Lynn was sitting at the sewing table working on a mu'u mu'u, feeling impatient and hoping her mother wouldn't notice.
"We'll be home sometime after ten. We'll probably go out for coffee in Kahala after the meeting."
Some sort of seminar. Was it money, or one of those self improvement classes? Lynn wasn't sure. All she cared about was that she would have the house to herself for several hours, something she had been anxiously waiting for ever since Ginger dropped her off.
Her father came by, looking handsome in a polo shirt and shorts. "Be careful, dear. I always worry when your alone like this. The Suedas will be home tonight. Call them if you need help."
"I just hope they don't get an eyeful," Lynn thought to herself.
Her mother came in, looking great as always. She had a flair for dressing, a little off-beat and always sexy. Some would say that she tended to look like a hooker, but the look was always expensive and tasteful. Tonight she wore a short flared skirt topped by a loose fitting blouse of matching cream colored nylon jersey. Her favorite fabric, soft, shiny and silky. She had great legs for a woman in her forties, and loved to show them off. Lynn couldn't help thinking that Ginger would no doubt approve.
During the last year Lynn had come to be curious about what her mother wore. Her curiosity had peaked a few months ago when, during their ritual Saturday morning shopping expedition, her mother had tried on a very sexy evening gown at the same store Ginger had taken her to just a few hours ago.
Lynn had never been interested in the clothes there. In fact, she usually felt embarrassed being there, as the clothes all seemed so blatantly sexy, the kind that cheap women wore to attract men. But when she saw her mother walk out of the dressing room she felt a sudden rush of excitement, and for the first time felt that this was something that she wanted to wear too.
The dress was black, slinky and shiny, with a plunging neckline that went all the way down to her waist. The back did likewise, coming to a point just above the crack of her ass. The dress was snug down over her hips, flaring out to a very wide hem line. The fabric was soft and supple, which made the skirt flutter and swirl as she walked. When Lynn saw that dress she felt a definite glow break out between her legs.
She had been delighted when her mother had decided to buy it. Every day after that she had thought about having the chance to wear it. For days she had only had the chance to steal away for a moment to run her hands over it hanging in her mother's closet. Even that simple touch had brought back the yearnings she had felt in the store.
Each night she had played with herself with a fantasy based on that dress. She imagined herself at a party, being watched by a group of boys, their eyes following her as she walked across the room. She imagined herself completely aroused, her pussy wet and throbbing, as she sat and talked trivialities with her friends. She would pick out one of the boys and from time to time look him straight in the eye, and he would squirm and look away, a noticeable bulge in his pants. The resulting orgasm was stronger than any she had before.
Finally, on a night like this, she had had her chance. All alone in the house, she had slipped it on and pretended to be at that party. She even spent a few minutes pinning her hair up and putting on makeup.
She had been amazed at how good the dress felt against her skin, and delighted in the way that, as she became aroused, the feeling fed the fire. She had spent a lot of time at first standing in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom, posing, noticing how wicked the back looked, how enticing it was to see the edges of her breasts when she leaned over.
One of her biggest concerns had been whether or not it would fit. Once she realized how much she wanted to wear it she had tried comparing her body with her mother's. They seemed about the same size, a fact she had noticed but had paid no attention to. Her breasts were not quite as large, but like her mother she had been pleasantly endowed for a woman of Japanese ancestry, and they both had small waists and well rounded hips.
The dress had turned out to be a size too big, but she had used that to good advantage. She spent a long time walking around the house, relishing the feel of the nylon jersey brushing against her skin, pausing occasionally to lift the skirt and fondle her cunt. Then, desperate to come, she thought of a way to do it and still feel the fabric all over her legs. All she had to do was slip her hand down at the waist in front. Had the dress fit properly that would have been difficult.
At first she had tried it standing in front of her mirror, thinking about a young man from the party fondling her out in the garden, but she felt that she really wanted to come laying down. She had gone to her parents' bedroom and sprawled out on their big bed, on her back, with her legs spread wide. Then she had slowly brought herself to a peak, all the while concentrating on how good the dress felt. It had been wonderful, the most satisfying sex she had ever had.
"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," Lynn said as her parents went up the short flight of stairs that led to the front door. Her mother's skirt caught her attention as it flicked across her legs, catching the light with an iridescent gleam. The image lingered in her mind even after they closed the door.
"Too bad she's wearing pantyhose," she said softly, knowing that the thought wouldn't have come to her had she not met Ginger. She had to admit that she had been less than forthcoming with Ginger about her feelings towards sexy clothes, but for some inexplicable reason she had decided to act more naive than she really was. She hoped that her willingness to learn and experiment had come across. Some of her own thoughts about sex still frightened her.
Finally, Lynn heard her father's BMW start up and pull away. She waited a few minutes, least they return for some forgotten detail, then she walked around the house closing all the curtains. At last, feeling nervous, hands shaking slightly, she went to her bedroom closet and took out her new outfit.
