Sissy's Plumber Worships Her Silky Stocking Surprise

Sissy's Plumber Worships Her Silky Stocking Surprise

Sissy Lana smoothed the tiny black-and-white maid dress over her hips for the tenth time, the crisp fabric hugging her slim waist and flaring out just enough to show the lacy tops of her sheer black stockings. The garter straps bit deliciously into her smooth thighs every time she moved. Beneath the ruffled hem, her lace panties were already struggling. Her cock, tucked back between her legs, had been half-hard since she deliberately poured grease and coffee grounds down the kitchen sink that morning.

At twenty-eight, Lana lived for these moments. The click of her patent Mary Janes on the tile, the whisper of nylon, the way her long auburn wig brushed her bare shoulders. She dialed the plumbing company with a breathy little voice and waited.

Jake arrived twenty minutes later. He was exactly what she had hoped for: thirty-five, broad through the chest and shoulders, with a day’s stubble and forearms corded from real work. His gray work shirt stretched tight across his back as he carried his heavy toolbox through her front door. His eyes flicked over her immediately, lingering on the long, stocking-sheathed legs, the delicate ankles, the way the maid skirt barely covered the lace bands of her garters.

“Sink’s this way, big guy,” Lana purred, turning so the skirt swished and gave him a flash of thigh.

Jake cleared his throat. “Lead the way, ma’am.”

She did, deliberately slow, hips rolling. Every few steps she bent forward to “adjust” something on the counter, letting the skirt ride up until the dark bands of her stockings and the soft white skin above them were fully on display. She could feel his stare like heat on her ass.

In the kitchen, Jake set his toolbox down and crouched under the sink. Lana didn’t give him space. She hovered, handing him tools before he even asked, brushing her stocking-clad thigh against his thick shoulder each time. The coarse fabric of his shirt rasped against her nylon and the sensation made her cock twitch hard inside the delicate lace.

“Need the channel locks,” he muttered.

Lana bent at the waist, deliberately pressing her thigh fully against the side of his face as she reached past him into the toolbox. The movement lifted her skirt completely. Jake froze. His eyes were inches from the growing bulge straining the front of her panties, the fat head of her cock already leaking a wet spot against the lace.

For a second the only sound was the hum of the refrigerator.

Then Jake growled, low and rough. “Fuck… I knew it.”

Lana’s pulse spiked. She stayed bent over, letting him look. “Knew what, plumber?”

“That you weren’t just some housewife.” His voice had gone gravelly. “Been fantasizing about a girl like you for years. Pretty face, killer legs… and a fat little cock tucked in silk. Jesus Christ.”

The raw admission made Lana’s knees weak. She straightened, turned, and slowly lifted the front of her frilly maid skirt with both hands. The black lace panties were obscenely tented now, her cock throbbing visibly beneath the fabric.

Jake’s rough hand slid up her calf, palm rasping over the silky nylon. The contrast between his calloused skin and the delicate material made her shiver. He kept going, fingers tracing the seam at the back of her stocking, following the garter strap all the way to her upper thigh. When he reached the bare skin above the lace band he groaned like a starving man.

“These stockings… fuck, they’re so smooth,” he muttered, almost to himself. He leaned in and pressed his face to her thigh, inhaling the faint scent of her skin mixed with the silky fabric. His stubble scratched deliciously against the nylon.

Lana’s voice came out husky. “Then worship them, Jake. On your knees.”

He didn’t hesitate. The big, rugged plumber dropped right there on her kitchen floor, work boots scraping tile. His large hands cupped her ankles, thumbs stroking the sheer material as he kissed the tops of her feet. His tongue came out, licking a long, wet stripe up the arch of her foot, then higher, following the curve of her calf. Lana moaned softly, spreading her legs a little so he could devour every inch of her stockings.

When he reached her inner thighs he looked up, eyes dark with lust. “Let me taste that cock, baby.”

Lana hooked her thumbs in her panties and slid them to the side, freeing her smooth, shaved six-and-a-half-inch cock. It sprang up, flushed and leaking. Jake wasted no time. He opened wide and took her straight to the back of his throat in one hungry motion.

“Fuck!” Lana gasped, fingers tangling in his short hair.

