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  1. #1
    Join Date
    Nov 2017
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    My creator's mind
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    2

    Liz's new lover (m/f)

    I'll proof this later.

    -----------------

    "Thirteenth and Harrison," Elizabeth said with a huff as she closed the door to the surprisingly luxurious sedan behind her. Her driver nodded, swiping the 'Start Ryde' bar to the right, and the meter began to roll.

    It was later - much later than Liz, as her friends called her, would have liked. Leaving the office after eight o'clock was never a good way to end an afternoon, especially a Friday afternoon, which also happened to be payday. She placed her shoulderbag on the other half of the rear seat, pleasantly surprised when she noticed the car was upholstered with clean, smooth leather.

    "What kind of car is this," she asked her driver. Some rideshare partners don't like to talk much, and many don't seem to speak English, but this one was clearly a local - he had short, spiked brown hair, a clean shaven face and sharpm hazel eyes, which caught her gaze momentarily in the rear view mirror.

    "Chrysler 300," he replied, and he smiled. "You like?"

    "Very much," she said with honesty. She ran her hand over the center console between the rear seats - also bound with leather - and very seriously considered slipping her work heels off for the ride home. "I don't usually get Rydes this nice...this morning's was a freakin' hatchback."

    The driver chuckled, and they pulled away from the curb. "Everyone starts somewhere," he said, as they pulled onto the street, which was empty at the moment due to the red light half a block behind them. "I'm Jason, nice to meetcha."

    "I'm Elizabeth...but," she considered him a moment, and realized he was sort of cute. "You can call me Liz."

    "Liz, no problem."

    She watched him for a moment as he made a left turn onto the arterial road. They would head to the highway, drive north about seventeen miles, then weave through some of the residential streets in the suburbs before he dropped her off at her painfully empty apartment that still smelled like new carpet and fresh paint. As he settled into his lane, his right arm came to rest on the center console, and he drove one-handed - not recklessly, but with the casual confidence of someone who drives for a living.

    "Do you do this full time?" Liz asked this as she adjusted herself in the plush seat, getting comfortable for the 25 or so minute trip. She crossed her nylon-clad ankles in front of her, since she had more leg room than usual. Again, she considered slipping off her dark blue shoes, knowing how wonderful her aching feet would feel to be free of their heeled prison. Other than the black hose and blue heels, she wore a matching dark blue knee-length skirt and a blazer, over her white blouse. She reached up to her neck and gathered her curly brown shoulder length hair to one side.

    "No no, this is a part time thing," he replied. "Party money, so to speak." He glanced at her again in the rear view, this time, his gaze lingering a bit more.

    Liz grinned to herself. He was kind of cute, in a nerdy sort of way. Maybe he was in IT guy, or an accountant, or something equally boring like that. Before she could inquire further, he returned her question.

    "What do you do in that great big skyscraper of yours?"

    "Oh, I'm just a rat in a maze," she said ruefully. "I'm basically a glorified PR marketeer for an advertising company. You know those digital billboards over on the freeway, the ones that change every 45 seconds or so?" Jason nodded. "I work deals with enterprise-level companies who jockey for ad slots."

    "Ah," Jason said, "so you're repsonsible for those bright nighttime ads that turn night into day at 3am."

    She nearly took offense, but she she saw the smile on his face and the mischevous grin in his eyes through the rearview, she couldn't help but giggle. He WAS cute.

    "Hey, I didn't put them there," she said, non-chalantly. "Besides, today I pretty much was just trying to keep two different clients from taking each other's heads off over a prime slot during rush hour."

    "Do you usually get off this late," Jason asked as the Chrysler merged onto the ramp for the highway, sliding between a white workvan and another one of those little hatchbacks. Maybe it was her driver from this morning.

    "No, very rarely...we had a big meeting in the afternoon and then an email war broke out between those two clients," Liz replied, and her voice broke over the word 'clients' like it had a foul smell. "The back and forth was infuriating, and if I dropped the ball on keeping everyone's head level, we might have lost both contracts." She ran her hand through her hair, closing her eyes and reflecting on the day's frustration.

    "Gotcha," Jason said. "Do you always dress so fancy, or is that snappy outfit just for the meeting?"

    They were properly on the highway now, and doing over 70, with everyone else. A driver in a hurry would have driven in the left lane, passing the slower traffic, and Jason was clearly about the same age as her - early or mid thirties, give or take. But Jason did not pass, and he didn't seem in much of a rush - he planted his heavy sedan in the right lane, and Liz watched as he set the cruise control with the buttons on the steering wheel, matching the speed of the other highway-goers.

    Liz decided not to take offense to the way he phrased his question, not just because he was cute, but because his tone was genuinely kind, without a hint of suggestion, that she could tell. She smiled at the compliment.

    "Yeah, this is just for the meeting," Liz started, "I work from home most of the time. Which is why I didn't bother driving in today...usually I'm all about the PJs and slippers."

    With the thought of slippers, she simply couldn't fight the urge any longer. She'd put her shoes back on when she was delivered home, but only to get inside and get to her beloved DearFoams. Besides, this Jason guy seemed nice, and Liz - having just moved to town last week, most of her posessions still in cardboard boxes strewn about her apartment - hadn't undressed in the company of a man in too long. She felt a little thrill go through her as she slid the blue shoes off of her pantyhosed feet, flexing her toes in the less-than-opaque nylon and sighing comfortably.

