I must say that after five years of marriage to Rachael, the sexually alluring woman of my dreams, we had moved from the passionate yearning of our early years to a relationship that had become too comfortable. On the rare occasions we had sex, it lacked the spark and inspiration that once was and, frankly, I was getting the seven year itch two years early. One evening, when we were both feeling relaxed and loving, I sat down with Rachael and told her that I wanted to put the fire back into our sexuality. I was relieved when she said that she was feeling pretty restless herself, and was eager to put some zing back in our marriage. The question was, how?

“We could both have affairs,” Rachael suggest ambivalently.

“No way,” I said. “You’re my woman and I plan on keeping it that way.” That seemed to make her pretty happy. She snuggled up close to me and we put our heads together and tried to find a way out of this lull.

What I truly wanted was the spontaneity and thrill of meeting someone new and being so overwhelmed by a powerful and mutual sexual attraction that lovemaking came quickly and easily. No questions, no hesitations, no holding back.

“It would be like before we were married,” Rachael said, warming to the idea. “But how do we do that and remain monogamous?”

How indeed? It seemed insoluble. Monogamy was important, freshness crucial. For the time being we put aside the idea as being unrealistic, if not impossible. Time passed, and soon the holidays were upon us and New Year’s Eve right around the corner. We were invited to a masquerade benefit, and my only thought was how to find enough time to buy a costume. I’m an investment broker in New York City, and I’d been so overwhelmed with work that free time was at a premium.

The night of the party, I still didn’t have a costume and even though it was Saturday, I was at the office. I considered calling Rachael and telling her that I wasn’t going, but I knew I’d hurt her feelings. I’d been so busy all Christmas week. She’d been very excited about the party, although she wouldn’t ell me what she was going to wear. “It’s a little surprise” was all I could get out of her. In the end I told her that I’d pick up a costume on my way to the party, and that we’d meet there.

Of course, in Manhattan you can find anything, anytime. I quickly scoured a few clothing stores in the Village and finally came up with something I thought was both witty and somehow reflective of a part of me I don’t often get a chance to express. I bought a cowboy outfit replete with pointed leather boots, tight black shirt and vest and fake long barreled six shooter.

By the time I got to the party, it was in full swing. It was held in a loft in Soho, and walking through the crowd was like moving through a veritable living room of human history. Victorian madams, swashbuckling pirates, a dominatrice and her slave, and an old Father Time.

I started looking for Rachael, but I had no idea what she was wearing. Suddenly my eye caught sight of a ravishing, raven haired senorita in a full, brightly colored skirt and a billowy blouse pulled low over each shoulder. The sight of this lovely beauty sent chills up my spine. She was at the far end of the loft and only half turned toward me, so I really couldn’t see her fully in the jostling crowd.

I had started to pull myself away from her when she turned toward me and I realized that this was Rachael! My own blonde, somewhat reserved Rachael transformed into a tempting, lusty Latin beauty.

Our conversation about spontaneity and new partners suddenly came hurtling down on me. Was Rachael using the party as a means of fulfilling for both of us an imaginative sexual fantasy? Would she play the game full out, pretending that I was a stranger? It would be easy enough for me she hardly looked like the Rachael I knew.

The idea of unleashing my growing passion on someone new yet familiar was tantalizing. Playing the role of a tough Western gunslinger, fresh in town and eager for the soft comforts of a sweet young thing, I cinched up my pants and moved toward this delectable eyeful.

“Evening, ma’am,” I said when I stood next to her. “You’re a right purty sight to these sore eyes.” You could say I was easing into the role.

Rachael turned to me. Black hair cascaded down her shoulders in wild and sexy curls. The line of her bare shoulder and long neck was oh so sleek, and her breasts were pushed high on her chest, giving a generous view of her cleavage. She was so alluring, so tempting, and so unlike Rachael.

“May I buy the senorita a drink?” I asked.

“You may,” she said, faking a Spanish accent, and with that she looked me up and down with her dark eyes, a coy smile forming on her face.

We walked over to the bar and I ordered us each a margarita. We eyed each other for the longest time, and there was no question about the chemistry between us. It was hot. I told her I was new in these parts and that I’d been on the prairie alone for over a month.

“You must be lonely,” she said. “I don’t like to see a man be lonely. Especially such a good looking one.”

With that I pulled her to me and, pushing my pelvis into hers, brought my mouth close to her ear. “I won’t beat around the bush, lady. I want you.” I gently traced the delicate line of her neck with my lips until I was kissing her smooth, round shoulder.

“Follow me,” she said. I imagined her taking me through the saloon up to her private room on the second or third floor. In actuality we slipped through the crowd into the far reaches of the loft until we found a small, empty bedroom.

Once inside, she locked the door and leaned against it, staring at me with passion inflamed eyes, her breathing heavy, her pushed up bosom swelling and receding, swelling and receding. I stood in front of a woman who was not my wife by Senorita Racquel, an exotic beauty whose soaring passion ignited a flame in my loins. This was my dream come true. Quick, hot, impassioned sex with a stranger.

“Come to me,” she said in a husky voice. I pressed my body against hers and unleashed my lust. I buried my face in her neck and breathed in the scent of perfume combined with the sweet smell of her flesh. I wrapped my hands around her tiny waist and pressed my hard cock against her thigh. Looking down, I dearly enjoyed the sight of her fleshy breasts, and when she reached into her blouse and lifted one of her breasts out, offering me its hard nipple, I took it in my mouth with abandon. I held her heavy breast in my hand and sucked and licked greedily, feeling as if I truly had been in the parched desert for over a month, my right hand my only trusty companion. In reality, I had been cooped up in my office, going over a mountain of paperwork.

“Quickly,” she whispered. “Before somebody comes.” Obviously this wasn’t to be lingering, luxurious lovemaking, but a quick, powerful fuck, something neither of us had enjoyed in a long time.

I reached up under her skirt and felt the soft, warm flesh of her thighs. Taking hold of her panties, I slipped them down and off, unbuckled my six shooter and let it fall to the floor. Senorita Racquel had the honor of unbuttoning my pants and freeing my rigid cock.

“Oh, so big,” she whispered. She fondled my cock with her petite hands, running her fingers up and down the shaft and over the cockhead. My cock quivered, my heart pounded and, fearing that someone might interrupt us, I plunged forward.

The senorita held her skirt high while I took hold of her lovely asscheeks and rested the head of my cock against her moist pussy. I slid in easily, gently, first just the tip of my cock. I moved my knobby cockhead in and out of her, teasing her, getting her moist all around her labia, driving her passion over the top.

“Don’t tease me, cowboy,” she whispered. Taking my asscheeks in her hands, she pulled me toward her and my cock plunged deep in her tight pussy.

I pulled out all the stops, plunging and pumping while my dark haired beauty held on to me for dear life, moaning with every thrust. The circumstances being what they were, and us afraid of getting caught, our pleasure soared to a peak of sexual passion we’d never before experienced.

The senorita came first, a series of small, convulsive flashes that swept through her like wildfire. Then I came, one big surge of energy that shot out of my cock and filled her pussy with my seed. I held her for a moment, my face against hers, and felt our burning passion subside, our love grow.

We dressed, joined the party and danced the night away. Later, I took my senorita home and we made love until the rising sun gently put us to sleep. With the first impromptu experiment in costumed fantasy, we discovered the answer to a dream. By letting go of our real and comfortable identities and taking on others, we could make believe that we attracted, pursued, and were ravaged by someone new.

As it turned out, I worked another hard week, then collapsed. I spent two days doing nothing but sleeping. On the third morning, a Saturday, I woke up around noon to find the house unusually quiet. I called out to Rachael, but there was no answer. I figured that she was out shopping.

I lay in bed and watched cartoons, wondering if I wanted to get up or not. Then I heard the door open.

“Rachael?” I called out. Still no answer. I was about to climb out of bed when my wife appeared, carrying a breakfast tray and wearing a nurse’s uniform!

“Get right back into bed, sir,” she said in a gentle yet demanding tone. “You’re not to get out of bed at all today. Doctor’s orders. You just let Nurse Roxanne take care of you.”

Nurse Roxanne! I nearly burst out laughing, but I managed to control myself. After all, I didn’t want to break the illusion. And I have to admit Rachael’s timing was perfect. After so much time in bed, my energy was back on par and I was ready for some intimate entertainment.

I watched as my “nurse” laid out my breakfast on the night table. I didn’t know where she had gotten the uniform, but it fit like a tight glove. Her braless breasts were literally straining against the tightly buttoned fabric, and when she leaned over to pick up a pillow I’d tossed on the floor, her thigh length skirt crept up and up until I could see her bare white ass and lovely blonde bush.

I moved the blankets around to disguise my growing cock, and lay back on my pillows. “I’m not hungry,” I said.

Nurse Roxanne looked at me with sad, soft eyes. “Not hungry?” she said. “But we’ve got to get your strength up.” Then she knelt on the bed and leaned over my face to fluff up my pillows. Her luscious breasts hovered just inches I front of my face, making my cock swell to a full erection in seconds.

“I think my strength is up,” I said.

“I think I know what our patient needs today,” she said. “A little special treatment only Nursie can supply.”

With that she unbuttoned her blouse and exposed her full, fleshy bosom. I looked at her tits as if for the first time, savoring the sight of their heaviness, the large pink areolas and hard, round nipples. Without a word I sucked on a tit, taking her nipple deep in my mouth, taking as much flesh as possible and sucking, sucking. When I reached out and held her breast in my hand, I felt a warm rush of heightened pleasure sweep through me, as if I were sucking on these breasts for the first time.

“That’s good,” she said while I continued to suck, twirling my tongue around and around her areola, nibbling gently on hr thick nipple. “That’s real good,” she sighed as I kneaded her ample flesh and massaged her nipples between my fingers.

Pretty soon Nurse Roxanne pulled back the sheet and revealed my throbbing hard on. “Oh dear,” she squeaked. “Look what you’ve done. We can’t have this.” Without hesitation she took the base of my shaft between her delicate fingers and took my cock between her wet lips, smothering my shaft with wet sensation. While she ran her tongue up and down my shaft and sucked deeply on my cock, I just lay back and enjoyed the sight of her bare ass and glistening pussy. Her hot lips and tongue were so adroit, so skilled at pleasuring cock. I basked in her deep sucking, long, luxurious licking and gentle massaging.

Finally she looked up at me and whispered, “Nursie’s all hot. Would you mind it if I straddled your big cock and cooled myself off?”

“Not at all,” I said, enjoying her role as a teasing floozy.

Nurse Roxanne straddled my body, easing my cock deep into her in one fell swoop. With her big tits flying, she rode me steadily, moving up and down on my shaft with forceful, mind blowing movements. I brought my hands up and fondled her soft breasts while she fingered her clit. Before long she was bucking wildly, her body contorting as a powerful orgasm overwhelmed her.

Once her pleasure had subsided, I asked her to get on all fours, then lifted her skirt up and took her from behind. I held onto her flanks and pumped her to my heart’s desire. Below me Nurse Roxanne moaned with increasing intensity.

When she lowered her upper body to the bed, I pressed my weight against her, nuzzled my face I her neck, held onto her and came in a shuddering, heart stopping, thunderous orgasm that filled the room with my cries and her pussy with my come. Again and again I plunged deep into her vagina, letting loose every once of fluid I had, until finally, drained, I lay down beside her in a happy, satiated heap.

“Thanks, Nursie,” I said, once I’d regained my composure.

“My pleasure,” she said as she got up off of the bed. Then she left the apartment. About fifteen minutes later, Rachael returned, dressed in sweatpants and a t shirt, and asked me very sweetly how I was feeling.

“Great,” I said.

She lay down beside me and we held each other for the longest time. Neither of us mentioned the fantasy it would have broken the spell. But I know we both felt closer because of it. These games have really added an element of surprise and fun to our relationship. Fun is probably the key word.

As for me, I’m just trying to think of a good role to play next time. Should it be a truck driver, to give my lady the ride of her life, or a fireman, to quench the burning fire of her desire?

As I looked up, with this spectacular woman filling my gaze, I realized I sure wasn’t in Kansas anymore. I felt as if I’d just stepped from black and white into the Technicolor of the Land of Oz. I had just arrived in the Greenwich Village section of New York City to visit the studio of my famous painter friend, Jan. I’d come all the way from the small college in Kansas where I was studying art in the hope that this great man would let me watch him work. I was willing to sweep up, run errands, whatever it took.

His paintings were swirling phantasmagorias of eroticism, rich with dark, spectacular hues and daring, lavish images of powerful sexuality.

The female model he was painting now was extravagantly beautiful and voluptuous. She stood, motionless, on the platform in front of his easel, with darkness behind her and small theatrical spotlights casting shafts of red and blue and magenta onto her flesh.

She wasn’t completely nude Jan rarely painted nudes but the bizarre garments she wore made her look far more sensual than she would have had her skin been bare.

The model was tall and slender, her ebony hair long and full, her skin the color of alabaster. She had the long, strong legs of a dancer. Her breasts were full and firm and cast wonderful shadows in the valley between them and on her smooth white belly. Her eyes were large and the most wonderful shade of deep lavender.

She was spectacular but the fanciful things she wore made her seem even more provocative. On her breasts, covering one nipple and leaving its twin exposed, were two golden lizards bejeweled with sparkling stones of scarlet and deep green. The lizard that slithered across her left breast was the smaller of the two the larger flicked out its golden tongue to curl it around her exposed right nipple, which was dark red, almost like a wound, in this exotic lighting.

On her navel glittered a huge, blood red ruby, and her fingers culminated in scarlet nails almost two inches long. One hand held a strange sort of object, half magic wand, half weapon, which was in the shape of a thick black shaft and which culminated in the bejeweled head of a dragon: its mouth open, its silver teeth like tiny, slender daggers, its forked tongue scarlet. From its head black feathers splayed in a crest. A long, slender serpent made of flexible plates of thin gold wrapped itself around one leg, starting at her ankle and coiling up and around to encircle her thighs. Her pubic bush was furry and black and glistening and completely exposed, and the snake’s beady black eyes glared at it as though the snake were ready to slither into the pink slit buried in the fur. The serpent’s long silver tongue reached out to tease her lustrous bush.

My gaze rose gingerly to her face, and when it did, she was looking right at me, her gaze burning directly into my soul. Slowly, very slowly, she opened her mouth, as though she were teasingly inviting a lover’s cock, and in her mouth, glistening in the theatrical lighting, was a glowing emerald the size of a small egg.

I knew the emerald wasn’t real, or the ruby. These were all theatrical props and costume pieces. It was all a gloriously erotic illusion. Back at college I’d done a term paper on the use of costumes and props in portrait painting. I was well aware that painters used these sorts of things to become masters of illusion.

