Buying Nylons (Part Two - a Long Read)

This story took place about fifteen years ago. That morning I had been in the city on business, but the meeting had ended earlier than expected and I found myself driving home sooner than I'd thought, with no fixed plans for the rest of the day. By sheer coincidence, my route home took me past my favourite sex shop; an anonymous warehouse tucked away on an industrial estate. The devil in me came to life, and I decided to call in. The store was a huge place, clean and modern inside, and obviously intended to appeal to women as well as men - not at all like the seedy dives that used to be tucked away in the rough parts of town, back in the old days. It had two main sections. The first was devoted to sexy clothing, fantasy wear, and "his-and-hers" sex toys. It was all very modest and tasteful. Through this section, after passing along a corridor (lit red as if you were descending into a fancy nightclub) was the second room. This one was full of hardcore porn videos, bondage gear and brutal looking vibrators - more like the old-school sex shops I was familiar with. I liked it in there, but on this particular day I could find what I wanted in the first room, so spent a few minutes browsing through some of the garments on the racks.  There was plenty of stuff for the ladies; nurses uniforms, negligees, body stockings etc, and a few things for the guys, mostly garments made of tight fitting Lycra, or fishnet material. But I knew that all I wanted were some sheer, black, hold-up stockings. I wandered over to the rail containing the stockings, which was next to the sales counter, and began to browse. Two sales assistants were chatting behind the counter, but neither paid me much attention. Finally, I selected the nylons I liked and took them to the counter. The first assistant was in her late twenties, and a little "gothic" in her appearance; a mess of black and purple hair atop a round face, quite pretty, with aggressive tattoos on her bare arms, revealed by a black vest top that accentuated her bosom. Below the counter I could see that she was wearing a black skirt, nylons and pixie boots. Alongside her, it was the second assistant who I gave the stockings to. She was more "motherly" in appearance; middle-aged, plump, wide hipped and dressed in blue jeans and a beige blouse. She smiled as she took the package from me. "For the wife?" she asked, with a knowing smile.

I didn't blush, and shook my head. "No, for me, actually," I said, and smiled back at the two women. "It's okay, love," Mumsy said, and then nodded towards her colleague. "She's got one at home." I looked at Goth Girl for clarification. "The boyfriend," she said. "He likes to dress up, as well. It's not that uncommon in goth circles."

I nodded, but my eyes were wandering to a mannequin at the far end of the counter. She was dressed in a basque, stockings and suspenders, crotchless panties and super high red stilettos. An idea suddenly raced into my already horny mind.

"Those crotchless panties," I said, pointing at the mannequin. "How much are they?"

Goth Girl looked over at the display and confirmed the price. "But they're cheap rubbish," she said, as she reached under the counter and found a pair for me to touch and feel. I ran the panties through my fingers and it was obvious that they were made from cheap fabric. Goth Girl then reached back under the counter and pulled out a second package. "These are much better," she said, and took the new panties out for me to feel. These were much less frilly around the edges, were made of a much more expensive, silky material, with a neat slit along the crotch.

"I take it these are for you as well," Mumsy said.

I nodded again. "I've never had a pair," I said. "But I've always wanted to wank with some on."

Both women smiled at this, then Mumsy said: "But you're still looking at the shoes?"

She was right, of course. I had been staring at the red stilettos, obviously interested in them. "What size do they come in?" I asked.

Mumsy smiled again. "All sizes, love," she said. "I'm sure we'll find some for you." She looked down at my feet, then said: "I'll just get some from the back room. What are you, a size nine?"

I nodded again, as she disappeared.

Suddenly alone with Goth Girl I became a little shy, and hurriedly said: "What about a bra to complete the outfit?"

I felt slightly silly when Goth Girl began to shake her head. "No disrespect," she began, "but you haven't got very good tits. A bra would look silly. But I've got something..."

She came out from behind the counter and crossed the room to where a pile of plastic packets were stacked on a shelf. She had to reach up to the top, and as she did I got a nice look at her backside, which was firm and round through her tight skirt. She came back to the counter just as Mumsy returned with a box with the red stilettos in.

"There," Goth Girl said, pushing the package towards me. "It's a nylon t-shirt. Figure hugging, but with holes cut for your nipples to poke through. It'll look great with the stockings, trust me!"

"Wow!" I said, smiling, and wondering if the women could tell I was getting uncomfortably hard in my trousers.

