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Her name is Grace. I found that out much later when I visited her shop where I bought my first pair of PVC Wank Panties. But that was about a week after our first public encounter. I wear my new kinky knickers now. I wear them with my nipple weights attached to my piercings as I try to recall how we first met.
It was definitely mid-week as I walked through town. I can’t remember what I was thinking about. It was definitely not kink. Shiny clothes had never crossed my mind before. Grace changed everything.
I was looking in a shoe shop window when her reflection caught my eye. I turned to see the real deal. Was it her dark, mysterious shades and her tied back brown hair that fired my imagination? The Gentlemanly side of me would like to say it was. But I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you instead that it was her thigh-high black PVC ‘come-fuck-me’ boots and that tight arse clad in matching black PVC shorts.
What confidence and what a cheek! This tall woman sauntered through the busy streets like she didn’t give a toss. Her kinky stilettos clacked on stone as her shorts creaked against her arse and smooth long legs. Her boots finished three inches or so below the shortest Ankara travesti of Kinky shorts. Her shiny garb and confidence made me tremble as my trousers tightened around my crotch. She ignited a new found PVC Kink within me. I just had to touch this brazen stranger’s shorts.
The sun glanced off her tight, shiny shorts as she walked ‘as calm as you like’ and ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ through the throng of busy mid-week shoppers. I wanted to fuck her then and I want to fuck her now as I think about her kinky confidence. I didn’t realise I was following her until she slapped her pert arse. My head swam as I stumbled after this mysterious woman. I even bumped into a few folk. Such was my heady lust!
Her shorts creaked and her sensual boots clacked. This woman in the striped black and white t-shirt was the perfect lure. Sweat coursed down my face as I clenched my wet palms. The thought of primal animal sex totally engulfed my thoughts.
She looked around again as I fell away to a shop entrance. Did she know she was being followed? I should have felt ashamed but no such rationality prevailed. My throat was dry and my temples thudded in hot lust.
I reappeared Antalya travesti and thought I’d lost her. I panicked and quickened my pace. She emerged from behind a parked truck on the opposite side of the road. I sucked in a lungful of air. Even crossing the road, in my fervoured state, seemed like the biggest gamble. I was so conscious of everything around me until I had safely crossed.
I quickened my steps to catch up to her whilst trying to remain unseen. How I wanted to spank her arse and thrust my wet head between her legs. I held back as she walked on like ‘no-one’s business.’ How people must have admired her slutty confidence.
She turned down the river path where few people go. I snaked round the metal bollards to follow her. Her bare arm swung in time to her full bum cheeks wobbling. My head was full of her plastic clad body. She walked on down the narrow tarmac path. The dappled sunlight hit her black, noisy PVC.
I was in a right state. I realised this when I bumped into her. She turned and laughed a girly laugh. I was putty in her hand.
“You know, you shouldn’t follow people,” she barked at me.
I tried to apologise but İstanbul travesti I was a mess.
She grabbed my collar and pulled me over to a tree. She smoothed my denim captured hard-on. She pulled my cock free. My dick strained as she enveloped it with her fist. Her palm was lubed with my pre-cum. She pumped then held off. She turned and shook her bum. I wanted to cup her tits but she brushed me away.
“No touching,” she said. “Now, butter my shorts.”
I wanked and arched as my arse tightened. In the open air, my spunk hit her shorts like the sound of rain. How my hot jizz globs shone on black shiny shorts. It started to run as she rubbed it over her arse. Then she made a show out of licking my hot man fat off her fingers.
I was breathless but momentarily relieved. As I pulled my jeans up and looked around, she slipped a business card in my wet pocket. She laughed and left me to my kinky thoughts. I needed time to collect myself. The card had details of a fetish shop. I thought of those thigh highs and shorts, her arse and cocky stance again as I wanked again at home. I needed some PVC in my life. As I gazed at her card, I knew I’d see her again very soon. I wanted her to expose her tits. I wanted to cup her plastic clad bum as I bit and sucked on her nipples. Those dreams came true, and much more besides, as my persistence won and my kink stash grew. She eventually let her husband watch me fuck her in the back of her shop.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32