This story is a continuation of ‘First sheer nylon fun’ and it takes place in the London suburbs during the late sixties. In that story I befriended a lady called Clare who helped me explore and enjoy my sheer nylon and harem costume fetishes. She borrowed a couple of theatre-quality harem costumes from a professional wardrobe and we had an afternoon of slippery nylon fun.
I never dreamt I that I would spend an afternoon with a woman who shared my fetish, both of us dressed in silky smooth sheer nylon. The fact that she’d given me an orgasm to remember, was an added bonus.
I said it would be nice to own an outfit of the same quality and she gave me the phone number of a professional seamstress who could help me. In this story I contact that lady.
It had taken me ages to summon up the courage to ring Mary. Back then in the sixties, buying an outfit for crossdressing was difficult and embarrassing and the only men who did it were drag artists who usually wanted glamorous gowns, not harem costumes. I had already been brave enough to ring a couple of fancy dress suppliers asking if they could make a costume to fit me, but one just laughed and the other started asking all sorts of awkward questions for which I wasn’t prepared. Why they couldn’t just act professionally instead of humiliating me still hurts to this day. Even though Mary had been recommended by Clare, I still wasn’t completely sure if she would treat me like a freak.
On one of my Wednesday afternoons off from college, a couple of months later, I rang Mary’s number. I was shaking all over and it was difficult to dial the code. My mouth felt as if I’d been sucking blotting paper so I could barely speak when she answered
“Hello,” I said. “My name is Peter. I was given your details by Clare Mclean so that I could ask you about making a costume for me.”
“Yes, I remember,” Mary answered. “Female harem costume wasn’t it?”
“Th…That’s right,” I spluttered.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, dear, I can hear the nervousness in your voice. I have no objection to men wearing feminine garments. In fact I think it’s quite sweet. I’m only too happy to help with something a little unusual.”
“Thanks, Mary, you’re very kind. I’m so relieved.”
“Not at all dear. Do you have a picture of the kind of thing you’re looking for?
“Yes, a photograph.”
“Well, as it happens, I don’t live very far from Clare. Would you like to bring the picture round so we can discuss details?”
“I’ve got to be honest with you. I might not have saved up enough to afford it yet. I hope that’s OK?”
“Of course it is, we can sort out that stuff later when I know what you want me to make.”
“What’s your address, Mary?”
When she told me I realised it was only a few minutes away.
“That’s only just down the road,” I said. “Can I see you now?”
“That’s fine, Peter. See you shortly.”
When she opened the door, I was surprised at how young she looked. She was about the same height as me and as slim and her kind face was attractive and welcoming. I guessed she must be in her early forties.
“Hello Peter,” Mary said, shaking my hand. “Come in.”
“You’re just as Clare described you,” she added.
We went through to her workroom, which was dominated by a rectangular fabric bench.
“Can I see the photograph,” she asked.
I retrieved the photo from my briefcase and handed it to her. I had photographed the TV screen during an episode of ‘The Avengers’ and the photo showed an actress running across the screen in a very sheer harem costume.
“That’s very nice,” she said, peering closely at the picture. “Yards of chiffon fluttering about — very attractive.”
“Clare told me it was nylon chiffon.”
“I think she’s right. So you prefer nylon to silk?”
“I don’t blame you, it looks gorgeous when gathered, nice bouncy folds.”
“Goodness, it’s as if you were reading my mind,” I said.
“Other advantage of course is that it’s much cheaper than silk.”
She turned towards the back of the room.
“I’ve got some nylon chiffon in stock,” she said. “Would you like to have a look?”
“These aren’t as sheer as I would like,” I said, after examining them.
“That’s OK, Peter. I’m sure we can find something to suit your tastes.”
“Well, as a matter of fact there is, but I haven’t found anything remotely the same texture and sheerness in any of the fabric departments of the big stores.”
I pulled out the original chiffon scarf I’d purchased with Clare and handed it to Mary.
“It’s a lovely light texture,” she said, ” and I can imagine how yards and yards of this would make it just heavy enough to billow and flutter attractively. That’s what you really like about nylon chiffon, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. It’s making me tingle just thinking about it.”
“Well, the bad news is that normally you wouldn’t make garments out of such a delicate fabric. That’s why you can’t find it generally available for dressmaking. It would normally only be used for making items like scarves that don’t need to be robust.”
