I Waited 17 Years To Wear My Girlfriend's Tights - Part 1

This next entry explains how and why I waited seventeen years to wear my first girlfriend’s opaque black tights, (in a manner of speaking) so powerful was the impression that they, and she, made on me. 

Like for so many of us, my feelings for tights run second only to the ones I have for my family.

Unless:

(a) You’re male (so you’re not conventionally allowed to wear them)

or

(b) a fellow tights fetishist (and like me, obsess about them every day)

or 

(c) unable or unwilling to simply wear tights as and when you like ...

then, you’ll probably consider it an overstatement for me to say that some clothing means nearly as much to me as my own family, but perhaps this story will go towards helping you understand my continual love of tights a little better. 

To Begin

All of this story is true, and as I like to say, it represents a ‘tissue of truths’.  Even though the memories of Katie, my first girlfriend wearing some tights in front of me for the first time are still very vivid in my mind's eye,  I have to concede that they’re not fresh recollections and there may be some details that have altered with age.  None the less, I am keen for you to know that this is as true a version of the events as I can remember, even if things are now a little hazy at the edges.

Writing these memories down made me feel very happy and excited again as the magic of the moment came back to me.  I hope you enjoy it too and post your comments in response.

The story is divided into two parts:

Part 1: Katie Puts On Her Tights

Part 2: I Finally Wear Katie's Tights

The first is set in 1992 when I was 20, and is about watching my girlfriend put on her tights in her bedroom, preparing to go out.  This was the first experience I’d ever had of seeing a girl wear and put them on them for real, back in the distant days before the Internet allowed teenage boys to watch sexy girls posing in nothing but tights on all day long. (That's certainly what I would have done had it been possible back then!)

In the late 1980s and early 1990s, the only way a young man could ever see any pictures of tights was by looking at the rows of boxes and packets in supermarkets and department stores, or by chancing upon a sexy advert in a magazine or a fashion catalogue. 

By the age of 15 I had a whole lockable briefcase under my bed crammed with cut out pictures, adverts and exciting photos if women in tights. Plus, most importantly, I also had three empty tights boxes (Pretty Polly, Tesco and Marks and Spencer), but how I came upon these wonders is worthy of a story for a blog entry later.

The second part of the story (to be posted later) is set in 2008. It’s about how I came to find and wear an identical pair of tights to the ones that had excited and tormented me so much all those years before.

Part 1: Katie Puts On Her Tights

I met Katie, my first serious girlfriend and lost my virginity to her when I was 20.  We went out together for four years and she was absolutely wonderful: Very attractive, funny, sexy and perfectly feminine without being too precious and soppy.  She was the first woman I’d ever seen putting on and wearing tights for real, and so you’ll understand why she holds such a special place in my memory.

*****

I can still see her now, in her student room in 1992.  It’s our first weekend together and I’ve been invited to stay with her – she lives in a student house in another city and I’ve made the trip down to see her.  We’d met just a week before in my local pub and we’d been out on two wonderful first dates together straight after.  Katie is standing over by her bedroom window, picking a few things up, and now she’s by her dressing table making the last adjustments to her make-up in the mirror. I’m lying on the single bed in her room, open mouthed at the sight of her.

She’s wearing tight, silky, high waisted black knickers that cover quite a lot of her bottom and tummy and a white t-shirt, having just come in from the bathroom in a state of half-undress.  It’s early on Saturday evening and we’re preparing to go out. There’s been no nakedness between us yet, and so suddenly seeing her in her panties is a very big deal for me.  She clearly trusts me enough to be partially unclothed and feel safe with me.

I’ve fallen in love already.  My eyes are stuck to her, and I get an incredible thrill watching a girl get dressed for the first time.  It’s exciting to know that Katie’s doing what she normally does on a Saturday night – just getting dressed up for a night out.  I’m getting the chance to watch this beautiful girl get dressed and I’m five feet away from her.  I’ve dreamed about moments like this since I was a young boy. 

Katie wearing some tights that evening comes as another incredible surprise. She had worn a long skirt that afternoon with bare legs, and I was thrilled to hear her say that she knew boys preferred skirts to trousers - and so she had deliberately worn one today to impress me.  I'd told her that she looked wonderful, and I did prefer a girl in a skirt to trousers - especially one as gorgeous as her.

