I think its okay to wear short skirts as long as your sure about your intentions, I mean are they a fashion statement or are they a staement which says I'm looking for a fuck today or I suppose look at at me, my arse see if you can catch a glimpse of my panties cos i love making guys hard cos Im a cock teaser! Right? Heres a story by a lady who choose to wear a short skirt and no panties because she wanted sex

Debbbies tale

I wore a mini skirt with no panties, and a top that unbuttons on the front. I wore no bra, and only two of the buttons were left buttoned, just to cover my breasts.
After we got into the club, I immediately went to the bar. I had had a tough day at work, and I needed something to take off the edge. I ordered a bloody mary, and settled into one of the stools.
I started scopeing out the place when i felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and this gorgeous guy was smiling at me. He was around 5'11'', and had brown hair and dark green eyes that were dancing all over my body. When he looked back up at my face, I was batting my eyelashes, and daring him to ask me to dance.
He sat down next to me and ordered a rum and coke. "Do you come here often" he asked."Yes", I answered, "But most of the guys just want to take you out the door and fuck you in a car, and I came here to dance.""Well my lady, let me make your wish come true." He stood up and held out his hand. I took it, and he led me to the dance floor.
It was a fast rap song, and he knew how to handle himself. He knew how to break dance better than anyo

ne I had ever seen. When finally a slow song came on, we were both out of breath so we sat down in a booth with our drinks.
He started to tell me a little more about himself, and an hour or so went by with us just talking.
"So, I went to Harvard, and got my law degree, and here I am." He finished his story and I was ready to take him home and show him some of my loving. When I told him this, he said lets dance. It was a slow song again, and we started out not to close, but he put his hand on my hip, and pulled me into his dick. I could feel that it was real hard and so I started grinding my pussy against it. He took me farther away from the band, and into one of the darker corners of the room. We were still dancing, but now he had his hand in my shirt, and he was pinching my nipple, making it harder then his cock. I unbuttoned the rest of my shirt and pulled his mouth onto my nipple where he started sucking like crazy. I started to groan a little bit, and while he was still sucking on my nipple, he unbuckled his pants and wipped out one of the biggest dicks I have ever seen.
"Oh my God,

how big is that monster?" I wanted it so bad."9 inches of man meat baby!"
I got down on my knees and he pushed my back against the wall. He put two hands on the wall, and I started sucking this fucking animal. He started thrusting his hips making his cock go in and out of my mouth. I didn't mind that it choked me a little bit. I was hungry and my God he was feeding me.
When his cock was fully hard, he took it out of my mouth, and I stood up wondering what was going on.
"I'm gonna fuck your brains out so get ready bitch."
He pushed the rest of my skirt up and he saw how I had no panties on."Man, you are a slut!"

wearing a mini skirt can be revealing

There is a hoary economic adage that skirts get shorter as the economy flourishes, in which case we may be seeing, if not the green shoots of recovery, then the mottled thighs suggestive of some sort of rallying.
For not only was there a solid showing for the miniskirt index on the autumn/winter catwalks, but a survey by Debenhams has revealed that women are clinging on to their minis for longer. Where once they would take cover in demure knee-lengths during their early thirties, so now they are strutting their high-hemmed stuff until the age of 40.

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This may be all very well if one is a fortysomething in the guise of Demi "I haven't had surgery" Moore (46), but the rest of us may be feeling a slight frisson of terror as we catch autumn's first nip in the air.
'Twas ever thus. Renaissance beauties outraged their contemporaries in nipple-grazing frocks; Regency fashionistas competed for the flimsiest, most figure-hugging materials.
But the miniskirt was genuinely revolutionary. Flappers had gone short-skirted in the Twenties, but short only relative to their buttoned-up Edwardian forebears. The mini, as its name suggests, was the real deal.
We Brits can take some pride in this. For the mini was a street-up fashion phenomenon that issued from Mary Quant's King's Road emporium, Bazaar, and the more recherché Carnaby Street boutiques. As London started swinging, so hemlines veered upwards, and the world of high fashion followed suit.
It was the same period that Larkin identifies as being when sexual intercourse began, namely: "In nineteen sixty-three/ (which was rather late for me) –/ Between the end of the Chatterley ban/ And the Beatles' first LP."
This was fashion as mission creep. If skirts had ventured above the knee in 1961, they had reached the upper thighs by 1966.
The mini was seized upon as a symbol of liberation – social, sexual and sartorial – championed by feminists such as Germaine Greer and Gloria Steinem. However, where women thought "freedom", many men thought "fetishism", and the easy-access mini became a staple of pornography. Google "miniskirt" today and unsavoury material will crop up on the first page.
The fact that the mini originated as a teen style makes a good deal of this material more dubious still. Sixties' chicks may have been rebelling by not wanting to look like their mothers, but the association between the short skirt and youth threw up a good many less positive associations.
Its principal poster girls were just this, girls – Twiggy, The Shrimp – their very nicknames emphasising their gamine slenderness. Teens were the scene, but the aesthetic teetered toward the prepubescent with miniskirted baby-dolls, gymslips, and pinafores.
Appropriate, then, that in the back-to-school week, minds should be turning to the vexed question of whether one has to be of school age to sport a mini.
Of course, the idea that fashion dictates fixed wear-by dates went out with the ark, or, more specifically, the girdle. In this age of nutritional neuroticism and hot and cold running yoga, many women will feel fitter and more confident at 40 than they did at 20.
Moreover, in the wake of rule-book dressing, she may feel as liberated as her mother did first time around by the joie de vivre of the mini – not least, as she can now team it with state-of-the-art hosiery, leggings, jeans, thigh boots, or anything else she damn well pleases.
The trick is to cultivate a look that says insouciance rather than working girl. Thus, it is as well not to team a mini with show-stopping cleavage. It is also worth having an eye to Lucie Clayton-style deportment when scooping things off the floor. Other than this, the rallying cry should be that greatest of all fashion mantras: enjoy!












