A Love for Leotards
- 3 years ago
- 8
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Lust In Leotards free porn video
TWO MEN'S FETISH FOR LEOTARDS AND TIGHTS TAKES ON A TWIST AS THEY DISCOVER ANOTHER NAUGHTY FETISH.
Boston was on the phone. He was telling his wife, who was working the night shift at the taxi rank, how he was going to have an early night. He hung up and looked at the mirror. He smoothed his hands over his pristine royal blue leotard stretched tightly over his well-fed stomach and arse and smiled. His danskin tights gleamed in the light. He slowly walked into the kitchen where the lodger, Ethan, was kneeling on the table in his tight, long-sleeved maroon lycra leotard and glossy ivory tights. The soles of his slippers were resting under his pert arse. The satin ribbons of his maroon ballet slippers crisscrossed his shins. Ethan’s lip gloss sparkled as he beamed at the sight of Boston. His beautiful blue eyes, under eye shadow and a platinum bobbed wig observed how the light hit Boston’s arse. ‘Apparently I’m having an early night,’ Boston said, leaning towards Ethan.
Ethan’s smile wrinkled his nose. Still kneeling, he put his hands on Boston’s broad shoulders. They exchanged the softest of kisses. Ethan had only been lodging with this kind couple for a month, after seeing an advertisement in the local newspaper and here they were. Lovers.
The affair started one evening when Ethan came home earlier than expected from his bar job and caught this well-built mature man, squeezed into a leotard, wanking himself off as he sniffed the seat of Ethan’s sweaty cycling shorts. Ethan had beamed with the words: ‘Seems that we have the same fetish in common. But if you insist sniffing my cycling shorts, you might at least make sure I’m wearing them.’ At that revelation, they kissed passionately, before Ethan took his jeans off and slipped into his tight purple Lycra shorts, and sat fully on Boston’s face, as he smilingly, gave him a long slow wank until the crotch of Boston’s leotard darkened with cream. Ever since then, they ordered tights and leotards, to satisfy their nylon and spandex fetish. Boston was obsessed about ballet costumes. On one occasion, while Boston’s wife was hosting a coffee morning, Ethan sent Boston a text from upstairs. When Boston came out into the hall, he saw Ethan, standing upstairs on the landing, in black tights, heels and a tight black lycra skirt, swaying from side to side, as he pouted his painted lips and a pink wig. Within moments Boston was upstairs. Ethan hid behind the bedroom door and surprised his landlord, by tugging a tight, shiny stocking over Boston’s face. While his wife was downstairs, entertaining the old biddies, Ethan and Boston were deeply but slowly kissing in the room above them. They only paused when Ethan insisted that he showed his lover what was under his tights.
‘Recognise these?’
‘They’re my wife’s knickers! She hasn’t worn those for years,’ said Boston having a good look and feeling the smooth sheen of satin under nylon.
‘Let’s be honest,’ said Ethan, ‘…she wouldn’t be able to fit her old, saggy fat arse in them these days.’ This comment only made Boston kiss Ethan harder, as he grabbed Ethan’s arse. With his wife and the old biddies chattering away downstairs, Boston liberally piped his hot spunk over his wife’s knickers, through Ethan’s shiny tights.
Back in the present, Ethan gazed at Boston’s hard cock stretching his skin tight leotard. He ran his hands over Boston’s broad shoulders, and rested them around his neck, as he admired the hunk with fascination. In a whisper, and with the sweetest of big-eyed, treacherous smiles, he said. ‘I wish your wife could see us in our leotards, like this. I think she’d be happy for us.’
They paused. Ethan looked down and gave a short giggle. Boston cupped his chin. Their eyes met. Ethan bit his lip and gave an innocent look.
‘I must admit your missus has done a lot for me, she found me the job at the bar…and she found you,’ said Ethan, as he shifted his position, to embrace Boston, making his leotard swish and strain. ‘Oh my darling!’ he gasped. They kissed very deeply and passionately. Ethan’s hands reached and stroked Boston’s broad glossy back. For about twenty minutes no other sound could be heard other than their stroking lips. This wasn’t simple lust but secret, intense love. Ethan’s closed eyelids under his eye shadow sparkled, as his jaw moved against Boston’s mature jaw. Sheer, secret pleasure. Sheer sensations. Sheer luxury and finesse. After they finished, Ethan sighed. ‘I have a surprise for you in the bedroom.’
