The

Kink Alchemist

Cotton turns to Fetish Gold

Men E. Love

Prologue

Have you ever got more than you bargained for? We certainly did. I mean, I really wondered I’d seen it all. I strutted about like the cock of the roost and nothing could faze me. Then Mitzi knocked on my door. It was quite out of the blue. My face must have been a right picture when my jaw dropped. I stared, on my doorstep, dumbfounded. In fact, I only vaguely recognised her face and I definitely couldn’t remember her name. I fumbled awkwardly trying to recall who she was as I let her into my flat. We laughed. We laughed and reminisced.

Mitzi used to go boxing whilst others went Night-Clubbing. That’s how she kept fit. In my early twenties, I fantasised about her leaning on tip-toes over a ring-side stool in red, laced-up boxing boots. Her dark, bare olive shoulders were sheened from exercise and her arse looked honed in tight, satin boxing shorts. How I used to wank as I peeled off her shiny, tight shorts and satin G-string, to rub a fat, red vinyl boxing glove over her clit. Her girlish moans were more than I could handle. Imagining her contorted face, in ecstasy, and her sopping wet pussy sent me over the edge.

I told her about my fantasy many years later after her marriage hit the rocks and she surprised me with that visit. “Talk about opportunity knocks!” She laughed.

“You were a very naughty boy,” she smiled. “I had the hots for you too — I had the hots, indeed – especially for your thick muscled thighs. You soon beefed up when you started playing rugby. Did you keep it up at University?” I didn’t.

We talked and laughed. We laughed and grew closer. Mitzi and me saw a lot of each other. One evening, in front of the television she said, “Stan, I want to show you something.” Intrigued, I sat up.

She stood up in her short floral skirt and asked, “Do you remember my boxing gloves?” I laughed, felt a little embarrassed, and nodded. Her hazel eyes danced with mischief. She leaned against my armchair and teased up her hem. “Well, I have preferences too.”

I gasped. I absolutely shook. Her derriere was just as I’d imagined it in those red, satin boxing shorts. The purple, high-leg PVC panties were no less alluring. The plastic was creased tight across her bum as she leaned how I’d imagined her in my youth.

“Well? Speak up, Stan. What do you…” She didn’t finish as I was pulling her knickers elastics and drinking in the scents. My nose filled with her musk and the sweet smell of PVC. Her knickers creaked as she sat down and let me in-between her sun-bleached legs.

I eased her out of her frock and bra then teased her dark, perky nipples. I rolled and scraped her titty tips with my nails. She writhed and groaned just as she’d done in my private time. I was soon willing to head South.

Her deep, shiny purple PVC royal knix were high-cut on her legs. Her waist was adorned with a saucy buckle which topped a full-length zip. I was all thumbs as I unbuckled her and un-zipped her noisy plastic knickers. Her kinky framed quim looked quite the delight as I opened her up to venture.

My tongue darted. It flicked and circled. I wanted more of her metallic, musky juices. I teased her pussy with my teeth. I nipped. I gently muzzled her dark, landing-strip with my cheek and chin. How she purred. She pulled me in closer then pulled my hair back. Impatiently, my swollen length soon found home. How we came. How we rocked like two lovers in the movies. Her plastic caressed my inner thighs as I thrust. She shuddered like an animal and I exploded inside her frenzy.

We cuddled as I thumbed the crisp folds of her kink. Mitzi had an idea. I listened. Then I nodded. I told her I agreed. So we surfed the net for more kink, more kink for both Mitzi and me. The parcel soon arrived. I’d been so impatient.

“Open it,” cried Mitzi. “Draw the curtains! It’s time for a fashion show.”

I did what the good lady asked. I pulled the curtains and ripped open the large parcel. There were chains and nipple toys and all kinds of PVC. There was also, nestled amid our ‘Pandora’s Box’, a free heart-shaped, candy lollipop.

Mitzi shrilled, “Do you like what you see?” I looked her in the eyes and aped perplexing. “Hmm! I’m not sure,” I joked waving the free red lollipop. And that was when it happened. As I waved the lolly, Mitzi’s jeans turned into plastic chaps. Her cotton thong was transformed into a studded PVC string. I didn’t know where to look.

“Did this lollipop do that? Did it just turn your cotton briefs to kinky knickers?” My mouth gaped wide.

“Oh yes,” she sang. “It certainly did. That magic lolly turned water into wine. And now it’s time we took your sweets for a walk. It’s time we went to town.”