Mommy's Stockings 1-18

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 12:36:57

This post was last edited by ptc077 on 2019-08-08 at 06:10
. Foreword

There's a saying, "Rome wasn't built in a day," meaning many things accumulate gradually. Looking back, I wonder if some decisions in my life would have prevented certain events.

However, I'm certain that many things that happened later might seem strange, terrible, or unbelievable to most people. But I have no regrets about these unspeakable things; in fact, I enjoy them immensely.

I was born into a family of four. My parents were ordinary office workers, and I have an older sister who is two years older than me
. What's unusual is that my father is of average appearance, not tall or handsome, while my mother is a stunningly beautiful woman, 172cm tall (even
taller than my father), with curves in all the right places. When I was little, I always found it strange that my
mom, who wasn't considered handsome, would marry my dad. But as I grew up, I realized that my dad was a very hardworking man. To provide
a better life for the family, he often traveled for work or worked late into the night, almost ruining his health. Because of
this, my mom often told my sister and me to be obedient and to be filial to our dad when we grew up. I heard these words many times since I was little,
and I remembered them. However, the way I showed filial piety to my dad when I grew up wasn't quite right.

As for me, as the saying goes, like father, like son. Unfortunately, I inherited most of my physical characteristics from my dad.
I'm not tall, and I'm not handsome. Although I'm not ugly, I look like a younger version of my dad. My sister, on
the other hand, inherited my mom's good genes. She was taller and more pretty than her peers from a young age, and was considered the best future daughter-in-law by the neighbors.
When the neighbors came to visit, they would often jokingly suggest that my sister should marry their son. At first glance
, it seems that God is unfair. How can children born to the same parents have such different genes? One is a beauty, and the other
is just average? However, much later I learned that although my appearance was what it was, everyone
has their own strengths and weaknesses.

1. Early Life

My growth was full of various accidental encounters and bad examples. I don't know where I started
going astray, or maybe I was never on the right track. My earliest memory is probably from kindergarten. Our
kindergarten class had a nominal main teacher who was mainly responsible for our class. Our teacher
had just graduated from university and was very inexperienced when she came to teach us. We snotty-nosed little kids caused her
a lot of trouble. Although I wasn't particularly cute back then, I was very obedient and always followed
the teacher around. So the teacher took good care of me and let me follow her around like a little shadow. Sometimes I would
even follow her when she said she needed to go to the toilet! Although the teacher was a little embarrassed, she let me follow, but she said I had to look
outside because boys can't watch girls pee. I would follow behind the teacher with my back to her and wait for her to finish using
the toilet.

I always clung to my teacher, following her around like glue, and even though I was short, I loved to hug her legs. Sometimes she wore
skirts—of course, in kindergarten, you couldn't dress too glamorously, just long, knee-length skirts with nude stockings.
So when I hugged her legs, I ended up hugging her stockinged legs. I just thought her stockings were shiny
and pretty, and they felt so nice to touch. When she was telling stories, I'd keep touching her
stockinged calves.

Maybe it was because I was young, but she never stopped me, just treating me like a clingy little brat.

But now I think that's when I started to think stockings were something special and embarked on
the path of a stocking fetish—not only did I love looking at them, but I also loved touching them. Of all my teachers, I only liked to cling to my homeroom teacher, not only because she was
younger and prettier, but also because she often wore stockings, which felt very comfortable to touch for a child still exploring the world
.

But despite touching, I was too young to have any lustful thoughts at that time. However, it's fair to say that
the teacher wearing stockings planted a seed that grew crooked in my young mind.

2. First Encounter with Nudity

One of the differences between boys and girls is that girls develop earlier than boys. Many girls are
almost fully developed by fifth or sixth grade, while boys don't finish developing until high school or later. When I
was in fifth grade, my older sister was already in first grade. My sister, who was already quite tall, was over 160 cm,
and her figure was quite developed. Her breasts and buttocks were already beyond what her junior high school uniform could cover. Compared to
me, who was still struggling to reach just over 140 cm, I was skinny and looked terrible.

