As a woman in the 1990’s, I don’t exactly reflect the trend toward androgyny current among many twenty-year-olds. Old-fashioned is perhaps the best way to describe me. My head and heart seem to be rooted in the pre-Woodstock days when women were women and the men were glad of it. I’m not knocking today’s lifestyle, it’s just not my cup of tea.

I love to dress up and be as feminine as I can. You’ll never see me in jeans or sweatshirts. For me it’s always skirts or dresses, whether they be evening gowns or daring miniskirts. And I’m practically always in heels; the only time I wear sneakers is to exercise. Underneath it all, I delight in wearing the finest, frilliest lingerie I can get my hands on.

My love of diaphanous underwear has made my sex life a passionate and heated one. There’s nothing like the sight of me walking toward the bed in a satin-and-lace bustier, a garter belt, stockings and black high heels to jump-start a man. Men appreciate the way I try to turn them on, and their arousal seems to be never-ending. And believe me, it thrills me as well. Wrapping my nylon-covered legs around a strong man’s torso as he fucks me hard is a pleasure I relive again and again.

The first time I saw the sparkle of lustful delight in a man’s eyes upon my revealing my lingerie-clad form was with my first lover, Dana. He was my college boyfriend. I had made it to graduation with my chastity intact, even after his repeated efforts to persuade me to yield. For two years he had had to make due with the occasional handjob.

I had planned for my deflowering to be the night of my sorority’s graduation dance. I was dressed to the nines in a knockout, royal-blue evening gown. It was cut low enough to show a hint of cleavage and tight enough to accentuate my curvy figure. Dana looked so handsome in his tuxedo.

We had a wonderful evening, and during our last dance, I whispered to Dana that I had booked a room at a local inn and that he should take me there right away. He didn’t hesitate, and we left the dance and rode to the hotel in silence, our hearts pounding. Upon arriving, we ordered some champagne from room service and toasted to our wonderful evening. Then I told him I was going to get comfortable, and suggested he do the same. I slipped into the bathroom.

My plan was proceeding like clockwork. In the bathroom I removed my dress and checked myself in the mirror. Earlier that week I had made some special purchases at a local boutique, and I was sure Dana would be very happy to see them. I was wearing a shiny satin bustier with lace overlays and plenty of ribbons and ruffles. My bikini panties were so tiny, I had shaved down my pubic hair a bit so it wouldn’t stick out. My stockings were held up with garters. In my handbag I’d been carrying a very flimsy bed jacket, which I now put on. I reapplied my deep red lipstick and set out.

Dana was in bed under the covers, obviously naked. He had dimmed the lights. Romance was almost palpable in the air. I walked toward him, feeling my breasts sway as I moved. Dana’s eyes seemed to double in size when he drank me in. I climbed into bed and kicked my shoes off, then struck a sexy pose on my side, with my top leg drawn up toward my stomach.

“Hey there, big guy,” I said in my huskiest Kathleen Turner-like voice.

“Melissa, you’re so beautiful,” Dana said as he reached out to me. I fell into his arms, my long nails gently scratching his chest. His nipples were erect with excitement, and I began to lick and suck them as his strong hands held me tight, stroking my back, squeezing my ass.

I’m not so old-fashioned as to believe that a woman can’t be the aggressor every now and then, so I pushed Dana onto his back and pulled down the covers. His erection stood proudly, and I wanted nothing more than to take it in my mouth. So I did. It tasted so good! I ran my tongue up and down his length and tickled the glans. Then I swallowed him as best I could, my hands busy massaging his heavy balls. Dana was unable to form sentences, his only sounds an incoherent babble of encouragement. I had never sucked a cock before, but from Dana’s happy expression I knew I was doing an excellent job.

Soon enough I felt the first spray of my lover’s semen as it splashed against my throat. My first reaction was surprise, but I kept his spurting cock in my mouth and gulped down his sweet liquid. Then we looked at each other, both of us grinning like Cheshire cats.