    ----------

    Jason's heart was beating just a touch faster than usual. His "Ryder," as the rideshare company he put hours in for called them, was fucking gorgeous, and friendly. It was like hitting the jackpot - considering most other Ryders were either drunk, had bad attitudes, or didn't like to talk. His friendly nature and outgoing desire to make friends - a stark contrast to how the things he liked to do behind closed doors with women like Liz - had spurred him on to chat with this woman, who seemed to be genuinely enjoying the conversation.

    The fact that Liz was wearing pantyhose - one of his true weaknesses - didn't exactly discourage him from being as nice as possible for the short time they would be together. Maybe, he thought, he could even get her number...

    His brain nearly stalled when he saw her shuffling around slightly in the backseat. He glanced in the rearview mirror, and saw that Liz's eyes were closed, as she adjusted and settled in for the rest of the trip. She leaned to her left, then back to her right, and sighed softly to herself with her eyelids still laying shut. She sighed through her nose - which was just as adorable as the rest of her, he through breiefly - before appearing to melt slightly into the leather seat beneath and behind her.

    As if he didn't know what she just did, he said, "Feel free to slide off your shoes, sit back and relax. There's a bottle of water in the door and a phone charger plugged in back there, so feel free to take advantage."

    She smiled back at him, which made his chest tighten. Her eyes looked a bit different now - they were still brown, but it wasn't the color he noticed. It was the personality behind them. She said, "Beat you to it, pal," before leaning back against the seat a bit more and, to Jason's delighted surprised, lifted her nylon-clad, perfeclty shaped foot into the air between the front seats, giving him a very distracting view of her stockinged sole in the rear view. She wriggled her encased toes at him playfully, then the beautiful foot disappeared.

    'Eyes on the road, before you kill us both,' Jason thought to himself as he snapped his attention back over the hood when her sole slid from sight. 'Jesus Christ, this woman is like a iced tea on a summer night.'

    The horny teen deep within him roared, but years of maturity and wisdom wrestled his younger self back down, and he spoke with a calmness that surprised himself. "Well if you're going to get that comfortable, you might as well stretch out and put your feet up on the console here," he said evenly. "I know you have more legroom than usual back there, but go on, make yourself at home."

    And to his surprise, she did. Without a word, and much to the aggravation of his already quickening pulse, Liz lightly placed her right leg over the leather-clad center console, then crossed her left ankle over it. The intoxicating scent of a day's hard work taking it's toll on clean, nyloned, feminine feet that had been in a pair of brand new shoes all day hit him like a twelve pound hammer. Jason's head tilted slightly and he looked over her pefect feet - her right sole, just visible through the half-sheer nylon, looked smooth and supple, the edges, heel, and ball of her foot shaded a slight blush. Her arch was high and pale, and her toenails were painted darkly, possibly black or blue, he couldn't tell. The toes of both feet slowly stretched and splayed, pulling the nylon taut between them and over, in her words, her "aching" skin.

    He forced his eyes back to the road, and a few moments passed of taut silence. His opportunity was fleeting, and he needed to be careful, as the next few moments held only a few possibilities he could think of. He could ignore this and be the professional driver that Ryder expects him to be. He could do something bold, and run the risk of offending his passenger, who might even call is assault. Or, he could...

    -----------

    Liz was taken back by her own daring, but she certainly didn't feel unjustified. Jason was good looking, friendly, outgoing...and when she stuck her foot high in the air, it definitely caught his attention. She wad been equally surprised when he so calmly invited her to be even more brave, suggesting she put her tired feet within his reach.

    What truly made her heart race, though, was when his free right arm rested over her pantyhosed shins, and his warm hand wrapped around her left foot.

    Silently, she gasped, but she didn't move. His fingers pressed against her sole, and she -

    Moaned. She fucking moaned. The sensible, proper thirty-four year old professional in her hollared in protest - 'OMG you're just going to let this stranger touch you?! WHat the FUCK, Liz?!' But the exhausted, sore, and drained young woman who hadn't had a boyfriend or even a one night stand in over six years nearly cried for joy.

    Liz's lips parted and she exhaled heavily as Jason's fingertips pressed firmly into her nyloned sole. She flexed her toes back gently, pressing her other heel into the soft leather and luxuriating in what felt like an experienced touch. His fingers slid along her arch, down over her heel, then back up to the ball of her foot, and she signed again, nearly shuddering from the flood of endorphins that her brain released at his touch.

    "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -" Jason started, his fingertips breaking contact with her warm sole, but, Liz noticed, not departing the area.

    Liz felt a sudden flush of warmth in both her cheeks and forehead. "Nonono, I'm sorry, that just...that felt so good." She angled her foot, pressing it against his hand again. The feeling of his fingertips pressing into her arch again sent a tingly, electric sensation up her nylon covered leg, and she felt the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Oh god," she muttered dreamily.

    She was diving in, head first, the way she did with so many other things in her life. She closed her eyes again, giving her what must have been a serene look, which stood in stark contrast to the hammering in her chest. She felt the wamrth of her bluch spreading down her neck, and goosebumps rippling down her forearms.

    'He could hurt you,' her inner sensibilities told her. 'He could kidnap you or be a freak, or he might have a toenail collection or some shit. Or maybe he lives with his fucking mother!'

