Denise placed the personal ad because she was bored, mostly.
Three months of living on her own in Benton Harbor, Michigan had
not been a terrific boon to her sanity. It was crappy little town off
the interstate with fast food chains and a couple of bars, but when you
looked closer to find all the tremendous depth that always lurks in
Smalltown, America (at least, so she’d always been told) you found…
nothing. The people here weren’t even all that different in an
interesting sort of way. They were just like the people in every other
place she had ever lived, except less social.
Denise couldn’t wait until this internship was over and she could
leave this hellhole. Until then, though, she was making a last-ditch
effort to find a friend to do something– anything!– with.
The voice-personal number she’d found advertised in the local rag
looked geared towards people seeking to hook up, but there was a caption
which said “Meet New Friends”, so it obviously wasn’t completely
romance-oriented. When she called, though, the “Romance” and “Friends”
categories weren’t explicitly split out. She wasn’t interested in any
of the men around here, even as friends, so she ended up perusing the
ads in the Women Seeking Women category. To her dismay, most of the ads
turned out to be lesbian or “bi-curious” women out to meet and have sex
with other women, which wasn’t what Denise wanted at all; she was
comfortably heterosexual, thankyouverymuch.
There were, however, a few ads from women looking for friendship
only, so she didn’t feel too uncomfortable leaving a similar ad:
“Hi, this is Denise in Benton Harbor, and I’m not a lesbian or a
bisexual or any of those things; I’m just looking for a friend to go out
with and find something to do in this godforsaken town! Can someone
please help me out here? Contact me at mailbox 3227. Bye!”
A week later she called the ad service back, realizing how negative
her ad sounded and planning on changing it, and was pleasantly surprised
to be informed she had a message in her box! She, of course, had to
pony up her credit card number to listen to it, but it was a small price
to pay for a potential cure for her ennui…
The respondent’s name was Kathleen, and she sounded very nice;
Kathleen left her phone number and asked Denise to call her any night
after six. Excited at this prospect, Denise called her that same
evening, and after exchanging some pleasantries, the women decided to
meet that night at a local dive called The Harlequin Romans. Denise
wasn’t sure what the two were going to do together, but Kathleen told
her not to worry– she had a couple of ideas! Denise was to look for a
woman with medium-length dark hair and a green dress.
Denise showered and hopped into a jean skirt and a nice blouse,
adjusted her makeup a bit, and hopped in the car for the ten-minute
drive to ‘Harlequin’. The place was pretty deserted, she saw while
parking her car, so she figured she and Kathleen wouldn’t be staying
there very long.
The hostess let her in the door, and she looked around the small,
poorly-lit bar. Two other patrons were in the place– one, an older guy
wearing a golf hat, was watching the Chicago Bulls lose to the Detroit
Pistons; the other, a greasy-looking fellow in shirt with some
auto-mechanic insignia on it, was in a corner booth with three glasses
of some clear alcoholic beverage. Either Kathleen wasn’t here yet, or
she wasn’t coming.
Denise sat down in a table in the middle of the establishment, and
ordered an apple martini from the waitress; she stared off into nowhere,
bored silly. A couple of minutes later, a woman in a green dress
stepped out of the restroom, and Denise smiled thankfully when the woman
spotted her and extended her hand, smiling.
“Denise?” she asked. Kathleen’s dress was very smart, looking like
she had ordered it from the back of a designer catalog. It was short,
silken, jade-colored, and had a provocative slit slightly off center,
revealing no small amount of leg when she walked. There was something
odd about her hose, but Denise couldn’t place it. “I’m Kathleen! It’s
nice to meet you!”
“Hi, Kathleen! Thanks for coming. I was worried about whether
you’d abandoned me or something.” She grinned.
The other woman grinned back. She had a charming smile, and
alluring green eyes that matched her dress; her dark brown hair was cut
in a businesslike style, and she definitely looked like she had too much
culture for this town… Unfortunately, Denise didn’t feel dressed
quite up to the same snuff; she even felt a little dumpy by comparison.
