What to do in a tight situation

When you dive into deviancy and leave the safe shores of married heterosexual shagging I suppose you should expect to wash up in some weird places (and run out of watery metaphors).

I mean the sexy dark places I like to write about. Over the past couple of years various women have offered to wrestle me, go naked hiking with me, brand me with hot irons, shave me, and cover me in chocolate, But although I was very curious and not a little titillated by some of these suggestions I only agreed to one. Guess which? Here’s a clue: yum, yum!

So I suppose I shouldn’t have been shocked by what happened the week after New Year’s Day. My occasional girl friend Ms Hastings was off skiing with her husband and I was moping around at various parties on my own. Ms Hastings is very relaxed about this, when she’s with hubbie I’m allowed to pursue temporary liaisons (nice word) if they are offered.

That’s the fascinating thing about gays. Unlike straight couples who mostly need to lap up a couple of dinners and a bit of culture before they lap up each other, we often find ourselves in each other’s pants just hours after we’ve first met.

Especially women as, I suppose, we sort of trust each other, the sex doesn’t have to be one-sided and penetrative and you won’t get pregnant.

So, to get to my shocking tale, I started talking to this woman at a lunch party. I’ve promised to keep her totally anonymous so no details of where or when. However I’ll call her Polly, after Pretty Polly (you see why soon). It was pretty dressy so I was in a skirt and fuck-me heels and so was she.

I’d met Polly a couple of times before at similar do’s, she wasn’t part of the Brighton muffia but she seemed to like to hang out with us and she was apparently very happily married with kids. Ah ha, you think the plot deepens!

Well, at least, our conversation did, we started by discussing Little Miss Sunshine, found we both liked Amy Winehouse a lot and so on and so forth. Then, after several glasses of cold white wine we got on to hotter personal matters, I talked about Ms Hastings and her frequent absences from my bed and she confessed that, nice as hubbie and kids were, there was a bit of excitement missing.

Ah, the signals – I’ve learnt them pretty fast and they definitely suggested that Sadie might be in for a little New Year nookie that afternoon.

Then it was time to go and she offered me a lift. We chatted aimlessly while I checked her body out as she drove, nice legs, full but sexy thighs, big bum, big tits and an attractive face with a rather dirty looking mouth. She turned to say something and caught me looking at her. We grinned at each other.

Then, just before we hit Brighton Polly hit on me. She pulled into a lay by and stopped the car.

“Look Sadie, you know I find you very sexy” she said nervously. Then she placed her hand on my knee and gently stroked it.

“My house is just over there…would you like to come back with me?”

Well that was direct. No excuse of a cup of tea or to see the new kitchen. Just, why not pop over for a fuck, I liked that.

And so then we were on the sofa in her smart living room kissing each other in the French manner. Mr Polly and the little ones were walking in the Lake District for a couple of days so the house was ours. She’d said she didn’t want to go into the bedroom because it would seem unfair to her husband and I understood that.

However, I wanted to move things along a bit so I stood up and looked down at her.

“Well” I said.

At this, she placed her hands on the back of my legs and then slowly moved them upwards. She pushed my skirt up and squeezed my thighs and then her fingers were massaging my bum.

This was nice but I was a bit puzzled by her next comment.

“Sadie, I find you so sexy like this, but, look I don’t want to put you off, but there’s something, I errrrr, there’s something I like doing”

Oh oh I thought, flagellation, fisting, dressing up as Cheri Blair – you just don’t know these days.

“Look, Polly, anything goes babe” I said in a hopefully cool way.

Her hands gripped my thighs and pulled me towards her. She rested her face against my disarranged skirt and looked up at me.

“It’s just that I’m really turned on by you in…these tights”

Ahh, I hadn’t met one of these before but I’d read about them on the mucky sites I watch at 3am in the morning. She was into my tights. They were nothing special - ‘Close Encounters’ from M&S, but actually the name was rather appropriate. She was a pantyhose fan, yea, this rather twee American word for tights was all over the internet. Pantyhose Fun, Lesbians in Pantyhose, Men in Pantyhose, Pets in pantyhose (fuck, saying it four times means I’m going to get so many mentions on Google now)

I said nothing but just stroked her hair so she took this as a ‘go ahead’. She unzipped my skirt and slipped it down. I was now just in my blouse, tights with a white thong underneath and my fuck-me’s.

