Short fiction by Worzel
© 2018, all rights reserved
Poppy’s Mom taught her what it was like to feel very sexy dressing to please herself and the man she loved, in perfect nylon lingerie - chemises, slips, petticoats, suspenders, knickers, stockings and camisoles. Every delicate lacy, silky garment she bought and slipped into made her heart race - a slip, so delicate and so pretty that all her senses would be heightened. Pantie and petticoat nylon felt so silky, so erotic , and, being a girl, she knew that she could wear this precious silky-ness forever. Tony and his sister had also learnt from a beautiful mother the allure of astonishingly feminine lingerie. Poppy’s and Tony’s courtship and sex-play had been wonderful, often with Poppy wearing seductive layers of nylon undies, glistening, sheer and achingly beautiful with lace; but their sex always stopped short of full intimacy.
Church and the wedding breakfast were over and Poppy was in their hotel room, alone and with plenty of time to spare, dressing to ‘go away.’ She had showered and stood in the prettiest lacy suspender belt and beautiful lace-topped ivory stockings. The half-slip petticoat she had worn under her wedding dress had been three layers of the silkiest softest white nylon chiffon, ending in masses of lace and worn with a delicate girly camisole. Instead now, she put on a new ivory full-circle full slip of two layers, each of divine sexy silky sheer nylon, ending in three-inch hems of the prettiest delicate flowery lace; her French knickers matched. She didn’t know how Tony would control himself when he saw them.
Poppy made the amazing petticoat flare out. The glistening nylon and lace were just so sexy. During their courtship, Poppy’s and Tony’s excited sex-play would often lead to her spreading the delicious multi-layer nylon nightgown or petticoat she was wearing over him as she mounted him. As they kissed and played with one another, he would eventually lose control and come into her petticoats. They both adored petticoat sex.
Walking back now through the corridors to meet Tony, she felt the wonderful friction of her lace-edged French knickers bristling under sublime silky soft petticoats. Every heightened sensation made her think of Tony. With her stiletto-heeled stride, her suspenders pulled taught against her stockings. Her nipples pushed sensuously against the very visible lacy bra she wore under her sheer silky shirt. The feeling of her petticoat under her dress was almost indescribable, the astonishing silkiness of the two layers of nylon under the silk, moved with each stride, was a wonderful erotic feeling, so sexy.That evening, driving to their hotel, Poppy was so excited. Tony whispered, ‘I don’t suppose you’re wearing a new petticoat by any chance?’ He smiled at her and she eased the lavish silk of her skirt back far enough for him to see the delicate feminine lace. He brushed a layer of lace over a layer of nylon and said, ‘Wow! Silky! Lacy.’ Then he added, ‘You know the words you sometimes say to me when we’re making love? Words like “Petticoat!” and “sexy silky nylon” and “I bought this lacy slip just to seduce you”? Don’t ever stop doing that!’
That night, their lovemaking was so, so gentle. At first, she wore her full
slip, the ribbon straps pulled down over her arms as she sat astride him on a
chair and the wonderful full-circle of so-silky double nylon spread across his
lap. He sucked her nipples progressively as this beautiful woman in her utterly
girly lingerie moved more and more erotically over him. Then, just as she was
about to come, he plunged himself into her. When they both yelled out their
first climax, she cried out, ‘Oh, fuck me up my lacy petticoat!’ and he almost
fainted with utter pleasure and satisfaction.
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