Tights of a Teacher Ch. 01

Ms. LaBelle took her jacket off and hung it up on a coat rack that looked like it was made from platinum, and walked over to the couch and sat down, crossing her right leg over her left and putting her hands on her knee. "Come beside me, Adam. We have a lot to talk about." She told me.

Her voice had become sweet and seductive, and I couldn't resist obeying. I put my backpack on the rack and sat down right beside her and looked into her smiling eyes. The look I couldn't identify was in there, and I realized exactly what it was now. Lust. So she was trying to seduce me. I was only too eager to give in.

"Put your hand on my leg, Adam." She ordered seductively. I did so right away, and gasped in delight. Her tights were incredibly soft and silky. My mother did not skimp on tights. She only bought them from high end fashion retailers. And yet, those tights, compared to what Ms. LaBelle had on her legs right now, felt like old dirty dishrags.

Without any further direction I started to move my hand up and down her leg, making sure not to go up her skirt. She groaned softly as I did so. "That feels really good, Adam. Are you enjoying this too?" I was. I could already feel myself going hard. This was already the sexiest experience of my life.

"Yes, Miss. Or can I call you Mary?" I suddenly recalled her telling the class her first name was Mary, when she first came to the school. It seemed appropriate to call her by her first name now.

"Don't call me Mary," She ordered, her voice suddenly becoming firm. "Continue to call me Miss, for now. You using my first name implies you're on a level you haven't reached it." "Yes, Miss," I answered, sounding unintentionally obedient.

"Good. Now, put your hand up my skirt. You can feel my thighs, but don't touch my crotch just yet." Her voice became sweet again. "Yes Miss," I obeyed without question. Feeling her thighs was even sexier. When I wore my mother's tights, the material always felt stretched out, and not as smooth, on the upper legs. Not these ones. They were just as silky, and the soft firmness of Ms. LaBelle's thighs made it even sexier to stroke her. I got even harder.

Suddenly, Ms. LaBelle leant over and kissed me right on the lips. I was momentarily surprised, but got past it quickly. I reciprocated as best I could, and what was just a kiss turned into a several minute long makeout session. We stuck our tongues into each other's mouths and played with the other, all while I continued to stroke her leg. Compared to the one quick kiss I had shared with Sophie, back at the restaurant, this was so much better. Ms. LaBelle knew what she was doing.

After a while, we broke off the kiss. Ms. LaBelle was smiling, and so was I. "Take your hand out, Adam. I want to talk to you before we continue," she told me. I complied, unhesitating if not disappointed, and hugged her. She did the same with me.

"Tell me, Adam, before this reaches it's natural conclusions, why do you think I wear tights every day?" She asked, her smile becoming more beautiful by the second.

"It looks proper and professional to wear tights with skirts and dresses," I answered, without really thinking about it. She shook her head. "No. Bare legs have become acceptable and even the preferred choice with skirts over the past few decades. Now, women only really wear hosiery during fall and winter when bare legs aren't practical, and even then many will forgo tights as a matter of principle."

I pondered my next answer for a bit. "You do it to seduce men," I said. After all, that's what she was doing with me, and I don't think having a fetish for tights is that uncommon. She just shook her head again. "Tights have fallen out of favour for a reason. Most men don't find hosiery attractive anymore, and when they do they prefer stockings, not tights, since they don't cover the vagina and leave some bare skin exposed."

I couldn't think of another answer. She caught on to my confusion. "Here, I'll give you a hint," she said as she grabbed my hand and put back up her skirt. Without thinking, I went all the way up, and gasped. "You aren't wearing any panties," I said, dumbly. "No, I don't. I find they just get in the way." The answer to her question came to me that instant. "You have a fetish for tights." I said triumphantly. By God, I hoped I was right.

Her smile beamed in it's beauty. "Correct. Men aren't the only ones with fetishes, you know. Ever since my mother first got me a pair of tights to wear, I couldn't wear anything else on my legs. The first time I fingered myself, it was with a pair of tights on." She kicked her leg into the air and brought her hand up and down her calf before continuing.

"I wear conservative, if attractive and fashionable clothing, for similar reasons. I find that I'm more beautiful when wearing high necked, long sleeved sweaters and blouses. I hate the revealing tops many women like to wear nowadays. Not because I'm modest, but I don't find it attractive. And I wear skirts of this length because it helps frame the tights better than above the knee skirts do. My legs aren't just for anyone, and I wish others would feel the same way. The high heels should be self-explanatory.'

'I wear clothing like this all the time. On the weekends and my days off when I just lounge around, I'm in a sweater or blouse, modest skirt, tights and high heels. Even on summer break when it's boiling hot outside. I won't wear anything else for the world. And," she leant by my head and stage whispered into my ear, "I won't even undress when I have sex."

