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  Miss Winters moaned out loudly and I felt a distant stab of fear that someone would burst in and catch us in this peculiar tryst. But I didn’t care and felt as if no force in the world could keep me from this new sensation.

  As my tongue reached the end of its sensual journey, I dropped the foot down and glanced upwards, making eye contact with my seductive boss. Then I slowly wrapped my lips around her toes, taking them as far into my mouth as I dared, flicking the twitching digits with my tongue. Miss Winters’ eyes widened as she gazed down at me and she moved one of her hands up to touch her breast, beginning to knead it roughly. “Oh Monique, you’re very talented,” she purred and my heart began to hammer in my chest.

  I closed my eyes and focused my attention on the toes in my mouth, licking and sucking at them, relishing every strange sensation - the warmth of her foot; the soft gauze of her pantyhose, becoming increasingly wet with my saliva; the smell and taste of her, an intoxicating cocktail of femininity. And all the while, a looming feeling deep inside of me, rippling out from my pussy with pulsing waves of pleasure. It was perplexing how thrilling all this was, and I released myself into the feelings, embracing them and following these strange desires to wherever they led me.

  Above me, Miss Winters was breathing heavily, her short, sharp pants melding together with her low moans to create a constant cacophony of enjoyment. I felt her shift slightly and her free foot moved up to my face. She began to paw at me with her toes, stroking my cheek and nose and hair. Then she shuffled her body and began to pull her skirt up her thighs to gather it at her waist. I glanced up from her foot, gazing along the endless length of her legs to her crotch.

  As I watched, she pulled her left foot away from my face and swung it around to rest it on the desk, spreading her legs wide open. I gave a sharp inhale of breath as her pussy was revealed to me, locked beneath the sheer material of her pantyhose. She was wearing no underwear and the complex folds of her labia were smeared under the thin nylon and frozen in place, a perplexing tableau that demanded exploration.

  I paused, her toes still in my mouth, and studied that forbidden geography, suddenly overcome with an unfamiliar urge that I couldn’t place or explain. It was no longer enough to pleasure her feet, I wanted more and I would stop at nothing to get it.

  Suddenly, as if reading my mind, Miss Winters reached down to her pussy and began to lightly stroke her fingertips across her lips. “Oh my, I’m so wet. You’re very good at your job Monique!” she said with a girlish glee that was perplexingly enticing. “Would you like to see for yourself?” she purred.

  I gasped and let her toes fall from my mouth, allowing me to speak. “Y-yes Miss Winter, yes I would,” I replied, my previous trepidation replaced with an intense longing that caused my heart to race.

  Miss Winter smiled and breathed deeply, then she dug her fingernails into the flimsy pantyhose material that imprisoned her sex. Without warning, she ripped outwards, pulling apart the thin nylon until she’d opened up a wide hole around her pussy. I gasped at the action, excited by the animal intensity of intent but lamenting the destruction of such a compelling scene.

  “Eat my pussy Monique,” said Miss Winters, leaning back on her hands and pushing her hips forward to the edge of the desk.

  “Yes Miss,” I replied, desperate to please this older woman.

  I turned my attention back to her foot and gave her toes one final, lengthy suck, then began to kiss my way down her sole, her heel and up her ankle and calf. Every touch was electricity, every taste a sensual feast. I reached her knee and licked the back of the joint, exploring that soft region with my tongue, then began to work my way up the soft expanse of her inner thighs. With every light brush of my mouth, I sensed her pussy growing nearer, my ultimate destination. I could smell it, the erotic perfume of her desire, rich and musky and unfathomably arousing. I picked up the pace, kissing and licking her, until I reached the tear in the pantyhose and, for the first time, kissed her bare flesh.

  My mind exploded. She was warm and soft, slightly salty with the sweat of arousal. I covered the final inches in seconds, unable to contain my lust any longer. Then I plunged my tongue into her waiting lips, not a hint of nervous hesitation in my mind. This was my goal now, my calling and my destiny. I wanted nothing more than to taste the sex of this beautiful, dominant woman who had transfixed me with her alluring call. I wanted to submit to her, to please her, to taste her and to be used by her. I was hers! Hers!

