Billy Becomes Bill
- 4 years ago
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Billy Becomes Bill - The Continuing Nylons Adventu free porn video
By now, Billy had a very substantial stash of pilfered and salvaged nylons all carefully sorted by color and cleverly hidden away in three book slipcases in his room. He began to notice that his obesession with women's hosiery was more complex than he initially realized.
He actually enjoyed organizing and comparing the seemingly endless array of nylons. He treated them as cherished treasure found, some associated with very substantial risk in connection with their acquisition. They had a hypnotic affect with their alluring sheen and whispy sheerness. Even though at least half of his collection were damaged retrievals from wastebins, he treated them with equal admiration and passion as their perfect relative counterparts borrowed from the lingerie drawers of assorted women.
Despite their sheer, (pun intended), numbers, there weren't enough nylons in the entire world to satisfy Billy's addictive attraction to these mysterious and alluring simple articles of feminine clothing. If he wasn't spending time jacking off or merely organizing his cherished collection, he was constantly on the lookout for another nylon high jacking opportunity. Worn nylons representated a surrogate sexual experience with the woman they belonged to. Their scent, often punctuated with notes of the wearer's perfume, made the experience that much more real.
He often cased locations to determine the relative risk to nylon value in order to decide what success he might achieve by entering someone's home in their absence. His worst concern was that there would be few or even no nylons in the selected drawer or the nylons he might discover would not be ultra sheer, instead, made of some new fangled chemistry experiment intended to invent a more durable nylon fiber. He hated scientific attempts at improving durability or run proofing stockings. They looked like deflated balloons and were often rought and scratchy to the touch. How absurd he thought. Why not just leave well enough alone. He supposed that women were fed up with the constant cost of replacing snagged and run stockings. Ironically, that was one of the ways he consistently kept his collection growing.
The world of nylon hosiery was changing as fast as the rest of the world around him in the late 60's. The cry for more selfish and personal freedoms was ringing loudly especially among his generation. As hemlines creeped north ever so steadily, stockings, with their very noticeable dark welts attached to shiny garters, were no longer very practical. And, almost in an instant it seemed, pantyhose started showing up where the stockings use to be.
As Billy entered high school he preferred that his friends call him Bill which made him feel more mature and manly than the diminutive version of his name that his parents and relatives seemed to favor. His interest in girls was increasing exponentially because he had reached and passed puberty which ignited a sexual fire of passion and arousal in his young body and mind. Nylons had become inextricably emeshed in his sexuality and the two were inseperable. Sex meant nylons and nylons equalled sex.
The best thing about being in high school in those days was being surrounded daily by hundreds of girls his age most of who wore some form of nylon hosiery. Even though these were the pantyhose transition years, many female students and women teachers still opted for classic stockings. He prided himself in being able to quickly and confidently spot them on a pair of feminine legs whenever the opportunity arose, which was frequently. Girls were not allowed to wear pants until after Easter vacation so skirts and dresses were commonplace.
Bill could expertly detect stockings by their tell tale, subtle creases and wrinkles around a woman's ankles or knees when she moved a certain way. The nylon material used to manufacture pantyhose back then did not respond to movement that way. He knew some woman hated wrinkles or bagging stockings so that provided another research project for the nylon chemists.
When Billy was a sophomore, he got his first touch of pussy and nylons. Her name was Cindy. She was a slight little thing - probably a full foot shorter than Billy who was already pushing 6 feet. She had long, dark, straight hair parted in middle which made her appear a bit like Cousin It from the Addams Family. She was cute but not beautiful. She was awkward and lacked confidence. She always wore stockings which appeared more like satin than nylon. They weren't very sheer and they were thicker than the ones most other girls wore. Despite that, they would suffice because they were still very slippery and smooth to the touch.
One Saturday night, he found himself alone with Cindy in his absent parents bedroom while a few other friends were over for party. He started by slowly caressing her nylon clad legs, working his way north toward the keys to the kingdom. He had seen a picture of two of pussies but he had never touched one nor seen one firsthand so he was burning with anticipation.