It was a bolt from the blue however to see her wear tights that very evening as I just hadn't dared to think that this gorgeous girl who'd I just fallen for might be a Tights Wearer too.

*****

When I was growing up I naively believed that all girls liked tights as much as I did.  I had no sisters to overhear complaining (Do I have to wear them?) or praising them (Please can I wear the green ones today?), and my mother never mentioned 'girlie things' to me as I was a boy.  So, I genuinely thought that women wore them with the same sense of reverence that I would, if I were ever to have the chance.  I knew for certain that I'd wear them all the time if I was female, and so I assumed that girls would be the same.

The 'Santa Claus' moment hit me when I was about 12 or 13 in a lesson at school.  I remember overhearing a girl called Monica behind me talking to her friend about her plans for the weekend.  My heart skipped a beat when I heard her say:

"...and at the wedding I've got to wear tights. I hate wearing tights!" 

I had foolishly imagined that girls only wore trousers because they had to, and they would naturally wear tights out of choice every day.  Thus, in a rather belated way, I came to appreciate that not all girls wore tights out of choice or enjoyment. Some wore them because they were a compulsory part of school uniform, or that they were a necessary part of wearing a dress or a skirt.  Girls would, rather crudely from that point in my teenage and younger years be seen by me as either Tights Wearers or Tights Phobics.

Although I was much less immature in my understanding at age 20, I was about to discover, very suddenly and unexpectedly that Katie was a tights wearer, and in fact a very enthusiastic one too.  Without any encouragement from me I was able to enjoy her wearing tights (always opaques, nearly always black) nearly every day during our time together.  I was such a lucky young man!

*****

Katie continues to get dressed. I watch as she reaches for something in her drawer. She opens it and takes something black out.  She’s four feet away now, looking right at me, smiling, unfolding something in her hands. 

Oh my God – please let it be true, she’s going to put on some tights.

My young self having waited years for this moment doesn’t know quite how to react.  I’ve waited and fantasised about a moment like this and now it’s coming true, right in front of my face.  She points her right toe and moves her hands down to meet it.  The black ball of nylon is stretched open, ready to be wrapped around her.  She adjusts the toe fitting and then the tights start to go on.

It is some opaque tights! She’s going to put them on!

I could explode with gratitude before half of her leg is covered.  She wobbles slightly, adjusting her balance as pulls the right leg of the tights all the way up to her thigh.  The thick, black panty at the top makes a dark ring around the top of her thigh for the first time.

Oh my God.  Oh my God.  Thank you!  Thank you!

This is before the Internet and the unlimited access to images of tights that exist today.  My glimpse into the world of hosiery has been tiny.  But there, just like in every photo on the packaging of tights I’ve spent hours looking at; like every magazine photo or advert and like every tiny glimpse in a TV show or film I’ve seen of a lady in tights - her knickers wrapped tightly by the tights’ darker top section – there, right in front of me stands a girl about to make that vision a reality.

Katie repeats the step with her left leg, and I notice how she balances on her right as she pulls the second leg up. The panty part reaches her upper thigh and she stops.  Then, she pauses for a second before bending her knees and using both hands to grasp and pull the tights up onto her upper thighs so that the fit is snug.  She wriggles slightly and then makes the final adjustments.

Her two hands slide the panty up over her tummy, so that I see the central seam, a little black line stretch over the middle of her knickers. 

They’re really dark and shiny!  I can see the sheen of the Lycra mixed in with the taught nylon - a silvery shadow outlined all the way down the smooth blackness coating her legs.  They must be 60, or 70 denier my expert eye tells me, breathlessly.  I am delirious – my pounding heart makes my face feel red and heated. 

The tights get pulled up again – Katie bending her knees for a second time, making sure that the thick opaques fit tightly between her legs. I watch the tiny space between the gusset and her panties disappear in this final, upward movement. Then, she stands upright, pulling the waistband up over the top of her underwear.

And there she is, smiling at me, dressed in tights and t-shirt. She notices that I’m staring at her, but rather than feel exposed and act coyly, she smiles with her hands on her hips and asks:

“You ok?”

