My Summer in Pantyhose
by Jeremy Chandler
It was the last day of school--8th grade that is—and when I arrived home at a quarter-to-three I wanted to celebrate. My sister Julie, who was two years older, was staying overnight with a friend. My mother wouldn't be home from work until at least six and my father, whom I only vaguely remembered, had deserted us years ago to pursue whatever he was pursuing.
My love of pantyhose began when I was eleven, when I first tried on my mother's hose. The sensation of my legs and lower body encased in the smooth, silky fabric aroused something new. I fell in love with the snug feel of the pantyhose and the swish-swish sound that my legs produced as I sashayed about the house. My mother and sister were out for a couple hours that day and I spent the entire time trying on different pairs. My sister and I had played dress-up before, but I had never ventured hose or tights or dressed in women's clothes when I was alone. I still don't know what drove me to try on my mother's pantyhose that day, but that event has proven one of the most important watersheds in my life. From that day forward I indulged in the joys of wearing pantyhose at every opportunity and fortunately there were many. My sister Julie was involved in a plethora of school activities and my mother wore skirts and hose to work everyday, providing me with a large selection from which to choose.
On the early summer day in question, I proceeded immediately to my room after arriving home from school. After removing all my clothes, I pulled on an over-sized red t-shirt, then entered my mother's room and snatched a pair of black, sheer-to-waist Leggs sheer energy hose from her top dresser drawer. Back in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed and carefully slid my mother's hose up my legs, alternating from one leg to the other until my lower body from toe to waist was comfortably encased in nylon. I had become quite proficient at putting on hose over the past few years, and the sensation of silky nylon sliding across my skin never failed to excite me. I stood up to admire my legs encased in the black shimmering fabric, turning and twisting to admire them from every angle. My t-shirt fell past my hips to mid-thigh, such that one could almost say I was wearing a dress, which likely explains why I often chose that particular t-shirt to wear when I was wearing hose. Thinking I had three hours of uninterrupted pantyhose bliss ahead of me, I headed downstairs to the family room to lay on the couch and watch TV for awhile.
Disaster struck shortly after four. My mother normally parked in the garage and entered the house through the back door adjoining the kitchen and garage. The family room in which I was lounging on the couch in my pretty pantyhose was next to the kitchen, while my room was upstairs at the opposite end of the house. I would hear her parking the car in the garage long before she entered the house, so I never worried much about being caught.
When I heard my mother's heels clacking against the hardwood floor in the entry hall, my first impulse was to make a run for it, but there she was, already entering the family room. She must have come in the front door.
"Hello," she said, stopping just inside the family room. "Have a good last day of school?"
"It was okay." I was struggling to stop my voice quivering. My nylon clad legs were concealed by the back of the couch, so as long as I stayed on the couch and she didn't advance very far into the room, I would be okay.
"I thought since your sister is away for the evening you and I might go out for pizza."
"That sounds good." I tried to stay focused on the television, hoping she would think I was bored with the conversation and go away. I was so frightened though that I couldn't follow the program at all.
"You don't seem very enthused. Are you feeling okay?"
I heard her steps as she approached the couch. "I'm fine mom. Really."
Despite my assurances, my mother continued toward the couch and my secret. Caught. Dead. History. Nothing to do except wait for the inevitable when she reached the couch and looked down on my nylon-clad legs.
She reached out to feel my forehead, which I'm certain must have been cold and clamy from sweat, when she stopped abruptly and stared directly at my legs.
"What are you wearing?" she exclaimed. Her eyes jumped from my legs to my eyes then back to my legs. "Are those my pantyhose?"
"Yes," I managed. My deep shame swelled from the pit of my stomach. I wanted to peuk.
My mother breathed deeply as she regained her composure. I expected her to explode with a screaming fit, ground me for life, or rip the hose off my body and spank me till I cried, but instead she calmly stepped around the end of the couch and took a seat next to me. She crossed her legs as she leaned into the cushions, causing the hem of her skirt to rise and expose her nylon covered legs to mid-thigh.
"How long have you been wearing my hose?"
"A few years."
"You wear them whenever you're home alone?"
"A lot of the time. Are you mad?"
"No darling, of course I'm not angry." She hugged me then squeezed my knee. I couldn't have imagined a more accepting attitude. I couldn't believe this was happening. A mother and son, both wearing hose, sitting together and calmly discussing pantyhose was beyond comprehension.
"I'm just shocked and confused that something like this could go on so long without my knowledge. Is there anything else you do that I don't know about?"
"No."
"Have you tried on my lingerie?"
"Well, I did try on some of your slips once."
"Only once?"
"I think so."
My mother smiled knowingly. I didn't want to tell her how often I had worn her slips.
"There are some groceries in the back seat," my mother said as she stood up. "Why don't you change clothes and bring them in. We'll talk more later."
My mother went into her bedroom and closed the door. I changed clothes in my room and threw the hose into the clothes hamper in the bathroom. After I put the groceries away I returned to the couch. My mother was in her room for a long time. I thought I heard her talking so I assumed she was on the phone. We went out for pizza after she came out then watched a movie together "Lord of the Rings" when we came home. I think she was trying to be nice to me as she's not a big fan of the movie. Neither of us brought up the hose incident during dinner or the ride to and from the pizza place. We seemed to talk about everything but the incident.
When the movie ended, my mother motioned for me to sit next to her on the couch. I figured it was time for our talk.
"Jamie. I want you to know that I am not angry with you for what you were wearing. But I am angry with you for sneaking items out of my room. I understand why you didn't want to talk to me about this and I hope you would have eventually brought it up."
I sat with my eyes downcast, hoping that this would all end soon and wondering how long I would be grounded.
"Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
"No," I said, shaking my head.
"You're not gay are you?"
"No Mom!"
"Okay. I'm sorry. I had to ask."
Some moments of awkward silence passed between us.
"Do you still want to wear nylons?"
"I'll stop mom. I promise I'll never wear them again." I didn't really believe that and I'm pretty certain my mother didn't either. Even if I really wanted to stop I don't think it would be possible. I had tried a few times and even managed to go days or weeks without indulging but it never lasted.
"I want to make a deal with you. If you go along with it I won't ground you and we'll overlook your dishonesty."
Honesty was a big deal with my mother. "What's the deal?"
"I will buy you your own pantyhose and you will wear them everyday, all day, for the rest of the summer. At the end of the summer, you can wear them or not. Your choice. But I think we will know by then how you really feel about wearing them."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. I wouldn't joke about something like this. The choice is yours."
"What if I say no?"
"Then I will expect you to not be sneaking around in my clothes anymore and we will need to determine how long you're grounded for your past behavior."
I certainly didn't want to be grounded, which would likely mean no computer privileges, and getting to wear hose all the time sounded fun. But would she really make me wear them all summer? I had only worn them for a few hours at a time before. This would be 24/7. And what would my friends say, not that I had all that many. "Okay," I said.
"You'll wear hose all summer. Are you sure?"
"As sure as I'll ever be."
My mother smiled. I think that was the choice she wanted me to make. "Well, I think it's time for bed."
"Can I stay up for awhile and play on the computer?"
"No. I think you should go to bed."
It took awhile for me to go to sleep as I kept mulling over the day's events and the choice I had made. What would my sister say? We were on good terms for teenage siblings but....
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