Boston lay on the bed and closed his eyes, just as Ethan asked him to. On the dressing table was a pink tutu and a white tiara. Ethan pulled up the tutu and placed the tiara on his head. ‘You can open your eyes now,’ he smiled, posing with his hands on his hips.
‘Fuck me,’ said Boston.
‘I intend to,’ Ethan giggled. He then whimsically sang to himself as he stretched his legs and pointed his toes. He even did a couple of crude pirouettes. ‘I’m a ballerina, Boston. In my pretty little tutu. Oh how I love my sheer tights. In America they call them pantyhose! I like the sound of that. Panty. Hose. Pantyhose! As soon as I saw you I wanted to be your special sissy, wissy,’ he said, as he dreamily looked up. Ethan paused and put a finger on his lip. ‘Now I need to inspect your leotard…’ Ethan grinned hungrily and crawled onto the bed, his tutu exposing the tight sheen of his leotard arse. ‘Why is your leotard hard?’ said Ethan, as he curiously traced his fingers over Boston’s glistening encased crotch.
‘Because I want to fuck you,’ said Boston.
Ethan slowly stroked Boston’s crotch and looked at him testily. ‘Really? Do you mean that! Does this feel good?’ said Ethan, on his front as he pressed his knees together, exposing his skintight arse in his long sleeve leotard. ‘Hm, seems your skintight leotard isn’t pristine.’
There were already dried stains in Boston’s leotard where he had previously wanked himself off thinking of Ethan. In fact his leotard belonged to Ethan. It really was too skintight. Ethan rubbed and manipulated Boston’s stiff cock through the lycra. Ethan’s eyes beamed as he said, ‘It’s so smooth! Oh it’s stiff! Oh Boston! All for me,’ he closed his eyes and smiled as he rested his chin between Boston’s upper thighs. Ethan smoothed his hands over Boston’s thighs in the luxury danskin tights. ‘So sheer! I love tights so much!’ Ethan then inhaled deeply and twitched his nose against Boston’s fat, hard crotch. He then placed soft pecks as he looked in Boston’s eyes. ‘Oh Boston! I really love you.’
‘You’re so good to me!’
Ethan slowly ran his tongue along Boston’s shiny length as he smiled. Seeing this beautiful sissy between his legs, framed in makeup, platinum wig and tiara, licking his crotch was almost too much. Ethan’s smile was a crotch-licking smile. ‘I’m so happy!’ Ethan exhaled. ‘I love wearing my luxury leotard for you,’ he smiled.
Ethan moved up and lay on top of Boston. ‘I really wish you were my husband,’ he sighed, before placing a soft peck on Boston. ‘We could dress like this all the time,’ he said dreamily as he lay in Boston’s arms. Boston stroked Ethan’s arse under the tutu. Ethan closed his eyes and smiled. He smoothed his hands over Boston’s lycra chest. ‘Oh Boston? Would you like to know what I think about when I’m alone?’
‘Nice thoughts, I hope,’ said Boston.
Ethan looked down and smiled. ‘If I tell you, you won’t think I’m weird will you?’
‘We’re lying in our leotards together, while the wife is working,’ said Boston. ‘You can have any thought about me you like.’
Ethan smiled and whispered something to Boston. ‘Wow, is that what you’d like me to do?’ said Boston. Ethan wet a bit red, but his heart was beating faster. ‘It’s a curiosity of mine. I’ve always had this theory that if I was turned on enough I might like to try it. Will you?’ he said.
Boston cupped Ethan’s face. ‘On your pretty face?’
‘Please,’ said Ethan. ‘I’ll even say thank you.’
Boston could see Ethan’s total wide open sincerity in his eyes. They kissed.
‘Right where do you want me?’ said Boston. Ethan instructed him to stand by the dresser and bend over a little, while Ethan crouched down behind him, with his leotard arse poking out of his tutu. Ethan pressed his cheek against Boston’s arse. ‘Are you sure about this?’ said Boston.