  My tongue entered the wrinkled chasm of her labia and I drew it upwards, slowly traversing the space between her hole and her clitoris. I had never done this before, had never even thought about it, yet somehow I knew what to do. I was driven by my own womanly knowledge, and the peculiar sense of arousal, I knew instinctively where and how to touch her.

  In seconds, my senses caught up with my actions in the swirling maelstrom of my mind and I registered the taste of her sex for the first time. It was endlessly pleasant, vital and strange, the essence of woman. I repeated the motion, greedy for more and unable to control myself. I was no longer driven by rational thought, no longer making conscious actions. Instead, these novel urges and strange desires were pushing me forward, compelling me to satisfy my needs without any other consideration.

  I reached down and hooked my arms under her legs, then pulled her knees up around my head until her feet rested on my back. She responded by tightening her thighs around my head, locking me in place, my mouth on her pussy. I felt her thighs on my cheeks, a pleasant friction of soft nylon on burning skin, and my pussy roared its approval.

  Pushed forward by my own pleasure, I focused my attention on her swollen clit, gasping in surprise as I surveyed the size of that throbbing nub. I pushed down on it, squashing it against her pelvic bone and swirling around it in tight circles. Miss Winters cried out, a muted scream that revealed her enjoyment. Then she dropped her hand down on my head and gripped my hair, pulling me forward, deeper into her. I didn’t try to resist, happy to allow myself to be guided by her, to be possessed by her.

  I worked faster, lapping and sucking her clit and lips in a mirror of how I had taken her toes in my mouth minutes earlier. I felt my boss begin to breathe quicker, panting and moaning with no sense of self-consciousness. Neither of us cared about being caught now, our respective universes had collapsed down to the single focal point of her pussy and my tongue as they danced together.

  I coiled my arms tighter around her thighs, and pulled her towards me, relishing the way her body writhed under my touch. “Ah, ah, ah!” she cried out and slammed her palm down on the desk with a loud crack.

  I realized that she was close and quickened my pace, eager to allow her the release of orgasm, desperate to share that intense pleasure. She began to move her body, grinding her hips forward onto my face, using my chin, my mouth, my tongue and nose for her own pleasure. I relaxed, allowed myself to be used by her. I was a ragdoll, a puppet completely under her control.

  Her hips began to moved faster and I struggled to breathe, yet could not remove myself from the claustrophobic prison of her pussy.

  And then, suddenly, her body tensed. I glanced upwards from her crotch and found her head pushed backwards, mouth wide open. The muscles on her neck were strained and visible, pushing at the soft skin of her neck with the intense forces that raged within her. Her thighs squeezed together on my head with an intolerable pressure that was also unfathomably pleasant. “Oh god!” she cried, that single exclamation betraying a world of pleasure within her. Then the tension left her. She collapsed back onto the desk and her legs went limp, sprawling across my back. Thin beads of sweat erupted from her skin and glistened in the warm light of late afternoon.

  I sat back on my heels and laid my hands on my thighs, unable to take my eyes of the smouldering ruin of Miss Winters’ body as it lay before me. My mind raced with unfamiliar thoughts and desires, and I wondered what I had awakened inside me.

  In time, she stirred and sat up on her elbows. She peered down at
me, still kneeling at her feet, and smiled warmly.

  “Thank you Monique. I think that’s enough for this meeting. You may go,” she said.

  I blinked, surprised at the casual dismissal. The burning fire in my pussy still raged out of control and I had hoped that I might find release. But it was not to be. My heart sank and I stood to leave, straightening my tight skirt and blouse.

  As I approached the door, Miss Winters spoke again. “I think I’m going to change your role at Blake and Chesterton Monique,” she began. “I’d like to promote you to the position of my personal assistant. How does that sound?” she purred, knowing full well how it sounded.