“Oh,” I said, the disappointment obvious in my voice.
“You’ve set your heart on this, haven’t you?”
“I had rather. You’re right.”
“OK, seeing as you’re such a nice, polite young man, I’ll try and get hold of some for you, but it might mean having to purchase a whole bolt or roll of chiffon. I might even have to import it, which would add to the cost.”
“How much do you think it could cost?”
She told me.
“OK,” I said, “I think I could manage that. Of course it depends on the whole cost of the costume.”
“About three times the cost of the fabric,” said Mary.
“That means I’ve got enough saved already.”
“Clare was very persuasive when she asked me to do you a favour. I’d normally charge a lot more.”
“I’d need a deposit for the fabric seeing as it’s a special order. Say, half the cost of the fabric.”
“I could bring that round tomorrow. Would that be OK?”
“That would be perfect, Peter. Now, it could take a few weeks because I’ll have to request fabric samples from the suppliers. And I’ll need to keep your scarf to make comparisons. Can you do without it for a while?”
“Yes, of course.”
I took the deposit to Mary the next day and because I didn’t have a telephone in my flat, we agreed that I would call her each Wednesday to check on her progress.
The next two months seemed to drag by and one Wednesday I almost forgot to call. I ended up ringing at around 6:00 pm.
“Hello Mary. I’m sorry I left it late.”
“That’s OK, Peter,” Mary answered. “I think I’ve found a suitable fabric at last from a supplier in Italy. Would you like to see it?”
“Certainly. You’ve already been very patient. I see no need to make you wait any longer than necessary.”
“You’re very kind, Mary. See you shortly.”
I ran all the way and was panting when she opened the door.
“My, you are keen,” said Mary. “Better come in”
She already had the samples laid out on her bench in about eight different colours.
“These are nice large samples,” Mary said, “because I’ll have to buy the whole bolt.”
I picked up the sample nearest to me, which was purple and ran it over my fingers. I couldn’t suppress a gasp at the delightful texture.
“I thought you’d like it,” said Mary, beaming at me and placing her hand on my shoulder. “It’s even finer and silkier than your scarf. I bet you are imagining already what this will feel like caressing your skin.”
I blushed deeply and felt my cock stirring in my underpants. Mary put her other hand on my free shoulder and said, “Look, there’s no need to be embarrassed. I know how important the texture of the fabric is to you. Let me tell you a story.”
“About eight or ten years ago I used to work as a seamstress for one of the big theatrical costumiers in London. There was a lovely young man called Bill, about your age, who had just started working in the men’s department. One evening, I was working late when behind me, around the corner, I heard somebody enter the women’s costume stockroom. I should have been on my own in that part of the building, so I followed as quietly as I could and peered into the stockroom only to see Bill systematically examining various female costumes as he worked his way down the rack. After about the third costume, I suddenly realised they all shared the same feature: they were all partially or completely made from chiffon. Finally he got to a part of the rack where we kept all the glamorous nightdresses and peignoirs, all huge billowing sleeves and trains for swishing about castle corridors. He pulled out the first one and and fondled the fabric and then, obviously in raptures, caressed his face with the sleeve. Suddenly he looked in my direction and my heart nearly jumped out of my throat. I needn’t have worried because he obviously couldn’t see me. I tiptoed back to the workroom as quickly as I could and within seconds heard him leaving.”
“I waited a few more seconds and then out of burning curiosity I went back to the storeroom and straight to the place I’d seen him at last. The costume he’d been fondling wasn’t there. I knew, because it was one I’d made only the previous year from a particularly soft nylon chiffon which draped beautifully, especially when moving. I quickly checked the rest of that collection just to make sure I was right. Bill had obviously taken the costume home with him.”
“My train was late the next morning, so I would have every chance of being later than Bill. I went straight to the stockroom and was greatly relieved to see the costume back in place – it was against the rules to take any of the costumes home without permission and I didn’t want to see Bill get into trouble. At lunchtime I caught him just as he was leaving the premises.”
“‘Oh Bill could you give me a hand, please, before you go to lunch’, I said to him.”
“‘Certainly,’ he answered.”
“‘Follow me then,’ I said, marching into the women’s stockroom.”