    Shoving these negative thoughts aside, she reminded herself that everyone who used the Ryder platform - drivers and passengers - are very accountable, since all their personal information is stored on the company database. Also, Jason's rating was 4.97 - an uncommonly high standard to keep for someone who was listed as having given over 2,000 rides in his time as a driver. He must not be that awful.

    "So," she heard herself say, her lips feeling as though they were heavier than usual, "do you offer this service to all your passengers?" She playfully wriggled her thinly covered toes against his fingers as he continued his impromptu massage, causing him to take her big toe between his thumb and index finger, rolling it slightly while giving it a slight pinch. She fought to contain the moan of pleasure that swelled as a result, instead giving the center console between the rear seats a gentle squeeze of her own.

    Jason's voice was steady, confident, and unimposing - something Liz noticed with great attraction. "Not at all - then again, I rarely have anyone in here that's as...friendly as you are."

    Jason's hand slid down her foot and cupped her heel, his thumb pressing into the side of the fleshy pad and stroking slowly, front to back. His fingertips did the same on the other side, each one pressing down just after the next, sending a ripple of tension relief through Liz's entire body. She could feel something stirring in her tummy, the spark and smolder of an arousal she thought she might have forgotten.

    "Friendly..." Liz mutteres dreamily. "I guess you could call it that. You're pretty nice, yourself, Jason." She said his name with intentional thickness, and it had exactly the reaction she wanted. She felt his hand squeeze her aching heel gently, then his fingertips stroked along her sole, from heel to toes. She giggled happily, a short burst of ticklishness making her foot jerk slightly. There was a moment of hesitation, where Jason left his fingertips touching the ball of her foot, but not moving.

    "Sorry," he said, glancing back in the mirror and making eye contact again.

    "No, it's okay, I'm just very ticklish, especially on my feet." Liz smiled at her driver, who, she reminder herself, would be delivering her home in about another ten minutes. "My pedicurist nearly has to tie me down when I go every month, it's so awful."

    ----------------

    Jason's mind and heart was racing faster than a thoroughbred, and his pulse was absolutely thrumming in his ears - and below his waist. Liz's nyloned soles were soft, shapely, smooth and perfect. He may have been imagining it to a certain degree, but his car's whole interior now smelled like her gorgeous, obviously well-kept pantyhosed feet. Liz openly and willingly admitted to being ticklish, and she was practically throwing her sensitive peds at him.

    He felt lightheaded, almost dizzy - which wasn't good for someone who was doing seventy on the highway. If this kept up, he might miss his turn - although, on second thought, he'd have even more time to play with the impossibly flawless feet benath his hand, so maybe it would be worth it.

    When he spoke, it came as a slight surprise, but his voice was again calm and smooth. "There's nothing wrong with being ticklish...in fact, you should be glad."

    He stroked his index finger lightly along her arch again, curling it slightly and letting his fingernail drag along the thin nylon. Liz squealed playfully, tugging her foot away briefly before putting it right back as she dissolved into another giggle. "Why is that," she asked happily.

    "I feel terrible for people like me who aren't ticklish," Jason said, "look at what it does. You're smiling and laughing, and who doesn't enjoy that?"

    Liz nodded. "You have a point. But sometimes it's so intense!"

    "That can be fun, too," Jason said, and Liz's mind wandered for a moment. Thoughts of him tickling her feet, both at the same time, made her grin again, and she wriggled her nylon-clad toes.

    "I don't know if I would like that," she said, looking out the window now. They were almost there, only a few minutes out. Jason's hand went back to massaging and caressing her stockinged foot, and it got quiet as they approached the exit for her neighborhood. The silence wasn't exactly awkward, and Liz closed her eyes in relaxation as he continue to pamper one of her feet.

    Liz jumped slightly when the car came to a stop. She hadn't actually fallen asleep, but she had begun to drift, and the lack of road noise brought her back to the present. "We're here, dear," Jason said in a somewhat sing-song voice, but Liz didn't move, and his hand gently caressed the top of her foot. She shifted around, sitting up, and leaned forward, pressing her heel into the leather of the console they rested on.

    "I know this is a little...forward," she said in a soft tone, "but would you like to come up with me and show my other foot the same attention?" Her inner saleswoman came out when she said this, but she didn't think she was far from closing.

    Jason's hand gave her pantyhosed foot a final, gentle squeeze. "I would love to."

    Jason parked a short distance from the front door to her building and turned off the Ryder app on his phone. Liz slid her shoes back on - smiling to herself and very much looking forward to having someone else take them off for her - and they walked up to her mostly empty fifth floor apartment, at Thirteenth and Harrison.

    --------------

    Liz's head was swimming with trepidation and excitement as they waited for the elevator. Jason gazed at her, hungrily, and when she looked him in the eyes, she felt her heart give a loud thud in her chest. She smiled girlishly and looked at her blue shoes, feeling the heat spreading in her face again. The elevator gave a happy 'ding,' the doors slid open, and they stepped into an empty lift.

    She did nothing to stop Jason when he pressed her roughly against the wall of the elevator, planting a passionate kiss onto her lips and holding her there by the waist. Liz kissed him back, as hungry for attention as he seemed to be, sliding her hands up his back and pulling him against her shamelessly. She lifted one sleek, black leg and hooked it around his jeans, only now noticing what he was wearing - those, and a light blue, collared button-down over a plain white undershirt.

