Ilsas Fine Hosiery And Foundations

M/F, Femdom, Nylon Fetish, First time, Crossdressing, all characters over 18, Special thanks for editing help from susangreenway.

ILSA'S FINE HOSIERY AND FOUNDATION WEAR

By BlkNYLONS

CHAPTER ONE

1966 was a time in fashion that called for women to wear nylon stockings daily, the height of the nylon hosiery fashion industry. Store hosiery departments were filled with every style, and color of women's hosiery ever offered, an exciting time for a nylon fetishist!

My fascination for women's hosiery was started by mature women growing up around me that surely deeply fueled my nylon fetish. My crossdressing into wearing stockings, garters and was my deeply well-guarded secret. I had mastered the technique of wearing women's stockings, garters, and walking in stiletto heels to perfection early.

Years passed and it was frustrating and harder to fit into mother's heels: and the beautiful dark nylon reinforced heel and toe reinforcements as well as the length of her stockings were no longer fitting to perfection. I would have to adjust her garters to the longest length to reach the now shorter stocking tops. With the stockings now not fitting well I was frustrated; I was losing that beautiful visual effect of my stockings fitting to perfection I loved during my dress up fetish play.

I had just turned eighteen, and for a few years, I thought of getting up the nerve to buy my very first pair of stockings in my size. My scheme, asking to purchase stockings for my mother or an older sister in front of the female hosiery clerk, but I was always so shy and nervous at the thought.

Plus, the big department stores were so large and wide open; there was always the chance I might be seen by a family friend or school mate in the woman's department hosiery counter. As nervous as I was, my passion, fetish, and weakness for nylons never weakened. The excitement of wearing once again a pair of stockings that fit perfectly was so exciting for me. This was something I just had to have and continue to secretly experience my fetish desire to the fullest.

This was a good time because I had new birthday money to spend. I started to look in the yellow pages of the phone book--so many pages of lingerie--, I was excited just to see all the ads of stores selling lingerie and hosiery. I came upon a small ad for a shop called, "Ilsa's fine hosiery and foundations" specializing in hosiery, foundations, lingerie, girdles, corsets, and garter-belts. What really caught my eye and interest was that they specialized and sold

fine

hosiery with classically named brand stockings and styles such as fully-fashioned seamed and seamless nylons--, perfect!

The store was located downtown and only a 20-minute bus ride from home. I knew the area well but could not remember ever seeing such a specialty store like this, which I would have surely remembered.

The next Saturday I woke up with a full-blown erection and thoughts about my plan, I waited till later in the afternoon closer to the store's closing hours hoping there would not be many customers in the store. I headed to check out this specialty shop, I had told my mother I was going downtown to buy a model car kit at the local hobby store downtown. I was so nervous, but my desire and deep fetish for stockings encouraged my nerve to do this.

The city bus movement was bouncy was slow, I glanced over and spotted seated middle-aged women reading, her curvy legs encased in sheer shiny tan nylons, her heel of her foot popped out of the back of her high heel, the square darker nylon heel reinforcement and high arch of her foot fully exposed, the small wrinkles of nylon that formed at her ankle and back of her knee. I took in a deep sigh at the beautiful sight. I'm sure nobody else would even notice what my eyes were fixed on, but for me and my nylon foot fetish, I would never miss the attention to that smallest of details.

I had so many exciting thoughts with each new city block passing, but still with continued fear of embarrassment thinking what I was soon to be asking myself to do.

As the bus turned onto Mission Street, I knew I was closer, I kept an eye out at all the addresses on the buildings: odd number address I thought, it should be on the

opposite side of the street.

I was never more nervous and excited at the same time standing as I pulled the overhead cord wire signaling the driver of my next approaching stop. Exiting the bus, I walked to the corner crosswalk waiting for the light to change. I spotted the shop's name on a store front window directly across the street named, "Ilsa's Fine Hosiery Foundation Wear." I was nervous that the shop window display was directly in front of a bus stop. There were a few people gathered and waiting at the bus stop going the opposite direction, I glanced quickly, and they all looked older and no one my age or anyone I recognized.

