Beg for My Sheer Black Stockings

My sheer black stockings descend like moonlit smoke, sole to ankle to calf, every stretch of nylon creaking your willpower thinner. One pointed toe and your breath hitches; a single heel dangle turns your vocabulary to whimpers. Hear the whisper of mesh as I cross these pale, 5’10” legs… Crawl closer… maybe I’ll let your desperation fog the screen.