Stocking Tops Pt. 05

CHAPTER 1

Sheila Krug looked over the top of her wine glass at his husband's business partner, a riot of thoughts plunging through her mind. Naughty -- nay, disgusting thoughts. She brazenly lifted a hand across her left breast and slowly plucked at the nipple beneath her gown, sending sensations of the very wrong kind through the body of the mother of two alone with a married man who was not her own.

She sighed and dropped the hand from its futile gesture. If that had been noticed Lee Peach had not indicated it. Just a lick of his lips would have cheered her. That's all she wanted, to be cheered. She had no desire to be fucked by Lee, did she? Sheila was surprised; why had she finished that last thought with a question?

In the five years Lee and wife Claire and Sheila and husband James had been together in Sydney after Claire and Lee's wedding in England, Lee had only gotten into her pants once. Well figuratively because she hadn't been wearing any. That was four years ago after their fledging advertising agency won it's first national award, best new product launch. Now what was it, she thought playfully...tinned cat food...um soap...no, well what was it? Oh yes, Mr Stocking Tops Peach had convinced the Meyer chain of department stores to import a line of very narrow striped stockings. The multiple-color vertical stripes came in five colors and the line had combinations of 100 colors to choose from.

The company ignored advice and gave James an advertising budget of $10,000 when he and Lee had sought $30,000. The company rejected the campaign the partners had proposed claiming it wouldn't work. The agency did little business with Meyer so Lee went ahead and placed the unauthorized ads in the two top magazines popular with teenage girls and some young women, having to add $5800 of his own money for two ads to run in two consecutive issues of each magazine. Meyer advertising management was furious and initially said it would refused to pay when billed, but when the company's stock of 15,000 packs of the stockings sold out in three days of the first ad appearing 250,000 more packs were airlifted in from France.

Meyer gave Aussie Battler Advertising Agency a new budget of $50,000 and a list of newspapers and magazines that the advertisement, unchanged, was to be placed with. At that stage the agency, known as ABA Advertising, had a total staff of twelve (including Claire and Sheila who worked for pocket money on the promise of salaries, to be back-paid when the company struck it rich).

Like many great ads, the wording was starkly simple. The partners had a teenage model in big-selling Meyer pinafore, wearing the stockings with her legs bowed, and sucking a finger. There was no heading, just the wording, 'Mummy will space out if she sees me in these ghastly stockings.' Below that was the Meyer logo.

Before long the rush was on. At last younger people had something to wear of their own because older women truly hated the ghastly stockings. At the end of the year the stockings came in fourth in the Consumer Market Survey of Australia's Best New Products of the Year.

As Sheila recalled, well after midnight after receiving the award trophy, James, Lee, Claire and she were in the Peach's spa pool. She remembered through the alcoholic haze being fucked by her husband and being tapped on the shoulder by Claire. She rolled over and received something she'd long wanted -- Lee's big one, up as far as it would go. She recalled bellowing in delight, setting off neighbor's dogs.

Back from day-dreaming she looked at Lee who was reading. Last evening at the advertising awards they'd picked up five gongs and that was a real credit to her people (Sheila was now on salary with the title of office manager; Claire was company secretary). That morning Claire and James, at the request of the advertising association's president, had taken the American guest speaker and his wife into the Blue Mountains. James had earlier been acting as host for American and his wife had really taken to Claire because they shared an interest in quilt making.

"They will be away all day, won't they?"

"Yes Sheila, you know they will."

She and Lee were dressed waiting to go to lunch. Pinching her nipple again Sheila asked, "What do you want to do?"

They were lounging on the hotel balcony as it was the practice of the two couples to book into the downtown hotel even when the awards evening was held in their hometown.

"Dunno, something or anything."

"You are losing your English accent."

"Is that a crime and why aren't you wearing a bra?"

"Because the cut of the bodice holds me quite well and the very low back would show bra straps."

"Oh," he said, obviously loosing interest and returning to read the sports section in the Sunday newspaper.

God, thought Sheila, he was becoming more Australian than most Aussies. Well if she wanted satisfaction she'd have to have to play with herself in the bath.

Angrily she sat on the edge of her chair, pulling her hem way over her knees as she prepared to rise and go run a bath.

