Origins of a fetish - Part 1 (The stockings years)
story by Anonymous
I first became fascinated with women's legs in nylons at the age of five or younger. My earliest memory is of seeing my primary school teacher walking between the desks, wearing a 50s skirt and petticoats and wearing fully-fashioned seamed
stockings. I remember looking at her legs, the seam running up her calves, and becoming excited by the rasping sound her nylons made when her legs rubbed together
or when she crossed them.
At the time the sensation I had was like butterflies in my stomach. The sight
of Mrs Scott's legs made me excited and short of breath. But I didn't understand
the feeling at all. I do remember, too, imagining pushing my head up her skirt
and biting the tops of her legs. Of sinking my teeth into her inner thigh through
her stocking top, while running my hands up and down her nylons.
The feeling was almost unbearable. And after that I found myself looking at
women's legs all the time, hoping for a glimpse up a skirt, to see those wonderful
stocking tops and suspenders and panties.
I also recall watching, fascinated, whenever my mother would lift up the hem
of her dress to slide on a pair of stockings. Watching her struggle to fix the
suspenders and then use both hands on her legs to smooth out each stocking and
twist them to straighten each seam, made me (to quote Philip Roth, describing
Portnoy watching his own mother pull on her stockings), "punchy with delight".
A critical stage in my fixation for nylons (stockings first, then tights/pantyhose)
was a visit to my Aunt Annie's when I was maybe 11 or 12 years old. I stayed
the weekend in their living room, which contained a bed settee, a dining table
and other pieces of furniture, including a dressing table. Their house was small,
so some furniture that belonged in my aunt and uncle's bedroom, was placed in
different rooms - in this case, my aunt's dressing table. I was sitting at the
dining table doing homework. My aunt came in, wearing only a white corselette
(a full-figure girdle), and went to the dressing table, from which she took
out a pair of nylons. She was behind me. My heart was racing, because I knew
she was going to pull her stockings on. I risked a look behind me, and was rewarded
with the sight of her pulling on a dark tan stocking up her slender right leg.
I saw her sliding on the stocking, fixing it to her suspenders (garters in the
USA), then smooth it out with her hands. But she looked up and saw me. I was
horribly embarrassed at being caught out and felt myself blush. I turned away
quickly.
But, my aunt didn't let me off that easily. She walked up to me and drew out
the dining chair next to me. She was talking about shopping or something matter
of fact - no reference to my peeking. Then she put her bare left foot on the
chair and worked her red-nailed toes into the stocking for her left leg. Then,
very slowly it seemed, pulled this stocking up her leg. I saw everything - her
leg was only inches from my nose. She drew the stocking on so slowly, the dark
tan wrinkling behind her knee, the broad stocking welt wrinkling as she fixed
the suspender buttons in it to hold the stocking up. The broad suspender straps
and the nickel clasp fascinated me, too, sitting tight across her creamy thigh.
My boyish cock was twitching in my trousers! I kept trying to concentrate on
my homework, but I had to keep glancing at her stockinged leg as she smoothed
it around her calf and thigh. I also caught a glimpse of the gusset of her pink
nylon panties under the girdle - the skimpy nylon allowed me to see that dark
V or her hairy bush.
God, I would have done anything to put my face between her legs and to bite
her thighs while stroking my cock. Instead, though, she finished her task, stepped
away, and picked up a blue dress she'd laid across the back of the bed settee.
She dropped the dress over her head and I managed to catch one more sight of
her lovely figure in girdle, and her long, shapely legs in fully-stretched nylons.
Because she had her arms over her head, the suspenders were stretched tight
and the stockings were pulled almost to tearing point. My balls and cock were
aching. I watched her push her feet into open-toed shoes, and fix the point
heel of her stockings to stop them wrinkling too much at the back of the shoe.
It was all too much for me. She asked me to get ready and watched me as I stood
up, trying to cover the bulge in my trousers. I tried to put my school books
in front of me, but she told me to leave them on the table. Blushing, I walked
past her and I saw her glance down and the pulsing bulge in my trousers. I immediately
rushed to the toilet and masturbated fast and furiously, splashing thick ropes
of hot spunk into the toilet bowl, thinking of my aunt Annie's legs in stockings,
and remembering what she'd done. I masturbated convulsively for weeks afterwards
remembering that one incident. I've even tossed myself off as an adult remembering
that moment.
Later, when my parents took up hotel management, I remember finding a girdle
and a pair of stockings in the kitchen staff's cupboard. I snuck them out, went
into the kitchen toilet and, trembling violently with guilt and anxiety and
excitement, pulled on the girdle and stockings and wanked myself off while wearing
them. I'd never felt stockings on legs before, and I imagined my legs were a
woman's as I rubbed my thighs together and grew more and more excited by the
sight and feel and sound of the nylons. I came really hard and hot. I wondered
which of the kitchen girls had worn the garments and got excited thinking that
one of them had been wearing them, and would wear them again after me.
Even as a young boy, I drew pictures of women in stockings, even in the back
of my school jotters! Because my drawing skills never seemed good enough, I
would trace superheroines from comic books and draw stockings on them. Invisible
Girl from the Fantastic Four, Wanda the Scarlet Witch and others, were fodder
for my fantasies. I must have traced and dressed up, dozens of superheroines
and jerked myself off while looking at my drawings.
I also, of course, liked superheroines in tights! One time I was in the toilet,
tossing myself senseless while looking at a picture of Invisible Girl in her
blue tights, when my mother walked in. I hadn't locked the door properly. She
said "oh," in a really quiet voice, and backed out quickly. I was mortified.
But, in later years, I couldn't help wondering what she'd thought or felt seeing
her son pumping his stiff cock while sitting on the toilet!
(pantyhose years story to follow...)
I'm really keen to get feedback, comments, and to have email correspondence:
johnny955@hotmail.com
Story posted by Anonymous
on Tuesday, June 28, 2005 @ 09:54:11 PDT
|
|
