I have a pantyhose fetish. There, I've said it. I've never flat out told this to anyone before. You mention any type, color, or style of pantyhose, and I've got it. And more than one pair of them too. I've loved pantyhose as long as I can remember. I like how sexy they are on me. I like how they feel against my skin. I love the variety of what you can find. I have red, green, purple, leopard, and fishnets. I have bodystockings, pantyhose, thigh highs, and knee-highs, and different styles in each. Like I said, you name it, I've got it. My name is Keri, and I have a pantyhose fetish.
Now, you might be asking what I do with all of my pantyhose. Well, just about everything. However, I have at least two pairs of every one. I have a pair that I don't use on a regular basis. They are like my backup pair. I keep them neatly stashed away in a lockable container, all organized by type. Then I have the pair that I do use. I also keep these neat as well, and organized, but used. With some of them, I have even more. The ones I have extra off tend to be my playthings. They are for other uses. You see, when I got my first bodystocking, I fell even further in love with pantyhose. I loved how it felt all over my body. That is when I discovered an alternate use for pantyhose. You take a regular pair of pantyhose, and by cutting a few holes, you can wear them as shirts. Then I take your basic knee or thigh high, and put that over my head like you sometimes see robbers do. It's a remarkable sensation that you have to try sometime. The feeling of pantyhose rubbing against my 34D breasts is something that cannot be explained. I even found a site dedicated to this stuff...I immediately became a member.
Now why am I telling you all of this? Well, I have one problem. I often feel alone when it comes to this. I want to tell people about my fetish, but am afraid that people will hate me when I tell them. So I've come to you, in hopes that someone out there understand what I'm going through. Someone who enjoys pantyhose like I do, whether you be male or female. Write to me and tell me about your pantyhose experiences. Like I am about to do for you now.
Only once has anyone ever learned about my fascination with pantyhose. I know, I mentioned earlier that I've never told anyone before. Well this is a bit different. I didn't tell this person, they learned about it. Her name was Cindy. She is the only person I've met who actually loves pantyhose as much as I do, and it was a chance encounter. It was at a bar called Logans. I was at the bar, drinking a Bud Light, when she approached. Now, I must tell you what I was wearing. I was wearing a long-sleeve red dress, one that showed no cleavage at all. Why you ask, especially how easy it is to pick up men by showing cleavage? Well, instead of a bra, I was wearing a pair of altered black pantyhose. I had cut out a hole around the crotch, and cut off the feet. It was one of those pairs I altered so I could wear it out in public, without anyone knowing. That is why my dress didn't show cleavage. I also was wearing black pantyhose the normal way down below, and yes, they were crotchless. When she approached, the first thing I noticed, can you guess, were her pantyhose. She had on a dark blue pair. Imagine my surprise when I saw the same exact dress on her. For an instant, I imagined that it was for the same reason I was, but quickly dismissed that thought. When she got to the bar, she ordered a drink, looked at me, and whistled. "Didn't think I would see someone else wearing my dress, and looking so good in it too." I smiled, and thanked her. That was when she did it. She pulled up a stool, and placed a hand on my knee. I looked down, and back up with a look of question. Boy, how my plans changed with that one move.
"Can I buy you another drink?" she asked. Unable to think properly, I nodded yes. Pretty soon we were on the floor dancing. Then it happened. All I could gather was that she felt the seam where I had cut into the pantyhose. She ran her hand along my back, and stopped. She gave me a look, than pulled me to the side of the room. Without anyone seeing, she pulled the front of my dress forward and looked down. When she saw what was underneath, she let go of my dress, leaned over to me and whispered, "How about we leave this joint?" My jaw dropped. Not only was she interested in me, she also wasn't disgusted by my choice for an undergarment. When we got outside, I asked where she wanted to go. She pushed me against the wall, kissed me, and said, "Your place." We left immediately, hand in hand.