Flatmates and Fetishes Pt. 03

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I’m standing, naked in the middle of the living room.

It’s been five minutes since Jess turned and stalked purposefully to her room, after commanding me to dress in her pantyhose, which are soaked in our cum.

I’m in disbelief. Is this really happening? Yesterday Jess was my smart, fun, cool friend, and my flatmate. Today she is… Well I don’t know what she is. All I know is that we have found a connection I was never expecting. A connection with a thirst satisfied only with our bodies, and a shared fetish.

Is it shared? Suddenly I’m nervous that this is all one big joke. Is she toying with me? Pretending so she can tell all our friends?

I feel my pulse quicken. But as it does, the memories of our evening flash through my mind: of how she masturbated with me, of how she asked me to touch her, and of how she gripped my engorged cock between her nylon-covered thighs and told me to fuck them until I came. Of how she screamed when she came too.

My pulse keeps pace, but for a different reason now. This is real. And this is thrilling.

I look down at her black, shiny pantyhose in my hand. I need to put them on. I’ve seen women dress in them before, but I’ve never worn a pair. Remembering what I’ve seen, I gather one of the legs up, finding the foot. The material feels so soft, so silky, and so light. It stimulates every nerve in my hands. Cautiously, I draw the nylon over my right foot and begin to work Jess’ pantyhose up my calf, stopping just over the knee. Then I put my right foot to the floor and draw her pantyhose over my left foot, then calf, then knee. Then oh so slowly I begin to draw them up my thighs.

As I work the pantyhose up my thigh the sensation changes. The cool, soft material gives way to something warmer and wetter. I had cum all over Jess’ thighs in these pantyhose only a few minutes ago. Now the cum-soaked nylon is tight against my skin. My recently-sated cock begins to stiffen once more.

The sensation is incredible. The idea of what I am wearing and why sets my mind alight. I am trembling with excitement, and pure sensory pleasure. As I encase my legs in sheer, silky, wet nylon, electricity flows between my thoughts and my cock.

My legs are encased, and now I’m working Jess’ pantyhose over my hips and ass. My cock, now standing firmly erect is keeping the pantyhose bunched below it. I reach forward and draw the tight, glossy nylon up and over. It’s so tight that as I do so, it presses my cock against my stomach, binding it in a nylon prison.

The feeling of my flatmate’s cum-wet pantyhose against the underside of my penis is almost too much to take. I can feel every silken thread of fibre with my swollen tip, which has begun to drip with precum. Jess’ cooling pussy juices mean that wet nylon is now clinging to the underside of my shaft, mingling with the juices now flowing freely from my cock. It feels divine.

I pull the pantyhose up high, up past my waist, and I’m ready. For a moment I stand admiring the view. My legs are now glossy, shiny, black, and silky-soft. My cock is visible through the nylon, straining against the material. It’s firm, and long, perfectly framed through the sheer, tight fabric.

Softly, I walk to Jess’ bedroom door, savouring every new sensation her pantyhose elicits from my stimulated skin. I pause before knocking, taking a second to catch my breath, and to realise that I have no idea what will happen next. I remember how confident Jess was when she told me to dress in her pantyhose, how she specified this fifteen minute respite from our pleasure. She must have something planned. I decide to give myself over to her intention.

I knock on the door. A pause. Then…

“Are you wearing my pantyhose?” comes her reply. Her voice is soft, husky, but confident.

“Um, yes.” I say, nervously.

“Good. Then you can come in.”

My ever-trembling hands reach for the handle and I open the door. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight.

My eyes, coy, begin at her feet, şehitkamil escort which she has slipped into black, intensely glossy heels so high that she is almost on her tiptoes.

Her heels are black, intensely glossy, and almost inseparable from what she is wearing on her legs. As my eyes scan up I realise she is wearing black latex stockings, like liquid ink, painted onto her shapely, long legs. The latex catches the low light, a shimmering strip of which guides my eyes yet further up her body.

Halfway up Jess’ thigh the tops of her latex stockings grip her flesh, then abruptly stop, giving way to the silkiest, shiniest, tightest black nylon I have ever seen.

There are no seams in sight. It’s as if her thighs, pussy, hips and waist have been painted in black milk. Her ivory skin shines through the nylon. Her body is perfectly contoured by her exquisite pantyhose. Light shimmers across the nylon, catching the curves of her hips, and the tops of her thighs. My body throbs in response to the sight.

Her pantyhose caress every inch of her lower body, all the way up to the narrowest part of her waist, where a band of thicker, tighter nylon holds them in place. This is where the silky nylon stops, giving way to Jess’ porcelain skin.

Her small, milk-white breasts jut out defiantly, daring me to overlook them in the presence of her perfect pantyhose. I do not. My eyes linger on the soft curve of each breast. Her puffy, rose pink nipples are beginning to strain out into the night air. My mouth begins to water.