I was utterly thrilled at this. I had never found partially or wholly naked bodies, even those of supermodels and porn stars, attractive. Women looked so much more beautiful when they were dressed like Ms. LaBelle. At that moment, I was harder than I had ever been in my life.

"But I'm not going to just let any man into my bed and body," she continued. "When I was younger, I had high standards in regards to attractiveness, and that was it when I chose men to bed. I still do, but that's not enough anymore. All the men I've been with knew they were handsome, and they wanted me to do things their way. Myself fully naked, with not even tights and heels on. Them lying on their beds, with me bouncing up and down on their cocks doing all the work. See, these men think that being a domineering asshole is what women find attractive. I don't. I absolutely despise that. I want to fuck a man while at my most beautiful in fine clothes, tights and heels. I want to be lying on my back, with my nyloned legs wrapped around my partner as he thrusts into me, controlling him as I see fit. I want to be able to look into his eyes, and hug him, and kiss him before, during and after our fucking. I want him to do whatever I want, in the bed and outside of it.'

'If you do that for me, I will give you the best sex you ever will have. No woman will give you as much pleasure as I can. Just agree to what I want, and I'll fulfil all your fantasies." With that, she drew her head back and looked at me, still seductively smiling. "Well?" She asked.

I was breathing heavily. I was full to bursting. I needed to empty my balls, now, or suffer blue balls for a week. "Yes," I breathed out. "I'll fuck you how you want me to. I'll do anything you ask of me. Just, let me inside you, Miss, please."

She lowered her leg. "Excellent. If you please, pick me up and carry me into the bedroom. That room right there, with the closed door. We'll get on with it right away."

I stood up and picked her up, the way a groom does his bride on a wedding day, and as I carried her to the bedroom the door opened on it's own. I didn't wonder about anything in this place, I was intoxicated with her. She was so beautiful, and about to fuck me in the best way possible.

The bedroom had the same carpeting, and at the end of the room on my right there was a king-size bed with blue and black plaid patterns on the sheets and blankets. To my left was a large closet, and ahead of me was a full-length mirror and a large dresser, made from oak with elaborate designs carved into it. "Put me down on the bed, take off your clothes and lie down with me," she ordered.

"What is this place?" I asked her, regaining presence of mind. "This is a gap between worlds, which I turned into my abode. Here, I can do anything I want without repercussion. Now, are you going to do as I say, as we agreed, or do I have to get angry with you?" Her eyes and voice had a hint of annoyance with me.

I put her down on the bed, and took off my clothing, making sure to fold it neatly and lay it down beside the bed. While I was doing that Ms. LaBelle hiked her skirt up all the way to her waist, revealing the entirety of her sexy, nylon-clad legs. I got into the bed beside her, coming on top of her like she said she wanted.

"This is your first time, isn't it, Adam?" She asked right before I could get on top of her. "...Yes. Sophie and I broke up long before we got to that point." I answered, embarassed.

Ms. LaBelle rubbed my cheek. "It's okay. Everyone has to learn sometime, and there's nothing worse than two virgins trying to teach each other how to fuck. Better to do it with someone experienced." She kissed me again. Not very long this time, just a quick peck. I continued to go on top of her.

To my dismay, she didn't wrap her legs around me and instead pushed me away. "Not yet, Adam. We have to warm up before the main event." With that, she flipped us around, with me on the bottom and her straddling my groin. I was shocked. "I thought you hated this position?!" I shouted.

"I do, but we're not fucking just yet. Haven't you ever heard of foreplay, Adam?" Before I could respond, she pushed herself back and squeezed my erect cock between her calves, sitting upright. It wasn't unpleasant, quite the contrary. Without a further word, she began to raise her calves up and down, stroking me.

I let my head roll back, moaning with pleasure. Jerking myself off with my mother's tights was nothing compared to this. Almost immediately I felt precum dribble out of my dick, no doubt covering her tights. Ms. LaBelle would sometimes speed up, increasing my arousal, then slow down again before I exploded. After every time she slowed down, she would come up a little bit closer. She did this until she was stroking with her thighs and her feet were on either side of my head, heels down on the pillow. As she got closer, I could hear her moaning as well. This caught my curiosity, and I tilted my head back up to see that she had put her right hand down the waistband of her skirt and tights, fingering herself furiously. I noted that the gusset of her tights had become shiny and slick with her wetness.

After about ten minutes, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I ejaculated without restraint, the cum bursting into the air before falling down onto her crotch. I felt my cock soften and go limp. Ms. LaBelle got up and straddled me again. "What's wrong, Adam? We only had another five minutes to go. You couldn't hold it in anymore?" She asked, with concern in her voice.