“‘Come closer,’ I said encouragingly, as I reached the nightgowns section.”
“I took the nylon chiffon nightgown off the rack and said, ‘It’s lovely, isn’t it?'”
“Bill blushed. ‘Er, yes, I suppose it is.’ He began to look very uncomfortable.”
“‘Look, Bill, I know you took this home with you last night.'”
“‘Just take my word for it. You know they’ll sack you if they find out.'”
“Bill was really looking scared now. I wasn’t handling this very well, so I decided to put his mind at rest immediately. I put my hand on his shoulder and taking a huge gamble, said to him as kindly as I could, ‘Would you like me to make one like this for you?'”
“Bill’s face broke into an expression which was a mixture of relief and gratitude. ‘Yes, please, Mary,’ he said, his eyes filling up with tears.”
“‘Well buy me lunch and tell me all about it,’ I said, grabbing his hand.”
“I took him to a pub with booths where you couldn’t be overheard and he bought us both a drink and a sandwich. ‘Why are you doing this for me, Mary?’ he said, sitting down.”
“‘Well, the straightforward answer is that I doubt that you could get hold of such a glamorous garment in the shops, even if you could afford it.'”
“‘I’m too embarassed to go into the shops in the first place,’ Bill answered, ‘but I still don’t understand why you’d be willing to help me. In fact I’m surprised and delighted. Only the other day I overheard two of the assistants in your section talking about a man who’d tried to hire a female costume. You would think by what they said that he’d exposed himself to them. They obviously embarrased the poor man so much he left the shop empty-handed.'”
“‘Yes, some women are so narrow-minded,’ I said. ‘Anyway, tell me how it all started, first.'”
“‘Well first of all, I’m not effeminate, I’m not….you know?’ Bill began.'”
“‘No, I don’t think you are,’ I reassured him.”
“‘Do you remember all those old films where the heroine wanders around in a billowing chiffon nightgown?’ Bill asked. I nodded.
‘Well,’ Bill continued, ‘I began to notice that every time it happened in the film, my heart would suddenly start beating very fast and I would begin to feel hot with excitement. I also realised that I wanted to touch those nightgowns, to feel them against my bare skin.'”
“‘Then as I got a little older I began to get erections at the same time, but I knew that I must keep this to myself, although it felt perfectly natural. How would a young boy get hold of a nightgown like that? My mother didn’t own any glamorous chiffon garments, except for one that she’d rescued from her bombed-out house during the war, but that comes into the story later. She certainly couldn’t afford anything like that once rationing had finished because my father died suddenly when I was about two years old and the small pension that he’d left her was barely enough to live on.'”
“‘Eventually my mother met a travelling salesman who became her boyfriend just about the time I started senior school. He earned a lot of commission which he mostly spent on my mother. Nevertheless it made our lives a lot easier for a while and Mum got taken out regularly. One Easter holiday when I was about thirteen they got invited to a fancy dress party at a posh house, so no cheap local costume hire shop for them. A few days before the party they went up to London to a very expensive theatrical costumiers whilst I was at school. I arrived home just in time to see them taking their costumes into Mum’s bedroom. I just caught a glimpse of some black transparent material.'”
“‘I knew they were going out that evening and I couldn’t wait to see what Mum had hired. I gave it a few minutes after they left and then wandered into Mum’s bedroom. The costumes had been hung up on the outside of the wardrobe, with hers underneath, so I had to lift his out of the way. It was a very heavy 19th century military uniform, including a sword and I very nearly dropped it when I caught sight of Mum’s outfit.'”
“‘It was a black chiffon nightgown and negligee, just like those I had seen in those black and white films from the 40s. With the costume was a long blonde wig, so I presumed Mum was going to the party as someone like Lana Turner. What really caught my attention, though, were the sleeves of the negligee. I had never seen anything so beautiful. The way the chiffon billowed out softly from the shoulders, getting wider and wider until finally being gathered at the delicate cuffs was just so attractive. It was inevitable; I just had to try it on. I hurriedly undressed, wisely keeping my underpants on (they were already bulging).'”