"I'll need to try it on first, though," I said. "And the shoes..."

"No problem," Mumsy said. "But if you want to try on the stockings and panties, you'll have to buy them first..."

I was slightly puzzled by this. "I'm not sure I'll need to try on the..."

Mumsy cut me off. I obviously wasn't getting what they were offering. "No, but if you wanted to try on the whole outfit...y'know...we have a room..."

Both women smiled at me in unison. "Down the corridor on the left," Goth Girl said. "Take your time and enjoy. We'll come and check on you in a few minutes..."

Mumsy gathered up the purchases and passed them to me, then before I departed she reached into a drawer under the counter and passed me a small square packet. I thought at first it was a condom, but on inspection it was a sample packet of a silicon lubricant. Now, finally, it was very clear what they were giving me the opportunity to do.

"Go on," Mumsy said. "The shop's quiet. No one will interrupt you. Just have fun."

The changing room was much like any you'd find in a high-street clothing store, maybe a little larger than average, with two full length mirrors set at angles, a bench seat wrapping around three sides, and a small armchair tucked into the opposite corner. I laid the packages of lingerie and the red stilettos on the bench seat, looked into the mirror and began to undress from my business suit. As I removed my trousers it was obvious how aroused I already was; my penis was semi-erect, with the head peaking out of the fly in my loose-fitting boxer shorts. I was eager to change into the nylons and panties and get to work masturbating my cock.

Once fully naked I sat on the bench seat and rolled on the stockings. They were as soft and cool to the touch as I'd hoped and the sensation sent a tingling through my entire body, my already hard cock stretching itself to bursting as it climbed up in exaggerated excitement. Next, I pulled on the nylon vest. It was shorter cropped than expected and only stretched down to just above my belly. But Goth Girl had been correct - the expanse of naked white flesh between the bottom of the vest and the top of the stockings looked aesthetically pleasing to me. I noticed my nipples poking through the holes in the vest, and they were bullet hard, despite being so small.

The crotchless panties fitted perfectly and, like the stockings, were silky and cool against my balls and backside. My raging erection was bursting through the slit in the front of the pants and standing proudly out in front of me. I don't have a massive penis, but at that moment I was very proud of what length I did have! Finally, I slid on the red stilettos. Size nine was just right, and my stocking clad feet slipped into the shoes perfectly. I had once tried on my girlfriend's size seven shoes a few years previously, and although quite pleasing, the pain of getting into them had dulled the erotic thrill slightly. Now, though, these larger shoes felt fantastic - even though they added another three inches to my slim, six foot height.

Fully dressed in the lingerie and shoes, I turned and looked in the mirror and enjoyed what I saw. The contrast between the black lingerie and my white skin was very erotic, and my erection looked glorious, poking out in front of me. I opened the sachet of lubricant, applied it to my penis and began to slowly slide my hand around my shaft. I knew I would have to be careful not to come too quickly, and paced each movement, milking my penis in long, soft strokes - leaving the head to bounce free every so often to avoid ejaculating too soon.

I usually masturbate sitting or laying down, so it was unusual to jerk while standing up, but the image in the mirror was turning me on so much, I had too - and also to benefit from the feeling I got from the stilettos, as they stretched my calf muscles, taught and lean.

I continued to stroke for a few more minutes, edging around a climax, my cock full of cum and ready to ejaculate at any moment of my choosing. I was in a blissful, heavenly place; in a world of my own, lost in a strange and unexpected erotic situation.

Until...

Tap, tap, tap...

Someone was at the door...

"You okay in there?"

It was Goth Girl. 

I froze, my erection in my fist, motionless.

"Erm...fine, thanks," I managed to croak.

"Everything fit okay?" Goth Girl asked through the closed door.

I breathed out heavily. "Yes, just...erm...great, thank you."

There was a slight pause and I wondered if Goth Girl had gone away, but then she softly whispered: "Would you like me to have a look?"

I was shocked, and almost tongue-tied. "Erm..." I stuttered. "Would you like to?"

I heard a slight giggle from the other side of the door. "I think that would be nice," Goth Girl said. "You wanna let me in?"

I unlatched the door and allowed it to swing open. Goth Girl came into the room and stared at me with a huge smile on her face. "Oh, yes," she said. "I told you the vest would work. And wasn't I right?"

