Chapter 3

I lay on the bed in my mother’s bedroom; she had likely forgotten that I still had a key to her apartment and the silly woman hadn’t changed the code on the burglar alarm. I was naked except for the pair of Pant-E-Hose that my mother had discarded in her office.

I loved the feel of the cool, silky nylon on my shaved legs and the tight sheer panty clung to my buttocks and scrotum. The stink of my mother’s vaginal secretions wafted to my nose, providing more stimulation and I lazily stroked my cock through the translucent material.

It was on this bed, not that many months ago, that mother had caught me just like this. I was wearing her pantyhose and also a pair of her lustrous, shiny panties, I was humping her satin pillow as I sniffed the crotch of a pair of her knickers that I had taken from the washing basket.

I had developed a penchant for women’s legs clad in nylon as I entered adolescence and as I was not really the rugged outdoor type, I spent most of time at home. Even as I turned eighteen and became an adult I lived at home, dad was always away overseas and mom was devoted to work leaving me the house to myself between classes at university, most which I skipping and pretty much flunking anyway.

I was a disappointment to my mother and my father didn’t really care what I did.

But when mom was around she always wore sheer pantyhose or sometimes stockings and I hung around her like a cat under her feet, always looking for an opportunity to touch those luscious nylon-clad legs or peek under her skirt.

I overheard mom talking to one of her girlfriends over a glass of wine in the kitchen during one of her many social gatherings. She was lamenting the decline of women wearing hosiery.

“Bare legs do not look professional,” Bethany espoused to her friend.

“And some of those pale, scabby limbs need all the help they can get,” her friend replied, gushing on Bethany’s every word.

“Now that Kate Middleton and Meghan Markle have made pantyhose and sheer tights popular again; the trend towards ladies wearing sheer hose seems to be on the up,” Bethany sniffed and sipped her wine.

“I apply the ‘Three B’ rule. The only time I don’t wear nylons is at the beach, in the bath or in bed. Though there a quite a few times I do wear them to bed,” mother patted her friend on the shoulder and gave her a knowing wink.

Mother was working hard and often fell asleep on the lounge, having usually quaffed several glasses of wine, which meant she was pretty much comatose.

She would lie there fully clothed having just kicked off her heels and I would take advantage of her.

I’d take her stockinged feet in my hands and caress them and then take them in my mouth, sucking her nyloned toes and stroking my hardening cock. Then I’d free my cock from my pyjamas and press her feet together and fuck that glorious translucent tunnel, ejaculating on her toes and arches. I’d wipe away the evidence with a moistened face cloth.

Another favourite activity was to stroke those long, elegant, nylon-sheathed legs all the way up to her thighs. I’d rub my cheeks on them and push my face under her skirt and sniff her cunt through her pantyhose and panties. I’d rub my penis along her legs and if she was lying in a position that allowed me to do so, I’d straddle her and rub my cock on her panty-enclosed mound, taking care not to ejaculate there.

I don’t know if mother ever suspected that I carried out these lecherous and immoral violations on her sleeping personage but I do know that she knew about my penchant for masturbating with her lingerie and hosiery.

I’d sneak into her bathroom and take a pair of worn pantyhose and slide a leg of the translucent material over my cock and then wrap my hand in a pair of her panties and slowly wank myself. As my pleasure built and with gratification approaching, I’d place the gusset of another pair of her soiled panties or pantyhose against my nose and breathe in her pungent elixir.

The double layer of nylon and satin on my cock would feel rapturous and my phallus would pulse and quiver as my orgasm approached. Any inclination to be cautious or discreet would be washed away by the sensations of my mothers stockings rubbing on my cock and the scent of her cunt.

I would squirt copious amounts of semen into my mother’s undergarments as my orgasm rippled through my body. I would often fall to my knees trembling with the delectation of the feelings coursing through my senses.

Of course mother soon found out.

It was my understanding that she chose to ignore my fascination with her hosiery and knickers, deciding it was a harmless fetish, the consequences of which were easily dealt with by laundering the offending items or throwing them out and buying replacements.

Then one day she burst into my bedroom quite furious.

“Stop wanking off into my pantyhose and knickers for god sake! Buy your own or at least wash mine if you have to use them you perverted young man!” she threw a pair of semen-stained pantyhose at me that I had accidentally laddered whilst masturbating with them.

But my fetish could not be suppressed nor denied and I moved my predilection for and obsession with wearing her pantyhose and masturbating to her bed. There I could still smell her perfume and the scent of her body while I humped a pillow and sniffed her panties imagining it was her; it was almost inevitable that I would get caught.

When I did these unspeakable acts on her bed, I became more brazen and less circumspect. I would forget to straighten the bedclothes properly or I’d leave an intimate item behind, and sometimes, because I was so excited, my emissions would stain the bed covers.

And of course one day she came home early and found me taking my pleasure on her bed, clad in her pantyhose and panties, humping her pillow.