“‘My hands were shaking so much, I was almost unable to take the negligee off the hanger. In no time at all my arms were plunging into the silky caress of the sleeves. As I was then about the same size as Mum, it fitted perfectly. My hands were still shaking as I managed to do up the tiny buttons on the bodice and cuffs. Just then I heard the front door open and close and then Mum’s footsteps swiftly coming along the hall of our flat. I was still struggling with the buttons on the bodice when Mum appeared in the bedroom doorway. I’ve never been so embarrased. “Oh Mum,” I blurted out. “I’m ever so sorry!” Instead of getting angry with me, she walked up to me and did up the buttons I had just undone. “No need to be, my love,” she said with a warm smile on her face. “Now where’s that hankie I forgot.”‘
“‘She stopped at the door on her way out. “You can keep that on all evening if you like, as long as you don’t get it dirty and make sure it’s back on the hanger before we return. I’ll have a little chat with you tomorrow when you get home from school – nothing to worry about. Have fun!”‘
“‘When I got home from school the next day Mum was waiting in the living room with her costume draped over one of the chairs. “Sit down Bill,” she said. “Now don’t worry, I just want to ask you a few questions. Be honest, won’t you?” “OK Mum,” I answered. “Have you ever worn any of my clothes before?” she said. “No Mum.” “So it’s just this costume?” “That’s right Mum.” “And how did you know?” “When I saw them in those old films on TV. I used to get excited.” Mum thought for a bit. “Then I think it’s because of something I did when you were much younger.”
“‘”Do you remember those silky pyjamas you used to have when you were a little boy?” “I think so.” A warm memory began to stir in my mind. “Well when we had very little money I made them up from an old semi-transparent rayon evening dress that didn’t fit me any longer. I thought nothing of it. After all, there were plenty of men who wore silk pyjamas. But my sister got on her high horse when she saw you wearing them and warned me about turning you into a sissy. She said she’d noticed the way you kept fondling the material. I told her to mind her own business. However, I think she may have been partly correct because when you got too big to wear them any longer, you made a terrific fuss when I took them to the jumble sale. I don’t think you’re a sissy, Bill. You were telling me only the other day about a girl, in your class, that you really fancy but didn’t have the courage to speak to.” “Oh, Angela you mean? Yes, she’s gorgeous.”‘”
“‘”Well there you go, nothing to worry about. Would you like to put on the costume for another couple of hours before Ted (her boyfriend) gets home? You won’t have much of an opportunity again for a long while – the deposit alone on each costume was more than three weeks wages.”
“Thanks Mum,” I said, taking the costume from her. “Both items, please Bill,” she said firmly, ” I think you know why. Oh and come back here when you’ve put them on.”‘”
“‘In no time at all I was back in the living room. “How does all that lovely chiffon feel against your skin?” Mum asked. “It’s heavenly, Mum.” “Ooh you lucky boy. Now, have you ever touched my nylons?” “No I haven’t. I’ve got no idea what they’re like.” “Well, if I’m right, you won’t be able to resist these,” she said holding up a cellophane packet. They’re one of the really expensive ones Ted insisted on buying me, but to be honest, they’re so fine they ladder almost without an excuse so I don’t wear the others very often.” With that she opened up the packet and unwound them carefully from the piece of card on which they were wrapped. “Now handle these carefully, they’re very delicate,” she said, handing them to me.'”
“‘I tried hard to keep hold of them, but my fingers were trembling so much the nylons just slid over my fingers and onto my lap. Mum laughed. “They’re very slippery, aren’t they?” “When they slid across my hands the feeling was so cool and silky,” I answered. “So you like them, then?” “They’re just absolutely gorgeous, Mum. I never knew anything like this existed.” “OK, they’re yours to keep, seeing as you won’t have access to the negligee for too much longer, but don’t try wearing them. They feel nicer to fondle if they remain unstretched.”‘”
“‘As I reached school-leaving age, I realised that I would never have the opportunity to touch or wear a glamorous theatrical nightgown again unless I somehow worked with costumes for a living, so I subscribed to the trade papers, collecting them regularly from the newsagent. Then one day, I couldn’t believe my luck, the job I’ve got now was advertised. I was a bit disappointed when I was told the job was in the men’s department, but I knew that I couldn’t afford to miss the opportunity and here I am.'”
“‘So did you enjoy wearing the nightgown you borrowed last night?’ I asked Bill. ‘Did you manage to get full pleasure from it?,’ I said with a wink.”