He sucked her like a man possessed, sloppy and eager, spit running down his chin as he bobbed. One hand kept stroking her stocking-covered leg while the other cupped her balls, rolling them gently. Lana’s hips jerked, pushing deeper into his warm, wet mouth. The contrast of his rough, masculine face against her delicate lingerie and smooth cock was filthy perfection.

After several minutes of greedy sucking, Jake pulled off with a wet pop. “Turn around. I need that ass.”

Lana spun, bracing her hands on the cool granite counter and arching her back. Jake rose behind her, hands roaming up her thighs before he gripped the delicate fabric of her stockings. With a sharp rip, he tore a wide hole right over her smooth pink hole. The sound of shredding nylon made Lana’s cock throb painfully.

He didn’t bother with more foreplay. Spitting into his palm, he slicked his thick cock and pressed the fat head against her tight ring. Lana pushed back, eager. With a deep grunt, Jake sank into her in one long, relentless stroke.

“Oh my god, yes,” Lana moaned, eyes rolling back.

He was thick, stretching her open beautifully. Jake gave her only a moment to adjust before he started pounding, hips slapping against her ass with raw power. The torn edges of her stockings rubbed against his shaft with every thrust. One of his big hands reached around to stroke her cock in time with his fucking, rough fingers flying over her smooth skin.

The kitchen filled with the wet sounds of skin on skin, Lana’s breathy moans, and Jake’s low growls.

“Such a tight little sissy hole,” he snarled, slamming deeper. “Gonna fill it up.”

Lana was close already. The feeling of being bent over her own counter in her maid outfit, stockings ripped, cock milked while a real man railed her ass was too much. Jake suddenly pulled out, spun her around, and dropped onto his back on the kitchen floor.

“Ride me. Want to watch you.”

Lana didn’t need to be told twice. She kicked off her Mary Janes, straddled his hips, and sank back down onto his slick cock. The torn hole in her stockings framed the sight perfectly as she began to grind and bounce. Her own cock slapped against his hard abs with every movement.

Jake’s hands gripped her stocking-clad thighs, thumbs digging into the silky material as he thrust up to meet her. Lana rode him harder, faster, one hand braced on his chest, the other frantically jerking her own leaking dick.

“I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered.

“Do it. Spray me, baby.”

With a high, feminine cry, Lana came. Thick ropes of cum shot across Jake’s work shirt and bare chest in pulsing spurts. Her ass clenched hard around him as she kept riding through it.

Jake growled, hips stuttering. “Fuck, here it comes—”

He slammed up one last time and unloaded deep inside her. Lana could feel every hot spurt painting her insides, so much that it started to leak out around his cock and soak into the torn edges of her stockings.

They stayed locked together, panting, for a long minute.

Finally Lana eased off him, feeling his cum immediately start to drip down her thighs. She looked down at the mess she’d made on his chest, then smiled a wicked little smile.

“Lie back, plumber. I’m not finished with you yet.”

Jake obeyed, chest heaving. Lana lifted one stocking-covered foot, still shiny with a mix of her own spit from earlier and now streaked with leaking cum. She pressed her sole against his spent but still twitching cock and began to slowly stroke him. The silky nylon felt obscene sliding over his sensitive head. Jake groaned, eyes locked on the sight of her pretty foot working him.

She used both feet now, rubbing them together around his shaft, toes flexing in the sheer black material. It only took a couple of minutes before Jake was hard again, moaning helplessly as her cum-slick stockings milked the last heavy drops from his balls. A final weak spurt landed across the top of her foot.

Lana giggled, low and filthy, and made him watch as she brought her foot to her mouth and licked his cum off the nylon.

Jake stared like he’d seen God.

“Goddamn,” he breathed. “Anytime your pipes need servicing, you call me. Day or night. I’ll be here in twenty minutes flat.”

Lana stood over him in her ruined stockings, cum still trickling from her well-fucked ass, and gave him a sweet, filthy smile.

“Oh, I will,” she said softly, already calculating. “In fact… I think my bathroom faucet is going to start dripping tomorrow morning. Around ten. Be sure to bring your biggest wrench.”

Jake laughed, hoarse and satisfied, as he started pulling his clothes back together.

Lana watched him go, feeling his load shift inside her with every step. She ran her fingers over the huge rip in her stockings and shivered with fresh arousal.

Next time, she was going to wear the red ones. And she was going to make sure the “leak” was upstairs in the master bedroom shower.

She had three days to plan exactly how she was going to break that faucet on purpose.