I was now standing in front of the small shop storefront window. A window display was breathtaking with more than one female manikin dressed in full lingerie. Plastic display legs were encased with beautiful stockings of tans and blacks; there were heavy foundation garments such as girdles with garters which were all attached to the glossy stocking welts. It was as if I was looking at one of my mother's department store lingerie section catalogs, but everything was not in print but in full color, real life.

The now late afternoon sunlight in the front window was fully exposed on the black girdle and attached stockings directly in front of me; the shiny black satin front panel of the girdle as well as the large dark stocking welts shimmered in the sunlight. I wanted to reach out and just touch them!

I could not see into the shop, but there were lights on. I could not see anything beyond the high two-tier level window displays. I feared standing in front of the window looking in for much longer. I felt the looks from an elderly woman waiting for the bus. "Why was this young man looking into the window of a lingerie store?" I knew couldn't stare too long, I had to go in. To the left was one small entry door, a sign that hung on the inside of the glass door read, "Open." I took a deep breath, opened the door, and entered the shop.

CHAPTER TWO

A metal bell attached to the inside door clanged and startled me as I entered. I closed the door gently behind me to help quiet the bell. The shop was narrow but deep with high ceilings and old wooden floors; I took another deep breath as my eyes gazed upon a long glass hosiery display counter to my right. Behind it a wall filled and stacked with hosiery boxes. In the middle of the store were more of the same beautiful types of window display foundation-wear, in mostly classic white, tan, and black colors. The store was empty and dead quiet. I wanted to say something to announce my presence, but I could not speak or find my breath from being so nervous and excited.

I slowly and cautiously entered the store, the old wooden floor made light sounding squeaks with each step, my eyes in full amazement at all the beautiful displays before me. All the girdle and corset display I saw had stockings attached to them. All the garter tabs were in perfect proper attachments that held the stocking welts firmly. Oh my, the sight of all those garters and stockings gave me an instant uncontrollable erection. I kept both of my hands in my pants pockets; I desperately tried to control my breathing rate as I felt my cock firmly stiffening, but I was quickly failing.

Another table had shiny nylon panties like I had never seen. Some draped over a feminine porcelain hand revealing the fine sheer nylon denier of them. Beautiful garter-belts came in all colors, some lace, others in solid satin material. A display of a black, open-bottom girdle just like the one in the window was right in front of me; I looked around the shop once more, still no sign of a store attendant. I submissively reached for the shiny satin front panel; my hand trembled as my fingers glided over the front satin panel downward to and across the firm rubber garter tabs that were fixed to the glossy black stocking welts, so shiny, so smooth, oh my! I felt my cock grow another full inch as my fingers traced downward feeling and rested on the silky touch of the nylon stocking tops. I quickly removed my hand for fear of getting caught touching! Still, there was no store attendant around.

I continued over to the glass counter where the sight of all those stockings almost took my breath away. There were many shades of stockings in full display. On top of the glass counter there were plastic curvy shaped legs encased in stockings of distinctive styles and colors. I wanted to touch and feel the stockings on display but was too scared to reach out. This store was more than I could have imagined.

Next to the hosiery display was a pair of sitting chairs against the wall, and to the side, a table display of woman's stiletto high heels shoes in styles which I have never seen. Most of the styles were pumps with extreme elongated pointed toes and extreme thin spiked heels, a few slingbacks and mules, just like the kind my Aunt Mary wore, but more beautiful than even she had ever worn.

That's when in the dead quite store, I heard the faint sound of approaching clicking heels. But the sound was from above: to the left of the hosiery counter against the far-right back wall was a staircase that led up to an overhead second level office I did not notice when I entered the store and my eyes excitingly affixed to all the beautiful lingerie. There was a glass office door and a window to the left of it; both were covered with dark red velvet-like drapes or window covering. I was startled at the fact that now someone may have seen me, watching me browsing and touching the girdle and stockings in the middle of the showroom.

CHAPTER THREE

The office door opened, and a woman appeared at the top of the stairs, "Hello, I'm sorry dear for keeping you waiting!"

