Well well, the pantypost still goes on. After my little piece about having my gusset gobbled by pretty Polly one January afternoon, so many 15 denier devotees have been in touch. By the way the pic sadly isn't me but I like to dream that it is the view Polly had of me.
Several writers suggested getting into deep discussions on the subject in Brighton hotel rooms – naughty boys! But a couple actually wrote interesting emails about their love of lycra and where it had taken them – kinky!
That time with Polly was a bit of a surprise for me I must confess. Like just about every woman I’ve always had a bit of a thing about knickers and their sexual effect. I think it started when I showed my Ladybird briefs to Martin Parsons. I was six then but I’ve been flashing them, one way or another, ever since.
I’ve always loved sexy lingerie and have recently added latex to my repertoire. But, tights?
Like most women, I sniff for freshness than put on and eventually take off my tights daily without thinking about their sexual possibilities. It's a bit like men suddenly finding out that women are madly turned on by grey M&S socks.
But now I completely understand their attraction and so, I find, does most of the world, just put the word ‘pantyhose’ into Google and see how many sites there are.
But don’t do it yet because I want you to read my two correspondents.
One is a 23-year old woman who was as surprised as I was and another is from a man who’s been into tights (literally) for many years and now combines them with World War 2 gasmasks for total sexual pleasure – imagine it, Mum’s Aristocs meets Dad’s Army?
But, ladies first…
I love reading your blog and your stories because you’re so sexy and so brilliantly funny at the same time (I left that bit in because I’m a sad praise addict but now for the serious bit)
Like you I never associated tights with sex, in my sexual relations with either men or women. I suppose I’m rather conservative in these matters but that’s the way I am.
So when I had a drink with X after we’d been working in the same office for nine months I thought it was just a normal start to a relationship. She made it very clear to me that she found me attractive and she complimented me on my office clothes. I found this odd because they were nothing special. The office dress code is fairly formal so I was wearing a black suit and white blouse, as was she.
She then suggested a club nearby, now I knew this was gay, and that it had lesbian nights but I welcomed the freedom to explore our affair. The only thing was I didn’t feel that my boring office clothes were right for this but X was insistent.
Later, at the club, we sat in the dark amongst women who were getting very friendly, we kissed but I was surprised when without warning X put her hand up my skirt. Now men have tried this and I normally feel rather insulted but it was such a surprise that I did nothing. X’s hand started feeling around my thighs and then between my legs. She then whispered about her love of tights and how sexy I was in my black tights and that was the beginning.
I’m now a dedicated tight fanatic thanks to X. It started with just the two of us at X’s flat. Like you, we were both topless but our lower halves were covered by our sexy tights. It’s a wonderful sensation isn’t it Sadie. I just adore my bum being stroked and X licking me through my tights.
Later, I sucked and licked X. We both had amazing orgasms.
We did this for weeks and then X tore up a pair of tights and put one piece over my head. Initially I panicked but then when I realised I could breathe I found the restriction very sexy.
Then X suggested tying me up. I trusted her so she tied me and covered my face with tights. Then she made me suck her off through the material.
X would push her finger wrapped in the tights into my vagina and it felt really good. Then she pushed her tight wrapped finger up my bum and I was amazed how great it felt.
I now felt I couldn’t enjoy sex if tights weren’t involved. I even feel sexy at the office wearing my tights without knickers. Do you think this is strange Sadie?
X belongs to a Yahoo ‘pantyhose’ group and regularly contributes to the forum. She read of a ‘meet’ in a motel sort of place near Birmingham and suggested we go. It would have normally been the last thing I’d have even considered – but I said yes.
We all gathered in this large bedroom and there were about 4 couples, 6 women and 2 men. We each disappeared into the bathroom and came back naked but for tights. We were all shapes and sizes but some of the women were quite attractive.
One couple, a man and a woman, put some music on and then they lay on the bed and started to fondle each other. Maybe it’s because X and I had enjoyed several drinks in the hotel bar but I found it very arousing. The man was rubbing the woman between her legs and she was sucking on his cock that was prominent under his tights.
X started kissing me and feeling my bum and I kissed her nipples. Then I felt another hand on me and looked round. It was the other couple, and the man was stroking my thigh but his partner, a woman was looking on approvingly. I guessed that this was meant to be a group event. X manoeuvred me around so the man could get more intimate with me and X could get more intimate with the woman. In seconds, the man had his hand between my legs, X had one hand on my bum and the other between the woman’s legs and the woman was stroking my breasts.
As you might imagine Sadie this was very exciting and my crotch was soon very damp but I didn’t care because so was everyone elses. We swapped partners and stimulated each other for hours. At one point I had a woman sucking my nipples, another woman sucking my vagina and another woman tickling my bum with her tongue. We all got very stimulated but our tights stayed on because that was the sexy part really.
Eventually the two men and woman couples had sex through torn tights on the bed and in front of us. X then tore my tights at the crotch and brought me to orgasm with her finger and tongue. And, you know Sadie, I just
loved doing it with other people watching. A couple of months ago I would have been horrified at the thought. But now I can’t wait to go to another group meet.
Then, we got dressed, had a chat and left.
She then wrote some stuff about my blog but it was so flattering that I’m too modest to share it with you. I love the last bit however, I wonder after getting dressed what the group talked about? Being Brits it might have been about the weather or considering the afternoon whether Wolford tights rip better than Aristocs.
