Date: Mon, 04 Apr 2005 13:15:47 +0000
From: Frank Staples <frankstaples@hotmail.com>
Subject: The clothes we wear

Chapter 1.
His parents were going away for the week-end! And for the first time they
were going to let him stay  by himself. At 15, Frank thought this was great!
He could listen to his music, watch what he liked on TV, as late as he liked
and drink beer. It was the main holiday season, so all his friends were
away: his family always went late, because it was out of season and cheaper.
Besides the grass (all four acres of it) had to be kept under control: this
was the only job he had to do while his parents were away. His father was
already in Brighton for a conference and his mother was catching the train
that Friday night to join him.

Because it was the first time, mother was fussing over everything; as if he
couldn't cook the basics and remember to lock up. She meant well and he
didn't want to upset her but couldn't she just go? Time was going by and, as
usual, she was trying to fit more into the day than was reasonably possible
and so he could see that she was running late. "What time did you say you
had to be at the station?" he asked in that well known gambit to stop
someone in headlong flight. She looked at her watch, "Oh! No! I haven't
time, I must get ready," said his mother, hurrying out of the kitchen and
heading for the stairs. "I'll have to explain things while I change."

So he trailed up the stairs behind her. She headed for the bathroom, taking
off her blouse and then unzipping her skirt and stepping out of it as she
went through the door. "Now you have got a steak in the fridge, salad in the
tupperware and ice cream in the freezer. Tomorrow you can have a fry-up and
that pizza in the evening. On Sunday there's a the stew in the fridge, warm
it up and do some potatoes. We can have eggs when I get back. Are you going
to be alright?" As she said all this, her bra had come off, she had pulled
her pants down and started to wash in the basin.

It was not unusual for the family to leave the bathroom door open and as
kids they had seen her naked on many occasions, but it was some time since
he had seen her like this and, although she hadn't changed, he was much more
curious about women's bodies than he had been before. Her breasts and belly
were loose but from behind she had a really nice shape, the highlight of
which was a pair of beautifully rounded buttocks. "Well?" she demanded as
her face came out of the flannel.
"Er yes, I suppose so." he answered a trifle guiltily, he had, after all,
been trying to get a good view of her thick black pubic bush.
"Good," as she dried herself off, "in that case, do the washing up and keep
the kitchen clean."
They went through to the bedroom and he sat on the chair by the door,
waiting for further instructions as she got dressed. Out came her girdle,
her pregnancies had not let her keep a flat stomach, despite all the
exercise, and so on "dressing up" days she struggled into one. On went the
bra and then she picked up her stockings and sat on the end of the bed to
put them on. "Now, don't forget to do the grass..."
She lifted one knee to put the bunched up stocking over her toes and he had
a panoramic vision of her crotch. All the rest of her admonitions flowed
past him like a weak radio signal. He tried not to stare but here was the
answer to so many discussions and speculations at school. Yes the hair went
all the way back between her buttocks. You could see all those lips that the
sex-education guy had talked about. And, oh shit, it made you hard just
looking at it. The leg came down and the attachments were made with a roll
of the hips to the side. The second stocking went on in the same way and by
the end he was desperately crossing his legs to hide his problem. In a daze
he watched her finish dressing and then, after a quick brush through her
hair, she was off downstairs. He had to follow, hoping that she would be in
too much of a hurry to notice the diminishing but still respectable bulge in
the front of his jeans.