She stripped down to bra and panties, and pulled on the pants. They were surprisingly heavy. The fabric felt cool as it slid up her legs, a bit like a good nylon slip, but the sensation was stronger. They fit perfectly, nice and snug on her thighs and hips. Next came the shell top. It felt good on her tummy. "This is very sexy," she though to herself. "Mmmmm, very, very nice! So different from that pleated skirt. Much stronger. No wonder Ginger wants me to wear this."
She closed her bedroom door, so that she could see herself in the full length mirror on the back. She thought of her fantasy, and how she would appear to those boys at the party. The sheen of the fabric accentuated every curve of her body, especially the outline of her thighs. Turning for a look at her backside, she saw how the pants had been cut to be snug up her thighs to the cheeks of her ass, which stood out firm and round. The curved line around the bottom of her cheeks was clearly visible. There were seams all the way up the front and back, and the ones in back really accentuated her curves, like an old fashioned pair of nylons.
She turned back to the front view, and decided that another one of the things that made the pants look so sexy was the way they left an open space along the inside of her thighs, right up to her crotch. But the hem was dragging on the floor. She slipped on her new shoes, so high that she had to struggle to keep her balance. Now the hem was just off the floor, and the pants looked much better.
She was fascinated by the way the flared pants fell around her calves in soft folds, again the sheen highlighting each ripple of the fabric. The lose folds fluttered over her calves with even the tiniest movement. She held out the hem of one leg and guessed it to be over two feet across, yet the fabric was so slinky that the bell bottom effect was subdued. The look was soft and wicked at the same time. The shiny blue fabric looked very sexy, complementing the cool feeling on her skin.
She opened her bedroom door and walked out into the living room. The feeling on her legs was incredibly good. She walked all around the house, concentrating on how it felt on each part of her body. After a few minutes she noticed that her tits were missing out, sheltered by her bra. She went back to her bedroom, took off the top and her bra, and tried again with her tits bare against the fabric.
Now she really started to get tingly. As she moved about she not only felt the tightness around her ass and the constant swishing against her calves, but a continuous caressing of the soft, smooth fabric against her nipples. She had been raised to wear a bra even under a tee shirt, and it was maddeningly sensual to feel her nipples constantly brushing against the nylon jersey top.
At this point she remembered Ginger's instructions not to wear anything underneath, so she did away with her panties. This produced a flood of new sensations. At first she noticed the feeling on her ass. She could feel the line of the seam running over each cheek of her ass, just the slightest tickling sensation, yet arousing. As she walked around she began to notice a similar feeling from her pussy. The seam in the crotch was cut short, and the elastic in the waistband was tight, which resulted in the fabric pulling gently up against her cunt. She checked in the mirror, and sure enough there was a slight dent between her legs, like she had seen when Ginger wore hers. She could even feel the selvage tickling the outer lips of her vagina.
By now she was very turned on, just as she had been when she had worn her mother's dress, and that pleated skirt of Ginger's. She kept moving about the house, delighting in the constant stimulation on every part of her body. She tried to imagine how she could stand wearing clothes like this out in public, and remembered how her mom had looked just now, going out in an outfit that must feel just a good. Then she thought of Ginger wearing the same outfit, and all the other women who would buy it. She wondered how many of them would get as turned on by it as she did.
She sat on the sofa and conjured up her fantasy of being at a party dressed this way. She saw herself as a sexy seductress, fanning the flames of passion burning in the crotches of the boys staring surreptitiously at her. She added the new found realization that she would be turned on as well by the feeling of the sensuous fabric all over her body. She began to ache for the touch of a boy's hand, eagerly caressing her.
She found herself stroking her thighs, trying to imagine how it would feel were a handsome young man doing it. She was surprised to find that running her fingernails over the fabric produced a tickling sensation, mild enough so that she did not want to stop, yet strong enough to be on the verge of unbearable. She began to image that her companion was intent on tickling her like this. She became very excited at the thought of being restrained, her hands tied behind her back, helpless, unable to make him stop and strangely not wanting him to.
She began caressing her breasts, imagining the she was still tied up, and that her lover was intent on tickling her sensitive breasts. Sitting there on the sofa she began to buck and toss her head back and forth, getting into the fantasy, imagining that were a boy to be tickling her the feelings would be much stronger. How much more? Could she stand it? She would have to cry out, even scream, begging him to stop. "No, no, please, I'll die. Ooooh stop, stop, I can't stand it."
As she imagined herself suffering so pleasantly by the hand of a young lover she moved her right hand to her crotch, leaving her left hand to continue tickling her right nipple. She began to tickle her crotch, stroking her nails up and down the seam between her legs, still imagining that her lover was tormenting her this way. The sensation was a mixture of ticking and sexual stimulation. She focused on the tickling, imagining that it would be much stronger, even unbearable, were her lover doing it instead of her own hand. Gradually she felt the warm glow of full sexual arousal spread from between her legs, joining with the overwhelming sensation of tickling.
She began to concentrate on the top of her vagina, and in a moment she could clearly feel the hard bump of her clit through the silky blue pants. Her body shuddered as wave after wave of sexual energy swept across her. She could feel that she was slowly and inexorably building to an orgasm. The little convulsions caused the silky pants to flutter across her calves, adding gentle stimulation. Having noticed that, she concentrated on the sensation and found that she could feel the fabric all over her body, caressing her like a thousand butterflies, enveloping her in a cocoon of pleasure. Against this soft background the feelings coming from her crotch became sharper and stronger.
