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Chapter Two: Pant-E-Hose.
My mother Bethany Griffith was CEO and sole owner of a small but profitable advertising agency called Womankind. My father’s business interests were immense, varied and complicated but Bethany held onto her little boutique business as a matter of pride and a source of self-determination.
That said, she was ruthless. Womankind employed only female staff and specialised in feminine-only products. Bethany was CEO and Head of Marketing, Public Relations, Advertising and Creative. Her Personal Assistant, Bonny Driver, oversaw Support and Account Services and mother also had a team of three Account Executives to manage the individual accounts.
She rented the entire fourth floor of an office suite in Soho and the three ‘Executives’ each had a small private office whilst her own office sprawled across most of the remaining floorspace. Bonny Driver sat at a huge desk outside of the double oak doors leading into Bethany’s office; guarding it like a Rottweiler.
The interior was open plan and roughly divided into Bethany’s work area with a large desk, layout table and stand-up workstation, a conference area with a table and six chairs. The largest area was set aside for entertaining clients with a comfortable white leather lounge and matching chairs, and a large coffee table. There was a small wet bar, a kitchenette and an ensuite bathroom with a small walk-in-robe. The rugs on the carpeted floors were expensive, as was the artwork that decorated the walls. Two large flat-screen TVs were mounted on the walls, one in each of the conference and entertaining areas.
The conference area had a videoconference setup that was quite evident to clients and prospective customers, but unbeknownst to anyone but Bethany and Bonny the office had a series of cameras and microphones installed that enabled Bethany to secretly record video and audio throughout her office. She would often invite prospective clients to use her office to discuss business or consider her proposals ‘in private’ whilst secretly recording them. She also liked to review video of her clients’ reactions to her ad campaigns and business proposals.
All this was unbeknownst to anyone but Bethany and Bonny. Except for me of course.
One of the many undergraduate classes I had attended after I finished my A-Levels was applied computer science and I was quite a geek. It had taken me hardly any time at all to infiltrate Womankind’s computer nexus and access the supposedly secret, restricted access, audio-visual network.
I sat at my computer alternating between the cameras in my mother’s office ensuring that I had complete control of them using an app I had developed and installed on my iphone. I zoomed a camera in on a closeup of my mother’s buxom buttocks and nylon-sheathed thighs as she stood at her workstation. I began to thicken and was tempted to whip out a pair of mother’s discarded pantyhose from my desk drawer and wrap them around my cock but I had more important things to do.
Besides…if my plan worked I would soon be having a lot more fun with mother than just whacking off into her discarded lingerie.
The lift stopped at the fourth floor and opened onto the foyer of Womankind where Bonny Driver sat at her desk, the door to my mother’s office behind her was closed. The three Advertising Executive offices were off to my right and I could hear muffled but expansive phone conversations as mother’s staff worked hard, just as she demanded.
Bonny gave me a look of distain usually reserved by my mother for me, but Bonny was well aware of my mother’s antipathy and derision of me and she followed suit.
Bonny was stunning, a match for my mother in both looks and elegance. They could almost be twins. At forty-two Bonny kept her figure through a regimen of diet and exercise; she was not skinny, rather she had a classic hourglass figure. Her legs were long and shapely and her full breasts remained pert; her body had not been affected by childbirth.
Bonny’s hairstyle was a jet-black shoulder-length bob with a single blue cobalt highlight, her makeup was severe, with black eyeliner, blue and mauve eyeshadow, heavy black mascara, rouged cheeks and bright-red lipstick. Her appearance was almost Goth-like but tempered by a polished dress sense.
She wore a tight-fitting pinstriped power suit, the hem of her skirt resting well above her knees. Her long, shapely legs were sheathed in sheer grey hosiery; her feet were shod in red, patent leather Christian Louboutin high heels.
Bonny was sexy and sophisticated.
Bonny was also a lesbian; a militant lipstick-lesbian who had an equally militant butch-lesbian girlfriend the size of a refrigerator and with a temper to match her flaming short red hair.
“Hello Bonny,” I gave her my best smile.
“What do you want Nathan? You don’t have an appointment and Bethany is far too busy to see you today,” her mouth turned down at me.
I kept walking towards the sacrosanct oak doors and Bonny leapt to her feet and put herself between my mother’s inner sanctum poker oyna and me.