  “I’d like that, Miss Winters,” I replied, trying to contain my excitement.

  “It will be a lot of hard work, I’m a very demanding boss,” she drawled, “do you think you are up to it?” As she spoke, she began to massage her breasts with her hands.

  “Y-yes Miss Winters,” I replied, unable say anything else.

  “Very good. Then I think I’m going to need you to come into work on Saturday, if you don’t mind. I have some, um, filing that I need help with. Would that be okay?”

  “Yes, Miss Winters. Saturday would be fine. Will there be anything else?” I asked.

  “Yes. I’d like you to wear pantyhose,” she remarked offhandedly.

  “Of course, Miss Winters,” I replied.

  “I don’t think you understand Monique. I’d like you to wear only pantyhose,” she said with a mischievous smirk.

  Oh boy...

  Chapter 3

  After an endless week, Saturday finally rolled around and I woke up early to head to the office as instructed. I thought, under the circumstances, it would probably be better to take a taxi downtown than public transport.

  It’s not that I was particularly indecent looking, at least not from the outside. It’s just I felt extremely self conscious, and couldn’t bear all those judging eyes on me as I took the long ride into the city. As it was, I only had to put up with the imagined lecherous looks from the taxi driver as I climb in and out of the cab.

  Strictly speaking, I hadn’t followed Miss Winters’ instructions to the letter. Oh, I’d picked out a pair of sheer black pantyhose and pulled them over my legs, sans panties of course. But I was also wearing a coat and shoes. I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to do it? Did she expect me to come to work topless and shoeless? I was borderline besotted with this intense woman, to be sure, but I wasn’t crazy.

  So I’d selected a cute, cream trench coat, that was short enough to show enough of my legs to be in keeping with the spirit of the request. I completed my outfit with a pair of shiny, black high heeled pumps that were the sexiest shoes I owned. I figured that if I was going to break Miss Winters’ rules, then I’d at least give her a thrill doing so!

  When I arrived at the office, I paid the taxi driver and headed into the deserted building. I hurried through the lobby, flashing a nervous smile at Gus, the on-duty security guard. He glanced at me, barely noticing as I breezed through the security gate, clutching the skimpy coat closed around my body, intensely aware of my nakedness beneath.

  I took the elevator up to the fifth floor, and took a moment to compose myself. Was this really happening? Was I really following the weird sexual commands of my insatiable lesbian boss? Was I a lesbian now? Did it even matter? All that I’d been able to think about since the review meeting was Miss Winters’ long legs and her soft pantyhose, the taste of her toes and the taste of her pussy. It would be fair to say that I was not the most productive worker bee that week!

  With my heart hammering, I stepped out into the open plan office where I worked. It was completely deserted and oppressively quiet. The usual hum of office life was replaced by the ever-present drone of the air conditioning and the only activity was from the eternal loops of the inane screensavers on the sleeping monitors. I felt a shudder of discomfort, suddenly questioning why I was in this place at all. It wasn’t too late to turn back, I thought, tempted to turn around and head back home. Did I really want the job this much?

  But deep down, I realized that it wasn’t the job I wanted. Instead, I wanted - needed - to explore the strange urges that had been awakened within me. With a deep sigh, I stepped across the office, passed my desk and over to the large conference room in the far corner.

  The glass door to the room was shut and the blinds closed, preventing me from seeing inside. So, with trembling hands, I knocked three times, then pushed my way in, not waiting for a reply.

  “Ah, Monique, I’m so glad you decided to join us.”

  Us?

  I entered the room and let the door fall shut behind me, then blinked and gasped as I surveyed the room.

  The large room was dominated by an oval conference table with multiple chairs positioned neatly around it. I knew the room well, it was where we had our weekly team meeting. At one end of the room, pushed into the corner, was an L-shaped sofa. It was imposing and grey, with corporate purple cushions. Sitting on the sofa was Miss Winters’. My boss was wearing a lilac skirt suit, with cream trim, and nude heels with a dainty strap around her ankle. I couldn’t tell from where I stood, but I assumed she was also wearing pantyhose. I thought I could see the gentle shimmer of light on her legs that were crossed before her, her hands wrapped around her knees.

