A lingerie junky
It's the feel, I think, more than the appearance. Yes I'm interested in how they look, but I am more interested in the touch. Sure, the cut, the style, how much is covered and how much is revealed are important, but nowhere near as much as the sensations I receive. I get so aroused by simply holding the garment in my hands that sometimes it's nearly impossible for me to put it down. The feel of the material on my fingertips does so much to me that often I have to masturbate to relieve the sexual tension sufficiently for me to get dressed.
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Yes sexy lingerie is my thing, my interest and my fetish. I am a silk and lace addict, a lingerie junky, a knicker chick.
I spend hours in lingerie, or as I have noted they're called in the US intimate apparel departments. I buy loads, far more than I could ever wear to go out, but then I don't need to go out for I have my own fashion shows. A marvellous evening for me is a bottle of dry white wine, a full length mirror in front and behind me and a pile of new undies to try on. That can make me masturbate several times in that evening.
I have a huge collection. Whilst I do have some pastel and dark coloured stuff, most is black or white, the basic colours, the colours that lingerie should be I think. I adore both. I can handle the occasional pale yellow, oyster or pink, now and then dark blue and perhaps burgundy, but not browns and greens, light blue, orange or red. Colour is important. I have a fairly pale skin, but as I have several sun holidays a year I usually have a tan and then the freckles on my chest, shoulders, back and boobs are very obvious. Black and white sets them and my tan off wonderfully.
Firstly bras. They are not as significant a fetish to me as panties, which are the pinnacle of a knicker chick's fascination.
I don't have big boobs and frankly I could easily dispense with wearing a bra, but they are sexy. I like them to be see-through, white or black of course and made of a thin material similar to the nylon of stockings. The feel as I ease my boobs into the cups of such a bra is wonderful. The sensation as the material moulds itself to each mound excites me and the pressure on each boob as I do the clip up is delightful.
I tend to choose bras that dissect each breast quite acutely and, just about, cover each of my coral pink, not very large areola. I also like, but find uncomfortable, front fastening bras, although to stand in front of a lover and unclip the bra between my tits is a major turn on.
Dressing, I will sometimes put my bra on first. Naked apart from the black or white, see through bra that gives a modicum of support, but hides nothing I look at myself in the mirror. Naturally my nipples will have hardened and equally naturally they will make indentations in the gossamer thin cups. They will look good, appealing, attractive and inviting so that generally I'll touch them, maybe even pinch them, that is such a fabulous feeling.
To help you paint a picture I guess I should describe myself.
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I'm now coming up for twenty and I am uni half way through my second year at uni where I am studying English and Psychology? I am often told I look young for my age and a couple of times I have been called a l****a! I'm five feet seven inches tall and a little bit and I'm a natural brunette. I am told I'm pretty. I have a neat figure that's curvy in the right places, but I am a little bit short in the tits area being essentially an A cup, but I k** myself I am a B. Whilst tits may a little lacking I make up for with my ass, which I am told is my best asset. I weigh around one hundred and twenty two pounds, about eight and a half stone in UK currency.
*
"I think we'll keep these on," called Oliver Hopkins my English lecturer at university, said, referring to the white, French knickers I was wearing specially for him. Well for me as well of course as even at uni I was becoming a knicker chick.
We'd been to the university ball, not together of course, that was frowned upon. But lecturers and students could dance together and we had managed just enough to get us through the evening until I could meet him at his flat and he could fuck me. We'd been doing that for a couple of months now, fucking that is, not dancing, mainly during the afternoons.
The ball finished at one and he opened the door of his flat to me at twenty past. I was wearing a high fronted, low backed, yellow dress and no bra. He was naked. We were both slightly and pleasantly drunk. We went straight to the bedroom with him removing my dress by pulling it up and over my head on the way. I was only wearing the French knickers under the dress, no bra or tights or stockings. During the evening, I had enjoyed his body against mine and the way that his eyes had been drawn to my wobbling, bare tits under the thin material of the dress.
Standing by the bed we kissed. He caressed me. He gripped the cheeks of my bum through the silk of my knickers.
"Oh that feels lovely," he whispered into my ear as he pressed his full erection against my silk covered tummy. I didn't know whether he meant on his hands or cock, but I didn't ask or care come to that for it felt lovely to me too.
He laid me on his bed, the one he shares with his bitch of a wife who lived in London, but came down most weekends. He sucked my nipples and I stroked his cock. We were getting ready to fuck. We kissed hard, deep and long as we stroked and rubbed each other.
"Come on, " I groaned as the need for satisfying the strong want became almost unbearable.
"What baby, what do you want?" He asked his hand inside my knickers at the back his finger fiddling inside the crease of my bum.
Oliver had introduced me to anal sex. Until him I had mainly been with boys, well they seemed like boys, not like him who was very much a man. A forty ************ married man, an experienced man, a man who had cheated on his wife since they were married, yes a man who was very sexually experienced.