‘Please, Boston,’ Ethan begged. ‘Please, my love. Do it!’ Ethan closed his eyes and pressed his nose against Boston’s fat arse packed into his skin tight leotard. Boston strained and delivered a hot fat fart on Ethan’s face. Ethan pinched his nose, inhaled and smiled in bliss. ‘Oh darling! Thank you! Oh my! I’m so lucky!’ Ethan smoothed his hand over Boston’s tight, fat rump as Boston thundered out another big, pungent one. Ethan inhaled. ‘Oh! Oh! I’m your private fart sissy,’ said Ethan as his nose twitched and he inhaled. ‘Oh please! I want more! Fart! Fart, Mr. Boston!’ Boston blasted another and another. Ethan laughed leisurely as he sniffed and sniffed. ‘I’m so lucky! Oh how lucky I am! How delightful it is to be your leotard wearing sissy ballerina while you’re doing this to me! Oh you’re so good to me.’ Ethan placed a long slow peck on Boston’s leotard stretch. ‘I could sniff you all night,’ Ethan sighed, closing his eyes. Boston rubbed his leotard cock. He couldn’t believe a face so pretty, was sniffing his arse. Ethan rose and lay on the bed. ‘Will you sit on my face and… fart my head right into the bed!’ Boston lowered the weight of his fat arse on Ethan’s face, squashing his nose. Ethan stroked and smoothed Boston’s skin tight rump and sniffed and whimpered as Boston farted. He sniffed and sniffed. Within minutes he noticed Ethan’s crotch darken as he flooded his leotard with his spunk. ‘I’m so happy, I’m so happy,’ squealed Ethan, muffled by Boston’s fat arse.
After Ethan recovered he took his tutu off and knelt on the chair, with his hands gripping the back rest as Boston stood before him. He looked up at Boston with a secret smirk.
‘What does a pretty young man in his early twenties see in a fat, man in his mid-sixties,’ said Boston, not believing how filthy Ethan was.
‘Are you k**ding?’ gasped Ethan, as he sucked and gobbled Boston’s cock through his leotard hungrily. ‘I love your cock! Ooh my Boston! This is all for sissy me!’ Boston looked at the ecstatic blue eyes under his tiara and platinum wig, his fresh glossy lips and how his arse stretched his shiny maroon leotard in the mirror. Just then Ethan closed his eyes, strained and smiled as he pushed out a loud thin fart as he sucked his man. Ethan giggled hysterically as he rubbed his cheeks and lips on Boston’s fat, hard leotard crotch. ‘Get behind me, darling, I want you to hump me in your lycra as I fart,’ said Ethan. ‘I want you to see my ballet slippers, my sheer, glossy tights and my arse. I want you to see how my pretty face looks at you.’ Boston manoeuvred the chair so it was facing the mirror. Ethan put his phone on the stand and recorded it. Boston carefully put his strong hands on Ethan’s hips and slapped his glossy thighs against Ethan’s buttocks. ‘Ooh pump me! Pump me!’ cried Ethan beaming at the camera, as he pushed out fart after loud fart on Boston’s crotch. ‘Ooh, pump me as I fart. I’m your farting princess. I always was! Sniff me as you pump!’
‘You like that, you fucking like that, my farting princess?’ said Boston, almost out of breath, lycra slapping and swishing on lycra.
‘Shag my smelly skintight leotard!’ Ethan grinned.
‘Fucking hell, you disgusting sissy! It stinks!’ yelled Boston as he pumped Ethan harder and faster.
‘Ooh I love my leotard and tights!’ Ethan squealed, running a hand down his hair and cheeks and fluttering his eyelashes. ‘I love wearing it for me, as much as you like me wearing it for you!’ Boston was close now.
‘You’re making me cum! I can’t fucking stand it,’ said Boston.
‘On my face, come on my lips!’ Ethan said, making a victory sign for the camera. Boston stepped forward, pulled his leotard to one side. The jet of cream was so violent that it shot through his tights all over Ethan’s beautiful face, and on the sparkling chest of his lycra maroon leotard. All captured on video. ‘We are worth this,’ said Ethan, as the spunk ran over his lips and down his chin. They didn’t take their leotards off. They went to bed and slept all night dressed like that. Ethan in Boston’s arms, so happy to find true love. The morning after Boston’s wife wanted to know why the fuck her husband was in the bed with their lodger and why they were wearing leotards.