He needn't have worried; in a whirl of activity, involving shoes, coat, bag
(check the purse and the instructions paper) and then a quick peck on the
cheek and she was gone! He locked the door, because the house was quite
isolated and they had had strange callers in the past and realised that he
was on his own! It occurred to him afterwards that he had not seen the dress
or the shoes before and that she seemed really animated, never mind the rush
to get ready, she was looking forward to something. Were His parents still
capable of a "dirty weekend" together in a seaside resort hotel, doing the
sort of thing that traditionally went on in such places? They were only in
their 40s, so he supposed that anything was possible. Like most children his
imagination refused to go much further about what might happen but he could
see that if she turned him on so easily anything was possible with her
husband!
Frank retrieved his beer from the garage and put it in the fridge and
settled down to watch the football on TV. It wasn't all that good, lots of
defensive attacks, with the teams trying to set up the formulas worked out
in training, and being thwarted by anticipation. No one tried the
through-ball and soon his  mind wandered. The image of the girdle being
pulled up, the open crotch, the tense thighs during the hip roll to attach
the back suspender, all came back to him and soon he was half dreaming and
half watching the match. She had certainly looked good once she stood up
with her belly pulled in and her breasts held up by her lace bra. Walking
away from him to find her dress she had looked tight and firm, with those
fabulous legs shimmering in the stockings as she swayed to and fro getting
the dress off its hanger.
"Those girdles must be really strong to achieve that effect," he thought,
"but what a struggle to get it on! No wonder she doesn't wear it all the
time." And so his mind moved round in circles always over the same points,
guiltily aware that he was getting excited over his own mother. Well not
really, just the images she had left behind. It could easily have been Nola
Michaels, one of the women whose daughters had done the puppet theatre with
him earlier in the holidays. Now there was an idea! Suddenly, the football
was forgotten.
Nola was in her 40s as well, but tall and with a full and spectacular
figure. For some months she had been a partner in his "older woman seduces
teenager" fantasies. He had seen her in a bikini and knew that she had the
same stretch marks but she didn't seem to mind people seeing them. In fact
her bikini went so low that her buttock crack was visible at moments of
exertion and it was so thin that the outline of her bush was visible. Oh
yes, she would do very well.

They had played the swim-under-the-arches game in the pool in a big group.
When it was her turn, she didn't quite get to the end and surfaced in front
of Frank, grabbing hold of him to help her find her feet. Her arms were
muscular and, as her breasts flattened themselves against his chest for a
moment, he felt how soft and full they were. When it was his turn to dive he
knew that he dare not fail to get to the end so he made a big thing about
having the smallest at the front of the line and therefore Nola at the end.
He dived and passed under all of the others until he saw Nola's legs and
bikini come into sight. He drifted upwards a bit and as he passed through
her legs he appeared to get stuck, and that was how he had managed to feel
her legs around him for a moment and bump His arm against her crotch. She
must have guessed because she gave him a strange look all through his
apologies and for a while she kept her distance during the other games they
played.

He closed his eyes and undid his jeans. His cock was aching gently and the
end was soaking wet. He eased his jeans and pants down and got comfortable
in the chair. He reran the afternoon but with a new leading lady. This time
he overcame his shyness and before Nola got as far as putting on her coat,
he put his arms around her and kissed her. She responded with a full
open-mouthed kiss and then ran her hand down his back in took hold of his
buttock. "If you want me it will have to be quick, I must catch my train."
"Yes I do," he grunted, and she led him to the living room. Her hands went
up under her dress and she slid her pants down her long legs and stepped out
of them. He dropped his jeans and pants and moved up behind her as she knelt
on the settee. She reached back and pulled her dress up over her back and
lowered her face and shoulders onto the settee. Her buttocks stuck out with
her girdle stretched across them. In the shadow under the line of the girdle
and between her legs was her opening. He knelt behind her and found the
opening. It was wet and slippery and when she felt his prick she pushed
backwards. He thrust forward and filled all her deep places.
"Be quick!"
He thrust again and was met by her hips pushing back onto him. Very quickly
he came. She waited a short while for him to recover and then cleaned up and
left for her weekend in Brighton.
Frank came; hard! The first jet landed on his face and the rest on his
stomach. He checked the chair for fallout and then went upstairs to clean
up. His mother hadn't cleared up, so he put her discarded pants and bra in
the washing basket. As he did so the image of her getting dressed came back.
He started to get hard again and then he wondered what it would feel like to
wear a bra and girdle. Once the idea took hold, it had to be satisfied.
He went into their bedroom and opened her drawers. The first one was her
underwear and he sorted through the pants and tights until he found her
bras. He chose one and then looked for a girdle and stockings. Once he had a
complete set, he stripped and stepped into the girdle. He pulled it up and
found that it was really tight, even on him, although he was much slimmer
than his mother. As it got higher he found that the elastic in the ribs
started to catch and pull on his body hair. When it was right up, each
movement was rewarded by pulling and tweaking; totally un-sexy, so he pulled
it off. He still wanted to try it but all that pulling was off-putting. So
back to the bathroom and out with the razor! There was not so much to shave
off, so he made a good job of his legs but left his "bush" alone, on the
grounds that his mother wore it directly over her bush and it did not seem
to catch.