“‘Yes,’ he answered, turning red, ‘it looked really beautiful and felt wonderful against my skin. I was careful not to make a mess. It would look even better on an attractive woman, though, someone like you.'”
“I let the flattery get to me and suddenly I was suggesting that I would model it for him that same evening in the shop after everyone had gone home. ‘At the same time I’ll take your measurements for your nightgown.’ Bill looked astounded. ‘See you about 6.30, then.'”
“At 6.30 Bill came down the stairs and we went into the ladie’s stockroom together. I took the nightgown down and told him to wait there for me. I quickly changed, keeping my underwear on as the gown was completely transparent. I quietly walked back into the stockroom and could see Bill fondling some of the other chiffon gowns. ‘Bill,’ I called out softly. He spun around and his mouth dropped open. Then I started slowly walking towards him with the chiffon fluttering around my limbs and he had to grab hold of one of rails to steady himself. ‘You’re a vision from heaven,’ he managed to splutter.”
“‘Now calm yourself down,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to take your measurements.’ He nodded and stood still in the middle of the aisle, but all the while his body was shaking like a leaf, poor boy, and when I stood in front of him, the bulge in his trousers was unmistakeable.'”
“‘Have you felt all of the chiffons, yet,’ I asked him as I was measuring. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘I only got this far last night.’ ‘Well, while you’ve got the opportunity why don’t you try them all in case there’s a nicer one.’ So we went completely round the racks and it soon became clear it was the smoothness of nylon chiffon he preferred and not the slightly crinkly texture of silk chiffon or the stiffness of silk organza. In the end, he chose a really nice soft shiny nylon chiffon from which a pair of harem pantaloons had been made. ‘Good,’ I said, ‘we’ve got loads of that in stock.'”
“‘OK, that’s all I need,’ I said, but I could see the poor lad was fit to burst. ‘You can’t go home like this,’ I said, patting the front of his trousers. ‘No, er….,’ said Bill as I undid the front of his trousers. However, he was so excited, that a few strokes through his underpants was all he needed to bring him off. I kept stroking as he held onto my shoulders and his spasms subsided. ‘Thank you Mary,’ Bill said. ‘That was really nice of you.'”
“‘Just this once, you understand?’ I said.”
“‘Of course,’ he replied.”
“‘Not another word about this and I’ll let you know when your costume is ready.'”
“It took him a few months to pay me off in installments, Peter,” Mary said, “but he was really pleased with his nightgown. Sent me a huge bouquet in thanks. So you see, I understand your requirements, probably more than you do. Now what do you think of the sample?”
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Really gorgeous. How long will it take to get the whole bolt?”
“About two or three weeks,” said Mary, picking up her tape measure. “Meanwhile I can work on the pattern after I’ve taken your measurements.”
“You mean now?”
“Of course. It won’t take long.”
Mary was finished in less than ten minutes, writing all the figures down in a large notebook. I was a little surprised that she measured practically every part of my body, but then I knew nothing about dressmaking. Then she turned to a fresh page and drew a very quick sketch of the planned outfit.
“Wow, Mary. You’re really talented.”
“Thank you. I’ve drawn the sleeves and legs at the minimum volume that would suit this design. Is that OK or would you like more volume, in other words more chiffon?”
“Oh, much more,” I answered. “Let’s say, three times as much.”
A couple of minutes later, Mary had completed another drawing.
“That would be perfect, Mary.”
“Let’s just check the design I’ve drawn before we go any further.”
“A bra top with shoulder straps and the sleeves set in at the shoulder and a panty just below the navel with the legs set in to the leg holes of the panty?”
“Perfect, I answered.”
“I think I’ll make the bra and panty in a nice classy brocade.”
“I’m assuming you’ll want a slit down the front of the panty?”
I was speechless and was turning bright red.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” said Mary, kindly. “Of course I know why you want to wear the outfit. Shall we say for a little personal excitement? I should think you’d want to get at your pride and joy without removing the trousers.”
“Mary, that’s very thoughtful of you.”
“OK, I’ll design a discrete release system for you. Give me a ring in two months.”
The next two months were filled with mounting anticipation until the time I agreed to ring Mary. I was so anxious to find out if she’d finished, that I rang her at lunchtime.
“Hello, Peter,” Mary answered. “Look, I’m not quite finished yet. How about early evening. Say, 6:00 again.”
