lingerie | couples | micro monday
Visions of a Sugarplum Fairy
She spices up her sexy encounters with lingerie
When she was nineteen, she didn’t earn much, but she loved treating herself to sexy lingerie. Always with stockings, because that’s what she and her boyfriend preferred, so she’d save up to buy flimsy undies, matching bras, garter belts and knickers.
Silky stockings were exciting. Her boyfriend could run his hand up her leg and under her skirt, to touch that exotic area of bare flesh above the stocking top, before the knicker lace began. With his manual job, his skin was rough and rasping. Somehow it thrilled her to have his hands, like bear paws, tugging her gusset aside, before those solid fingers dug into her folds.
She would submit to this rough foreplay, a delicate, fragile creature in the hands of a lusting, hungry savage. With closed eyes she’d lie back, with her skirt rucked up around her waist, as his thumb pressed against her clit and two fingers plunged in and out of her slippery hole.
In her lingerie, she was a vision. Her pale flesh adorned with pretty satin and lace suspenders, to pin the stockings, making a fabric frame around the dark hollows of her pussy.
She abandoned herself to the sensations he plucked from her, using coarse fingers or his flickering tongue. She floated like Ophelia, bourne along in a heady current of escalating arousal. The sound of his breath, made raspy by mounting excitement, became a song of worship to her ears. Her juices ran freely because he’d awoken her own hunger, the primal instinct she concealed within a ‘girl next door’ exterior.
Her petite derriere ground down on his hands. She uttered quiet little moans, wanting nothing to stop his exquisite torture. She naively thought sex was meant to be quiet. She had yet to learn how arousing he would consider her sighs and groans, especially when used to convey encouragement or enthusiasm for a particular pressure or caress. For now, she could gasp and squeeze her eyes shut in her climax, throbbing and keening silently as her pelvis twitched, and she spiralled out of control.
Other times she would kneel over him, like a sugarplum fairy in a pastel lingerie set, inviting him to pinch her breasts through the fabric of her bra. She’d straddle one of his legs, then bend to the task of fellatio; taking his swollen member in her mouth. He had taught her what he liked, pressure from his perineum to its tip, he encouraging licking and sucking around the bulbous crown until his breathing laboured. She was a quick study and soon learned the grip of one hand and her mouth combined could bring him to an explosive climax.
As she worked him, her wet pussy rubbed urgently against his thigh, a smear of moisture conveying she was turned on and turned out. In front of him, at head height, he enjoyed the vista of her swelling breasts, plump temptation jiggling in a lacy bra. She continued licking and pumping his cock until he came, decorating his stomach and groin with warm ropes of opaque jism. Now she gently sucked him clean; even as he wilted, she lapped, making delicate inroads in the trail of semen, the taste of his salty climax.
Afterwards, they would kiss and tumble and caress one another in a celebration of their love and spent passion.
Posy Churchgate is based in the UK & writes |Fiction : Romantic, Erotic, Fantasy, YA |Non-fiction : sexuality, relationships |Editor for Tantalizing Tales & Teaser Tales, she supports new talent. More content can be found on FrolicMe.com & Tickle.life | Using this link for Medium membership will support her directly, plus giving you access to all Medium’s great content. Or use this link to ensure Posy’s latest stories go direct to your inbox.