The Desire of Wearing Hosiery 2

Yesterday I wanted to go shopping looking for a spring skirt and a low neck blouse binding together. Moreover, I wanted to wear high heels that coordinated the feet and the long streamlined legs. I also wanted the skirt to be simple, knee high, without too many frills. I saw a very pretty red skirt in the display window that quickly attracted my attention. It was just the right length, very simple shape, and had a unique charm: a slanting cut that made it completely detailed.

I entered the store and asked the store clerk if I could try it. I got it on and it was simply perfect! I had a pair of sheer black crotchless pantyhose similar to stockings with a garter: they had a great opening on the zone of the buttocks and crotch area. I loved those pantyhose, because they made to feel very feminine even if this was not visible by walking normally. I knew alone, but this was enough for me: I adored feeling the coolness of the air that caressed my intimate parts, like a forbidden and hidden game. The red skirt slipped on my pantyhose like a feather on silk, and made my legs even more sensual and graceful. The skirt had a slanting cut, on the shorter side and was made to catch a glimpse in the opening of the pantyhose and a border of my candid skin.

In the store I also found the splendid cut high heels, I had wished to buy. I obviously tried them on too, in order to understand the end effect. They appealed to me and I appealed to myself. If you had been a man you probably would have been excited to that sight! I bought the skirt and the shoes and proudly went out of the store. As soon as I returned to my house I quickly changed and put the new skirt and shoes on to see my new and splendid form once again. The red material still slipped on my legs, caressing them in a light and secretive way, while above the high heels I could admire my very round thighs.

I was about to slip on my jeans that I was wearing previously, when I stopped in front of the mirror. I turned around, giving the shoulders to that smooth and sincere surface, and suddenly I bent down, slowly, with delicate and incredibly sensual gestures, to the limit of the erotic. The buttocks remained high, in the air, while I lowered my head and the rest of the body, like I was picking up something from the floor. I looked towards the mirror and saw an unbelievable scene: the red skirt was completely raised, catching a glimpse those crotchless open pantyhose, revealing part of my sex, running along my reduced g-string. Still a moment of that vision, and then I recomposed myself. Goodness knows what effect I will make to my man the next time I bend down? I hope that he likes the pantyhose like I do.