(This fantasy is an experiment. I received a 'request' to blend some of my desires with those of another reader. I don't know how it may be received, but I'm giving it an effort.)
Summer is usually a better time of year for me, but this takes place in winter. Winter seems to be more conducive to these type of scenarios....
He had been watching her for months. Not in a stalker's way..just observing her. She lived right next door. He'd known her for years. They were acquaintances, but neither seemed to date anyone.
Today, he decided to approach her. He was watching her through a window at the rear of her house, from his deck on the back of his own. Again, he was not "peeping". She had left the drapes open, and anyone could see what she was doing. He watched her today as she was doing her laundry.
She was meticulous. And today, very careful. She seemed to be attending to some of her more 'delicate' garments. Several pieces of lingerie, two or three slip-dresses, and a couple of nightgowns.
He had seen her on occasion in the evenings, walking through her house, wearing a long silk gown, with a matching robe. It looked like it was a pale pink. It flowed around her like a pool of liquid, or almost a cloudy mist. Gods she was beautiful. The clothing she chose to wear was perfect. Almost 19th century. Very feminine.
He wondered why she never took her silks and satins to the dry cleaners. She always laundered them herself. And the way she wore them was almost sensual itself. There was almost a reverence there, as she softly folded the delicate gowns and silks, walking to another part of the house, where he lost sight of her.
It was late afternoon, and the temperature was dropping. Many of the houses in this neighborhood had wood-burning fireplaces. Her house and his were a couple of those. He noted the smell of wood smoke, and saw she had a fire going in her fireplace. He loved the smell of wood smoke. It reminded him of his grandmothers house. He remembered a time, long ago, when he was a young boy.....alone in grandmas's house, in the basement. Where she did all her ironing and laundry. One day he found her ironing board set up, and a small pile of clothes she was going to iron. Apparently, she had planned to do some silks first, and then move on to the heavier fabrics. For some reason, to this day unknown, he was compelled to turn on the old iron....listening to it click as it heated up. He had taken a silk slip from the pile and placed it on the ironing board. Picking up the heavy iron, he began to iron the slip.... and then did something that was the start of a lifelong string of searches and experiments to satisfy an urge. He stopped moving the iron across the slip. Just let it sit there....and her turned up the temperature. Higher, and higher..... he found himself with an erection, and the need to touch himself as he watched the scene before him. The slip began to burn under the iron. With one hand he was pleasuring himself, and with the other he lifted the iron from the slip. The sight of the smoke rising from the dark brown burn mark in the silk pushed him over the edge, and he came, explosively. He released his cum all over the burned silk...his knees buckling as he did so...
After cleaning up the mess, and hiding the ruined lingerie in the outgoing trash, he had gone outside, and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
He found himself standing in front of her door, gently knocking. After a few seconds the door opened. There she stood, in a pair of silk pants, and a soft top, holding a long silky garment in one hand.
"Yes?", she asked.
"Hey, I was just watch..I, mean thinking of talking to you, and thought I'd come by. I could use some company."
"Sure....come on in. I was just about to do some ironing. You like a drink or something?"
"That'd be nice...."
"Go ahead and pour us both one....I'll just get started on this. You don't mind do you? You can sit in here, and keep me company".
"Sure.. that'd be fine". I poured us each a glass of Pinot Noir from a vacuumed sealed bottle she had open. Walking into her "ironing room", I placed the glass on a table next to the ironing board, and took a seat on a loveseat she had in the corner, facing her as she began the 'ritual'. Turning on the iron, ensuring there was water in the tank, spreading out the silk nightgown she had selected, and placing a light towel over the silk, to protect it. I smiled. And I was getting a hard-on. She had no idea.
"So, what's on your mind?", she said, picking up the iron, and beginning to smooth out the wrinkles of the dress of the nightgown.
"I just wanted to talk....we never really communicate. I feel as though I know you very well, but we don't talk much."
"I wondered why you never came over before", she said. A cloud of steam rose around her soft blouse. "I'm glad you came by". She sat the iron on its heel, close to her. She had the board set about waist high. She seemed to move close to the soleplate, just standing there for a minute. Then she moved back, turned the gown on the board, and resumed ironing, slowly, once again.
"I'm glad as well". He stood, and walked to her side of the board, as she ironed.
She stopped, setting the iron on its heel. She took a long pull from the glass of wine, setting the glass down slowly, she turned to him, turning her head slightly, looking up a little at him. He leaned down, kissing her, her lips parting, relaxing as his tongue gently searched for hers...she turned completely toward him, her full attention to the kiss, reaching around his head with her hands, softly caressing the back of his head as she returned the kiss, deeply, slowly.
"Oh..... oh.....", she stammered, breaking the kiss...."I, ....I,..." - - -
"Don't", he said. "Sit".....he took her around to the loveseat, and sat down with her. "Tell me about the nightgown", he said.
"What? The gown? What about it....?"