But it wasn’t until that moment, when I was surrounded by the smells of oil paint and turpentine and gazing up at Jan’s live model, that I had my first hint of how powerful the illusion provided by erotic attire can be in sexuality, how costumes and props can transport us to amazing heights. But at that moment, my cock, I suddenly realized, was straining in my jeans, feeling bigger and harder than it ever had before.

Jan called a halt to the session, and the model disappeared into the back of the studio. I was so grateful that this great painter was taking me in like this and letting me learn the ropes by watching him work. He was a little gnome of a man, pink cheeked, white bearded and always smiling. I’ll always be grateful to him for how comfortable he made me feel in the big city art world, and for how much I learned about from him. I’ll also be grateful for some things he’ll never know about.

That afternoon I rented a furnished room in Greenwich Village, the New York neighborhood where lots of artists hang out. Late that night I went to a nearby laundromat that’s open twenty four hours the clothes I’d worn on the bus from Kansas needed a good wash. The place was deserted except for one young woman sitting in front of the dryers and reading a magazine. She wore no makeup, and I couldn’t really tell about her figure because she had on a baggy t shirt over jeans. Her long black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and on her head was a Mets baseball cap.

She looked up and smiled. “Oh, hi,” she said. “You’re the artist who’s going to be working with Jan, aren’t you?” Well, I’d never been called an artist before though I’d been called an “art student” plenty of times. I’m afraid I blushed a little.

“Yes,” I said, smiling back, a bit mystified. “How did you know?”

She grinned. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

All of a sudden I did. I opened my mouth in surprise. “You’re. . . you’re his model. I saw you today.”

“I’m Magdalia,” she said, extending her hand, and I told her my name. I also wanted to tell her how beautiful I thought she’d been, and how much I’d been turned on. But I didn’t not right then, anyway. We got to talking as my clothes washed and hers dried, and then she waited for me until I was done. We really hit it off, and we told each other all kinds of things about ourselves as we strolled through the quiet, winding streets of Greenwich Village.

Finally we stopped, under the golden light of a streetlight near the Hudson River. She moved close to me, and I could feel the warmth of her face on mine as she whispered, “You haven’t mentioned how I looked today in the studio.”

“I . . . you were beautiful,” I stammered.

“I saw the way you were looking at me. You were turned on,” she murmured. “Just a little?”

“More than a little,” I said as her lips brushed against mine like a butterfly caressing a flower. Then her tongue met mine, and our lips seemed to acquire a life of their own as our kiss deepened. My cock was almost immediately hard, and I could tell that she was well aware of it against her body as we embraced.

“Would you like to see me looking like that again?” she whispered.

“You mean tomorrow, when . . . ?”

She laughed. “No, silly. I mean tonight. Right now. I have a key to the studio. He has the most amazing collection of costumes and props.”

My heart thudded in my chest as she stepped out of the darkness. Candles blazed in the comfortable back room of the studio and were reflected in the gold and jewels of the exotic costume she wore. She had seemed so far away the first time I’d seen her, in another world of dreams and illusions. But now I could reach out and touch her. I ran my hands through her long ebony hair, which was free now and flowing down over her white shoulders, as she helped me take off my shirt and slip out of my jeans and sneakers. I stood naked and hard before this magnificently exotic sexual creature.

Her nails were again long and scarlet, as they’d been earlier in the day. And her eyes were lavender again, and I realized that she was wearing colored contacts. Inviting pools of illusion were her eyes, drawing me into depths I’d never known before. I was ready to plunge.

Magdalia leaned forward, and our lips met again and our tongues teased each other. Her breasts pushed against my bare chest, and I felt the cool metal of the two bejeweled lizards that slithered across her full breasts. One lizard covered her left nipple, but the right nipple was exposed, the bejeweled reptile curling around it.

She brushed her nipple against my chest. It was warm and tantalizing in contrast to the cool gemstones and gold. Her nails slid across my chest, teasing my nipples, and her hands brushed against my upstanding cock, the long, scarlet nails now gently raking my balls and moving all the way up my tingling, throbbing shaft to its bulging head.

I looked down at her hands and my cock, and the sight of her blood red talons against the purple of my swollen cock was enormously exciting as she stroked and teased. She slowly drew her crimson nails up my flanks, sending waves of sexual electricity through my entire body.

My hands were on Magdalia’s breasts, sliding over the golden lizards with their sparkling gemstones, cupping the fullness of her large, creamy mounds, my palms softly rubbing her one exposed nipple, which was already swollen and dark pink against her milky skin. She gasped as my fingers plucked at its fullness, tenderly pinching it, rolling it between my forefinger and thumb.

Then I let my hands move slowly down the smoothness of her body, across her thighs and around behind her to cup her round, firm bottom in both hands. I pulled her to me, the glistening black fur of her bush a soft haven for the throbbing shaft of my erect penis. The golden snake that coiled up her leg and encircled her bush pushed against my leg, almost like a demonic serpent guarding a treasure to be found in the warm cave within.

Sex like that was something I’d never thought about those wild, sensual images and I loved it. I was learning that there’s so much more to sex than the physical. There’s magic, and illusion, and sex can be a game, with the participants making up the rules as they go along.

I didn’t see her pick it up, but suddenly in her hand was the strange object she’d held when she was posing, half wand, half weapon. She held it up in front of my face and moved it slowly back and forth. The dragon’s mouth was open, its tiny silver teeth menacing me, its scarlet tongue seeming to threaten me.

Magdalia moved to the huge leather couch and lay back on its softness, her legs open wide, inviting me to explore the cave guarded by the serpent. With the dragon headed wand, she reached out and touched my own wand, which was hard and pulsing now with growing passion. She caressed it with the black feathers on the dragon’s head, moving them softly against the heavy sac that held my balls. And beckoning me closer and closer. The scarlet tongued dragon would help me vanquish the serpent that stood guard.

My cock moved closer and closer to her nearly hidden pink lips, brushed against the midnight black of her bush, touched the warm wetness of her secret cave. The dragon wand urged me on her yearning moans urged me on.

I knelt on the floor before the leather sofa and slid my cock into her, slowly at first, then deep and hard as she cried out. She handed me the wand and gasped, “The feathers, use the feathers.” With the feathered wand, I caressed her breasts: around the top of each one, along their sides and across the one exposed nipple, which was a swollen red plum now as her passion grew.

Deep and hard I moved into her, and she was hot and wet. And tight. Like a strong hand gripping me, but slick and smooth too, as my whole body entered into my fierce, unrelenting plunging.

Her hips rose to meet my thrusts, higher, harder, as I drove myself into her, gripping the dragon wand, moving its feathers across her skin, nipping her once or twice with the dragon’s teeth as she gasped in ecstasy. With a flick of her fingers, she opened a golden clasp between her breasts and the golden lizards fell away, vanquished by passion.

Both nipples were mine now, and I dropped the dragon and leaned forward to push her heavy breasts together so that I could suck both swollen nipples into my mouth, tonguing them, nibbling them.

Her body tightened and lurched upward to me as orgasm flooded through her, and I felt my own explosion beginning more intense, hotter than anything I’d ever felt. I hadn’t seen her put it in place, but as I came, she opened her mouth and the egg size emerald appeared, the one she’d had there when she was posing. As my juices erupted, the emerald popped out to nestle in the soft valley between her breasts, glistening wetly.

She held me tight, and I sank down onto her in exhaustion, my face only an inch from the ruby eyes and silver teeth of the dragon wand. Its scarlet tongue reached out toward my face.

Next day I swept out Jan’s studio, ran a couple of errands and helped him mix paints on the enormous palette he used. And of course I watched him paint the erotic and mysterious Magdalia as she posed in the shafts of colored light while wearing the adornments I’d come to know so well the night before. As sated as I was from a long night of sex, I was still turned on by the vision before me.

After Jan left, we were like little apprentices turned loose in the master’s magic shop. In the dark of the night, surrounded by the glow of candles, we both tried on leather and lace, fur and fabrics smooth and rough, silky and see through. As exciting as it was to see and caress Magdalia in each costume she put on, my own dressing up was equally thrilling. I was pleasantly shocked by how much it turned me on.

By the time we decided on the costumes for that night’s bacchanalia, we were laughing with delight, our imaginations ready for the game, our bodies hot. Magdalia wore a black merry widow made of almost transparent black lace. It was cut high at the sides to show off her long, slim legs, and the top was cut low enough to allow her dark pink nipples to peek at me over the edge. At the crotch was a slit, so that the soft black fur of her bush was framed by silky raven lace. Stretch lace gloves, inky black, reached to above her elbows.

The outfit I wore was black too she had wrapped my legs in soft strips of leather so that I was encased in them all the way up to my waist, with an opening at the crotch so that my cock and balls jutted out into the open air. I was hard already just from the sight of the resplendent Magdalia, and from the feel of the smooth leather shifting on my skin as I moved. We both feasted our eyes before we touched, drinking in the erotic mirages before us like droughts of a spicy aphrodisiac.

Our lips met in a long, wet, sweet kiss that slowly grew hotter and more urgent and demanding. She moved her breasts against my bare chest, and I felt the wispy texture of the silky merry widow right below her softly puffed out nipples, which were already swelling with desire.

She swayed from side to side, rubbing her nipples against my own and sending zaps of sensual electricity through my body. I encircled her waist with my hands and gazed down at her nipples. They were gorgeous, peeking out, dark pink, over the edge of the ebony merry widow as though they were teasing me and would flee to safety at any moment.

As I moved my thighs against hers, I felt the smooth leather wrappings rub against my legs, warm and soft, like bondage restraints, focusing all my energy below my waist and into my throbbing cock and tingling balls. I shifted back and forth, moving my hard shaft against the softness of the silk she wore, and then my cock found her bush, with its texture of warm fur, and moved back and forth against it.

Magdalia caressed my back and shoulders and chest with the silky seductiveness of the long gloves she wore, trailing her fingertips across my nipples as I cried out with pleasure.

As I held her tightly around her waist, she stretched her arms up over her head and her full breasts popped free of the merry widow. They lay now on top of the garment like ripe melons on display.

I sank my face into their warmth, kissing and licking the deep, soft cleft between them, holding them in my hands, caressing them with the soft leather of the gloves I wore. I gently pinched them with my fingertips, pushing them together so I could flick my tongue back and forth from one swollen nipple to the other as she tilted her head back and muffled a scream with the back of one gloved hand.

She leaned back and opened her legs. As I thrust forward, my cock found the entrance to her soft, slick cave of sensual delight. It was wet and smooth, ready to take me immediately and all the way, and I plunged into her, raising her off her feet. Her screams weren’t muffled anymore as she wrapped her legs around me while my hands held tightly to her silky bottom.

My cock lunged upward, ramming as deep as it could go, as she tightened the muscles of her pussy as though she’d never let go. We were swaying back and forth, my face buried in the sweet pillows of her breasts, my cock driving and thrusting, her pussy grasping it, massaging it, taking it deep into the very sensual center of her.

We were like one delightfully mad animal, gasping and moaning, as we came together in an explosion of sexual power. It was like being in the very center of a starburst of fireworks, hot and sparkling million hued.

My legs almost gave way, and I stumbled to the gigantic leather couch, where we both tumbled down in a tangle of arms and legs and spent passion. We rested, we sipped wine, we whispered secrets to each other.

As the sounds of the city receded into the blackness of the night, Magdalia leaned over and touched the inside of my ear with the tip of her tongue. Then she said, “Remember that fur trimmed teddy I tried on earlier?”

“Indeed I do,” I murmured.

“Should I try it on again?”

“Indeed you should.”

I think the fact that my cock was suddenly swelling again convinced her that I was very serious.

Jan was another two weeks finishing the painting, and Magdalia and I took full advantage of our time together on the playground of his collection of erotic garments. It was an introduction for both of us to the ecstasy of costume sex.

We still see each other occasionally, Magdalia and I, and we’re never at a loss as to how to add blissful eroticism to our nights. I’ve been delighted to learn that almost every woman I become involved with is more than willing to experiment. Over my mantel is a print of the painting Jan did of Magdalia, and the reaction a woman has to that painting is a good indication of how willing she’ll be.

From my friend Jan I learned so much about color and form and the art of the painter, and from Magdalia I learned that because we are human, we do sex not with just our bodies, but with our minds and imaginations as well.

Lingerie is a word I had no use for, at least, not until my girlfriend showed me that you can mix something simple like denim with something fancy like lace and come up with the ingredients for an evening of passionate lovemaking.

I play fiddle with a country and western band that tours the taverns around here in Kentucky. One night we were in a hole in the wall gin mill when I noticed a stunning blonde occupying a stool at the end of the bar. She was wearing a sleeveless mini dress made out of blue jean material. Now that’s my kind of girl, I thought, especially when I realized that the top two buttons on her dress were undone, revealing a little pink satin and nice round breasts. So I cleared my throat and introduced myself.

Her name was Pam, she said, and when I looked into her pale blue eyes, I knew then and there that we would be spending some time at my place. I bought her a drink and she gave me her phone number. The next day, I called her and, since she seemed pleased to hear from me, I asked her out.

We had a great time that night. I took her to a movie, and then we went dancing. Pam wore the tightest jeans I’ve ever seen they were practically painted onto her. She also wore cowboy boots and a flannel shirt, the same as me. Little did I know she had a fancier outfit on underneath!

After midnight we were back at my place. I offered her a beer. She sat on the sofa and asked me whether I minded if she took her boots off. “My feet are killing me,” she said. I told her to allow me.

I pulled off her boots, and underneath she was wearing these flimsy little socks. They were like stockings, only they stopped at her ankles, where there was a band of ruffly lace. I must have been staring, because she said, “Do you like these? I got them through the mail from a place in Beverly Hills.”

“They’re very nice,” I said, my cock coming to life in my shorts.

“I love to buy frilly things. I get them from allover. I must get five or six catalogs every month.” She slipped out of the little stockings. “Here, feel how soft they are.” I gingerly fondled them between my fingers.

“You like denim, too, though,” I said. “Last night you were wearing a dress made out of it. ”

“Yeah,” she said, taking a swig of her beer, “I like both and wear them in combination. I anticipate the expression on a guy’s face when he pulls my jeans down to see that I’m wearing delicate little see through panties.”

I just stood there, amazed by what she had just said. My dick hardened so fast, it must have made a noise. She went on, “Look at what I’ve got on underneath my shirt do you mind?”

Pam had a mischievous look in her eye that told me this would be a night to remember. I simply nodded my assent as she began unbuttoning her shirt. When she pulled it off, she was wearing this sort of t shirt, only it was just a filmy swatch of white lace hanging from two strings over her shoulders. I could see her large red nipples right through the little designs of roses. The room was getting very hot.

