Open Legs Novels & Stories

“With one leg hooked over the back of the sofa?” Seriously? Why did everyone have a problem with the way I watch TV? “Am I supposed to have my legs closed all the time because I’m a woman? I can slouch as well as any man, thank you very much.” I wriggled slightly. “Believe me, babe. I have no problem with you having your legs wide open.” “Then stop complaining.” “I do, however, have a problem with the fact you’re not naked.” “Oh, I’m sorry. Be sure to text me next time you’re dressed so I can be naked and ready for you.” I rolled my eyes and swung my leg down so I could sit up.

“Now, you’ll be good and open your legs for daddy.” I nod, half excited, half humiliated. My legs spread apart, flashing my cunt in his view. “Fucking wider, bitch.” Impatient, he slaps my legs apart, and yanks me down, this close to bashing my soft pussy against his knee. “More like it.”

"Are you that afraid of the cold?" Layla chuckled. "You said that we are going to climb a mountain, right?" "Yeah! Just get the long one! I'm not teasing you. You are tall, so you won't look chubby even if you wear long jackets." Eric slid the jacket on and instantly started to feel hot as the store was equipped with a heater that was turned on. "I'll get this one, then!" Eric took it off. "Buy a pair of winter trousers, too, or your legs will get cold." Layla stood in front of the shelf and handed him a pair of trousers.

Thank god that I shaved my genital area a few days back only. He pulled the undies out of my legs. I opened my eyes and widened my eyes in amazement after finding him inhaling the scent of me from my undies, sitting in between my legs and his eyes are closed. This is so erotic and sexy. He's looking so hot.

Still and steady. “Legs up,” he told me, and I raised them to my chest, letting my knees fall wide. I was lost to the shyness of everything now. I didn’t care how exposed I was. I knew he’d be able to see my asshole, and the wetness of my pussy, practically dripping.

His eyes followed me, brow furrowed. When I reached him, I didn’t stop right away. Instead, I placed my hands on his shoulders. He flinched, just slightly. And that almost made me laugh. I leaned in just enough for my voice to drop, softer now. “My dear husband…” I tilted my head, my gaze locking into his. “Let’s have an open marriage.” Silence. Yes, I would serve him that hot dish first.

Topless, exposed, and fucking vulnerable. I wanted to close my legs, hide the evidence of how wet I was. But I didn't. I just won't, I just kept them open. I spread them even more slightly, letting him have a better look. He settled between my legs. Kneeling down, and looking straight at my pussy covered only by soaked white cotton. "Spread your legs a little wider." I did, spreading them just a little wider, and feeling even way more exposed now. "Good girl."

They brought the box to the living room. He sat on the floor. Of course. She sat beside him without comment. They put the box between them. He looked at it for a moment. At his mother’s name on the label. Sandra Reid. He opened it. Not much. Osei had been right about that. A bundle of photographs held together with a rubber band that had lost most of its elasticity. A small notebook. A ring, plain silver band, slightly worn, nothing valuable. A paperback book with a cracked spine and a page turned down about a third of the way through.

Alice reminded her. “It’s fine, hon. I’ll just tell them it’s the fashion in the United States. They’ll get used to it,” Odette replied nonchalantly. “Okay, it’s up to you,” Alice said, not bothering to argue. “And how about your Capri leggings? Won’t those be even more scandalous?” Odette asked. “The fabric isn’t thin. It’s just stretchy, and my shirt is long enough to cover everything,” Alice explained. “The men’s eyes will pop when they see you,” Johnson said, somewhat displeased.