Fishnet pantyhose
I know he likes fishnet pantyhose, so this night I waited for him in my sexy black leotard combined with my black fishnet pantyhose and black boots.
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He could not resist the temptation and I finished all tied up and gagged at her mercy.
"You're going to love the surprise I have for you tonight," I teased, my voice as smooth as velvet. He looked up from his laptop, a mix of curiosity and mild irritation etched on his face.
"Can't it wait? I'm in the middle of something," he replied, his eyes never leaving the screen.
I smirked, knowing full well his work was the last thing on his mind when I strutted out in my skintight black ensemble. The fishnet pantyhose clung to my legs like a second skin, the intricate pattern leaving just enough to the imagination to drive him wild. "Oh, I promise it won't take long," I purred, leaning against the doorframe in a pose that could make any man drop his jaw.
Sensing his curiosity piqued, I sauntered over to the couch, my hips swaying with each step. The leather groaned softly as I sat down, giving him a perfect view of the leotard hugging my curves. He couldn't help but glance up, his eyes lingering on the way the material stretched over my breasts. "You see, I've been thinking," I began, playing with a strand of my hair, "about how much you love those superheroines with their tight outfits and all those...accessories."
He swallowed hard, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as if he could somehow will his thoughts into the digital realm to escape the growing tension. "What about it?" he asked, trying to play it cool.
"Well," I said, standing up again and making sure the fishnets made a tantalizing sound with every movement, "I thought maybe I could be your superheroine for the night." His eyes widened as I struck a pose, one hand on my hip, the other pointing dramatically to the sky. "But instead of fighting crime, I'd be fighting...your desires."
With that, I pulled out some ropes and a roll of duct tape. "Oh, I don't know where all this came from."
He chuckled nervously, his eyes darting between the makeshift bondage gear and my smoldering gaze. "You're joking, right?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" I whispered, dropping the ropes and tape onto the coffee table with a thud. His pulse quickened, and I could almost see the cogs in his brain whirring as he tried to decide how to react.
"Okay," he said, his voice a little shaky. "But I don't want to get too crazy."
"Don't worry," I reassured him with a wink. "It's all in good fun."
I approached him slowly, the fishnets whispering against my legs as I moved closer. He leaned back into the couch, his eyes following me like a hawk watching its prey. I straddled him, my thighs pressing into his chest as I brought my face close to his. "Trust me," I murmured against his ear.
My fingers trailed down his neck to his wrists. That was enough for him to take the ropes and tie them around m hands at my back, his knots surprisingly firm. The tension grew as I felt the coarse fibers bite into my skin. The room was filled with the scent of our mingling perfumes and the faint aroma of the leather couch, a heady mix that was only heightening my anticipation.
With my hands secured behind me, I leaned in for a kiss. He met me halfway, his lips parting as our tongues danced together in a silent exchange of passion. The ropes held me in place, a delicious feeling of vulnerability washing over me. "Let me go, you villain." I said with mock anger, smiling into his mouth.
He chuckled, his hands moving to my waist. "As you wish, my heroine." With a gentle tug, he pulled me closer, his own desire evident in his touch. I felt the warmth of his skin against the cold, slick fabric of my leotard.
But the playfulness didn't last long. The hunger in his eyes grew more intense with each passing second. He reached for the duct tape, ripping off a piece with his teeth. I pretended to struggle, my heart racing with excitement. The sticky strip landed over my mouth, muffling my protests into cute little grunts. I knew he enjoyed the sound, the way his pupils dilated.
He pushed me in the floor, and then he tied my ankles together, the rope tight against the fishnet fabric. I wriggled and squirmed, my breaths coming out in muffled sounds through the tape. He was surprisingly dominant, and I liked it. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment, too. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with it, as he secured the ropes.
"Now, now, let's not get too ahead of ourselves," I mumbled against the tape, trying to keep the playful banter going despite the escalating situation.
He just smirked, standing up to admire his handiwork. "Now I can go back to my job. I swear I have to finish it tonight. But don't worry Superbabe. I'll come back for you," he said, his voice gruff with desire.
As he walked back to the laptop, I couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement and trepidation. Being tied up was a new experience for me, and I wasn't entirely sure if I had made the right choice. But the way his eyes devoured me, the way he couldn't resist my fishnet pantyhose, gave me a sense of power. I watched as he settled back into his work, occasionally glancing over at me, a smirk playing on his lips.
I tested the knots, but they held firm. The rope was biting into my wrists, a small sting that grew more pronounced with each movement. The fishnets felt tight and restrictive, yet somehow liberating, as if they were part of the game we were playing. My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, the seconds ticking by like a metronome to the rhythm of my racing heart.
As the minutes stretched into hours, the room grew warm. Sweat beaded on my skin, the leotard sticking to me like a second layer. The ropes around my ankles began to chafe against the sensitive flesh, but I remained silent, not wanting to disturb his focus. The occasional rustle of the pantyhose was the only sound in the room, a tantalizing reminder of the predicament I'd gotten myself into.
