Nails
- Thread starter Kitte
- Start date
peachykeen
bootie shaker
- Joined
- Jul 11, 2002
- Posts
- 9,194
I used to be a nail biter, for like 20 years. The only way I was able to stop was by paying an inordinate amount of attention to them - I stuck emery boards in every pocket of every garment and when I wanted to bite, I would file instead, etc.
Now, I would like for them to be longer than they are, and polished all the time, but for work I need to keep them no longert than medium-ish and no polish.
Which I hate. I am very girly about my nails; when I know I am going on holiday for a bit and won't have to be at work I let them gorw in a bit more leading up to my holiday and then go get a good manicure. Mr K likes'em bright red, and I have to agree, although I do like a nice hot pink from time to time.
Now, I would like for them to be longer than they are, and polished all the time, but for work I need to keep them no longert than medium-ish and no polish.
Which I hate. I am very girly about my nails; when I know I am going on holiday for a bit and won't have to be at work I let them gorw in a bit more leading up to my holiday and then go get a good manicure. Mr K likes'em bright red, and I have to agree, although I do like a nice hot pink from time to time.I gave some serious thought today about what caused me to have this thing about women with long fingernails. Well, I was stuck in traffic and had a few minutes, so I did some quick self-analysis. And I think I figured it out.
There were two big inspirations for my fingernail fetish. One was my 8th-grade art teacher, Ms. Gordon. She was an extremely attractive woman, always dressed to the nines, always perfectly made up, and she had long, long fingernails. Every guy in school had a desperate hard-on for her, and I was no exception. She was one of the most popular teachers in school because, well, she was hot, and because she let us listen to the hard rock station during class and was pretty much the coolest teacher around.
She had a habit of tapping her nails on her desk, and hearing that "tap-tap-TAP, tap-tap-TAP, tap-tap-TAP" drove me nuts.
The incident that probably twisted me for life happened one rainy day when she had me and four other boys carry a bunch of boxes from the main classroom to a storage room down the hall. We started stacking the boxes and this knucklehead put a box filled with construction paper on top of an empty box. She said, "Put the heaviest one on the bottom and the lightest on the top." We did as she asked, and as we were leaving she said, "Now, why did I have you stack them that way?"
Me being smart and all, I said, "That way the heavy one won't crush the lighter ones, and it won't tip over." Duh.
And she reached out and said, "That's exactly right," and as she said each word she tapped the nail of her index finger on the center of my chest. I think I jacked off about 500 times thinking of that event. For her, a meaningless incident. For me, a major life event I'll remember to my grave.
The other woman who made me a sucker for women with nails was, well, Catwoman. More to the point, Julie Newmar. I've pretty much worshipped Ms. Newmar since I first saw her on Batman as a kid, and she definitely played a big role in the development of this kink of mine. Funny thing is, it wasn't that Catwoman had fingernails, she had actual CLAWS, her outfit had this long, curved claws, and she loved to caress Batman's chest with them whever she had him strapped to some kind of slow-motion killing device. It looked so delicious having those talons caressing my chest that a horrible death seemed a small price to pay.
God, now I'm REALLY hankering for that girl who gave me those mind-bending handjobs. True, she fucked two guys I worked with while we were dating, and she lied about passing an HIV test, and she stole my car (twice), but, man, could she work me over with her hands and fingers. Ungh.
There were two big inspirations for my fingernail fetish. One was my 8th-grade art teacher, Ms. Gordon. She was an extremely attractive woman, always dressed to the nines, always perfectly made up, and she had long, long fingernails. Every guy in school had a desperate hard-on for her, and I was no exception. She was one of the most popular teachers in school because, well, she was hot, and because she let us listen to the hard rock station during class and was pretty much the coolest teacher around.
She had a habit of tapping her nails on her desk, and hearing that "tap-tap-TAP, tap-tap-TAP, tap-tap-TAP" drove me nuts.
The incident that probably twisted me for life happened one rainy day when she had me and four other boys carry a bunch of boxes from the main classroom to a storage room down the hall. We started stacking the boxes and this knucklehead put a box filled with construction paper on top of an empty box. She said, "Put the heaviest one on the bottom and the lightest on the top." We did as she asked, and as we were leaving she said, "Now, why did I have you stack them that way?"
Me being smart and all, I said, "That way the heavy one won't crush the lighter ones, and it won't tip over." Duh.