Suddenly I notice Jess’ arms are far from bare. From the tips of her fingers to her upper arm, she seems to be painted in glorious shiny black ink. Latex gloves. So incredibly tight against her skin. Her palms are gently pressed against her hips, her glossy latex-clad arms framing the ivory skin of her chest, while promising new, unexplored sensual experiences.

Halfway up her upper arm, the black latex suddenly yields to her soft white skin. Her perfect shoulders curve into her slender neck, which is bound in a simple black choker. Her shoulders are free of her blonde ringlets. Jess has tied her hair back into a sleek, severe ponytail, securing it with a black silk ribbon.

Our eyes lock for the first time. I swear I can hear the hum of electricity in the air.

She looks deep into my soul. Her eyes are piercing and purposeful. Everything about her expression, her body language, is oozing an erotic confidence that I’ve never seen from my friend before.

She flicks her eyes down, appraising me. I remember that I am wearing pantyhose too, and suddenly I feel more naked than I ever have. I’m not sure how to stand. I want how I look to have the same effect on Jess as she does on me. It’s an impossible task, surely.

As her eyes sweep over my legs, they come to rest on my cock, which is straining against the tight, wet nylon.

She speaks in a low, sultry voice, “You look hot. I never knew you would look so hot in my pantyhose. I had my suspicions of course, but I never truly knew…”

What does she mean? Has she thought about this before tonight? Before I can gather my thoughts, she flicks her eyes up and locks them with mine once more.

She takes a deep breath and says, “So… I guess this is all new for you honey? You must feel a little out of your depth. You’re wearing pantyhose, my pantyhose for the first time, and standing before me while I look like…” she gestures at her body with an audacious flick of her latex-clad hands.

“Beautiful?” I venture.

She lights up. Her smile bathes her features in radiance. “You think so?” she asks, bashful, before her smile settles to a wry purse of her cherry lips. I smile back, and for a moment I see my friend as she was to me, a fun, smart, funny woman. My peripheral vision reminds me sharply that she stands before me now encapsulated in nylon and latex, while her exposed breasts gently rise with each breath.

My pulse thunders in my ears. I’m nervous and excited, numb and over-stimulated all in the same moment. For a brief second I am concerned that this spells the end of a friendship I cherish deeply. But this thought is vanquished by the promise of sheer erotic pleasure that stands before me.

“I’m all yours,” I say, sensing it’s the right thing to say in this moment.

It is. Suddenly she places one heeled foot forward, and begins to stalk towards me. Her hips are swaying, accentuated by the way her tight pantyhose cinch her waist. Her breasts gently bounce with each step, her nipples erect. Her eyes are locked on to mine.

Seconds later she is stood so close to me that I can smell her. Sweet honey, mixed with the faint trace of sweat. She reaches forward and places both her hands on my hips, her latex fingers feel cool against my nylon covered skin.

Time slows to a standstill. I’m acutely aware of the gentle pressure from her hands, pressing nylon into my skin. And with this touch the energy changes. I feel it surge up from my core. As I look deeply in to Jess’ eyes, I see it in her too. Lust. Fetish. Unstoppable desire.

She pulls my hips forward, thrusting our bodies together. Her lips are parting mine, her hot wet tongue penetrating my mouth. I kiss back hungrily. The soft skin of her breasts presses against my chest. I can feel her nipples hardening as we lose ourselves to passion.

Then I feel it. The sensation of nylon against nylon. As our bodies surge against each other, our hips, our thighs, our genitals, are all causing the most wonderful silken friction against our skin. With each move there’s a gentle catch followed by a silken release as the fibres of our nylons cling and slide against each other. The tight, tight nylon sends shockwaves of erotic pleasure across our pantyhose-wrapped bodies.

“I never thought it would feel like this,” I say, breathlessly between kisses, not sure if I mean the physical sensation I am feeling, or the emotional, sexual connection I suddenly find myself having with Jess. I decide it’s both.

We kiss, we caress, we push our bodies against each other. My cock, still bound vertically against my body by Jess’ pantyhose is now freely flowing with precum, dampening the nylon against my skin. I can feel the heat from Jess’ pussy through the moistening fabric between us.

We separate momentarily. “Lie down,” Jess commands, and I do not protest. Urgency wins over comfort and I lower myself to the ground at Jess’ spectacularly heeled feet. I find myself attracted to her pretty arches, vaulting high in her heels. The straps round her gorgeous ankles…

Jess has other ideas. She is lowering herself down on top of me. Slowly, carefully she settles her weight on to me, straddling my upper thighs, her crotch is just below mine.