I breathed in and out heavily. "No. I've been hard for a while now, Miss. It needed to go somewhere." I answered, lamely.

She pursed her lips and pulled her hand out. "Oh well. It's not your fault, I suppose. This is your first time with a woman, after all. And it's not like I can't fix this problem." With that, she lied down beside me and brought her thigh into the air, before extending her lower leg and foot up with it.

As her foot came up, I felt my cock becoming hard again, and fresh desire filled me. I came on top of her, and as I did so she put her arms around my shoulders and her legs around my waist. "Love me," she stage whispered, her eyes and voice full of lust.

Without a word or hesitation, I brought my stiff cock to her crotch. The gusset of the tights split apart as my cock head pressed against it, and I slid into her. The inside of her pussy felt fantastic, as soft and warm as her legs in tights did. As I went in, she somehow tightened her cunt around me, which only made it feel even better.

I began to thrust into her instinctively. With every thrust, she and I both gasped in pleasure. She brought her legs up higher, right to my armpits, and I began to thrust faster and deeper into her. I would do this for a couple of minutes, and just before I would burst inside of her she brought her legs back down to my waist, slowing my thrusts and reducing how deep I was going. This would continue for about a minute before I started to speed up and she brought her legs back to my elbows, and the cycle repeated.

Before long, she was spilling her juices all over my balls and onto the bed. Before this happened she would bring up her head and kiss me, causing a final burst of speed from me, then slowed down again after she spilled. After about twenty minutes, her spillage became constant, and I was about to explode myself. I thrust faster and faster into her, and she kissed me again, not pulling her mouth or legs back. I couldn't help it anymore. My balls let their load go inside of her, filling her cunt with cum, and she let so much juice out the sheets were soaking wet. Finally, as I disgorged my last load into her, I felt my cock go soft and pulled out, falling on the bed beside her.

Both of us were breathing hard. For my part, that had been more intensive than any gym class, and much more satisfying. "Oh God, thank you Adam. That was so good." She muttered between breaths.

I got up and put my clothes back on. Oddly, I didn't feel dirty. Ms. LaBelle sat up and brought herself to the edge of the bed, fixing her skirt. "Sit back down, Adam. I don't want you to just fuck and run. I want to talk."

I sat down, shirt still untucked and laces undone. "Was it really that good for you, Miss? I mean, for me that was the best time of my life, but what about you?"

She smiled and began to rub her leg. "You have some work to do on your technique, and you need to improve your control over your load. It's not good for you to lose everything during foreplay. If it had been another woman other than myself, it would have been over then and there. But I'm glad I could just get someone to fuck me like that. Besides, it's not like I can't teach you how to fuck me right."

She stood up. "Before you leave, I have a gift for you." She walked out of the bedroom and came back with her purse. She reached inside and pulled out a small white gift box. "Open it," she ordered me. I did so right away. Inside, held in place with white foam, was a gold, uncut key like the one she used to get here, and a flipphone.

"The key will allow you to come back to this place whenever you want. All you have to do is put the key into any door with a lock and turn it. That will summon the staircase that leads to here. Just come on down. There's plenty of amusements in this place for you.'

'That dresser has tights in it. Just open the drawer, and you'll pull out a pair in whatever colour and style you wish. Do what you will with them, just don't bring them out of here. The bookcases in the living room have pictures and videos of me. Again, do as you will with them when you're here, but leave them here when you're done. If you don't, I will know, and I will get angry with you. You don't want that.'

'The phone is your link to me. If you ever feel the need to fuck, call or text me and ask politely. My number is on there, and it's the only number that phone can call or text. I'll do the same, but there's a crucial difference; when I call or text you, there's no asking. It will be an order, and you will drop what you're doing immediately and come here as soon as possible. You will also never fuck anyone else other than me. Oh, and no one else can ever know. At school, we have a normal student-teacher relationship. If you see me elsewhere, do not approach and talk to me. Here is the only place we can do this. Those are the terms for your access to my body and my love. Understood?"

"Yes, Miss," I responded, almost automatically. My dream woman was here, and she was willing to be my lover. Any terms would be reasonable for that. She came forward, embraced me and gave me one last kiss before I left.

"And Adam? Thank you. You have a long way to go as a lover, but for a first time you were fantastic. I know now I can mould you into the lover I want." She gestured towards the door. "Go home. The staircase will take you there, and your parents won't be home yet. It will still be three thirty there."

I tucked in my shirt, tied my shoes, got my backpack and left. I had entered a new stage of my life, where the most beautiful woman in my life was eager to fuck me, and had the same fetish that I did. I hadn't yet realized what I was getting myself into.