Cindy's privates were well armoured, surrounded by a long legged panty girdle that held her nylons in place. He wasn't use to this item of feminie attire because his mother always wore an open bottom girdle with easy access. He knew many girls opted for this type of girdle. He had a cousin who was just a couple of years older than him who wore one all the time. She was actually the first girl whose nylons he touched when he was about 10 years old. She was already 12 and had reached that right of passage most young girls longed for back then - to be able to wear nylons like a grown woman.
Meanwhile, back at his house, Bill began touching and rubbing her protected pussy through the smooth, white stretchy fabric of her girdle. She responded by slowly, almost unnoticably rotating her hips while slightly pushing back against his probing hand and fingers.
Bill could feel himself becoming fully erect. His growing arousal was pronounced by the slow drips of pre-cum emanating from the tip of his cock. He could feel its wetness in his underwear. Bill's passion grew as he moved his hand down the front of Cindy's restrictive girdle until it was just shy of touching the treasure he sought. It was an awkward move and his hand was pressed tightly against her smooth skin by the compression of her girdle.
Then it happened. Cindy suddenly grabbed his hand and said something that Bill thought was the most inaccurate statement about pussy he had ever heard. For Bill, pussy was the holy grail of boyhood sexuality - the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow - the ultimate quest every virgin male teen dreamed of. She was preparing him for what she thought was going to be an unpleasant experience as though her moist pussy represented some disgusting, unappealing part of her anatomy.
Bill was initially perplexed by her reticense to proceed as he wondered where or how she came to acquire such a distorted perception of the most desireable part of her femaleness. Bill assured her he would not suffer some sort of irreparable harm or disgust as he proceeded to push his fingers in between her heavenly slit which was already slick and slippery with her own experience of teen arousal. He quickly realized that was what she must have been concerned about. Bill's reaction was the exact opposite. It was a moment he would never forget and he realized later in life how lucky he had been to find a girl with such a wet pussy following only a few moments of making out and petting.
When Bill felt her wetness as he explored deeper in between the lips of her cunt, he now understood her worry and concerns. Obviously, he was probably the first boy to probe the depths of her vagina and she didn't know how he was going to respond. Bill didn't initially put two and two together until years later when he realized Cindy must have masturbated frequently and was well aware of her pussy's penchant for becoming very wet and slick with arousal.
Cindy and Bill never fucked but they had a few other interludes with each other. Another memorable moment was the day Cindy reciprocated his touch by slipping her small hand down the front of his pants until she found his turgid erection which she firmly squeezed and caressed driving him crazy with sexual arousal. With the two of them still virgins, they proceeded tentatively with inexperience. Nothing went much farther between them because Bill's attention had been drawn elsewhere by a ravishing, slightly older girl he had met at school through some mutual friends.
Her name was Melody. She stood about 5 feet 7 inches, just the perfect accompaniment to his height. She was known for her clothes and style as she was among the best dressed girls on campus. She had long legs unlike Cindy that seemed to go on forever especially when she displayed them under a mini skirt that exposed more nylon covered thigh than school regulations permitted. She never looked slutty or inappropriate. Rather, she exuded a sweet innocence peppered with unavoidable teen sexuality expressed by what other girls often referred to as cute. She was cute but she was also hot, very hot.
Unlike Cindy who wore the same pair of black, clunky mid heel, tap dance like shoes tied together with a ribbon, Melody seemed to wear a different pair of heels almost every day. She seemed to have shoes to match every outfit which did not go unnoticied by Bill. She also wore many different colors and shades of hosiery from virginal white to the blackest black although she most commonly wore beige or tan pantyhose. Her hemlines were all too short for stockings but that would eventually change.
A few weeks later, Bill found himself alone in the back of someone's station wagon parked at a party with Melody. She was wearing a dress with pantyhose as they began to make out hoping not to be disturbed or discovered. She had slipped off her shoes and was running her nylon clad feet up and down Bill's legs as if she knew doing so would drive him crazy with desire and arousal. Bill though he had met the girl of his dreams. He felt comfortably connected with her and she felt the same about him. This was puppy love but it was intense and heartfelt.