She brings her slick, shiny arms forwards and places her palms either side of my swollen cock, framing it with her latex fingers, pulling the fabric tight. The sensation of damp nylon, restricting my cock feels sumptuous. In response, my cock twitches and my hips begin to gently thrust.

Jess purses her mouth, and slowly licks the inside of her top lip. She is gazing at me with eyes full of lust. I feel exposed, and sexy.

She delicately places the tip of the fingers of her right hand at the base of my cock, then strokes upwards. The feeling of friction, latex on nylon, so close to my skin is divine. I feel my cock pulse in response, another droplet oozes from the tip.

For another minute or so Jess carefully strokes my cock through the pantyhose, her eyes drinking in the sight of me. I see her ivory cheeks begin to flush with rose. As she strokes, she begins to writhe subconsciously, her hips rocking back and forth. She bites her bottom lip. Her brow furrows.

Neither of us can take this suspense any more. In one smooth, decisive move, Jess places her hands either side of my body before drawing herself forwards. Her nylon-wrapped body moves lithely against mine.

Suddenly I feel it. Hot. Wet. Jess presses her pussy against my cock.

And I’m lost in the sensation. Two layers of the thinnest, finest nylon, wet with our bodies’ anticipation, separates our swollen genitals. I can feel the subtle space between her pursed pussy lips slide snugly against the engorged shaft of my cock.

My nerves are electrified. Every tiny movement creates a sheer friction between us. Pinpricks of pleasure are spread over our skin, like melted chocolate.

The delicacy and luxuriousness of the sensation is suddenly contrasted with urgent motion. Jess begins to grind her pussy against my cock. I can feel her willowy, strong legs pushing her hips into mine. Wet nylon against wet nylon. Her sex against my sex.

Finding our rhythm, we writhe together, lost in each other, feeling the slippery silkiness of our pantyhose, and each other. The blush on Jess’ cheeks soon spreads to her chest. Her breath quickens. Mine follows suit.

Her breasts tremble and bounce with every thrust, her nipples are swollen, pink, and pert. My body replies in kind, my cock becoming so engorged that it aches and strains against the tight nylon, and Jess’ body.

Faster and faster, harder and harder, we breathlessly surrender everything but the pure carnal pleasure of grinding ourselves against each other. The sensation is enhanced by a fetish which binds us tighter than the tight, silky, sheer material against our skin.

The thought races through my mind again that it’s Jess’ pantyhose I am wearing. Not an hour ago she wore these as she clamped my cock between her thighs and masturbated. Both of our cum is soaked into the fabric which now, along with Jess’ new pantyhose, is becoming increasingly saturated again with our juices.

And the way Jess dressed. Her heels, her latex gloves, the way she has tied her hair, all for my gratification it seemed… only the way she is now moving, caressing her thighs, her breast, her neck as she sits back, letting her weight force her nylon pussy against my nylon cock as she grinds, and writhes, and grinds. It is apparent that she finds an insistent erotic pleasure in this.

These thoughts coupled with the spellbinding sensation we and our pantyhose are creating begins to quicken my pulse. A familiar warmth begins to spread at the very base of my cock, into my thighs and lower stomach. I see the tip of my cock, purple, shiny and glistening through the sheer nylon. I see Jess’ pussy, painted smooth by the tight crotch of her pantyhose as she frantically glides it up and down my shaft, stroking her swollen, pink clitoris against me, hungrily.

Suddenly I feel her thighs tremble. Her movement becomes jerky, a staccato symphony of sex. She convulses, and lets out a moan, a grunt, then a scream. Her pussy surrenders a flood of her cum, drenching her pantyhose and mine.

My body eagerly joins hers. From the depth of my crotch, the base of my cock clenches hard, before a series of explosive pulses send streams of cum pouring from my cock. Sticky, milky ropes of hot liquid are sopped up by our nylon, slick with the flow of our orgasm.

Wave after wave of erotic pleasure encompasses our bodies, our minds blank as we desperately thrash and clench with intense pleasure. It feels like it lasts a lifetime.

What could be hours later we lay together on the floor. I am on my back, Jess is tucked tight against my side. A painted black leg is casually draped on top of mine, while a latex-clad arm adorns my chest, her fingers idly tracing circles around my nipple.

I feel the warmth of her body and her breath, contrasting with our wet pantyhose, which are cooling in the night air.

“Wow,” I say, artlessly. Jess looks like a post-orgasmic erotic masterpiece. Any words I think of feel clumsy in comparison.

“Mmm, I know,” she breathes, huskily into my neck.

Minutes pass.

“So, I guess we should…” I start, then stop, unsure of what to say.

“Yes. We should talk,” Jess offers calmly and confidently.

We unfold from our embrace and stand, our legs weak, trembling as we begin to peel cum-drenched nylon and latex off our skin.

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