Boston was on the phone. He was telling his wife, who was working the night shift at the taxi rank, how he was going to have an early night. He hung up and looked at the mirror. He smoothed his hands over his pristine royal blue leotard stretched tightly over his well-fed stomach and arse and smiled. His danskin tights gleamed in the light. He slowly walked into the kitchen where the lodger, Ethan, was kneeling on the table in his tight, long-sleeved maroon lycra leotard and glossy ivory tights. The soles of his slippers were resting under his pert arse. The satin ribbons of his maroon ballet slippers crisscrossed his shins. Ethan’s lip gloss sparkled as he beamed at the sight of Boston. His beautiful blue eyes, under eye shadow and a platinum bobbed wig observed how the light hit Boston’s arse. ‘Apparently I’m having an early night,’ Boston said, leaning towards Ethan.
Ethan’s smile wrinkled his nose. Still kneeling, he put his hands on Boston’s broad shoulders. They exchanged the softest of kisses. Ethan had only been lodging with this kind couple for a month, after seeing an advertisement in the local newspaper and here they were. Lovers.
The affair started one evening when Ethan came home earlier than expected from his bar job and caught this well-built mature man, squeezed into a leotard, wanking himself off as he sniffed the seat of Ethan’s sweaty cycling shorts. Ethan had beamed with the words: ‘Seems that we have the same fetish in common. But if you insist sniffing my cycling shorts, you might at least make sure I’m wearing them.’ At that revelation, they kissed passionately, before Ethan took his jeans off and slipped into his tight purple Lycra shorts, and sat fully on Boston’s face, as he smilingly, gave him a long slow wank until the crotch of Boston’s leotard darkened with cream. Ever since then, they ordered tights and leotards, to satisfy their nylon and spandex fetish. Boston was obsessed about ballet costumes. On one occasion, while Boston’s wife was hosting a coffee morning, Ethan sent Boston a text from upstairs. When Boston came out into the hall, he saw Ethan, standing upstairs on the landing, in black tights, heels and a tight black lycra skirt, swaying from side to side, as he pouted his painted lips and a pink wig. Within moments Boston was upstairs. Ethan hid behind the bedroom door and surprised his landlord, by tugging a tight, shiny stocking over Boston’s face. While his wife was downstairs, entertaining the old biddies, Ethan and Boston were deeply but slowly kissing in the room above them. They only paused when Ethan insisted that he showed his lover what was under his tights.
‘Recognise these?’
‘They’re my wife’s knickers! She hasn’t worn those for years,’ said Boston having a good look and feeling the smooth sheen of satin under nylon.
‘Let’s be honest,’ said Ethan, ‘…she wouldn’t be able to fit her old, saggy fat arse in them these days.’ This comment only made Boston kiss Ethan harder, as he grabbed Ethan’s arse. With his wife and the old biddies chattering away downstairs, Boston liberally piped his hot spunk over his wife’s knickers, through Ethan’s shiny tights.
Back in the present, Ethan gazed at Boston’s hard cock stretching his skin tight leotard. He ran his hands over Boston’s broad shoulders, and rested them around his neck, as he admired the hunk with fascination. In a whisper, and with the sweetest of big-eyed, treacherous smiles, he said. ‘I wish your wife could see us in our leotards, like this. I think she’d be happy for us.’
They paused. Ethan looked down and gave a short giggle. Boston cupped his chin. Their eyes met. Ethan bit his lip and gave an innocent look.
‘I must admit your missus has done a lot for me, she found me the job at the bar…and she found you,’ said Ethan, as he shifted his position, to embrace Boston, making his leotard swish and strain. ‘Oh my darling!’ he gasped. They kissed very deeply and passionately. Ethan’s hands reached and stroked Boston’s broad glossy back. For about twenty minutes no other sound could be heard other than their stroking lips. This wasn’t simple lust but secret, intense love. Ethan’s closed eyelids under his eye shadow sparkled, as his jaw moved against Boston’s mature jaw. Sheer, secret pleasure. Sheer sensations. Sheer luxury and finesse. After they finished, Ethan sighed. ‘I have a surprise for you in the bedroom.’