I nodded, aware that my hand was still gripping my cock, but wasn't masturbating it any more.

Goth Girl was immediately sympathetic to my disposition, then said: "It's okay, love. Carry on...but..."

"Yes?" I asked, intrigued.

"If you'd like, I could take off my clothes as well..."

I wasn't expecting that, but the idea was completely thrilling., even when Goth Girl suddenly introduced a charge for this arrangement.

"Have you got thirty quid in cash on you?" she asked. "If that's okay with you? Then I'll join in however you want..."

I almost came there and then at the prospect. Thirty pounds seemed a bargain, even to see just one of Goth Girl's tits. I reached into my suit trousers' pockets and removed my wallet, found thirty pounds in notes and handed them to Goth Girl.

"But what about the boyfriend?" I asked.

Goth Girl smiled. "Oh, he won't mind," she said. "Like I told you before, we're very open minded!"

Transaction complete, Goth Girl asked me what I wanted her to do. I realised that for only thirty pounds she wasn't going to let me fuck her - but that wasn't on my agenda, anyway. My enjoyment was going to come from masturbating, and the presence of Goth Girl was only going to heighten the pleasure.

"Please," I began, an excited nervousness in my voice, "could you just slowly remove your skirt and your top?"

She did, and I began to masturbate again as she stripped. I realised I no longer felt as comfortable standing, so eased myself onto the bench seats, stretching my legs out in front of me, and spreading them as wide as I could to give me maximum access to my cock.

"This okay?" Goth Girl said softly, as she stood in front of me, semi-naked. 

I nodded in approval. "Beautiful," I said, as she did a quick spin so that I could admire her buttocks. She was wearing black pantyhose with white knickers under them, and her bottom looked luscious and round. She turned back to face me, and her ample bosom bobbed inside her black bra.

"Not sure about the white panties," she said. "But I wasn't expecting to be doing this today." She giggled as I continued to stroke my fully erect penis, which was slippy and shiny, poking through the crotchless panties.

"Oh, I like it," I said. "You have a perfect bum..."

"Oh, such a gentleman," Goth Girl said, mock blushing at my flattery. "What next?"

I asked her to sit in the chair opposite me, and to spread her legs over the arms, mirroring the position I was in - wide open and exposed. She complied, and relaxed into the chair, before she began to gently massage her breasts, all the time keeping them tucked inside her bra.

"Mmm...feels nice," she said, pulling at her nipples through the fabric occasionally.

I was now on the edge of climaxing again, so began to control my strokes, letting go of my cock around the head regularly, so as not to cum.

"Could I see your breasts?" I asked next, after a few minutes of watching her play with them.

Goth Girl smiled again, then unhooked her bra and let her tits hang free. They were magnificent; perfect, natural boobs, round and soft, with perky pink-brown nipples that were standing to attention. I wanted to enjoy them fully, so asked Goth Girl to stop fondling them, and to allow them just to hang freely. She was happy to do so, and I wanked my cock a little longer, staring at Goth Girl's beautiful, half-naked body.

We stayed like this together for a few minutes, me quietly masturbating, she relaxing in the chair, a soft smile on her face. I realised that she was indeed very pretty, and had dazzling blue eyes that one could easily fall in love with. Riding yet another wave towards a climax, I withdrew my hand from my cock and allowed myself to go slightly soft. While I gathered myself with my hands free from my cock, I asked Goth Girl to stand up and come over to me. Again she complied and walked to where I was seated.

"Could I see your cunt?" I asked, my choice of the "c" word deliberate. I prefer this word to "pussy" when I'm aroused, and like to use it occasionally in these rare, erotic situations.

Goth Girl smiled again, looking down at me. "Of course..." she agreed, then tucked her thumb inside her pantyhose and knickers and pulled the two layers of fabric down, exposing her vagina. She was unshaven, and her wispy pubic hair had been dyed the same colour purple as that on her head. 

I complimented her again, on her good aesthetic taste, then politely asked: "Do you mind if I touch it?" "Please do," she replied, inching her tights down a little further to make my access  easier. I licked my middle finger, slowly eased my hand inside her panties, then allowed my finger to search out her lips. I wondered if she would stop me, if this was more than the thirty pounds bought, but as my digit slid into her cunt with ease I suspected Goth Girl was quite happy about the arrangement.

