The Joy of Tights

As I sit here enjoying my little black dress, I feel like elaborating a bit on how important tights and stockings are to my feminine psyche.

The very first item of feminine clothing I ever wore was a pair of white tights, when I was a wee toddler. It affected me deeply. It was part of a costume for a Kindergarten class play, in which all the children dressed up as flowers. All the boys and girls had to wear white tights as part of the costume.

Already, we boys all knew how taboo this was, but we all did as we were told, and nobody complained. In my mind, they were so different from anything I'd ever worn, and only girls wore them. I liked them, and wanted to wear them to bed, but I wasn't allowed to. I had had my first taste of femininity, and I liked it, even though I had no idea what it implied.

Years later, as I hit puberty, I remembered my white tights. I found myself strangely excited by pretty women, and loved how they all wore tights, stockings, pantyhose. I eventually found the courage to borrow a pair of my mother's pantyhose, and it all went downhill from there. I'm now wearing satin panties, a fancy satin bra, black tights, a little black dress, and knee-high boots with 3-inch heels.

I'm still gaga for girls in tights. Sadly, my wife seldom wears any. There's something fabulously feminine about how they caress the gentle curves of a woman's legs. Their clinginess is like a second skin, and it's incredibly arousing to me to contemplate how feminine they are. They are also mainly worn with dresses and skirts, which makes them even more feminine. I love how smooth and soft they are to the touch.

When I wear stockings or tights, as I am now, I am embracing something uniquely feminine. There's no getting around it: only girls are supposed to wear tights and dresses. There's nothing more girlish. Yes, I love swimsuits and lingerie, too, but this is somehow more fundamental, more public. If I were a real girl, I'd wear tights or stockings almost all the time.