Moms In Pantyhose Novels & Stories

Mom finally got tired of trying to coax me into making the first move using passive displays (at least that's the way I see it now) and decided to get aggressive. She was sitting across from me in the easy chair and I was watching TV. Her legs were spread open and I could see the garter belt that was holding up her nylons and the wet crotch of her panties - wet with what I now know was the cum of whoever she had picked up at the bar. I had a hard time keeping my eye on the TV because they kept wanting to stray over to mom's legs. She had great legs and she always wore high heels and nylons and that was (and still is) my biggest turn on.

Her shape was more Rubenesque than she was in the video, but still great proportions and tone. Mum's panties were soaked with moisture from her arousal to the point I could almost see right through them to her pussy. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them too off her hips and down her thighs. Her pussy was so wet they clung there a moment longer, letting go with a snap. Down and off along with her pants. Mum was now naked too, as Ginger and me.

Seduced by mum (3) I watched as she put on her other thigh-high, then her white shirt and finally, without panties, her knee length pencil skirt. My mother goes to the office in sexy stockings and no panties? What the fuck was going on? Suddenly my smartwatch beeped. Before I could do anything, Mom turned around to look at her door. She was all dressed up, putting in an earring. I gasped, "Shit," and I walked in, pretending I had just got there. "Are you ready, Mom? I'm going to be late for my first period."

“My friend, Kelly, makes these for me with a special sleeve that I put it in. Because it is so long and stiff, it is better to put it up, and I use another pair to hold it up.” “Wow.” Tiffany blushed and looked excited at the same time. “So, you don’t wear anything else under them?” “No, they are called pantyhose for a reason. The panty is built into them. Isn’t it?” Tiffany stopped. “That is too damn logical. I get it.” She laughed. “Oh my god, I get it.” She giggled for a while. “My mom is going to freak out about this.” “Do you need someone to fix your hair?”

She arched forward so that her breasts popped at me and I drank in my mom's voluptuous, supple spheres. "Awesome! But, I can only see the top. Lemme see your panties," I requested and a smile remained painted on mom's lips. "Mmm, 'panties' is such a dirty word," mom said, standing up, her robe sliding off her shoulders to the chair. "...especially to say you mother." I eyed the absolute treat unveiling itself to me while I pondered her comment. Should I not refer to them as panties? 'Underwear' is such a boring word. "So, do you like my panties, baby?" The seductive way she said the word 'panties' sent a pulse through my cock. I nearly moaned aloud.

" I honestly couldn't believe those words were coming out of her mouth. "Get out into the world? Toughen up?" I spoke softly and slowly, then suddenly laughed. "Mom, was living in a tiny room with barely enough space to move around supposed to toughen me up? Was being screamed at by my manager until midnight and not being allowed to get off work supposed to toughen me up? "When I first started, I couldn't even find a decent job. I washed dishes at a restaurant all winter long, and even now my fingers ache so badly every winter that I can't sleep. Is this what you call toughening me up?"

Half of her ass cheeks hang out and she looks so hot, I could just pull those shorts off and just bang the shit out of her. My mother Elizabeth was a very young looking light brunette almost blond and green eyes. Mom is 38 and a woman with very long legs and very much a modern woman that still shows off her legs wearing shorter skirts then maybe women her age would wear, but I am not sure about that. I like to see my mom is high heels because it seems her skirts or dresses get shorter and I always try to get a peek up her skirt or dress. I have gotten lucky a several times and have seen her different color panties.

"You raised him for so many years. He already treated you as his real mother." Mrs. Whitlock had argued with Mom before about my pants being so short that my calves would turn red and freeze in the winter. It was something I was accustomed to, as I ran about without ever seeming to notice the cold. She couldn't bear to watch it and gave me her daughter's padded pants. When Mom saw it, she had argued with her.

"I've had it with you! Do I look like a pushover, huh?" Unaccustomed to such humiliation, Mom struggled to her feet to teach the women a lesson. But her two fists were no match for so many opponents, and she was ultimately forced back to the floor. The women she had bullied over the years punched and kicked her while she lay there helpless, curled up on the floor, protecting her face as best as she could. She was acting just like I used to. For the first time, Mom was defeated by those women. The series of blows she had suffered left her on the brink of madness—more so than ever.

Instead, he was looking at me with a hint of curiosity. The woman, whose hand Julian held, was dressed in a long, white dress. She had an elegant and gentle air, yet she was nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear under my scrutiny. Yohan noticed the way I was staring at Emily Walker. He then stood protectively in front of her. If I truly had lost my memories, I might actually believe that these people before me were a loving family of three. Julian tugged at Yohan's hand and whispered, "Since Mommy lost her memories, does that mean you guys can get a divorce now, Daddy?"