The Case for Pantyhose

Which are sexier

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like most men, my favorite item of lingerie on a woman was always a pair of stockings with a garter belt. I preferred a black simple garter belt and with tan or black sheer stockings, classic 1940's and 50's Pin Up, Monroe, Mansfield, Bardot. That was when there still was a very hard definition of what it was to be a man or a woman, no sweat pants, shorts, t shirts, sneakers. Men wore suits, ties, top coats and hats and oxfords or brogues, boxer shorts, socks held up by suspenders . Women wore blouses, pencil skirt, jacket or cardigan, pearls and high heels, french or Kami knickers, corset, garter belt and nylons. There was nothing in between.

By the time the 1960's arrived America had gone sports casual crazy, polo shirts, cargo shorts, tee shirts, mini dresses and mini skirts. It was obvious that now women could no longer wear garter belt and stockings without showing the tops of their stockings, however they still wanted their legs to have that glow about them that stockings gave. And with the advent of synthetic materials it was possible to create an all in one light weight material that was barely noticeable. But because it was the sixties and synthetics, they could now be made in any color in the spectrum and any thickness which is measured in Denier. The sheerest being around 10 denier and the opaque being anything from 50 to 100 denier.

But its the 5-10 denier weight that interests me, the barely there look. The seam which is the line that separates the ass cheeks. There is something about that which sets off a chemical reaction in me, the lightness of fabric makes it the definition of femininity. The thought of a beautiful ass compacted into pantyhose casing especially if worn with no underwear, which is the final unbelievable temptation. Those pubic hairs all flatten under the stretchiness of the fabric. But the thing that turned me from stockings to pantyhose, was because of an old girlfriend, who asked me to lick her pussy thru the fabric, which was an incredible experience, the wetness soaking into the fabric very delicately. The smell of pussy and synthetic fabric was intoxicating, your tongue trying the desperately rescue that little rosebud trapped underneath, until you primal instincts take over and you find yourself ripping at the fabric to get to that nectar, even the sound of the tear and how it tears are all part of this most tactile of journeys to a woman's pussy. Like a knight in shining armor rescuing the maiden from the tower.

It was raw and primal and horny as fuck all because of sheer pantyhose.


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