I had used the remote camera app and knew that mother was alone in her office and I was determined that I was going to see her. She didn’t know it but we had important urgent business.
“Is your bull-dyke girlfriend still giving it to you with a strap-on; or is it true that she’s actually grown a penis?” I taunted Bonny, looking for a rise.
“Even without a strap-on I bet she’s got a bigger prong than you,” Bonny teased in return.
“Ok enough with the playful banter Bonny. Let me in to see Bethany; she doesn’t know I’m coming but I’m sure she will see me,” I replied.
Much to Bonny’s surprise that was the case; my mother told Bonny to let me in.
I walked into mother’s cavernous office and closed and locked the door behind me. Me locking the door was not lost on her.
She wore her usual work attire, a navy-blue power-suit with short skirt, her white satin blouse was fully displayed, her suit jacket hung off the back of her office chair. She was standing at her workstation and I had an uninterrupted view of her body. Her full breasts thrust out from her chest, straining the fabric of her blouse, her long legs were clad in ultra-sheer flesh-toned hosiery, her feet shod in black high-heels.
Mother’s hair and makeup were perfect as usual and I felt myself becoming erect in anticipation.
“What the fuck do you want?” she looked at me like dogshit on her shoe.
I walked casually up to workstation whilst manipulating my iphone.
“What I want for you is to transfer five thousand pounds to this account number,” I tossed my phone on her desk.
Bethany’s mouth turned down.
“I knew it would be about the money,” she sighed.
“Oh come on mother; you enjoyed our little soiree in the coffeehouse as much as I did,” I reached out and squeezed a buttock.
Mother snatched my hand away.
“What you made me do was disgusting!” she hissed.
“Just transfer the money and daddy won’t need to know about you and uncle Roger,” I chuckled.
Bethany bought up the webpage for her private bank account on the screen and transferred the funds. As soon as I saw her execute the transfer I snatched up my phone and used my banking app to transfer the money immediately into another account. I didn’t want my mother to know where I kept my money.
“So is that it now Nathan? Have you finished blackmailing your mother?” she said scornfully.
I ignored her; my attention was taken by a package on her desk. The slim rectangular package contained hosiery. There was a picture on the front of the packet of a woman smoothing out the product along her shapely legs.
“Pant-E-Hose,” I read the writing on the packaging.
A prototype for a large advertising poster was arranged on the layout table.
Mother reached out to take the advertising mockup off the layout table but I snatched it away before she could. On the cardboard handbill the same model as on the packaging was smoothing the hosiery around her thighs and buttocks. The gusset of the pantyhose was similar to a control top but it was bikini shaped and darker than the ultra-sheer legs of the hosiery, it was a shimmery coffee-coloured panty.
‘Finally, pantyhose that really are a panty and hosiery all in one,’ the speech balloon emanating from the smiling model’s mouth read.
The slogan at the bottom of the advertisement read:
‘Don’t wear tights – wear Pant-E-Hose! Do away with unsightly visible panty line, leave your knickers in the drawer. Pant-E-Hose combines the sheerest of hosiery with comfortable, sheer, form-flattering panties.’
“Nice product mom. You have the contract to advertise these I take it?” I waved the package of pantyhose at her.
“Yes Nathan. Not that it should matter to you, other than that the labelling will undoubtedly appeal to your fetish,” mother groused.
“I’ve always hated our British use of the term tights; makes me think of those horrible ribbed leggings that the girls wore at school in winter. I much prefer the word pantyhose and I really like these Pant-E-Hose,” I dropped the package on her desk.
“As much as your penchant for hosiery is fascinating to you; I really have some important work to get on with,” mother sighed and indicated the doors.
I took a step forward and closed in on my mother. I could see the fear in her eyes and smell her expensive perfume. She stepped backwards until her back was pressed against her workstation.
“Bethany; my priorities are now your priorities. I thought you would understand that by now,” I waved my phone under her nose; the blackmailing email addressed to father on the screen.
Mother gulped and nodded. Her haughty demeanour was replaced with a look of defeat.
I placed a hand on her leg and smoothed it along her warm sheer-stockinged thigh.
I leaned into her and whispered in her ear.
“Are you wearing them?”
She looked at me confused.
“The Pant-E-Hose. Are you wearing them?” I said for clarification.
Mother canlı poker oyna looked down at her feet and nodded her head imperceptivity.
I squeezed her thigh and said in a demanding tone.
