when they wore a skirt and stockings. And being a rotten teenager I made it my business to confirm this by a bump here and a bump there in the crowded hallway between classes. I was never busted for getting that little bump but thinking back now it made me feel like a creep. But today it was purely a crowded space and an unintentional bump.
Our food arrived and we had a pleasant conversation regardless that my mind was filled with a fetish that had ruled my youth and now I was sitting across from a pretty woman that had me aroused. In fact I was so aroused that standing would have been an embarrassment.
“Oh look at the time,” Greta said, “I promised I’d be back early, I need to pay for my lunch.”
“Why don’t I pay, you go ahead back to work, it will be my treat.” I said.
“Are you sure?” she asked as she stood grabbing her purse from the far end of the booth. As she did I could see the lines of her girdle telegraph through the thin fabric, “she should have worn a slip,” I thought.
“Yes go, I enjoyed meeting you and chatting.” I said.
Left alone in the booth my mind filled with every question that I used to have as a teen. What color? What brand, did it have satin panels? I had clearly seen enough seams through the skirt to know it was paneled but were they spandex panels or satin? “And why the hell does it matter Larry?” I cursed myself for falling so far back. As a man ready to retire why did I revert to my youth with a simply bump of the hand on her butt?
Back at work the numbers on my spreadsheets filled my mind with the complexity of corporate filings and eased the pain I felt from the unanswered questions. My computer beeped with an incoming e-mail. It was from Greta.
“Hey Larry, I had a great time at lunch and really appreciate you paying for it. Let me pay you back with a cup of coffee after work if you are free.”
My hands trembled with excitement. She was an exciting young woman and the thought of setting in a social setting with her pleased me. We exchanged a few e-mails and set the time and decided to meet back at the diner, “in our booth,” Greta wrote.
I was the first in the diner and grabbed the same booth, I sat on her side so I could see her arrive. I had this really stupid adolescent thought as I sat down, “Greta sat here wearing her panty girdle.” I had thoughts like this as a teen in high school and they had all come flooding back to me. Women of today simply don’t consider a girdle as something the wear.
My mind was filled with this thought, control top pantyhose is one thing they consider, maybe that horrible garment called Spanx, but not a long leg panty girdle with garters. That meant she must be wearing stockings instead of pantyhose or she would have ditched the garters.
Greta walked in the diner and I stood and waved to her. I had ordered coffee and asked for cream as I wasn’t sure how she took hers. As she put her purse on the booth seat I saw those telltale lines from her girdle again and a slight bulge where the girdle ended mid-thigh. “DAMN,” I cursed myself, just like a damn dog after a bone.
“Oh wonderful,” she said setting down to the steaming cup of coffee, “no waiting and you got cream for me as well. Such a gentlemen.” She said.
We started discussing the company we worked for and then she asked, “Are you married, am I keeping you from home?”
“No not married and not keeping me from home.” I said.
“This may seem very forward of me so if you refuse you won’t hurt my feelings. But would you let me cook you dinner at my place? I love to cook and I have no one to cook for except myself.”
I hesitated knowing that my cock would probably want me to go. “Please Larry, it won’t be anything fancy, I have a roast in the crock pot and can add a few potatoes to make it a meal.”
I agreed and I followed her to her apartment. Over dinner Greta said, “I must be honest, I have a thing for mature men. Not a daddy thing, I just love talking with men that lived in a time gone by. Does that sound creepy?” she asked.
“No it doesn’t and I certainly lived in a time gone by.” I said wondering where this might lead. I didn’t have long to wait.
“Well Larry I think I was born in the wrong era. I love the 1950’s and 60’s, things seemed simpler then and there was not all this wear what you want and who cares what you look like.” She smiled as she got a wistful look on her face as if she was time travelling back to that era. “For instance,” she said as if she needed to prove her point, “My mother said that back in that time period a woman simply would not leave the house without a properly fitted bra and girdle.”
And there is was! My cock hardened so fast I thought it would explode as I groped for something to say. “Well yes dress norms have changed radically and some think for the better.” I said hoping I wasn’t being forward with her.
Greta stood up and said, “Now take this skirt for example, simple lines, very sliming in style. It makes my legs look longer because of the narrow line, but what really makes it work is my girdle. The sales person that sold it to me was wearing one and she bulged in all the wrong places.”
I nearly choked on a sip of wine as she spoke so frankly about her undergarments. “The only problem I have is you can’t buy a decent slip these days and I know the seams of my girdle show through, do you find it distracting?”
“Okay,” I thought to myself, “she may be sorry for dragging me into this topic.” I wanted to suggest that she could look for a vintage slip, I know they are sold on eBay for sure.
Great looked at me, “I am making you uncomfortable aren’t I” she said as she smiled at me.
“To be honest Greta, no.” I said looking into her eyes ready for shock and perhaps concern she had invited a creep into her apartment.
Greta walked over to my side of the table and bent at the waist and kissed me tenderly on the lips. It was totally unexpected but not unappreciated. Her hand went to my shoulder as I stood up and pulled her close to me. We kissed again and my hand went to the small of her back as I felt her press her pelvis against my rock hard cock. Girdle be damned, I knew she could feel it.
I pulled away from the kiss and smiled. “When you said you had a thing for mature men what exactly did you mean?”
“I meant I have a thing for them in a social way.” And she paused and I knew I had just blown it. She swallowed hard and then said, “And in a sexual way. I know we just met but something tells me that you may just be my kind of man.”
