Date: Wed, 3 Oct 2012 01:31:35 +0100
From: tina foster <tinafosteruk@gmail.com>
Subject: Fine Feelin Lingerie (TV Encounters M/teen)

By Reading this, you acknowledge that it's intended for adults only, like
the rest of the work of tinafosteruk@gmail.com

If you're not old enough to read this, "why are you here?? Go away..."

To those who enjoy reading these, thank you for your attention. It's
appreciated.

*

Fine feeling lingerie – Chapter One


I haven't touched any fine feeling lingerie for far too long. But, that'll
change tonight, courtesy of a meeting I had on the train, just this
morning.

I'd been sittin there with the window to my right, as we travelled
forward. And, as I'd been scribbling away with pen and paper when a shadow
had been cast over my work.

There was this bouncey-looking slightly built Emo-boy looking to me,
seeming to be aged anywhere from to sixteen to seventeen, no more.

"'Eh mate are you..." he had begun, hand immediately on my right
inner-thigh. `Huh!?!'

"My names James Dent. My mates over there figure you're queer are you...?"
and, I'd had looked `over there', where the other three sat, all girls,
beehive, lipsticks and thin hips and red lips - y'know the kind?

"Well, she says I need to meet one and... well... I'm askin." His eyes had
been all brown and beseeching and, his hand felt good where it did, so I'd
not told him where to go; but hissed: `You be quiet, sissy. Do you have
somewhere to accommodate?"

"Accommodate?" He'd repeated, dumbly.

"Yes, place where we can..." I had begun, very aware that his friends were
watching us and, he nodded quickly then said, "Oh yeah, my folks are out
tonight and, all weekend and..."

"Shut up!" I'd hissed: "What's the address?" And, he'd told me. Needless to
say, I'd pushed the pen toward him, with the idea of writing it down; he
had done so, quickly.

I knew they could not see what transpired between us, as all they could see
was his back: "Now go back to your mates," I'd told him, "And, tell him I
told you to `piss off' alright?" And I had pushed him away and toward the
seat in front of me.

He had stood away from me and smiled, then answered, "Sure." But his eyes
had remained fixed on mine: and his fingertips had lingered a moment,
before he turned away. It was as he did so, my eyes had fixed on the red
and white yachting pumps on his feet and his fine pert butt, in those
tight, ever-so tight black jeans; `my-my, he had looked good.'

Then as he went back to his friends I looked at the sheet on which he'd
written his address, `to accommodate,' which turned out to be near where I
lived. Well, near enough to walk. And, there with the address was his
phone-number.

Seeing that phone number gave me an idea.

I would phone him, to see just how interested he actually was, before I did
anything else at all.

"I'll give you a call," I'd said quietly: "And, I'll tell you what to wear,
for me."

"To wear?" He'd queried and momentarily I'd wondered if I'd lost my edge,
if I'd had to explain it to him.

"You want to learn and, I'll teach you. But, I want you to dress, for
me. Alright?!" And I'd almost snapped `alright', before realising we were
being watched still.

"Alright..." He had repeated in a whisper shyly and, I'm realised that he
was going to be mine, there and then.

I had then looked in the window a wry smile on my face as I watched his
reflection as he rejoined his friends.

They had poked fun at him giggling, until they got off at the station
before mine, stopping a moment at the exit, to look at me and giggle
further.

`Maybe I'll have a young sissy giggling, for me later?' I'd mused at that
point.

And the image of that slightly built young man, dressed to please me, kept
me smiling the rest of the journey.

Then once home I'd removed my coat, cap and glasses, then looked in the
mirror: my open jacket revealing the shirt I wore, or rather didn't, with
three of the six buttons undone, to show off a hirsute chest on a lean
frame and, the Ankh I wore round my neck.

My jeans fitted well, with the bulge at the front a real testament to my
anticipation, for the evening. And, as it happens, I'd waited thirty
minutes arriving home, before phoning young James. I'd made a distinct
effort not to bring myself off, before phoning. But, I had two very stiff
whiskies though... `Stiff...?' Oh, how I'd been stiff, as I'd set my pad on
the table and, dialled the number the youth had written down.

"Oh... hello..." he responded breathlessly, "I only just heard it... heard
the phone..."  Then, he'd added, "I do hope you've not had to wait too
long..."

It'd been obvious he was nervous and, anxious to please.

`He'd even sounded like his subbie-side was coming out,' I'd mused,
thinking back to how eager he'd seemed back then. Almost like... a little
puppy.

"I wrote down the address with the number Sir, what else do you need?" He'd
asked me sounding suddenly very anxious. I had liked the `Sir' bit...

"For a start, my young sissy, shut up and, listen... alright?" I snapped,
trying to sound stern, as if it seemed warranted.

"Erm yes Sir..." He'd gulped, a distinct tremble to his voice.

"Now, you will be ready, for eight. IF, you're still up for this," I'd said
simply.

"Oh Sir... I'll be ready," he'd assured me: "What should I wear Sir?"

"Just a pair of tight, stockings, or self-support hose and, a full-length
slip. You can find those?" I queried of young James.

"I've... I've seen those things in my Mum's room," he told me, "I can get
them..."

"Well," I had begun, "you'll be wearing those things for me, when you
answer the door. And, perhaps a little lipstick would be nice... Yes, wear
lipstick..."

"Yessir... Is that all?" He'd responded, once again sounding eager.

"Yes," I'd added, "I want you to use two Vaseline coated fingers, to open
your backside, before pulling on the tights... alright? `Coz you see, I
will probably want to play and, it'll make it easier for you, if you're
prepared."

I wanted to know that he'd want this. After pausing a moment, I continued.

"I'll ask again, are you sure about this, Sissy?" And, I don't know why I
called him that, but maybe I had reasons, somewhere in my backbrain.

"Oh yes," he'd assured me eagerly.

"Then you'll find a full-length slip, some tights and some lippy, alright
Sissy?" I'd reminded him: "And, you'll use two fingers, to get ready, for
me?"

"Yessir..." he'd responded quietly.

"And, when you answer the door to me, you'll be looking pretty and, be
ready to be obedient, for me?" I added.

"Yessir," he'd repeated quickly and, just as quietly.

"Well then, I'll see you later... and, look forward to seeing all of
me... if you want, that is?" I had teased.

"Oh... I so want more... much more than..." he trailed off: and I surmised
then and there, this lad had stories of his own, to tell me.

Having set the receiver down, I adjusted myself, recalling my plan not to
cum, before he would, though the temptation to pleasure, while
contemplating the evenings events was great.

But, I had distraction; I had the computer and my emails to check, as well
as deciding just what to wear for the evening. And, I check the clock,
`nearly four.'