“Yeah!” I reply enthusiastically, my own face revealing a huge smile. There is no tension at all between us as she dresses; this is just the best moment of my life.

I wonder to myself, did she put those on knowing that it would turn me on? Did she realise that such a feminine and intimate thing would make most men stare?  Or was she simply putting on her tights in the way she would normally do, not really realising the impression it would have on the young man who was so closely watching her? 

I’d like to think it was to catch my attention and it certainly worked.  I looked at her more intently than ever - her fingers stretched out across the black nylon covering her hips, and I felt the most astonishing rush of emotions: Lust and a passionate inner longing colliding in my head.

My heart cried out that I wanted her: I wanted to possess and hold her, feel her shiny black legs, her smooth black arse with her black panties wrapped tightly inside.

I so desperately want to smooth my hand over her flat little front - that lovely, lovely little rounded black tummy broken only by the central seam of the tights, running up from between her legs to the hem of her t-shirt where it disappears out of sight.  Every fibre of my being wants her for myself.  But at the same time – the desperate, strange and painful longing takes hold. 

If only I could wear those tights, exude the same feminine glamour and enjoy that tactile sexiness.  Why, why can’t I look like her and wear them too – I’d give anything to be her now, wearing her black tights and t shirt getting ready to go out. 

Katie reaches over and picks her skirt up from a chair. In doing so, her legs move together and she bends over slightly, making her t-shirt rise up - I can see the whole of her bottom in her panties and opaques.  The sight of her black underwear in the lovely, clingy top of the tights is almost too much to take.

I look at the boundary between the panty and the legs, the subtle change in shade at the top of her thighs as the tougher nylon weave at the top gives way to the smoother texture for the legs. I really do feel as though my dreams have come true.

A second later, a colourful cotton skirt is at her feet and then up around her waist, and she moves it around her so that a little split sits exactly in the centre at the back. The skirt stretches allowing Katie to move a little more freely, and allow the lucky onlooker to see a few extra centimetres of her thighs at her back, with every stride she makes. 

Just how amazing and sexy is that by itself?

As quickly as she has done this, she is gone to get her shoes from downstairs with a promise that she’ll be back in a second. 

It only takes me that second to find what I’m looking for.  There, on the top of her chest of drawers is a cardboard wrapper.

It’s white, and on the front is a photo of a woman in a tight yellow skirt, wearing thick black tights.  It’s the cardboard packaging and wrapper of those tights – they’re brand new and this is the first time Katie has worn them. (For me!)

They’re opaque ones from Marks and Spencer (a British store renown for selling very popular and good quality womens’ underwear, amongst many other things – take a look at their website if you’re from outside the UK and you’ll see what I mean) and I can’t help but pick it up and look longingly at the packaging.  I can’t take the wrapper now, but over the course of the weekend it leaves Katie’s bedroom waste bin and ends up hidden in the bottom of my weekend bag where I will keep it for many years.

*****

In 1999, seven years later and many miles away, another female hand will touch the packet again. After finding it in a semi-crumpled state in the corner of our bedroom, (it had fallen out of my secret bag of girlie stuff by mistake a few days before) my wife will pick it up Katie’s tights packet and put it down the communal garbage chute of our apartment block - destroying it forever. She’s mistaken it for her own rubbish, thank goodness, and not realised its significance.

My wife buys a lot of black opaques and frequently gets them from M&S, and so the packet, even thought it's dated in its appearance doesn't stand out and look conspicuous.  At least, if she’s surprised by it my wife doesn’t show it at all and she acts completely naturally.  I'm very lucky - this could have been a big problem for many men in that situation.

What is this doing here? Who did these belong to, have you had another woman in here?

This doesn’t happen, my wife just puts them down the chute with some other stuff from the floor.  As I watch from the other corner of the room, unable to do anything except spectate, I realise, sadly, that the final physical link I have to that incredible moment has disappeared for good.

I'm not upset about Katie because I’m now with the love of my life, but I'm upset to be leaving that special moment and those special tights behind.

And that was that, or so I thought. I didn't know back then in 1999, that something called Ebay was just about to come along and change things for me once again.