The first naked girl I could remember seeing was my sister. It was
a family trip for the four of us. We stayed in a room with two large beds. My parents slept in one bed, and my sister and I slept in the other.
Let me clarify, at that time, I didn't particularly want to see my sister's body, because I didn't really understand. The situation arose
because my parents needed to go outside the hotel to buy some necessities, and it was getting late, almost dinner time.
Before going downstairs, they told my sister and me to quickly shower because we were going out for dinner soon. Because we were in a hurry,
after my parents went downstairs, my sister pulled me into the bathroom to shower, and I stupidly took off my clothes and went into the bathroom
.

My sister quickly took off her clothes, and for me, who was only in fifth grade at the time, it was a completely shocking
visual impact. My sister, who had already entered puberty, had two breasts that had become two firm, teardrop-
shaped orbs (I later learned that she was already a D cup at that time), which swayed slightly with her movements
. Her skin was also delicate and smooth due to the secretion of female hormones, and there was a little sparse hair between her legs
. The water flowing over her full breasts and slender waist looked especially beautiful. At that time, I probably
couldn't find any decent adjectives in my mind. I just thought my sister's curvaceous body was incredibly beautiful,
like an angel to me, someone who had never seen a naked woman before.

My sister held the showerhead high and sprayed water on my head. Being a head shorter, I was directly facing her
breasts. Seeing something so beautiful for the first time, I was completely mesmerized, staring at them. My sister
's hands were lathering me with shower gel (I could shower by myself long ago), and her breasts
trembled slightly with each movement. Looking at those breasts, I felt a strong urge to touch them, but at that time
I had absolutely no knowledge of sex; it was just a primal instinct driving me. The visual impact...
With each thrust, my penis rose uncontrollably, blood rushing into
the corpora cavernosa of my young penis with each powerful heartbeat until it was as hard as it could possibly be. My sister, having finished lathering my upper body, was preparing
to lather my lower body when she saw my erect penis. She stared wide-eyed for a moment, wondering whether to
reach down and lather it, when my parents came in from outside carrying things. My sister, snapping out of her daze,
told me to lather it myself and then turned to rinse herself off.

My heart pounding, I was inexplicably incredibly nervous. I quickly finished my shower and went out
for dinner with the family. But during dinner, my mind was still lingering on my sister's beautiful figure as she showered. That beautiful image
was etched deeply into my mind like a brand, making me completely distracted while eating, constantly stealing glances at my sister
's pretty face and full breasts.

When it was bedtime and I was sleeping in the same bed with my sister, the thought of taking a bath with her before dinner made
my heart race and I couldn't fall asleep. It was already quite late, and my mother and sister
quickly drifted off to sleep with steady breathing (my father was snoring), leaving me the only one awake.

I turned towards my sister, who had been staring at the ceiling, and found her with her back to me, seemingly asleep
and motionless. At that moment, the urge to touch my sister's breasts returned, though the angel
and devil within me were struggling. Suddenly, my sister turned to face me, startling me. However, with her eyes closed, she seemed to
be sleeping soundly. Seeing the slight rise and fall of her breasts under her white t-shirt instantly
won over my inner demon. I looked at her collar, trying to peek up, but because her breasts were large, the shirt
was a bit tight, and I couldn't see above the collar. Driven by lust, I crawled under the blanket my sister and I shared
, carefully lifting her t-shirt from her waist up. Seeing
the lower edge of her full breasts already thrilled me; she wasn't wearing a bra!