As Melody continued rubbing her pantyhose covered legs and feet on Bill's legs, he decided the time was right to confide his strange attraction to nylon hosiery to her.
"I like that" he mumbled almost unintelligibly. "Like what?" she responded. "The way your nylons feels when you rub them on my legs." he replied somewhat sheepishly. "You do, do you? You mean like this?" as she seemed to shift into a high gear intensifying the friction caused by her nylon clad legs against his pant legs.
"Yeah, I don't know what it is, but I really like the way your nylons feel when you rub your legs and feet against me" he confessed.
"I like it too" she assured him. "It feels good to me as well. "Im glad you like it."
The cat was out of the bag. Melody was the only other person he had ever told about his affinity for nylons and he felt a mixed bag of relief layered with intense arousal. He knew from that moment forward his connection with this wonderful girl was something erotically and intimately special.
After that memorable evening Bill and Melody became young lovers for more than seven years until that fateful evening when Bill's perverse desires got the best of them and it was over, just like that. Remember that night in Billy's parents' bedroom with Cindy? Melody was there that night as well and she ended up hooking up with a crude and distant acquaintance of Bill's name Martin.
After that night, Martin couldn't help but boast about his conquest of Melody in an adjacent bedroom not more than15 feet from his parents' bedroom where he was seeking sexual adventure with Cindy. A few months later, after Melody and Bill became an item, he asked her what happened. Did Martin really fuck her? Bill felt a confusing mixture of rage, jealously and intense sexual arousal wondering if she had indeed lost her virginity to his friend just across the hallway from his parents' bedroom while he was exploring Cindy's virginal pussy with his fingers.
The events of that evening became a cornerstone of Bill's fledgling fantasies about his girl Melody being taken and inseminated by one of his friends. That began a continuing saga of fantasies about thinking of his girlfriend being sexually conquered by another penis belonging to a rival friend. Little did Bill know or understand that this was only the beginning of something he would learn much later in life was known as cuckolding - when a man is sexually aroused by the vision or reality of his girl being sexually taken by another man, in this case, boy, while experiencing an intense level of sexual arousal.
He actually enjoyed organizing and comparing the seemingly endless array of nylons. He treated them as cherished treasure found, some associated with very substantial risk in connection with their acquisition. They had a hypnotic affect with their alluring sheen and whispy sheerness. Even though at least half of his collection were damaged retrievals from wastebins, he treated them with equal admiration and passion as their perfect relative counterparts borrowed from the lingerie drawers of assorted women.
Despite their sheer, (pun intended), numbers, there weren't enough nylons in the entire world to satisfy Billy's addictive attraction to these mysterious and alluring simple articles of feminine clothing. If he wasn't spending time jacking off or merely organizing his cherished collection, he was constantly on the lookout for another nylon high jacking opportunity. Worn nylons representated a surrogate sexual experience with the woman they belonged to. Their scent, often punctuated with notes of the wearer's perfume, made the experience that much more real.
He often cased locations to determine the relative risk to nylon value in order to decide what success he might achieve by entering someone's home in their absence. His worst concern was that there would be few or even no nylons in the selected drawer or the nylons he might discover would not be ultra sheer, instead, made of some new fangled chemistry experiment intended to invent a more durable nylon fiber. He hated scientific attempts at improving durability or run proofing stockings. They looked like deflated balloons and were often rought and scratchy to the touch. How absurd he thought. Why not just leave well enough alone. He supposed that women were fed up with the constant cost of replacing snagged and run stockings. Ironically, that was one of the ways he consistently kept his collection growing.
The world of nylon hosiery was changing as fast as the rest of the world around him in the late 60's. The cry for more selfish and personal freedoms was ringing loudly especially among his generation. As hemlines creeped north ever so steadily, stockings, with their very noticeable dark welts attached to shiny garters, were no longer very practical. And, almost in an instant it seemed, pantyhose started showing up where the stockings use to be.
