In the early 1970s, before pantyhose replaced stockings, I had a neat experience on a local commuter airline. Shortly after boarding one morning, I seated myself in an aisle seat where I knew I would have a nice view of the stewardesses. On this flight, there was one particularly beautiful stew--a Chinese woman in her mid-20s, about 5'7", trim, and slender legs. Her name was Lynn. Her uniform consisted of an off-white, knee-length dress, coffee-colored hose, and 2" heels.
As Lynn walked down the aisle checking to see whether everyone was seated properly, I couldn't take my eyes off her tightly-fitting dress that showed a hint of what she wore underneath. She must have had a thin slip, or no slip, because her white garter straps and dark stocking tops, as well as her panty lines showed through. The bumps of her garter tabs were quite visible against the smooth surface of her dress.
Whenever she reached up to check the overhead bins, her dress rode up to reveal the dark tops of her stockings, but not quite her thighs. When she walked past my seat, I made sure my arm stuck out a little on the armrest. Sure enough, her nylon-clad leg brushed against my arm, sending an electrical charge up to my head. Mercifully, we took off shortly after.
I chose my seat well. She sat up ahead in the stew's chairs facing the rear. I had a clear view of her as she sat during takeoff. The gorgeous view of her legs sheathed in coffee toned nylons sure beat the scenery outside. As she crossed her legs and recrossed them, I could almost hear the distinct sound of nylons. There were many tantalizing views of her stockings as her dress rode up enough to provide glimpses up her thighs.
In the middle of the short flight, she came down the aisle serving juice, soda, and water. As she approached me, the plane must have hit an air pocket as it dropped suddenly, sending Lynn tumbling backward onto the aisle. She couldn't keep her balance and fell on the floor, legs splayed all over--with all the drinks spilling onto her. For a moment, she sat bewildered with her left leg stretched out, her right knee up, and her thin white dress soaked through.
I unstrapped my seat buckle, got up, and walked toward her, when we hit another air pocket. I fell forward and ended up with my head between her legs, driving up her dress hem way beyond her dark stocking tops. My left hand rested on her right leg, while my right hand was on her left thigh--right on her white garter straps. I looked right into her sheer white panties, the fair skin of her upper thighs exposed above her long, sheer stockings which extended way up to her crotch.
When I saw the distinct light edge of her dark stockings, I knew I had a rare treat. She was wearing those old Hanes stockings, the sheer non-stretch kind that's hard to find today. I also recognized the color--Gentlebrown--a dark brown, like coffee, but not quite as dark as Barely Black. Gentlebrown just happened to be my favorite color, next to South Pacific, a suntan color, Barely There, a light tan, and Town Taupe.