“Are you wearing them?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Let me see,” I nuzzled her ear.
She tried to move her head away from me but I followed her and nipped at her earlobe.
“Behave yourself mother and let me see,” I demanded.
I stepped back to allow her some room.
She kept her head down and began to slowly lift her skirt.
My cock thickened as her shapely, gossamer-clad legs were exposed, and then the darker shimmery panty fabric at the very tops of her thighs and her lower belly.
Mother began to shake.
“This is so degrading Nathan. I thought you had finished with this now that I’ve paid you,” she sobbed.
I pulled her to me and kissed her and despite her struggles she knew better than to drop her skirt. Her body pressed against mine and I could feel her breasts squished against my chest. I slipped my tongue into her mouth briefly.
“You liked what we did in the coffeehouse,” I whispered into her ear.
“You made me like it; you forced me,” she sighed.
I was manoeuvring her towards the white leather lounge, holding her close and making her walk lockstep with me. I allowed her to drop her skirt but she was totally under my control. She stopped when the back of her legs pressed against the lounge.
“Please don’t Nathan. Please don’t degrade me further,” she begged.
I played with my phone, activating the secret cameras using my app, then I put my phone down so that I could give my mother my undivided attention.
I pulled her towards me and kissed her passionately. She struggled in my arms but she was no match for me; in fact her struggles were inflaming my desires. My cock hardened and I was sure that she could feel it pressing into her stomach through my trousers. My hand found her buttocks and squeezed them as I rubbed my cock against her. Mother gasped in my mouth as she felt the girth of my cock thrust against her tight belly.
Mother squirmed and writhed in my grasp, trying to extricate herself from me. My lips were locked on hers and as much as she tried I wouldn’t let her go. I finally let her break the kiss and I smiled down at her wickedly.
“You’re such a pig!” she spat at me.
I leered at her and then reached out and tore open her blouse; the buttons scattered on the floor. I gazed at her magnificent breasts cupped in the white lace and satin brassiere. I wasn’t really a ‘tit man’ per se but they were a splendid example of mammary perfection and I reached out and squeezed them; feeling her nipples harden to my touch.
As much as she wanted to get away from me I had her locked against the couch. My fingers slid inside the cups and caressed her milky white soft flesh and then the dark areolae and finally her engorged nipples. She gasped and fell back on the lounge.
I followed her down, straddling her.
She looked up at me, her mascara smudged by her tears.
“Please stop,” she begged; but her breathing quickened as I caressed her breasts.
I now had both of her globes free of her brassiere and lowered my face and began to suckle them, licking the dark areolae and then softly nibbling on her nipples. Her pleas of restraint became moans of lust as she cradled my head to her breasts. I suckled her teats as my mother writhed beneath me.
“I fucking hate you Nathan,” she gasped as I worked my mouth along the nape of her neck and finally found her mouth.
She willingly opened her lips for me and her tongue found mine as we kissed passionately. I tasted her lipstick and breathed in her perfume; all of my senses inflamed.
Her skirt was rucked up around her waist and I wriggled above my mother as she writhed beneath me. I was forcing her to open her legs and she was trying to keep them closed.
I was lying between my mother’s legs, my groin pressed against hers while I kissed her passionately and fondled her breasts.
I snatched away one hand and worked it between our bodies and unzipped my flies. I freed my erect penis and pressed it against my mother’s belly, it brushed against the cool slippery fabric of her panty and I gasped with delight.
Mother stopped struggling.
“What are you doing Nathan. How dare you! Stay away from there!” she hissed.
I guided her hand down to my erect penis and her fingers closed around it reluctantly.
“I’ll give you another handjob Nathan but that’s all we are doing,” she sighed.
I said nothing but I gasped as my mother took my erect penis in her hand and slowly began to masturbate me. I immediately began to leak pre-ejaculate, which my mother used to lubricate my penis as she feathered her fingers up and down the shaft and over the bulbous glans.
I crushed my lips against hers and drove my tongue into my mother’s mouth; I sipped her sweet breath. Mother was still squirming beneath me, not yet fully compliant internet casino as my fingers explored her fleshy thighs. I drifted them up to her warm, silky crotch and she froze.
“No Nathan! Not again!” she gasped as I pressed a finger along the outline of her vagina through the velvety panty fabric.
