Fishy Thighs
I wanted more than anything to touch her legs, to caress the length of her limbs, feel the skin between her thighs.
I met this girl; nice tits, but her legs were something else — gorgeous, slender yet shapely. She wore jeans that night, and as we made out in the pub car park I wanted more than anything to touch her, to caress the length of her limbs, feel the skin between her thighs. I imagined it was going to be soft and silky like satin.
I asked her on a night out and told her to wear a skirt — short, I said. Adding I wanted to show her off to my mates. But really it was to make sure I could get an eyeful of those lovely legs as I drove her to the club.
When I arrived to pick Hilary up I couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her walking towards the car; the skirt was very short. Making me happy. But as she sat down in the passenger seat my heart slumped as I realised her legs were netted, fishnets I think you call them. I could spy her skin through the holes but her long limbs were somewhat concealed.
I put my hand on her knee while driving. Glancing at me she smiled. Taking this as encouragement my fingertips felt through the netting and stroked the skin. It was soft, making my cock twitch inside my jeans. But it wasn’t enough. No sooner had I touched the warmth of her flesh than the material was under my fingers, harsh and raised, getting in the way.