As she descended the steps, I was quick to notice her stature and attire. She was wearing a white satin blouse with a black shiny skirt; she had the perfect hourglass figure. Her breasts were full, large, that strained against the fully buttoned shiny fabric of her blouse. She was not heavy or fat, but very curvy and tall. The skirt was extremely form fitted to her figure. I quickly noticed her legs were encased in sheer jet-black stockings; she took slow careful side steps down the stairs holding on to the stair handrail, she was wearing a pair of extremely high black stiletto heels just like the ones I saw on display moments ago. My eyes focused on those heels; they were so high, pencil-thin spiky heels with almost razor-sharp pointed toes. With each carefully placed sidestep in her decent, my keen eyes could clearly make out big dark nylon heel reinforcements visually peeking out the back of the shoe's heel, forming into a dark seam and up her calf. Oh my, I swallowed, felt my breath quicken.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she walked behind the glass counter directly in front of me. I guessed she may have been in her forties, her beautiful green eyes and blond hair fixed high up in a classic beehive style. The silence broke once more with a friendly, "Well how can I help you dear, I'm Ilsa, what brings such a young man into my shop?"

Her friendly voice was pleasing, attached with it a strong accent that I guessed was German.

I took another deep breath and tried to speak. In her high heels she stood across the counter taller, I felt her presence, she was an unexpected vision of beauty. I felt my self-confidence weakening and could feel myself start to deeply blush. With my erection now out of control and still straining, I was ready to walk out of the store without even asking for help. I already felt so embarrassed. I looked away from her eyes; there was a moment of recognition from both of us.

I took another deep breath, somehow, I found words, I pointed down into the glass counter in front of me, my hand and fingers uncontrollably shaking, where so many pairs of beautiful stockings were on display.

I said, "Yes, ah, thank you, I was looking to buy some stock...stockings, I paused then quickly added, stockings for my mother!"

I felt myself still in full blush, quickly looking up at her eyes then quickly down again at the counter and all those beautiful stockings.

Her response was simple, "Yes, I see! How lucky your mother is to have a nice young man buying her stockings. And now that you know my name, what's your name young man?"

I smiled and softly replied, "David."

She smiled back and said, "Ah yes David, now that's better, we are getting to know each other already, and what size, style, and color do

you

, I mean your mother wear dear?"

I felt my stomachache, and knew I wanted sizes that were larger than my mother's size she wore.

Nervously I said, "I think 10 she told me, no maybe 11? And oh yes long, she likes them to be very long in the length!"

I felt my face turn beet red; I was now as nervous as I ever felt, I felt like I was failing miserably in my effort to pretend the stockings were for my mother.

She then leaned closer over the counter to me looking directly into my eyes, "David if I may ask, how old are you?"

"Ah, I just turned eighteen two days ago!"

"Well happy birthday then David, you're a very handsome young man, if I may say!"

She leaned in closer, "If I may share, David this is a very friendly

fetish

shop. Do you know what that means?"

I just shrugged my shoulders innocently and shook my head no.

She continued with, "Do you know what the word fetish means?"

I may have heard the word before, but really not, innocently shook my head no.

With her green eyes still focused on mine she then placed both of her hands over mine resting on the glass counter. She held them firm and with a gentle rub, with a whisper, "Let's start all over here, shall we? Let me ask you a few questions and make things a little easier for you. All you must do is give me honest answers, ok?"

She was so close to me, she was so beautiful, her hands were touching mine, I could smell her perfume, my knees felt weak, I swallowed, just nodded yes.

"Good" she said, "And please don't be embarrassed, I'm here to help you in ways you never dreamed of. Many times, a fetish is something that has a strong sexual attachment to it. It could be something very simple such as, let's see, such as maybe a pair of women's stockings, panties, or even women's shoes for example. Do you understand?"

I could hardly breathe with what she just revealed to me. As if she was reading my mind. I meekly answered with a soft, "Yes, yes I truly understand."

She smiled, "Good, perfect, somehow I thought you would!"

"So, you would like to buy stocking for yourself, correct? Is your fetish my dear, a fetish for nylon stockings? Yes?"

I felt my heart pound in my chest, I looked down in shame. But something about her voice, her manner, her presence, her hand still on mine calmed me. Looking back up to her green eyes I could only nod yes and not speak.

