It had annoyed me from the day I started working at the station. No sound coming through the monitor backstage. I climbed up onto the bench and ignoring occupational health and safety, reached across to the edge of the screen and found a control panel. Success. Gayle's voice increasing in volume as I pushed the appropriate button. Finding a suitable medium, I leaned back to watch the screen itself, an encore of a recent Suck U Dry steam vacuum segment. It wasn't the vacuum that caught my attention.
Gayle's pants looked to be painted on. Flesh colored they clung to her like skin, her large ass looking naked as she pushed the vacuum across the intentionally littered floor. And then standing upright. Facing forward as the camera panned up the length of the vacuum and her legs in the one shot. Stopping as it reached the handle and respectively, her groin. The cameltoe must have been intentional. Her pants disappearing between her feminine folds to perfectly trace the outline of upper labia and clitoral hood. She was surely not wearing panties.
My cock twitching within my pants, I dropped back down as the woman herself entered the changing room and looked up at her own image. "Ooh, I hate the sound of my own voice," she waved dismissively at the screen before looking back down at me, her eyes dropping further as she noticed the increasing bulge in my pants. "Oh goodness Corey," she smiled. "Someone's looking forward to the next hour!"
I felt myself blush and a little self-conscious, I was relieved when she turned her attention to the hosiery.
"So, which should I wear?" She cast her eyes over the arrangement upon the bench.
"You? Aren't you hosting?"
"Oh, I'll always wear a pair under my dress while presenting. A quick lift for the audience," she added, taking the front of her skirt and pulling it up her leg as a demonstration. She stopped just shy of her groin, her thick thigh and pale skin, smooth and longing to be kissed. My cock strained against my fly and I ached to know what underwear she wore?
The screech of the radio in my ear cut short our conversation as I indicated to Gayle, Delores was on line.
"Say again," I asked.
"Theresa and your mother are on their way," she informed me. "Has Gayle arrived? We've got twenty minutes 'til air. I want this to be one of our best, so Corey... do your thing. Management is watching!" She ended on an ominous note and I immediately turned my attention back to Gayle.
"Are you wearing panties?" I shamelessly asked the sixty-plus year old woman and despite her demonstrated casual attitude to nudity and sex I'd witnessed over the last two weeks, she blushed.
"Of course I am Honey," I noticed her nipples harden in her tightly wound satin wrap dress. "Why?"
I walked across to the box of excess stock and removed a pair of flesh colored pantyhose and turned back towards her.
"Well take them off!"
*
Gayle didn't need convincing. As if it was a regular day to day routine, she casually tucked her hands under her dress and sought out her underwear, her eyes on me as she lowered the orange satin and lace panties down her legs. Off over her heeled feet, she stood back to attention and held them out.
"I trust you can hold onto these for me?" She smiled; her coyness long gone.
My dick now begging to be released from my fly, I took Gayle's panties and feeling their warmth, tucked them beside my hardness in my front pocket for later perusal, handing her the hose in return.
"Oh, you might have to help me Sweetie," she held up her nails. "Just had them done. Don't want to cause a run."
Her smile gave away the fact she was perfectly capable of putting them on herself without incident, but ever the gentleman, I took back the packet.
Gayle took it upon herself to raise her dress in preparation, lifting the skirt well above her groin before backing onto a director's chair and resting her ass. She made sure my gaze was on her as she raised her leg, crossing it over the other as a man would sit as she undid the sling of her heels. Fumbling with the plastic packet, my eyes zeroed in on her slit. The shaving job I'd done two days earlier holding up, her pubic mound perfectly smooth.
"Fuck you're hot!" I hastened to compliment the mature woman before me as the packet ripped open and I dropped to help remove her second shoe.
"And you're quite the gentleman," Gayle praised me, taking her now bare foot and placing it upon my shoulder. I cocked my neck to brush my cheek against her, my eyes struggling to rise from between her legs as I kissed her ankle. It seemed to delight her and her now bare other foot left my hand and planted square upon my bulging fly. "Why don't you get that out and I'll show you what a lady does for a gentleman?"
The pantyhose in my hand, I wasted no time in unzipping my fly and unleashing my erection, standing proud as Gayle ran her toes up my length.
"Oh, for goodness' sake Gayle," my mother's voice entered the fray and we looked as one as Mom and Theresa entered backstage hand in hand. "We can't leave you alone for a minute."
"What?" Gayle once more acted coy. "He was helping me put on my pantyhose!"
"Is that what we're calling it now?" Mom laughed. "You can put on your own pantyhose woman," she grinned and I rose blushing, my cock still protruding from my pants. Theresa was sharing the mirth, a smile on her face as her eyes locked onto my cock.
"Yes Gayle," Theresa stuck her tongue firmly in her cheek. "Not very professional."
Indignant, Gayle took the pantyhose from my grasp and rolled them in preparation.
"Well, I'm going to be out front for the next hour," she defended herself. "It's alright for you two," she looked down at my cock. "You'll have access to it for most of the show."
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, I made to put my dick back in my pants only for Mom to stop me.
"Oh, Corey wait," she hummed. "I think you can leave that out."
I didn't need to be told twice.
"Ten minutes Corey," Delores spoke in my ear and it caused me to jump, reacting immediately to her reminder.
"Got it," I answered and with all eyes in the room still focused on my incredibly erect penis, clicked my fingers to get their combined attention. "Okay. Ten minutes 'til we're on. Mom, Theresa. Get undressed."
The power of the comment had me ridiculously getting harder and the desire to touch it was almost overwhelming, resisting as I made toward the bench-top and the organized Skin-Tightz range. Having studied the rundown forensically, I lifted two pair of the black opaque pantyhose and turned back to the room. Gayle with her tan pantyhose around her knees, Mom already down to bra and panties and my sister bottomless, in the act of removing her shirt.