Back to the bedroom and trying the girdle again. This time there was no
problem. It was tight but there was no hair to pull so that was OK. He had
kept his prick out but it was being pressed down at a painful angle, so he
reorganised things so that it was held upright against his belly by the
girdle, with the tip just above the top. It felt like a warm hand wrapped
round his hips, squeezing him every time he moved. He was gripped on every
side and yet he was supported, not restricted in his actions. As he moved
around, his prick was massaged by the girdle and his stomach. By thrusting
his hips forward slightly, he could pull back his foreskin and vice versa.
His prick started to lubricate and the flexing grew more and more exciting.
To calm down, he sat on the edge of the bed, facing the wardrobe mirrors,
leant back and lifted his legs. He could see his balls and the start of his
buttocks: it was true, a woman in a girdle could be fucked.

He sat up and bunched up the first stocking. He lifted his knee and in the
mirror saw the same view of his crotch as he had seen with his mother. The
stocking felt soft and sensuous as it slid over his skin. He smoothed it up
from the toe, as he had seen his mother do, and then he snapped on the front
fastening. Lifting his hip to get at the back fastener he caught sight of
his legs in just the pose that had turned him on earlier. It wasn't quite
the same, because his legs did not have the right curve, but it still gave
him a buzz. The girdle was now being pulled downwards and
the soft second skin of the stocking was being pulled tight onto his leg. He
repeated the process and found that, when he stood up, he could feel every
movement from his toes to his hips through the stockings and the girdle.
After adjusting the straps and finding suitable padding he put on the bra.
It looked OK! The feel of the clothes kept him stiff and as he bent up and
down, His prick was getting more and more excited. He walked backwards and
forwards, feeling the draught on his skin though the stockings and the
undulations of the girdle against his belly. Did women feel this way in
these clothes or was it just him?
Frank looked in other drawers and found a black slip, which he put on and
enjoyed the slither of the material across his stockings. In a lower drawer
he found a set of black lace underwear and stockings. He had never seen them
on the washing line but it was obvious that they had been worn. They were
every boy's dream, on the right woman, but did his mother really wear them,
and if so, when? Again his mind blocked. So then he turned to the dresses
and skirts. He tried a full skirt dress. It flared as he turned and he felt
its caress as he moved around and sat on the edge of the bed. It made him
feel warm, except for his legs below the knee, where his movements created a
breeze through the stockings. Even so he could feel the coolness at the top
of his legs, where the stockings did not reach.
Then he tried on a tight skirt and a blouse. It was difficult to walk
freely, the skirt restricted his stride and he wondered if that was a plus
for women, all that semi-bondage. It made him move differently and, when he
sat on the bed and looked in the mirror, it rode up his legs but he had to
pull it right up to be able to get his legs apart enough to see his crotch.
That looked sexy! He sat back in a proper position and pulled the skirt down
to a normal level. Then he practiced crossing and re-crossing his legs, to
see the effect. He found out that the erotic effect depended on how you
smoothed the skirt afterwards. His legs were firm muscle from the sports he
played and actually looked quite sexy.

Frank was beginning to feel quite randy by this point and he was very aware
of the head of his prick rubbing against the inside of the slip and butting
up against the waistband of the skirt. The combination of the girdle's
pressure and the silky feel of the slip were driving him to the point of no
return. He slipped off the skirt, faced the mirror while he held the slip
against his thighs and thrust his hips forward. Massaged by the girdle and
sliding over the inside of a wet slip, his cock hardened quickly and soon he
was shooting jets of cum up the front of the slip.

When he had recovered, he decided to profit from a more relaxed prick and
get rid of the large bulge it made under the girdle.  Stripping off, he went
to the drawer with the pants and found a really tight pair. Just as he was
about to shut the drawer he saw a box right at the back. He took it out and
opened it; it was a vibrator.

There was a lot of talk and speculation about what vibrators were really
used for and they all had images of women going crazy with lust when they
used them. One boy said that he had read that most of them were actually
used for anal sex, but the rest had thought that he was being gross and the
subject had not been pursued. Looking at one now, Frank had very mixed
feelings; it really wasn't very thick and he knew that he could take it in
his anus, it was smaller than many of the pricks he had experienced. But his
real shock was that his mother had one. Did she become crazy like they said?
Did his father know? An image of his mother pushing this into the cunt he
had just seen and then writhing on the bed, flashed through his mind and, to
his consternation, he started to stiffen.