When she mentioned this, Kathleen reassured her that she enjoyed
dressing up, wherever she went, and that anyplace they went tonight
would not require anything more formal than what Denise was wearing, or
even less. But first, Kathleen insisted, let’s have a couple of drinks
up at the bar!
Denise agreed to this, although she kind of wanted to get wherever
they were going that was not here, in all honesty. But Kathleen led the
way to a corner of the bar out of view of the rest of the place, and sat
down on a stool, gesturing Denise towards another. Kathleen crossed her
right leg over her left, her nylons making a swishing sound as she did
so. Again, Denise thought there was something odd about her hosiery,
but she couldn’t place it.
Kathleen ordered their drinks– another martini for Denise, and a
gin-and-tonic for herself. She started asking questions about Denise’s
life, and what she was doing in Benton Harbor, but for some reason
Denise couldn’t concentrate very well. Her gaze kept being drawn to
Kathleen’s legs, and she tried not to stare as she attempted to figure
out what was so odd. Kathleen’s legs were nice, Denise thought, and the
black hose complemented them well. Now and then, Kathleen would uncross
her legs and then re-cross them, switching which leg was on top, and
making that interesting swishing sound as they ran over each other. It
was during one of these crossings that Denise finally discovered what
was bothering her about Kathleen’s legs: she wasn’t wearing pantyhose at
all, but those stay-up thingys that they had in the Victoria’s Secret
catalog. Actually, they looked to be the kind of hose that were held up
by those strappy-things instead of by their own tight bands.
The mystery solved, Denise could concentrate on what Kathleen was
saying and asking. What did Denise do for a living, did she have family
around here, did she have a boyfriend? Denise answered as best she
could, but she was still distracted for some reason every time Kathleen
would
cross left over (swish) right
revealing the darker black tops of the hose, and sometimes even one of
those straps that held it up. Denise started feeling embarrassed, as
Kathleen pivoted her stool to face Denise directly. Had she noticed
Denise staring at her legs instead of paying attention to the
conversation, and was she trying to more rigorously engage Denise so she
would pay better attention? Denise met her eyes directly, and answered
that she was a student intern at a local radio station, that her family
was in Indiana, and that she didn’t currently have a boyfriend.
Kathleen smiled broadly and
crossed right over (swish) left
showing off more dark nylon top; Denise almost thought she could see
above the top of the nylon, where bare leg lurked. She looked away
quickly, as Kathleen was starting to detail their plans for the night,
and Denise figured this nice chick was going to think she was a weirdo
for staring at her legs the whole time.
Kathleen was quietly saying something about going to someplace
called Deeper, which Denise had never
cross left over (swish) right
heard of, but which must be a lounge or other club, as Kathleen insisted
that Denise would be quite relaxed.
cross right over (swish) left
There was more about going to Deeper, but Denise was having a hard time
listening to what Kathleen was saying. She was now staring quite
unabashedly at Kathleen’s
left crossed over (swish) right
legs, as Kathleen talked about how nice and soothing it was at Deeper.
Actually, that wasn’t exactly what Kathleen had said, but Denise was too
distracted by
right crossed over (swish) left
the black nylon hose and their straps and the delightful swishing sound
they made when they passed over one another to bother with proper
grammar. This Deeper place sounded like a great place, and Denise
couldn’t quite figure out why Kathleen was describing it over and over
left crossed over (swish) right
and telling Denise she should go there, but yet never actually
suggesting that they leave where they were sitting. Denise was sure
there was a good reason, but her thinking was getting kind of muzzy at
this point; she must have had more to drink than she
cross right over (swish) left
thought. Kathleen was crossing and uncrossing her legs once per minute
now, and Denise’s eyes were glued to them as they scissored
left crossed over (swish) right
then
right crossed over (swish) left
revealing the full dark portions of the hose, and a bit of bare thigh at
the top more often than not. And Kathleen’s discussion gave Denise an
increasing desire to go Deeper. Or to Deeper. Or something. God, her
head was fuzzy. Still staring at Kathleen’s nylons
left crossed over (swish) right
she apologized to Kathleen, saying that she felt very drunk and that she
probably wasn’t very good company. Nonsense, insisted Kathleen, smiling
broadly,
crossing right over (swish) left
Denise was just enjoying herself and should relax as she went Deeper.