"Why do you treat it with such reverence? What significance does it hold for you?"
She sighed...."It's a favorite of mine. I wore it often when my ex fiancé and I would make love. He and I didn't work out....the nightgown is all I have left of our feelings we had for each other. I miss those feelings"....
"You need to move on from that. Go on. . . finish ironing it...I enjoy watching you".
"Oh?, she asked...'you enjoy my ironing, do you?"
"Yes. . . . very much".
She stood up from the loveseat, letting go of his hand...and returned to the ironing board. She picked up the iron, and once again began to smooth out the wrinkles in the soft pink silk....
He again rose, and went to the board.
Emboldened by the kiss. . , he stood in front of her, and began to undo the buttons of the soft blouse she wore.
"Don't stop ironing.. . no matter what I do", he instructed her.
She didn't protest, and kept slowly moving the iron over the skirt of the gown....as he opened her blouse, pulling it loose from the silk pants. The steam rose from the iron, up and around her breasts, which were bare under the silken material of the blouse...She felt the heat of the steam against her skin..... closing her eyes....enjoying the sensation...
"You like the heat against you? Does it excite you...?"
"Yes. . . yes," she sighed. "I don't know why. . .but the ironing is. . . sensual to me"....
"I enjoy it as well. . . ", he said. "But it's different for me"...he had not touched her yet....just let the steam from the iron caress her breasts...her nipples were hard buttons now, and she was perspiring from the heat...
"How is it different for you?", she asked. . "Tell me"....
"I enjoy you ironing the silks. . . but its not quite the same.."
"Show me", she said. .
"Stand back from the board a little", he said. She did so.
He reached to the iron, and turned off the steam. The iron quieted. He reached out and lifted the towel from the gown...standing the iron on its heel. "Are you sure you want me to show you?"
"Yes", she said. Her right hand now moved to her crotch...and she began to slowly move her fingers against her mons. . over the outer lips. .
He reached to the iron, and turned the temperature dial...up. . . just to the cotton setting. He heard it began to click, as it heated.
"Oh, . . wait. . . I didn't think you meant. . . . " she began..
"I thought you wanted me to show you what I enjoyed..."
"Yes", she said, 'but not that. I love that gown. I couldn't bear to see it harmed...." But she never moved. Never stopped touching herself. He waited until the iron had stopped clicking. He reached for it again, and picked it up from its heel.
"Please", she said. "Be careful. I love that gown. It's charmeuse, you know. . so very, very soft. . . and my favorite". . .
"Yes. . I said, "I understand". . . and began to lower the iron to the silk. As he did so, he heard her sharp intake of breath...."Please", she said. . . But never stopped touching herself.
He began to move the iron over her gown.... it was hot, but not so hot as to cause damage. . . as long as he kept it moving over the silk. . which he did.
"God, please be careful", she pleaded. . . He saw conflict in her eyes and her actions. Her eyes begged him to be careful. But she was excited as she watched him with the iron on her nightgown. . His erection was threatening to burst out of his pants. He sat the iron on its heel once again, and opened his pants, freeing himself, dropping his pants and underwear, kicking them off, along with his shoes and socks. . ."OH" she whispered..."You really do enjoy my ironing, don't you?"...
She moved closer to the board, reaching over to grasp him in her hand. Now he picked up the iron once again, thumbing the temperature dial up to the wool setting. . "I want to burn your silks", he whispered. "NO", she said. . . 'you mustn't ....I love that nightgown...I want to wear it for you". . . 'Please, don't burn it. . . "
"You wanted to know", I said...
"No, baby. . . please don't", she pleaded. . she was stroking his hardness now. . . but the look in her eyes was begging him. . .
He thumbed the dial all the way up now. . . to it's highest setting...and held the iron over her gown. . . "Jesus, please. . . it's so expensive...."she begged.... "Don't. . "
"Wrap me in some of it", he said. . . She did so, taking some of the long skirt, and enveloping his erection in it. .
"Don't burn my nightgown, please". . she said...holding his cock in the silk. . .
Her breathing was heavy now. . . her right hand had found her clit, massaging it in the folds of her silken pants. . her wetness soaking through them. . she was working herself into an orgasm. . .
"Jesus, don't. . . please don't ruin my nightgown. . it's so delicate, please...." she begged him. .
Now her eyes betrayed the feelings she was having. . she didn't want him to ruin her gown.. . but something was driving her to complete this. . .
He began to lower the hot iron into the folds of the pink silk. .. as it touched the delicate fabric, smoke rose from beneath the soleplate. . . he let it linger there, just touching the silk in a few places. . not putting it down onto the gown altogether. . "Aww. . no-o-o-. . Please, Noooo.." she whimpered. . and a tear blossomed at each eye. . . "don't. . . not my beautiful gown. . . ". .. She began to shudder as her climax began..rippling through her with hot waves of pleasure...