“This is called a camisole,” Pam explained. “It cost thirty dollars. Can you believe it?” I said I could. Then she said she had to go to the bathroom. I watched, mesmerized, as she sauntered past me wearing nothing but tight jeans and this camisole thing, which showed every jiggle of her beautiful breasts.

When she carne out a few minutes later, the top button of her jeans was undone. I decided to go for it. “So, do I get to see what you’ve got on under those jeans?”

Pam smiled and lay down on the couch. “You sure do. I thought you’d never ask. ” I sat down beside her and took one of her cool, smooth feet in my hand. I slid my fingers under the cuff of her jeans, feeling her leg as far up as I could go. I watched silently as she slowly unzipped her jeans. Then she lifted her ass off the cushions and pushed her pants below her hips. I took over from there and slid them off her long legs.

A moment later her jeans were on the floor, and though she was wearing underwear, my eyes were riveted to her pussy, because the panties she had on were as transparent as glass. They were white, like her camisole, with the same little rose pattern. I figured they must have come in a matchbox.

“Look closer,” Pam said. As I moved in close, I caught a whiff of her, and it was heavenly. My trembling hands reached out and softly stroked her luscious thighs. I lowered my mouth to the material and started to lick her blonde muff through the lace. She squealed in delight and wrapped her legs around my back.

As nice as it was to lick her through her panties, I wanted to get to the real thing. I noticed that they were held together by a little bow at her hip, so I tugged at it, and the panties fell away just like that. I now had unobstructed access to Pam’s delectable little cunt, so I dove in and tongued her until she was screaming.

After she came, she urged me to suck her tits. First I sucked them through the material, holding their weight in my large hands. Then she sat up a bit and pulled the camisole off with a little giggle. But she stopped laughing when she realized that I was taking my clothes off. I don’t like to brag, but I’ve got a pretty good body from my days setting fence posts. I could tell she liked my chest, because as soon as my shirt was off, her hands were all over it, rubbing my pecs, going for my nipples and feeling my biceps. She crushed her own soft chest up against mine, and then we were locked in a kiss that nearly spun my head around.

Pam finally broke the kiss after what seemed like a week and whispered in my ear, “I want to suck your cock.” She loosened my belt, pulled down my jeans, reached inside my underwear and pulled out my penis. Her eyes lit up at the sight of it hard. “This ought to taste good,” she said. Then Pam slid her warm mouth down on top of it, swirling her tongue, and I hollered with happiness.

“Hot damn,” I managed to croak out, “you give a mean blowjob.” She started giggling but quickly got back to business, slurping at it and licking my cock to the root. Teasingly she played with my balls, and pretty soon I knew I was going to come. I told her so, but she kept on sucking, and before long I shot off in her mouth. Pam swallowed all but a little, which trickled down her chin. She scooped up this bit of semen with her finger and lapped it up. This was truly a wild woman.

“How soon do you reckon that thing’ll be ready again?” she laughed. “‘Cause I want you to fuck me hard.” “No time at all, ma’am,” I was telling her as I started to climb between her legs and fill her up with cock. But she stopped me and quickly collected her underthings. Sliding back into them, she said, “I like to fuck when I’m all dolled up like this do you mind?”

I would gladly have fucked her had she been wearing a gorilla suit, but I must admit that this girl looked extremely fine in that fancy underwear. I’ve seen pictures of it, but never before had a woman I’d been with worn stuff like this. It certainly met with my approval.

We screwed like wild animals. We started out with me on top, driving into her full strength. I had pushed aside the panties so I could slip inside her, and I felt the soft lace rubbing against the shaft of my cock. Before long we were off the couch, but I didn’t miss a stroke, and now she was on top of me, bouncing up and down like a cowgirl on a steer.

We rolled around on the floor a bit, and eventually Pam was on her stomach. Her perfect ass was right there for my viewing pleasure, encased in that filmy nylon. This time I peeled her underwear down below her cheeks and began to thrust in and out of her like a demon. When I came I pulled out and sprayed it all over her bunched up panties. She liked that, and I was beginning to think this underwear thing was great fun. Naturally, I asked her if we could see each other again.

She said we could see each other the very next night. I lay on the floor, exhausted, watching her slide her old blue jeans back on.

The following evening, I picked her up and we went dancing again. She wore a flared denim miniskirt and a black blouse embroidered with rhinestones. Nothing particularly flashy about that, but she was also wearing fire engine red high heeled shoes and black fishnet stockings. And as we rode in my pickup to the dance club, she gave me a tantalizing peek at what she had on underneath. Beneath her blouse I could make out a red bra trimmed in black. When I helped her out of the truck, I saw that beneath her skirt were panties of the same color. I also noticed that her stockings were held up by red garters a clothing item that was new to me! Obviously the key colors of the evening would be red and black.

All eyes were on Pam in the club. When she did a twirl, her miniskirt would fan out around her, revealing her garters for all to see. I couldn’t believe my luck I was with the most beautiful girl in the room and she was dressed to kill. I felt even luckier when she sidled up to me and said that she wanted to go home to do some “horizontal dancing.”

This time we went to her place. She showed me to the refrigerator, which was full of beer, and excused herself, saying that she was going to slip into something more comfortable. I could feel my cock inflating like a pool toy. I couldn’t begin to imagine what she would walk out wearing. So I flopped down on the couch, popped open my beer and waited for the show.

A few moments later, I looked up, and she was posing in the doorway of her bedroom. Her skirt, blouse and shoes were gone, but she still had the stockings on and had added to her ensemble a shiny red kimono. “Like what you see?” she asked.

“I certainly do,” I answered, noticing as I did so that she also had on black lace gloves up to the elbows with the fingers cut off.

Pam extended a hand for me to kiss. “Then come and unwrap your present,” she said.

Standing and walking were difficult, my cock was so stiff. I alleviated this problem by dropping my pants right there. By the time I reached her bedroom, I didn’t have a stitch of clothing on. My eager cock pointed the way.

I took her in my arms, the lace gloves tickling my butt as she caressed me. My prick brushed up against her silky kimono, and sparks of desire shot up my spine and exploded in my brain. Pam had lit candles in her room and put on some soft music. The only thing left to do was fuck.

The first thing I wanted to do was to examine her body in great detail. I slipped the robe gently off Pam’s shoulders and got my first good look at this evening’s underwear. Her bra was indeed bright red and trimmed in black, and her panties were the same. As we arranged ourselves in a sixty nine, I suddenly realized that I wouldn’t have to move any material aside to get at her pussy, for there was a conveniently placed slit in the panties that opened as she parted her legs. “I got these from an erotic boutique in New York City,” she informed me. “This ought to make it a little easier. ”

Indeed it did! I buried my face in Pam’s crotch as she slipped my cock into her mouth. We ate each other frantically, seemingly in a race to see who could make the other come first. We finished in a dead heat, for I shot my load all over her face while she whimpered in orgasmic delight.

We lay together in that great after come euphoria until my cock started rising again. I rolled on top of Pam and slid it in with one quick thrust. She grunted with pleasure and wrapped her stockinged legs around me, rubbing her silky feet up and down on my ass and the backs of my legs. I was in heaven! I almost felt a little sad, as I wondered if all sex after this night would be a disappointment. I fucked Pam in this fashion for a good long while until she came once more, her fingers digging into my shoulders. Then she said she wanted to try an experiment with me.

With me on my back, my cock pointing toward the North Star, Pam straddled me and began lowering herself. Only this time my cock didn’t enter her cunt it slid into her asshole. I had read about this but had never tried it, thinking that any girl I suggested it to would slap my face. But Pam said, “I love this. I love it.” So there I was, my throbbing erection buried
in her tight back door and Pam shinnying up and down it while squirming, moaning and grimacing. All the while, she was rubbing her fancy underwear against my flesh. I reached under her bra and grabbed her heaving breasts. I liked the way she looked with her tits swinging free underneath the bright red bra.

The moment of truth had arrived. With both of us humping against each other, I fired a round right up her asshole. Pam came as well, her long fingernails dancing over her clitoris. She collapsed on my chest and was asleep within minutes. I held her to me and smiled.

Come morning, Pam had to go to work, but she said I could stay and have breakfast and let myself out. After she left, I had the irresistible impulse to see what other naughty outfits she had. I looked through her drawers and found dozens of silk and lace underthings. Turned on something fierce, I ended up jerking off while holding a blue satin teddy against my cock.

Later that night she called and said that I felt like some fine buck up her ass like that in her crotchless panties. It occurred to both of us that perhaps this was a match made in heaven. We’ve been together ever since, and I still haven’t seen Pam model all of the lingerie in her collection. I’ll close by saying that if you’re in some honky tonk and you see a knockout blonde wearing old blue jeans, imagine what she might have on underneath. The truth might surprise you.

As a woman in the 1990′s, I don’t exactly reflect the trend toward androgyny current among many twenty year oIds. Old fashioned is perhaps the best way to describe me. My head and heart seem to be rooted in the pre Woodstock days when women were women and the men were glad of it. I’m not knocking today’s lifestyle, it’s just not my cup of tea.

I love to dress up and be as feminine as I can. You’ll never see me in jeans or sweatshirts. For me it’s always skirts or dresses, whether they be evening gowns or daring miniskirts. And I’m practically always in heels the only time I wear sneakers is to exercise. Underneath it all, I delight in wearing the finest, frilliest lingerie I can get my hands on.

My love of diaphanous underwear has made my sex life a passionate and heated one. There’s nothing like the sight of me walking toward the bed in a satin and lace bustier, a garter belt, stockings and black high heels to jump start a man. Men appreciate the way I try to turn them on, and their arousal seems to be never ending. And believe me, it thrills me as well. Wrapping my nylon covered legs around a strong man’s torso as he fucks me hard is a pleasure I relive again and again. The first time I saw the sparkle of lustful delight in a man’s eyes upon my revealing my lingerie clad form was with my first lover, Dana. He was my college boyfriend. I had made it to graduation with my chastity intact, even after his repeated efforts to persuade me to yield. For two years he had had to make due with the occasional handjob,

I had planned for my deflowering to be the night of my sorority’s graduation dance. I was dressed to the nines in a knockout, royal blue evening gown. It was cut low enough to show a hint of cleavage and tight enough to accentuate my curvy figure. Dana looked so handsome in his tuxedo.

We had a wonderful evening, and during our last dance, I whispered to Dana that I had booked a room at a local inn and that he should take me there right away. He didn’t hesitate, and we left the dance and rode to the hotel in silence, our hearts pounding. Upon arriving, we ordered some champagne from room service and toasted to our wonderful evening. Then I told him I was going to get comfortable, and suggested he do the same. I slipped into the bathroom.

My plan was proceeding like clockwork. In the bathroom I removed my dress and checked myself in the mirror. Earlier that week I had made some special purchases at a local boutique, and I was sure Dana would be very happy to see them. I was wearing a shiny satin bustier with lace overlays and plenty of ribbons and ruffles. My bikini panties were so tiny, I had shaved down my pubic hair a bit so it wouldn’t stick out. My stockings were held up with garters. In my handbag I’d been carrying a very flimsy bed jacket, which I now put on. I reapplied my deep red lipstick and set out.

Dana was in bed under the covers, obviously naked. He had dimmed the lights. Romance was almost palpable in the air. I walked toward him, feeling my breasts sway as I moved. Dana’s eyes seemed to double in size when he drank me in, I climbed into bed and kicked my shoes off, then struck a sexy pose on my side, with my top leg drawn up toward my stomach.

“Hey there, big guy,” I said in my huskiest Kathleen Turner like voice.

“Melissa, you’re so beautiful,” Dana said as he reached out to me. I fell into his arms, my long nails gently scratching his chest. His nipples were erect with excitement, and I began to lick and suck them as his strong hands held me tight, stroking my back, squeezing my ass.

I’m not so old fashioned as to believe that a woman can’t be the aggressor every now and then, so I pushed Dana onto his back and pulled down the covers. His erection stood proudly, and I wanted nothing more than to take it in my mouth. So I did. It tasted so good! I ran my tongue up and down his length and tickled the glans. Then I swallowed him as best I could, my hands busy massaging his heavy balls. Dana was unable to form sentences, his only sounds an incoherent babble of encouragement. I had never sucked a cock before, but from Dana’s happy expression I knew I was doing an excellent job.

Soon enough I felt the first spray of my lover’s semen as it splashed against my throat. My first reaction was surprise, but I kept his spurting cock in my mouth and gulped down his sweet liquid. Then we looked at each other, both of us grinning like Cheshire cats.

“Now I’m going to eat you up,” he said, rolling me over onto my back. I was so excited that I was shaking uncontrollably. Dana’s hands weren’t too steady either as he pulled my panties down. I unhooked the back of my bustier, and my breasts spilled into view. He sat back on his haunches for a moment to admire the view, making me giggle with embarrassment. He whistled long and low and then took my breasts in his hands, fondling them, feeling their weight. My pink nipples were erect and tingling, and Dana quickly sucked one into his greedy mouth. My head sank back in the fluffy pillows.

As Dana nibbled on my tits, I felt his cock against my leg. He had great powers of recuperation, and I helped him along by rubbing my nylon covered leg against him. He exhaled passionately and told me how great that felt. Then he kissed his way down my chest in a straight line, stopping when he reached the top of my pubic bone. My pussy, which no man had seen before, lay waiting for his kiss. It was dripping wet.

But first Dana grabbed the bottle of champagne and poured a little bit on my belly. A small puddle formed in the hollow of my stomach, and it was all I could do to keep from shrieking with laughter. He lapped up the bubbly and then, his tongue still coated with it, applied his mouth to my virgin cunt. I nearly went through the roof.

That night took place five years ago, but I still remember the electricity that coursed through my body as Dana began licking my pussy. He knew exactly what to do running his tongue up and down the lips, biting them gently, tenderly tickling my clitoris with his finger. In no time at all, I was grinding myself against his face, my legs wrapped around his head, I came with a powerful force, screaming my lover’s name over and over again.

It took me a few moments to come back from the upper stratosphere and focus my eyes. When I did I saw Dana’s hard cock pointing skyward. Wanting him inside me, I spread my legs and pointed my toes at the ceiling. He grabbed my right leg and held it firmly at the ankle. Once again rubbing his cock against the gossamer material of my hose, he kissed my feet through the nylon, making me giggle some more. My giggles turned to sighs and whispers as he kissed his way down my leg, spending a wonderful few moments on the back of my knee. I was ready for his big cock and told him so.

