I remember it as if it was yesterday. I was in 6th grade when I started to notice women in silky pantyhose. I had an English teacher who wore them everyday without exception. A counselor who did the same and quite a few peers who would adorn them a couple times a month for special band and choir dress up days. Every night I would close my eyes and think about those teachers and sometimes classmates in pantyhose. Wanting to reach out and touch them, feel the soft nylon on my hands, my face, my member. That is when my fetish was born, since then it has grown and swelled. I have worn them myself but don't do it often. However, I do regularly use a pair to assist me with self satisfaction. My ex and current wives were/are cool with it and often wear for me during play time. That is my fetish origin story, what is yours?

(02-18-2016 02:56 PM)ljb1980 Wrote:  I remember it as if it was yesterday. I was in 6th grade when I started to notice women in silky pantyhose. I had an English teacher who wore them everyday without exception. A counselor who did the same and quite a few peers who would adorn them a couple times a month for special band and choir dress up days. Every night I would close my eyes and think about those teachers and sometimes classmates in pantyhose. Wanting to reach out and touch them, feel the soft nylon on my hands, my face, my member. That is when my fetish was born, since then it has grown and swelled. I have worn them myself but don't do it often. However, I do regularly use a pair to assist me with self satisfaction. My ex and current wives were/are cool with it and often wear for me during play time. That is my fetish origin story, what is yours?

My fetish goes way back. Before I had a pantyhose fetish, I had a tights fetish. When my female peers switched from little girl tights to big girl pantyhose (7th grade), my fetish switched from tights fetish to pantyhose fetish.

My parents were friends with another couple who had three children. The youngest was a year and a half younger than me and female. Our families visited each other 2 or 3 times a year, so for 2 or 3 days out of the year, we were playmates. We got along just fine. She was always kind and patient with me.

When we were VERY young, we were playing together in the bedroom of her old house. I couldn’t have been more than 6; she couldn’t have been more than four and a half.

She was wearing a red top, red and black checked “play pants” (as we called them then) and what I THOUGHT were red knee-high socks. She looked at me and said:

Girl: You know, these go all the way up (meaning her hosiery)
Me: Oh…uh huh
Girl: You believe me, don’t you?
Me: Uh, yeah I believe you.

I don’t remember anything before this exchange of dialog, or anything after it; that’s how powerful it was. To my dying day, I will regret that I never asked her to “prove it”. Maybe she was wearing tights under those pants, maybe she wasn’t.

But this I know – from that day forward until the 7th grade, I was absolutely fascinated and obsessed with tights and girls wearing tights.

I knew that women were pantyhose and that girls wore tights. Pantyhose were always in the background, but tights dominated my thoughts in my younger days. I started keeping track of which girls wore pantyhose instead of tights back in the third grade. I used to walk to school with this pushy girl who was two grades ahead of me. She was the first girl that I had ever seen wearing pantyhose. At the time, I didn’t even realize that they made pantyhose for girls as young as fifth graders.

This tough girl from the wrong side of the tracks remained the sole pantyhose-wearing classmate, until I was in the fifth grade. A female classmate had switched to pantyhose that year. She seemed more mature and dangerous to me because of this. She was also the first girl in my grade to have an actual boyfriend.

A year later, in the sixth grade, I took note of the hosiery the other girls wore for the spring concert. I was sitting in a classroom with the other singers and instrumentalists, waiting for the concert to start. One girl was wearing a very pretty turquoise dress, with matching knee-high socks. I always felt sorry for any girl wearing socks, because they were not tights.

The girl in question was sitting quietly and smiling happily to herself, but I still felt bad for her anyway. Tights were so much dressier than socks, even socks that matched perfectly. To me, a girl who didn’t wear tights was a girl who was being deprived.

At the other end of the spectrum, four girls were wearing pantyhose. In fact, they were the only girls in the room wearing pantyhose. They were also wearing beautiful long gowns, and the combination of the mature dresses, combined with the big girl pantyhose made them look very sophisticated and grown-up.

In the seventh grade, almost every girl had switched to pantyhose. Only three girls kept wearing tights. By the eighth grade, all the tights were gone; always pantyhose from then on.

I love me some pantyhose. They are the sexiest article of clothing a woman can wear, period, the end. If I can’t see any women wearing pantyhose, I am happy when I see one or more wearing tights.