As Billy entered high school he preferred that his friends call him Bill which made him feel more mature and manly than the diminutive version of his name that his parents and relatives seemed to favor. His interest in girls was increasing exponentially because he had reached and passed puberty which ignited a sexual fire of passion and arousal in his young body and mind. Nylons had become inextricably emeshed in his sexuality and the two were inseperable. Sex meant nylons and nylons equalled sex.
The best thing about being in high school in those days was being surrounded daily by hundreds of girls his age most of who wore some form of nylon hosiery. Even though these were the pantyhose transition years, many female students and women teachers still opted for classic stockings. He prided himself in being able to quickly and confidently spot them on a pair of feminine legs whenever the opportunity arose, which was frequently. Girls were not allowed to wear pants until after Easter vacation so skirts and dresses were commonplace.
Bill could expertly detect stockings by their tell tale, subtle creases and wrinkles around a woman's ankles or knees when she moved a certain way. The nylon material used to manufacture pantyhose back then did not respond to movement that way. He knew some woman hated wrinkles or bagging stockings so that provided another research project for the nylon chemists.
When Billy was a sophomore, he got his first touch of pussy and nylons. Her name was Cindy. She was a slight little thing - probably a full foot shorter than Billy who was already pushing 6 feet. She had long, dark, straight hair parted in middle which made her appear a bit like Cousin It from the Addams Family. She was cute but not beautiful. She was awkward and lacked confidence. She always wore stockings which appeared more like satin than nylon. They weren't very sheer and they were thicker than the ones most other girls wore. Despite that, they would suffice because they were still very slippery and smooth to the touch.
One Saturday night, he found himself alone with Cindy in his absent parents bedroom while a few other friends were over for party. He started by slowly caressing her nylon clad legs, working his way north toward the keys to the kingdom. He had seen a picture of two of pussies but he had never touched one nor seen one firsthand so he was burning with anticipation.
Cindy's privates were well armoured, surrounded by a long legged panty girdle that held her nylons in place. He wasn't use to this item of feminie attire because his mother always wore an open bottom girdle with easy access. He knew many girls opted for this type of girdle. He had a cousin who was just a couple of years older than him who wore one all the time. She was actually the first girl whose nylons he touched when he was about 10 years old. She was already 12 and had reached that right of passage most young girls longed for back then - to be able to wear nylons like a grown woman.
Meanwhile, back at his house, Bill began touching and rubbing her protected pussy through the smooth, white stretchy fabric of her girdle. She responded by slowly, almost unnoticably rotating her hips while slightly pushing back against his probing hand and fingers.
Bill could feel himself becoming fully erect. His growing arousal was pronounced by the slow drips of pre-cum emanating from the tip of his cock. He could feel its wetness in his underwear. Bill's passion grew as he moved his hand down the front of Cindy's restrictive girdle until it was just shy of touching the treasure he sought. It was an awkward move and his hand was pressed tightly against her smooth skin by the compression of her girdle.
Then it happened. Cindy suddenly grabbed his hand and said something that Bill thought was the most inaccurate statement about pussy he had ever heard. For Bill, pussy was the holy grail of boyhood sexuality - the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow - the ultimate quest every virgin male teen dreamed of. She was preparing him for what she thought was going to be an unpleasant experience as though her moist pussy represented some disgusting, unappealing part of her anatomy.
Bill was initially perplexed by her reticense to proceed as he wondered where or how she came to acquire such a distorted perception of the most desireable part of her femaleness. Bill assured her he would not suffer some sort of irreparable harm or disgust as he proceeded to push his fingers in between her heavenly slit which was already slick and slippery with her own experience of teen arousal. He quickly realized that was what she must have been concerned about. Bill's reaction was the exact opposite. It was a moment he would never forget and he realized later in life how lucky he had been to find a girl with such a wet pussy following only a few moments of making out and petting.
When Bill felt her wetness as he explored deeper in between the lips of her cunt, he now understood her worry and concerns. Obviously, he was probably the first boy to probe the depths of her vagina and she didn't know how he was going to respond. Bill didn't initially put two and two together until years later when he realized Cindy must have masturbated frequently and was well aware of her pussy's penchant for becoming very wet and slick with arousal.