    His lips were soft and skillful against hers, his tongue gently parting her lips but not invading her awaiting mouth, and a niggling thought occurred to her - he must kiss a lot. But when his hand slid down to her rear end and yanked her away from the wall of the elevator, pressing their hips together, she felt his rock hard erection against her thigh, and nearly forgot how to think.

    Liz didn't notice that they were on her floor. She didn't notice Mrs. Johansen, her elderly neighbor, staring slack-jawed at them as Jason guied her out into the hallway, nor did she hear the old woman's disgust when she yelled for her younger neighbor and her accomplice to go get a room. After all, that's exactly what they were about to do. Liz broke the liplock with a pang of disappointment, took Jason's hand, and led him to her apartment, number 517.

    She practicaly had to run away from him after leading him into her new (to her) home. She dashed to the couch - the only major piece of furniture in her living room other than the small entertainment center and coffee table - as he closed and deadbolted the door behind him, turning back to her with a misceivous grin. He prowled towards her, and she scooted her butt back on the cushions, planting herself in the corner by the armrest. As he approached, a predatory fire blazing behind his eyes, she lifted her right foot, pointing the heel of her blue shoe at him.

    "I want you to do to this one what you did to the other one," Liz said, her voice sounding much more serene and sexy than her pounding pulse felt, "but for longer."

    It was like saying the magical phrase that unlocked a secret room. Jason placed one hand on her nyloned calf muscle, supporting her leg in the air and letting his eyes briefly flit to the darknes between her thighs and under her skirt. He probably couldn't help it, she realized, and besides, his attention turned right back to her shoe. After all, she was planning to let him explore down there, too, if he kept playing his cards right.

    With her leg's weight held out in front of her, she bit her lip as she watched him slowly slide the shoe from her nyloned foot. He was deliberate, his eyes now fixed upon the curve of her heel as he gently let the lip of her shoe scrape along her soft sole. He carefully finished removing the footwear, her covered but exposed foot now dangling freely in the cool apartment's air. The shoe dropped to the floor with a thud, and she playfully protested.

    "Heyyy! Those were expens-"

    This was all she was able to say before his lips planted against her arch. She gasped deeply, her eyes widening and her toes splaying back, stretching the black, semi-sheer nylon fabric over her arch and the ball of her foot. Her back arched almost as much as her sole, and Jason's eyes closed as he planted kiss after kiss against her the pale, barely shielded skin. She felt his tongue darting up and down against her sole, and deep within her, her arousal roared. His lips playfully skittered up along her work sole, kissing and lightly nibbling the ball of her foot, and she gently scrunched her toes, pressing them against his nose as she felt him inhale the scent of her foot.

    "Y-you like my feet," she said haltingly. Her chest was heaving up and down as she tried to catch her breath, the strange and lovely sensation of his nibbling teeth scraping her pantyhosed sole. She gently pushed her leg forward, pressing the entirety of her sole against his face, and his hands wrapped around her foot, a lover's embrace, as he mumbled "mm hmmm" against her nylons.

    Liz slid off her other shoe, letting it tumble to the floor with it's partner, and slid her sole up along his leg, letting it playfully press against his crotch and curling her toes around him. 'Oh my, he's big,' she thought to herself excitedly, 'and very happy...' She could feel him throbbing underneath her foot, and when she rubber up and down with it, she felt him tremble slightly.

    Jason sat down, never allowing his lips to leave her sole. Liz lifted her free foot away from him as he did so, draping it over the back of the couch and hiking her skirt slightly up her thighs to allow her to spread herself as needed. Jason began kissing each individual toe, nipping them one by one before moving onto the next. One of his hands cupped her nyloned heel and his other hand slid back and forth along her calf, and Liz sighed in ecstasy as he did so. Propped up with her elbows behind her, she let her head fall lazily backward, her brown hair brushing the arm of the couch as Jason lavished her foot with attention she never knew she so deeply needed.

    This went on for several minutes, with Jason kissing and caressing her sensitive foot, and Liz feeling herself becoming increasingly moist down below as she slowly writhed and occasionally groaned. If this kept up, she'd need to be out of these hose and panties soon, or she'd soak right through both. She could already feel her underwear getting slick against her warming lower lips. It had been much too long since someone paid any attention to her, letalone with such exquisite detail and skill. As he continued to worship her foot, she brought her leg down from the back of the couch and pressed her free foot against his cheek. His attentions shifted to it, and he sucked her sole for several minutes more, taking her nyloned toes into his mouth and gently nibbling underneath each one. His hands took each of her ankles, holding both her sensitive feet against his face as he lavished them with his mouth, tongue, and teeth.

    She couldn't help it. She was so damned wet, she knew that little cloth patch between her legs would he dark with her wetness, so she hiked her skirt up to her wais, then moaned with a deep pleasure as she slid one hand between her thighs, stroking the patch on her pantyhose lightly with her fingertips. She was right - sopping wet. She stroked her index finger up and down against herself, slowly tracing her lips and gasping with each lingering touch. She leaned back against the arm of the chair and revelled in the sensations for what felt like...minutes? Tens of minutes? Who cared - Jason wasn't stopping any time soon, it seemed, so she continued to please herself without abandon. She didn't want to cum - not yet, she wanted her new lover to make her do that - but one thing she had learned was thoroughly enjoyable over the last several years of lonliness, was teasing herself to the edge of orgasm again and again, not letting herself over the brink until she had driven herself absolutely crazy with need. With Jason pushing the buttons on her feet - which she wouldn't have thought of as erogenous zones, not in a million years - she might not need to wait too long.

