I was single and aged 26. I had been engaged for two years to a beautiful woman but the relationship had gone stale for each of us. We had lived together in a garden apartment for two years and she chose to move out and was staying with her parents until she could find a new place. I was sad as I missed her but felt relieved with the knowledge that the word "marriage" would not be a word that would involve a lengthy and ultimately sad discussion. She was ready for marriage and children and I was not.
Sexually we were not as compatible as I wanted. She was more of a traditionalist and the word fantasy never seemed to be in her vocabulary. She had the most perfect body on a female I ever saw. However she was like a Ferrari that had a lawnmower engine under its hood.
I have a fetish involving nylon stockings and or pantyhose. She thought my fetish was "perverted" and as a result I kept it under wraps. She had these long legs and when she would dress up for a dinner or other type of social engagement and wore pantyhose or sometimes a garter belt and stockings my hands were all over her and she would get annoyed. I never manhandled her. I am a passionate guy and would get excited when we would kiss. She was so beautiful. After a while I gave up. Sex became a duty. I felt like I was going to explode. After she left my life I would date on occasion but there was nothing serious going on. I was feeling my way around after being in an exclusive relationship.
As a young guy I had experimented with wearing nylon stockings and I also had experimented with wearing nylons while with a guy (my cousin). When my relationship ended with my girlfriend I went out and purchased at least a dozen pair of pantyhose all sheer to the waist in different colors. I also purchased two pair of pumps, one in red and one in black and two skirts. I had learned how to walk in three inch heels and how to sit and get up while wearing a skirt, heels and pantyhose. I would wear these items alone in my apartment and watch television sometimes watching a porn movie and then I would masturbate to a great orgasm. I never shared with anyone what I did in the confines of my apartment. There was a definite plus to being alone.
The apartment complex I lived in consisted of about forty buildings spread out over several acres. There was a mixture of singles and of families living there. There were laundry rooms situated at different locations.