Skirt-Watching

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For those unaware, I live in a household with six adults living in it, plus several cats and dogs. The head of the house is a man some years older than myself, Adrian. Adrian is married to Monique. Adrian and Monique both sleep with Ronan. We have another couple in the house who are not part of this polyamorous set-up in the form of Matt and Cody. Then there is me. Where do I fit into all this confusing mess?

Well, I also happened to be Monique’s lover. Adrian and Ronan, of course, didn’t mind. Polyamory opened many doors of love and romance, and ripe opportunity for fun on the side. But I love Monique with all my heart. It just never occurred to me to share beds with the guys.

I moved into the house some seven years before, and I do recall a weekend I spent at the home, known as the Chateau, as a guest. It was my birthday, and I had spent the night at a club, only to cross paths with Monique. I like the look of her, and she clearly wanted to get into my pants. I noticed her wedding band and out came the declaration that, due to the nature of her polyamory, fucking someone else was not a problem. I naturally assumed I would go back to her place, not realising it was a fair hike out of town. It required the use of a runabout boat operated by Matt, who happened to be Monique’s younger brother. So what he used to do was take Monique and her friends into the city. She would party and get drunk, before Matt, who was happy to be the sober “driver”, took her and her mates back home after their night of revelry. What Mon didn’t tell me though, was that she shared a house with two other lovers, one she was married to. I also did not realise they were people I knew of via the music press and countless albums. Both Adrian and Ronan were considered behemoths of the rock music scene internationally. As they aged, their output had slowed, so they enjoyed their island life in relative peace.

I spent the night fucking Mon in her bedroom, while I could hear Adrian and Ronan partaking in some pleasure of their own in the bedroom across the hall. The echo of orgasm rang out loudly downstairs and was allegedly loud enough to rouse Matt and Bruce from their slumber. It also turned them on enough, they ended up fucking each other too. In the morning, my mouth was parched. The first person I bumped into was Ronan. He was walking across the landing, heading into a reading room with a copy of the paper. He recognised me too. You see, I was a well-known actor in theatre at the time.

“Wait, wait…”

“Hi, Mr Barker. Sorry…”

“Hayden Bowen, so it was you who was responsible for that absolute coo of delight I hear out of my girlfriend in the early hours of this morning. I tell you what, it stopped Adrian and me from doing whatever it was we were doing. No doubt it was X-rated.”

“Well, I am sorry…”

“What have you got to be sorry for?”

“I am not stepping on your toes am I?”

“Not at all Hayden, I get the feeling we all spent last night in some form of heaven. I do not have objections. Miss has her needs.”

Mon then suddenly appeared.

“I have needs, darling?”

“Ronan, do you call her Miss all the time?”

“Not always Hayden, though she has some authority over me. I am her sissy, you know.”

“I Ümraniye Ukraynalı Escort am aware, I have read all the magazine articles and all that trashy newspaper gossip. I thought all of it was made up. But, apparently not?”

“It is all true. Anyhow, do you have plans for the rest of the weekend?”

“No…”

“You must come to dinner tonight. Mon’s ex-husband is coming. He has been nothing but a dick to us, the merry triad, and I would love to shove something rotten in his face. Not that you are rotten at all. I cannot imagine having a sexier person to walk smack into first thing in the morning.”

“Sexier? Are you admitting you find me attractive, Ronan?”

“So what if I am. It makes perfect sense. You look a lot like Adrian when he was about fifteen years younger than he is now! So, dinner?”

I accepted the dinner invitation with glee. It became the start of a fruitful relationship, developed over the following years until I moved in a couple of years after that. Sure, there were teething problems, but now we were in it for the long haul. Island life was idyllic, but after so long in the saddle, I was itching for something I wasn’t sure to scratch. I heard alerted Monique to this rather odd feeling of extreme horniness that even she could not sate.

The house had a lot of freedoms, and it meant one of the members of the house was often spotted in short skirts and high heels. It was not Monique. For years, I had watched his stride past me, usually on his way to breakfast in his favourite spot upstairs. The skirts were often tight across his fantastic ass, occasionally they would be flirty and swish with the shake in his gait. For years, I was a skirt watcher. Keen to see what one he would be wearing. The hosiery was just as important.

And one Sunday, I chanced upon him in the reading room where he was sat at the table, with a sheet of musical notation papers in front of him. What a delicious sight to behold, though. He was in a t-shirt that was tight across a well-defined body, proudly proclaiming “Sex Is For Sissies”. A rather short and tight black skirt, under which were the long, athletic legs of Ronan, clad in a wide weave of fishnet stockings. The skirt was so short, the tops of his stockings were noticeable. Even though Ronan stood at almost two metres in height, he still chose to wear high heels when he was in “femme” mode. The severe heel of the black patent leather stiletto gave his legs this curved silhouette.

I felt a tightening in my pants. Now, I had seen Ronan in femme mode before, but for some reason, that morning, I found it fucking arousing as hell.

“Oh shit, Hayden, sorry, didn’t see you there. How does it?”

“A lot better for having seen you. You are looking most attractive today.”

“Thank you. Can I ask what I have done differently to make you say that? I mean, you see me in heels and mini-skirts a lot.”

“Maybe it is the legs. New stockings?”

“Yes, actually. Monique told you about that website that does lingerie just for men, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, she did. I love it. I mean, why not? Must be nice to have stuff that fits you properly.”

“Yeah, not too tight on the groin, although these are just thigh-highs.”

His voice Ümraniye Üniversiteli Escort trailed off. There was a looking of wanting there, and I noticed the bulge in his skirt he tried to suppress.