Boston lay on the bed and closed his eyes, just as Ethan asked him to. On the dressing table was a pink tutu and a white tiara. Ethan pulled up the tutu and placed the tiara on his head. ‘You can open your eyes now,’ he smiled, posing with his hands on his hips.
‘Fuck me,’ said Boston.
‘I intend to,’ Ethan giggled. He then whimsically sang to himself as he stretched his legs and pointed his toes. He even did a couple of crude pirouettes. ‘I’m a ballerina, Boston. In my pretty little tutu. Oh how I love my sheer tights. In America they call them pantyhose! I like the sound of that. Panty. Hose. Pantyhose! As soon as I saw you I wanted to be your special sissy, wissy,’ he said, as he dreamily looked up. Ethan paused and put a finger on his lip. ‘Now I need to inspect your leotard…’ Ethan grinned hungrily and crawled onto the bed, his tutu exposing the tight sheen of his leotard arse. ‘Why is your leotard hard?’ said Ethan, as he curiously traced his fingers over Boston’s glistening encased crotch.
‘Because I want to fuck you,’ said Boston.
Ethan slowly stroked Boston’s crotch and looked at him testily. ‘Really? Do you mean that! Does this feel good?’ said Ethan, on his front as he pressed his knees together, exposing his skintight arse in his long sleeve leotard. ‘Hm, seems your skintight leotard isn’t pristine.’
There were already dried stains in Boston’s leotard where he had previously wanked himself off thinking of Ethan. In fact his leotard belonged to Ethan. It really was too skintight. Ethan rubbed and manipulated Boston’s stiff cock through the lycra. Ethan’s eyes beamed as he said, ‘It’s so smooth! Oh it’s stiff! Oh Boston! All for me,’ he closed his eyes and smiled as he rested his chin between Boston’s upper thighs. Ethan smoothed his hands over Boston’s thighs in the luxury danskin tights. ‘So sheer! I love tights so much!’ Ethan then inhaled deeply and twitched his nose against Boston’s fat, hard crotch. He then placed soft pecks as he looked in Boston’s eyes. ‘Oh Boston! I really love you.’
‘You’re so good to me!’
Ethan slowly ran his tongue along Boston’s shiny length as he smiled. Seeing this beautiful sissy between his legs, framed in makeup, platinum wig and tiara, licking his crotch was almost too much. Ethan’s smile was a crotch-licking smile. ‘I’m so happy!’ Ethan exhaled. ‘I love wearing my luxury leotard for you,’ he smiled.
Ethan moved up and lay on top of Boston. ‘I really wish you were my husband,’ he sighed, before placing a soft peck on Boston. ‘We could dress like this all the time,’ he said dreamily as he lay in Boston’s arms. Boston stroked Ethan’s arse under the tutu. Ethan closed his eyes and smiled. He smoothed his hands over Boston’s lycra chest. ‘Oh Boston? Would you like to know what I think about when I’m alone?’
‘Nice thoughts, I hope,’ said Boston.
Ethan looked down and smiled. ‘If I tell you, you won’t think I’m weird will you?’
‘We’re lying in our leotards together, while the wife is working,’ said Boston. ‘You can have any thought about me you like.’
Ethan smiled and whispered something to Boston. ‘Wow, is that what you’d like me to do?’ said Boston. Ethan wet a bit red, but his heart was beating faster. ‘It’s a curiosity of mine. I’ve always had this theory that if I was turned on enough I might like to try it. Will you?’ he said.
Boston cupped Ethan’s face. ‘On your pretty face?’
‘Please,’ said Ethan. ‘I’ll even say thank you.’
Boston could see Ethan’s total wide open sincerity in his eyes. They kissed.
‘Right where do you want me?’ said Boston. Ethan instructed him to stand by the dresser and bend over a little, while Ethan crouched down behind him, with his leotard arse poking out of his tutu. Ethan pressed his cheek against Boston’s arse. ‘Are you sure about this?’ said Boston.