In fact, Kathleen was going to take her Deeper right now, and Denise
should follow her to her car.
Denise was glad they were finally leaving the bar, and she followed
Kathleen out into the night, noticing for the first time that Kathleen’s
nylons had a stripe up the back of each one, leading up into the
darkness of her skirt. She hadn’t been able to see that while they were
sitting down, since she had been facing Kathleen’s front. Eyes glued to
Kathleen’s stride, Denise walked out of the bar and across the parking
lot to a black sedan. Kathleen opened Denise’s door for her, and belted
her in, then went around to the driver’s side and entered the car
herself. Denise smiled happily as Kathleen’s dress hiked up a bit while
she sat down and put the car in drive. The dress’s slit was on the
passenger side, and Denise could now see an expansive amount of
Kathleen’s long legs, with the dark part of the hose accenting the pale
upper thigh it lay next to. The straps were dark green, she could now
see, and not black as she had thought back in the yellow-lit bar.
“Where are you taking me?” Denise asked.
“Deeper. Just lie back, relax, and close your eyes, and I’ll do
the rest.”
That sounded like a great suggestion, and Denise’s eyelids dropped
shut as the other woman hit the accelerator. Her last view before she
closed her eyes was of black-clad supple thigh as Kathleen’s muscles
worked the car’s pedals.
The drive was pleasant, and Kathleen talked to her throughout.
Denise couldn’t quite follow what her new friend was saying, but she
found herself responding when prompted to answer a question. She wasn’t
sure what she was saying, but she must not have sounded that stupid
because Kathleen was satisfied with the answers and started talking even
more. She was using words Denise had heard before, but had never used
herself, but that was okay because what she was describing was very
important to her and Denise absorbed it all and filed it away for future
use. An uncertain amount of time later, the car stopped, and Kathleen
snapped her fingers in front of Denise’s face, telling her she could
wake up. Denise came fully awake, at this, and realized how rude she
had been.
“I’m so sorry,” Denise said. “I go on and on about how boring
Benton Harbor is, and then I go and fall asleep on you the first time we
ever do anything together! You must think I’m nuts!”
“Not at all. We’re often a lot tireder than we think we are. Why
don’t you come inside my house and have a drink before we go?”
“Uh… sure.” Denise was more than a little confused, as she had
thought they were already going to their destination, not stopping off
at Kathleen’s house on the way. But she didn’t want to offend her new
friend, so she climbed out of the car and followed the other woman
inside. Kathleen’s legs sure looked nice as she walked, Denise thought,
then dragged her gaze away and watched the other woman open her front
door.
The house was in an elegant style Denise had not encountered in
Benton Harbor, and she made some complimentary noises about the way it
was decorated. Kathleen thanked her, and led her to a very comfortable
sofa, gesturing that she should sit down.
Denise sat down, and found herself watching the other woman’s legs
as she walked across the room to a large chair opposite the sofa.
Kathleen sat down and
crossed left over (swish) right
looked back at her with a grin. “Denise,” she said, “Are you feeling
okay?”
Denise almost didn’t answer, as she was captivated by the dark band
of material revealed at the top of Kathleen’s hose as she
crossed right over (swish) left
“Um, I’m sorry!” she answered, embarrassed. “What was that?”
“Are you all right?”
“I… must have had more to drink than I thought. I’m usually not
this easily–”
left crosses over (swish) right
“um… distracted.
“It’s my stockings, isn’t it.” Denise hurried to shake her head,
but Kathleen waved it off. “No, it’s okay, you’ve been staring at my
legs all evening. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, I assure
you.”
right crosses over (swish) left
“They have that effect on people because I want them to have that effect
on people. Have you ever worn stockings?”
Denise shook her head “no”.
“I suggest you try it sometime. They are one of life’s finer
luxuries. You wear pantyhose, I presume.”
left crosses over (swish) right
“Yes,” she replied quietly.