    Her breathing became heavier and more desperate as she got closer. Jason's singleminded intent to kiss every inch of both her pantyhosed feet was so intense, she knew he must have had a fetish for them, and she was perfeclty okay with that. It took much less time with him loving her soles to reach her edge, and she gasped sharply as she nearly drove herself to orgasm with one last flick between her legs.

    She opened her eyes when she felt Jason pause. She looked at him hazily, and he was gazing right back at her. "Seems like this works for you," he said, grinning, his lips moist. She could feel the dampness he left on her nylons, and she splayed and scrunched her toes at him, giggling.

    "You too," she shot back, but her voice was thick with arousal, and she could feel the heat of it in her chest, across her face, and, of course, spreading down her thighs. She wondered briefly if he would understand how she liked to tease herself, and if he would be willing to do the same, but, in spite of herself, she felt too embarassed to mention it. Yet.

    Jason spread her legs slightly, an ankle in each hand, and he returned his attentions to her nylon covered flesh. This time, he kissed the bone of her ankle, then the side of her calf. "Let's play 'Red Light.' I'll be the firetruck, and when it gets too intense, you say red light."

    Liz nodded heavily, leaning her head back again and closing her eyes. His lips began to explore her calf, kissing up and down as he held her one pantyhosed leg up in the air, allowing her other foot to fall to the carpeted floor, dangling off the edge of the couch. He adjusted himself, leaning closer to her, kissing the hollow of the back of her knee. He then slid his tongue into that crease, and she squealed in delight, the tickly sensation shooting up her thigh and sparking the embers between her legs again. She could swear she felt herself drip against her panties.

    His attentions continued further, kissing the inner part of her knee, then her thigh, then her inner thigh as he pushed himself away from her on the couch. He pushed her leg up and over the back of the sofa, and planted a firm kiss so high on her inner thigh, she could feel the warmth of his face against her crotch. She gasped, 'red light!' and snapped her head back up, looking down at him, her head swimming in blazing arousal.

    Jason looked up at her with a sly, nearly evil look. "Firetrucks don't stop for red lights." His face darted between her nyloned thighs, and Liz shrieked with ecstasy as his mouth wrapped firmly over her soaking crotch.

    His tongue flicked up and down over the embarassingly wet patch between her legs, stroking over the nylon at first, right where her thigh met her womanhood. Then, he pressed his tongue flat against her core, the cloth patch and panties feeling like they were doing very little to protect her. Her nails dug into the cushions of the couch as she moaned, and she pressed her hips forward against his face, absolutely loving the shock of sensation as it invaded her nerves. She wrapped her black-clad legs over his back and ran her hands through his hair, and she felt his tongue exploring over her clit, pressing the soaked material firmly against her and making her throb.

    "Ohhh god stop, stopstopstop," she begged, her orgasm building so suddenly, moreso than she had ever felt before. It was hurrying towards her wetness like a freight train, and she was almost scared of it. He looked up, sliding his hands underneath her nyloned ass and grabbing her towards him.

    "What's wrong, Liz," he asked, a worried look crossing his face.

    "I...I don't want to..." she stammered, her cheeks bright pink and her heart absolutely pounding away in her chest. "I want to be teased. I don't want to cum yet," she finally got out, and a wave of relief and attraction crashed over her as she watched him grin widely.

    "That's fine...for now." Jason slid off of the couch, which he was practically laying on anyway by this point, and stood up. "Besides, I was hoping to...get some of these clothes off of you, anyway."

    "I'll be right back," she said, eagerly springing to her feet, her nyloned soles feeling somewhat tickly as they pressed against the carpet. She started towards her bedroom, revelling in the pressure and heat between her lower lips, when Jason caught her by the wrist.

    "No no...I want to do it." He looked at her ravenously, as if he were about to devour her right on the spot. She shivered in his grasp, squeaking with anticipation.

    Jason led her to her own room, with a confidence that only came from having seen her start in that direction. He pushed the door open with his free hand, tugging her along by the wrist with the other. She nearly stumbled over her own stocking feet in her excitement to follow him, and she loved that he was taking charge in such a caring and respectful way. He gently pushed her onto her rump on the end of her bed, which was covered in light pink sheets with gray accents. She giggled as she bounced, and he gave her another gentle push, laying her onto her back. her calves and feet dangled over the edge of the bed, her knees conforming to the corner of the mattress.

    After a moment, Jason's sneakers - which Liz had never bothered to notice or care about previously - were on the floor at the foot of her bed, and he was on top of her, straddling her waist. He hiked her blazer off of her and she squealed happily when he tugger it over her head, lifting her arms up and planting a kiss on her bicep. He then unbuttoned her blouse, slowly, one button at a time, as Liz bit her lip and felt her pulse quickening again. He laid the white fabric open, her black, lacy bra revealed for him to enjoy. Jason's hands cupped her breasts and gave them a gentle squeeze, and Liz sighed in pleasure.

