How my pantyhose fetish started
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HOW MY PANTYHOSE FETISH BEGAN Pt 2 free porn video
How my pantyhose fetish began… Pt 2
Less than a week after I was left with no choice but to throw out the trashed cinnamon nylon stockings did I see nylons d****d on my parent’s bed. This time they were off-black but at that time I would have called them black as I didn’t know any better then. My parents were sitting on the patio so I knew I had a little bit of time to look over the stockings. I went into their room and looked at the stockings d****d over the bed. I could see only half their length as Mom’s dress and slip lay over them. I didn’t see a girdle and was hoping it wasn’t hidden under her clothes. I didn’t want to disturb her clothes so I decided I would simply pull the stockings out from under the clothes.
I took hold of the upper portion of the stockings and began to slowly pull them out. Slowly I pulled on the stockings as they inched out from under her dress. Finally, they were out and I was left puzzled. “What’s this?” I thought. The stockings were attached and they had their own brief, i.e., panty. I’d seen pantyhose commercials and immediately knew what I had in front of me. “Oh pantyhose” I thought. I wondered why Mom had them. I figured she wanted to try something new. In any case, I wanted to try them too. They weren’t as sheer as her stockings but they were very soft. I stuffed them down my briefs and retreated to the bathroom.
Once I locked the door, I jumped out of my pants and yanked my socks off. I sat on the toilet and began gathering the length of the first stocking. I slipped it over my left foot and began inching the fabric up and then gathered the other stocking and slipped it over my right foot. I just knew how to put them on. I inched the fabric up my legs, alternating from leg to leg and then pulled the panty up into place. The pantyhose were too large for me and as a result the fabric wasn’t fully extended but I didn’t care because I loved the fact that they would stay up due to the panty. The fabric was also extremely soft. If I pulled the stockings up tight and held them at my upper thighs until the fabric was extended from the toes up they were quite sheer. The hose had sheer toes and a dark panty top.
Then and there I fell in love with pantyhose. I wanted them so bad. I kept thinking “would she know they are missing?” Suddenly I became aware of an incredible tingling sensation in my groin. I looked down and saw that I had a boner. The first time I can recall having one. I pulled the waistband of my briefs back and peeked inside. “Did pantyhose do this?” I thought. In any case, I liked it just as I liked how my heart raced when I ran to the bathroom to put the pantyhose on. After a little play of running my hands over my legs, rubbing my feet together and wiggling my toes I begrudgingly removed them and returned them.
I quickly checked Mom’s dresser drawers to see if she had more pantyhose. I noticed her stockings drawer appeared to have about the same number of stockings as when I last looked. However, another drawer had several unopened packets of pantyhose. I went to my room to contemplate the situation. I deduced she must be phasing out stockings in favor of pantyhose.
Autumn was just around the corner and my parent’s were on a kick to get rid of things. Two large trash bags of clothes were put together along with some old towels, coats, sheets and shoes for charity. My parents had yet to go through their closets until one Saturday afternoon they were in their room going through their closets. Dad began putting his clothing in a large trash bag. I was in my room and could see and hear what was happening. I heard several of my mother’s dresser drawers open and close which had me extremely curious about what if anything she was removing from them.
I heard Dad ask “does this dress go?” to which my Mom replied “yes.” There was more rummaging in the closets and I saw a pair of shoes go in the bag and then what appeared to be a girdle. Then my father asked “are you getting rid of these nylons?” Mom said “yes” to which Dad said “all of them?” My mind and heart immediately began racing. Incredulously my father asked “You got runs in all of these nylons?” Mom said “no, none of them have runs; I’m converting over to pantyhose. I’m giving up girdles and nylons.” Dad said “well I’d think you would want to use them up?” Mom replied back “I’m done with girdles, pantyhose are much more comfortable. If you want to wear them go ahead.” Mom chuckled and Dad said “well we know that’s not going to happen.” As they were talking Dad was placing the stockings in the trash bag. When he finished he said “I counted 21 pair” to which Mom said “sounds about right.” Dad said “I just think you should use them up” to which Mom said “No sense in keeping them if I’m not going to wear them.”