As I slowly lifted it to her nipples, her breasts
bounced like bouncy puddings as the t-shirt pulled on them. Even in the darkness, I couldn't see her breasts clearly
, but it already excited me immensely. My hand trembled slightly as I reached out and gently poked
her smooth breast. After confirming she wasn't awake, I slowly covered one of her rounded
nipples with my palm, feeling the impact of this beautiful feminine feature. My right hand slowly kneaded my sister's breasts
, and I thought to myself, "Oh my god, how can they feel so good?" I felt so excited. My penis was fully erect
, pressing forward against my shorts, almost touching my sister's thigh.

Just as I was lost in the wonderful sensation of gently kneading my sister's breasts, my sister's body trembled,
and then she suddenly reached out from under the covers and grabbed my right hand, which startled me. I quickly pulled my hand back from hers
. As I peeked out from under the covers, I noticed that my sister had turned to the other side
, her back to me. I didn't know if she was awake or not. Feeling guilty, I also turned my back to my sister, pretending nothing was wrong,
my heart pounding with nervousness. After confirming that my sister wasn't moving, I looked back at her again
and saw that she was still facing away from me. Only then did I feel more at ease, suppressing my lustful thoughts and falling into a deep sleep.

Nothing happened after that. I don't know if she woke up that night, or if
the action of grabbing my hand was just an unconscious act in her sleep. But anyway, it's over and done with. I got my fill of "tofu,"
and everything between me and my sister was normal. She didn't have any special reaction.

3. Stockings Again

About a year later, when I was in sixth grade, my mother's original job at the trading company had some job transfers
. My mother, who wasn't happy with her job, left and joined a new company. The original company
didn't have any dress code requirements, but the new company was in the banking industry, and large corporations have regulations on uniforms and dress codes. In addition to a very
tight-fitting pencil skirt uniform, it was also required to wear black stockings. The first day my mother
came home wearing her uniform and black stockings, I stared at her, as if the sheer black stockings on her legs had awakened
a long-forgotten hosiery fetish that I hadn't had since kindergarten. That night, no matter where my mother went at home, my
eyes were fixed on her long, beautiful legs in black stockings.

That evening, I kept praising my mom, saying how beautiful their uniforms were. Mom happily agreed, saying she thought so too, but...
it was a little tight (quite noticeably around the chest and hips). I usually walk to school by myself in the mornings,
but that night I asked my mom to give me a ride because she's so pretty and I wanted to show her off to my classmates. Mom was overjoyed and agreed
, wanting her son to look good.

Usually, Dad drives the car to work, but Mom's workplace is closer, so she rides a motorcycle. I sat
on the back, my arms around Mom's slender waist. Even through her clothes, touching her body felt wonderful. I kept
peeking at her legs, bathed in sunlight, in sheer black stockings, and it made me feel refreshed.

Because I was sitting on the back of the motorcycle, my thighs, wearing school shorts, were also wrapped around Mom's hips, which were clad in a tight skirt, from behind
. Especially because Mom's skirt was so narrow, it rode up a bit more on the motorcycle seat
, exposing even more of her thighs. My legs were pressed against my mother's
buttocks, which were encased in a tight skirt, my eyes restlessly fixed on her beautiful legs in stockings, as I sat behind her.

A year ago, seeing my older sister's naked body and her pert breasts had begun my awakening
, and I, too, started to react to sex. Even if I didn't know exactly what to do, I knew that touching a woman's body was stimulating .

While our motorcycle was waiting at a red light, I moved my hand from my mother's waist to her thigh,
gently pinching her stockinged thigh as if adjusting my seat, but actually enjoying
the feel of the stockings on my hand.

The skin on my mother's legs, through the thin stockings, felt slightly warm and silky, instantly sending
a tingling, electric sensation through my palms, and my penis in my pants also reacted, gradually hardening and
slowly pressing against my mother's buttocks from behind. Because I wasn't bold enough to press completely against her, my mother probably didn't notice
that my penis was pressing against her buttocks from behind through her clothes. During the ride, besides accelerating, I would occasionally...
Knowing when to brake, I followed the motorcycle's movement, gripping my mother's slender waist and sliding back and forth slightly. Although it wasn't intentional,
the movement of my hips pressing against my mother's buttocks gave me a real, stimulating sensation.