"Hold it."

Sheila looked at Lee. He'd tossed down his paper and was staring at her thighs.

"You look juicy."

Well that comment almost made her very juicy. She had the presence of mind to open her legs wider and ask did he like the view.

"Yes, very much. You've back to your gorgeous shape since having your last baby."

She juiced and said softly, "Her name is Matilda, honorary Uncle Lee."

"Sorry -- you've regained your figure since having Matilda."

"Thank you. Come into the bedroom and suck my stocking tops Lee."

He was off his chair in a flash and stood politely at the doorway leading into James and Sheila's bedroom. She made him wait, taking off her new dress and folding it, taking off her shoes and placing them together neatly and smiling as she heard the rate of his breathing rising. She then removed her bra.

"No need to remove that."

"Well I need to have something to play with while you are doing that boring stuff with my stocking stops," she said, hoping to get the full treatment. She enjoyed watching the horrified look creep up his face following her reference to boring.

She flopped on to the bed, knowing he'd be looking at titty bounce. He was and their gazes locked. She knew then she'd be fucked as well as licked.

Sheila recalled hours after the wedding when drinking champers with his mother, Victoria telling her about her son's fetish for licking stocking tops. But Victoria said if he ever tried her out she should demand the full treatment. Victoria, who was drunk but there was genuine passion in her voice: 'In all my adult life nobody has come close to making me come like my son does'. Sheila had been too drunk to be appalled.

* * *

Lee genuinely liked Sheila. He knew her legs were outclassed by his wife's and parts of her skin looked rough in places, unlike Claire's still almost perfect, slightly olive skin with the only bumps being two beautiful ones. Still he was aroused and Claire wasn't around, was she? Grinning at Sheila, really getting into the swing of sex by stretching a nipple in her teeth by pushing her breast away a little, he undressed quickly, gave his erection a couple of good pulls, noting Sheila was all eyes, and then lifted her left leg up and sucked the smaller toes while rubbing his erection with his free hand up and down her stocking. He heard her breathing become louder.

Almost fifteen minutes later when Lee was up at the stocking tops, soaking them in saliva through heavy licking, he could see the glistening of moisture on the light fuzz and as he watched she leaked a flow of juice.

Lee leered: "Are you ready to be fucked my treasure?"

"Oh god yes," said Sheila, whose head was flopping from side to side as she desperately wanted something up her cunt. She knew she could jam her fingers up it, but he might not like that; some men acted as if it were exclusively their property during such moments.

His tongue touched the flesh between her legs just above the stocking tops. She felt herself dribble down there and suddenly she was slammed by and explosion of sensations and she blew all over the side of his face, unable to prevent that happened.

"Oh fuck, sorry."

"It's okay. It proves to me you are alive and enjoying it."

Oh the darling man. Her heart welled for him.

He came right up to her and held his dripping face close to her mouth. She dutifully licked it clean, kidding herself the taste was like exotic fruits of the tropics.

Lee then pulled right up to her and commanded, "Make it wet before I push it in below."

She generated saliva and then coated it from tip to balls thinking, in the irrational way one does at such moments, that this was one of the greatest moments of her entire life.

Lee shuffled back down, she pulled her knees up higher and spread wide and he fed in his cock. It just seemed to go on and on and off she blew again when there was still more to go. How disgusting. Oh yeah? How wonderful. He felt so big she thought it was as if his hand and wrist were up her.

They just started on missionary when he disconnected and flipped her and pulled her into doggy. This she liked because he reached under her and tugged and squeezed her tits until she felt she was walking up the bedroom wall. She squeezed and he fired, slamming her against the bed-head as the convulsions began. No shortage of semen with this guy.

They showered and went down for lunch, going light on the drinks, and after a good rest were back doing it again. She wanted it in the butt. They tried, sweating and groaning, but no use. She was too excited at the thought of getting it there, because James wasn't that was inclined. She was unable to relax. Perhaps it wasn't meant to happen?

They rested and when Sheila called for a linen change they went to Lee's room and they went at it over the sofa. After, still sprawled over the back of the sofa she lifted her head and saw he was standing back, studying her.

"What is it?" she yawned.