With the skill of a diamond cutter, Dana slipped his hard on into my buttery pussy. He moved only a fraction of an inch at a time, allowing me to accept him at my own pace. There was a little pain, but it was soon overwhelmed by a rhapsodic pleasure. Eventually he was balls deep inside me. He held still, letting me become accustomed to his size. All I could do was mutter, “Oh, God, oh, sweet God,” over and over again.

I was ready for the next step. “Fuck me, Dana,” I whispered huskily. He started up his engine, his cock moving inside me with growing speed. With each thrust the bedsprings squeaked and the headboard knocked against the wall. I loved it and wrapped my legs around him, spinning a cocoon of nylon and lace around his beautiful body.

Perhaps because I had waited until I was really ready, the relinquishing of my virginity was a glorious moment in my life. Dana and I knew each other so well that we worked together like old dance partners. I dug my nails into his back as he filled me repeatedly with his swollen cock while pressing his mouth against my ear and whispering sweet nothings to me. I held on tight for the fantastic ride and hoped it would never end. But of course it did, with a crescendo of orgasmic cries. Dana came deep inside me, and I shivered my way through my second pinnacle of the evening,

Dana and I amicably parted ways a year later, and I wound up in New York. My love of fine clothing had inspired me to get a job with a design firm. For a while I was a free agent, dating many men, a few of whom were given my private fashion show. Then I met Leo, Leo is a bit older than I am I affectionately call him “the Gray Fox” but a kinder, sweeter, more generous man couldn’t exist. Once I forgot about our age difference, it became easy to fall deeply in love with him. He was surprised and flattered by the attention I gave him, and our first night together was one of those magic occasions a girl dreams about. Leo was gentle, yet very virile, showering my body with kisses and caresses and ably fucking me like the king of the jungle.

I knew we were made for each other when I stayed at his house one weekend. I got up early to make breakfast, and when I came back into the bedroom, I found Leo masturbating, one of my stockings wrapped around his purple cock. He was a bit embarrassed, but I assuaged his fears, sitting next to him on the bed and urging him to continue.

“I want to watch you jerk off,” I told him. “Shoot your hot come allover my stocking.” This kind of dirty talk erased his awkwardness, and he resumed stroking his hard on. I cuddled with him, running my fingers lazily up and down his chest and stomach, blowing into his ear and licking the edge of it hungrily, whispering to him how marvelously sexy he was and how much I loved his big cock.

Leo told me how he loved the feel of my silky things against his skin and that he couldn’t resist grabbing a moment for himself with which to start the day. I told him that I had dressed that way for him. Seconds later he shot a mighty blast of semen that arced in the air and splattered on my arm and breasts. His second and third eruptions were less powerful and coated my stocking with a sticky mess. I told him to lie still and disappeared, taking the stocking with me. I came back with a hot towel and cleaned him up. Later that day, we decided we should marry.

For our wedding night, I wanted to wear some lingerie that would knock Leo’s socks off. He had seen all of my collection: my teddies, my camisoles and every silk thing I owned. I wanted to try something new and a little different to commemorate the occasion. I must have spent an hour in a fancy boutique, picking up dozens of items and then putting them down, not certain they were right.

Finally I came across a beautiful chemise it was all lace and nylon and virgin white it seemed so appropriate for one’s wedding night. To complete the picture, I bought myself some white satin high heeled slippers with little puffballs on the toes. I made my purchases and eagerly awaited Leo’s expression when he saw them adorning my figure.

Our wedding was beautiful. Leo was in tails, and I as in a classic bridal gown with a long train and my grandmother’s veil. The reception was loads of fu, but as the night wore on, I began o think about the consummation of our marriage. I think Leo was in the mood also, for he began to get frisky with me as we sat at our table, pinching my bottom and “accidentally” brushing against my breasts.

Good things come to those who wait, and before long we were in our honeymoon suite overlooking Central Park. I ducked into the bathroom to put on my surprise. Reapplying my makeup, I also put a little rouge on my nipples to make them really show through the white material of the chemise, and I put a little perfume on my panties. When I came out I found Leo on the balcony in a short robe and with a drink in his hand. He turned around and when he saw me, a smile brightened his face. He came to me and kissed me hungrily, his arms going around me in a comforting embrace. I melted on the spot, telling my new husband how much I wanted him to fuck me.

Leo took me by the hand and led me to the bed, I sat down and opened his robe, and his manhood bobbed in front of me. I engulfed it with my mouth effortlessly it was a perfect fit. Leo ran his tough yet gentle hands through my curly blonde tresses. When he was near exploding, he signaled me to stop and joined me on the bed. He held me close and we ground against each other, his cock sandwiched in the lacy folds of my chemise. Leo’s fingers sneaked beneath the elastic of my panties and touched my wetness. I moaned with delight.

Maneuvering Leo so that he ended on his back, I straddled him and, with my panties still on but pushed to one side, mounted his raging cock. I undulated atop him, writhing happily as he cupped my aching breasts. We fucked this way until I tired, and quickly Leo flipped me over onto my stomach, preparing to take me from behind like an animal.

He pulled my panties halfway down and gazed at my ass. “As beautiful a sight as I’ve ever seen,” he exclaimed, running his fingertips along the cheeks and pushing them into the crack. Then he sank his erection into my cunt, and our hips locked. With one hand I grabbed the pillow in front of me the other busied itself fiddling with my clitoris. I was drunk with passion as my beautiful husband buried his cock inside me, repeating my name in his baritone voice.

With a shout, Leo announced that he was going to come. I pulled away from him, swinging around so I could taste his love. His first salvo splashed against my breasts, but I captured the remainder in my sucking mouth. He looked down at me with deep love in his eye and told me I was the most wonderful woman he had ever met.

“And you’re the most wonderful man I’ve met,” I said, stroking his spent erection.

So began our marriage. Our sex life has never flagged, and if it threatens to do so, I make a trip to any one of several lingerie shops, looking for the latest from Paris or Hollywood to spice things up. When I come home and Leo sees a box from one of these stores, he drops whatever he’s doing and rushes to the bedroom. I’m always right behind him.

She was something, a real rock n roll video vision. Black lace teasingly veiled the creamy white skin of her full breasts, which jiggled as she pranced up the avenue, with just the hint of two dark pink nipples peeking over the top. Her slim waist was nipped in by a shiny black bustier, and she wore a boy s white tie jacket over that, and tight jeans with artfully placed gashes, one that revealed the curve underneath her pert bottom as the tux tails swung to and fro. Tight black leather boots hugged her slim legs.

Perched on top of her blonde curls was a black motorcycle hat jangling with silver chains. I d never seen a female dressed this way in the flesh, but this girl was striding down the street in New York s Bohemian chic East Village and nobody was paying any particular attention.

Except me. I was overwhelmed by all the images that first day in New York City. For two years I d studied photography in a small Midwestern city near the town where I d grown up, and I d taken some fairly good pictures of local characters, grain silos, farmers plowing their fields with picturesque clouds of dust billowing up behind them. But I d shot enough ladies in flannel shirts and farmers in overalls to last me for a while. I was in the big city to expand my horizons as a photographer.

But the girl in the black bustier pranced right by me and I didn t get off a shot. Silently cursing my shyness, I followed after her. Maybe if I put a telephoto lens on and shot her from a distance I wouldn t have to work up the courage to . . .

Hi, she said, suddenly breathing in my ear. I was hunched over my camera, changing the lens, and hadn t seen her double back. Want to shoot me?

I mumbled something but she grabbed my arm first. Come on, she said, let s go to the park. We dodged a couple of taxis while crossing the avenue into the relative quiet of a scruffy park.

How about over here? she said, dragging me toward a cement wall splattered with colorful graffiti. There wasn t an ounce of shyness in this young lady. She told me she was an aspiring rock singer and needed some pics to show around. We could do a trade, she said she d model for me, I d give her copies of the best shots.

Sybil, she said, grinning and extending her hand. The name s Sybil. Miss Sybil was a bundle of energy as she flung herself from one pose into another. She leaned forward, her arms pointing downward and her hands clasped so that her breasts were pushed together to accentuate lots of cleavage her nipples were fully visible just above the lacy top of her black bustier. She pranced and moved, smiling and giggling, her full creamy breasts swaying and jiggling. I was getting some great shots.

And I was getting more and more turned on. She was absolutely uninhibited, giving me teasing glimpses of her breasts and peeks at her round bottom through the slash in her jeans. I was blushing a little behind my camera, and I hoped she wouldn t notice the growing bulge in my slacks.

When she suggested we shoot some more pictures up at her loft, my mouth suddenly got dry. I can change into something more interesting, she said, smiling slyly.

This was my first week in the Big Apple I wasn t sure I was ready for whatever was happening.

Sure, I gulped. Why not? We darted back across the avenue, and in five minutes we were riding up in a big dusty freight elevator in a warehouse that had been converted into lofts.

Her place was one huge room with golden sunshine streaming in from a half dozen floor to ceiling windows.

You look like a white wine man to me, she said, pouring me a glass of cold Chablis. Thanks, I mumbled. I glanced around at the large open space where she lived. The room was dominated by a big bed with a black satin sheet flung across it, and was filled with greenery big leafy plants in pots and tubs. Late afternoon sunshine flooded the room with golden light that created deep green shadows. I felt as if I were in another world.

A toast? she whispered. She stood so close to me that I felt the heat rising from her breasts as they almost touched my chest. To terrific pictures. Our glasses clinked. Hope you brought plenty of film.

Sybil s eyes, wide and blue, gazed up into mine with an impish smile. I returned her smile and then let my gaze move down her slender white neck to those fantastic breasts, creamy and full with their dark pink nipples peeking over the top of the lacy black bustier. My hand was shaking as I sipped the wine, and a couple of drops trickled down my chin.

She leaned forward, her firm tits now pushing against my chest, and her tongue darted out to lick the wine away, flicking up to my lips, sending a shiver of sexual excitement across my lips, down my spine and into my already rigid cock.

My mouth opened and our tongues entwined, playing a torrid little game as her warm breasts moved slowly back and forth across my chest. She thrust her hips forward to meet mine, and she gave a little murmur as she felt my hard shaft. The she pulled away.

I thought we were going to shoot some photographs, she said, her blue eyes wide in mock innocence.

Sure, I said, and gulped the rest of my wine.

We have enough shots in this outfit, she said. How about if I put something else on?

She wheeled a couple of industrial clothing racks over to where she wanted me to shoot her, where the golden sunlight filtered through all the plants and dappled the big bed.

First, let me get out of this, she said. Then you can help me pick out what to wear.

Sybil flung the tux jacket aside, then sat on the bed and asked me to help her pull off her high boots. As I helped, I thought about what she was wearing underneath her jeans. When she stood up and pulled them off, too, I caught a glimpse of her pussy through the sheer panties that were revealed. She stood, unsnapped the bustier and let it fall. As I stared at her breasts, she took a deep breath and languidly stretched her arms up and behind her head. Her firm breasts rode high, swaying slightly.

She wiggled out of her sheer black panties. Her bush was fluffy and tiny and blonde, and it caught the golden sunlight like a jewel. By this time my cock was throbbing. Stark naked, she went through all the garments on the clothes rack in a whirlwind, putting some aside, tossing others onto the bed. The variety of what she had was amazing leather and lace and silk and satin, a couple of feather boas, one black and one scarlet, some fur, a lizard skin vest.

I clicked off a few shots and, upon hearing the camera, she turned and looked at me. Her eyes came to rest on my bulging cock, which was very obvious now, I guess. It certainly felt as though it was bigger than it had ever been, and it was throbbing like a bass drum in a marching band.

Sybil slipped into a bra of white see through material, bending over to adjust the filmy lace over the top of her swelling breasts. It was slightly too small for her and pushed her breasts together as though they were two snuggling animals. She turned and grinned.

Photogenic, yes?

I nodded, afraid to trust my voice I was getting so turned on.

Slowly she walked over to me. You know, she said, I think we should take a little break before we do any more shooting. You know what they say about all work and no play.

Nothing I d ever done had seemed less like work, but I didn t contradict her. Anyway, I d never been so ready for a little play.

She led me to the bed, by now strewn with garments, and she knelt on it, leaving plenty of room for me.

Hadn t you better get out of your clothes, she said, giggling, before you split a seam in your pants?

I had never undressed so fast in my life. I knelt opposite her on the bed. Her nipples were puffed like little plums straining against the film of white lace, dark pink against the cream of her skin. She took a deep breath and tilted her head back so that I could admire her.

Our lips met in a deep warm kiss, our tongues playing and teeth nibbling, and my hands roved across the silky texture of her bra, feeling the heat of her large breasts, her nipples pushing against my palms. As beautiful as her breasts were in the bra, I wanted my hands on warm, smooth skin. I wanted those nipples in my mouth. I reached around to undo her bra.

She pulled away a little and said, This might be more fun. She gently took each breast from its lacy support and slipped the bra under it. Her large, firm breasts, exposed and vulnerable, now rested on the swaying support of her bra, like two luscious melons served up on a tray. And I was invited to the feast.

Her nipples mesmerized me: dark pink and full, rising and falling with her breathing. I wrapped my arms around her slim waist and pulled her to me, licking them, sucking them, nibbling on them as she cried out in delight.

Her fingers laced into the hair on the back of my head and she held me tightly, my face buried in those large, firm mounds. I licked the soft globes of her so smooth breasts, moving my mouth from one to the other as she writhed and thrust them up for me. As my tongue flicked across each nipple, she gasped and shuddered.

Sybil arched her back and moved her hips so that her pussy pushed against my cock, her legs open wide and inviting. My cock honed in on her wet, hot slit without any help from me. Her hips moved to meet me, and I thrust my shaft in hot and deep and hard as she moaned and cried, Yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me, over and over, hot in my ear.

Her pussy was tight but slick and she took my every inch, like a railroad spike driven into hot bread, opening her legs wider, rotating her hips, arching her back, thrusting her tits up to my face. My hands gripping her ass, my mouth sucking and licking her nipples, moving from one large, slippery globe to the other. I devoured her as she took my lunging lance all the way to the hilt.

When I thought she d split with the force of her fucking, my orgasm began to erupt, starting deep inside me and rising hot and fast to explode in her clutching pussy. Sybil screamed as I came and grabbed my bottom tightly as her own orgasm rushed through her, her pussy tightening on my cock like a wild animal clasping its prey. The late afternoon sun slanted golden through the leafy jungle that surrounded us, and we fell asleep in each other s arms. I don t remember how long we slept, but when we woke, moonlight had replaced the sunlight, and silvery shadows filled the loft.

Always the photographer, my first thought was that we d lost our light. The moon wasn t enough. Sybil was awake too, and almost as though she read my mind, she said, Candles, I ve got dozens of candles.

