From the way he told me on the phone that he liked stockings and high heels, it was clear to me that I wasn’t the only one who should wear them. It would certainly turn him on to feel his fetish in his own body.
I would only mention it very discreetly in the preliminary talk, because it should be a surprise. I suspected that he had never worn stockings himself. I knew it was risky and could backfire, but I couldn’t resist the temptation. But I already had to work out the general direction beforehand. And that’s what I did. You want to know how? Of course, we won’t reveal that here …
The doorbell rang and I received him in a black evening dress and stockings. He stared spellbound at my legs and could barely get a word out.
“What you’ll only see when you’re wearing them yourself!” This thought flashed through my mind as I firmly invited him in.
At the bar, I checked out his preferences again and started a game that he would never forget. Without realizing it, he was already in my clutches.
After the preliminary talk, I sent him to the bathroom and began my preparations for the session. I chose a pair of beautiful stockings, the matching suspender belt of course, and shoes in size 45 for him.
When he entered the room, I immediately blindfolded him. His pulse raced …
I gently stroked his legs and his privates with my nylons and his libido began to boil.
Then I removed the blindfold and allowed him to feast his eyes on my face.
The astonishment on his face was hard to miss.
Wonderful, that look on his face. More horror than pleasure. What might have been going through his head? Was this a conflict between his lust on the one hand and his conservative attitude on the other?
With a little pat on the bottom, I directed him towards the checkroom. I grabbed the suspender belt and dressed him. He tried to defend himself and whimpered: “They can’t do that!” But to my ears it sounded more like: “Yes, please do that!”. And that’s what happened.
He looked chic. Naturally, the mirror was in a favorable position so that he could immediately admire himself in his new attire.
His manhood was bulging out of the pretty lingerie. Of course, that didn’t really fit the picture. But with a longer ribbon and the right technique, his good piece could be tied back wonderfully.
He stood there a little helpless. I stroked his stockings and rubbed my legs against his. He relaxed more and more and dared to touch my legs. I graciously let him have his way.
“Kneel down and massage my feet,” I ordered him. He immediately followed this instruction. He kissed my feet without being asked. He did a wonderful job, but of course I still had to reprimand him for it and tugged him up by his ear. I dragged him to the buck and let him lean over it.
Then one, two, three lashes came across his bottom. The redness (on his butt and face) was hard to miss!
He twitched. I stated: “Contenance my little nylon slut!”
