Her Stockings
She had long, long legs, encased in sheer black nylons, and she sat opposite him with her knees pressed to one side. Her inner thighs brushed lightly together with each movement she made. Her pencil skirt had ridden up and he could see the darkness of her stocking tops where he wanted to run his fingers. He imagined his hands over the rough lace stocking tops, working upward; a delicious friction, and then finding her smooth skin and the heat of her arousal. She caught him looking and he...
BDSM