Throughout my 35 years on this planet I've learned a few very important lessons. I think one of these lessons in particular will bring some joy to your users so I wanted to write in and tell you all about it. First though, let me tell you a little bit about myself. As I mentioned before I';m 35 years old, and I live in Seattle, Washington. I work for a fairly large corporation, though I think it would be better not to mention it by name here. I stand about 5'; 4"; tall and I currently weigh in at a slim 115 lbs. I have beautifully long, sexy legs, a nice tight ass, and a full B cup pair of breasts. They're still firm, and with a little bit of creative work with a bra then can look like voluptuous C cups. I have blonde hair, even downstairs, and me eyes are a sparkling blue. I've always been told I'm pretty and I have no reason to believe otherwise.

I've been married for seven years, and ironically, that's where the lesson I want to share with you begins. My husband is something of a catch; he's pretty hunky looking, has a good job, and he's a wizard in the sack. We dated a month before having sex, but we've never gone longer than a week without fucking since that time. I love nothing more than to feel his cock driving deep into my pussy, and I think he's quite a fan of being in there. However, it wasn't easy bagging Mark; in fact it took a bit of inspiration on my part. We first met a baseball game of all places, when Mark spilled his drink on me. I was there with my sister (we're both Mariners fans) and Mark happened to be sitting next to us. After he spilled on me we chatted a little bit and even exchanged phone numbers, but he never called. I didn't call him either, but only because I didn't figure he was interested. Two weeks later I saw him again, this time at a coffee shop. Amazingly, we only ran into each other because he spilled his drink on me once more; this time it was a coffee with cream. Again we chatted and again he seemed slightly disinterested, but I decided to go for it and I asked him out. I think he felt guilty for constantly spilling stuff on me so he accepted my invitation.

We agreed to meet at a local restaurant for dinner and I set about devising a plan to convince him that I was worth dating. I picked my sexiest black dress, the one that had never failed me when it came to landing men. I wore my best pushup bra, did my hair up in the sexiest way I could manage, and then pulled out my secret weapon: my high class, super soft imported shiny pantyhose from Franzoni, one of the top makers of luxury hose. Just pulling them up my leg was an erotic experience; it felt like I was being swimming in a bath full of rose petals. No man can resist these I thought as I put them on.

As it turns out I was right in my assumption. Mark certainly didn't have a chance. We sat next to each other in a booth at the restaurant, brushing up against one another constantly. At one point Mark let his hand come to rest on my knee and I'm pretty sure it was then that he was sold on me. A month later we returned to the same restaurant and I even wore the same outfit. Again he touched my knee, but this time he let his hand run further up my leg, all the way to my inner thigh. He didn't make it all the way to my pussy, but I'll bet he could feel the heat emanating from that area. I was turned on in a big way and that night I took him home and fucked him all night long. We screwed in every position I could think of. By the morning Mark was proclaiming his love for me and talking about our future plans together. A year later we were married and well on the way to happiness.

Since then I've been deviously using my pantyhose to get things I want from Mark. If I ever need a new pair of shoes or if I want to go on a shopping spree I simply make sure to roll a sexy pair of pantyhose up my legs before I ask. He never seems to be able to resist, and I've become convinced that it's because of the pantyhose more than anything else.

I've had a few experiences at work that also bear this theory out, including one last week that involved me asking for extra vacation time. Mark and I wanted to go on a holiday to Hawaii, but I had already used up my vacation time for the year. I decided to put my pantyhose theory to the test by selecting my sexiest black pantyhose, an almost sheer Wolford pantyhose, and pairing them with a slightly too short skirt and a sexy turtleneck sweater. Dressed in this outfit I went made an appointment with my boss for later in the day and went to work. When my appointment time came around I sexily swayed into his office and took a seat in front of his desk, letting my skirt ride up just a bit too far. I very slowly crossed my legs, making sure he got a good look at my upper thighs as I did so. I caught him peaking as I did so; clearly he was ensnared in my trap.

After I seemed to have his attention I launched into my pitch for more vacation time, taking a very short break in the middle to readjust my legs, flashing him once more. Just as I was finishing my request a pen rolled off his desk and landed just out of my reach. I stood up and bent over to pick it up; making sure that he got a good view of my ass. By the time I sat back down he was writing up the form to grant me more vacation time. It was another victory for my pantyhose.

Ladies, always remember the mystical power of pantyhose sex. They can make a man's mind turn to gravy if you use them right. Just be sure not to abuse your newfound power because it can get messy.

Claire
Seattle, WA