And she reached out and said, "That's exactly right," and as she said each word she tapped the nail of her index finger on the center of my chest. I think I jacked off about 500 times thinking of that event. For her, a meaningless incident. For me, a major life event I'll remember to my grave.
The other woman who made me a sucker for women with nails was, well, Catwoman. More to the point, Julie Newmar. I've pretty much worshipped Ms. Newmar since I first saw her on Batman as a kid, and she definitely played a big role in the development of this kink of mine. Funny thing is, it wasn't that Catwoman had fingernails, she had actual CLAWS, her outfit had this long, curved claws, and she loved to caress Batman's chest with them whever she had him strapped to some kind of slow-motion killing device. It looked so delicious having those talons caressing my chest that a horrible death seemed a small price to pay.
God, now I'm REALLY hankering for that girl who gave me those mind-bending handjobs. True, she fucked two guys I worked with while we were dating, and she lied about passing an HIV test, and she stole my car (twice), but, man, could she work me over with her hands and fingers. Ungh.
shescurious
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 11, 2001
- Posts
- 755
Geez christo...I think I have a fingernail fetish now....
Ladyhawke
Smitten Kitten
- Joined
- Dec 11, 2001
- Posts
- 1,049
I finally (only took 27 years) managed to give up chewing on mine almost a year ago now. It still seems strange to me that I have them, but I enjoy them. They're still fairly short but long enough for awesome back scratching and for use in a few other ways I pretty much stick to just clear polish but have a couple of nice light colors I wear when I go out.
I pretty much stick to just clear polish but have a couple of nice light colors I wear when I go out.
DevilBoy79
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2002
- Posts
- 3,044
Kitte said:
long or short, painted, fake nails all are good to go here
Aphrodisiac
doing laundry
- Joined
- Sep 24, 2001
- Posts
- 8,618
I keep my nails short to medium length , but mostly short.
I don't paint my fingernails but come summer I do paint my toes...
I don't paint my fingernails but come summer I do paint my toes...
So, you want the rest of the story, hmm?
I was a few years out of college and working for a bank, and my department did business with this insurance company. Nina was the rep who visited us every Friday to go over the week's work. Lots of the guys I worked with had the hots for her big time.
First of all, our department was 95% male, so any strange female was bound to get lots of attention. Second, she was very sexy. Not drop-dead gorgeous, but she was rather short yet still very, very curvy, big breasts and wide hips, and she always dressed very well and wore lots of makeup and perfume. And she knew we all lusted for her. As I later found out to my cost, she enjoyed men paying attention to her, and she knew how to manipulate we three-legged creatures.
She wasn't really my type, I don't usually go for high-maintenance girls who don't own a pair of blue jeans, but she had an attribute that really, really seized hold of my attention. She had inch-long, perfectly manicured nails. If you'll forgive me, her fingernials scratched that particular itch of mine. I'd be sitting in a meeting with her and try to tear my eyes away from her incredible hands, and it was tough.
I never even thought about asking her out, but one night I went to this big dance club with a bunch of my friends and I ended up bumping into her at the bar. I don't dance unless I'm in the late stages of alcohol poisoning, but she grabbed my hand and dragged me out on the floor and we danced most of the night. Once she put her hands on mine, well, I would have stripped naked and done the Monkey if she'd asked.
It was so loud we could barely hear each other, but she made it known that she'd been waiting for me to ask her out every since we met. I got pretty toasted, and we ended up making out in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by about 500 people, and her dark lipstick rubbed off on my lips. To this day, like six years later, my buddies give me grief about this, I mean they CRUCIFY me.
So we started dating. And, at first, everything was fine. We'd go to dinner, see a movie, the usual. But even though I like to party, Nina wanted to go out every night, go out dancing every night, and that just isn't my scene. She and her friends would be out until 2AM like five nights a week, and that should have been a warning sign.
But no way was I going to give up a chance to live out my fantasy. Nina figured out that I liked her nails when I paid her simple compliments about them, but she didn't find out how MUCH I loved them until the first time we had sex. We went to dinner, she asked me back to her apartment, and when we got there she left me in the lving room while she went to her bedroom. She came back in this lacy black robe, see through, and I figured out that it was about to happen. She unbuttoned my shirt, her fingers popping each button in turn, and then she undid my belt, and when she went for my zipper, her fingernails daintily pulling the little metal tab...I mean, that moment is burned into my brain forever.
When I was naked she started touching and stroking my penis with her fingers, and I thought I might have a stroke. She said something along the lines of, "You like that?" and I said something along the lines of "HUHH!GRUHNNNGHHHAA!!"