Perfect, I said. I watched as she lit the candles and placed several near the bed. She looked like some priestess in the cult of eroticism. She still wore the bra, though her breasts were fully exposed, and the warm candlelight on them was exquisite.

She poured us some wine and told me to relax while she picked out another outfit. I want to surprise you, she said, smiling devilishly. Then she moved around behind the clothes racks.

Fabric rustled, a couple of zippers zipped and there was the hollow squeaking sound of leather being adjusted.

Then she reappeared, and I felt a jolt of sexual energy zap into my cock. Her long slim legs were held snug in sheer, smooth black pantyhose that were cut like garters. The crotch was open and her gorgeous little blonde fluff peeked out at me, catching the gold of the flickering candlelight.

To just above her knees came sleek, shiny black riding boots. A hot surge went through me as I imagined those long, leather encased legs wrapped around me. I wanted to instantly bury my face in her golden bush, to seek out the puffy, coral pink lips of her divine pussy.

On her arms were soft black leather gloves that reached to her elbows. The fingers were cut out, so that her scarlet nails flashed as she moved. I could almost feel those nails caressing my chest, raking across my nipples.

Her breasts were covered by a black leather vest adorned with lace that was open just enough so I could catch a teasing glimpse of each nipple as she moved. Around her slim white neck was a wide band of soft black leather.

As she came toward me, time seemed to stand still. The blonde of her fluffy bush seemed like a golden jewel in the midst of all that black leather and lace, like a promise of fire. Her black leather vest swung open a little more to expose her creamy globes of soft, firm flesh. Her nipples seemed to reach out to me, begging to be sucked.

As I sat on the edge of the bed, my enormous erection again reaching out to her, she touched my chest, running the soft black gloves across my skin. Her fingertips and scarlet nails flicked across my nipples, producing a flash of pain with the pleasure, sending a current of sexual electricity to my throbbing cock.

Sybil leaned forward and I kissed her slender white neck, above and below the soft band of black leather that encircled it, reaching up to nibble her ears as she began to moan and pant.

First I fondled her breasts through the sleek, soft leather of the vest, then slowly slid one hand and then the other under the leather to find her warm softness. The leather vest held the heat in, and the sheen of perspiration made her tits slippery as I gripped them both. Her nipples seemed to come alive under my hands as I stroked them.

Her softly gloved hands found my cock and balls, caressed them, wrapped around my swollen shaft, teased the tender spot just below my balls. I was almost screaming with ecstasy now. I d never experienced anything like this.

There she was before me, an absolutely gorgeous carnal vision in black lace and leather, driving me into a maelstrom of feeling. And I realized that it wasn t just her natural beauty that was driving me wild, but the clothes she wore, the costume.

I can t wait any longer, I gasped. I guess she couldn t either, because she eased me back onto the bed and knelt over me with her golden pussy hovering just over my hot, ready cock.

With her breasts swaying right above my mouth, peeking out of the black leather of her vest, she let her hot, slick pussy down onto my cock. Maddeningly slow at first I wanted it all right away but she took me inch by slow inch, pulling away a little, then easing back down onto my shaft. Bit by bit, as I cried out for more, for all of her slick and sultry pussy, she impaled herself on my aching cock.

She was incredibly tight, and my cock felt harder and bigger than ever, but she was able to take it all. Like a jockey on a thoroughbred she rode me, as I arched my back and drove my love spike up and into her, seeking out the very heart of her.

My hands gripped her big soft tits under the soft leather of her vest. They were hot and sweating now, slippery like two vibrant animals trying to roll away from my gasp.

In my ear, she whispered, Finish the other way. You know . . . from behind. In my ass.

I d never tried that before, but this was the day for new experiences. I slid out of her and she turned over onto her knees. She had a small bottle of baby oil by the bed and she told me to put some on my cock.

It was slippery and hot as I pushed into her bottom. I reached around and held onto her breasts under the vest. In and out, very slowly at first so I wouldn t hurt her, and then faster and faster.

Sybil was crying now, but I could tell it was with pleasure, and I began to plunge harder and harder. With her leather gloved hands she began to play with her clit in rhythm to my fucking.

When I came she did too, her ass tightening on my cock, squeezing out every drop of my hot juices.

The next morning we tried out her collection of feather boas a white one, a red one, a black one and we dipped into her collection of soft fur. We tried that lizard skin vest, too. I shot hundreds of pictures. Later I made copies for her, but on the walls of my bedroom are fantastic photos of Sybil in silks and satins, in leather and lace, and in that tux jacket and black bustier.

I still visit Sybil once in a while, and the young ladies I date almost all admire my pictures of her. Many of them are intrigued with the notion of trying costume sex themselves.

To me, it s all a powerful stimulus. And I ve learned that it doesn t have to be elaborate. Sometimes it s just a pair of sexy stockings left on rather than taken off, or a single black velvet ribbon around a willowy white throat. Men are usually so anxious to ask a woman to take it all off, but I ve learned it can be much more thrilling to leave a little something on.

Julie s invitation to a client s lingerie party surprised and intrigued me. Although we had known each other for well over a year, we d only recently become lovers. I guess I thought the invitation was a bit forward but, ever up for something new and exciting, I heartily agreed to go.

Julie is petite, with soft auburn hair that curls around her shoulders and large, expressive eyes. Her cute, well rounded breasts, curved hips and long, shapely legs are mostly concealed in the trim professional business suits she wears. The thought of her in lingerie was tantalizing, but she warned me, They asked me to model, but I said no.

I was pleasantly surprised by the party, which was held in a nice upper middle class suburban home. The hostess was a good looking woman in her early forties, and the other guests who ranged from their late twenties to mid forties, were all attractive and in good shape. Men and women were there in equal numbers. It started out like any other yuppie cocktail party, with hors d oeuvres and lots of networking. A few of the men Julie worked with asked eagerly if she was going to be one of the models. When she demurred, they kept teasing and cajoling her about it.

An hour or so into the party the hostess announced the show and called for volunteers to model. Julie s coworkers kept pointing to her and cheering her on. She glanced at me and I said enthusiastically, Go for it!

Blushing, Julie raised her hand to general applause and went off with about six or seven of the other women. About twenty minutes later a young woman, evidently the distributor who had organized the event, began to introduce the models. First, the hostess came out in a tiger skin leotard and was met by hoots and hollers as the distributor described the outfit and its price. An attractive blonde next modeled an electric blue negligee.

My mouth dropped open as Julie then appeared in a skintight black satin teddy with spaghetti straps and red lace trim. Her effect on me was immediate and my cock stirred. She was stunningly sexy as she strutted in a circle to show off the teddy s front and back. There was widespread applause it was by far the hottest outfit of the evening, and I certainly thought it was worn by the sexiest woman there.

The rest of the show was fun, but I could hardly take my eyes off Julie. The models mingled afterward as the distributor took orders. I went right up to Julie. You ve got to keep that, I insisted. Can I buy it for you?

She grinned and blushed simultaneously, and accepted my offer. But there was something strange in her expression, stirrings of arousal I d only seen in the bedroom. Thinking quickly, I went over to the distributor and paid for the outfit. As far as I was concerned, the party was over. I was ready for other activities. Julie agreed. Let me go change, she said, starting for the bathroom.

Oh, no, don t change, I growled. Just get your clothes. She looked at me strangely. Her eyes widened but a playful smile curled on her lips. Okay, she whispered, apparently caught up in a powerful wave of arousal. She returned quickly with her clothes in a bag. Several of the men and women started teasing her about leaving so quickly.

When we got to the car, I sat Julie on the hood and dropped the bag I was carrying. Gently spreading her legs apart, I pulled her to me, kissing her deeply as our bodies pressed together hotly. I was ready to fuck her on the spot, right on the hood of my car. She was aroused and moaned, but said, Not here . . .

Once inside the car we grabbed for each other, and our kisses began to steam up the windows. God, I ve never been so hot, she said. Showing off in front of everybody, wearing an outfit like that. I ve never done anything like this before. Please, let s go to your apartment.

I wrapped my coat around her to get her through the lobby, but pulled it off her the second we were in the elevator. We were entwined the entire ride up to the fifth floor. We were lucky that the hallway was empty, because we fondled each other all the way to my apartment door.

Finally inside, Julie began tugging at my necktie and unbuttoning my shirt. She stroked my nipples, then she fumbled with my belt buckle, unzipped me and pulled my cock out. Meanwhile my hands roved over the black satin of her teddy. I was able to slip my hand inside to stroke her. Step by step, we stumbled toward the bedroom, never letting go of each other for an instant. My clothes on the floor left a trail to mark our passage. Finally we fell together, laughing, on my bed.

Fumbling with the wet crotch of the teddy, I unsnapped the two clasps. I didn t want to take it off it made me feel aggressive, dominant in an unusual way for me. I liked it judging from her moans, so did she.

Rolling on top of her, I slid my cock easily into her wet pussy. The two previous times we d made love had been slow and sensual this was pure fucking: hot, wet, fast and fierce. I pounded into her, grabbing her, being rough. And her response beneath me was so intense: she was writhing and thrashing and moaning and screaming. Her fingernails raked my back, her teeth scraped my shoulder. Because we were so aroused, it didn t take long until we both exploded within a minute of each other. I felt as if I was shooting rivers of come her climactic shriek was so loud I was sure we d woken the neighbors.

That was our introduction to the sensual power of lingerie.

The next day Julie dressed in front of me before going to work, and she wore her new teddy under her suit. I could see the lace panel across her breasts inside the lapels of her silk blouse. She almost didn t make it out of my apartment. She later reported that she got teased about it at the office, but she s a good sport. In fact, I secretly suspected she enjoyed the attention. That night I got to unwrap my present again, and I got an incredible charge from watching my demure businesswoman turn into a hot, sexy model.

We quickly realized that there was a whole new horizon of lingerie waiting for us to explore. Her underwear changed from boring white cotton to peachy lace garters, silk bras and panties and seamed, patterned stockings.

By my birthday five months later, we were living together. She took me out for an excellent dinner at our favorite Thai restaurant, and when we got home, Julie said, Take off your clothes and wait in the bedroom. I ve got a special surprise for you.

I quickly stripped, turned on the red light we used for sexual illumination, and stroked my cock to erection. I lay there squeezing it as she made her entrance.

Her hair was piled on top of her head in a romantic, Victorian style. Her eyes were freshly made up and her lipstick set off her rosebud mouth. Around her neck was a black bow tie, and black satin gloves came up to her elbows. She wore an elaborately detailed black lace merry widow with ribbing that pushed her breasts together, forming a deep cleavage. Her waist was tightly cinched. Black satin panties covered the garter straps from the merry widow, which held up the sexiest fishnet stockings I d ever seen. She wore black spike heels. Oh, my God, I whispered.

Like it? she smiled, turning slowly around so I could feast my eyes on every inch of her outfit, a true erotic masterpiece. I was nearly speechless at the fight. Julie is very pretty, but at that moment it was like having a centerfold come to life in my bedroom.

I stood up to embrace her, but she indicated I should stay put. Slowly she strutted toward me and perched gently on the edge of the bed. Telling me to relax and enjoy, she stroked her satin sheathed hands over my prone body, teasing me to the boiling point of lust. I reached out and placed my hand on her stockinged thigh, caressing it. My eyes devoured her in amazement and delight.

Her hands wandered over my outstretched body, stroking my chest, my arms, my legs. She traced the outline of my lips with one gloved finger I opened my mouth and gently nipped it. Her fingers feathered the inside of my thigh, sliding up to capture my balls in one hand, gently cupping them. Her other hand lightly dipped into the seminal fluid leaking from the head of my cock, spreading it around the sensitive skin until I was ready to scream.

Our tongues met, darting together in a kiss as she masturbated my straining shaft. I reached up to touch her breasts in the tight lace, and she moaned into my mouth. Finally she stretched out beside me and I rolled over, pressing my body against hers. The sensation of lace against bare skin was powerfully erotic. My hard cock bobbed against her stockinged thigh. We kissed for a long time, then she pressed her hands against me, pushing me once again on my back. This time she slid down to crouch between my legs. Taking my cock in one hand and cupping my balls in the other, she leaned down to capture my erection in her warm, sweet mouth. I gasped with pleasure.

The sight of my lingerie clad beauty kneeling between my legs with my hard cock in her mouth was enough to bring me to the edge quickly. She stopped, looked up at me with a teasing sparkle in her eyes and winked. Then she bent down once again to give me a long, sensual sucking. Careful,” I pleaded. I didn t want to come too soon. She stopped to let me cool down, then teased me again. Over and over she tantalized my cock to the brink. My head was spinning as I tried to keep from coming too soon. Finally she relented, knowing that if she kept it up any longer I wouldn t be able to hold out.

She stood up, allowing me to admire her again in the romantic red glow. Slowly, tantalizingly, she slid her panties down, revealing her damp, furry pussy. I couldn t help it I reached down to grab my own organ. She began caressing herself, putting on a show for me, sliding one hand between her legs while cupping her breast in the other, moaning erotically. Wait a minute, she gasped, and quickly pulled a chair from the corner. She sat upright in it, legs apart, posing as she removed her long gloves by pulling the tight satin loose, finger by finger. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and sucked them until they were wet, then slid them along the lips of her pussy. Spreading her labia, she teased her clitoris with her other hand. I watched her, fascinated she was really masturbating. I d never seen a woman do that before. Yes, I whispered, do it.

Sitting a few feet apart, me on the edge of the bed, her perched spread eagled on the chair, we masturbated together. I pumped my cock slowly, rubbing the slick, viscous pre come up and around the shaft. She rubbed her clitoris in circles, then up and down her slit, and then slid a finger inside as she moaned. Her eyes were fixed on my cock as she gave herself up to her fingers, moving them round and round. Then she reached up to slide the very top of her merry widow from her breasts and began stroking the stiff nipple that emerged. I pumped faster and faster in rhythm with her, trying to match her arousal.

She started gasping, getting closer and closer. And then she exploded, crying and moaning and twisting in the chair, an erotic vision more charged than anything I have ever seen or imagined. That did it for me. Jet after jet spurted from my cock, splattering my chest and legs. For a few endless seconds we looked at each other, then I lurched up and gathered her in my arms to tell her just how sexy she was and how much I loved her.

For most men, accompanying their wives on shopping trips is one of those boring, painful duties. By the time we were married, I was helping Julie buy her clothes, mostly so I could keep my eyes peeled for less practical clothing. Besides the obvious items teddies, merry widows, garter belts there s a wide range of clothing not originally intended for the bedroom that can be just as enjoyable.

In particular, recently, there was this ultra short little disco dress made entirely of sequins, alternating bands of gold and red and blue metallics. Here, try this on, I suggested.