When we reached the school gate and were about to get off, I rolled off and simultaneously placed my hand on my mother's stockinged thigh
, touching it. That morning, I enjoyed the wonderful feel of stockings one last time, then
entered the school gate amidst the envious gazes of my classmates (and their fathers).

4. Masturbation

Back then, I didn't understand much; I only knew that looking at girls' bodies and stockings, and touching my mother's stockings, felt good.
Even when I got an erection, at first it just felt a little swollen, but I didn't know how to release it. Until
one day, a bully in my class secretly circulated a small book of pornographic comics in the class, and I began to understand that...
that thing down there could be played with. I borrowed a comic book from a classmate and read about the exaggerated scenes and
physical contact in the erotic comics. My penis would become fiercely erect because of the scenes in the book. I also imitated
the actions of the female characters in the comics who helped the male characters masturbate, and that's how I learned to masturbate without any instruction.

At first, my penis would just throb with pleasure from orgasm, and a little bit of clear
fluid would seep out from the tip. Then, as I masturbated more and more, the fluid that came out each time I felt good became more and more abundant
and thicker. What was originally just a slow seepage became an increasingly powerful ejaculation from my urethra.

Initially, I masturbated by reading comic books, but later I remembered that touching my sister's breasts could also make me masturbate, and finally it became
masturbating by reminiscing about the feel of touching my mother's stockings; from anything that could arouse my sexual desire, to almost always
fantasizing about the women around me, namely my mother. When I read the sex scenes in erotic comics, I would think that it
would be great to have sex with women, preferably someone like my mother with a good figure and wearing stockings.

Back then, I had no concept of morality (and I don't think I still do). When I first explored desire
, all I cared about was pleasure; who the object of my affections was irrelevant. I just didn't usually have the courage to touch my mother's
stockinged legs. Only occasionally, when she drove me to school in the morning, could I pretend to accidentally touch them. That short
commute became the time I looked forward to most each day. My mother didn't seem to care; she just thought her son
had touched them unintentionally. What she didn't know was that I was actually driven by lust. Every time I touched her, I'd get an erection, and after school,
I'd rush to the toilet to masturbate. If I rode home on my mother's motorcycle, I'd also curl
up and ejaculate as soon as I got home.

While masturbating, I'd want to find something to enhance the experience. So I would observe
how my mother usually wore stockings. If she wore a pair that had snagged, there would usually be a pair of worn black stockings in the bathroom trash can that night
. I would steal them, put them in my pocket, and take them back to my room. At first, I would masturbate by smelling the stockings, her private parts, and her toes—
a very aphrodisiac feminine scent mixed with leather. Just smelling it would make me hard immediately. Later, I would put my hand inside the stockings
and hold my penis while masturbating. Finally, I would directly put the stockings over my penis and masturbate while masturbating, then ejaculate
inside the stockings. After ejaculating, I would switch to a section that wasn't wet and continue masturbating.
I could ejaculate three or four times on each leg of a pair of stockings, and the whole pair would be used up in about two or three days, after which the entire pair of stockings would dry and harden.

Usually, by then, I could find a new pair in the bathroom, so I would wrap up the old ones and throw them away, then
put on a new pair of stockings and continue masturbating.

