Lani had spent all day looking at cashmere samples, running her fingers through the soft fabric, thrilling to the touch of it on her skin. She was an assistant fashion designer in the studio of Henri Bechet, at one of the top design firms in Manhattan. It was her dream job, because she had what could only be called a lust for fabric. As long as she could remember she'd had this primal need to feel different textures on her skin, and it had only gotten stronger with time. Cashmere, corduroy, denim, silk, satin -- every fabric had its own special thrill.
She had studied design in school and she had some talent as an artist, but her true gift was for picking fabrics. After a period as a wage slave at various clothing companies, she had caught the eye of Henri Bechet when he noticed her ranting at a fashion show about the poor quality of Llama wool in that year's sweaters. "Anyone who has that much passion for wool is somebody I want working for me," he'd said, and hired her on the spot.
It was such a heavenly, sensual experience for her that there were times when she actually got sexually excited from touching fabrics all day. Her skin was hot and flushed, and she felt dampness between her legs.
Today was one of those days. The cashmere she'd been working with had felt so soft and warm that by the end of the day she felt like she was on the verge of an orgasm. Maybe that's why she had said yes when Paul Mason, a guy from the IT department who worked nearby, popped his head in her office and asked her out to dinner.
He was a little rough around the edges -- he did carpentry on the weekends and seemed like more of a construction worker than anything else -- and was not the kind of guy she usually went out with. She had agreed to two other dates with him, though, and he was an okay guy to go out with for drinks and a modest dinner at an after-work bar. He was not particularly attractive normally, but she was so excited right now that even Paul Mason looked good.
She was wearing black fishnet stockings, a black leather skirt, pink satin panties that fit her like a second skin, and a chunky red sweater that felt soft and fluffy next to her skin. Paul had an ill-fitting gray suit on, and it looked like the collar of his shirt was too tight. It was a shame that men had such a limited palette of fabrics to wear against their skin. He had dark hair and a stubbly beard, and as he sat across the table from her, she decided he was a bit geeky and probably not very good in bed.
She had a few glasses of wine to calm her nerves, and after a time she softened her attitude toward Paul. He was kind of cute in a geeky way, she thought. She crossed and recrossed her legs under the table, and the feel of the fishnet against her smooth thighs was making her excited.
And then it happened. They were sitting in a back corner of the dimly lit bar, and Paul reached under the table and ran his thick, calloused fingers up Lani's leg. Her eyes fluttered. She hadn't expected such a brazen touch. She hardly knew him, after all. She thought about slapping his face, but something about his rough but tender fingertips on her leg stopped her.
It was naughty and nice at the same time. She knew she should at least reach down and push his hand away, but somehow she couldn't do it. Paul slid his fingers further up her thigh and beneath the leather skirt. Her skin tingled beneath his touch. Lani felt her heart beating faster. The combination of his rough fingers and the stretchy fabric of the fishnet were having an unexpected effect on her. She didn't know what had gotten into him -- he didn't seem this bold in the office.
His fingers were almost at the edge of her panties, and she was just about to grab his hand to make him stop, when he suddenly pulled his hand away. The loss Lani felt was immediate, and there was a part of her that wanted to pull his hand back and guide it even further up her leg.
She looked at him and was shocked by the desire she saw there. It was obvious he wanted her. He had said nothing this whole time, and still he did not speak. Lani took another sip of her wine to calm herself, but her skin burned for more of his touch. She shook her head to clear it. He was still staring at her, smiling boldly, as if he was not ashamed at all of what he'd just done. What was happening here? Lani took another long swig of her drink and decided to blame the wine.
"No more wine," he said gently. "I don't want you to forget yourself and do something you don't intend."
His voice was thick with desire. Lani only nodded. She was afraid her own voice would give away her own want. She didn't quite understand it. She'd never been attracted Paul. They'd been on dates and she'd never once had a craving for him to touch her. For all intents, nothing about tonight was different from any other night. Yet, she wanted him.
They had just received their main course, but Paul asked the waitress for the check. He didn't ask her if she wanted to leave; it was obvious he was just as heated up as Lani, and he wanted to do something about it fast.
"Come on," he said, after paying the bill. He put his arm around her and they left the restaurant quietly. Out on the street, he said, "Let's go to your place."
Her place was only four stops away on the subway. She led the way down the steps to the subway, and they crowded into the train that was waiting in the station. There were no seats available so they stood, and Paul was pressed against her by the crowd. She had never really noticed his broad shoulders and thick arms until now. His rough hands were gripping the pole right in front of her, and she noticed the calluses on them.
She wanted him. Lani bit her bottom lip trying to imagine the precise moment that this had turned into such a strong need. When did she get this obsession, this need to touch him and feel his skin, his hair, his muscles? When the train screeched to a stop she led him up to the street level, then they walked the block to her apartment building in silence, both aware of the burning need that compelled them forward.
"Wait here," she said, when they got to the door of her apartment. She opened the door and left him standing in the hallway. Inside, she slipped off her skirt and heels and stood in front of the mirror behind the door, looking at herself in the red sweater that came down only to the middle of her hips, her pink panties showing underneath the fishnet stockings. She ran her feet across the thick carpet, reveling in the sound it made, the feel of it on her feet.
She moaned softly and put her hand on top of the sweater, caressing her nipples, luxuriating in the feel of the fabric on her hard nipples. She squeezed them as hard as she could stand. Her body responded in kind. The delicate lips of her pussy started to moisten with desire.
There was a knock on her door. Lani smiled and winked at herself in the mirror before walking to the door. She dragged her fingers across the coarse design element of the walls as she made her way. Through the peephole she saw a nervous Paul shuffling his feet as he waited for her to open the door. She exhaled deeply; still unable to believe she was actually doing this.
She unfastened the lock to let him in. Lani took a step back and he entered the room, closing the door behind him. Lani turned to lead him back to her bedroom. Paul had other plans, though. He pulled her by her waist until her body was flush with his. He kissed her roughly, greedily. Lani moaned as she responded to his forcefulness, arching her back as he cupped her breast in his hand. His other hand stroked her bare neck, and the callouses on his hand sent shivers down her satiny skin.
Paul pulled away from her lips and kissed her neck and her ear. He nipped at the smooth curve of her shoulder. Lani shuddered. She pushed her fingers through his thick, coarse curls. He reached down and began to stroke her thighs. The feel of his fingers against her fishnet covered legs was so heavenly, and she closed her eyes. Her skin started to tingle, the same way it had in the restaurant. Paul kissed her again, probing further with his tongue. He cupped her round ass cheeks and pulled her closer.
Lani inhaled slowly as Paul's warm breath danced across her exposed flesh. The holes of her fishnet stockings gave him just enough access to tease. Now, as she leaned back against the wall, he moved down to her legs, and then he was behind her, licking the curve of her ass with his rough but tender tongue. Lani braced herself against the wall in front, and pushed her ass down hard as Paul explored her with his tongue. He flicked his tongue against her ass before using his teeth to tear a hole in her fishnet stockings. Lani was torn between being upset about losing her favorite pair of stockings and the nearly overwhelming arousal she was experiencing.
.... There is more of this story ...