"I'm wet, I know," Goth Girl sighed, before arching her back a little and squeezing her cunt lips tightly around my inserted finger. "But I think that's enough..." she added - with a smile it must be said '...for the both of us." I was in no mood to push my luck, so withdrew my finger and licked her juice from it. 

"Would you like me to take off the tights?" Goth Girl asked next, but as I began to work myself hard again I shook my head.

"Actually, no," I told her. "I like you in your nylons. Could you sit back down again, please? I think I'm ready to cum now..."

She smiled down at me again. "Certainly, sir," she said, as she returned to the armchair and I stood up, tottering onto the unusual high heals. As I walked over to her I noticed that she had positioned herself in the chair, perched on the end, with her hands squeezing her breasts together. She had obviously assumed that I wanted to ejaculate onto her tits, but I desired another landing zone for my cum. She saw me shaking my head as I approached her, a puzzled expression on her face. "Not here?"

"No," I said. "Would you mind if I came on your tights? Between your legs?"

She sighed in approval. "Of course not. Would you like my legs together, or apart?"

"Together," I said, moving my hand faster around my lubricated penis, getting nearer to my climax with every stroke.

I looked down on her as she sat on the edge of the chair, her thighs together, the black nylon of the pantyhose creating a soft dark v-shape, her white knickers just visible beneath the fabric. My erection was at her face height, so as I approached my climax I arched my back forwards, standing on the pointed toes of the red stilettos, angling my penis downwards, aiming into the soft, nylon covered flesh between her legs, stroking ever faster now, squeezing and pulling, stretching the hard, blood and spunk filled cock downwards, towards her, until eventually I came, shooting a stream of hot, white liquid into her lap. One, two, three pumps of creamy cum spurted onto her accepting body. I wasn't totally accurate, and some ejaculate hit her naked belly, but most of it hit the target and began to stain the black nylon as it soaked into the fabric.

"Wow!" Goth Girl gasped as she realised how messy she was, covered in my cum. "That was beautiful..."

I regained my balance, then stepped backwards to the bench seat and sat back down, spent of energy, flushed with hormones, and awash with the floating heaviness of post-ejaculation.

We remained respectfully silent for a few minutes, gathering our thoughts, before I began to undress from the lingerie I had been wearing. I took off the shoes and stockings, vest and panties, and folded them neatly on the bench top. Then stood and looked at my fully naked body in the mirror, my cock getting limp now, but still a slight trace of an erection lingering. I was slightly surprised, though, that Goth Girl seemed in no mood to dress as quickly.

"You okay?" I asked, checking that this lovely girl was. She seemed to be wearing a slightly shy look on her face that I hadn't noticed before.

"Sorry," she said. "It's just that when you put your finger inside me I was surprised how turned on I was. I wasn't intending it to happen, but I think I'd like to come, too. Would you mind of I brought myself off?"

Despite it being less than five minutes since I had ejaculated, I felt my penis twitch and begin to stir again. But I wasn't sure any longer what the boundaries of this scenario were. I blustered nervously. "Oh, I see, I mean...erm...of course not. But...erm...would you like to be alone...I mean...would you like me to go...?" My cock was betraying this bashfulness, even as I spoke, and had already become fully erect again, jutting out in front of me.

Goth Girl merely chuckled, then let out a soft, sensuous sigh. "No, silly, of course I want you to stay. It's just...if you could manage it again so soon, I'd like to reverse the roles, and watch you play with yourself while I masturbate. Would that be okay?"

I'm sure Goth Girl saw me smile in relief, as I leaned back against the mirror and began to jerk off again. The lubricant I'd applied earlier was still sticky on my cock, and I re-activated it fully with some spit from the palm of my hand. I was still surprised by how hard I was, but relaxed into my second wank of the day. After a few strokes, though, I noticed another shy expression on Goth Girl's face.

"You're puzzling me," I told her. She had her hand inside her pants and tights, and seemed content, but I got the feeling she was distracted.

"Sorry," she said, "but I've an idea..."

She stood up and walked over to me, kicked off her pixie boots, then began to undress from her tights and panties until she was also completely naked. I wasn't sure where this was leading, and I briefly wondered if her plan was for some simple bare-naked fucking.

I was wrong. Goth Girl was as into dressing up as I was.

"I told you I wanted to reverse the roles," she said. "And that means everything!"