"Just a magnificent view I want to remember -- I'm looking a our liquids oozing out and running over your stocking top."

"Well, good for you. We ought to do this occasionally -- yes?"

"Yeah, how about once a year for as long as we can agree it's worthwhile?"

"Yes, what a lovely way of expressing it Lee and I'll promise to always wear stockings when we do it. If more men appreciated women in stockings like you do, I do declare the world would be a better place."

"Perhaps. You've been very lovely to me today Shelia. Look, have a shower and by that time the maids would have finished with your room. You can sleep until the others get back. I'll have a nap as well as remember it will be a lively dinner tonight, the president's dinner for principals of the award winning agencies and partners."

That evening the American guest speaker took a keen interest in Lee. James had been telling Hal Evans that their small agency's success had been partly due to remaining small -- current staffing was thirty-two -- and being driven by creative rather than management. The other contributor to success was Lee's refusal to accept any new account unless he believed in the product because when he believed his mind seemed to go up a notch and he switched from management to creative and led the team discussion on possible angles to exploit, his mind appearing to become visionary.

So Hal spoke at length to Lee, sitting beside him at dinner. When Hal went to sit with someone else Hal's place was taken by his wife Frances, who although almost fifty, reminded Lee of his mother. Frances said to him to open the conversation, "You beautiful wife Claire mentioned you have a fetish about stockings?"

Lee grinned, "Well to tell you the truth until this morning I thought I had been growing out of it but experienced something of a revival when unexpectedly glimpsing a stocking top."

"Oh how marvelous for you. I have this dream, never realized, of having my stockings licked and then the gentleman masturbating over my stocking legs," Frances whispered. "Of course that is never to be. I'm too old now and if I told Hal about that dream he would be disgusted. We live within the so-called bible belt."

"It's not about age, it's about stockings," Lee whispered. "Stockings transcend age but admittedly it does help to have lovely thighs. My mother is a little older than you and I'm sure her legs would appeal to many men and heaps more if encased in stockings."

"Oh god, you give me hope Lee."

"It's a pity you leave late tonight."

"Lee, that is one of the nicest things a guy has ever said to me. I wish you the best of luck in business."

"And you work towards achieving that dream Frances. Work toward making it happen and then believe in it and it will happen. You can't do any more than that."

"Thank you Lee. That's good advice. Your president's wife is beckoning so I must go to her. Goodbye. I have always worn stockings since a young teenager."

"With more women thinking like you do Frances, the world would be a better place."

Lee watched Frances almost float away.

* * *

The meeting of senior staff in the boardroom -- actually the staff cafeteria because there was no other facility to seat twenty people -- kicked around the problem amid an air of despondency. ABA Advertising's biggest client, Critter Dog Biscuits, had just advised it was being taken over by a Dutch global company and all advertising would be handled by one of Australia's top three agencies.

Talk about redundancies, belt-tightening and a suggestion that ABA itself should look for merger opportunities were discussed without too much enthusiasm until finally, James who was chairing the meeting said, "Well let's hear from our guru?"

The weight of despondency over the meeting suddenly lifted. If anyone had the solution it would be Lee. He'd been filing his fingernails, feet on the table. He jumped to his feet and said, "You guys call yourselves creative or management? A bit under-powered intellectually today are we?"

The executives who included Sheila and Claire looked expectantly but were disappointed.

Lee said, "In the absence of any constructive suggestion the only solution is for James and me to find a larger client than Critter Dog Biscuits. Meeting over, off you go guys and gals and service the clients who remain with us."

James sat with his feet up on Lee's desk. "You haven't a fucking clue whose business to pitch for that we have a show of landing, have you?"

"Not yet, but they are out there. Believe me. All we have to do is it find a big company that has been shafted yet again by its big advertising agency and we walk in and say, "Listen here guys, this is what we can do for you. Think of our partnership as family."

James rolled his eyes. Lee opened his bottom drawer, pulled out the whisky bottle and pushed it across to James.

James swigged straight from the bottle, recapped it and pushed the bottle to Lee, their theory good Scotch was so powerful it thwarted any chance of cross infection.

Lee took a snort, swallowed, coughed and said, "Aaaaaaaggghhh. Beautiful."