“Now I’m going to eat you up,” he said, rolling me over onto my back. I was so excited that I was shaking uncontrollably. Dana’s hands weren’t too steady either as he pulled my panties down. I unhooked the back of my bustier, and my breasts spilled into view. He sat back on his haunches for a moment to admire the view, making me giggle with embarrassment. He whistled long and low and then took my breasts in his hands, fondling them, feeling their weight. My pink nipples were erect and tingling, and Dana quickly sucked one into his greedy mouth. My head sank back in the fluffy pillows.

As Dana nibbled on my tits, I felt his cock against my leg. He had great powers of recuperation, and I helped him along by rubbing my nylon-covered leg against him. He exhaled passionately and told me how great that felt. Then he kissed his way down my chest in a straight line, stopping when he reached the top of my pubic bone. My pussy, which no man had seen before, lay waiting for his kiss. It was dripping wet.

But first Dana grabbed the bottle of champagne and poured a little bit on my belly. A small puddle formed in the hollow of my stomach, and it was all I could do to keep from shrieking with laughter. He lapped up the bubbly and then, his tongue still coated with it, applied his mouth to my virgin cunt. I nearly went through the roof.

That night took place five years ago, but I still remember the electricity that coursed through my body as Dana began licking my pussy. He knew exactly what to do — running his tongue up and down the lips, biting them gently, tenderly tickling my clitoris with his finger. In no time at all, I was grinding myself against his face, my legs wrapped around his head. I came with a powerful force, screaming my lover’s name over and over again.

It took me a few moments to come back from the upper stratosphere and focus my eyes. When I did I saw Dana’s hard cock pointing skyward. Wanting him inside me, I spread my legs and pointed my toes at the ceiling. He grabbed my right leg and held it firmly at the ankle. Once again rubbing his cock against the gossamer material of my hose, he kissed my feet through the nylon, making me giggle some more. My giggles turned to sighs and whispers as he kissed his way down my leg, spending a wonderful few moments on the back of my knee. I was ready for his big cock and told him so.

With the skill of a diamond-cutter, Dana slipped his hard-on into my buttery pussy. He moved only a fraction of an inch at a time, allowing me to accept him at my own pace. There was a little pain, but it was soon overwhelmed by a rhapsodic pleasure. Eventually he was balls-deep inside me. He held still, letting me become accustomed to his size. All I could do was mutter, “Oh, God, oh, sweet God,” over and over again.

I was ready for the next step. “Fuck me, Dana,” I whispered huskily. He started up his engine, his cock moving inside me with growing speed. With each thrust the bedsprings squeaked and the headboard knocked against the wall. I loved it and wrapped my legs around him, spinning a cocoon of nylon and lace around his beautiful body.

Perhaps because I had waited until I was really ready, the relinquishing of my virginity was a glorious moment in my life. Dana and I knew each other so well that we worked together like old dance partners. I dug my nails into his back as he filled me repeatedly with his swollen cock while pressing his mouth against my ear and whispering sweet nothings to me. I held on tight for the fantastic ride and hoped it would never end. But of course it did, with a crescendo of orgasmic cries. Dana came deep inside me, and I shivered my way through my second pinnacle of the evening.

Dana and I amicably parted ways a year later, and I wound up in New York. My love of fine clothing had inspired me to get a job with a design film. For a while I was a free agent, dating many men, a few of whom were given my private fashion show. Then I met Leo.

Leo is a bit older than I am — I affectionately call him “the Gray Fox” — but a kinder, sweeter, more generous man couldn’t exist. Once I forgot about our age difference, it became easy to fall deeply in love with him. He was surprised and flattered by the attention I gave him, and our first night together was one of those magic occasions a girl dreams about. Leo was gentle, yet very virile, showering my body with kisses and caresses and ably fucking me like the king of the jungle.

I knew we were made for each other when I stayed at his house one weekend. I got up early to make breakfast, and when I came back into !he bedroom, I found Leo masturbating, one of my stockings wrapped around his purple cock. He was a bit embarrassed, but I assuaged his fears, sitting next to him on the bed and urging him to continue.