She bent down to the floor and scooped up her underwear. "Here," she said. "Put them on." Another fissure of excitement passed through me, as I felt the gentle softness of her satin panties amongst the bundle of tights. I began to dress in her garments as she donned my stockings and vest top. Her pants felt tiny and tight around my cock, and her pantyhose were slightly too small, but the damp patch left over from where I had previously ejaculated gave me another exciting tingle. On Goth Girl, my stockings were likewise a little too long, and they hitched up to around her cunt, but the appearance was still divine, especially as the vest top pulled and flattened her large breasts, creating a smooth, firm surface. To complete her transformation into me, she slipped on the crotchless panties before stepping back into her own boots, for height.

"Your stilettos are too big," she reasoned. "But you put them back on, then change places and sit in the armchair like I did."

I was enjoying her instructions, and complied willingly, seating myself in the chair with my legs splayed wide over the arms, my cock thunderously hard again her satin panties, full of blood and cum, my balls tight. The only problem now was that I felt constricted within Goth Girl's tights, so looked at her for instruction. "Just rip'em open," she said, which I did, eagerly, then pulled the panties to one side, freeing myself. I re-engaged stroking my cock as Goth Girl began to finger herself through the crotchless panties, still standing, gazing down at me with a concentrated look on her face.

"Could you come?" she asked, after only a few moments.

I nodded. "Could you?"

"I want to, now," she confessed, then turned around to face the two angled mirrors in the corner of the small changing room. She positioned herself in such a way that her knees were on the bench seats, while her left hand supported her against the wall. Her right hand was furiously stroking her clitoris through the slit panties. With each stroke, I noticed her motions increase in intensity, her body pulsing, and her backside thrusting out towards me. 

"Come here," she instructed. "Stand behind me." She groaned the words out, her voice shaky as she approached her climax. "I want you to come..." she gasped, "...on my starfish. Then..." She groaned again, on the verge of her orgasm. "Then I want you to push your spunk into my arsehole..."

I stood behind her, approaching her backside, the brown circle - the 'starfish' - of her anus exposed between her open cheeks, her face still visible in the mirror, flushed, her breathing deep and erratic. I came close enough so that the tip of my erection was touching her anus, as she rode her self-stimulation like a surfer, cresting each wave as it carried her towards the ultimate shore.

She gasped out one final instruction, barely audible: "Use the same finger you had in my cunt...use it to push your cum into my arse..."

She had barely finished her instruction when I ejaculated onto her anus. There was less cum than before, but still two considerable wads, each hitting her desired target area. The heat from the ejaculate was obviously the final trigger she needed, and her back arched even more, her anus lifting up a fraction towards me, searching for my finger, which slipped easily into her, lubricated by the sticky cum. She bucked visibly at the moment of digital insertion, then squeezed the muscles of her sphincter tightly around my finger - tighter than her cunt had squeezed previously - as she bucked one final time, and gasping loudly as she came, her body shaking and tensing as she rode the orgasmic waves of pleasure.

I remained still for a few minutes, my finger wrapped in the soft warmth of her anus, as she came down from her high, my penis losing its rigidity, becoming flaccid, all strength gone. Eventually, Goth Girl gently pushed and my finger slipped out, and together we shuffled around to face each other. "Thank you," she said, softly. I blushed slightly, I'm sure. She had nothing to thank me for.

"Likewise," I said, as I returned to the armchair and began to undress. 

"Just chuck'em in the bin," Goth Girl said, staring at her ripped open tights in my hands. "I'll take something off the racks."

I smiled, and guessed that she knew what was coming next. "Do you mind if I keep them?" I asked. "As a souvenir..."

"Of course not," she said. "Keep'em. Oh, and one more thing..." She reached down onto the carpet where she had put the thirty pounds cash I had paid her earlier, picked it up and gave it back to me. "I can't take this now," she said. "I'd feel like you were paying me twice!"

I smiled, unsure whether to take it from her. 

"It's okay," she insisted. "I have no problem being paid for sex, but today I didn't feel like a whore."

I took the money and returned it to my wallet, then began to dress in my business suit as Goth Girl wiped my stockings on her anus, removing the last dribbles of semen, before handing them back to me.

"I'm not sure you even actually paid for these, in the end, did you?" she said, smiling. I realised I hadn't, then gave her my best knowing wink. "I mean, I should bring them back, anyway," I joked.

"They're a little bit shop soiled, after all."