He couldn't wait, he had to try the vibrator. He went and got the lubricant
and then lay back on the bed. After lubricating his anus, he tried the
vibrator controls and set it to a medium speed. He was ready, he brought his
knees up and reached down between his legs. The vibrator touched his anus
and he just held it there. Tingling waves ran through him and his anus
became the vortex of intense pleasure. He varied the speed and found that
his sensations changed with them. The light touch of a fast speed made him
twitch and jerk; firm pressure at the medium speed gave him a deep warm
glow; a slow speed massaged him so that he opened involuntarily and the
vibrator slipped in.

Once in, he moved it around, and nearly jumped out of his skin once it
touched his prostate. Slowly he brought it back to that point and slowed the
vibrator right down. The intensity of the waves rushing through him now was
indescribable. He held it in place and surrendered to the sensations.
Looking down he was surprised to find that his prick was relaxed, when his
brain was telling him that it was as hard as rock and ready to come. He
closed his eyes and felt the pressure in his cock swelling to a huge climax.
It was coming, coming and then there it was. He opened his eyes and watched
his orgasm flood out of his half hard prick, jerking hard at each spasm. He
immediately had to break the vibrator's contact because it was too much and
when he started to remove it, his anus expelled it with a huge contraction,
greater than after he had been fucked. Now he had a replacement for his
schoolboy lovers and he returned to his new world of trying on women's
clothes.

He pulled on the tightest pair of pants he could find, tucked his prick back
between his legs and settled the pants tightly in his crotch, to hold it in
place. Looking at the result in the mirror, he found that his front was flat
and smooth. He put on the girdle, stockings, slip and skirt again and
admired the effect.

Just then the front door-bell rang. Frank froze. He couldn't go to the door
like this and it would take too long to change, so he stood very still and
waited. It rang again. And he moved slowly to the window to see who it was
once they gave up and left the porch. Sure enough, a head appeared and he
pulled back just as the face looked up at the windows. He had seen enough;
it was Nola. He listened to her crunching across the gravel and then she was
gone! He breathed a sigh of relief and his balls slowly lowered themselves
to their normal position. He had to close the shutters to show that there
was no one at home. After a careful reconnaissance from the window, he went
quickly downstairs and closed the shutters in the main rooms and on the
front door. Now, at least, he would have time to change if, later on, anyone
came.
He went into the living room and sat in an armchair, carefully keeping his
legs together. Partly he wanted to know how it felt to respond to the
clothes he was wearing, and partly it was one way of keeping his cock under
control. The skirt rode up as he sank back into the seat and he felt the
slither of its hem and, above that, the slip as they moved up his thighs
over the stockings. He could not believe how sensuous it felt. He squeezed
his thighs together and his prick was pushed back under his legs, until it
rubbed against the chair seat. He shifted position and then crossed his
legs. Again his thighs were caressed by the movements of the skirt and
stockings. He leant back and closed his eyes.

It was two weeks since school had ended for the summer and he was already
missing Ray. He was a year older than Frank and they had been having an
"affair" for the last term. Ray had found him having a bath in the senior
dormitory and when Frank had seen that Ray's prick was getting hard as he
watched him drying, he invited him to have a good look and a feel if he
wanted too. He did, and they ended up with Ray's prick fucking the tunnel of
Frank's crotch.

After that they had rapidly progressed to Frank giving Ray blow jobs and
then to anal fucking as often as they could. Frank loved the taste of Ray's
prick in his mouth and the rush of his orgasm as it blasted against the back
of his throat. He longed for the feel of that thick shaft as its tip opened
his anus, stretching him wide so that the rest could thrust its way up into
him. Most of all Frank missed being under Ray while he thrust in and out
with such intensity.

As Frank lay back in the chair he started to imagine that it had been Ray at
the front door and that he had invited him in. There he was now, sitting in
the other chair watching Frank as he slid lower in the chair so that the
skirt rode higher. Frank re-crossed his legs, making sure that Ray got a
good view, ending up with his knees well up to one side so that Ray would be
able to see right up the outside of his thigh.
"Let's sit on the settee," said Ray and Frank got up and crossed over. As he
sat down he made sure that the skirt was pulled up well above the knee. He
leant back against the arm and then felt Ray's hand slide up his leg, under
the skirt until his fingers could stroke Frank's imprisoned prick.
"Why did you dress up like this?" Ray asked as he stroked the tip through
the material.
"Because I wanted to know how women feel in these clothes and what it would
be like to be fucked in them."
"So you want me to fuck your cunt, do you?" and he slipped his finger under
the pants elastic and pressed it straight onto Frank's anus.
"Yes!" he replied, wriggling his buttocks to feel the finger better. As he
did so, all of the girdle squeezed his hips and he felt the skirt and slip
sliding further up his thighs. "Shall we do it here, or do you want to find
a bed?"