The next thing Dad said totally blew my mind. “Well if I give them to Michael you know he would play in them.” Mom immediately shot back “Oh no! No! I don’t want to encourage that. We already put a stop to it and I don’t want it encouraged.” Then Dad said “he’ll play with them, wear them for a while and he will quickly ruin them. He’ll get bored with them after he has worn them and had a chance to really play with them. I think he’s just curious about them. Sometimes saying no only makes someone want what they can’t have that much more.” “No! I mean it!” replied my mother.
I was sitting in my room pretending to play with Matchbox cars thinking about how Dad has just tried to give me all those glorious new, sheer nylon stockings. Now I was bound and determined to get my hands on them. I knew if caught by Dad I would be embarrassed but he wouldn’t make a big deal about it. Mom on the other hand would flip out so I needed to make sure she did not catch me trying to get them.
My father tied the trash bag draw strings and carried it down to the garage. The three bags would be put into the trunk of the car on Sunday evening and my father would drop them off late Monday afternoon on his way home from work. I had only Saturday evening and Sunday to obtain all of those nylons. We went to the movies and then a pizza parlor Saturday night and I was exhausted. I knew it was going to be difficult to get the stockings if not impossible. As I readied for bed my mind raced with ideas on how to get into the garage undetected. I drifted off to sleep thinking about those beautiful new, sheer nylon stockings and suddenly I became aware that I had a boner.
When I awoke on Sunday it was like any other Sunday. We ate breakfast and then dressed for church. When we got home from church we changed our clothes and waited for lunch. My mother told Dad that she was going to go to my grandparent’s for a couple hours. My father didn’t want to go because there was something he wanted to watch on television. I asked Dad if I could stay home and he said it was okay but he didn’t want me outside since he was going to watch the football game. Mom wanted me to go but I faked having a headache so she backed off.
After Mom had been gone for about an hour Dad went into the kitchen and made himself a couple of sandwiches. He asked if I wanted anything I said “some Pepsi” and then I went back to my room. Ten minutes later I crept downstairs. Now was the time to get those nylons. Dad was busy down in the basement recreation room with his game and sandwiches. It would be a piece of cake.
I slid the sliding door open and walked over to the garage. The side door was unlocked and I went inside and looked for the trash bags. They were between the rear of my father’s car and the garage door. I began peeking inside but really couldn’t see anything. One bag was not drawn shut as tight as the other two. I looked in and thought I saw stockings but wasn’t sure. I slipped my hand inside and felt around. “Silky, cool, soft, yes; nylon stockings!” I thought to myself. I looked at the draw strings and saw that I could easily untie them and open the bag so that it just what I did. I opened the top of the bag wide and lying on top were the nylons. I began to pick up each little pile (pair) and tried to hold them all in my hands but it was too much. Some of them unfurled hanging down in front of me and over my arms as if I were holding a stocking octopus.
Still looking in the bag at what remained I began thinking “what can I put them in?” As soon as the thought ended I heard someone clear their throat. I looked up and saw Dad standing in the doorway trying to conceal a smile. I immediately flushed and felt embarrassed at getting caught but especially because he had caught me with nylon stockings. “Well, what’s going on in here Michael?” he said. I didn’t immediately answer. I just stood there hoping he would do the talking. He walked around to the back of the car and looked at me, then the bag then back at me. “Looks like you have found yourself a treasure. It looks like you found your mother’s nylons.” I still didn’t answer but the entire time I stood there silent the thought kept running through my mind “I’m keeping them, I’m keeping them.”
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably no more than 2 minutes Dad said “that sure is a lot of nylons isn’t it? Did you get all of them?” he asked. I finally answered “no, there are some in the bag.” Dad said “they are falling out of your arms; you need to put them in something, let me find something.” He opened one of the other trash bags and dug down deep. He pulled an old pillowcase from it and placed it on the trunk of the car. He then reached into the open bag and pulled the remaining stockings from it and put them in the pillowcase. He reached out toward me with his right hand and gently grabbed a fistful of nylon and dropped the stockings into the pillowcase. He repeated the act until I was no longer holding any stockings. All the while we didn’t speak. Finally, he said “check inside the bag and make sure there aren’t any more stockings inside.” I looked inside and there were none.
