When I was a very young girl, I loved to play dress-up. What little girl doesn’t though, right? I loved to dig through my Mom’s clothes and shoes and jewelry. I would always pick out frilly dresses and skirts with ruffles and high-heeled shoes.
I wore tights back then, all the time. Now don’t get me wrong. I loved to get dirty too! I would make mud pies in red clay dirt in Alabama and get covered from head to toe with goo.
I guess I needed a bit of both. The down and dirty as well as the beautiful and elegant. I loved to prance around the house in my beautiful clothes looking all pretty and feeling all grown up.
Then as a young girl, I started going to church. An ultra-conservative Southern church in Tennessee. The kind of place where all the women dress up every time the church doors are open.
Every Sunday morning and evening, as well as Wednesday night. One wouldn’t be caught dead wearing the same outfit two weeks in a row. In fact, waiting as many weeks as possible before wearing an outfit again was the norm.
This meant I was lucky enough to own all sorts of dresses, skirts, blouses, slips and high-heeled shoes. I also was able to own plenty of stockings and pantyhose too. This was the eighties, so everything was extra frilly and fancy. The pantyhose were always shiny.
Now that I think about it, I wore shiny, suntan pantyhose almost all the time in those days. On occasion, I would wear white. Women hardly ever wear white pantyhose, but girls can pull it off sometimes. Especially at church, it is so innocent and virginal.
In high school, I was on the drill team. I got to wear fun outfits and pantyhose or tights all the time. Several times a week we would have practices or performances.
I can remember putting on my pantyhose sometimes before school in the morning and wearing them all day under my
clothes. If I did not put them on first thing in the day, I would do it as soon as I could after school was out. I used the excuse that it was easier to get dressed before the bus pulled out to take us to our engagements than to get dressed after we got there.
That was true, but I think also it was just an excuse to get to wear my pantyhose in public for as long as possible. After we were finished, I would usually leave them on under my clothes for the ride home as well.
Of course when you are in high school, you also have all those dances to go to. Proms, teen boards, banquets.
One can always wear pantyhose to these events. Magical evenings meant for you to dress up and show off.
Fancy clothes, makeup, special jewelry and hair. All decked out in satin and nylon feeling so silky all night long. Mmmmmm, fantastic!
When I got a bit older, however, I noticed the occasions for dressing up seemed to come few and far between. I got into college, and things got crazy and hectic.
There was not always the time for getting ready like when I was younger, certainly no time for dress up. I just got busy and sweatshirts were fast and comfy for studying in. I still wore pantyhose and dressed nice when I went out.
It’s just that it was not a part of my daily routine like it had once been. Then I got even older and I met a man. A man with an insatiable craving for pantyhose. A man with a fetish so strong, I almost found it hard to believe.
We started talking and my desire to integrate pantyhose back into my life grew a bit every day. He would tell me all the things that pantyhose did for him. How they turned him on and how he loved to touch them. How he loved to lick them.
Before long, I wondered how I had ever lived without them during those down years. It was not long before I was wearing them almost every day again.
I wore them under skirts and dresses with high heels of course. I sometimes wear them under my jeans or pants with boots.
These days are always fun. It is my own little secret that I have them on. I leave them on when I come home, even when I change into something like pajamas or shorts or yoga clothes.
Oh yeah, yoga, I love to do yoga while wearing only my pantyhose. It makes me feel so sexy stretching my beautiful pantyhose legs out in front of me, being able to run my hands down my soft legs as I bend at the waist until my hands run over the tops of my pantyhose feet.
I also love to sleep in them. I mean really, one can do almost anything while wearing pantyhose.
Pantyhose are so soothing and inviting. There is a comfort in their warmth. They make your legs look so intriguing, showing of all the curves and muscles.
They accentuate an elegant outfit beautifully. They are soft and silky to the touch. Pantyhose just make the day better, you know?
When I wear them I feel like a goddess and a queen. I feel like the most beautiful woman alive. I love to show off my pantyhose legs.
I don’t guess I ever realized all those years ago that my love affair with pantyhose had already begun. When I was younger, I did not know their true power. It is a power.
Pantyhose possesses powers like no other thing on earth. If you know this power, consider yourself lucky. I know I am lucky to have found it again, to have realized all it is capable of.
Being a woman with a love for pantyhose is an entirely different thing than being a man. Most men have a lust for pantyhose, not a love.
Not my man though. He loves them like I do. He knows that without a woman’s legs in them, they have not reached their truest potential for beauty.
I never really understand a man’s need to wear them. Pantyhose wear you, not the other way around.
When you are worn by a pair of pantyhose, you are just the body they use for displaying themselves. Pantyhose need, want, desire a beautiful pair of sexy, curvy legs to be shown off on.
Men can wear them all day long, every day, for the rest of their lives and still never experience them the way a woman can.
You wouldn’t believe all the wonderful things I do to myself when I wear them. Oooooohhhhh!! I get to run my hands over every inch of my pantyhose flesh, any time I want to. I don’t have to wait for permission.
Maybe that’s why men need to wear them, so they can touch them as much as they want. It’s hard to find a woman willing to let you own her pantyhose legs.
If you do, better hold on to her. I can cross and uncross my legs all day, listening to the swoosh and swish of the nylon as it touches itself.
I can run my hands over my pantyhose knees, and scratch my nails on my nylon legs.
Mmmmm, I love scratching pantyhose. Fingernails on pantyhose are the exact opposite of fingernails on a chalkboard. I can rub my own pantyhose feet and pop my pantyhose toes. I can let my shoe dangle off of the tip of my foot, and then slide it back on again.
Over and over again, I can play with my sexy pantyhose. As much as I want. I worship them. I touch them whenever I can. Hell, this is just what I do with them in the daytime, when people are around.
Can you imagine how I use, abuse, and enjoy them when I am alone.
That’s when the fun really begins. I think I will save that for myself for now. It’s just between me and the pantyhose.
That’s the best part!!