He lowered the too hot gleaming soleplate onto the nightgown. . . the extreme heat engulfing the precious silk..brown smoke rose from around the iron. . . he began to climax.. . she stroked him in the silk, pulling his come from him into the gown.. . watching with a tear down her cheek as he burned her beloved nightgown. .
When he was spent...she caressed him, until he was soft. . . he had lifted the hot iron from the ruined gown...wisps of smoke rising from the almost black iron-mark in the middle of the skirt of the gown...
"I don't understand, she said."I loved that nightgown, yet I couldn't stop you from burning it. I enjoyed watching you like that..it made you so excited, but. . .. "
"I think you were just letting go,' he said. 'It was just time...and I was lucky enough to be here".
They finished their wine, and talked some more, for quite some time. She was fascinated about this fetish he had, and wanted to explore it in more detail. . . He learned that her ex was not such a nice guy, and although she had loved him at one point, he had been abusive to her. Because he treated her so roughly, she found solace in the years after in having delicate clothing, that required gentle treatment, loving treatment...she could give those garments the love and care she was denied before...
Eventually she stood, and, taking his hand and picking up the gown from the ironing board, she led him to the living room. They walked to the fireplace, which had a good fire going, and warming the room. . She turned to him. They were still partly undressed from the earlier intimacies..
With her right hand, she draped the gown over the fire-screen in front of the fireplace. She reached to his crotch and once again began to caress him. They didn't say anything. The heat from the fire against the silk so close began to scorch the folds hanging on the inside of the screen. The soft pink silk began so smoke. . the material turning a dark pink, then brown as the silk scorched...not quite hot enough to start to flame...but the entire length of the silk draped over the screen was smoking, scorching all the way to the hearth. . . she felt him harden in her hand as they watched..."That gown was my favorite, you know...?", she said.. "Yes...I understand..." he said. He kissed her, pulling her close to him, she returning the kiss. She backed a little from him, and dropped the silk pants she was wearing. She was naked beneath them. They were still wet where she had pleasured herself while at the ironing board...she picked them up from the floor. She handed them to him, pulling him to her...his erection pressing against her warm skin now...
"You want to burn these?...they're stained badly anyway", she said...'Would you like to watch them burn too? The fire is just hot enough to ruin them, scorch them...isn't that what you enjoy?"... She said it softly, not mockingly....genuinely wanting to find what pleased him...
"Yeah", he replied...'yes'.....
"Go ahead then. Burn them. But take me, too, right here..I want you inside me...."
He took the silken pants from her, and lay them over the smoking ruin of the nightgown on the fire-screen. He turned her toward the fire, in front of the screen. She took hold of the mantlepiece with both hands, as he bent her forward. Spreading her legs a bit for him, he moved between them, finding her wetness with his hardness. As he slipped between the warmth of her lips, she groaned with pleasure..shivering as he possessed her. He began to move in her, she meeting his sensual thrusts, driving him deep inside her. His hands on her hips as they moved together, he noted the silk pants were now smoking from the heat of the fire as well...the smoke rising from the material. Most went up the chimney, but some rose around her, almost caressing her heavy breasts. The room smelled of the burning silk, and her perfume which had lingered in the material...The sight of the burning clothing and this beautiful woman giving herself to him drove him crazy. . His thrusts became more urgent..she began to mew with pleasure as her own climax began once again.. "Oh. . mmmm..yes, yes, please...', she cooed, '...watch them. . their burning.. my beautiful silks...burning... ruined..ruined!" She began to mumble incoherently as the climax overtook her, she throwing her head back as the paroxysm of pleasure took her....he felt the walls of her pussy grab him as she came...and he released within her...the gown and silk pants now caught, and a flame began at the fabric closest to the heat. She looked down, as the flame began to grow, directly below her breasts..at least three feet away, but she could now feel the heat increase,..her nightgown and pants were truly burning now..
He saw this and kept thrusting inside her, his climax continued...it seemed like forever, although only for seconds...She came again. . seeing the flame beneath her creeping up the silk material, reaching out, she could feel the heat more intensely now, as the flames began to devour the pink gown and silk pants.....
He pulled her upright, away from the now burning garments, and as he did, he picked up the burning silk from the screen and dropped them onto the flames of the fire. She stood, panting as she descended from her place of pleasure, against his chest which was heaving from his own exertions...he cupped her breasts in his hands...the skin hot from the recent proximity to the burning clothing. ..
"Holy Shit!", she exclaimed. "That was so fucking erotic...I don't know what the hell happened". . .
"I'm not quite sure either", he said, 'but it sure as hell was great".....
A few minutes later, they sat again, in the living room. Dressed now. They were sipping more wine.
"Could I see you again, like this?", he asked her..
"Well, yes. . . I think so.....', she replied, smiling.....' I, I usually do my laundry on Thursdays. . . if you'd like to help me with it"...
The most erotic day of his recent life had been on her laundry day. The day most women hate. How ironic...