“So what are you planning to do with these nylons?” he asked. My heart sank a little because I really didn’t want to tell him I was going to wear them even though he knew as much. Dad said “As soon as you said you wanted to stay home I suspected it was because you were going to try and get these nylons.” I stammered “I want them; I want to keep them for me. I like them.” I said. Dad queried “what is it you like about them? I said “I like how they feel on me and I like how they look. My legs look good in them.” You know your mother is dead set against it. I then began the whining “please, you were going to throw them out anyway. I heard you and Mom say the stockings don’t have runs and you weren’t happy about throwing good stockings out. So why can’t I have them then?” That hit a nerve with him.
He said “if I let you have these to play with you must not let your mother know about it so you’d better hide them well and be discreet.” “Oh I will be, I promise” I said. “I’m not joking around Michael. If your mother knows you have them I’ll never hear the end of it. I’m going to give them to you to play with and when they are used up, that’s it. No more.” “Okay, okay, no one will know” I said. “How long do you need them to play with before you’re done with them?” Dad asked. “Oh a long time.” I said. “A long time? You won’t be done with them by next weekend? he asked. “No, I know not to get runs like Mom. I had a pair of her cinnamon stockings for a long time.” I said. “Oh… what? You have already taken a pair of your mother’s stockings?” I replied “yes, they were cinnamon stockings with runs and I wore them for a long time.” “So you fished those out of the trash? Michael!” Dad began shaking his head while half laughing.
Dad said “I don’t care if you want to play with them. But your mother does, so that’s the problem. Just don’t steal any pantyhose from your mother. She is now wearing pantyhose.” I dared ask “can I take her pantyhose when they get a run?” Before he could reply I said “remember they are going to go in the trash.” “What did I just say? Do not touch her pantyhose and these stockings are it, the end. No more after this. Now go inside with them but like I said make sure you are discreet or else.”
I dashed up to my room and pulled off my shoes, socks and pants and took two matching stockings from the pillowcase. Hanes was printed on the welt and the nylons were jet black ultra sheer with reinforced toes and nude heels. I loved the look of the black stockings. They were so dark and in my mind I thought they were mysterious. Once I had the stockings up to my thighs I sat on the floor and dumped the bag of stockings out.
I began matching each stocking up with its mate. I was happy to see there were two pairs of cinnamon colored stockings. The rest of the collection was shades of suntan, quicksilver, off-black, black and coffee. They were a mix of RHT and reinforced toes styles. Once I matched up the stockings I carefully folded them. When I finished I counted them and Dad was correct there were 21 pairs of stockings. From what I could tell while sorting and folding them none of the stockings appeared to have ever been worn. It’s no wonder Dad didn’t want to throw the stockings out. “Well, at least I will get to love them” I thought.
I suddenly became aware that I was being watched. I looked up and Dad was standing in the doorway. He saw me sitting on the floor wearing the black stockings. I was quite embarrassed. I had no problem discussing the subject of nylons but being seen wearing them still left me feeling shy. He asked me where I was going to hide them and I told him it was a secret. “It’s a secret from me?” he said. “Yes, I’m not telling you because you might decide to take them” I said. He chuckled softly and then said “Hey why don’t we make a deal?” I replied “what?” Dad said “how about you give me those black nylons you are wearing when your Mom pulls up in the driveway? I’ll throw them out and we won’t have to worry about you getting caught. You will still have the others to wear when it is safe.” I quickly shot back “No, there isn’t anything wrong with them, all of them are new.”
He said “I know, but you’re wearing them, you’ll have them on for a couple more hours and then you can give them to me because you used them. We can throw them out.” I wasn’t having any of it. I replied “no, I want them all and I really like this black pair.” Dad said “we’ll make a deal that each time you wear a pair you give them to me when you are done so I can throw them out and that way you won’t get and you will have less to hide.” I said “you want to me to throw away nylons that are good and you were mad at Mom for doing it.” He said “well, at least you are wearing them so they are being used. How about it? Each time you wear a pair we’ll throw them out?” I again said “No. Not until they get runs.” Dad finally accepted that he had created a monster and I wasn’t about to give the stockings up quietly so he turned and walked out of the room.
I wore those stockings for several months and never got caught with them. Ironically, when my mother would throw out a pair of pantyhose I was caught at least half the time.