I had been with my share of women in my lifetime but had never met a young woman so confident and assertive about what she wanted. Instead of some slow dance or cat and mouse sort of game to end up in bed she was right out with it. “I would love to share my bed with me but only if you promise not to kiss and tell at work, I don’t want a reputation to try to clean up.”
I replied by pulling her against me and running my hand down over her girdled butt and kissing her. I felt her lips parts and followed her lead with my tongue in her mouth. I could feel her breath quicken as we kissed and when we came up for air I said, “this is something I haven’t felt since the late 1960’s” as my hand moved across her firm butt.
“So you approve?” Greta asked.
“Yes I do, you make me feel like a high school student again.” I said as she took my hand and led me to the bedroom.
Greta turned on a small lamp on her dresser as I snapped off the overhead light. We were bathed in the amber glow of the lamp as I ran my hand across her shoulder and down her back. The silk blouse let my hand glide easily over her back and again my hand came to rest of her tightly girdled butt. “You like the way that feels, do you?” Greta asked.
I nodded yes and pulled her to me and pressed my erection against her. The layers of garments between us didn’t prevent me from feeling the curved of her body as we kissed. I felt her hand between us as she ran it over my erection that was straining to get out.
I pulled back and with my fingers on the top button of her blouse I asked, “May I,” and saw that glimmer in her eye that begged me to undress her. Each button yielded to my fingers and I peeled it off of her revealing her pretty white satin bra. As I had guessed it was a front closure and instead of exposing her breasts I felt for the zipper I knew held her skirt in place.
She looked into my eyes as I eased the zipper down and the skirt slid off her lower body. She stepped out of the skirt and stood with her hands on her hips in the subtle room lighting, “do you like?” she asked. I answered with my lips on hers and my hand running all over her girdled form. The soft blue fabric had a coarseness to it that I had forgotten. It had been years since I had been with a woman dressed in a foundation garment.
I smiled as I looked down seeing she was wearing panties under the girdle and the dark hose clipped to the garters. “May I ask,” I said, “I have not met a woman in so many years that wanted to wear a girdle. Have you always enjoyed dressing this way?”
“My mother insisted, she was an old school person that knew that a woman’s figure has a certain mystery when properly dressed. And she was right when she told me that a good man will find you attractive dressed this way.”
There was a small bow at the waistband of the girdle and the tummy panel pointed to the center of womanhood with an indication of her cleft showing through. My hand went to the nylon crotch and I ran my fingers over the fabric and felt her respond with a shiver as I pressed against her clit held tightly inside the girdle.
Greta moved to the bed and sat down with her legs parted. I knelt in front of her with my hands on her knees as she looked down at me. There was the scent of her arousal as well as the scent of the spandex girdle, but were extremely arousing to me. She reached out and unbuttoned my shirt pulling it out of my trousers. “Before you take off my stockings,” Greta said, “I want to see you naked.”
I stood and she unbuckled my belt and opened my fly. I felt my trousers drop around my legs and she pulled my boxers down releasing my cock from its confines. “Ummm,” she said, “I like what I am seeing as her hand circled around my cock and her other cupped my balls. She stroked me a few times and I pulled back, “not too much, I want to last.” I said and knelt in front of her again.
I carefully rolled the legs of her girdle up and released the garters and watched as her hose lost the perfectly smooth look of dark nylon and retreated down her legs. I rolled them down one at a time and felt her silky soft skin from mid thigh all the way to her toes. I looked up at her with a smile and pushed her back on the bed and rose to press my cock against the silky crotch panel barring my penetration. I could feel the heat of her arousal and the sense of dampness. We kissed and then I opened her bra closure and released her beautiful breasts.
Her hand went to my cock again, a slow gentle stroke and then she rolled off the bed, “Now it is time for the less than glamorous part of removing my girdle,” Greta said with a smile. I watched her as she rolled the waistband down a bit leaving lines in her skin where it had held her tightly all day.
“I love watching this part,” I said as she rolled the girdle down revealing smooth white nylon panties to offer one more chance to enjoy when she was free of the spandex prison she had willingly locked herself in. Every seam in the girdle left a mark on her skin, the garter impressions were as detailed as the garters themselves as she approached me wearing nothing but her panties. And there was a dark shadow telling me the rest of the story, she was not shaved.
“I will leave these for you to remove,” Greta said as she rolled on top of me. The slick nylon teased my cock as we rolled around the bed in a passionate kiss and each other’s hands exploring our bodies. I rolled her onto her back and ran my hand between her legs. She parted them to provide me all the space I would need as I slipped a finger between the panty and her soft skin.
Unlike the younger woman of today she was not at all groomed between her legs. The matted hair yielded to my fingers as I found the slippery folds between her legs. She moaned softly as I slid up and down her slit and she opened her eyes asking, “I hope you weren’t expecting me to be shaved down there.”
“You are perfect,” I said as I rolled between her legs and felt her guide my cock under her panties.
“I thought you might enjoy a little panty play before we get serious,” Greta said as I felt the silky nylon glide across my cock as my tip pressed against her soft hairy patch.
“I can’t wait,” I said as I pulled back enough to slip between her legs and my cock found the way to her hot slick sex. “Or do I need a condom?”I asked.
“No you don’t and don’t you dare stop until you fill me full,” Greta said as she raised her knees and spread them apart.
Mila
- 06.05.2022
- 8
- 0