    "Now, it's going to be up to you to dictate how this goes." He smiled down at her, and she returned his gaze with a touch of confusion. Jason explained, "I want you to reach up and grab the bars of your headboard," and he motioned towards the vertical slats at the upper end of the bed, "and no matter what you do, don't let go. Got it?"

    She nodded, a childish grin on her face, the challenge before her seeming simple enough. She reached up, but the bars of her headboard were too far away, so she scooted backwards like a crab, lifting her hosed feet and planting her heels against the edge of the bed for leverage. Jason lifted his weight up, and she slid partially out from underneath him, losing her unbuttoned blouse in the process and tossing it aside. Liz grasped the bars, her head plopping against the pillow, and she looked down at him. "Do your worst."

    Jason couldn't smile any wider than he already was. He unclasped her skirt, slid it off of her legs, and spent more time than he needed to tugging it over her nyloned feet. He gave them each several little kisses and Liz giggled girlishly, and she hooked her thumbs into the waist of her pantyhose, making to remove them along with her soaked panties.

    Quickly, Jason's hands shot up and grabbed her by the wrists. "No no," he said sternly, "those stay on."

    "But how will you -"

    "Shhhh." Jason guided her arms back up, and the bemused girl did as she was told before, reaching up and grabbing the bars. "I told you, hold onto that headboard, or I'll stop."

    Liz was somewhat confused, but intrigued. Jason obviously had a foot fetish, maybe he has a thing for pantyhose, too. 'That's okay,' she thought to herself through the haze of sexual arousal flooding her, 'if seeing me in pantyhose makes him this hard, I might have to wear them every day.' Her mind almost shuddered at the sudden thought of the future, and she cast it aside, wanting to enjoy the present rather than thinking of more serious topics.

    Her small hands grasped the bars tightly and she looked down at Jason again, who was now leaning over her and planting light kissed against her lower ribs, just south of her bra, while simultaneously tugging her pantyhose back up to her waistline. She tittered happily as he nibbled her lower ribs, sucking in her tummy and arching her back, gasping as she pushed up against him.

    With her arms over her head, she felt so exposed, but it was wonderful. The cool air of her bedroom danced over her naked skin, and she felt more goosebumps ripple up her arms and down her pantyhosed legs. She spread the latter, wrapping them around Jason's waist as he kissed and nibbled between her breasts. She squealed and twisted as his fingertips began to dance lightly against her hips, stroking her sensitive waist through the nylon. She held onto the heaqdboard tightly as she began to laugh, tossing her head slightly back and forth as the ticklish sensations invaded her body and spurred on her arousal.

    "Staahahapit! I'm ticklish," she protested, but he ignored her plea, and she continued to hold onto the bars over her head. As maddening as the light tickly sensations were, she was so damned horny she didn't want to risk making him stop. Her knuckles turned pale with the strain of grasping the bar. As Jason's lips caressed the tops of her breasts and his fingers began to skitter upwards towards her exposed underarms, she couldn't bear the tickles any longer, and she let go, her arms shooting down to her sides and trapping his warm hands against her bare skin.

    "Come onnnn, that isn't fair!" She smiled brightly up at him, still giggling softly and pushing her hips against his. She was starting to think about the sensation of having those nylons caressing and encasing her waist, legs and feet in a completely different way, and she thoroughly enjoyed it, but the tickling was new to her, and too intense. "I can't keep my arms up if you're gonna tickle me!"

    Jason gazed down at her. "Then I guess I will just have to tie them there."

    The look he gave her was one of deep desire and intent. It scared Liz, but only for a moment - then, her arousal took over again, and she reached back up to the bars, this time with her wrists pressed together. "Only if you can find something to tie me up with," she said, her voice thick with implication.

    If someone had told her earlier in the day that this was how she'd be spending her night, she'd have called them insane. But now, with her womanhood absolutely dripping with anticipation, and the cool air in her room making her nipples stand at attention underneath her bra, she watched Jason lustily as he dismounted her waist, strode into her bathroom, and came back out with the waist tie for her fluffy white robe. She held her arms out over the bed, wrists together, and shakily breathed a sigh of desire as he looped the soft cotton about and between her wrists, knotting it and tying them to the headframe.

    "Now you have me all helpless, mister Ryder...whatcha gonna do now?" She smiled at him playfully, not knowing how intense the next few hours would be for her.

    "Make you scream," he replied, matter-of-factly.

    Jason tugged her by the hips along the bed, stretching her bound arms high over her head and making her gasp with delight. Her tight breasts jiggled under her bra and her nipples strained against the lacy fabric as Jason remounted her waist, straddling her and pinning her to the bed. She bent her knees, cradling his lower back against her pantyhosed thighs.

    "You can't fuck me if you're sitting on to-"

    This was all she managed before her shriek of hysterical laughter burst from her lips. Jason's hands shot down to her exposed, naked ribs and he began to flutter his fingertips against her sides, probing between each rib, up and down. Her scream dissolved into peals of giggles and she immediately began to beg.

    "EEEEEEEEeheeheehee, no no no pleeease, aahahahahaaha oh god no not this, aaaahahahahaha!" Her head thrashed back and forth and her slippery nyloned soles kicked uselessly against the sheets of her bed. She tried to buck her hips underneath Jason, but he had her pinned so thoroughly to the bed, she felt even more sensitive just because of how little she could move. He outweighed her by at least 50 pounds, and with her nyloned soles sliding against the sheets and giving her no leverage at all, she could do nothing to stop him, apart from begging.

