Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 I first fell in love with Diana Kobyoshi the day she wore green stockings
to the office.  It was St.  Patrick's day, and her stockings were a pale
green that matched with her lime colored dress.  I might never have fallen
in love with her if I was not sitting across from her during our overlap
meeting.  I had dropped a pencil and when I bent under the table to
retrieve my pencil, I could see straight up her skirt.  I couldn't see her
panties, but I could see the top lacy part of her stocking.  The fragile
green hose covering her fit thigh was a vision that haunted me for the rest
of the day.  Even when I went home and masturbated, I still kept
fantasizing about green stockings.  Not even Lauren, my regular stripper at
the Bad Company Club could make me forget how lovely a Japanese woman could
be in green lace.



   Therefore, as you can see, I knew it had to be love.  When Sherry wore
that loose blouse that revealed her nipples, I thought I was in love with
her, but I got over her as soon as she started dating Carl in research.  I
once thought I was in love with Carla, because of that wonderful smell she
has in the mornings, but I got over that obsession when I found out her
smell was just Pert shampoo.  I had watched Diana every day a month since
St.  Patrick's day, and I was still masturbating about her.  It had to be
for real this time.



   One of the best tips I had that this was for real was Diana herself. 
She wasn't what we in the Repairs Department would call pretty.  She had
Asian brown eyes and shiny brown hair, but her nose was definitely American
in it's large size and her chest was almost non-existent.  I had never
fallen for a small-breasted woman before, which must mean something.  She
was also quite shy, barely engaging anyone in conversations.  Normally I
like my women to be outgoing; almost dominating but her introvert
personality attracted me.  She had no other men around her ever, unlike
some of the sluts I've fallen in love with in the past.  There was one sexy
quality she had, and that was her habit of wearing stockings almost every
day.  I would have creamed myself in the office if she ever wore those
green ones again.



   That first month in love was pure bliss.  I had fantasized about her
sucking me, and I had fantasized about her riding me while I clutched her
small tits.  For a week, I had this one fantasy that she would just let me
fuck her stocking covered thighs.  For a month, she had dominated my erotic
thoughts, so I decided to take the next step.  A man just can't masturbate
into a sock forever.  That's why I started stealing the spoon she uses at
work.



   Many people eat out during their lunch break, but not Diana.  No, my
pretty woman ate at her desk.  It was almost perverse how she would sit in
the office all alone, eating quietly from her daily yogurt cup.  I started
working through my lunch break just so I could be in the same room while
she ate.  For thirty minutes each day, I would thrill to the sounds of her
slurping her plastic spoon.  I would steal glances of her pink tongue as it
reached out a split second before her small Asian mouth would open.  Once,
I could have sworn her eyes darted to me, and that she knew I was watching
her, but she didn't say anything.  She just kept eating; driving me crazy
as her tongue kept licking cream from lips.



   It is only rational that I had to have her spoons.  She threw the
plastic spoons away each day, carelessly into the trash can.  Into the
trash can!  Faithfully, and with quite a bit of cunning, I would retrieve
that sacred spoon from the garbage.  On some days, it would have a trace of
her lipstick still on it.  Other days, the spoon would be spotlessly clean
from her lips and tongue giving the spoon one last suck job.



   Carefully, I would preserve these spoons until I got home and then in
the safety of my house, I would suck on my daily spoon relic while I
masturbated.  I can't describe the thrill of touching the same plastic that
Diana's own tongue had touched as well.  My orgasms threatened to shatter
my body and once or twice, I would bit through the spoon in my mouth. 
Those spoons that would survive my lovemaking I faithfully kept in an empty
jar.  I hid this jar in my closet, and it became the central altar in my
shrine to Diana.



   Unsurprisingly, around this time my work began to suffer.  I misplaced
my screwdriver and couldn't find the damn thing anywhere.  I wasted thirty
minutes looking for it before I had to give up and borrow one from Jason. I
don't normally loose things but I took it as a good sign.  Obviously, my
devotion for Diana was beginning to play tricks with my memory.  Since I
had spent the better part of the day ingeniously figuring out how to better
preserve her spoon, I knew exactly why I had lost such an important tool.
In a way, I was proud of loosing my screwdriver; it was almost like a
battle scar of my relationship.