"You haven't a clue where to look, have you?"

"Well I won't find that elusive client sitting here," Lee said, pushing the bottle back to James. "Entertain yourself, I'm off."

Lee called on the secretary of the advertising agents' association, passing across to Eric a bottle of single malt he'd purchased on the way over.

"Bribery and corruption," the old guy muttered, as he put the bottle away. "Which one of my daughters do you wish to shaft?"

"Christ Eric, you know I'm not like that. If I was after a stray bit of fluff I'd ask you to get your youngest daughter to call me."

"She'd pregnant."

"Well, that proves I'm not interested, doesn't it?"

The weather-beaten weekend sailor poked his hawk-nose in Lee's direction and looked through rheumy eyes at one of the few guys in their business he had any time for. "You skunk, you are after insider information."

"Fair go Eric, nothing that will discredit you as becoming a grandfather for the fortieth time."

"Fifth."

"I was counting the children of mothers who have been sailing with you, your rotten sod."

Eric grinned. "You know Lee, who the fuck would ever know you are English, a Pom. You are more Australian than my two sons."

Half an hour later Lee raced to the airport and caught a flight to Adelaide. Eric had given him the name of a company that fitted Lee's requirements to a 'T'. Eric knew of no other.

At the airport Lee called Claire, a month into her second pregnancy. She was amazed he'd made progress so quickly and said yes, she'd keep quiet and yes she would tell James he'd gone to see a man about a bus."

"Will James know what that means?"

"He won't have a clue other than to know I'm on the scent of something. Call him around if your get lonely babe, I'll be away two nights."

"Lee, how dare you. I am a respectable married woman into my second pregnancy."

"Yeah, yeah. I love you barefoot and pregnant doll. Finger it for me tonight."

"You are a naughty boy. Mama should spank you."

"Final call babe. I'm off to conservative South Australia."

It was the close of the business day when Lee arrived in Adelaide but he called Grasslands Licensed Livestock Remedies on the off chance. No reply. He took a cab to the company's plant and stopped outside the locked fence outside the two-level office building and paid off the cabbie.

The plant operated 24/7 so Lee strolled to the security office just inside the gates and picked up the phone.

"Yes."

"I'm here to see Fletcher Owens."

"He don't work here anymore, retired last week."

"I mean his successor."

"That's his daughter Mrs Stolt. Call in the morning and make an appointment."

"Who is that white Mercedes outside the admin block?"

"Mrs Stolt's."

"Call her and tell her I want to see her. The name's..."

"She won't see anybody. Call in the morning for an appointment."

"The name is Lee Peach. She may recognize the name..."

"The stockings guy who raised those millions for backcountry education of kids?"

"Yeah, that's me. You have a good memory."

"That's how I first met my wife. I was standing in Rundle watching the flashing. She had black stockings and bright red panties and the best legs I'd even seen."

"I understand. I does something for you, doesn't it."

"Yeah. Look buddy, I'll take a risk and call Miss Melba right now."

The gates swung open and the young guard came out, watched by an older guard shaking his head. "First floor -- take the stairs and turn left and walk right to the end. I told her about you and she remembers that great day. Said it would be a privilege to meet you."

Melba Stolt wasn't beautiful or sported a great bust, but the smile was great so Lee thought she was okay.

In her early forties, she stepped forward holding out her hand and said, "Hello Mr Peach. I feel as if I know you."

"Then in that case we should kiss."

"I...er...dammit, why not. I am alone in this building."

"I come in peace," he grinned, kissing the lightly puckered lips.

"On business or to see my stocking tops?"

"You are alone here. I have no wish..."

Melba flashed her stocking tops and colored.

"Very nice. How old are you -- thirty-five?"

She grinned. "That, Mr Peach, has earned you dinner. I go regularly to a..."

"Why not entertain me at home?"

"I live alone. Because of the hours I work I have been divorced."

"Oh, sorry about that. The restaurant of your choice will..."

"My hone will be fine. Come along...?"

"Lee."

"Come with me Lee, I'm Melba. I suppose you really came to see my father?"

"Yes."

"He retired recently as MD but remains on as chairman. He and my mother are in Europe at the moment."