“Yes, well, pantyhose are nothing compared to the feel of fine
silky stockings on your legs. It’s quite exciting, almost erotic, in
fact–”
right crosses over (swish) left
“… to feel them moving up and down your legs, strumming them, almost,
while you walk. And they make the most pleasant swishing sound when you
cross and uncross your legs. Have you noticed?”
Denise just nodded and stared at the other woman’s long legs as she
continued to talk about her hosiery.
“Plus, the welt– that’s the dark band near the top that you attach
the garter belt to– teases so indecently when you wear a short skirt,
or a skirt with a slit up the side. Or with both, as mine has.”
Kathleen grinned mischievously as she pulled at the slit in her skirt to
demonstrate. The welt was fully visible, as was one pale thigh,
punctuated by the attachment to a ribboned garter-belt (so that’s what
the strappy-things are called, Denise thought distantly). The garter
strap went up and up and… Kathleen, disappointingly, dropped her
skirt back down.
Denise sat and absorbed it all, enchanted by this woman’s
crossing left over (swish) right
legs and hosiery. “What do you think about stockings now, Denise? Tell
me the truth, now.”
Denise answered before she could stop herself. “Well,” she said,
“I always thought they were kind of slutty. I thought only hookers wore
them.”
Kathleen nodded. “Yes, women wear them when they feel in charge of
their own sexuality. For a long time in this world, that was not to be
found in a woman outside of a brothel or on a street corner. But these
days–”
crossing right over (swish) left
“… surely you know that women are comfortable with being much more
sexual without male permission. Or even participation.”
That sounded right to Denise. She nodded and looked at how
Kathleen’s stockings made her seem so powerful, so sensual.
“Would you like to feel my stockings, Denise?” Kathleen asked,
breathing a little bit quickly. “You really ought to touch them to see
how they feel to you.”
Denise could think of nothing more she would rather do than caress
the silky nylons, and she nodded dumbly as Kathleen
crossed left over (swish) right
and said, “Come do so, then.”
Denise walked over to the chair where Kathleen was sitting, and,
tentatively, ran one finger over the other woman’s knee. The material
was very soft and almost slippery, and she thought it felt quite
marvelous. She said so.
“Yes, dear, but you have to feel it with your whole hand. You
don’t get the same effect with your finger, I assure you.” With that,
Kathleen grabbed Denise’s hand and placed its palm on her ankle. “Feel
the stocking all the way up. It may even be easier if you kneel.”
Denise thought this made sense, and after getting on her knees
gently stroked Kathleen’s pretty ankle and then moved her hand all the
way up her calf, rounding the knee and culminating on the upper thigh–
the welt, in fact. Denise even got quite daring and slid her hand a bit
up the other woman’s skirt at the slit, and felt the end of the stocking
meet warm thigh. All the while, Kathleen looked down at her, eyes
glistening, a smile lighting her face. Denise lightly scratched at the
top of the stocking with her long fingernails.
“Yes, Denise, that feels quite good, and makes that absolutely
enticing swishing sound we heard earlier. Be careful, though, as these
are expensive hose and we wouldn’t want to give them a run, now would
we?” Denise shook her head emphatically. “Long fingernails are, of
course, one of the utmost feelings to have at the tops of your
stockings, or following your garter straps up to the belt…”
Kathleen sighed. “But the most intriguing thing about stockings is
the way they smell. Very thin silk or nylon has the most interesting
aroma. You’d like to find out what I’m talking about, wouldn’t you?”
Denise was very interested in finding out what Kathleen was talking
about. She nodded as Kathleen
uncrossed her legs (swish) and left them uncrossed
“Good.” Kathleen hiked her skirt up quite a bit. From her vantage
point on the floor, Denise could see the entire expanse of her legs,
now, as well as the garter belt and some matching green silken panties.
“Why don’t you rest your head against my inner thigh and you’ll find out
what I’m referring to?” She parted her legs slightly, so Denise would
have room to do so.
Denise was thrilled, and put her face next to Kathleen’s
stocking-clad thigh, inhaling. Her nose caught a pleasant mixture of
smells– a light, fabricky smell that must be the stockings, a floral
scent that Denise recognized as Kathleen’s perfume and… another
aroma… slightly familiar but subtly different. Definitely exciting.