Cindy and Bill never fucked but they had a few other interludes with each other. Another memorable moment was the day Cindy reciprocated his touch by slipping her small hand down the front of his pants until she found his turgid erection which she firmly squeezed and caressed driving him crazy with sexual arousal. With the two of them still virgins, they proceeded tentatively with inexperience. Nothing went much farther between them because Bill's attention had been drawn elsewhere by a ravishing, slightly older girl he had met at school through some mutual friends.
Her name was Melody. She stood about 5 feet 7 inches, just the perfect accompaniment to his height. She was known for her clothes and style as she was among the best dressed girls on campus. She had long legs unlike Cindy that seemed to go on forever especially when she displayed them under a mini skirt that exposed more nylon covered thigh than school regulations permitted. She never looked slutty or inappropriate. Rather, she exuded a sweet innocence peppered with unavoidable teen sexuality expressed by what other girls often referred to as cute. She was cute but she was also hot, very hot.
Unlike Cindy who wore the same pair of black, clunky mid heel, tap dance like shoes tied together with a ribbon, Melody seemed to wear a different pair of heels almost every day. She seemed to have shoes to match every outfit which did not go unnoticied by Bill. She also wore many different colors and shades of hosiery from virginal white to the blackest black although she most commonly wore beige or tan pantyhose. Her hemlines were all too short for stockings but that would eventually change.
A few weeks later, Bill found himself alone in the back of someone's station wagon parked at a party with Melody. She was wearing a dress with pantyhose as they began to make out hoping not to be disturbed or discovered. She had slipped off her shoes and was running her nylon clad feet up and down Bill's legs as if she knew doing so would drive him crazy with desire and arousal. Bill though he had met the girl of his dreams. He felt comfortably connected with her and she felt the same about him. This was puppy love but it was intense and heartfelt.
As Melody continued rubbing her pantyhose covered legs and feet on Bill's legs, he decided the time was right to confide his strange attraction to nylon hosiery to her.
"I like that" he mumbled almost unintelligibly. "Like what?" she responded. "The way your nylons feels when you rub them on my legs." he replied somewhat sheepishly. "You do, do you? You mean like this?" as she seemed to shift into a high gear intensifying the friction caused by her nylon clad legs against his pant legs.
"Yeah, I don't know what it is, but I really like the way your nylons feel when you rub your legs and feet against me" he confessed.
"I like it too" she assured him. "It feels good to me as well. "Im glad you like it."
The cat was out of the bag. Melody was the only other person he had ever told about his affinity for nylons and he felt a mixed bag of relief layered with intense arousal. He knew from that moment forward his connection with this wonderful girl was something erotically and intimately special.
After that memorable evening Bill and Melody became young lovers for more than seven years until that fateful evening when Bill's perverse desires got the best of them and it was over, just like that. Remember that night in Billy's parents' bedroom with Cindy? Melody was there that night as well and she ended up hooking up with a crude and distant acquaintance of Bill's name Martin.
After that night, Martin couldn't help but boast about his conquest of Melody in an adjacent bedroom not more than15 feet from his parents' bedroom where he was seeking sexual adventure with Cindy. A few months later, after Melody and Bill became an item, he asked her what happened. Did Martin really fuck her? Bill felt a confusing mixture of rage, jealously and intense sexual arousal wondering if she had indeed lost her virginity to his friend just across the hallway from his parents' bedroom while he was exploring Cindy's virginal pussy with his fingers.
The events of that evening became a cornerstone of Bill's fledgling fantasies about his girl Melody being taken and inseminated by one of his friends. That began a continuing saga of fantasies about thinking of his girlfriend being sexually conquered by another penis belonging to a rival friend. Little did Bill know or understand that this was only the beginning of something he would learn much later in life was known as cuckolding - when a man is sexually aroused by the vision or reality of his girl being sexually taken by another man, in this case, boy, while experiencing an intense level of sexual arousal.
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