“Oh Mary, I can’t wait!”
That afternoon seemed like a lifetime until I found myself knocking on Mary’s door.
“It’s ready,” said Mary, as soon as she opened the door. “Come in and stand here.”
She closed the door and held up a black satin blindfold for me to put on.
“I don’t want any peeking just yet,” she said.
I pulled the blindfold over my head and made sure I could see nothing. Mary took my hand and led me to her workshop.
“You’re going to love this, Peter. Your choice of fabric was perfect. It makes the most beautiful billowing sleeves and legs I’ve ever seen on this design of harem costume.”
“Now wait here,” she continued. “I’ve just got to fetch something from upstairs.”
I waited, leaning against Mary’s workbench. My mouth was dry with nervousness and my imagination was running riot. Just as I began to wonder where she had got to, I heard her footsteps on the stairs and then coming up behind me.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said.
“Can I take off the blindfold, please, Mary?” My voice was shaking.
“Of course,” she said from behind me. “Let me do it for you.”
I blinked a couple of times as my eyes became accustomed to the light again, but the costume was nowhere to be seen. I took a step forward and then Mary giggled behind me.
I turned around and gasped loudly at the sight before me. Mary was wearing the most luscious harem costume I had ever seen, anywhere on TV, film or in a magazine. I was speechless at the beauty of the vision before me and with an overwhelming desire for Mary.
“Oh, Mary!” I sighed. “You look good enough to eat!”
“Peter, I didn’t mean to tease you, I just wanted you to have the opportunity to see a woman wearing it. I guessed you might be like Bill in that respect. The delight on your face was priceless.”
“Thanks Mary, I wouldn’t have had the nerve to ask you to do that for me.”
“I expect you’d like to try it on now?”
“Mmm,” I nodded enthusiastically.
“Back shortly,” sang Mary, as she ran up the stairs. When she returned she laid the costume carefully on her workbench. I took one of the voluminous sleeves in my trembling hands and although it had been made with so much fabric, it weighed next to nothing. The feeling as the gossamer-fine fabric ran over my hands was cool and silky beyond belief. I got so carried away, I took the sleeve and cupped my whole face in it, moaning with pleasure as I breathed through the fabric.
“Oh, Mary,” I sighed, “this is a dream come true.”
“Well you’d better try it on, then,” she giggled, leaving by the door. “Let me know when you’re ready, just in case I have to make any alterations.”
I wasn’t going to rush this time. I was going to savour the experience of putting on this fabulous garment. I lifted one of the legs up and was again astounded at the amount of fabric Mary had used and how little it weighed because it was so wispy. I slowly removed my clothes and hung them over the back of a chair. By now my cock had been fully erect for nearly ten minutes and I wondered if the costume’s panty would hide it sufficiently.
When I looked around the back of the costume, the trousers appeared to be held up by the zip at the back of the panty, So I slid the zip open. Then I sat down and slid my left foot through the left leg hole of the panty, pulling it up so that it was just over my knees. I did the same with my right foot and then carefully pulled the ankle cuffs over each foot. I couldn’t see how they fastened for the moment so I stood up holding on to the panty and eased it all the way up into position. The tops of my thighs now fitted snugly into the leg holes. Finally, I reached around and did up the zip. Apart from the bulge caused by my cock, it fitted perfectly.
I moved over to look at myself in Mary’s full length mirror and admired her precision. The bottoms of the sheer legs billowed out perfectly in line with the ankle cuffs. They were exactly the right length. I walked up and down for a few steps and the sheer fabric shimmered and billowed about my legs so delightfully.
Then I switched my attention to the top. I wondered how the bra cups were keeping their shape but remaining soft like two little pillows. I could see that Mary had filled the cups with loads of chiffon off cuts and then sealed them in place with another piece of chiffon sewn over the opening.
The top was easy to put on, but when I tried to fix the strap at the back, I couldn’t manage. I opened the door and called for Mary.
“I can’t do it up at the back,” I said as she came into the room, so she motioned me to turn around. A couple of seconds later, the strap was secured.
“Give us a twirl, Peter,” Mary said, stepping back a little. “You were right to choose that fabric. It shimmers really attractively and the way it gathers at the cuffs is really beautiful. What do you think of it now you’re wearing it?”