    "Nope," he said simply, smiling an evil yet caring smile down at her, continuing his ticklish assault on her sides. His fingers nimbly walked up and down her sides, skipping over her bra strap and vibrating against her skin. She squealed, rasping laughter after every sucking inhale, the delighted hysterics surprising even her. She always knew she was intensely ticklish, but had never really been tickled before, letalone while unable to do anything about it and searingly horny. The feeling of his weight against her hips, securing her to the bed, combined with the slick sensation of her soaking panties pressed to tightly against her molten core, mingled with the electric bolts of ticklishness that were causing her tits to juggle and shake beneath their thin bra. This had only been going on for a few seconds, and she was wondering if she ever would really want it to stop.

    Her laughter continued in earnest as Jason's hands explored her ribcage, stroking and scratching lightly against her flesh, then prodding and wriggling more deeply into the ridges formed by the ribs themselves. Her bucking slowed, and she thrashed her head gleefully side to side, squealing with mirth. Her lips hung open and her white teeth showed as she laughed, gasping for air between fits of giggles.

    Jason leaned down closer to her, supporting his weight along her sides with his elbows, and his fingertips began to graze the soft spot where her underarms met her ribs. Her eyes shot open, and she found herself gazing at a man who was intent on torturing her until she was fit to burst.

    "I'm going to tickle you until you cum, little girl," he muttered in a low, gravely tone.

    Liz felt as though she were falling into a pit of ecstasy, Jason's words weighing her down. She went from begging him not to tickle her, to deeply wanting him to never stop, just like that, and she felt her womanhood surging with need, throbbing with each pulse of her racing heart. She almost had time to have a thought about how her panties would need to be put through the wash several times, but the explosion of ticklishness in her underarms wrought all thinking ability from her mind.

    Jason's fingertips stroked her pale, shaven skin, invading her armpits with practiced skill. They glided along her taut, smooth flesh, and she did in fact scream with laughter. Jason winced slightly at the sharp sound, but smiled broadly as he continued his assault on her poor underarms and her laughter resumed. Liz's eyes opened and she locked gazes with her torturer, still squealing and going absolutely mad with ticklishness and sexual need, and his head lowered, kissing her on the lips.

    What happened next confused the poor girl. Her breath caught in her chest, her laughter abruptly stopped, but the ticklishness that was driving her wild only got more intense. She planted her nyloned soles on the bed, grunted, and felt herself squirting into her panties as her underarms caught on fire with torturously ticklish sensation. She felt Jason's tongue stroking against hers, her eyes screwed tightly shut, as her entire body quaked in orgasm. Again and again she felt herself soaking through the panythose and underwear, almost certainly making a mess on her own bed, her body writhing underneath the man who was making her cum without touching her womanhood at all.

    After what felt like several minutes, thought it was only 15 seconds or so, Jason finally broke the liplock. Liz gasped a deep, desperate breath, her head swimming and feeling like she were apt to pass out, and her nyloned ass slammed back onto the sheets. Her chest heaved and her back arched as she fought to catch her breath, and her nipples felt as hard and stiff as battery terminals beneath her bra. Jason has stopped tickling her underarms, but she could still feel the aftershooks of sensation on her soft, sensitive skin. Though she couldn't see them, both her armpits had turned a slight shade of blush from his ministrations.

    It was several more seconds before Liz could open her eyes, and she looked up at Jason with bleary contentment. "Oh my god, I just..." Her voice trailed off dreamily.

    "I know," was all Jason said as he dismounted her, Liz's limp, spent body practically melting into her sheets.

    Liz closed her eyes again, focusing on getting herself back together, no longer even feeling the cool air or the binding around her wrists. Her legs laid splayed across the bed, the dark patch at her crotch having spread down her thighs. A small, moist puddle was on the sheet beneath her womanhood, but she neither noticed it nor would care if she had.

    After a few moments, Liz heard a metallic 'flick,' and looked down to see Jason, between her legs, pocket knife in hand. She tensed up quickly, the post-orgasm haze clearing in an instant, before Jason soothed her.

    "Relax, sweetie," he said calmly, "I just want...better access." The knife disappeared from view as Jason's free hand slid under the waist of her pantyhose, pulling them taut and away from her waist. She felt the tension as the tip of his blade pressed against her hose somewhere out of sight, then the sudden release as it slid through. "I've always been confused by this little cloth patch here," he said in a very business-like tone, I have no idea what it's for, apart from outlining what's beneath it perfectly."

    Liz's excitement began to grow as she realized what he was doing. After a few momoments and the sounds and sensations of metal shearing through the soaked fabric, he tossed the small patch of cloth aside, letting it fall to her carpeted bedroom floor. She felt a very slight cool breeze against the crease of her thighs, and she knew that only her soaked pantes now stood between her lover and her jewels. She felt him brushing away small bits of remaining fabric, and she gasped as his fingertips grazed and stroked her oversensitive pussy through her black panties.