“Um, Hayden, I hate to ask but…are you horny at the moment?”

“Yes, how could you tell?’

“You are in a pair of sweatpants. Cardinal sin if you did not want anyone to see your boner.”

“Ha, I am a show-off.”

“I know. Tell me off if this is too probing a question but…do you still find me attractive?”

Such a dry mouth with a ragingly hard dick. It was not hard to imagine Ronan sexually as a fantasy idol. He was very tall, with long legs, a nice ass, and he also had full lips I admired. Just occasionally, I wondered what those lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. I never wanted to admit that I jerked off thinking about Adrian and Ronan in bed together. What lucky cunts they were.

“I do. It has been a growing attraction over time. Ronan, if you will let me…”

“Please…it would be a much better prospect than this awful sheet music.”

He got up out of his seat and hell, yes. He towered over me. He just casually turned around to bend over. You old pervert. He went to remove his heels to remove the height discrepancy while I copped a full view of that bubble butt, prettied up in black mesh. He was so fucking sexy without even trying, but when he was coquettish like this, it just about made me blow in my pants.

I had long had an interest in men as well as women, and one item of clothing I frequently fantasised over was stockings. Monique loved her lingerie and often wore it especially for me. I also enjoyed seeing Ronan teetering around the house in his heels and skirts, with swinging views of a tight ass and legs wrapped in translucent textures of sex. Here, we had the seam running down to a Cuban heel. I just wanted to get up behind, but I wanted him to turn around back around.

Now he was only a few inches taller than me. I pulled him closer and could feel the tightness of his chest. I pulled at his skirt and slipped my hand behind him. There was a juicy ass, just dying for a slap. I was told he was always the bottom, and I used to hear Adrian spanking him with some force during their sex sessions. Thank fuck the soundproofing didn’t quite work.

“Well, kiss me, damn it.”

“Wow, you are so impatient, Ronan.”

My lips met his. His lips almost melted like some kind of whipped butter, I was surprised by their fluidity and softness. A tongue felt so invitingly warm and tender as it teased mine. His hands on my face as my hand lifted his skirt. I needed my hand on his cock. Such heavenly kissing sent a chorus of blood down there. He was bound by these pretty panties in sheer black mesh. I pulled his cock out.

I couldn’t help myself. I got on my knees, grabbed Ronan’s dick with one hand and slipped him into my mouth. A shaved cock, a hardness of soft yet firm and slightly yielding with a twitch of excitement. He tasted salty already. I figured he had long fantasised about me, being the younger lover of his girlfriend. His underwear came completely off, and so he was stood there, in just those velvety stockings. Sloppy and divine, but that Ümraniye Vip Escort was not how I envisaged my encounter with him. We were just so hot for one another, I think we didn’t even know quite what to do.

I dropped my underwear and let my cock spring out. We continued kissing where I shared his saline slipper while our stiff cocks bang against one another. He suddenly stopped me.

“Ooh, Hayden, why now?”

“Sissy, do not be so paranoid. Yes, I kind of stayed away because you reminded me way too much of my ex-lover.”

Bunch of sinners, we are. I had male and female lovers before I entered this fold. Ronan could have chosen a better time to bring it up, and I thought my response would put him off my scent. What a scent it was. The detection of some type of body fluid was already hanging in the air. As was Ronan. You see, my first partner was a man, James. James physically resembled Ronan a hell of a lot. So the whole time I lived in the house, I felt acute guilt for this attraction. Well, fuck it.

“Well, Hayden, are we…”

“Yes, we are. Fucking hot piece of ass. You are seriously the world’s oldest twink, and I love it. We need to find somewhere private.”

Being a large house, there were a lot of rooms one could have used. I took a spare room. We crashed through the door, with our hard dicks flopping about in the air. It would have looked quite amusing.

We glided all over the satin sheets of the bed. All my body hair stood erect with static as his stockings lightly tickled me in a quivering fashion. I got on top of him, an excellent place to admire the body of somebody who worked out and looks after himself. I looked at his hands, touching me, with his painted red nails. The femme touches were so cute, yet so sexy. I had my body up against his, and we melded in a mildly sweaty haze of fulfilment. We spoke in muted, breathy tones.

“Oh..Ronan? About time, I would say, I cannot let Adrian have all the glory.”

“Good, because I wanted you just as much. “

When the guys were a lot younger, Ronan was the one who didn’t engage in group sex. He was more a one on one performer, so he often took a backstage role in the sexuality of the house. Last dibs.

“Good, gorgeous, That cock of yours was leaking once I got those panties off. So forward of you. These hot to trot stockings. Tear them if you must. O want to make a mess of them. I am so hard for you right now, dripping. Hmm.”

His cock was begging for attention, as we just giggled at one another. I love him. I really do. So I continued to kiss him passionately and let my hands wander. Slowly grooving down his body. Our cocks rubbed together. A pleasant kind of friction was building some sort of electricity between us. I was even more turned on, feeling his nylon clad legs wrap around me.

The noise in the room was insane. Two men deep in the throes of pleasure of wanting. It was like we were trying to match each other, beat for beat. Musically poetic, if you will. His cock may have been rock hard, but the texture was one of softness and stickiness from the forever oozing precum. Precum that coated our cocks in a liquid equilibrium of transit. The sliding of cocks, back and forth, our heads sticking together.

We came with seconds of one another. Our bellies plastered in white thick cum, and in Ronan’s case, some splattered on his face. Not just that, but when I lifted myself off the bed, I noticed the ejaculate all over his pristine hosiery.

He blushed.

“I consider my hosiery to be officially broken in. Care for seconds?”

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