“Mary, I don’t know what to say. I’m absolutely astounded, almost speechless. I think this has to be the most exciting day of my life.”
“Well it isn’t over yet, Peter.”
I wondered what she meant by that.
“Have you done up the cuffs yet?” she asked.
“I haven’t got round to it”
“That’s OK,” she said, reaching into a drawer. “I’ve got a treat for you.”
She held up a pair of chiffon gloves.
“Did you make those for me?” I said.
“Yes, and several more as spares,” she said, handing them to me. “After all, I had plenty of fabric.”
My hands were trembling as I slipped the gloves on over my fingers. They reached a little way above my cuffs.
Mary then stepped forward and pulled the sleeves over the gloves and secured the cuffs with the attached press studs, which also prevented the gloves coming loose. I closed and opened my fists several times to see what they felt like.
“Thank you Mary, these are wonderful,” I said. “They feel fantastic on my fingers.”
I then ran my gloved fingers up and down my arms and sighed with pleasure at the slippery feeling.
“I can see you’re pretty excited, Peter, “Mary said, looking down at the bulge in my panty. “Have you discovered how to get your cock out through the slit, yet?”
“Er, no. I was a bit embarrassed to tell the truth. I was going to wait until I got home and do it in private”
“No need to be,” she said, smiling at me. “We both know what the outfit will be used for.”
“You’re right, I’m being silly.”
“Come here, then, let me show you.”
I moved close to her and she reached down with both hands and parted the overlaying double slit that I hadn’t noticed before and suddenly my cock sprang out. Then her hands moved to the lower end of the slit and eased my balls out also.
“Voila!” she cried. “Now you’re ready for some fun. I would say your cock looks a little undressed, though. In that case, I’ve another little surprise for you. Close your eyes first.”
“Whatever you say, Mary”
I heard a drawer opening again.
“Keep still while I put this on and no peeping.”
Then I felt something soft and cool sliding deliciously down my cock and up under my balls.
“OK,” said Mary, “you can look now.”
I opened my eyes and stared in disbelief at my genitals. They were now covered in their own little chiffon pouch, secured around the base by an elasticated band. The sight of my cock encased in this lovely sheer nylon was very erotic.
“Mary, you’re a genius,” I said, “and so thoughtful.”
“Why thank you, Peter. I appreciate that.”
Mary then reached into the drawer again and took out another pair of the gloves and carefully slid them onto her own hands, with a mischievous look on her face. “Stay where you are, I’m just going to loosen your bra strap,” she said, stepping behind me. Mary then undid the bra, and from behind me, reached around and placed a gloved hand on either side of my chest, just below the bra cups. Then she slid her hands behind my bra cups until her middle fingers were resting on a nipple each. Then she slowly and gently pulled each nipple to one side until they sprang back into position under the slippery chiffon-clad finger. Twice more and I was quivering with unexpected pleasure.
“I think you liked that,” said Mary, putting her mouth close to my ear.
“I’ve never felt anything like it before, especially with you wearing those gloves,” I replied.
“Would you like me to do it some more?” she teased.
“Yes, please, Mary. Yes, please!”
“I tell you what,” she replied. “I’ll carry on sliding my fingers over your nipples if you try out these pretty gloves properly.”
“You don’t mean…?”
“Yes, I do mean…,” she said. “I want to see how exciting you find these little extras.”
“Whatever you say Mary. I’d do anything for you.”
Mary laughed, “Just stroking yourself to a climax with those gloves will do.”
I closed my gloved right hand around the top of my shaft and slid it down to the base.
“Oh my God!” I cried out. The almost frictionless sensation was so thrilling.
“Carry on, Peter,” Mary urged.
“Of course,” I said, starting to stroke continuously.
But it took only a few seconds before I realised I’d passed the point of no return. The combined sensation of one layer of chiffon whispering over another caressing my straining cock and the delicious feeling as Mary stroked my nipples was more than enough. “Oh Mary!” I moaned, nearly collapsing with ecstasy as the most wonderful orgasm I’d ever had seemed to take over my whole body.
When I’d finished, Mary handed me a piece of spare cloth to stop my come leaking out everywhere. Soon the come-soaked nylon pouch was wrapped up in the cloth and I was dabbing away the excess with a tissue.