Hot model fucked my dick with her sexy legs in stockings and shoes

Title: “The Nympho’s Nylon Nexus”

The air in the room was thick with tension, a palpable energy that seemed to ripple and pulse with the heat emanating from Vince’s body. He sat perched on the edge of the bed, his hands fidgeting restless near his lap, palms slick with sweat. Across from him, lying supremely disheveled on a heap of pillows, was helping herself to a glass of wine – one perfectly manicured finger lazily tracing the rim as she aimed a coquettish look in his direction.

“Well?” Felicia purred, shifting into a comfortable sprawl that let her short robe fall open to reveal long stretches of tanned skin and the forbidden curve of a breast. “What do you think?”

Vince swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry as wool. “I think you’re absolutely…” He searched for the right word, found it sticking in his throat. “Beautiful,” he managed at last.

Felicia smiled, slow and cat-like. “You know,” she said, rolling onto her stomach to prop her chin in her hands, “most men don’t even bother with the compliments these days.” She fluttered her lashes, a startlingly blue gaze peeking out from behind their sweep. “But you, Vince… you’re a true gentleman.”

He shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant though his heart was hammering a staccato rhythm in his chest. “I call them like I see them.”

With a throaty laugh, Felicia rolled to her feet and padded toward him – prowling, predatory. Her robe hung loosely from her shoulders, the swell of her hips, the toned muscles of her thighs all on exquisite display as the lights played across alabaster skin.

“You always have been such a flatterer,” she cooed, circling him like a shark scenting blood. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.” Rising to her knees on the bed, Felicia leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear. “Let’s just say… I’m not most girls.”

The world seemed to still, holding its collective breath as Vincent found himself staring down at a determinedly unbuttoned robe, a tantalizing trim of lace, the inviting valley of Felicia’s cleavage. He reached out as if in a trance, fingers questing, trembling…

“Ah, ah, ah,” she tutted, batting his hand away with a sharp smack. “Not yet.” Shifting back,Felicia arranging herself against the headboard, legs bent and open in wanton invitation. A garter belt was affixed about her hips, black lace and satin straps framing the creamy rise of her bottom. Suspended from the belt, sheathing each limb, were sheer black stockings – sleek and utterly mesmerizing.

Vince felt his cock begin to stir behind his zipper, the softening black material a dark contrast against her pallid skin. Felicia scissored one foot, the toe of her black stiletto clicking hollowly against the headboard. “I take it you approve?” she asked archly, some note of amusement buried beneath her sultry tone.

“More than,” Vince croaked, the words wrenched from his throat. “I… I’d like to worship them, Mistress.”

Emma’s eyes glittered with wicked delight. “Would you, now? Well, since you asked so sweetly…”

Rising to her feet, she sauntered over to her purse, rummaging through its contents till she produced a small, red switch with a large button on its face. “I think it’s only fair you earn the privilege of kissing my feet, boy.” Tossing the toy to the foot of the bed, she settled back, hands linked behind her head. “Go on – I know you want to.”

Vince moved on wobbly legs, approaching the discarded toy as if it were an uncharted minefield. He picked it up gingerly, examining its smooth red surface, the clear rubber stop that topped the button. His cock was straining against his pants now, a damp spot spreading across the front of his boxers.

“What’s it do?” he asked, voice pitched to a near whisper.

“It does what it says on the tin, love.” Emma purred, her voice low and inviting. “If you turn it on and anything rests on top of it, it’ll vibrate like mad until pressed up.”

Vince cocked the toy experimentally and felt it begin to hum in his palm. Excitement flooded his body, heat erupting in a timeline from his core and raging through his limbs. This was really happening – this was all real. The beauty that was Emma Thorne, spread eagle before him and begging for worship…

He was going to need a very long cold shower after this.

“Now,” Emma purred, gesturing to the space between her legs as she arranged herself back on the pillows. “I did so love those sweet compliments you paid me. I think I’d like a little more of that before you begin…”