After playing with the snagged stockings that were left in the bathroom for a while, I would want to take the ones my mother hadn't thrown away yet, the ones she was still wearing. So
, when no one was home, I would go to my mother's room and rummage through her closet drawers. My mother would roll up her worn, washed stockings
into balls and put them in one of the drawers. I would take them out, put them on my penis, and vigorously masturbate until I was close to orgasm before pulling them off and
ejaculating on the floor. Because my mother would wear them again, the pleasure of the orgasm was even more intense. Sometimes, after
only a few strokes, I felt the stimulation and was about to ejaculate, but I dared not ejaculate directly inside, for fear of being discovered. Sometimes,
it was so pleasurable that I almost didn't have time to pull the stockings off, and I would spray the first drop inside the stockings, or some secretions
would get on them. I would then take out toilet paper to wipe it off. Usually, hot semen wasn't difficult to wipe off;
just a little water would reduce the residue considerably. As long as I cleaned it up before it completely dried, it wouldn't be very noticeable. The more
familiar I became with them, the more I masturbated with my mother's stockings almost every day, whether they were snagged and thrown away or were still meant to be worn
. I would masturbate at least three or four times a day.

They asked if I ever used my mom's underwear to masturbate. I did try, but because I love the feel of stockings,
I ended up using stockings instead. At first, masturbation involved recalling the feel of my mom's stockinged thighs. Later, it involved fantasizing about
inserting my penis directly into my mom's vagina, like in comics, ideally with her wearing stockings and then tearing them open for sex.

My thoughts became increasingly erotic while masturbating. Looking back,
it's quite exaggerated that a sixth-grade kid would want to have sex with his mother.

5. Intimate Contact

My mom, who didn't often wear stockings when I was little, started wearing them regularly after switching to banking. Besides always wearing
sheer black stockings to work, she also started wearing them casually. Besides black, sometimes
she wore sheer nude stockings, sometimes off-white stockings, or iron gray/light gray stockings. The common
feature was that they were all ultra-thin, so her fair skin could be seen through the stockings, creating a subtly
sexy effect. As I grew older, the days passed, and I became more and more aroused by seeing my mother's
beautiful legs in stockings, especially when her hips were encased in a tight skirt or short skirt, paired with various colors of sheer
stockings, which was even more exciting.

However, I was the kind of person who was all lust and no guts. Apart from secretly touching her thighs and occasionally masturbating,
I didn't dare to do anything else. The real world is different from pornographic comics and novels. It's not like if you touch a woman's butt,
she'll want to have sex, or if you walk up to a woman with an erection, she'll open her eyes wide and suck your penis. Back then
, despite my lust, I still had some common sense and rationality (although my common sense didn't include the fact that I couldn't have sexual fantasies about my mother)

. I knew that such things were impossible, and I basically didn't dare to touch my mother's body or her stockinged legs.
I would sneak a touch on her thigh while sitting on the back of her motorcycle, put my arm around her waist, and sit slightly behind her, pressing my genitals against her buttocks. That
was probably the limit of my groping of my mother. Therefore, my mother probably took it for granted that she ignored these things.
Slight touching, after all, some physical contact between mother and son isn't considered excessive.

For a long time, I was satisfied with simply stealing my mother's discarded stockings to masturbate.
If I had the chance to sneak into my mother's room to steal stockings to masturbate, although I couldn't ejaculate inside openly, it
was still very exciting.

This sneaky little pervert behavior changed when I was in the second year of junior high school. At that time, I was starting
to enter puberty; my voice began to change, I grew a little taller (although still quite short), and pubic
hair started to grow. The main reason for this was that my sister's high school was a bit far from home, and considering the
long commute each day, commuting to school was too tiring. Therefore, my parents enrolled my sister in the school
dormitory, where she could live nearby and go to school, returning home only when she had more free time during holidays.

High school dormitories don't require much luggage, but after packing clothes, a computer, and some miscellaneous items,
the trunk of my father's car was still full, and some other things needed to be piled on the back seat. The day I helped my sister move her things over
, our whole family pitched in (though Dad and I did most of the physical labor). My sister gets carsick in the back seat
, so she sat in the front passenger seat. After piling the things on the left side of the back seat, I got in
. There wasn't enough room for Mom, so she had to squeeze in with me. We initially wanted to sit side-by-side, but it was too cramped
. Mom adjusted her position and decided it would be better if we sat front-to-back. Since she had a map and needed to help with directions
, she sat in front of me. Later, realizing there wasn't enough space, she simply sat on my lap.