I was so excited by her touching my erection with her hands that I almost forgot that I was seeing her naked for the first time, and she was actually pretty self-conscious about her appearance because she was a little chubby. But she was so sexy, with those big breasts and those inviting thighs and, oh my God, those fingernails...
Going down on her was almost as good for me as recieving oral sex because she would run her fingers through my hair as I tongued her, and I freaking loved that. When we actually had intercourse, her favorite position was on top, so she would be sitting on me, her big titties bouncing as she rode me, and her hands on my chest, her nails curling around my chest hair. I've never had a problem with premature ejaculation, but there were a few times where I had to apologize for blowing my load way too soon, because I just went into sensory overload.
I told her about the extent of my fingernail fetish about a month after we started dating, we were at dinner and I guess I had a bit too much wine and told her how I was enslaved by her fingernails. In retrospect, not a good move. It might have been better to hand her a gun and point it at my head. Because she took her nails and pointed them at my groin.
That night we went home, and she told me to strip. She came back with a bottle of hand lotion. She made me beg for her to give me a handjob, I mean, BEG, and I was on my hands and knees telling her I would do anything she wanted. When she got tired of me pleading, she had me lie down on the bed, splattered lotion all over my erection, and wrapped her long-nailed fingers around my shaft.
I cried, I writhed, I spoke in tongues as she jacked me off. She wrapped both hands around my cock and did me slowly, up, down, up, down. Not in any hurry. She seemed interested, in a strangely detached way, at how much pleasure her stroking fingers gave me.
My cock was trapped in the warm cage of her fingers and nails. I can still remember how quiet it was in her bedroom, other than my moans and the squishy sound of the lotion squeezed through her fingers. I stared at her fingers, and then at her, because she was staring at me. Looking back I think she was partly turned on, party interested at how easily she could control me, and partly disgusted at how pathetic I was as I enjoyed the touch of her nails on me.
The first time I blew like a volcano. The second time she kept me sweating for awhile. The third time she tortured me. Again, I should have gotten worried when I saw how much she enjoyed making me squirm and suffer, even if my suffering was exquisite.
She gave me a present a few days later, and I opened it and it was a giant bottle of lube. She oiled me up and just let her nails glide all over my penis, over the head, my balls, everywhere. The girl twisted me into knots with her fingers, I was so totally caught up in the pleasure she gave me that I started ignoring some things.
Like the fact that she thought all my friends were losers, and that my friends all thought she was a stuck-up slut. Like the rumors around work that she was dating one of our managers. Now, we'd kept our relationship a secret, no one knew, so I thought this was just idle office gossip. Never gave it a second thought. Then I heard two people say that they'd seen Nina at a local bar with said manager. I asked her about it, she denied it.
After awhile we stopped having sex. I would get the occasional handjob, which kept me fairly ecstatic, but I would call her and she wouldn't call back for a few days. I would see her at work and she would totally ignore me. I'd call her at midnight, at 2AM, at 6AM, and she wouldn't be home. Later, I learned that when Nina went out dancing she wasn't at all adverse to going home with whichever guy she fancied that night, which is a bad quality in a girlfriend.
She couldn't deny the rumors that she was seeing one of the guys in my office when she started seeing ANOTHER manager. There were hard feelings between those two guys, and my manager, who had to deal with Nina on a regular basis, was pretty pissed off too. I kept my mouth shut that I'd been seeing her for about three months. I wasn't close to anyone I worked with, I'm pretty quiet anyway, and I hoped my secret would stay just that.
No such luck. The shit hit the fan all at once. Nina denied dating the other two guys, I said I didn't believe her, she said fine, we wouldn't see each other ever again. She got in trouble with her boss for dating clients, and that's when it came out that I had been part of her roster. I got some props at work for that, since I actually DATED her, and kept it secret, while the other two guys made total asses of themselves in public.
One day I walked to the lot where I park my car every day and it wasn't there. Now, my car was a piece of garbage, not even worth stealing for parts, so I was confused. I found it like five rows over. I get in, and I smell Nina's perfume. I call her, say "What the fuck?" and she gives me this story that it was raining and she didn't have her umbrella and she got in my car and drove it to where she was parked. It made no sense and I demanded my key back, which she'd helped herself to at some point of our time together.