‘Please, Boston,’ Ethan begged. ‘Please, my love. Do it!’ Ethan closed his eyes and pressed his nose against Boston’s fat arse packed into his skin tight leotard. Boston strained and delivered a hot fat fart on Ethan’s face. Ethan pinched his nose, inhaled and smiled in bliss. ‘Oh darling! Thank you! Oh my! I’m so lucky!’ Ethan smoothed his hand over Boston’s tight, fat rump as Boston thundered out another big, pungent one. Ethan inhaled. ‘Oh! Oh! I’m your private fart sissy,’ said Ethan as his nose twitched and he inhaled. ‘Oh please! I want more! Fart! Fart, Mr. Boston!’ Boston blasted another and another. Ethan laughed leisurely as he sniffed and sniffed. ‘I’m so lucky! Oh how lucky I am! How delightful it is to be your leotard wearing sissy ballerina while you’re doing this to me! Oh you’re so good to me.’ Ethan placed a long slow peck on Boston’s leotard stretch. ‘I could sniff you all night,’ Ethan sighed, closing his eyes. Boston rubbed his leotard cock. He couldn’t believe a face so pretty, was sniffing his arse. Ethan rose and lay on the bed. ‘Will you sit on my face and… fart my head right into the bed!’ Boston lowered the weight of his fat arse on Ethan’s face, squashing his nose. Ethan stroked and smoothed Boston’s skin tight rump and sniffed and whimpered as Boston farted. He sniffed and sniffed. Within minutes he noticed Ethan’s crotch darken as he flooded his leotard with his spunk. ‘I’m so happy, I’m so happy,’ squealed Ethan, muffled by Boston’s fat arse.
After Ethan recovered he took his tutu off and knelt on the chair, with his hands gripping the back rest as Boston stood before him. He looked up at Boston with a secret smirk.
‘What does a pretty young man in his early twenties see in a fat, man in his mid-sixties,’ said Boston, not believing how filthy Ethan was.
‘Are you k**ding?’ gasped Ethan, as he sucked and gobbled Boston’s cock through his leotard hungrily. ‘I love your cock! Ooh my Boston! This is all for sissy me!’ Boston looked at the ecstatic blue eyes under his tiara and platinum wig, his fresh glossy lips and how his arse stretched his shiny maroon leotard in the mirror. Just then Ethan closed his eyes, strained and smiled as he pushed out a loud thin fart as he sucked his man. Ethan giggled hysterically as he rubbed his cheeks and lips on Boston’s fat, hard leotard crotch. ‘Get behind me, darling, I want you to hump me in your lycra as I fart,’ said Ethan. ‘I want you to see my ballet slippers, my sheer, glossy tights and my arse. I want you to see how my pretty face looks at you.’ Boston manoeuvred the chair so it was facing the mirror. Ethan put his phone on the stand and recorded it. Boston carefully put his strong hands on Ethan’s hips and slapped his glossy thighs against Ethan’s buttocks. ‘Ooh pump me! Pump me!’ cried Ethan beaming at the camera, as he pushed out fart after loud fart on Boston’s crotch. ‘Ooh, pump me as I fart. I’m your farting princess. I always was! Sniff me as you pump!’
‘You like that, you fucking like that, my farting princess?’ said Boston, almost out of breath, lycra slapping and swishing on lycra.
‘Shag my smelly skintight leotard!’ Ethan grinned.
‘Fucking hell, you disgusting sissy! It stinks!’ yelled Boston as he pumped Ethan harder and faster.
‘Ooh I love my leotard and tights!’ Ethan squealed, running a hand down his hair and cheeks and fluttering his eyelashes. ‘I love wearing it for me, as much as you like me wearing it for you!’ Boston was close now.
‘You’re making me cum! I can’t fucking stand it,’ said Boston.
‘On my face, come on my lips!’ Ethan said, making a victory sign for the camera. Boston stepped forward, pulled his leotard to one side. The jet of cream was so violent that it shot through his tights all over Ethan’s beautiful face, and on the sparkling chest of his lycra maroon leotard. All captured on video. ‘We are worth this,’ said Ethan, as the spunk ran over his lips and down his chin. They didn’t take their leotards off. They went to bed and slept all night dressed like that. Ethan in Boston’s arms, so happy to find true love. The morning after Boston’s wife wanted to know why the fuck her husband was in the bed with their lodger and why they were wearing leotards.
Kierra
- 02.05.2021
- 28
- 0