"You're going to love the surprise I have for you tonight," I teased, my voice as smooth as velvet. He looked up from his laptop, a mix of curiosity and mild irritation etched on his face.
"Can't it wait? I'm in the middle of something," he replied, his eyes never leaving the screen.
I smirked, knowing full well his work was the last thing on his mind when I strutted out in my skintight black ensemble. The fishnet pantyhose clung to my legs like a second skin, the intricate pattern leaving just enough to the imagination to drive him wild. "Oh, I promise it won't take long," I purred, leaning against the doorframe in a pose that could make any man drop his jaw.
Sensing his curiosity piqued, I sauntered over to the couch, my hips swaying with each step. The leather groaned softly as I sat down, giving him a perfect view of the leotard hugging my curves. He couldn't help but glance up, his eyes lingering on the way the material stretched over my breasts. "You see, I've been thinking," I began, playing with a strand of my hair, "about how much you love those superheroines with their tight outfits and all those...accessories."
He swallowed hard, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as if he could somehow will his thoughts into the digital realm to escape the growing tension. "What about it?" he asked, trying to play it cool.
"Well," I said, standing up again and making sure the fishnets made a tantalizing sound with every movement, "I thought maybe I could be your superheroine for the night." His eyes widened as I struck a pose, one hand on my hip, the other pointing dramatically to the sky. "But instead of fighting crime, I'd be fighting...your desires."
With that, I pulled out some ropes and a roll of duct tape. "Oh, I don't know where all this came from."
He chuckled nervously, his eyes darting between the makeshift bondage gear and my smoldering gaze. "You're joking, right?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" I whispered, dropping the ropes and tape onto the coffee table with a thud. His pulse quickened, and I could almost see the cogs in his brain whirring as he tried to decide how to react.
"Okay," he said, his voice a little shaky. "But I don't want to get too crazy."
"Don't worry," I reassured him with a wink. "It's all in good fun."
I approached him slowly, the fishnets whispering against my legs as I moved closer. He leaned back into the couch, his eyes following me like a hawk watching its prey. I straddled him, my thighs pressing into his chest as I brought my face close to his. "Trust me," I murmured against his ear.
My fingers trailed down his neck to his wrists. That was enough for him to take the ropes and tie them around m hands at my back, his knots surprisingly firm. The tension grew as I felt the coarse fibers bite into my skin. The room was filled with the scent of our mingling perfumes and the faint aroma of the leather couch, a heady mix that was only heightening my anticipation.
With my hands secured behind me, I leaned in for a kiss. He met me halfway, his lips parting as our tongues danced together in a silent exchange of passion. The ropes held me in place, a delicious feeling of vulnerability washing over me. "Let me go, you villain." I said with mock anger, smiling into his mouth.
He chuckled, his hands moving to my waist. "As you wish, my heroine." With a gentle tug, he pulled me closer, his own desire evident in his touch. I felt the warmth of his skin against the cold, slick fabric of my leotard.
But the playfulness didn't last long. The hunger in his eyes grew more intense with each passing second. He reached for the duct tape, ripping off a piece with his teeth. I pretended to struggle, my heart racing with excitement. The sticky strip landed over my mouth, muffling my protests into cute little grunts. I knew he enjoyed the sound, the way his pupils dilated.
He pushed me in the floor, and then he tied my ankles together, the rope tight against the fishnet fabric. I wriggled and squirmed, my breaths coming out in muffled sounds through the tape. He was surprisingly dominant, and I liked it. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment, too. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with it, as he secured the ropes.
"Now, now, let's not get too ahead of ourselves," I mumbled against the tape, trying to keep the playful banter going despite the escalating situation.
He just smirked, standing up to admire his handiwork. "Now I can go back to my job. I swear I have to finish it tonight. But don't worry Superbabe. I'll come back for you," he said, his voice gruff with desire.
As he walked back to the laptop, I couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement and trepidation. Being tied up was a new experience for me, and I wasn't entirely sure if I had made the right choice. But the way his eyes devoured me, the way he couldn't resist my fishnet pantyhose, gave me a sense of power. I watched as he settled back into his work, occasionally glancing over at me, a smirk playing on his lips.
I tested the knots, but they held firm. The rope was biting into my wrists, a small sting that grew more pronounced with each movement. The fishnets felt tight and restrictive, yet somehow liberating, as if they were part of the game we were playing. My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, the seconds ticking by like a metronome to the rhythm of my racing heart.
As the minutes stretched into hours, the room grew warm. Sweat beaded on my skin, the leotard sticking to me like a second layer. The ropes around my ankles began to chafe against the sensitive flesh, but I remained silent, not wanting to disturb his focus. The occasional rustle of the pantyhose was the only sound in the room, a tantalizing reminder of the predicament I'd gotten myself into.
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