Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
I have a serious thing for pantyhose. Not just an ‘Oh, these look nice with my skirt’ kind of thing. More like ‘If I could wallpaper my apartment with nude sheers, I absolutely would’ kind of thing. It’s an obsession, a fixation, a silky, glorious addiction. It started innocently enough. I had a preference for smooth legs under dresses. But then it escalated.
Now, the mere sight of a freshly opened packet of control tops sends a little shiver down my spine. The satisfying rustle as I pull them up, the way they hug every curve, the subtle sheen catching the light…it’s pure, unadulterated joy. I have an entire chest of drawers dedicated to my collection. Fishnets, opaques, sheers, shinies, matte, reinforced toe, open toe…you name it, I’ve got it, probably in three different colors.
Pantyhose
The real challenge comes with social events that defy all logic for hosiery. Because I always find myself wearing pantyhose, even when it’s deemed inconvenient. Even when I probably shouldn’t.
Take last summer, for instance. My friend Maya hosted a backyard barbecue. It was pushing 90 degrees, humid enough to sweat within 2 minutes of standing outside. Everyone else was rocking shorts, sundresses, flip-flops…the usual hot weather attire. Me, though? I showed up in a light linen dress, carefully selected to obscure the fact that beneath it, I was encased in shiny nude support pantyhose. My reasoning? “They just complete the outfit! And think of the smooth lines!”
I spent the entire afternoon trying to appear cool and nonchalant while internally battling beads of sweat making their way down my calves. Small talk felt like a marathon. “So, Amber, how are you handling this heat?” Maya asked, fanning herself with a paper plate.
“Oh, just peachy!” I chirped, a little too loudly. “You know, the breeze is actually quite nice over here!” Internally, I was screaming. What I wanted to say was “The breeze is not penetrating my nylon fortress, Maya! I am a walking, talking human sauna!” But, alas, I said no such thing. It was my own choice, after all.
I braved the sweatiness for a few more hours before heading home. As soon as I got in the front door of my apartment, I peeled that dress right off of my body. I stood in the mirror, admiring my sexy pantyhose, allowing my hand to slip inside, finding its way through the silky fabric to find my dripping wet pussy.
Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404
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