Then somehow, I softly said, "Yes, I just can't explain it, my whole life, the sight and feel of them, well you know?"

Then realizing what I had just revealed, quickly I added, "Please you must understand, I'm not gay or anything I'm not like that at all, in fact all I can think about is women wearing stockings and high heels. All I can dream about when I wear them is also being with women as they also wear stockings and very high heels."

I felt myself rambling on, not making any sense. I was so embarrassed about what I had just continued to reveal, I still felt sick to my stomach.

I started to apologize, "I'm sorry, just that I have never spoken to anyone about my deeply hidden secret."

With a now firmer grip on my hands, she continued with, "Ah, very understandable my dear, I understand more than you know. I can also share a little secret with you as you just told me yours, I have been in business for many years, I have had men come into my shop buying lingerie just for themselves often; actually, they are a big part of my clientele.

"Let's say, besides my expertise in woman's foundations, I also specialize in many forms in the art of fetish play. It's a lifestyle that some may not understand but those of us with deep understandings of fetish and play welcome and embrace it. But I must say you are the youngest to have ever walked into my shop with such interest. I have been involved in this art for many years; I can tell just by looking into your eyes your fetish for stockings is a very deep one. Now, take a deep breath and share with me your favorite style and color of stockings, seamless or seamed stockings?"

Still very meekly I answered, "Black, just like you're wearing, and I

love

the big dark reinforced heel and toe stockings best, seamless I guess, the ones like my mother and aunt wear, but love they are also very sheer. I've only seen my grandmother wear stockings with the seams in them, but they looked thick not as sheer, almost heavy, and I didn't like the way they looked and felt on me.

She then stepped back and lifted the hem up of her tight skirt, I could hear the swish of the fabric rasp against her nylons as she lifted it even higher, "Do you like the ones I'm wearing? These are full-fashioned seamed stockings, but not at all

thick

as you say, they are also

very

ultra sheer of only15 denier."

She lifted the hem even higher as the tops of her stocking welts started to appear. Her legs were oh, so long, curvy, and stunning in those stockings. She turned in a full circle, then stopping with her back to me looking over her shoulder at me, "Do you like my seams and these stockings? They are my favorite style!"

The dark seams of her stockings ran perfectly straight up the back of her ankles, and well-shaped calves. My eyes widened as they approached the sight of her upper thighs and up into the stocking welts. Her stockings were held up so perfectly and smoothly. I stammered weakly and said, "Those are the most beautiful stockings I have ever seen; they look so smooth and silky, and if I may say, your legs are so beautiful!"

After asking me my shoe size and guessing my height perfectly, she turned back to the wall of stocking boxes. She slid the ladder with the rollers on top closer to her and climbed halfway up, my eyes focused on her heels and back of her nylon encased long legs. She reached slightly higher. I saw once again the small peek of her stocking tops come into view for a moment and I sighed deeply. All too quickly, the view of her legs ended as she selected a few boxes and descended the ladder; she placed several boxes on the counter and proceeded to opened one up.

She pulled back the thin white delicate paper the nylons were encased in. She slowly unfolded and pulled out a pair of jet-black glossy nylons. Her hands managed them with gentle perfection as she slid them so easily through her fingers. Then she said, "Feel these, they are the same as I'm wearing, full-fashioned, ultra sheer, with seams and 'keyhole' in the welts: she educated me on the manufacturing of authentic seamed 100% flat knit nylon stockings from the hosiery mills and what the unique

"keyhole"

at the top stocking welts were made for and why. "I have them in extra-long too! Go ahead, touch them, feel them, David!"

My hands were shaking as I reached and felt the delicate sheer nylon; I slipped the glossy sheer fabric between my fingers and felt them slide between my fingers so smoothly.

She smiled and said in a low voice, "Just wait till you feel them on me dear!" She added, "Do you have a proper garter belt yet?"

"Well not really, just my mother's I've acquired when she threw one out, just five of the six garters still work," I stopped at that point feeling still embarrassed and shy telling this beautiful woman I wear my mother's lingerie. She giggled and quickly added, "No that's ok, dear, I understand, we can fix all of that!"