One of the first gifts from Naiia I ever received.
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:
He watches.
I extend my leg, pushing out with the toe, offering it to him. The tip of my foot pauses, hanging in the air.
He waits.
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.
He stands.
The band snaps tight inches from the wet curls of my cunt. I shiver.
Breathe.
He comes.
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So well done, I love the anticipation, the knowing or the expectation