The Pantyhose Diaries

If you’ve been here long enough then you may already know pantyhose is definitely a passion but not the so-called fetish it always use to be. Don’t get me wrong, I love and wear them as always (like right now even) and they never lost their erotic appeal, not for a second. Way back, however, there was a time where they were the only focus… slip some on, have a quick wank and go on with my day. Or I’d just wear them under my jeans and take notice of that swishy noise and silky feel as I’m walking in public. Alright, I still do that from time to time.

What I’m getting at is that the days of the panty(hose)-boy with the “fetish” are long over in favor of doing this whole look like a girl thing. It’s funny, too, that I never understood how this possible evolution could even happen. I even quite stupidly thought that eventually I would grow out of that kink. Maybe I would just have to take a few minutes to get away from the family, sneak out in the woods, slip on my Wolford tights and come on a pine tree every now and then.

Let’s just say it didn’t quite work out that way.

Not that I’m unhappy being a (way) more girly me. I just never thought it would come to this, no pun intended. Over the years, I’ve read many crossdressing blogs and also have met others online that started with the typical pantyhose fetish which eventually led to full on transformation and, in some cases, changing gender completely (aka Caitlyn and, yes, she did have a pantyhose fetish in her past). What was really strange to me, however, was that it seemed like in many cases the whole thrill we seek by wearing pantyhose in the first place seems to have disappeared in the process.

I mean once you are hooked, how could you want to leave your love of pantyhose?

Well, in an ironic turn of events, I have even found myself not really wanting to go back to the days getting my jollies with only a pair of tights, maybe a bra if I have time, then finish it off with a few tugs and clean up the mess after. Not to mention, always having that feeling of guilt and making a promise to myself I would never do this again as if the high-and-mighty upstairs were looking down on me. I’ll gladly look back to that time of my life as my young compulsive days.

So I guess that means I totally get it now. I love my pantyhose and I have to say that it is still the key component of my… condition? Anyway, I also love to pair them with a lovely bodysuit, maybe a skirt and some heels of course. Then I finish that off with some makeup, one of my many wigs and then a splash of perfume to round it off. Pantyhose is present, but along with all the other feminine bits and pieces that I now adore. I like to call it accessorizing my pantyhosed legs if you will.

Then there is that feeling all dolled up and strutting the living room in those tall heels and end up looking in the mirror completely transformed and admiring what you see. I don’t mean in a narcissistic way either but it is kind of a shock and then an intense feeling of “wow, I am a woman,” that I can physically feel throughout my body as a sort of comforting warmth. To say it feels good would be a gross understatement. To say it is non-sexual would be a lie, too. There is definitely an arousal but not so fetishy if you get me.

It also in no way compares to the instant gratification of the run-of-the-mill pantyhose fetish. That is not to say it does not turn me on. I actually feel pretty horny being fully en femme but it is just not the same as from a simple garment, as silky and shiny as it may be. No, I mean as me the woman. And I want to be taken as a woman, have sex as the woman. So there is also something of an empowerment there which… is hard to explain. What could that be used for… seducing spies and trading nuclear secrets? No, wait, find that sugar daddy!

Anyway, I’m clearly at a point where I’ve gone from the weird guy with the pantyhose thing to someone who can wear and, should I dare say, maybe even look like an actual woman in them. It is still hard for me to believe this kind of progress has taken place in my life but here I am today enjoying my womaness as I smell that Chanel perfume lingering around on the wrists that type out these words.

Time for seducing spies now I suppose.