The Mammoth Book of Women's Erotic Fantasies (47 page)

Violet (Vancouver, Canada)

Thanks to an ultra-strict upbringing, and the fact that I still live at home, what little sex life I have takes place mostly inside my head. I’ve got a vivid imagination,
and it serves me well on long, cold, lonely winter nights – any nights, and most every day, for that matter.

Since I don’t go out a lot, I don’t meet a lot of people outside of work, so it’s the people at work that I usually fantasize about, along with movie, TV, and pop stars, of
course. And the only woman I’ve ever kissed in my life was my grandmother, and the only woman’s legs I’ve ever caressed have been my own, but that doesn’t stop my dirty
little mind from percolating with naughty thoughts about wild lesbian sex – lesbian leg sex, no less – with my gorgeous boss.

Laura Danton is the head of the project team I’m currently assigned to. She’s a cool, uber-professional blonde babe with a slim, sleek figure which she always keeps tightly wrapped
in the latest and most expensive fashions. She’s a great boss to work for, if a little distant with new employees like myself, but it’s her long, slender, stocking-clad legs that flow
out of her dangerously short skirts like shimmering black or white twin waterfalls that really make me admire, and mentally seduce, her.

I lie back in my warm bed, or hot bath, and touch myself all over, thinking about Laura and me working late one night, when I just happen to notice a run in her silky, shiny, shadow-black
stockings . . .

She’d just propped her ballerina legs up on her gleaming desktop and crossed them, and right away my leg-sensitive eye picked out the one inch breach in the sheer, black
stocking on her right leg. The tiny tear exposed a small section of her brown, lightly muscled calf. I gulped and stared fixedly at those tawny legs, at that wicked violation in the structural
integrity of her sexy leg coverings. Thoughts of work sailed out of my dizzy head and thoughts of making love to those luscious limbs cascaded in.

She looked at me as I gazed blankly at her entwined, silk-sheathed legs. “Is there a problem, Violet?” she asked.

I blinked several times in an effort to clear my foggy brain, and my lustful leg musings partially dissipated. I crossed my own legs and gladly felt a well-known wetness. “Huh? Oh, no, Ms
Danton. I was just thinking about something, that’s all. Sorry.” I stared down at the files that were strewn all over the table I was working at, my face flaming red.

“Laura,” Ms Danton said.

I looked up. “Huh?”

“Laura. Call me Laura. ‘Ms Danton’ makes me feel like I’m a thousand years old, when I’m only twenty or so years older than you are,” she remarked with a
smile.

“Uh, okay, sure, Ms – Laura.” My eyes froze again on that winking rent in her night-shaded stocking. I could almost feel and taste the warm, firm, sun-kissed flesh that lay
exposed by that heavenly tear.

“You sure there isn’t anything wrong, Violet?” Laura asked again, her azure eyes boring into mine.

I glanced back and forth between her graceful, folded legs – that erotic run in her shimmering stocking – and her beautiful, quizzical face. She was wearing a flawless, pearl-white,
silk top and a short, black-leather skirt, and, of course, those shiny, noir leg-wraps. Her black stilettos lay discarded somewhere beneath her desk.

“Well?”

I sucked some humid air into my overwrought lungs, fought to steady my spinning head, and decided to make my move. Coming on to your boss is a perilous, potentially career-ending manoeuvre at
the best of times, even more so when you’re not even sure that she shares your affinity for girls, as well as boys; but Laura’s gorgeous legs were driving me crazy, and I just had to
find out if I could possess their lithesome beauty or not. So, I stood up and walked slowly and shakily over to her desk.

“Urn, yeah . . . Laura,” I mumbled, “there is something wrong. Y – you’ve got a run in your stocking.” And I reached out a trembling digit and touched her
bare skin. Her leg jerked, then quivered slightly as I ran my slender finger back and forth along the sliver of bronzed flesh that had been exposed by the break in her inky stocking.

She bit her lip. “D – do I?” she stammered, making it the first time that I’d ever seen the in-control career woman flustered.

That made two of us. But I knew what I wanted, and although I’m only nineteen years old, I’m not shy about going after something I want – till I get it. I gently caressed
Laura’s smooth skin, brought a second finger into play so that I was blatantly fondling a small portion of her slim leg.

“You sure do,” I breathed in answer to her rhetorical question. “And I think it’s getting bigger.” I pushed against the clingy edges of the small tear with my
twitching fingers, expanding it, exposing and stroking more and more of her naked, sun-burnished leg flesh.

