Author's note: This is a true story. Well . . . it's 'true-ish'. It is accurate in the broad strokes, but I have condensed the events into a single afternoon for story telling purposes. The actual events took place over a 3-month period. This condensation probably makes my cousin seem more knowledgeable and less innocent than she was, and maybe myself, a bit more innocent.
The truth was, it was a different era. An era of no internet, no on-line communities catering to kinks in human sexuality, and no availability of 24-hour internet porn, available to literally, everyone. We were two young people who discovered a shared interest, and had to figure out all the stuff, young people today can find out about with a simple internet search.
I think this lack of knowledge was erotic as all hell, all by itself, and while I love the freedom young women and men have today to express themselves sexually, I must admit there is also a lot to be said for the sort of blind experimentation and listening to our inner selves that we had to do. At any rate, I hope you like this. All participants are over the age of 18.
* * *
It was late Sunday morning, sometime in 1963, I recall it being shortly before our high school graduation. We were still dressed for church.
We were over 18, our respective birthdays happening in the previous December; and we were looking forward to the summer before we attended the local community college. However, neither of us had yet summoned the courage to tell our parents we weren't interested in 'church things', and I suspect we probably were not certain how we felt about all that. We were cousins and had lived in the same neighborhood all our lives.
We were at her house alone watching TV some dipshit monster movie, I don't even remember what the movie was, or where our parents were.
We were home alone on most Sundays after church. It had been that way since we were young. Our parents went out and did whatever it was that grownups did on Sunday afternoons. It sounds horrible by modern standards, but things were different back then, kids were expected to be self-reliant earlier than they are now.
I sat on the floor next to her, while she reclined on the couch. Idly, as we watched, she played with my hair, occasionally stopping to stroke my neck or arms.
I didn't mind, at all. I rather liked it, I found it both arousing and relaxing at the same time. I would still get enormously hard erections from it, even though she had felt free to touch me like that for as long as I could remember. I would frequently go home after these stroking sessions, and masturbate furiously 5 or 6 times before I was too exhausted to continue.
We never really talked about it, it was just a part of our lives. She was free to stroke and touch me whenever she wanted, pretty much however she wanted, but our unspoken agreement was that I was never free to stroke or touch her unless she told me to. And unless I was giving her a very chaste foot rub, I simply didn't touch her.
Don't get me wrong, her touch was never inappropriate, no matter how much I wished it were. But as a girl, her sphere of 'personal space' was much larger than mine, and as a girl who was 2 months older than her cousin, she could violate my personal space at will, and that had been true from the very moment we had become aware of each other.
At any rate, there we were. She on the couch while I sat on the floor in front of her, in a bit of a trance while she played with the upper half of my body when suddenly, she draped her legs over my shoulders.
Then she gently tugged on a lock of my hair, "Give me a foot rub?"
"Sure," I said. Far more pleased than my cool exterior might have indicated.
I turned around, so my legs extended under the sofa, while she placed her legs between my thighs. I was too close to the sofa, so her toes brushed my crotch, it was an accident on my part but while I said I was sorry, I don't think I was THAT sorry. (heh heh!)
She poked at my crotch with her toes, "Back up a bit!" I backed up a little and spread my legs to give her some extra room, then picked up one of her feet to begin the foot rub.
"Wait!" She said, "These are new stockings! I don't want to ruin them!"
I set her foot down "OK, do you want to remove them?"
Now, what I meant to ask was if she wanted to go into her bedroom and remove them? But I guess she misinterpreted my question.
"No! If I remove them, you'll see stuff you shouldn't see. Why don't you remove them?"
Believe it or not, there was a time before tights and pantyhose, that all women wore garter belts to hold up their stockings. It was relatively easy for a woman or an experienced man to reach up a woman's skirt or dress, release the clasps holding the top of the stockings and then slide the stockings down around a woman's ankles. I was not an experienced man though I had a passing understanding how those clasps worked, and I'm not certain she fully understood this.
"Ahh, are you sure?"
"Yes, it would be awkward for me to do it with you sitting on the floor at my feet. It'll be ok, just be careful with my stockings."
Like I said I was not experienced. She spread her legs a bit, and I think I saw exactly what she didn't want me to see, though I recall thinking that if there was more to see, then it must truly be spectacular.
She was wearing a summery sort of dress with a red flowery print. It had a tight bodice and a loose and flowing skirt that came down a bit past her knees. Slowly, I put my hands up her skirt one hand on each side of her left leg.
"Look up at me." She said, and I locked my eyes on hers and I knew I'd have to navigate from the memory of the view burned into my memory to this day.
Apparently, my hands went too high. Not TOO, too high, but my fingers brushed the silky soft skin of her upper thigh, and I could feel a spark jump from her skin to mine, and instantly, my erection was as hard as it had ever been. I'm sure my eyes went big as I stared into her eyes.
She too must have felt that spark as well. Her lips parted a bit and she gave a little gasp.
"You're a little too high." Her voice sounded dry and a little cracked.
"Sorry!" I said and moved my hand a bit lower, and I found the first clasp.
While I understood the clasp design in theory, I had never operated one for real, much less on a young woman wearing stockings and a garter belt, and I was unable to slide it up to release it.
"Do you need help?"
"No, I think I've got it." I bend my left hand at the wrist and the back of my hand brushed her crotch.
I noticed two things, the fabric of her panties was very slick and silky feeling and she was warm there. I briefly wondered how she could stand that heat 24 hours a day. I know, I was kind of dumb, but I was kind of new at this. We were both kind of new at this.
But I released the first clasp!
"Good boy! There are four on each leg, one on the other side, and two in the back."
I quickly released the one on the other side, but realized that she was sitting on the one in the back. "How . . ."
"Release the two on the side on the other leg, then I'll stand up and you can release the ones in the back. When you're done, GENTLY slide the stockings down my leg and help me step out of them! Got it?"
"Yes"
I undid the clasps on her other leg and sat back on my haunches. Julie looked down at me, "Reach around the back and undo the other clasps," she said.
I reached around her, pressing my cheek to her lower belly. I was painfully aware of how close my head was to her crotch. I don't know if I really felt the heat coming from her nether region, but I was certain that I did at the time. But, it broke my concentration and this time, I accidentally touched her backside.
"Watch your hands, buster!" I got the impression she enjoyed seeing me on my knees looking up at her, there was a faint smile on her lips.
"Sorry!"
She smiled, "Somehow I don't think you're THAT sorry!" Then she sat back down on the couch. I continued to look at her as she looked at me quizzically, "Well?" She asked.
"Well what?"
Sharon extended her left leg and brushed my lips with her big toe, "My Stockings, your job is to remove my stockings without making them run!" I caught a glimpse of panty just before she told me to close my eyes.
"Oh! Sorry!"
Sharon lowered her leg and spread her knees a bit, so I could reach up under her skirt. The moves I was trying to perform would have been difficult in any situation, but with my eyes closed, it was next to im-possible. I didn't want to break the spell by reaching too high like I did the first time; I wanted this, whatever it was, to continue. In short, I didn't want to piss her off.
So, I thought the best thing to do was to grab her ankle and slowly slide my hands up her calf and thighs till I got to what I later learned was the 'welt' of the stocking.