She stood up, hoping that this would make the fabric move more over her skin, and was pleased to find that it did. Again she thought of herself being tied up and played with by a lover. That image combined with the powerful sensations coming from every square inch of her skin took her over the edge.
She felt as though a dam had burst as wave after wave of orgasmic convulsions swept through her. She fought hard not to cry out, but a moan or two slipped past her control. She collapsed on the sofa, drawing her knees up and laying on her side in a fetal position, both hands between her legs.
As the first large waves subsided she pressed again on her clit, not content to have it end. She felt the fire re-light, and again waves of pleasure swept across her. She lay still for a minute, panting, glowing with pleasure. Again she saw herself at the party, the focus of attention. She wanted to take each boy in turn and rub his cock on her shiny blue pants until they came, spurting come all over her. She wanted to be tied up, standing with legs spread wide and arms over her head, surrounded by a group of naked boys tickling her with their cocks. The tickling made her scream and laugh hysterically. Each boy would take a turn tickling her pussy, her most ticklish spot, until they came, she coming with each of them.
As she dreamt of her strange orgy she stood up from the sofa and walked to her room. There she stood again in front of her full length mirror and admired the sexy look of the outfit. She spread her feet about three feet apart and held her arms up over her head, trying to imagine how she would look to the boys playing with her. She began to run her nails over her clit again, wishing that there was a way she could do this and not use her hands. Suddenly she thought of the banister that led up to the front door.
That led to another thought. Her mother had an excellent collection of lingerie, and at times like this Lynn had tried wearing it, seeing how she looked covered with nothing but sheer nylon, hoping that it made sex even better.
She had been disappointed at how scratchy the sheer nylon had been, until she discovered that rubbing one layer over another at right angles produced a wonderfully slippery effect. The feeling on her clit had been quite intense, even painful, and she had found it hard to come that way, but it had been a terrific way to get turned on.
Now she wondered how it would feel to rub these pants against sheer nylon, and she knew that her mother had just the thing. Almost all panties were made with extra fabric in the crotch, usually cotton, or at best two layers of nylon. But her mother had a very sheer black nightgown with a matching g-string with a crotch made from a single layer of the same fabric, which would be perfect.
She went to her mother's closet and pulled out the nightgown, finding the panties hanging around the hook of the hanger. She pulled off her pants, slipped them on, and put the pants back on. She tried rubbing her cunt, but it didn't work. Then, on a whim, she tried it again with the panties inside out. This time the effect worked perfectly, the pants sliding over the sheer nylon like they were coated with vasoline.
Quickly she walked back into the living room, climbed a few steps and swung her left leg over the shiny, smooth varnished wood of the banister. She leaned forward and found that she could hold on with her hands pretty much up over her head while keeping her feet just barely on the step. If she bent over so far as to rest her chest on the banister her clit was raised too high, so she had to raise herself up a bit.
When she found the position that allowed the banister to press firmly on her vagina she began to slide up and down. In a moment she found that very little actual motion was necessary, just a shift in body weight fore and aft. A side to side motion worked too. The pants slid just enough over the sheer panties to produce a delicious little tingling feeling, as if she were using a tiny vibrator against her clit.
Now she could feel the fabric sliding across her legs much more than she could sitting on the sofa. Her breasts got more stimulation too, the nipples sliding back and forth across the sensuous fabric as her little tits jiggled with the motion of her body. Every nerve ending touched by the silky nylon jersey was receiving overpowering feelings of pleasure. She rocked gently up and down, back and forth, the cool fabric sliding constantly all over her body. She had never felt so much pleasure from her nipples. Minutes passed that felt like hours. Time seemed to be standing still. Her nipples were crying out for her to stop, yet she pretended to be bound and unable to make it stop. It was as if she were being tortured with pleasure. She thought about the initiation the night before, the agony she had suffered from those ice cold metal fingers. It would have been so much better to have been tied to that bar, unable to make it stop.
She was close to another orgasm, yet it would not come. She held on, keeping up her steady rhythm, grinding her pussy on the smooth wood banister as wave after wave of pleasure swept over her. It was very, very good. She wanted it to go on and on. She wanted to give herself up to it completely, to surrender to it, to let it completely overwhelm her.
Suddenly she decided that she wanted to feel as if she was tied to the banister. The thought sent chills through her. She got down, went to the kitchen, and brought back a piece of soft cotton rope that was stashed in the broom closet. She tied loops in each end for her wrists, then passed one end under the banister so it would be held in place by one of the posts when she pulled against it. Then she climbed back onto the banister, slipped her wrists into the loops, and started sliding up and down. She kept her gaze on the ropes, fantasizing that she was tied to the banister. This added a whole new level of pleasure to her game.
Despite the delicious pleasure she felt all over her body, Lynn felt the need to fantasize, as she usually did when she masturbated. She closed her eyes and set her mind free to roam through her collection of sensual scenarios.