Less than a week after I was left with no choice but to throw out the trashed cinnamon nylon stockings did I see nylons d****d on my parent’s bed. This time they were off-black but at that time I would have called them black as I didn’t know any better then. My parents were sitting on the patio so I knew I had a little bit of time to look over the stockings. I went into their room and looked at the stockings d****d over the bed. I could see only half their length as Mom’s dress and slip lay over them. I didn’t see a girdle and was hoping it wasn’t hidden under her clothes. I didn’t want to disturb her clothes so I decided I would simply pull the stockings out from under the clothes.
I took hold of the upper portion of the stockings and began to slowly pull them out. Slowly I pulled on the stockings as they inched out from under her dress. Finally, they were out and I was left puzzled. “What’s this?” I thought. The stockings were attached and they had their own brief, i.e., panty. I’d seen pantyhose commercials and immediately knew what I had in front of me. “Oh pantyhose” I thought. I wondered why Mom had them. I figured she wanted to try something new. In any case, I wanted to try them too. They weren’t as sheer as her stockings but they were very soft. I stuffed them down my briefs and retreated to the bathroom.
Once I locked the door, I jumped out of my pants and yanked my socks off. I sat on the toilet and began gathering the length of the first stocking. I slipped it over my left foot and began inching the fabric up and then gathered the other stocking and slipped it over my right foot. I just knew how to put them on. I inched the fabric up my legs, alternating from leg to leg and then pulled the panty up into place. The pantyhose were too large for me and as a result the fabric wasn’t fully extended but I didn’t care because I loved the fact that they would stay up due to the panty. The fabric was also extremely soft. If I pulled the stockings up tight and held them at my upper thighs until the fabric was extended from the toes up they were quite sheer. The hose had sheer toes and a dark panty top.
Then and there I fell in love with pantyhose. I wanted them so bad. I kept thinking “would she know they are missing?” Suddenly I became aware of an incredible tingling sensation in my groin. I looked down and saw that I had a boner. The first time I can recall having one. I pulled the waistband of my briefs back and peeked inside. “Did pantyhose do this?” I thought. In any case, I liked it just as I liked how my heart raced when I ran to the bathroom to put the pantyhose on. After a little play of running my hands over my legs, rubbing my feet together and wiggling my toes I begrudgingly removed them and returned them.
I quickly checked Mom’s dresser drawers to see if she had more pantyhose. I noticed her stockings drawer appeared to have about the same number of stockings as when I last looked. However, another drawer had several unopened packets of pantyhose. I went to my room to contemplate the situation. I deduced she must be phasing out stockings in favor of pantyhose.
Autumn was just around the corner and my parent’s were on a kick to get rid of things. Two large trash bags of clothes were put together along with some old towels, coats, sheets and shoes for charity. My parents had yet to go through their closets until one Saturday afternoon they were in their room going through their closets. Dad began putting his clothing in a large trash bag. I was in my room and could see and hear what was happening. I heard several of my mother’s dresser drawers open and close which had me extremely curious about what if anything she was removing from them.
I heard Dad ask “does this dress go?” to which my Mom replied “yes.” There was more rummaging in the closets and I saw a pair of shoes go in the bag and then what appeared to be a girdle. Then my father asked “are you getting rid of these nylons?” Mom said “yes” to which Dad said “all of them?” My mind and heart immediately began racing. Incredulously my father asked “You got runs in all of these nylons?” Mom said “no, none of them have runs; I’m converting over to pantyhose. I’m giving up girdles and nylons.” Dad said “well I’d think you would want to use them up?” Mom replied back “I’m done with girdles, pantyhose are much more comfortable. If you want to wear them go ahead.” Mom chuckled and Dad said “well we know that’s not going to happen.” As they were talking Dad was placing the stockings in the trash bag. When he finished he said “I counted 21 pair” to which Mom said “sounds about right.” Dad said “I just think you should use them up” to which Mom said “No sense in keeping them if I’m not going to wear them.”