“I want to watch you jerk off,” I told him. “Shoot your hot come all over my stocking.” This kind of dirty talk erased his awkwardness, and he resumed stroking his hard-on. I cuddled with him, running my fingers lazily up and down his chest and stomach, blowing into his ear and licking the edge of it hungrily, whispering to him how marvelously sexy he was and how much I loved his big cock.

Leo told me how he loved the feel of my silky things against his skin and that he couldn’t resist grabbing a moment for himself with which to start the day. I told him that I had dressed that way for him. Seconds later he shot a mighty blast of semen that arced in the air and splattered on my arm and breasts. His second and third eruptions were less powerful and coated my stocking with a sticky mess. I told him to lie still and disappeared, taking the stocking with me. I came back with a hot towel and cleaned him up. Later that day, we decided we should marry.

For our wedding night, I wanted to wear some lingerie !hat would knock Leo’s socks off. He had seen all of my collection: my teddies, my camisoles and every silk thing I owned. I wanted to try something new and a little different to commemorate the occasion. I must have spent an hour in a fancy boutique, picking up dozens of items and then putting them down, not certain they were right. Finally I came across a beautiful step-in chemise; it was all lace and nylon and virgin white; it seemed so appropriate for one’s wedding night. To complete the picture, I bought myself some white satin high-heeled slippers with little puff balls on the toes. I made my purchases and eagerly awaited Leo’s expression when he saw them adorning my figure.

Our wedding was beautiful. Leo was in tails, and I was in a classic bridal gown with a long train and my grandmother’s veil. The reception was loads of fun, but as the night wore on, I began to think about the consummation of our marriage. I think Leo was in the mood also, for he began to get frisky with me as we sat at our table, pinching my bottom and “accidentally” brushing against my breasts.

Good things come to those who wait, and before long we were in our honeymoon suite overlooking Central Park. I ducked into the bathroom to put on my surprise. Reapplying my makeup, I also put a little rouge on my nipples to make them really show through the white material of the chemise, and I put a little perfume on my panties. When I came out I found Leo on the balcony in a short robe and with a drink in his hand. He turned around and when he saw me, a smile brightened his face. He came to me and kissed me hungrily, his arms going around me in a comforting embrace. I melted on the spot, telling my new husband how much I wanted him to fuck me.

Leo took me by the hand and led me to the bed. I sat down and opened his robe, and his manhood bobbed in front of me. I engulfed it with my mouth effortlessly — it was a perfect fit. Leo ran his tough yet gentle hands through my curly blonde tresses. When he was near exploding, he signaled me to stop and joined me on the bed. He held me close and we ground against each other, his cock sandwiched in the lacy folds of my chemise. Leo’s fingers sneaked beneath the elastic of my panties and touched my wetness. I moaned with delight.

Maneuvering Leo so that he ended on his back, I straddled him and, with my panties still on but pushed to one side, mounted his raging cock. I undulated atop him, writhing happily as he cupped my aching breasts. We fucked this way until I tired, and quickly Leo flipped me over onto my stomach, preparing to take me from behind like an animal.

He pulled my panties halfway down and gazed at my ass. “As beautiful a sight as I’ve ever seen,” he exclaimed, running his fingertips along the cheeks and pushing them into the crack. Then he sank his erection into my cunt, and our hips locked. With one hand I grabbed the pillow in front of me; the other busied itself fiddling with my clitoris. I was drunk with passion as my beautiful husband buried his cock inside me, repeating my name in his baritone voice.

With a shout, Leo announced that he was going to come. I pulled away from him, swinging around so I could taste his love. His first salvo splashed against my breasts, but I captured the remainder in my sucking mouth. He looked down at me with deep love in his eyes and told me I was the most wonderful woman he had ever met.

“And you’re the most wonderful man I’ve met,” I said, stroking his spent erection.

So began our marriage. Our sex life has never flagged, and if it threatens to do so, I make a trip to any one of several lingerie shops, looking for the latest from Paris or Hollywood to spice things up. When I come home and Leo sees a box from one of these stores, he drops whatever he’s doing and rushes to the bedroom. I’m always right behind him.