These black stockings were supposed to last the night. Dinner, maybe dancing. But you texted me dirty things during dessert, and I came home aching, still dressed, desperate. Fingers inside before I reached the bedroom, my thighs still warm from the car ride where I almost touched myself at the red light. I found the spot fast tonight, thinking of your weight on me, your cock instead of my fingers, how you d tear these nylons to get to me. The squirt surprised even me, sudden, endless, my stockings clinging soaked to my shaking legs. I took this video still trembling. Come finish what you started.
