.all over me, inside me. As I move my hand all over his body, his hard throbbing manhood tells me he wants the sameI can't even think straight anymore...as our bodies and hormones are now firmly in control. We kiss, bite (and bite hard, oh yeah !) and scream with pleasure. He fumbles around my top but can't seem to get to my nipples. He loves them. Likes them Firm and hard and big, and I like what he does to them with his mouth, but this complicated piece of fabric is getting the better of us. I also like sheer toe hosiery. Once again, product of my times. The outfit of the days was nude pantyhose and those shoes called Candies, so the girls didn't wear reinforced toes, nor did the teachers; the good looking ones anyways. You did have the old ladies that wore their reinforced toes proudly, but I didn't like those.So I was a good looking, popular, jocky k**. But with a major pantyhose fetish that I felt I had to hide. That led to some crazy times when I was either a) home alone, or b). The same when they came to pick her up.Whether it was Grant or Penelope doing the dropping or the picking up, they did their best to park as close to the front of my place, apartment 103 as they could. This Sunday morning’s pick up, it was 9:13 a.m. Penelope was parked all but smack in front of our front door.They were talking, actually kinda arguing as they walked to the car twenty feet away. I caught the gist of the conversation.Penelope had said something to Zoe, but I hadn’t heard that. "Get up, slave." she whispered with a smirk.He didn't get up.She had whispered it deliberately.Her hand smacked his muscled back. "I SAID GET UP SLAVE!"She grabbed him by his hair and yanked him up."I'm sorry, Mistress!" Jan said right after.Two quick slaps to his ass cheeks from the whip."It's not okay, slave. I see how they look at you. Sometimes you look back at them and I see that muscle in your pants grow. It feels me up with such jealousy that I want to hit something. That I want to hit.