She buried her face into my belly and then, after a moment, looked appealingly up at me.

“Oh Sadie” she said. “Can I do…anything”

I nodded and her face was now in my crotch. Not just resting on it but actively burrowing into my mound. Her hands were on my arse pulling me even tighter against her exploring nose. I imagined she was getting a subtle whiff of sexy sadieness.

Then she stood up, I stood watching her wondering what was going to happen next. She slipped her skirt down and I saw she was not wearing knickers under her tights. Polly’s trimmed pubes faced me defiantly.

She took my arm and led my around the sofa. Then, by pressing her hand on her back she indicated that I was to bend over the back. Once in position with my arse in the air, I suddenly felt her hands all over my cheeks, patting, smoothing and squeezing the thin shiny material that covered them. Wow, she loved lycra!

Then her face was in my crack. She was actually rubbing her cheek against mine and even kissing it.

For minutes, she brushed my bum with her face. I could hear her breathing growing more intense and then she was up my arse in the nicest possible way.

If someone had come in they would probably have assumed from my position and her attention that we were just two members of the Advertising profession but it felt strange to me.

It was an odd sensation owing to the material tights are made of. There is some feeling of covering but otherwise you seem naked. But then I felt her tongue pushing against the springy fabric and a slight damp feeling. As I said, weird.

Equally odd was me, later, with my legs in the air while she grazed on my gusset. She was almost ignoring me as a person by now. She was manoeuvring me into position and then tasting my tights. It felt that her tongue was trying to force its way through to my cunt. Then she was biting me gently, her teeth nibbling away and pulling on my thong. And then she was pressing her mouth and nose into me and I suddenly began to like it. My tights and thong were damp – and so was I.

She sat up on her knees panting gently. I decided it was time I got involved so I sat up, opened her shirt and slipped it off. She was wearing a classy looking bra which she opened at the front and her big tits fell out.

“Now you’ she said and in seconds my nipples were perking up in the cool air. But she hadn’t finished down below and she lifted my legs and pushed me back so she could have unrestricted access.

For minutes she tantalised me thought the thin material. I was getting those feelings and so was she. With my head on the carpet I could see her gusset and her hand was in there and her fingers were working hard.

Finally she must have cum or something because she stopped and sat back looking at me blissfully. I let my legs fall back and we both relaxed.

“Fancy a snack darling before we…carry on?” she said. Well, I thought, you’ve already had yours.

We both got up. My tights were soaked through but I left them on. They obviously excited Polly and I wanted her totally turned on.

Polly came back, set a small table, lit a candle then, put two interesting looking salads out with a bottle of wine. We ate, an odd sight I expect, two 30 year olds topless in tights. Now that would make a great website name!

After we’d finished the meal Polly started on me again. This time I knew what to expect and I allowed myself to be used like a lycra covered sexual organ. She sucked me, stretched me, and tried to split me open.

Then, being a Brit she practiced fair play and I found my face in her silky snatch. Later I tried her arse for size but I found the whole experience a bit frustrating. The material was a barrier to my pleasure not a boost.

But she was so excited. So I took her in my arms, our tights finally came off and we finished ourselves off with a good old - fashioned fuck.

Later, as I got dressed she told me about her fetish. How she chatted to groups across the world, how she’s met up in a hotel outside Birmingham with fellow tight-sniffers. Pantyhose Orgy, I said, (wow, google will now go mad!)

We kissed, said we must do this again, and I went outside to the comparatively sane world of a cab driver’s banter all the way to Brighton.

At the beginning of this I said I was shocked but it wasn’t the gusset snuffling. I’ve seen and expect I’ll experience even odder things than that. No what amazed me was that this respectable, pillar of the community, on the school board, happily married mother of two, harboured such extraordinary sexual longings.

It was sheer madness.

Love & kisses Sadie xxxx