   One hot summer day, I was walking into my house when I noticed a white
car go by.  Driving the car was Diana!  My heart tried to leap out of my
chest.  Could she possibly live near by?  I had never even dared to
imagine! If she lived close by, I could run into her at the grocery store.
I could possibly see her walking a dog or something.  Maybe one day, her
car could break down and I could give her a ride home every day.  These new
possibilities fueled my fantasies and my love for her surged to new
heights. Now, I had to find out where she lived.



   Finding out where Diana lived was easy.  I could have just looked her up
in the phone book but that wouldn't have been worthy of the quest, would
it? Instead, I pulled her file from Human Resources.  I risked being fired
but it wasn't much of a risk considering how poorly our company's files are
kept.  Besides, the danger of being fired gave my endeavor an extra element
of excitement.  Not only was I discovering where Diana lived, but also I
was braving the possibility of losing the job that brought me in contact
with her.  By the time I did find out her address, I knew the perils I had
faced made me worthier of her.



   It turns out she lived across town from me.  I guess the time I saw her
must have just been a lucky break.  Or maybe it was some other Asian beauty
I had seen.  Wherever I turn, Fate keeps dropping hints like that and it
convinces me even more that Diana and I were meant for each other.  With
her address finally known, it was time our relationship went to the next
level.  It was time to start seeing her at her home.



   I brought a camera of course.  It's interesting to me how so many
cameras have the features I need.  It makes me wonder how many other lovers
were capturing their loved ones on film.  The camera I had could operate
without a flash, possessed a telescopic lens and had a superb auto focus.
The clever thing didn't even need me to run, which was good considering I
might be too awed struck by Diana to be competent.



   Diana lived in a modest house sheltered by towering trees and over grown
shrubs.  The neighborhood was quiet with a convient park only two blocks
away.  Her front shades were pulled, denying me a chance to observe Diana
in her living room.  All I could see of her was shadows and silhouettes. 
Adapting my plan to the quest, I parked my car at the park and walked to
Diana's house.  I thought perhaps that I would get a better view from her
back yard.



   The back of her house was dark, but that was all right, it gave me time
to set up.  I found a nice safe spot in some shrubs.  I know, it seems like
a cliché but that's how things become clichés, by being true.  The shrubs
were high enough to conceal me if I sat down and with some careful branch
movement, I could see clearly through one of Diana's windows.  I readied my
telescopic lens and prepared to catch a glimpse of my true love.



   Two hours passed by before a light illuminated the window I was
watching. My heart raced as I saw Diana walk by the window, cracking it
slightly.  Behind her, I could see her bed!  I readied my camera, and
snapped a picture of her as she stood in front of the window.  The soft
light of bedside lamp gave my angel a heavenly glow, hugging her small
frame.  Somehow, I managed to keep my hands steady as she began to undress.



   Her back was to me as she whipped off her shirt.  She did it so quickly,
so casually, and yet my throat was dry in an instant at the sight of her
bare back.  She didn't have a bra to remove and when she turned around, I
could see why.  Her breasts were small contours that flowed seamlessly with
the rest of her body.  They would never look great in a bikini, but I
dreamed of one day fondling them nonetheless.  Her nipples were tiny as
well, brown spots on her yellow skin.  My camera zoomed and took little
bites of her nipples, capturing them forever.



   My Goddess unbuttoned her pants, and let them drop to the floor. 
Wearing only a pair of white panties, she stepped out of her fallen pants.
Diana walked briefly out of sight from the window and I held my breath.  Oh
God, her legs were even more perfect bare!  I only saw her smooth toned
thighs for a few seconds, but I was shaken by how long and sensual they
were.  As Diana's absence from the window continued, I began to doubt my
eyes.  Could her legs have really been that perfect?  Did I really see
those perfect objects that had previously been concealed in a rainbow of
stockings?  I clutched my camera harder, knowing that it contained the
proof of my goddesses' beauty.



   Diana entered back from off window and to my delight, shock and supreme
bliss, she was carrying a white dildo in her hand!  She passed by the
window and lay down in her bed.  The bed was lower than the window,
completely out of my sight.  I knew I should stay under the cover of the
shrubs but I also knew that Diana was getting ready to masturbate right
now! I shivered in the cold night, debating the risks versus the wonderful
awards.  It was no decision at all.