She looked at it and shook her head. I could never wear that, she said. But I was eager to see her in it, and after a little persuasion she agreed to try it on. The store was virtually deserted. When she came out I whistled. The formfitting skirt came only a few inches down her thighs. The low cut front showed off her cleavage. The outrageously vivid colors made her look like my ever present fantasy of her as a model. She could tell the effect the outfit was having on me. Teasingly she looked around, and when it was clear there was no one in sight, she stepped up next to me and brushed her hand over my rapidly swelling cock. Acting on impulse, I grabbed her and pushed her back into the dressing room stall, pulling the door shut behind us.

Someone will hear! she began, but I cut her off with a deep kiss, letting my hands roam over the sequined dress. I cupped her breasts and then rubbed my hand between her thighs. I could feel her starting to get wet. She tried to protest in an angry whisper, but I was in no condition to pay attention. I reached up under the skirt and pulled her panties down, then knelt on the floor of the tight stall. Pushing her legs slightly apart I began licking her pussy, feeling the soft lips swell and part as arousal overtook her. She whispered that we shouldn t but her heart wasn t in it. I wormed my tongue gently into her clitoris and then licked the sensitive spot just underneath while I sneaked one finger into her. She moaned, then clamped down on her lip to keep from crying out.

The semi public situation, my reaction to the dress and her own fondness for erotic attire combined to drive Julie crazy she was quickly building to orgasm. I stood up, still keeping a hand between her thighs. She fumbled at my belt and zipper, then helped me push my pants and briefs down. I pressed her tightly against the wall and helped her lift her spread legs slightly, then I entered her. She bit into my shoulder to keep from crying out. We were both crazy. At that moment the entire store could have trooped in and we wouldn t have noticed, or been able to stop. I was making thumping noises as I fucked her against the wall. To stimulate her further, I reached one hand between us to rub her clitoris. That was all it took. With a muffled scream she came, and the powerful sensation triggered my own orgasm. Our hearts pounding, we stayed locked together for a minute. Then she said, You ve got to leave. Be careful!

I quickly pulled my pants on, then cracked the door, looking both ways. The coast was clear. I quickly slid out. Then I saw one woman in her mid thirties watching me with amusement. She glanced away when I noticed her.

A few minutes later Julie emerged, clutching the dress in one hand, looking a bit sweaty. Quickly, we paid for the garment and nearly ran out of the store before we collapsed with laughter.

We ve accumulated quite a few pieces of erotic clothing, and each one can awaken another memory. Once in New York I bought her a bright red half t shirt with fringe, with New York written on it. It gave her a hot, trashy look, especially when she wore red fishnet stockings and no panties. Whenever she wears that outfit I just want to lick her pussy for hours. On another birthday she surprised me with breakfast in bed while wearing a traditional French maid outfit.

Julie tells me that it s unfair that there is not much of a selection of erotic menswear. I have one pair of black mesh bikini underwear and some see through nylon briefs, but we haven t found much else. While she likes them, what really turns her on is for me to wear my tuxedo. She loves undressing a man in black tie. I like it, too.

Lingerie is a way to show off different parts of our personalities, or at least to make the transition from the workaday world to passion and romance. Each outfit tells a story. And each year on the anniversary of the beginning of our affair, Julie wears the original black satin teddy, and we relive what is still one of the most erotic moments of our lives.

You know I was stunned when I first realized my sexual pleasure was tied to my wardrobe. It seemed silly at first. Dressing for sex began as a game to spark some life into my marriage, but the game took over and soon I was my own prisoner to sexy fashion. My delight grew as I selected the finery I would wear. What once was a prelude to seduction is now a culmination of sensual pleasures in and of itself.

Black lace panties snug against my crotch, a silk scarf taut against the nape of my neck, the cool fine elegance of kid leather gloves all these things enhance my sexual pleasure. As fine and lovely things touch and caress my body, my juices are stirred. On the outside I am adorned with satins, silks, furs and feathers, ice cold jewels inside the fire burns at the thought of my body draped in these extravagances.

I remember the first time I dressed for sex. I had read somewhere that the way to put some oomph in a sexual relationship is to do the unexpected. I decided to greet my husband in a most provocative costume.

Mark is a trial lawyer. He works long hours and is often tired at the end of his day. We had been married three years, and although we still had a healthy sex life, I was feeling a bit neglected. I wanted to bring back some of those do or die, hot clutch fucks we thrilled to when we first met.

Mark is six feet tall, trim but strong. He is handsome enough to be off putting a quality that works well for him in the courtroom. I am five feet six inches tall with large breasts, a tiny waist and just a bit of a behind. However, at first glance you might see me as mostly legs. I keep in shape, and my body is hairless. It has always excited Mark to see my crotch shaved, so I pay special attention to my skin and frequently have my body waxed.

It was Wednesday, and that evening I was horny. Having decided to give Mark a good turn in bed when he hit the door, I scrutinized my wardrobe for a tempting outfit. Starting with panties, I perused the various options: black, white, lace, silk, satin. I wanted something that would make my man drool. I picked a pair of white briefs with a full satin V in back and straps holding white paisley waves of lace that would hardly conceal my vagina. I held them up to my face my tongue could easily wiggle through the lace. So could Mark s. I imagined his tongue pushing through my panties and parting my pussy lips as I lay back in splendor.

I could feel my temperature rising as I slipped the panties up my legs and over my bare pussy. I posed in a mirror, pulling aside the bit of lace to reveal my labia. I was so hot! Wiggling a finger in between my pussy lips, I gave myself a little rub. My internal heat rose to my brow. I was ready to get off right then and there but I wanted to share my pleasure with Mark. I was also eager to continue my dressing for sex.

I pulled on a half bra and let my nipples peek out over the edge. It was white and simple but showed off my breasts very nicely. I squeezed my nipples between my fingers to make them stand out more as I thought about my next move. A silk scarf might come in handy, so I tied my long brown hair up with one and tried to decide on a teddy or garter belt with stockings.

I chose my favorite peach colored satin slip. The bodice was a fine net lace and exposed the tops of my breasts. It felt sexy. And now I needed a finishing touch. Heels and a string of pearls, and I was ready to be fucked out of my mind. I waited at the door for Mark like a sex starved sentinel.

The effect was immediate. He had barely walked into the room, but his pants could not disguise a growing bulge. We spoke not a word but paced around each other like hungry panthers eyeing our prey. I felt liberated. A new me emerged in this costume. I pouted my lips seductively at my husband and unzipped his pants. His long, lean cock sprang out, and I stroked it. I pulled my scarf from my hair, allowing my tresses to fall past my shoulders, and dragged the smooth silkiness over Mark s erection. I wrapped up his balls and the base of his cock and knelt to take his cockhead in my mouth, as my pearls swung about and swatted him against the leg.

Mark moaned and dropped his pants to the floor as I continued to tease, tickle and tempt his cock with my tongue and silk scarf. His cock was entirely engorged, and I happily sucked on the crown. Mark s hands roamed underneath my negligee, finding my tits and squeezing my nipples. I released his cock from the scarf and drew the scarf s length behind him across his bare ass. He shivered and pushed his cock down my throat. I sucked him as his hand caressed me through the layers of satin and silk.

My body was alive with sensations, and I threw myself into giving my husband the best blowjob of his life. Mark was entirely supportive, allowing me to pull him into me and down my throat. I looked up at him, trying to visualize his sight of me kneeling on the floor, exquisitely dressed in lingerie, my feet tucked behind me in white stacked heels, perfectly pressed together like two obedient doves. His cock was soaring in and out of my mouth as white silk caressed his ass.

As I intensified the pace, my pearls bounced against my satin chest causing a thumping sound. I heard Mark emit a single moan, and then his hot juice poured into my mouth. I drank his come like nectar, wrapping my lips around his girth so as not to miss a drop. I swallowed his entire load, then wiped my lips gently, like a lady.

Mark swiped at his brow and smiled down at me. He tossed off his shirt and pulled me up to him. I rubbed my body against his, and we kissed long and hard until I felt his cock stir again. Mark trailed his tongue down my neck and rubbed his cheek against the satin of my slip. I raised my arms, and he lifted the slip over my head, but not before giving my underarm a little sweep with his tongue. It tickled, but I enjoyed the sensation. My pussy was wet and wanting. It took willpower to keep from pushing Mark s head down there, but I wanted him to appreciate my bra encased tits.

He did. Pulling on my nipples and cupping his hand beneath the sheerness of the half cup, Mark enjoyed the sight of me barely dressed. My breasts pushed out of the bra and Mark massaged them, kissing me all over. He could sense my desire. The heat of my crotch steamed furiously beneath my panties as he eased me down onto the floor. He held my breasts and headed downward with his tongue. Propped up on my elbows, I watched Mark fulfill my daydream. His tongue darted in and out of the spaces in the lace, teasing me, tickling me daring me to come in my panties. His tongue pushed aside the lace and found its way to my pussy. The fabric tickled my shaved mound as his tongue worked its way inside me.

The back of my panties crawled up my ass. Mark held onto the string in front so he could gain maximum entrance. My cunt trembled from the sensation. The hot flash of orgasm caused the backs of my thighs to shiver as Mark buried his face in my crotch. I felt a siege of tiny hot spurts in my lace clad pussy with Mark s tongue parting the threads of our desire.

Dressing for sex has since become a way of life for Mark and me. Lingerie is the mainstay of our sexual games, and I continue to seek new vistas of sensuous coverings for our playtime. Each piece, each fabric, suggests a different form of play. I remember one heated evening when I first introduced a bit of garish leather to our boudoir. The shock in Mark s eyes was equaled only by the steel in his cock. I purchased an outfit totally unlike anything I would normally wear black leather jacket, leather miniskirt, leather gloves, fishnets and tall spike heels. I pushed my hair up into a bun and covered it with a short poorboy style, jet black wig. I made myself up with thick, heavy black mascara and overly bright pink blush. The look was decidedly whorish but I felt sexy as hell!

The coolness of the leather against my skin was an incredible turn on. As I waited for Mark, I put a CD on the disc player and posed in the mirror. Voguing poses I had seen on music television, I began to get turned on by my image. Slight perspiration trickled down between my breasts. My hand forced its way underneath the tight leather of my skirt to finger my pussy. I imagined my leather knuckles belonged to the hand of a biker. I could smell the musk of the new leather as I dusted my finger over my button. Leaning back against the footboard of the bed, I came for the first time in leather hot, hungry and happy to have found this exciting new sensation.

I had barely recovered from this little episode when I heard the front door opening. I stood at the foot of the bed, hand on my hip, and waited until Mark entered the room.

Wanna fuck? I said like a trashy little whore.

Mark stared at me. He was no longer surprised at my sexual antics he encouraged them. But this was pushing our adventures to another level. I stuck my fucking finger on his lips and he sucked it into his mouth. I reached for his hand and slipped it under my skirt. He needed no further encouragement. Mark fingered my cunt, pulling the tight leather even tighter around my ass. After licking my finger clean, he snuggled down into the V of my black leather jacket and softly bit my breasts. I did my best to undress him and then reached for his cock. He stepped out of his pants, and his cock pressed against the side of my skirt. I held it there, loving the feel of his hard, hot shaft against the soft, thick leather. The fact that I wore nothing under the jacket and skirt made me feel more sexual than ever before. The net of the stockings only intensified this feeling. I wanted to fuck in the worst way.

Mark obviously wanted the same thing. He turned me around, hiked my skirt and told me to bend over. Holding firmly to the footboard, I bent over the bed and spread my legs as much as I possibly could in the too tight skirt. His long and knowing cock found my pussy easily, and he began trusting earnestly inside me. He kept up his rhythm until I was moaning and approaching orgasm.

He bent me over further and strengthened his thrusts as I began to come. I bit into the collar of my jacket, tasting the leather as my pussy sounded the siren of relief. I held on tight as Mark continued to fuck me from behind, his cock inching slightly further inside me, his thrusts becoming faster. I thought about the picture we made Mark s, fair skinned, blond, muscular body, his long, thin cock buried inside my vagina and me, barely covered in black leather and bent over with my ass in the air and chewing on a bit of stiff hide, my stockinged legs spread apart, my feet in spike heels.

I felt Mark s semen pulse inside me, the heat of his come warming my core. My clitoris responded with a multitude of sparks. Together we clasped and unclasped until our passion subsided. Mark slid out of me and I straightened up. I began to undo my jacket but Mark took my hand. Not yet, he whispered. I sighed. That night became a marathon of fucking in every position we knew.

Though Mark and I still reach for each other in the middle of the night and come together gently and lovingly like a happily married couple, our sex life will always be tied to the joy of my dressing for sex. And each sexual episode is new, with the results both exciting and deliciously unexpected.

Okay, I admit it. I used to be one of those women who always wore sensible cotton undies you know the type. Then I met Harry.

He’s wonderful. Besides being a thoroughly adorable human being, Harry is also deliciously inventive when it comes to our love life.

It was our third or fourth night together when Harry produced a fancy wrapped package. It wasn’t my birthday or anything, so naturally I was taken by surprise. Harry would only say, Go ahead, open it. And I did, ripping away the silver moir paper and tissue packing.

Inside I found flimsy articles of lingerie, some lace, some satin. How pretty they are, I thought, but where and how are they meant to be worn?

I got you three different outfits, baby, Harry said, eagerly. I couldn’t decide which was the prettiest, so I just bought them all.

When I held a pair of French cut lace panties up to my body, it sure had a startling effect on Harry. The front of his trousers bulged, and I reached out to find his beautiful cock growing big and hard.

Will you help me put them on? I asked, softly. Nothing I could have said would have pleased Harry more.

As we went into the bedroom, I told him to pick the outfit he liked the best. Without hesitation, he chose a wisp of red lace scattered with black ribbons. As I undressed, I thought it was interesting that he was choosing to remain fully clothed himself.

When I stood before him nude, he pulled me close and sucked on my nipples, bringing each one to little strawberry points. This way they’ll show better through the lace, he said. Then he reached between my thighs to give my clitoris a little rub for good measure.

When he had me helplessly moaning, he stopped and picked up the little red and black thing that looked like it was in the teddy family, only skimpier: cut narrow between the legs, with a crisscross ribbon tie up in front and angel hair straps.

I had expected to feel ridiculous in it, but I was deliciously surprised. The way the lace was cut made my waist look even smaller than it is, and my breasts even bigger. And while the lace and satin were as soft as could be to the fingers, having it against my body incited a pleasant friction at my engorged clitoris and nipples. This gave me a nice little buzz as I walked across the room to get a pair of high heels out of the closet.