  But what surprised me the most, what caused me to gasp and raise a hand to my chest in shock, was on the floor in front of Miss Winters’ feet.

  “I believe you’ve already met Samantha?” purred Miss Winters’ with a filthy smirk.

  “I… yes…” I managed to stutter.

  Kneeling before Miss Winters, with her back towards me, was Samantha. The girl who had been promoted, the girl who I had replaced in Miss Winters’ team. Samantha was a pretty blonde, around the same age as me. She had short, wavy, blonde hair, cut into a cut bob, and a pleasant and attractive face with deep blue eyes. Today, Samantha was mostly naked, predictably wearing only a pair of pale pantyhose that were a shade lighter than her tanned skin. She was kneeling back on her heels, with her arms crossed behind her back in a pose that screamed of submissiveness.

  As I struggled to find something to say, Samantha turned her head to look at me. I gasped once more as I saw her face for the first time. Stuffed into her mouth was a wadded ball of black material. I knew, without needing to be told, that the material was a pair of Miss Winters’ pantyhose. And, furthermore, I knew instinctively that, somewhere in the room, there would be a pair for me too.

  A wave of revulsion washed over me, a sudden need to flee and leave the place immediately. But something held me in place, a richer feeling that took the place of the visceral reaction that preceded it. Curiosity.

  “Eyes forward please Samantha,” said Miss Winters from the couch and the other girl snapped her head around to face our boss. As she did, I studied her naked body - the flat of her stomach, her skin perfect and unblemished; the gentle rise of her modest breasts, tiny brown nipples taut and hard; and the soles of her feet, crossed behind her, the complex wrinkles of her arch maddeningly compelling. “Take off your coat and shoes please Monique and join Samantha on the floor. Quickly now!” she said.

  I stepped over to the conference table and began to untie the band that held my flimsy coat in place. Then I shrugged it down over my shoulders and placed it over one of the chairs. I shuddered involuntarily, sensing the weight of Miss Winters’ stare on my back, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

  “Turn around Monique, let me see you,” she commanded and I reluctantly turned away from the table to face her. “Lovely,” whispered Miss Winters as she studied my naked breasts. “Now take off your shoes and kneel, please.”

  I lifted my foot and reached down, slipping the heel over my toes and placing it on the floor. I noticed a pair of strappy, black sandals beside the table, neatly placed together in a way that seemed intolerably erotic. Samantha’s, presumably, placed there at the behest of Miss Winters. I felt my heart racing, exc
itement and trepidation combined into a compelling buzz that caused my entire body to shudder. I slipped off the other shoe and placed it with the first. Then I stepped back across the room and lowered myself to the floor beside the other girl.

  Once in the kneeling position, I glanced around and copied Samantha’s pose. Reaching behind myself, I crossed my arms and then straightened my back, pushed my breasts forward and looked up at Miss Winters, awaiting her next words. I could feel the presence of Samantha to my right, the warmth of her skin, the occasional soft touch as our upper arms brushed together. I wondered what part she had in all of this and how I fitted into it. I also felt a small stab of jealousy, as it seemed as though I would be forced to share Miss Winters’ affections.

  After several minutes of silence, Miss Winters reached behind herself and plucked something from the sofa. She turned to face me and held her hand up, revealing a pair of tan pantyhose, deflated and pathetic looking without the shape of a female leg to give them life.

  Miss Winters’ face screwed up with a look of mock regret. “I’ve been wearing these for the last few days Monique, I’ve been saving them just for you,” she said. “Now, open wide,” she commanded, and leaned forwards.

  I considered refusing, backing away from her and her filthy hose. But I didn’t. Instead, I opened my mouth like a good little girl and allowed her to do what she wanted. After all, I was already naked and kneeling, a willing plaything of a perverted lesbian mistress. What possible difference would a pair of dirty pantyhose in my mouth make at this stage?