She says sure, and I go to visit her to get the key and she isn't home. I try her for three or four days, nothing. Then on a Friday I go to get my car and it's gone again. I call her and before I can threaten to call the police she tells me where my car is parked, in a pretty bad section of town. Had to wait an hour for one of my friends to give me a ride to my car, and the whole way there had to listen to his harangue about how he KNEW she was fucked in the head.
Never saw her or spoke to her again after that. Not that I was through with the aftermath. One of the managers she dallied with told me I'd better get an HIV test, because she fucked around so much. Great. She'd told me she was true blue, wasn't fooling around, and that she'd had a blood test shortly before we started dating. Nothing like going to the doctor for an HIV test, waiting to hear if you're going to die or not. I really wasn't that scared, but still...
So, after all the bullshit, was it worth it? Oh my God, yes. That first time, when she spent all night jacking me off, that made it all worthwhile. And that wasn't the only time, of course. Tis better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all, right? Well, tis better to have your fantasies come true and then get fucked over then never have it happen at all.
I checked the phone book. She's in there. There's the phone on the table. Wonder if she's home on a Friday night. Nah...
I was a few years out of college and working for a bank, and my department did business with this insurance company. Nina was the rep who visited us every Friday to go over the week's work. Lots of the guys I worked with had the hots for her big time.
First of all, our department was 95% male, so any strange female was bound to get lots of attention. Second, she was very sexy. Not drop-dead gorgeous, but she was rather short yet still very, very curvy, big breasts and wide hips, and she always dressed very well and wore lots of makeup and perfume. And she knew we all lusted for her. As I later found out to my cost, she enjoyed men paying attention to her, and she knew how to manipulate we three-legged creatures.
She wasn't really my type, I don't usually go for high-maintenance girls who don't own a pair of blue jeans, but she had an attribute that really, really seized hold of my attention. She had inch-long, perfectly manicured nails. If you'll forgive me, her fingernials scratched that particular itch of mine. I'd be sitting in a meeting with her and try to tear my eyes away from her incredible hands, and it was tough.
I never even thought about asking her out, but one night I went to this big dance club with a bunch of my friends and I ended up bumping into her at the bar. I don't dance unless I'm in the late stages of alcohol poisoning, but she grabbed my hand and dragged me out on the floor and we danced most of the night. Once she put her hands on mine, well, I would have stripped naked and done the Monkey if she'd asked.
It was so loud we could barely hear each other, but she made it known that she'd been waiting for me to ask her out every since we met. I got pretty toasted, and we ended up making out in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by about 500 people, and her dark lipstick rubbed off on my lips. To this day, like six years later, my buddies give me grief about this, I mean they CRUCIFY me.
So we started dating. And, at first, everything was fine. We'd go to dinner, see a movie, the usual. But even though I like to party, Nina wanted to go out every night, go out dancing every night, and that just isn't my scene. She and her friends would be out until 2AM like five nights a week, and that should have been a warning sign.
But no way was I going to give up a chance to live out my fantasy. Nina figured out that I liked her nails when I paid her simple compliments about them, but she didn't find out how MUCH I loved them until the first time we had sex. We went to dinner, she asked me back to her apartment, and when we got there she left me in the lving room while she went to her bedroom. She came back in this lacy black robe, see through, and I figured out that it was about to happen. She unbuttoned my shirt, her fingers popping each button in turn, and then she undid my belt, and when she went for my zipper, her fingernails daintily pulling the little metal tab...I mean, that moment is burned into my brain forever.
When I was naked she started touching and stroking my penis with her fingers, and I thought I might have a stroke. She said something along the lines of, "You like that?" and I said something along the lines of "HUHH!GRUHNNNGHHHAA!!"
I was so excited by her touching my erection with her hands that I almost forgot that I was seeing her naked for the first time, and she was actually pretty self-conscious about her appearance because she was a little chubby. But she was so sexy, with those big breasts and those inviting thighs and, oh my God, those fingernails...
Going down on her was almost as good for me as recieving oral sex because she would run her fingers through my hair as I tongued her, and I freaking loved that. When we actually had intercourse, her favorite position was on top, so she would be sitting on me, her big titties bouncing as she rode me, and her hands on my chest, her nails curling around my chest hair. I've never had a problem with premature ejaculation, but there were a few times where I had to apologize for blowing my load way too soon, because I just went into sensory overload.
I told her about the extent of my fingernail fetish about a month after we started dating, we were at dinner and I guess I had a bit too much wine and told her how I was enslaved by her fingernails. In retrospect, not a good move. It might have been better to hand her a gun and point it at my head. Because she took her nails and pointed them at my groin.