She gasped, and her eyelids dropped down to shade her sky-blue eyes as I reverentially rubbed her calf with my long fingers. Her legs shook and grew goosebumps, and as I stared meaningfully at
her, my bold digits working their erotic magic on her to-die-for legs, I saw her nipples flower to arousal and indent the thin material of her top.

Yes! The oh-so-hot, yet outwardly oh-so-cool, mature babe was getting as turned on as I was. She licked her glossy lips with a pink, kittenish tongue, and let her appraising eyes wander up and
down my girlish figure, before refocusing on what was truly important – my fingers and her leg. I swallowed hard and pushed my whole hand through the opening in her ravaged stocking, rested
it on her sublime leg and squeezed.

“Yes, Violet,” she murmured, dropping the file she’d been holding and cupping and kneading her firm tits, discarding all pretence that we could ever keep things on a strictly
professional basis from here on out. There were some things even more important than business, after all.

“Yes, Laura,” I agreed, and savagely grabbed up and tore the shiny fabric of her stocking with both my hands, ripping it until it lay shredded from ankle to skirt. I wasn’t
holding anything back; I wanted those seductive, golden legs in my hands and mouth – now!

“I want to suck your toes!” I yelled, my soft hands sliding all over her brown skin, caressing and fondling her glistening limb.

She was taken aback by my towering need. “Uh, well, Violet, I’m, uh, expecting my boyfriend anytime soon. He was –”

“Fuck your boyfriend!” I shouted.

She stared wide-eyed at me, then hastily nodded her head. She pulled her legs away from me, swung them off the desk and onto the carpet, then stood up and quickly unbuttoned and shrugged off her
blouse, unzipped her skirt and let it puddle at her stockinged feet. Then she unhooked and tossed aside her satiny, white bra and stood there a moment, letting me admire her nude, sun-buffed upper
body, her firm, ripe boobs and jutting, mocha nipples. There was just one problem: her luscious legs were now hidden behind her desk.

“I want your feet and legs!” I demanded, like a petulant school girl, my pussy going from damp to drenched.

She cleared papers and business bric-a-brac off her huge desk with a couple of wild swipes of her arm, climbed on top, and then slid down into a sitting position on the very edge of the massive
slab of varnished wood, facing me, her dangling, dancer’s legs only inches away. I quickly gripped her fleshy thighs and pushed her legs open, inserted my overheated body in between the
gorgeous pair of them. Then I brushed her lips with my lips, and she responded, and we kissed urgently, hungrily.

I mashed my mouth against hers, as I ran my joyous hands up and down her slick, stocking-clad thighs, reveling in the silky, sexy feel of her sensual leg wear. She grabbed my head and riffled
her fingers through my short, orange-streaked, black hair, and we Frenched each other, our tongues swirling together angrily, frenziedly slapping against one another.

I pulled my head back and dropped to my knees in front of her – in front of her legs. I knelt at her feet like pagans kneel before golden idols, encircled her shapely ankles with my
fingers, brought her delicately arched peds together, and began kissing and licking them.

“God, yes!” she moaned, clutching her pert titties and squeezing them, rolling her plump nipples as I licked at the bottom of her stockinged feet.

I dragged my tongue along an erotic course from her heel, up her arch, and into her toes, again and again, first one foot and then the other. I held on tight to her trembling legs, her jumping
feet, and stroked her ultra-sensitive soles with my incessant pink tongue. Then, when the bottom of her succulent feet were painted all nice and wet with my hot saliva, stocking and skin, I tilted
her feet towards me and went to work on her silk-sheathed toes.

“God, that feels good,” she whimpered, sliding a hand down into her tiny, white panties. She started fingering herself, frantically polishing her flowered clit.

I made it tough for her, kept her legs together by pressing her feet together, but she still managed to buff her swollen nub with one hand while she groped her boobs with the other. I licked all
over and around her slender, wriggling toes, before sucking them into my mouth. I gobbled up all of the toes of her right foot and tugged on them, slashing my tongue across the vulnerable underside
of her foot-digits as I sucked and sucked on them, anxiously crammed as much of her exquisite foot as I could into my mouth.

“Suck on my toes, Violet!” she screamed, her long, blonde tresses falling across her lust-contorted face like a shimmering curtain, as she desperately rubbed her engorged clit and
plucked at her hardened nipples.