Ray wanted a bed, and so Frank led him upstairs to the one in his parents
room because it was next to the full length wardrobe mirrors. He led him
into the bedroom and pulled off the duvet; he didn't want to miss anything.
Ray came up behind him and whispered, "Well, what do you want?"
Frank took a deep breath, "I want you to treat me like a slut who needs her
cunt fucked hard and deep." When he looked round.
Ray was smiling, "OK, I'm hot for it now, so get you pants off and kneel on
the bed!"

Frank was all compliance; he hitched up his skirt, pulled down his pants and
stepped out of them. His prick burst out of its long confinement and stuck
out rigidly into the skirt. He bent forward and helped Ray take off his
trousers and soon saw his beautiful prick standing up with its uncut head
half uncovered, glistening with the lubrication. Frank took one long suck
and then Ray turned him round and pushed him onto his hands and knees.

Frank pulled up his skirt and felt Ray filling him with lubricant. Then he
was ready Ray gripped Frank's  hips and brought his rod up to the entrance.
One steady thrust and he went right in. After the break since their last
fuck at school it was hard and Frank  yelled. Ray thrust again and Frank
shouted again. Ray carried on and steadily, Frank opened up enough to start
enjoying the sensations. Once he was fully open, Ray could get the whole of
his prick inside him, hitting spots deep inside.
As Ray thrust in and out, Frank felt the girdle grip him and pull on the
stockings, so that they cut into the soft part of his inner thigh. The skirt
was bunched up round his waist and each time Ray banged against his
buttocks, Frank's prick swung to and fro, swollen and sensitive, aching to
find release; he wouldn't last long. Then Ray said, "Let's change position,"
and he bunched up two pillows and put them so that there was a gap between
them. "Lie on top, with your prick in the middle." So Frank wriggled out of
his skirt and pulled up the slip so that he could lie over the hump Ray had
made. Frank was now sideways on to the mirror and he could see his buttocks
raised up above the rest of his body, covered by the girdle in a round curve
of white between the black of the slip and the tan of the stockings. Frank
watched as Ray's prick lowered itself towards his buttocks; and then,
suddenly he felt the urgent penetration as the rigid cock was thrust right
up to the hilt, across all the really sensitive parts inside him.
He shuddered and groaned and watched Ray settle astride his thighs and rest
on his hands, which were either side of his chest. Without any warning he
started to fuck Frank hard and deep. As he found his rhythm Frank found that
it was getting more and more exciting with each thrust. He could feel the
weight of Ray's body when his hips hit Frank's buttocks; he could see
himself in the mirror laid out like a sacrifice underneath Ray. They were
alone and so Frank could yell his head off and no one else would hear. It
felt so good to shout his desires as they jumped into his mind, it increased
his sense of abandonment. As his voice echoed round the bedroom, Frank was
driven to shout louder, to be more explicit, to be cruder and, in the end
without any inhibition between thought and speech.
Ray came, deep in side him. He collapsed on top of Frank. "Get up!" Frank
yelled, "I need to fuck you!" So he dragged himself up and Frank pushed him
onto his knees in front of the mirror. A quick finger full of lubrication
and a hitch at the front of the girdle; and then Frank was into him. He
thrust as hard and deep as he could and was rewarded by a real shout of
fear. Frank held it in for a long pause and then started fucking Ray
vigorously. Looking down, he could see his stockinged legs swaying backwards
and forwards with each thrust, and the slip sliding about over his prick. He
wasn't going to last long, it had been too exciting and sure enough the
sight in the mirror drove him over the edge: the slim woman in the mirror
was kneeling with her legs apart, her breasts thrust forward and in her hand
was an engorged prick which emerged from under her black slip. As he came he
shouted, "Give it to Me! Give it to Me! Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuuuuccccck!!"
hitting the mirror first over a three foot gap and then shooting great jets
across the bed.

Frank collapsed onto the bed and let everything slowly return to normal. He
pulled down the girdle to release the strain on the stockings and smoothed
down the slip. Even after all that, the slipperiness of the clothing was
turning him on and he knew that he would continue to wear them until he went
to bed.


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