    "Oh my god, please, I don't think I can stand it," she pleaded honestly, not sure if more stimulation would drive her mad. Only a few seconds later, and before she could protest, Jason had tugger the crotch of her panties away from her sopping vagina and sliced through them as well. he tugged her destroyed panties up her waist, revealing them from underneath the nylon pantyhose, and snipped the waistband easily, discaring her sinfully wet undergarment in the same general direction as the cloth patch that once helped thinly protect her womanhood. "Did you - did you bring protect-"

    She started to ask the most important question of the night, but was cut off by a quick gasp of immeasurable bliss as Jason's mouth went to work. He slid both arms underneath her pantyhosed legs, wrapping them around her legs and grasping her inner thighs with his hands from the front, spreading her wide. His lips pressed tightly over her bare, steamingly hot womanhood, and she felt his tongue press flat against her slick, pink skin. She tried to arch her back, but his arms were wrapped tightly around her legs, and he seemed to be pulling her towards him, stretching her taut and straining the binding that held her wrists firmly in place. She screamed in desire, an unintelligible shriek of pleasure that echoed off the walls of her room.

    His tongue was firm, wet and hot, and it sent streaks of mind-bending pleasure through her entire, helpless body. Her nylon covered legs wrapped tightly around his back as he devoured her, flicking his tongue against her hard little throbbing clit, sliding it in and out of her quivering, pulsing hole, and stroking up and down along the crease where her thighs met her womanhood. He took her clit between his lips, sucking it into his mouth, and ran his tongue fervently over it again and again.

    She could only bear this for a few seconds. She pounded her nyloned heels weakly into his back muscles as she came again, this time, feeling herself squirt against his face. He lapped her juices of arousal up greedily, never slowing down his attention to her lips and clit. She shrieked hoarsely as she came for him, pulse after pulse of pleasure making her hands clench into fists so tight, she'd leave imprints of her own nails on her palms for hours to come.

    The orgasm began to fade away and her muscles began to relax, but Jason wouldn't stop. Bemused, Liz tried to plead for mercy, tried to beg him to please stop, it's too much, it's too intense, but Liz suddenly felt the sensation of running down a hill too fast, or leaning back in an office chair a little bit too far, and suddenly, her pussy was clenching again, and she was simply unable to muster the breath to scream. Her body convulsed violently as she experienced the most intense orgasm of her life, her thighs feeling like they might cramp and her toes clenching beneath her pantyhose, her head snapping up to look down over her helpless body at the head that was devouring her tight, quivering pussy. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours, and stars exploded in front of Liz's eyes as she fought to draw breath. The sensation was simply too much, and the last thought she had before slipping into the black of unconsiousness was, 'this all started with my sore feet!'

    ---------------

    Liz groggily opened her eyes. Her thighs burned, even though they were soaked with her own juices, and the pantyhose between her thighs - now pressed together, as she noted her legs were closed - felt warm and moist against her skin. Her pink, soaked pussy still felt sore and ached for even more attention, and her head spun with the sudden realization that she couldn't speak or see. The taste of her own balled up, soaked panties filled her mouth, and she felt some sort of ace bandage or wrapping surrounding her mouth, neck and head, encasing her so that only her nose stuck out. In the blackness behind her makeshift blindfold, she also realized her ankled were snugly tied to the end of her bed, and that she was stretched taut and helpless across the mattress, her bra gone and her body entirely naked and exposed except for the pantyhose she still wore.

    She moaned, the sound exhausted and thick with post-orgasm confusion. It was the last sound she heard before the sensation of ticklish torture shot up from her bound, nyloned, slippery soles, as Jason held back her big toes, stretching the soft nylon across her feet and stroked both soles with his free hand. Liz tried to buck, but she was pulled so tight across her bed she had no room to even wriggle, and she squealed hoarsely into her panty gag. Squeals turned into muffled guffaws, and soon, screams of tortured, coarse laughter, as Jason slid his fingernails over her slick soles, exploring every little ticklish inch of her feet.

    She felt his mouth on her soles again in addition to the tickling, and with a deep fear of what was to come, she also felt her womanhood stirring back to life. As she twisted on the bed under his torturous manipulation, she couldn't help but feel her own soaked pussy lips sliding against each other, her clit beginning to throb again with helpless abandon, and her nipples standing back at attention. She screamed again when she felt him sliding a small vibrator between her legs, inserting it into her tight, quivering pussy and turning it on, before returning to the tickle torture of her nyloned soles. As the first of many, many more orgasms began to flood her tight little body, she faintly wondered how she never explored this particular set of fetishes before - and hoped to have plenty of time to explore them in the future.

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Apr 2001
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    Frederick, MD
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    WOW

  3. #3
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    Apr 2009
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    USA
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    A very good story. Perhaps we will see more of these two in the future

  4. #4
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    Dec 2002
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    Dude....excellent story in every way. Very well written. Very.

  5. #5
    Join Date
    Mar 2003
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    San Francisco Bay Area
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    I loved your story.
    Deliciously descriptive.

  6. #6
    That was hot!

  7. #7
    This is a 10. Period!

  8. #8
    That was hot as hell. Loved the balance of torture and mutual satisfaction.

  9. #9
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    May 2008
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    uk
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    Really well written, great stuff.

  10. #10
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    Great story, very well written!
    "Hard work beats talent when talent fails to work hard."

  11. #11
    Join Date
    Aug 2018
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    4
    This was unbelievably hot, great story.

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