Sunday, April 12, 2020
A Few New Ones
I had a chance to slip a pair of my Wolfords the other day. They really are great pantyhose.
Monday, April 6, 2020
Friday, April 3, 2020
Recent Pictures
Someone posted a comment and stated that it has been a while since I posted any leotard or swimsuit pictures. Well, because of this virus crap ravaging the world, I found myself home alone today. I pulled out a couple of bodysuits that I hadn't worn for quite a while.
So, here are two pictures that were taken earlier today and , yes, I am doing my best to hold my gut in to make myself look better than I actually do. At times I can still fake it, but I do need to tighten up the old mid section.
The last two pictures where I'm wearing the black leotard are from the archives. They're several years old.
So, here are two pictures that were taken earlier today and , yes, I am doing my best to hold my gut in to make myself look better than I actually do. At times I can still fake it, but I do need to tighten up the old mid section.
The last two pictures where I'm wearing the black leotard are from the archives. They're several years old.
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
Leotards & Bras
The following story happened sometime in 2004 or 2005. I think. It's hard to pinpoint exactly when. The exact date isn't really important. When it happened we had been together for close to ten years. What's important is the fact that it's completely true and plays somewhat in to what's been going on with me recently.
*******************************
The first several years we we together we did what many couples do. We went out to bars and saw our favorite local bands, had drinks, played pool and so on. But after a while, couples tend to stop doing that.
Going out and having some beers turns into staying home on the weekends and having some beers and watching movies or our favorites shows on the DVR. You know the old song, "Everybody's working for the weekend" , except when you get a little older the weekends tend to be spent at home. I'm not saying that we don't go out to dinner and a movie every so often, but we tend to have drinks at home these days. It's safer and certainly cheaper.
The reason I decided to tell her that I had a pantyhose fetish is because I was sexually frustrated. Our relationship was going strong except for sex. We'd already been living together for a few years and I wanted more. I remember exactly when I told her. April 2, 2001.
Sometime in 2004 I started wearing panties openly.
It was sometime within the next year or so (after I started wearing panties) when she told me that she had found my bag with my high heels, leotards and bras. I was stunned and embarrassed. She didn't come down too hard and me, thankfully, but she wasn't exactly thrilled either.
In my stash I actually had a couple of her old bras that she had thrown away and I had taken out of the trash and kept. She ended up taking those back.
The bottom line is that she found out that I had high heels, leotards and bras. Honestly she didn't make a big deal out of it and it wasn't mentioned again. In my own mind, I had gotten away with something.
Now, at this stage of our relationship I was wearing panties in front of her and I had worn pantyhose, but she didn't really like seeing me in pantyhose. My big thrill at this point was wearing them and hoping that she wouldn't notice.
I decided to see if I could get away with wearing a leotard without her noticing. I'm always up on the weekends before her. So, one Saturday I decided to wear a leotard under a tee shirt. That's all I wore. A tee shirt over a leotard.
We were standing in the kitchen making coffee and I pulled her to me and gave her a hug. She wrapped her arms around me. She ran her hands up my back and onto my shoulders. One of her hands stopped on my shoulder and then suddenly and with a slight gasp, she pulled the strap up through my shirt and popped it on my shoulder. She didn't say anything, just a grunt. She didn't do it in a playful way at all. I was instantly shocked and embarrassed. As I said, it was done somewhat angrily and without any hint of playfulness at all.
Without a word I walked out of the kitchen and down the hall toward our bedroom where I quickly stripped off my shirt and then the leotard. I put my shirt back on and embarrassingly walked back into the room, fixed my coffee and didn't say a word. Neither did she.
Now back to the present day:
On the weekends we generally have some beers or mixed drinks and watch movies or shows on the DVR. She always goes to bed before I do. I must mention that she really isn't a touchy-feely type of person. She's not big into passionate hugs or long embraces. But, several months ago I noticed something. I noticed that on the weekends that before she went to bed, she would give me a hug and a kiss, but, she would run her hand along my shoulder and across my back, almost groping it.
This was unusual for her. This only happens on the weekends after shes been drinking. I started paying attention to her doing it and I believe I figured out what she's been doing.
Basically, I think she's been frisking me to see if I'm wearing a bra! I know that might sound crazy, but I truly believe that.
With that in mind and coupled with the fact that our sex life is practically non existent, I decided to "take it up a notch".
I decided to let her catch me. In a manner of speaking.