But once again her body was not complying with her consciousness’s wishes; I could feel the first scintilla of moisture wet my fingertip.
“Oh no! Please stop,” my mother gasped.
But she gripped me harder and stroked my cock vigorously and kissed me deeply.
I worked my fingers into the diaphanous panty material; it clung to my mother’s shaven mound. I could feel the fat outer lips of her labia majora and then the delicate inner lips protecting the entrance to her vagina and shrouding her clitoris. I gently pushed the translucent panty against her clitty and began to delicately caress the little nubbin, using a circular motion.
Mother shuddered and squeezed my cock harder.
“You bastard!” she hissed.
She opened her legs wider to accommodate me and allow full access to her sex. Once again I had defeated her and overcome her reluctance. Now I intended to take our masturbatory tryst further. I knew that mother would resist with all her will but I wanted more. I wanted to feel my cock pushing on her cunt through her delicate, luxurious, silken pantyhose.
I quickly snatched her hand away from cock and mine away from her pussy and pressed my groin into hers.
Mother instinctively clamped her legs around me, which was the opposite of what she should have done. My cock grazed across mother’s sleek, satiny mound, the feel was amazing. I had masturbated with my mother’s pantyhose and panties before but now I actually had my cock pressing into her pantyhose-clad cunt and the sensation was astounding. I tried my hardest not to come.
“No! No! No!” my mother writhed and wriggled under me.
Her hands beat on my back and her legs kicked out. The silly bitch didn’t realise that this only further stimulated me and my cock pressed into her labia, I could actually feel her cunt lips wrapped around my cock through the gauzy layer of panty.
I ripped off my own shirt and pulled down my jeans to my knees whilst my mother whined and fought beneath me then I lowered my face back to hers and chased her lips. I crushed my mouth against hers, tasting lipstick and saliva as my tongue invaded her mouth. My hands found her breasts and tweaked her hard nipples as the glans of my penis rubbed against her clitoris.
“You fucking bastard!” mother squealed, but she knew she was defeated.
She surrendered and her tongue found mine, her nipples hardened and her cunt began to ooze vaginal secretions, which soon soaked the gusset of her pantyhose.
My mother wrapped her legs around me as I began to fuck her through her pantyhose, my cock shrouded in the sleek, glossy pantyhose fabric pressed against her sensitive clitoris and inner cunt lips.
As I got into rhythm my mother clung to me, meeting my thrusts, her nylon-clad legs rubbed on my tender flesh, sending ripples of delight through my body. My cock was throbbing, the exquisite sensations emanating from my tender glans and sleek shaft were driving me to peak.
Mother slavered at my mouth and raked her fingers along my back as her own orgasm approached.
I pushed hard and the tip of cock entered her vagina, still sheathed in delicate pantyhose fabric. I only managed to get about an inch of my phallus inside my mother but it was enough.
I orgasmed and copious amounts of hot semen ejaculated from my pulsing, hard cock.
Mother screamed and drummed her high-heels on my back as she orgasmed in concert with me. She pushed her buttocks up off the couch, forcing as much as my cock as her pantyhose would allow inside her, the shaft rubbed on her clitoris and drove her maniacal as she simultaneously kissed me, hugged me, then beat me and bit me.
“Oh you fucking cunt Nathan! I fucking hate you; you fucking monster! Now fuck me! Fuck your mother!” she howled.
My semen was flooding her cunt, soaking into her pantyhose as my cock continued to convulse. I could feel the outer ring of her vagina throbbing, milking me of my seed as mother came too.
After what seemed like an eternity we both lay still; panting and sweating and quivering now and then as the last of our climaxes subsided.
Mom was sobbing quietly; her head down. She couldn’t look at me; she felt ashamed of herself.
I picked up her leg and wiped my deflating penis on her calf; the residue of my semen and her vaginal secretions soaked into her pantyhose, darkening the sheer fabric. When she realised what I’d done she snatched back her leg.
I pulled up my pants and buttoned my shirt, Bethany lay on the lounge with her skirt still hiked up, her panty crotch a sodden mess of semen and cunny juice, her breasts exposed, her brassiere askew and her blouse ripped open. Crying had ruined her makeup and her hair was a mess.
I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
I sauntered over to her ensuite bathroom and opened her small walk-in wardrobe. I pulled a freshly pressed blouse off the hanger and went by her desk and picked up the packet of Pant-E-Hose off her desk.
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