“Mmmmm…” she sighed as she rubbed her face against Kathleen’s thighs.
“Yes, Denise, I agree, it’s the most wonderful thing in the world.
It actually gets even better the higher up you place your nose. Even
above the stocking tops, if that makes any sense. Nibble on the garter
strap as you go up.”
Denise couldn’t do anything but obey, and wouldn’t have wanted to
stop even if she could have. The perfume/silk smells were strong, but
the third, unidentifiable aroma grew more potent.
“Oh,” sighed Kathleen as Denise slowly edged her head further up
her skirt. “I forgot to tell you one of the nicest things about
stockings.”
“Hmmm…?” sighed Denise. It was barely even a question.
“You can actually go without panties, if you dare, and still keep your
legs looking ultra-sexy. Would you like to see what that looks like?”
“Mm hmm…”
“Well, I can’t reach them right now, but if you could take them off
for me you could see how the style looks. Will you, please?”
“Mm hmm…”
Denise slid her hands around the sides of Kathleen’s legs, up her
skirt, and round to her buttocks. She slowly but firmly tugged the
panties down around Kathleen’s knees, revealing an elegantly maintained
patch of pubic hair, and the nether lips nearby. Framed by the
stockings and garter-belt, and encircled by the green dress, it was
quite enticing, Denise had to admit.
Kathleen spread her legs lewdly, now, and grabbed Denise’s chin,
looking her straight in the eyes. “If you do what I ask you to do, I’ll
let you kiss your way up the seams of my stockings.”
Seams, thought Denise dreamily, I had forgotten about those. What
would she have to do to be allowed to kiss them?
She nodded, vigorously.
“All you must do,” Kathleen explained, “is not stop kissing when
you reach the top of the stockings. Do you understand, Denise?”
“Yes,” Denise replied, with a gulp. She understood.
“Perfect, my darling. You may proceed whenever you are ready.”
Denise wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. She raised
Kathleen’s leg up slightly and revealed the seam on the back of her
calf. It looked delectable. She placed her mouth on it and began
alternately nibbling and kissing her way up it. Kathleen seemed to be
doing something with her brassiere at the moment, but Denise could only
follow the intriguing black line up the back of her leg, savoring the
taste of sweat and silk. She reached the point at which the garter
strap was clasped to the stocking, and there was a circular loop of
fabric which was paler than the rest. She tongued it briefly, but
remembered her promise as Kathleen leaned back in her chair, raising her
legs into the air and resting them on Denise’s back.
Now was the time to go further, and she licked her way under the
rim of the stocking top, all the way around to the top garter strap.
She kissed Kathleen’s inner thigh, and nibbled her way up to where
Kathleen wanted her. She felt the hem of the green dress hit the back
of her neck as she inhaled the pungent aroma of Kathleen’s womanhood,
and began sucking the outer and inner lips of her pussy (where did that
word come from? part of her thought) before moving her tongue like an
experienced pro to Kathleen’s clit (another word she never used). She
had never done this before, but it was like the instructions were buried
in her head, waiting to come forth when needed. The other woman began
to gasp as Denise played her mouth up and down Kathleen’s cunt (yes!
Cunt was the right word!) and Denise felt fingers in her hair as the
thighs surrounding her head began to buck uncontrollably in the ecstasy
of orgasm.
* * *
Hours later, in Kathleen’s bedroom, sprawled across the bed, her
face still buried between the stocking-clad thighs, Denise wondered
where this sudden enjoyment of women and women’s bodies had come from.
This felt so different, but so oddly right that she couldn’t help
plunging her tongue over and over again into Kathleen’s pussy until her
fr– well maybe “friend” was the wrong word. Kathleen was obviously
more than just a friend to Denise. “Mistress”, the word arose from her
subconscious. Now, that was appropriate. Her nipples felt exquisite on
the satin sheets, Kathleen begged for orgasm once again, and whispered
further commands to her as Denise slid her hand down between her own
legs and fingered her cunt until she, too, came.
* * *
Denise faced the other woman across a glass table in Atlanta. Her
name was “Brittany”, and she was already well on her way to compliance.
Denise
crossed left over (swish) right