I’m not a huge stocking fetishist, though I am known to enjoy the sight of them. For me, it’s not so much the items themselves – pretty as they are – as the knowledge that they were put on for me to enjoy. When Alison Tyler put up her writing prompt today, I decided to brush off my dusty erotica writing skills and take up the challenge:
I extend my leg, pushing out with the toe, offering it to him. The tip of my foot pauses, hanging in the air.
I try to hold it, an amusing measure of defiance. We know I will bend. My hair tickles my naked thigh as I fit the tiny O of fabric over the foot. Toes, sole, bump of ankle, curve of calf – the layered folds unfurl, forming the shape implied but impossible to achieve without penetration.
The band snaps tight inches from the wet curls of my cunt. I shiver.