“You fucking degenerate freak!” she screamed at me.

Her temper was unbridled and although I was a lithe eighteen-year-old boy, her anger and vehemence gave her the energy to overpower me. She dragged me to the edge of the bed and wielded me into her lap.

“You wanna behave like a fucking naughty schoolboy then I’ll treat you like one!” she shrieked and bought her palm down on my buttocks.

Mother proceeded to pull down my panties and spank me vigorously; my buttocks began to flush bright red through the sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose gusset.

“Take that you pervert!” she yelled as she lathered by bottom

At first the surprise and the pain was shocking. But I soon began to enjoy the feel of my pantyhose-encased cock rubbing on my mother’s thighs as she spanked me. I wriggled and writhed as I took my spanking, pretending that it was pain causing me to do so, when in fact I was rubbing my cock on mom’s luscious thighs.

Mother’s hand smacking my nyloned buttocks produced a decadent masochistic burning which complemented the licentious feel of my silken hosed cock rubbing on my mother’s plump diaphanous-sheathed thighs.

Mother screamed when I orgasmed. She felt my scalding ejaculate soak through my pantyhose gusset and drench her nylons; the creamy substance smeared her thighs. Her response was to spank me harder, which only caused me to squirt more hot jism onto her legs. I ejaculated so much semen that it ran down her thighs, under her knees and down her calves, saturating her nylons.

“Ahh! Oh my god! You fucking pig!” mother pushed me off her and I fell to the floor.

“You fucking degenerate animal!” she kicked me; the toe of her high heel digging into my ribs.

“Get the fuck out of this house you disgusting pervert!” she shrieked, kicking me across the floor.

And that was that. I was whisked off to a university flophouse and provided with a meagre stipend on which to live. I don’t know what she told my father, obviously not the truth.

That was the last time I was allowed to see my mother on her own until I deceived her into coming to the coffeehouse.

During the interim I had dropped in and out of various university courses, but applied computer sciences had been my forte. I had used those learned skills twice to my satisfaction and I intended to do so again today.

I looked at the video of me humping away at Bethany in her office on my iPhone. I had edited the video impeccably and there was no indication that Bethany was anything other than a willing participant.

I smiled as I heard the key in the lock at the front door then the click clack of my mother’s high heels on the stairs. The door creaked a little when she opened it.

“Jesus Nathan you scared the shit out of me!” she grumbled.

“Did you break in to hump my pillows again,” she said sarcastically.

“What’s it to be this time? You want me to wank you off? Wanna fuck my legs? Want more cash?” she sounded resigned.

She kicked off her shoes and walked over to the small refrigerator in the corner of the bedroom and poured herself a wine. She didn’t even comment on the fact that I was naked except for the Pant-e-Hose I was wearing.

“I’ll have one too mom and then come over here. I want to show you something,” I said.

Mother shrugged and poured two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc and padded back to the bed. She perched on the edge of the bed well away from me and offered me the wine in her outstretched hand.

I chuckled and took the wine and offered her my iPhone.

“Just press play,” I said as I sipped the cold crisp wine.

She looked at the screen; her demeanour quite acquiescent.

“Well at least the money I’m paying for your education has been put to some sort of use; even if it is only to blackmail me,” she sighed.

“Don’t be like that mommy,” I gently took the glass from her hand and placed it on the nightstand next to mine.

Mother didn’t react at all when I kissed her; crushing my lips against hers. She let me slip my tongue into her mouth but remained subservient and did not respond to my kisses. I slid my hand along her thigh and under her skirt, stroking her sheer pantyhose, finding sleek satin panties over her pantyhose gusset.

She flinched when my fingers found her mound but offered no resistance other than a detached and indifferent sigh. It was like playing with a rag doll.

I lowered my mother onto the bed, placing her head on the pillows. I opened her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse and she just lay there, docile and compliant.

When I removed a creamy white globe from her brassiere and tweaked the nipple it hardened and mother flinched slightly. I lowered my mouth to it and sucked on her teat, teasing her other breast with my fingers. I could hear her heartbeat pounding in her cheat and smell her perfume. I snuggled up to her and alternately suckled her breasts or kissed her yielding red-lipsticked lips.

Mother’s breathing became laboured as I allowed my hand begin to explore her body. I stroked her legs, starting at her ankles and working my way up to her thighs. I straddled her and began to tongue her feet, sucking on her nylon-encased toes and then her calves and finally her pantyhose thighs. When I lifted her skirt up out of the way she sighed but didn’t move and I gazed at her shiny white satin panties, complemented by the dark coffee-coloured pantyhose gusset.

I lapped at her pubis through the gossamer layers of her panties and pantyhose and she shuddered. I smiled. I knew that my mother wouldn’t be able to resist my ministrations much longer. I lapped at her pungent labia, the scent of her perfume mingled with the bouquet of her vaginal secretions. The gussets of her nylons and her knickers began to moisten with her juices. I eased aside the crotch of her panties.