The next thing Dad said totally blew my mind. “Well if I give them to Michael you know he would play in them.” Mom immediately shot back “Oh no! No! I don’t want to encourage that. We already put a stop to it and I don’t want it encouraged.” Then Dad said “he’ll play with them, wear them for a while and he will quickly ruin them. He’ll get bored with them after he has worn them and had a chance to really play with them. I think he’s just curious about them. Sometimes saying no only makes someone want what they can’t have that much more.” “No! I mean it!” replied my mother.
I was sitting in my room pretending to play with Matchbox cars thinking about how Dad has just tried to give me all those glorious new, sheer nylon stockings. Now I was bound and determined to get my hands on them. I knew if caught by Dad I would be embarrassed but he wouldn’t make a big deal about it. Mom on the other hand would flip out so I needed to make sure she did not catch me trying to get them.
My father tied the trash bag draw strings and carried it down to the garage. The three bags would be put into the trunk of the car on Sunday evening and my father would drop them off late Monday afternoon on his way home from work. I had only Saturday evening and Sunday to obtain all of those nylons. We went to the movies and then a pizza parlor Saturday night and I was exhausted. I knew it was going to be difficult to get the stockings if not impossible. As I readied for bed my mind raced with ideas on how to get into the garage undetected. I drifted off to sleep thinking about those beautiful new, sheer nylon stockings and suddenly I became aware that I had a boner.
When I awoke on Sunday it was like any other Sunday. We ate breakfast and then dressed for church. When we got home from church we changed our clothes and waited for lunch. My mother told Dad that she was going to go to my grandparent’s for a couple hours. My father didn’t want to go because there was something he wanted to watch on television. I asked Dad if I could stay home and he said it was okay but he didn’t want me outside since he was going to watch the football game. Mom wanted me to go but I faked having a headache so she backed off.
After Mom had been gone for about an hour Dad went into the kitchen and made himself a couple of sandwiches. He asked if I wanted anything I said “some Pepsi” and then I went back to my room. Ten minutes later I crept downstairs. Now was the time to get those nylons. Dad was busy down in the basement recreation room with his game and sandwiches. It would be a piece of cake.
I slid the sliding door open and walked over to the garage. The side door was unlocked and I went inside and looked for the trash bags. They were between the rear of my father’s car and the garage door. I began peeking inside but really couldn’t see anything. One bag was not drawn shut as tight as the other two. I looked in and thought I saw stockings but wasn’t sure. I slipped my hand inside and felt around. “Silky, cool, soft, yes; nylon stockings!” I thought to myself. I looked at the draw strings and saw that I could easily untie them and open the bag so that it just what I did. I opened the top of the bag wide and lying on top were the nylons. I began to pick up each little pile (pair) and tried to hold them all in my hands but it was too much. Some of them unfurled hanging down in front of me and over my arms as if I were holding a stocking octopus.
Still looking in the bag at what remained I began thinking “what can I put them in?” As soon as the thought ended I heard someone clear their throat. I looked up and saw Dad standing in the doorway trying to conceal a smile. I immediately flushed and felt embarrassed at getting caught but especially because he had caught me with nylon stockings. “Well, what’s going on in here Michael?” he said. I didn’t immediately answer. I just stood there hoping he would do the talking. He walked around to the back of the car and looked at me, then the bag then back at me. “Looks like you have found yourself a treasure. It looks like you found your mother’s nylons.” I still didn’t answer but the entire time I stood there silent the thought kept running through my mind “I’m keeping them, I’m keeping them.”
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably no more than 2 minutes Dad said “that sure is a lot of nylons isn’t it? Did you get all of them?” he asked. I finally answered “no, there are some in the bag.” Dad said “they are falling out of your arms; you need to put them in something, let me find something.” He opened one of the other trash bags and dug down deep. He pulled an old pillowcase from it and placed it on the trunk of the car. He then reached into the open bag and pulled the remaining stockings from it and put them in the pillowcase. He reached out toward me with his right hand and gently grabbed a fistful of nylon and dropped the stockings into the pillowcase. He repeated the act until I was no longer holding any stockings. All the while we didn’t speak. Finally, he said “check inside the bag and make sure there aren’t any more stockings inside.” I looked inside and there were none.