Now it’s the turn of a very nice guy with some interesting interests:
I’m very happy to tell you more about my ventures into BDSM. I’m a closet fetishist and know that my deep, furtive desires would horrify my long-term partner. Our relationship is great in all but the erotic realm, and I agonized for ages before taking the plunge to act out my urges. And now, telling you, it’s also quite cathartic to be able to spill the beans.
Who knows where such yearnings come from, but ever since I became aware of my sexuality, I was fascinated by dominant women. Generally, I’m a strong and assertive person, but wanted to be overwhelmed sexually. While I was a student, I found a couple of sympathetic girlfriends who came to share my bondage and domination kinks. These involved the liberal use of tights, worn conventionally (by both of us), as restraints and gags, and (this took a little persuasion at first) as masks.
The mask thing really caught my imagination, and stayed with me. One day, I saw a gas mask for sale in an Army Surplus shop and realized with a jolt of lust that it could be used as a prop in my preferred bedroom games. I especially liked the thought of my female partners concealing their faces behind a grotesque respirator before doing what they wanted with me. I tiptoed round the topic with a succession of girlfriends (even one of the stocking-mask wearers), but only met with disgusted rejection.
Now, to move on a few years and cut to the chase…I wanted to realize my erotic dream of being dommed by a gasmasked mistress. The first couple or so I tried reacted in a similar way, though not quite as shocked, as my former girlfriends when I mentioned my special needs. Then I rang X. She was a part-time lifestyle mistress who did sessions for pleasure and (as she put it) ‘pocket money’ and was totally unfazed by my unusual request.
Come the day, I found myself tapping timidly at the door of a purpose-built BDSM studio at the bottom of an extensive wooded suburban garden. Mistress X opened up and asked me in; she was a self-confident woman in her early thirties with an easy manner and a nice line in self-deprecating humour, and I took to her instantly. She had below-shoulder-length brown hair and her wide-hipped, hourglass figure was encased in a skintight mini dress in black latex. The front of the dress was open to show some cleavage, but I noticed that it could zip right up to a high neck. Her legs – o joy! – were encased in sheer tan tights. We chatted for a bit, and then I showed her the mask from my collection that I had brought along. It was a World War 2 ‘elephant trunk’ gas mask.
She loved the look of it, turned it over in her hands, and made appreciative noises. We agreed to play out a scenario where I was a burglar and she had caught me trying on her hosiery.
I was told to go into the main room of the studio, strip, and pull on a pair of her tights that she had laid out for me. After a couple of minutes of waiting, the door slowly opened and X. made her entrance. Or rather, it was a new version of the pretty, long-haired woman I had been speaking to earlier. She had done her hair up in a topknot before pulling a sheer stocking, tan to match her tights, over her head. Her dress was now zipped right up to the neck and she’d tucked the stocking under the collar. Across her chest, she’d strapped the canvas army bag containing my mask.
Head to toe, she was covered in nylon and rubber. Clutching a riding crop in a gloved hand, she advanced on me and brought her stockinged face close to mine. Her delicate features were now blurred and distorted by the tight nylon skin, which pulled the end of her nose and eyebrows up and flattened her lips. This sinister figure ordered me to kneel. Circling round me, V whacked me across the buttocks with the riding crop before turning her attention to my cock. “How pathetic” she hissed in my ear, “let’s see if we can make it bigger before the end of the session.” “But first,” she went on “if you like women’s tights so much, let’s see how you fancy being strangled and suffocated with them. Lie down!” I did as she commanded, and X straddled my chest, her rubber dress stretching taut across her thighs as she rested her weight on me. The bank-robber face leered down at me as she picked up a spare pair of hose, dragged them roughly over my head, and slowly tightened the legs around my neck. She knew what she was doing and released them in just enough time for the strangulation to be exciting but not downright scary. She repeated the game several times, all the while insulting me and yelling at me how she could easily kill me. Next came the suffocation; she kept the tights on my head but dragged a stretched surgical rubber glove over them. From inside my rubber prison, I watched the glove inflate as I gasped for air.
“I don’t think I look frightening enough” V suddenly announced as she released me from the glove. Opening the poppers of the army bag, she out eased the black, corrugated rubber hose and the face piece of the vintage gas mask. “This’ll scare the shit out of you if I put it on, won’t it? Or maybe you’ll just be turned on by it, you perv.” With this, she stretched the straps of the mask and, smiling wickedly at me, pulled it over her stockinged head. The effect was electric; this attractive young woman had instantly transformed herself into a nightmarish, insect-like apparition. Her voice was muffled and deep as she bent down to speak to me. “I wish I had some poison gas here. I’d asphyxiate you, you worm.”
We played a few more games, with V striding around still wearing the respirator, tying me up to a hanging beam, clamping my nipples, and whipping me. Eventually, I was made to kneel at her feet as she sat in a chair, massage her tights-clad legs up to just above the knee and stimulate myself to orgasm while looking at her gas masked face.
Well! All this makes me feel like the Country Mouse – very innocent. As I mentioned to my male correspondent I’ve had several lovers during my life for whom tights over the face would have been an improvement but I’ve never thought about it as a turn-on during fucking – just where have I been???
Are there any more lycropaths out there who would like to introduce my readers to new 15 denier delights? Well, get in touch.
Love & kisses (through tights) Sadie xxxxx