As I said, she goes to bed before I do every Friday and Saturday night. I usually take the opportunity to play dress up and on occasion to take some pictures. It's my alone time. Of course I have a few more beers before it's time call it a night. Then, a lot of times I'll just sleep on the couch. It's not a big deal.
Every Saturday and Sunday morning she gets up briefly and gets a drink of water and walks through the room, gets her shoes and goes out to get the paper. Then she crawls back into the bed. Then a little later, I get up.
How did I decide to "let her catch me"? I decided to leave some things out for her to see.
I guess it's a way of acting out and looking for some attention. Mostly, it's sexually frustration.
The photo below shows exactly what my wife walked in and saw on a Saturday morning back in January.
One pair of shoes is hers. The other pair is mine. Can you guess which is which?
The reason I decided to tell her that I had a pantyhose fetish is because I was sexually frustrated. Our relationship was going strong except for sex. We'd already been living together for a few years and I wanted more. I remember exactly when I told her. April 2, 2001.
Sometime in 2004 I started wearing panties openly.
It was sometime within the next year or so (after I started wearing panties) when she told me that she had found my bag with my high heels, leotards and bras. I was stunned and embarrassed. She didn't come down too hard and me, thankfully, but she wasn't exactly thrilled either.
In my stash I actually had a couple of her old bras that she had thrown away and I had taken out of the trash and kept. She ended up taking those back.
The bottom line is that she found out that I had high heels, leotards and bras. Honestly she didn't make a big deal out of it and it wasn't mentioned again. In my own mind, I had gotten away with something.
Now, at this stage of our relationship I was wearing panties in front of her and I had worn pantyhose, but she didn't really like seeing me in pantyhose. My big thrill at this point was wearing them and hoping that she wouldn't notice.
I decided to see if I could get away with wearing a leotard without her noticing. I'm always up on the weekends before her. So, one Saturday I decided to wear a leotard under a tee shirt. That's all I wore. A tee shirt over a leotard.
We were standing in the kitchen making coffee and I pulled her to me and gave her a hug. She wrapped her arms around me. She ran her hands up my back and onto my shoulders. One of her hands stopped on my shoulder and then suddenly and with a slight gasp, she pulled the strap up through my shirt and popped it on my shoulder. She didn't say anything, just a grunt. She didn't do it in a playful way at all. I was instantly shocked and embarrassed. As I said, it was done somewhat angrily and without any hint of playfulness at all.
Without a word I walked out of the kitchen and down the hall toward our bedroom where I quickly stripped off my shirt and then the leotard. I put my shirt back on and embarrassingly walked back into the room, fixed my coffee and didn't say a word. Neither did she.
Now back to the present day:
On the weekends we generally have some beers or mixed drinks and watch movies or shows on the DVR. She always goes to bed before I do. I must mention that she really isn't a touchy-feely type of person. She's not big into passionate hugs or long embraces. But, several months ago I noticed something. I noticed that on the weekends that before she went to bed, she would give me a hug and a kiss, but, she would run her hand along my shoulder and across my back, almost groping it.
This was unusual for her. This only happens on the weekends after shes been drinking. I started paying attention to her doing it and I believe I figured out what she's been doing.
Basically, I think she's been frisking me to see if I'm wearing a bra! I know that might sound crazy, but I truly believe that.
With that in mind and coupled with the fact that our sex life is practically non existent, I decided to "take it up a notch".
I decided to let her catch me. In a manner of speaking.
As I said, she goes to bed before I do every Friday and Saturday night. I usually take the opportunity to play dress up and on occasion to take some pictures. It's my alone time. Of course I have a few more beers before it's time call it a night. Then, a lot of times I'll just sleep on the couch. It's not a big deal.
Every Saturday and Sunday morning she gets up briefly and gets a drink of water and walks through the room, gets her shoes and goes out to get the paper. Then she crawls back into the bed. Then a little later, I get up.
How did I decide to "let her catch me"? I decided to leave some things out for her to see.
I guess it's a way of acting out and looking for some attention. Mostly, it's sexually frustration.
The photo below shows exactly what my wife walked in and saw on a Saturday morning back in January.
One pair of shoes is hers. The other pair is mine. Can you guess which is which?
This was the scene as I left it when I went to sleep. When I awoke, her shoes were not there. Only my pumps remained. There is absolutely no way that she didn't see them.
Do you know what she said about it? Absolutely nothing. Never mentioned it.
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