   I stood up, and after climbing onto a flowerpot, I was able to peek
straight through into Diana's window.  Diana was lying on her bed, her
panties down around one ankle and her perfect thighs spread wide.  She was
making the white dildo disappear, inch by inch ever so slowly into her
pussy.  The noise of my camera zooming seemed to be deafening as I tried to
look closer at her private sex.  There were thick curls of hair concealing
most of her pussy but it couldn't conceal how easily it accepted the girth
of her sex toy.  Diana's body was trembling from the slow penetration but I
was trembling from pure desire.



   The dildo finally penetrated Diana fully and she paused.  After a few
slow, sensual seconds, Diana began to fuck herself with her dildo.  She did
this with one hand while her other hand went to her small breasts.  I was
torn, but I quickly decided to shift the camera to watch her breast
fondling.  Diana's tit was small, but she cupped her breast with a
surprising savagery.  The way her back arched when she pulled her nipple
was uncharacteristic of the quiet girl, which just made it all the sexier.
I snapped a few photos of the incredible moment, enraptured by the way her
mouth hung open during her rough breast play.  Even from my distance, I
could see the red marks forming on her chest from her self-mauling.



   Diana's hips began to undulate like an ocean enduring a storm.  My
camera turned back to her sex and caught the blurry motion of her dildo. 
Her hand was so fast and the toy moved so easily, I couldn't begin to
imagine how lubricated she must be.  Those perfect knees rose, obscuring my
sight of her sex.  I contented myself with pictures of her legs, bent up
and shifting constantly as her passion increased.  Even her toes were sexy,
clutching the top bedsheet as she clenched.



   I pulled my focus to her face.  I wanted to capture the exact moment she
had her climax.  Her bangs were falling in front of her shut eyes.  Her
nostrils were flaring and for the first time, I actually found a nose
erotic.  I watched her mouth open and I could almost hear her moans from
outside.  Once, she bit down hard on her bottom lip, and I suddenly knew
the source of her chapped lips at work.  Diana's Asian features were
beautiful by lamplight and divine when in ecstasy.



   My own cock was so hard in my pants but I was helpless.  To give myself
release would have endangered my steady camera work.  I suffered as Diana
tilted her head back and screamed soundlessly.  My cock was throbbing
potently in my underwear but I could do nothing but watch.



   Diana's small chest rose and fell faster and I knew she was close.  I
bit my lip as Diana bit harder on hers.  She abandoned her breast and used
both hands to give herself deep, penetrating thrusts.  Curiously, I saw
Diana turn her head towards something beside the window and her eyes were
aflame with lust.  I snapped a few pictures of those round eyes, a little
taken back by the intensity of her desire.  There was something there that
attracted her and I would have done anything to know what it was.  I was so
distracted; I almost didn't catch her orgasm.  Diana's back arched again
and she used a hand to prop herself up as she gave herself the final
thrusts.  Half sitting up, Diana's face contorted with sweet pleasure and
her mouth broke into a smile.  I snapped a picture of her smile, capturing
her blissful cherub face as her orgasm exploded.



   Later, when I got home, I couldn't find either my two special cotton
socks.  I had bought these socks especially for their softness and there
was nothing better to masturbate with.  It didn't matter, I bet I could
have jerked off with gravel after what I had seen.  The photos were locked
in my camera, waiting to be developed but my memory of the beautiful Diana
was enough for me to spurt twice within twenty minutes using just my hand.
That's love.



   I called in sick the next day.  I just couldn't go to work after such a
wonderful night.  I wanted to savor my relationship, one that no one at
work could possibly understand.  I also wanted to develop the film and add
the pictures to my growing altar to Diana.  After an unfortunate interview
with the police a few years ago, I had learned to develop my own film.  It
was one of the more enjoyable mornings I had spent.

   Within a few hours, I had almost a hundred pictures to mount.  My
bedroom closet was a walk-in with double doors, so I decided to post them
inside the doors.  It was an impressive display.  Opening the doors
revealed all of the pictures of that night, leaping out with my love. 
Diana stripping, Diana masturbating, Diana clutching her breasts and Diana
climaxing all looked back at me.  I set the jar of spoons on a box, in the
dead center of the closet.