I disgorged her right foot and swallowed up the toes of her left, redoubled my erotic foot-in-mouth massage. I pulled on her toes, tongue-lashed and slathered them with spit, greedily sucked on
them through the saliva-clotted material of her shining, black stockings. Then I unmouthed her left foot and pushed both of her feet together, sole to sole, and ran my thick tongue up and down the
twin rows of wiggling toes, gleefully lapping at all of her outstretched toes at once, up and down, up and down, over and over.

“I’m coming!” she cried, her hand shifting to hyper-speed in her panties. Her head lolled back on her shoulders and she screamed with all-out release.

I quickly twisted her feet around and jammed both of her big toes into my gaping maw. Her streamlined, built-for-sex body was jolted with orgasm, and her supple, delicate legs and feet jerked
around in my loving hands as I desperately sucked on the two largest of her beautiful toes.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a man suddenly burst into the woman-scented office and raced over to Laura and me. His long, hard cock jutted out of his unzipped pants, and before I could even
react, he started fisting thick ropes of white-hot semen out of his raging dick and down onto Laura’s drenched feet – and my face.

“Yes! Come all over my feet, baby!” Laura yelled at him, her body still undulating with the aftershocks of orgasm.

The spurting guy was obviously Laura’s boyfriend – the one she’d mentioned earlier, just before I attacked her legs – so I didn’t pull away from her sodden feet as
he coated them with jism. Instead, I continued to suck on her toes, her anguished boyfriend spraying his molten man-juice all over them and me.

“Lick the come off my feet, Violet!” Laura commanded, grabbing her boyfriend’s straining cock and stroking it madly, jacking the last few bursts of heated jizz onto her
delightful feet.

I swirled my tongue all over the tops of her stockinged feet, eagerly lapping up her boyfriend’s simmering goo. I tasted the salty spooge and swallowed it down, not satisfied until
Laura’s pretty feet were one hundred percent sperm-free. Then I smacked my saucy lips and smiled up at them, my hands squeezing and kneading Laura’s lovely feet.

“Hi, I’m Eric,” Laura’s boyfriend said by way of formal introduction, then tacked on the understatement of the year: “You like feet?”

I nodded. I fucking loved feet, and would’ve loved legs – Laura’s lush legs – if Eric hadn’t interrupted our girlish fun. Still, I wasn’t about to complain.
Eric was a tall, muscular, good-looking guy of around forty, with curly, salt and pepper hair and a handsome, seven-inch prick that was still hanging hard out of his open fly. I smiled impishly at
him and pondered the sexual possibilities.

“How ‘bout cock?” he asked.

I stared into his warm, brown eyes and replied, “Sure I like cock – in my cunt.”

And before you could spell “menage a trois”, Eric was out of his duds and Laura out of her torn, dripping stockings and drenched panties. They stood nude and lewd right in front of
me, and then passionately kissed each other, Laura working Eric’s rod with her hand while Eric squeezed my boss’s tits.

I scrambled to my feet, anxious to join in the sexual fray, and they helped me out of my dress, out of my matching lacy, black bra and panties. I’m built along Laura’s lines: trim
and tight, but paler by comparison, with slightly smaller titties that are capped by stiff, ultra-pink nipples. My cunny is shaved bare and smooth as a baby’s bottom, except for a tuft of
soft, black fur right at the top. My taut, heart-shaped arse never fails to get compliments, and such was the case here, as Eric and Laura grabbed a butt cheek apiece and squeezed and fondled my
bum, as we all leaned in and three-way Frenched. We recklessly twirled our tongues together, the lusty couple feeling up my hot, tight butt. Then I squealed into both of their mouths when I felt
someone’s finger slide down my crack and into my cunny.

“Violet got us off,” Eric remarked to Laura, “so I think it’s only fair that we get her off.”

“I agree,” Laura responded, smiling slyly at me.”I’ve got a confession to make, Violet. Eric’s actually been hanging around the office for the past two hours,
patiently waiting to witness your wicked little foot seduction. He watched the whole thing from the door.” She ran her silver-tinted fingernails up and down my bottom. “You see,
I’ve been watching you watching my legs with your tongue hanging out for the last couple of weeks. So, I thought I’d keep you late tonight, cut a small slit in my stocking – give
you an opening, so to speak – and then Eric and I would see what developed.”