Sissy's Handsome Houseguest Worships Her Silky Stocking Cock

The key clicked in the lock at 7:12 p.m. Lana was bent over the velvet ottoman in the living room, fingers sliding up the back of her left thigh to adjust the final garter clip. The sheer black stockings whispered against her skin with every movement, the delicate nylon stretched so tightly over her calves and thighs that the faint sheen caught the lamplight like liquid obsidian. Her thick cock, already half-hard from the thrill of dressing alone, pressed visibly against the front of the stockings, the wide head nudging obscenely against the delicate weave.

She heard the front door swing open behind her.

“Uh… Lana?”

Marcus’s deep voice cracked on her name. She straightened slowly, deliberately, letting the corset cinch her waist even tighter as she turned. The black satin corset hugged her like a second skin, pushing her small breasts up into soft cleavage while leaving her shoulders bare. Full makeup—smoky eyes, glossy crimson lips—framed her face. Her blonde wig fell in soft waves over one shoulder.

Marcus stood frozen in the doorway, duffel bag still in his hand. Twenty-four, broad-shouldered, the kind of straight guy who played rugby and talked about “chicks” like they were another species. His best friend—Lana’s stepbrother—had begged him to crash here for the weekend while he was stuck at a work conference. Marcus had said yes without thinking twice.

He was thinking twice now.

His hazel eyes dropped immediately to the obscene bulge tenting the front of her stockings. The thick shaft strained the nylon, the flared crown clearly outlined, a tiny wet spot already darkening the silk where she had leaked from the sheer friction.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. He didn’t look away.

Lana’s pulse hammered. She let one manicured hand rest on her hip, cock twitching visibly under his stare.

“Marcus,” she said, voice low and smoky. “You’re early.”

He swallowed so hard she heard it. “Door was open. I texted Jake but—he’s really not here?”

“Gone till Monday.” She took one deliberate step toward him. The stockings made a soft shhh sound. “You can still leave if the sight of me makes you uncomfortable.”

His gaze flicked up to her face, then helplessly back down to her silk-sheathed cock. “I… I don’t think I can.”