My dinner date with a gentleman who just loves stockings

I was sitting on the bus to work thinking about the usual things in life, hair make up, lingerie etc. It was a Friday and was looking forward to the weekend. Fridays are always the best day at work for me as I get to finish early, being an office temp I got that luxury but it was one of only a few luxuries I did have when it came to work. The bus seat was uncomfortable and when we went up and down over cracks in the road my skirt kept riding up, so I forever had to perch up and sort my skirt before the old man sitting across from me stole a peek.

My bus finally got to my stop and I made my way down the stairs and onto the street. It was a lovely day, the sun was hot and the sky was clear. I headed down the street to the office. My shoes were clacking against the ground, my stockings protecting my feet from the harsh consequences that high heels provided. My stockings also protected my legs from sunburn. I use these excuses every day just so I can feel the soft material of stockings grace my legs. I love the feel of walking when I’m wearing stockings; it’s like rubbing my legs against silk. The feeling is sensuous and erotic. When I walk and my stockings rub together it is like electricity between my legs. I love the sensation of the suspender clips gently nibbling away at my inner thighs, my panties rubbing against my body when I move and the way that stockings make me feel like a woman in power.

I walked into the building oozing confidence. I used the lift to get to the middle floor; I was not walking up stairs in heels. I was wearing my black ones today to match my black Yves saint Lauren suit. I wore a deep red shirt underneath my suit jacket. My lingerie was scarlet red. My bra was made of lace and the cups were moulded. The straps were thin and the cups sat in a half moon shape supporting my firm breasts. My panties were silk, they were the colour of blood and felt like heaven to wear. I stared at them lying on my sheets this morning and against the whiteness they stood out like a bright light. My suspenders match the colour of my panties. My stockings were scarlet red in colour. They were made of Lycra and the sheer material shone in the sun glinting through the building windows. Once I started walking through the office I was getting funny looks, some good, and some bad. It seemed as though some of the staff weren’t used to their colleagues wearing stockings to work.

I eased myself down at my desk, the desk I was designated for my several weeks here. Some of the women in the office looked at me shocked while some of the men looked with lust. Their eager eyes telling me that I looked good enough to eat. I crossed over my legs and this caught their attention further. My skirt slid up just enough that they could see they were definitely stockings and not tights. Their eyes were glued to the tops of my thighs, that was until I stood up to sort myself out. I did not want to set a bad example in my first week. My skirt was shorted that it was supposed to be for work and as a result of that the tips of my stockings showed, my colleagues catching the glint of my metal suspenders if they looked the right way. I crossed over my legs, quickly flashing my panties and bemusing the men sitting opposite me who could see under the desk. They eyes lit up with a sex appeal that I hadn’t seen in a long while. I enjoyed the reaction it got but thought it best to keep myself to myself for now.

The day past relatively quickly despite the mornings rush. I was glad to see the clock strike one, which meant lunch time! I made my way back to the elevator and squeezed in beside one of the gentlemen I was working with. I stood on the left and he was on the right, I looked at the lights on the lift but he was looking at my legs. To be honest I couldn’t blame him, my stockings were very sexy. He eyed me up from top to bottom. He stared at my thighs, his thoughts lingering on what my skirt was covering. He eyed his way down to my knees, staring at the curve under my knee. I felt his glare move down past my calf and rest on my feet. The lift hit the ground floor and the noise brought him back to the real world.

I made my way out of the lift and towards the cafeteria, not many offices had one so I made good use of this one. I waited in the queue to get myself some sandwiches. It wasn’t too long but I’m just impatient. After being served I headed to one of the seats in the corner where I could just watch everyone. I was sitting by myself of course; I didn’t want to make friends as I would be moving on soon.

I was eating my sandwiches when the gentleman from the lift sat two tables behind me with another one of our colleagues. They were muttering under their breath so I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I did however feel the burden of heavy gazes resting on me. I calmly ate my sandwich, pretending that I didn’t know they were stealing a look. I saw in the reflection of the window near me they were looking me up and down and obviously talking about the good bits. Again the skirt I was wearing was showing more than I had hoped for. As I sat down, in a wild bid to prevent the tips of my stockings show I pulled my skirt down and the tops of my panties were in full view. This obviously needed fixing. I stood up gracefully, pretending that I was looking for my handbag. While doing so, I sneakily adjusted my skirt and sat back down. Of course doing this meant the top of my stockings were on show and the men from the office got more for lunch than they had hoped. Their eyes sat still on my thighs, they were breathing in tune to my pulse. Watching the stockings as they sat there, doing nothing apart from making my legs look sexy. Their eyes were full of something and it wasn’t the Friday afternoon joy. I rubbed my legs together under the table and I swear that one of the men winced in anticipation. My legs bounced with every move I took exciting the gentlemen further. After devouring my sandwich, with a sexy pout on my lips the whole time I felt that it was time to put the men out of their misery and let them concentrate on their lunch.

I stood up, their eyes followed. I felt the stockings rub between my legs and my walk turned into a provocative swagger. The sensation of the stockings rubbing at the top of my thighs was unbearable. I felt the suspender clips teasingly scrape my skin, sending shivers up my spine. I emptied my food tray and headed back to the elevator.

Standing in the elevator all alone gave me the chance to feel my stockings, run my hands up and down the smooth fabric, savouring every last minute of it before I had to return to my bleak work. It felt as though water would barely touch the stockings, the material is so smooth that the water would just glide off. I felt the suspenders under my skirt; they were cold to the touch. The metal was tight and held my stockings in place; I didn’t want them to be falling down around my ankles especially at work.

I heard the lift starting to shudder which meant I was nearly at my floor; I gave my stockings one last run over with my hands, memorizing the feel under my fingers. The elevator dinged just as I stood up. I walked back to my desk and sat down, waiting for the clock to strike five so that I could head home. That is what my day is all about, hoping for the clock to strike four o clock.

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