I had worn this particular pair of high strappy shoes to a couple of parties with Harry and remembered how sexy he had found them. They seemed made for this outfit. Carefully teetering over to my dressing table and discarding the simple gold clips I usually wore, I put on a gorgeous pair of rhinestone waterfall earrings that sparkled brilliantly whenever I moved my head. Using my fingers as a comb, I shook my hair out to a luxurious tousle, then turned to face Harry.

Never had I seen my man so excited! He sat on the edge of the bed, both hands rubbing the distended front of his trousers, while he watched me slink across the room toward him. From the beginning, Harry and I had been very comfortable about being nude in front of each other, accepting it as a part of our wonderful, loving relationship. Now, standing in front of him in that delicate confection of lace and satin ribbon, I somehow felt more exposed than ever.

On impulse, I added a finishing touch to the outfit black gloves that came up past the elbow. I slipped them on slowly, making a great show of smoothing down each finger. Harry was almost beside himself with excitement in fact, we were both so aroused that I thought we had better proceed before we came together on the spot!

I undressed him, rubbing each newly exposed inch of his skin with my gloved hands, hoping to create for him the same stimulating friction my little outfit was giving me. The only part of him I delayed touching for the moment was his erect and straining cock.

Harry lay back on the bed, groaning pleasurably as I ran my palms across the pebbly buds of his nipples. He loves for me to do this. His hips worked, thrusting his throbbing cock upward in search of satisfaction. Finally, I straddled Harry, being careful not to touch him.

You want me? I teased, feeling a little outrageous.

Oh, you he said, hoarsely. You are the sexiest woman . . .

Spreading my legs wider apart, I pushed the crotch material to the side of my soaking pussy and, fully dressed as it were, slowly lowered myself onto Harry’s enormous cock. I groaned with pleasure as his swollen manhood squeezed through and then sank deep into my wet and hungry crevice. Harry is certainly well endowed, but that night he felt bigger than ever. Then, when I released the narrow band of lace trimmed satin so it rubbed against the side of his cock, he thrust wildly inside me and seemed to get even bigger still.

Harry was like an animal! Again and again, he slammed up into me, spewing like a geyser when he came. Although he gasped for air and shuddered for a moment, he didn’t slow down after his orgasm. Instead, he rolled us over and began to pound into me again. Harry is the only man I’ve ever known who can make the simple missionary position the most exciting way to make love! Wrapping my legs tightly around him, I came over and over, sighing my pleasure continually, until at last, Harry came again and collapsed on top of me in a heap.

We didn’t get to see the other two outfits on me that night neither one of us had the strength for what would undoubtedly follow. However, I did try on another outfit the next night, and impossible though it seemed, our lovemaking just got better.

The second outfit was of virginal white. It consisted of a lacy chemise and delicate panties, which tied at the sides with white satin ribbons. To top it off, Harry had bought me a pair of high heeled white satin slippers with marabou over the toes.

That second night, I was wearing the outfit when Harry rang the doorbell and I knew what to expect. I had pinched and pulled at my nipples which I like to do anyway so they would be dark and hungry looking through the thin veiling of white lace. The expression on my Harry’s face when he saw me was priceless! We made wild, passionate love for most of the night.

The next morning, Harry had to go to New York on a business trip. Just as a small reminder of what he was leaving behind, I secretly tucked my little white panties into his overcoat pocket. All day long at work, I could scarcely concentrate, thinking about the possibility of Harry pulling that not so innocent piece of lace out of his pocket at the wrong time!

As he always does when he’s out of town, Harry called me that night. He found the panties shortly after leaving the house and had carried them with him all day long. He even said that he looked at them occasionally, remembering the wild time we had.

Harry came home two days later, and I was ready for him. In fact, I was so hot and bothered, I had almost flown to New York to join him. But I planned on something else.

Harry was coming in on the ten o’clock shuttle. That morning, I called his secretary and had her pencil me in for lunch with him. Then I dressed very carefully.

It was time to break out the third outfit, and I decided I liked it best. Made of black satin, it consisted of a bra and a pair of amazing stockings. The bra cups were cut a bit smaller than what I am used to, but once I had it hooked in back I found out why. In the center of each cup was a little hole for my nipples to stick out, and the snugness of the cups made them pooch through proudly.

But that was only half of it! The inner edge of each hole was lined with ruffled lace, to keep my nipples stiff and hungry.

The sheer, black nylon stockings came almost to the top of my thighs and included built in garter supports in front and back, coming up to a sparkling band around my waist. Otherwise, I was naked from the tops of my thighs to the band around my waist. That’s right no panties. I was feeling incredibly erotic.

Over this, I wore a red button down swing dress. It was perfect for what I had in mind.

Harry’s office is glass walled, which translates into no privacy. For that reason, we were rather circumspect in our greeting, but I could see the lust in Harry’s eyes as his lips brushed my cheek. I had deliberately arrived a little early, so he wasn’t quite ready to leave. While he finished up, I sat down in a large cushiony chair, facing him, with my back to the main office.

At first, Harry didn’t notice me slowly unbuttoning my dress. He didn’t notice anything until I softly whispered his name. And when he looked up, I carefully pulled open dress to offer him a sneak peek. Then, nonchalantly, I pulled my dress back together and buttoned it.

Harry froze, his mouth open mid word at the sight of my almost completely naked body. I had opened my legs so he could see my pouting pussy lips, reddened with arousal.

Jeanne . . . he breathed, dropping the pencil he had been holding.

If I had acted on my own desires, I would have wasted no time flinging him down on the carpet and fucking him until neither of us could move. However, I had to be more inventive. Glancing at my watch, I feigned surprise. Oh, Harry, I’m sorry. I forgot I’ve got to be at a meeting. See you at my place after work?

And I strolled out of his office, knowing my lusty man was probably in such a state, he wouldn’t dare stand up even if he could!

Later on, Harry beat me to my place. Jeanne, what do you mean by pulling a stunt like that? he fumed. I haven’t been able to work all day thinking of you like . . .

You mean like this? I interrupted, undoing my dress and holding it wide open. Wordlessly, Harry stared, his breath coming in little hiccup like gasps.

Let’s go inside, he said hoarsely, pushing me ahead of him.

The door was scarcely closed behind us before he was tearing at his clothes. His beautiful cock was swollen in front of him. It took all my willpower not to jump him right then. I sat back on the couch and spread my legs, exposing my pink pussy.

I’m all wet. Why don’t you lick me dry?

I didn’t have to ask twice! Instantly, Harry was on his knees between my spread legs, his head buried in my pussy, his tongue slurping up my nectar. Harry loves to go down on me almost as much as I love him to do it, but this time it was so much more intense. I writhed as Harry’s frantic motions between my legs lifted me from orgasm to orgasm.

Finally, Harry carried me into the bedroom and threw off the rest of his clothes. I tell you, my Harry is nothing if not adventuresome! Just as I thought he was going to peel off my new bra, he slurped up my breasts, satin, lace, nipples and all. The whole day long, the semi stiff lace had kept my nipples stimulated now they were screaming for release. Satisfaction came from Harry’s mouth as he switched from one nipple to the other, until I actually came just from the feeling. The way Harry kneaded the strawberry firmness of my nipples and the lace together was indescribable.

Oh, please, now, I whispered, wiggling myself under him and almost twitching in my need.

Harry responded immediately, shoving his gloriously swollen cock balls deep into my drenched pussy. It was too good to end every time Harry felt himself start to come, he would pull out, take a couple of deep breaths, and we would change positions. I don’t think there was one we missed! He took me from the side again practically upside down with my legs spread high above his shoulders, drilling into me like a construction worker drilling into concrete then with me on top riding him like a pagan Valkyrie. I came more times than I could count.

Finally, when Harry knew that he was going to come and nothing could stop it, he pulled out and flipped me onto my hands and knees and mounted me doggy style. As he slammed in and out of me, the weight of his semen laden balls slapped heavily against the backs of my legs. Leaning on my arched back, he reached under to massage my breasts, his fingers pulling at my nipples. We came in a single, explosive climax that sent us sprawling across the bed in a satiated tangle.

Since then, Harry has bought me many more frilly things, and I’ve bought a great many for myself. Hardly ever do I put on the boring undies I was used to wearing. I’m a lingerie convert.

I’ve even gone one step further and gotten Harry a couple of sexy things. He now has a respectable collection of briefs and jockstraps in every material from silk to fur, as well as a couple of marvelous robes that neither of us would have before considered.

Our love life doesn’t exactly center around erotic lingerie, but Harry and I believe that it certainly adds delightfully to the basic magic between us.

Tonight I’m going to surprise him with a new outfit in metallic silver that fits my body like a second skin. I know Harry is going to love it!

Mysterious women with long legs, draped in sensuous lingerie offered me pleasant smiles as I paged through the catalog that had arrived in the mail that morning. I settled back in my chair and prepared myself for a titillating hour of armchair shopping. Each item offered for sale exuded an aura of high fashion and luxuriousness. The models breasts were perfect: high and firm, with subtly erect nipples. The discreet sensuality of these alluring, beautiful women never failed to arouse me.

Each model was artfully posed in elegant surroundings, and the effect was that of a group of young women wearing sumptuous silks and satins as they wandered about the garden of a palatial, sun washed estate. Some models sipped champagne from crystal flutes, while others nibbled plump, red strawberries. A few other charmers sprawled casually on white wicker lawn furniture, their heads thrown back as they laughed at some private joke. It was all very inviting, and I used a felt tip pen to circle several items that I would order by phone later that evening.

As I was marking my selections, my wife entered the room. I smiled, thinking once again that she could take the place of any model in the catalog. I suspect that the main reason that I am such an avid consumer of lingerie is that I love the glorious way it adorns her body. A long satin robe enhances her regal carriage a skimpy teddy shows off her long legs a wispy little nothing of a bra offers a sensual cover for her firm breasts. Although Susan enjoys wearing nothing but a pair of cotton briefs on most days, she encourages me in my quest to dress her up, because she has realized what a turn on it can be.

One of Susan s favorite outfits consists of a black lace push up bra and G string, with black mesh stockings and thigh high black boots with stiletto heels. She says that it makes her feel powerful. The lingerie she chooses to wear reflects her mood, and this has added a thrilling dimension to our love life. Knowing how important her opinion is to me, Susan often helps me make my selections. That night she perched on the arm of the chair, pointing out several items for my consideration. I had trouble concentrating on the catalog, because her unbelted robe fell open to reveal one perfect, creamy breast, the small dark nipple barely two inches from my cheek. If Susan had planned to distract me, her mission was a success.

I turned my head and delicately circled her nipple with the tip of my tongue until it became erect. Susan sighed contentedly and put her hand to the back of my head as I nuzzled her breast and took the nipple between my lips. She eased the robe off her shoulders and cupped her other breast lovingly with her free hand. The catalog slipped from my fingers. She bent her head to mine and we kissed deeply, a long, lingering blending of lips and tongues. Slowly she pulled away and stood before me, shrugging off the robe and letting it fall to the floor. She now wore only high heeled shoes and a tiny thong bikini made of flaming red silk. Susan looked at me, her hands on her hips, as an impish half smile raised at the corners of her mouth.

I leaned back and looked up at her. The thong was little more than a narrow strip of silk between her legs, held in place by an even narrower strip that arched over her hips and down between the cheeks of her buttocks. She turned around to model the flimsy garment, spreading her legs and bending forward so that I had a full view.

Tempted in this way, I could not help but take advantage of her seductive pose. I reached out and traced the line of red silk from the cleft of her asscheeks to where it was stretched tight across her pouting labia. I pressed gently, feeling her cunt lips yield to my touch. I continued forward until I reached the hard little bud of her clitoris, which I stroked gently. Susan rocked her hips against my hand and looked back at me with a smile. I stopped and put my hands on her hips, turning her until she was facing me again. I eased her down onto the footstool, and her breasts jiggled as she arranged herself. She looked at me expectantly as I slid out of my chair and knelt between her outstretched legs. I looked straight at her and licked my lips, which made her laugh and spread her legs even wider.

The crotch of the silk bikini was damp and perfumed with her essence, and I leaned forward and inhaled deeply. I licked her softly, grazing her silk covered slit and stopping before I reached her clitoris. When I finally flicked at it with the tip of my tongue, she gasped. I worked my tongue in circles around that precious nub of flesh, then began to probe against the slick material. Susan was leaning back, her hands clutching the edge of the footstool. She started to beg for the panties to come off. I agreed and rolled them over her raised hips and down her legs. Susan hooked her heels on the edge of the footstool and let her knees fall open.

What s your pleasure? I asked, kissing her creamy thighs.

I think you need to go on with what you were doing, Susan answered breathlessly. You don t want to leave the job half done.

With that, she crossed her ankles over my back and pulled my head back down between her thighs. I resumed licking and sucking, working my tongue faster and faster against her clitoris as she moved her hips in response. She was supporting herself with only one hand now. Her other hand, which had been at the back of my head, was now at her perfect little breasts, twisting the nipples far more roughly than I ever had. Her face was flushed and her lips slightly parted as she moaned with pleasure. I gently slipped a finger into her, then added another, and another, until all three were pumping inside her while I lashed at her clitoris with my tongue.

Susan erupted. Her head fell back. Her thighs clasped around my head, and her hips thrust up toward my mouth. Her free hand flew to my head, her fingers entwining in my hair, holding me in position. I felt her come again and again as her labia quivered, wet with saliva and her sweet juices. Her whole body vibrated like a taut violin string. After almost a minute, I felt her relax. She released me and I sat back on my heels, a smug grin on my face. Susan leaned forward and gave me a deep, lingering kiss. I picked up her thong bikini, wiped my lips, cheeks and chin, and tucked the bikini into my shirt pocket for next time.

When my wife really wants to make me crazy, she makes sure that I have the opportunity to watch her dress for work in the morning. This gives me something to think about during the day, she says, and the escalating anticipation pays off for both of us at night. On special occasions, she will make a point of selecting something businesslike and conservative to put on while wearing her wildest lingerie underneath. One morning Susan rolled on smoke colored seamed stockings and hooked them in place with a little black garter belt. Then she put on a matching black bra and slipped into a pair of black patent leather heels. Last of all, she stepped into a black G string and slowly pulled it up over her hips. It barely covered her in front and not at all in the back. My mouth watered as my eyes fell to her crotch, where her pussy lips were clearly outlined by the skintight garment. Then over this enticing ensemble, she put on her most severe power suit: a straight skirt that fell to below her knees, a crisp, cotton blouse and a jacket that completely camouflaged her figure. She kissed me goodbye at the train station and whispered Remember in my ear before heading off to work. And to make sure I did just that, she called my office a couple of times to recount in great detail what she was wearing under that suit.