His was the first finger that had penetrated my tight little bumhole. His was the first tongue that had licked me there and the first that had pushed the tip slightly inside me. And his was the first cock that had slid inside me. Yes he was the first man to fuck me up my arse.
See the rest of the story on my blog
11295614_108316112836198_6772667859269654093_n
Yes sexy lingerie is my thing, my interest and my fetish. I am a silk and lace addict, a lingerie junky, a knicker chick.
I spend hours in lingerie, or as I have noted they're called in the US intimate apparel departments. I buy loads, far more than I could ever wear to go out, but then I don't need to go out for I have my own fashion shows. A marvellous evening for me is a bottle of dry white wine, a full length mirror in front and behind me and a pile of new undies to try on. That can make me masturbate several times in that evening.
I have a huge collection. Whilst I do have some pastel and dark coloured stuff, most is black or white, the basic colours, the colours that lingerie should be I think. I adore both. I can handle the occasional pale yellow, oyster or pink, now and then dark blue and perhaps burgundy, but not browns and greens, light blue, orange or red. Colour is important. I have a fairly pale skin, but as I have several sun holidays a year I usually have a tan and then the freckles on my chest, shoulders, back and boobs are very obvious. Black and white sets them and my tan off wonderfully.
Firstly bras. They are not as significant a fetish to me as panties, which are the pinnacle of a knicker chick's fascination.
I don't have big boobs and frankly I could easily dispense with wearing a bra, but they are sexy. I like them to be see-through, white or black of course and made of a thin material similar to the nylon of stockings. The feel as I ease my boobs into the cups of such a bra is wonderful. The sensation as the material moulds itself to each mound excites me and the pressure on each boob as I do the clip up is delightful.
I tend to choose bras that dissect each breast quite acutely and, just about, cover each of my coral pink, not very large areola. I also like, but find uncomfortable, front fastening bras, although to stand in front of a lover and unclip the bra between my tits is a major turn on.
Dressing, I will sometimes put my bra on first. Naked apart from the black or white, see through bra that gives a modicum of support, but hides nothing I look at myself in the mirror. Naturally my nipples will have hardened and equally naturally they will make indentations in the gossamer thin cups. They will look good, appealing, attractive and inviting so that generally I'll touch them, maybe even pinch them, that is such a fabulous feeling.
To help you paint a picture I guess I should describe myself.
11229906_108314292836380_5327990515288052275_n
I'm now coming up for twenty and I am uni half way through my second year at uni where I am studying English and Psychology? I am often told I look young for my age and a couple of times I have been called a l****a! I'm five feet seven inches tall and a little bit and I'm a natural brunette. I am told I'm pretty. I have a neat figure that's curvy in the right places, but I am a little bit short in the tits area being essentially an A cup, but I k** myself I am a B. Whilst tits may a little lacking I make up for with my ass, which I am told is my best asset. I weigh around one hundred and twenty two pounds, about eight and a half stone in UK currency.
*
"I think we'll keep these on," called Oliver Hopkins my English lecturer at university, said, referring to the white, French knickers I was wearing specially for him. Well for me as well of course as even at uni I was becoming a knicker chick.
We'd been to the university ball, not together of course, that was frowned upon. But lecturers and students could dance together and we had managed just enough to get us through the evening until I could meet him at his flat and he could fuck me. We'd been doing that for a couple of months now, fucking that is, not dancing, mainly during the afternoons.
The ball finished at one and he opened the door of his flat to me at twenty past. I was wearing a high fronted, low backed, yellow dress and no bra. He was naked. We were both slightly and pleasantly drunk. We went straight to the bedroom with him removing my dress by pulling it up and over my head on the way. I was only wearing the French knickers under the dress, no bra or tights or stockings. During the evening, I had enjoyed his body against mine and the way that his eyes had been drawn to my wobbling, bare tits under the thin material of the dress.
Standing by the bed we kissed. He caressed me. He gripped the cheeks of my bum through the silk of my knickers.
"Oh that feels lovely," he whispered into my ear as he pressed his full erection against my silk covered tummy. I didn't know whether he meant on his hands or cock, but I didn't ask or care come to that for it felt lovely to me too.
He laid me on his bed, the one he shares with his bitch of a wife who lived in London, but came down most weekends. He sucked my nipples and I stroked his cock. We were getting ready to fuck. We kissed hard, deep and long as we stroked and rubbed each other.
"Come on, " I groaned as the need for satisfying the strong want became almost unbearable.
"What baby, what do you want?" He asked his hand inside my knickers at the back his finger fiddling inside the crease of my bum.
Oliver had introduced me to anal sex. Until him I had mainly been with boys, well they seemed like boys, not like him who was very much a man. A forty ************ married man, an experienced man, a man who had cheated on his wife since they were married, yes a man who was very sexually experienced.
His was the first finger that had penetrated my tight little bumhole. His was the first tongue that had licked me there and the first that had pushed the tip slightly inside me. And his was the first cock that had slid inside me. Yes he was the first man to fuck me up my arse.
See the rest of the story on my blog
9年前