That day, because Mom didn't do much moving, she didn't wear comfortable pants. Instead, she wore her
favorite short skirt and almost transparent, sheer nude stockings. They were so thin they looked like she wasn't
wearing anything, but they gave her legs a slightly sheer, shimmering effect. Before,
I was usually the one sitting in the back of Mom, but suddenly Mom was sitting on my lap. I was already used to getting an erection riding my mom's motorcycle, but this
time I was even harder. My penis was practically pressing against her genitals through her skirt.

As the motorcycle moved forward, it bounced up and down, and my mom would bounce slightly as it passed through a hole. My dad told me
to hold my mom properly. So I placed my hands on my mom's stockinged thighs from below, gently pressing down on her
legs.

I'd never been so directly in contact with my mom's beautiful stockinged legs before, and with my penis pressing directly against her lower body,
I was incredibly hard. The sensation from my hands was like an electric current, making my heart
race.

My mom seemed to feel my erect penis pressing against her buttocks, occasionally shifting her hips
to try and adjust her position, which seemed to massage my penis with her beautiful buttocks, making me
incredibly aroused. My mom was wearing a tight, short skirt that day, and after shifting a few times while sitting on me, the skirt was
completely lifted up above her buttocks. Mom initially tried to pull her skirt back up, but after several attempts, she
found it kept springing back up,

so she gave up. Because I needed to help move things, I wore very breathable shorts. The already thin material
made my penis very noticeable against Mom's genitals. The excessive erection and the pressure made me
uncomfortable, so I slightly pulled down my shorts to adjust them. But adjusting them
only made my entire penis pop out from under my underwear and the top of my shorts. Initially, only the tip was visible, but after a few bounces
, the whole thing was stretched out. Since Mom's skirt was already up to her buttocks, my penis was now
pressing directly against her vulva through her stockings and underwear.

Because of its shape, heat, and hardness, it was quite obvious; Mom probably noticed that my erect
penis was almost directly against her genitals. I could feel my mother's body tense up instantly,
and my hand gripping her stockinged legs noticed her thighs clench tightly, as if she knew our genitals were already
incredibly close. I didn't intend to sexually harass my mother, but our position and posture
were truly dangerous, especially since I had only recently retracted my foreskin, exposing my glans, which was extremely sensitive.
The entire glans was pressing directly against my mother's stockings, both sensitive and incredibly stimulating.

The stimulation was so intense that I felt overly excited with the car's bounces, gripping my mother's stockinged
thighs tightly, afraid to move. But even without moving, the stimulation from my mother's stockinged buttocks was overwhelming. My
penis rubbed against her genitals through the sheer stockings, creating a feeling of impending explosion between my legs. I
knew I was about to ejaculate, but I was powerless to resist. After a bouncy ride through a hole,
I grabbed my mother's thighs, clad in sheer flesh-colored stockings, and thrust from below,
pressing my swollen glans against the stockings at her genitals, ejaculating the most powerful ejaculation of my life. With each spasm
, I felt the semen continuously spraying onto my mother's genitals. She must have felt
it too, because her body tensed up as she quickly opened the car window on our side to let the smell of semen dissipate. After ejaculating,

I was almost completely exhausted, only able to cling tightly to my mother's stockinged thighs.

Fortunately, the car was almost at its destination. My mother quickly pulled out some tissues from her bag to cover her genitals,
preventing the semen from dripping. She also gave me some to wipe my penis, then rushed out of the car to find a restroom
to deal with the situation. I covered my genitals with my bag and rushed to the bathroom to clean myself up. The semen was a
mess, and wiping took forever. My mom even took off her sheer stockings, otherwise the ejaculation
would have been too obvious. My dad and sister probably thought we needed to defecate, otherwise why would it take so long
? But at least they didn't realize anything had happened.

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