“So what are you planning to do with these nylons?” he asked. My heart sank a little because I really didn’t want to tell him I was going to wear them even though he knew as much. Dad said “As soon as you said you wanted to stay home I suspected it was because you were going to try and get these nylons.” I stammered “I want them; I want to keep them for me. I like them.” I said. Dad queried “what is it you like about them? I said “I like how they feel on me and I like how they look. My legs look good in them.” You know your mother is dead set against it. I then began the whining “please, you were going to throw them out anyway. I heard you and Mom say the stockings don’t have runs and you weren’t happy about throwing good stockings out. So why can’t I have them then?” That hit a nerve with him.
He said “if I let you have these to play with you must not let your mother know about it so you’d better hide them well and be discreet.” “Oh I will be, I promise” I said. “I’m not joking around Michael. If your mother knows you have them I’ll never hear the end of it. I’m going to give them to you to play with and when they are used up, that’s it. No more.” “Okay, okay, no one will know” I said. “How long do you need them to play with before you’re done with them?” Dad asked. “Oh a long time.” I said. “A long time? You won’t be done with them by next weekend? he asked. “No, I know not to get runs like Mom. I had a pair of her cinnamon stockings for a long time.” I said. “Oh… what? You have already taken a pair of your mother’s stockings?” I replied “yes, they were cinnamon stockings with runs and I wore them for a long time.” “So you fished those out of the trash? Michael!” Dad began shaking his head while half laughing.
Dad said “I don’t care if you want to play with them. But your mother does, so that’s the problem. Just don’t steal any pantyhose from your mother. She is now wearing pantyhose.” I dared ask “can I take her pantyhose when they get a run?” Before he could reply I said “remember they are going to go in the trash.” “What did I just say? Do not touch her pantyhose and these stockings are it, the end. No more after this. Now go inside with them but like I said make sure you are discreet or else.”
I dashed up to my room and pulled off my shoes, socks and pants and took two matching stockings from the pillowcase. Hanes was printed on the welt and the nylons were jet black ultra sheer with reinforced toes and nude heels. I loved the look of the black stockings. They were so dark and in my mind I thought they were mysterious. Once I had the stockings up to my thighs I sat on the floor and dumped the bag of stockings out.
I began matching each stocking up with its mate. I was happy to see there were two pairs of cinnamon colored stockings. The rest of the collection was shades of suntan, quicksilver, off-black, black and coffee. They were a mix of RHT and reinforced toes styles. Once I matched up the stockings I carefully folded them. When I finished I counted them and Dad was correct there were 21 pairs of stockings. From what I could tell while sorting and folding them none of the stockings appeared to have ever been worn. It’s no wonder Dad didn’t want to throw the stockings out. “Well, at least I will get to love them” I thought.
I suddenly became aware that I was being watched. I looked up and Dad was standing in the doorway. He saw me sitting on the floor wearing the black stockings. I was quite embarrassed. I had no problem discussing the subject of nylons but being seen wearing them still left me feeling shy. He asked me where I was going to hide them and I told him it was a secret. “It’s a secret from me?” he said. “Yes, I’m not telling you because you might decide to take them” I said. He chuckled softly and then said “Hey why don’t we make a deal?” I replied “what?” Dad said “how about you give me those black nylons you are wearing when your Mom pulls up in the driveway? I’ll throw them out and we won’t have to worry about you getting caught. You will still have the others to wear when it is safe.” I quickly shot back “No, there isn’t anything wrong with them, all of them are new.”
He said “I know, but you’re wearing them, you’ll have them on for a couple more hours and then you can give them to me because you used them. We can throw them out.” I wasn’t having any of it. I replied “no, I want them all and I really like this black pair.” Dad said “we’ll make a deal that each time you wear a pair you give them to me when you are done so I can throw them out and that way you won’t get and you will have less to hide.” I said “you want to me to throw away nylons that are good and you were mad at Mom for doing it.” He said “well, at least you are wearing them so they are being used. How about it? Each time you wear a pair we’ll throw them out?” I again said “No. Not until they get runs.” Dad finally accepted that he had created a monster and I wasn’t about to give the stockings up quietly so he turned and walked out of the room.
I wore those stockings for several months and never got caught with them. Ironically, when my mother would throw out a pair of pantyhose I was caught at least half the time.
Annalisa
- 05.11.2020
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My pantyhose fetish origin
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Birth of a pantyhose fetish
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