That night we went home, and she told me to strip. She came back with a bottle of hand lotion. She made me beg for her to give me a handjob, I mean, BEG, and I was on my hands and knees telling her I would do anything she wanted. When she got tired of me pleading, she had me lie down on the bed, splattered lotion all over my erection, and wrapped her long-nailed fingers around my shaft.
I cried, I writhed, I spoke in tongues as she jacked me off. She wrapped both hands around my cock and did me slowly, up, down, up, down. Not in any hurry. She seemed interested, in a strangely detached way, at how much pleasure her stroking fingers gave me.
My cock was trapped in the warm cage of her fingers and nails. I can still remember how quiet it was in her bedroom, other than my moans and the squishy sound of the lotion squeezed through her fingers. I stared at her fingers, and then at her, because she was staring at me. Looking back I think she was partly turned on, party interested at how easily she could control me, and partly disgusted at how pathetic I was as I enjoyed the touch of her nails on me.
The first time I blew like a volcano. The second time she kept me sweating for awhile. The third time she tortured me. Again, I should have gotten worried when I saw how much she enjoyed making me squirm and suffer, even if my suffering was exquisite.
She gave me a present a few days later, and I opened it and it was a giant bottle of lube. She oiled me up and just let her nails glide all over my penis, over the head, my balls, everywhere. The girl twisted me into knots with her fingers, I was so totally caught up in the pleasure she gave me that I started ignoring some things.
Like the fact that she thought all my friends were losers, and that my friends all thought she was a stuck-up slut. Like the rumors around work that she was dating one of our managers. Now, we'd kept our relationship a secret, no one knew, so I thought this was just idle office gossip. Never gave it a second thought. Then I heard two people say that they'd seen Nina at a local bar with said manager. I asked her about it, she denied it.
After awhile we stopped having sex. I would get the occasional handjob, which kept me fairly ecstatic, but I would call her and she wouldn't call back for a few days. I would see her at work and she would totally ignore me. I'd call her at midnight, at 2AM, at 6AM, and she wouldn't be home. Later, I learned that when Nina went out dancing she wasn't at all adverse to going home with whichever guy she fancied that night, which is a bad quality in a girlfriend.
She couldn't deny the rumors that she was seeing one of the guys in my office when she started seeing ANOTHER manager. There were hard feelings between those two guys, and my manager, who had to deal with Nina on a regular basis, was pretty pissed off too. I kept my mouth shut that I'd been seeing her for about three months. I wasn't close to anyone I worked with, I'm pretty quiet anyway, and I hoped my secret would stay just that.
No such luck. The shit hit the fan all at once. Nina denied dating the other two guys, I said I didn't believe her, she said fine, we wouldn't see each other ever again. She got in trouble with her boss for dating clients, and that's when it came out that I had been part of her roster. I got some props at work for that, since I actually DATED her, and kept it secret, while the other two guys made total asses of themselves in public.
One day I walked to the lot where I park my car every day and it wasn't there. Now, my car was a piece of garbage, not even worth stealing for parts, so I was confused. I found it like five rows over. I get in, and I smell Nina's perfume. I call her, say "What the fuck?" and she gives me this story that it was raining and she didn't have her umbrella and she got in my car and drove it to where she was parked. It made no sense and I demanded my key back, which she'd helped herself to at some point of our time together.
She says sure, and I go to visit her to get the key and she isn't home. I try her for three or four days, nothing. Then on a Friday I go to get my car and it's gone again. I call her and before I can threaten to call the police she tells me where my car is parked, in a pretty bad section of town. Had to wait an hour for one of my friends to give me a ride to my car, and the whole way there had to listen to his harangue about how he KNEW she was fucked in the head.
Never saw her or spoke to her again after that. Not that I was through with the aftermath. One of the managers she dallied with told me I'd better get an HIV test, because she fucked around so much. Great. She'd told me she was true blue, wasn't fooling around, and that she'd had a blood test shortly before we started dating. Nothing like going to the doctor for an HIV test, waiting to hear if you're going to die or not. I really wasn't that scared, but still...
So, after all the bullshit, was it worth it? Oh my God, yes. That first time, when she spent all night jacking me off, that made it all worthwhile. And that wasn't the only time, of course. Tis better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all, right? Well, tis better to have your fantasies come true and then get fucked over then never have it happen at all.
I checked the phone book. She's in there. There's the phone on the table. Wonder if she's home on a Friday night. Nah...