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After Caroline’s steamy call with Nicky and the subsequent excitement of getting dolled up for her first night out, Caroline teetered on high heels gazing at two incredibly sexy women staring back at each other in the room mirror. Nicky had been such a wave of encouragement and activity and the afternoon’s glow from the encounter with Helen was still strong. Caroline’s heart raced as Nicky called for the cab and grabbed her manicured hand as they left the room.

In the elevator they were ogled at by four male delegates from the conference, but Caroline just smiled and demurely looked down to survey her long, long nylon encased legs as they disappeared into sexy black high heels. Their heels clicking on the marbled floor of the lobby, they handed their keys to a smiling female receptionist who just winked at them and the bell boy, eyes almost popping out of his head, opened the taxi door.

"Galore wine bar please" breathed Nicky, "certainly, ladies." The cabbie checked out their long legs as he pulled out of the hotel entrance and Nicky threaded her arm through Caroline’s, whispering, "This has just got to be the best way to go out." Caroline smiled a little nervously, her eyes glistening behind the mask of makeup.

They arrived outside the wine bar a few minutes later, the sun still shone as it was early evening and a few business types were chatting outside the bar. Caroline got out first, remembering to keep her long legs together so as not to give the men a flash of her generous corsetry. Nicky paid and the cab drew off, they were both conscious of the eyes of almost every male at the kerbside were all over them. Grabbing Nicky’s elbow, Caroline steered her into the relative safety of the bar, or so she hoped.

Eyes adjusting after the sunlight outside, the interior of the bar seemed empty. A waitress in a short black skirt and white blouse came up to them, "hi, my name’s Katrina, would you like a table or a booth, ladies?" Both Caroline and Nicky said "booth" and Katrina led them to a small booth set for four, they ordered drinks, a gin and tonic for Caroline and a white wine spritzer for Nicky. They smiled at each other; Nicky took Caroline’s hand,
"Relax, girl, this is Brighton, the swinging capital of England and, anyway, you look sensational." Caroline smiled froze on her face as she spied two people coming into the bar, one was clearly Helen and her tall, coloured partner must be Gina. They were identically dressed in black tuxedo with their hair tied back and little make-up.

Caroline waved at Helen who rushed over to the booth, dragging Gina with her.
"Jesus, you two look stunning, if I was really a guy I’d be making one hell of a mess in these pants instead of just getting somewhat damp." She smiled lasciviously and licked her lips, "Caroline, this is my best fried, Gina and you must be Nicky, you’re gorgeous, I just love the retro styling of your skirt."
Caroline rose and air kissed Gina, then Helen kissed her full on the lips. Nicky got similar attention from both the new arrivals. The foursome sat closely together and Helen called Katrina over and ordered a bottle of house champagne. Helen’s hand wandered to Caroline’s stocking clad thigh and felt up to the suspenders, she leant over to Caroline’s ear, "God, you are so fabulous, I’m not sure who is the guy any more, but who cares?"
Nicky and Gina were already holding hands and Caroline felt Nicky’s hand on her other leg, this was already overheating and it was only early evening. The champagne arrived and they toasted their new found friendships, rapidly emptying the bottle and consuming the contents of a second. Caroline was feeling a bit tipsy, "I’m hungry," she breathed trying not to reveal her normally deep voice. They all agreed to disentangle themselves and, after some debate, agreed on a Chinese meal. Standing up from the booth, the "men" offered to pay and Nicky grabbed Caroline, heading for the toilets.

"This is just fantastic", Nicky chatted over the stall wall as they both relieved themselves and proceeded to touch up their lipsticks in the mirror. "Helen and Gina are both very hot, and so are you" she winked. Nicky grabbed Caroline’s hand and thrust it up her tight pencil skirt so that Caroline’s hand felt the huge bulge in her lingerie. Caroline responded by pushing Nicky back through an open stall door and kissing her aggressively on the lips. Panting, they bolted the door and Caroline lifted her tight dress hem, pulling her engorged member out of the confines of her panties. Eyes wide at the size of the erection, Nicky sat down on the toilet seat and took the cock into her lipstick smeared mouth Caroline moaned softly as Nicky engulfed part of the shaft whilst running her long nails up and down the base of the shaft, massaging Caroline’s balls which were still inside the tight panties. The excitement of the evening and the sheer debauchery of the situation made Caroline whimper before, seconds later, grabbing Nicky’s head and face fucking her as cum spurted into the sexy mouth below. Nicky licked Caroline’s cock clean and smoothly stood up, turning Caroline around so that her panty covered arse was in front of the massive bulge in the fabric of Nicky’s pencil skirt. Pulling Caroline’s panties down her stocking clad legs, Nicky hefted up her skirt and pulled her erection out of her panties. Licking her fingers she inserted first one, then two into Caroline’s love hole before guiding her own engorged cock into Caroline’s waiting entrance. They stood still for a millisecond before Caroline pushed back to let all of Nicky slide into her and they bucked madly together until Caroline felt the huge shaft grow inside her and a warmness fill her aching rectum.
Nicky withdrew and replaced her shrinking cock into her panties, passing a tampon to Caroline from her handbag. "You’ll need this with that short dress," she whispered. Caroline inserted the tampon to prevent unwanted leakages and they returned to the washbasins to freshen up and reapply their makeup

Back in the bar, Helen and Gina smiled at them, "what kept you?" Gina grinned at Nicky. "Oh, something just came up." She quipped and, laughing, they strode out into the night arm in arm.