   As I looked at my shrine, I realized what was missing.  What I needed
were her green stockings.  They were the cause of our romance, and it would
be insane not to include them in my shrine.  I considered buying a pair
just like she wore, but that would be false.  Nothing else would do except
the actual stockings.  They were the true artifacts; they had actually
touched my Diana.



   Since I had called in sick, I realized I had the perfect opportunity. 
It would be another three hours before she got home which was plenty of
time.  My pulse raced and my cock stirred to life.  Diana's stockings had
to be mine!  I would be a coward and unworthy of love if I did not try.



   Breaking into a house is quite simple.  Okay, it's simple if you're
guided by love.  Actually picking a lock is hard if you've only done it
three of four times a year but when you're in love, it doesn't matter how
long you take.  Your love just pushes you to keep trying until you get it.
Working on the back door, I finally got it free.



   That was a certain electricity in my steps as I entered Diana's home. 
This was the most intimate place I could be.  Here was the chair where she
watched television.  There, in the kitchen were perhaps dozens of
silverware that touched her mouth every day.  Diana's presence was
everywhere, an erotic feeling that clung to the walls and furniture.  I
wanted to touch everything, just to make that connection with Diana.



   I skipped the bathroom.  Touching anything in there would just be sick.
I'm not some sort of pervert.



   Diana's bedroom was just as I had seen it last night.  In a basket by
the door was the shirt she had removed for my pleasure.  The bed wasn't
made, and I spent several long minutes with my face in her pillow.  Her
smell was stronger there, and to my delight, I found several strands of her
hair.  Those brown, delicate strands went into a bag in my pocket.



   In her closet I found the stockings.  God, I almost froze with reverence
when I saw them.  They were hanging from a hanger, tempting me with the
hint of how they looked on Diana's legs.  Green, lacy and just as sexy as I
remembered them, I had to resist the urge to masturbate in them right
there. I took them down from the hanger and carefully folded them into my
coat pocket.  I was sweating yet giddy.  I had the ultimate piece of my
love.



   As I turned to leave, I saw a small cabinet beside her window.  I
remembered how she had looked there in the throes of passion and I debated
finding out why.  What if it contained a poster of some shithead like Brad
Pitt?  What if it was a collection of photos dedicated to a past boyfriend?
I had had my heart broken so many times in past when I discovered a love of
mine was seeing someone else; I couldn't stand to discover that my shy,
private Diana longed for another.



   I tried to leave but I only made it as far as the door.  What if she was
in love with someone?  It would just trivialize everything I had done.  It
would make a mockery of my bravery today.  The stockings in my coat dragged
at me, questioning me with their authenticity.  How could I ever enjoy the
sight of those green stockings again unless I knew for sure?



   The cabinet was locked, which confirmed my worst fears.  Pushing aside
subtlety, I used a kitchen knife to lever the doors open.  The sounds of
the panel ripping mirrored the betrayed anger I was feeling in my chest.  I
had to know whom Diana loved more than me.



   My breath caught as the doors swung open.  Pictures decorated the inside
of the doors, and all of the pictures were of me!  Pictures of me walking
inside my house, pictures of me watching television and pictures of me
masturbating in silent prayer were spread out in vivid detail on the doors.
I was stunned, and I looked to every picture, looking for some clue that
would tell on what particular day each picture was taken.  I looked in
horror as her camera caught my face shuddering in pleasure.



   That wasn't all.  In the center of the shrine was my lost screwdriver.
It was pointing up, positioned carefully on what looked like a homemade
base.  Lipstick covered my screwdriver as well as one or two tiny hairs
that could only have come from Diana's most sacred place.  Surrounding the
erect screwdriver, lying around it like a wreath, were my two missing
socks. New stains covered the tips of my socks, and my jaw dropped as I
understood how Diana could have used my socks as mittens.



   I backed away from the shrine, unable to tear my eyes from the raw
dedication.  Sitting on the bed, I just stared in wide-eyed amazement. 
Questions flooded my mind and I knew only one person could have the answer.




   Using Diana's bedroom telephone, I called work.



   "Diana called in sick today, just like you," a concerned coworker told
me.  "You think you guys caught something?" he joked.



   Oh, we both caught something I mused.



   I called my house, and left a message on my answering machine.  I wasn't
too surprised when Diana picked up.