That evening it was all I could do not to tear off her clothes and take her right there at the train station. I barely managed to control myself until we got home, as Susan kept nibbling on my ear while I drove. We pulled into the driveway and made it upstairs in record time. We embraced, kissing each other passionately, my lips roaming hungrily over her lips, cheeks and forehead. Not wasting any time, we pulled off each other s clothes. Susan had me naked in an instant, but I stopped once I had tossed her suit on the floor. The feel of the silky sheer nylon stockings was driving me wild. I rubbed my throbbing cock back and forth against her stockinged leg. Unable to wait a minute longer, I picked her up and carried her to the bed. Susan lay with her hands behind her head, one knee coyly raised, well aware that I was savoring the sight before me. My erection bobbing in front of her let her know I was ready. Susan crooked a finger, motioning me toward her.

I lay on top of her, and she spread her legs to accommodate me. I tried to take off the black G string, but she brushed my hand away. Taking my cock in her hand, she pushed the damp fabric aside and guided me into her hot depths. I had been turned on since breakfast time, so I immediately began fucking her hard and fast, my hips driving like a piston engine. Susan responded in kind, thrusting powerfully to meet me. We both climaxed in almost no time, then collapsed in each other s arms. When we caught our breath, I began to remove the lacy black underwear. I went slowly, one item at a time, kissing and caressing her pale skin as I exposed it. With well placed lips and hands, I brought her to another orgasm before she was completely undressed.

Recently we have discovered a new variation: elegant men s underwear. I don t mean paisley print boxers like those I normally wear I don t even mean fire engine red jockey shorts. My wife has gotten some catalogs of her own, and the most interesting items are arriving at our door in plain brown wrappers. First there were the bikinis, which I thought were pretty brief, but which my wife decided were not brief enough. After all, she pointed out, my bikinis aren t brief enough for you. I admitted she was right on that score, so I didn t object when she progressed to thong backed bikinis, then to sheer bikinis, then to string bikinis. Finally, she presented me with the briefest of them all. It was no more than a black nylon pouch held in place by a couple of elastic bands a G string similar to the type that male strippers wear.

Susan asked me to model my new gift for her, and as I had asked the same of her more than once, I went along with her request. My wife sat on the bed, lying back into a pile of pillows as she watched. She was wearing her old knee length t shirt, but by the time I had undressed, she had pushed it up around her waist. Susan spread her legs, and her fingers began playing in her moistening folds. This had an immediate and noticeable effect on me, and my rapidly expanding cock seemed to thrill her. Never taking her eyes off me, Susan slid her other hand under her shirt and began to play with her nipples.

I, in the meantime, was struggling to stuff myself into the tiny sling. In my current state, I filled the pouch almost to bursting. It fit with a snugness that, to my surprise, was delicious. The band in the back insinuated itself provocatively between my buttocks the pouch felt like a caressing hand. Susan stopped what she was doing long enough to applaud, then she told me to turn around so she could get the full effect. I did so, and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw that her hand was back at work under the shirt. I decided to give her some encouragement, so I bent forward and ran my hand over my bottom in a sexy manner. She must have enjoyed it, because she demanded more. I turned around and began running my hands along my thighs, just brushing the thin material of the pouch. Her hands worked faster and faster under the shirt and between her legs, her fingers madly circling her clitoris.

Still stroking myself and watching her, I climbed onto the bed. I moved closer until I was straddling her, the tightly packed pouch directly in front of her face. Susan grinned, then leaned forward and licked me through the thin nylon. She kept this up until the material was soaking wet, then she pushed the pouch to one side, allowing my aching penis to tumble out and bob stiffly before her. She captured my cock between her lips and sucked me, circling my cockhead with her tongue, and I sighed with pleasure. Susan hummed softly, setting off a gentle vibration in her throat that almost made me climax. She eased my cock from between her lips and kissed the tip, which was glistening with her saliva. She traced my cock across her skin, between her breasts, across her belly, leaving a damp trail that led to her silky bush.

Susan spread her legs and guided me into her. I sank into her wetness in one quick, easy stroke. We paused for a moment, gazing into each other s eyes and enjoying the sensation. She pulled off her t shirt, and I bent forward to suck her nipples. When my lips surrounded her pink nipple, she crooned softly. We both began moving our hips, slowly at first, then faster and harder. Soon we were pounding together, both of us quickly approaching the edge of orgasm. I pulled roughly at her nipples, and she responded by grabbing the sides of my G string to pull me deeper into her. Her urgent tugging on the thong made it dig sharply in between my buttocks, and the sudden sensation made me explode. Pulse after pulse of hot semen filled her, and Susan cried out and came shortly afterward. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, clutching me to her as her orgasm washed over her. We stayed like that for a long time, then I rolled over onto my side next to her. I took off the G string and held it up. It was a mess, soaked with saliva and come, but we both agreed that it had done the job.

Since that night, we have developed a wardrobe for special occasions. Sometimes one of us will have a request for a particular item other times we do fashion shows until we find something we re in the mood for. In any case, our erotic lingerie collection never fails to cue a dynamite lovemaking session.

At first I thought I was dreaming. Through half opened eyes, I saw Loretta s large, firm breasts resting against my chest. That was not unusual. What was unusual was that her breasts were encased in black lace.

Even half asleep, I realized I d never seen her in a black lace bra. She was always sensible in her attire, right down to her underwear, and her bras were no nonsense white and worn for support only.

My cock picked up on what was happening before my brain did, jumping to attention more quickly than it had in years. I opened my drowsy eyes wide just as Loretta moved her full breasts up to my mouth. My lips brushed against one, then the other as she moved her gloriously heavy tits back and forth across my face.

They were nice and warm as she rubbed her pointy nipples, lightly veiled by the black bra cups, against my chin. She leaned forward more, treating me to the warm valley formed by the soft fullness of her breasts pushed together by her bra.

Loretta and I had been married for six years. We hadn t started a family yet and we both worked very hard, Loretta running her own catering business and me working for an electronics company. We had become like two friendly roommates who got along pretty well and had lukewarm sex whenever we could pencil it into our busy schedules.

A friend of Loretta s, Jenny, had talked my wife into going to one of those sexy lingerie parties where the host throws a sales pitch to all the ladies. I d been vaguely aware of where she d been that evening, but I had no idea it was something that would change our lives.

I gasped for air as Loretta pulled back and allowed me to breathe. At the same moment she shifted her body slightly she was straddling me and her furry mound came into contact with my hard cock. I reached down to touch her thighs and found them encased in silky smooth stockings.

I saw her clearly now. The black stockings were attached to garters, but before I caught sight of the garter belt, Loretta s naked pussy stole my attention. It was beautiful, what with the way the moonlight shone off it, and I reached out to touch it. I had to search a little to find her wetness, but it was there, just beyond the rim of her hole. I fingered her until her juices ran down my fingers and she shifted to lower her pussy down onto my rigid shaft.

I watched her, and Loretta was in no rush, which was fine with me. She rode me slowly, with my hands on her hips. We had time before the alarm clock would go off. The leisurely pace at which we fucked was nice for a change.

For a moment there, when Loretta suddenly tightened her vagina, muscles around my cock, I was afraid I d come. But I managed to hold back, as she relaxed her grip and kept it that way for a while. Her ultra smooth stockings caressed my thighs, arousing me as my hands caressed her tits, enjoying their firmness and fullness through the black fabric of her bra, lacy but satiny along the sides. Loretta leaned back, away from my grasping hands. Up to this moment, she d never been very comfortable parading around nude or scantily clad, but now she was turning into a sexy show off! She took a deep breath, arching her back so that her tits jutted out, and she ran her hands over them. Now, I m always encouraging Loretta to touch herself, so seeing her do this, all by itself, almost made me spurt.

Through the bra she fondled her nipples, squeezing them between her fingers. Next she cupped her breasts and leaned forward, allowing me to touch her again.

Suck on them, she rasped. Please, please suck them! I placed my mouth against one lacy bra cup and sucked her nipple through the delicate fabric. Loretta moaned in pleasure and rode me harder. I matched her rhythm, and soon we were fucking like a jockey and her racehorse nearing the finish line.

We came at almost the same time, Loretta s moans turning to screams as her pussy squeezed the hot come from my cock. She drifted off to sleep in my arms, and I slept, too, waking in the dawn to gaze at this amazing woman.

That next day I had to go to New Orleans to an electronics convention, so I had some time in the car to think about the fantastic sex we d shared just last night. The sexy way Loretta was dressed clearly played a major role. I attempted to go into a lingerie shop and browse before I returned home, but I didn t have the guts to do it.

Fortunately, Loretta had been doing some shopping on her own while I was gone.

If the bra she d worn that first night had me flying, the one she had on now put me in orbit. It was red, of the thinnest see through fabric imaginable. It supported Loretta s heavy breasts just right, also allowing her the give she needed. And I have to mention the slits in the bra cups, designed so that her nipples peeked out enticingly. She wore no panties, no stockings, nothing below her waist.

I was out of my clothes in seconds flat, my cock already big and stiff. I reached out for Loretta, but she smiled seductively and whispered, No, not yet, sweetheart. Let me get ready for you.

I couldn t possibly imagine that she could be any more ready.

In red lace, she stood before me and started to play with her breasts, cupping them through the sheer ruby colored bra. Apparently she knew that this display of hers got to me. With her fingertips, she toyed with her nipples jutting out of the slits in her bra. Her nipples started to swell right away and I didn t think I d ever seen them become so erect. She flicked her nails back and forth across them as she moaned in pleasure. Her other hand drifted down her belly to nestle in her pussy.

She leaned back against the pillows on the bed and opened her legs as wide as she could. I was starting to get an idea of what dressing for sex involved the thrill came from what was barely covered, and from what wasn t, and the contrast between the two.

Now Loretta s heavy breasts jutted out with a provocative, almost petulant invitation. The sight of her nipples, dusky rose and swollen, was driving me crazy. I wanted to play with them myself, especially suck on them.

Loretta s pussy was shiny wet with her juices as she masturbated herself before my longing gaze. Lick it, she whispered hotly.

I lay down flat on my stomach on the bed between her spread legs and buried my face in her hot, juicy pussy, cupping her rounded ass in my hands.

Between breathy gasps, Loretta told me exactly how she wanted me to service her clit something she d never done before. Up and down, she wanted me to move my flicking tongue, instead of side to side as I d done the few times I d ever ventured to go down on her, and a little softer, a little faster, on the right side of her clit yes, right there was the most sensitive spot.

As Loretta got hotter and closer to coming, I went back to the scene recorded in my mind of her pleasuring her tits, working herself into a passionate frenzy as she tweaked and twisted and teased her nipples through the slits in her bra.

She came like never before, carrying on so, I was sure the neighbors could hear. Her pussy juices slicked across my cheeks and down my chin as I licked and gently sucked her. Her legs were like a vise holding my head a willing prisoner.

Meanwhile, my cock was begging for satisfaction, yearning to sink into the fiery nest of Loretta s cunt. As soon as she caught her breath, she drew me up to her, kissing me, licking her juices from my lips as our tongues found each other.

Her big tits felt fantastic as my hands caressed them through her sexy new bra, her nipples jutting out swollen and hot against my palms. I d waited too long to suck on them. I took first one, then the other into my mouth, reveling in the lace trim that tickled my tongue.

Loretta s breasts are the perfect size for double nipple sucking, and I pushed them gently together so I could get both ripe plums into my mouth at the same time. Just as I started sucking on them, Loretta guided my hard shaft into her pussy. She was so wet and hot, and I was already so worked up with yearning that I almost exploded in orgasm right then and there. Once more I managed to keep myself in check.

Well, for a little while anyway. Loretta s pussy started doing that tightening trick again, and I thought, whatever happens happens. She was crying out for more, and so I rammed her deep and hard. Her hips rose and fell as I fucked her, then her legs twined around my back.

Harder, she gasped, her breath hot in my ear. Oh, yes!

The friction was starting to build from Loretta s bra rubbing against my erect nipples. The fabric was actually scratching them, and it felt like I was running a marathon without Band Aids. My orgasm was rushing up like a locomotive out of control. We crashed together, our cries combining to form a carnal melody that echoed down the corridors of my mind as my semen spurted like liquid fire into Loretta s pussy.

Still later, when Loretta took the red bra off, her blushing tits got me hot and hard all over again. Loretta whispered to me to just lie back while she sucked me off. Her pace was leisurely, her method teasing, and it was absolutely the best blowjob she d ever given me until, that is, a night a few weeks later, when I brought home a little something of my own to wear to bed.

Feeling my cock growing harder and harder while imprisoned in the tight black nylon briefs I wore was very arousing. Usually, when I got into bed my underwear were discarded right away. That night I left my briefs on, and I could see that Loretta loved the look of my package encased in the slick and sexy black nylon.

So simple, the black briefs, but so electrifying for us both. Loretta gently pushed me back on the bed, spread my legs with her slender hands and began to lick my cock through my sexy briefs. After a while Loretta reached into my briefs to adjust my cock, as it had been pointing painfully downward.

Loretta s sexy evening attire consisted of a long, fluffy feather boa and nothing else. She knelt on the bed before me as I lay back with my cock begging to be let out to play. She pulled the boa back and forth across her naked tits, letting the ends trail across my chest, stimulating my nipples.

Let s try something a little different, she whispered as she teased my nipples and stroked my nylon covered cock.

To tell the truth, I was ready for anything, and I sensed that Loretta had something devilishly delightful in mind. I wasn t wrong. She lay back on the bed and opened her legs wide to expose her already wet pussy, pink against her black fur.

Fuck me, she rasped, but leave those on, she instructed, referring to my briefs. I got in position and rubbed my imprisoned cock up against her cunt, to her apparent delight. She smiled wide, moving with me as I applied most of the pressure to her clit. My hands cupped her tits, pushing them together so that I could suck on both nipples at the same time.

The feather boa, trapped between us, gave me the feeling that I was fucking a Vegas showgirl. Part of me wanted to tear my briefs off and plunge my shaft as deep into Loretta s hot pussy as I could, but I was loving this new experience. Her clit responded to my strokes by growing pebble hard against my cock. Loretta was on the road to orgasm, as was I.

She came first, arching her back, forcing her tits up into my hands while I held them tight, tonguing her plump nipples. My come shot out and collected in my tight briefs. It felt like something warm and gooey had just exploded inside my pants pocket. Still coming down from her orgasm, Loretta began to gently slip my briefs off. Then she used her tongue to do a bang up clean up job.

It s been three years since that first night Loretta wore lingerie for me. Since then, we ve shopped together for sexy garments for her and for me. In addition, we pore over the lingerie catalogs we receive in the mail every month. Hurray for lingerie!