Moving on...

[Carol and I continued to date for almost two years, and I did not seek to involve hosiery in our intimate moments.  I completely stopped wearing tights or unitards.  It was as if the fetish never existed for me.

All good things eventually come to an end.  I wasn't planning on that happening with Carol.  But somehow we were just in different places.  I wasn't ready to settle down, but for her the clock was ticking.  And so we parted ways.  Because we worked at the same place, it was tough having to run into each other nearly every day.  Eventually I changed jobs and moved out of state.]

It was a bit stressful being in a whole new place, with only one friend nearby.  The new job was a mixed situation as well.  While I felt very competent at what I was tasked to do, I was faced with a clique situation and I found it increasingly difficult to "win over" my co-workers.  They were a pretty tight knit little group.  I eventually transferred to another group in the company and that worked out much better.  Dating wise, there weren't any real prospects.  Most of the women at work were married, or in a serious relationship.  Those that weren't were not desirable to me.

In retrospect, I wish I'd had a lot more self confidence.  I was terrible with the club and bar dating scene, about the only venue I knew of to meet women.  I'd made some new friends at work and this was all they knew as well.  I tried to branch out and take some classes in the arts, in hope of meeting up with women in the "real world", but nothing came of that.

I still had a lot of boxes I'd not yet gone through at home, so I figured it was time to cut through them and get it over with.  Some boxes didn't have labels on them and so I left those for last.  Eventually when I got into them, I found one having a zip up duffel bag inside.  When opening that up, I found a tied off garbage bag.  And then inside that... a large collection of tights and unitards.  It was strange to see them again.  I felt oddly detached and yet was keenly aware of how I used to feel about them.  The red footed lycra tights stood out among the rest.  Touching them, I was curious to know if they would feel any different this time around.  So, I slipped them on...

New possibilities, to indulge or not

Now that my girlfriend knew of my fetish, the next thing was... what do I do now?  Did confessing mean I could now wear them in front of her?  Would she be alright knowing when I'm wearing them under my trousers?  Would she be open to the idea of wearing them together when we're indulging in foreplay?

The first step I took was to put them on in front of her while I would be getting dressed for work, completely covered by trousers except for my ankles.  She would make a few glances my way and smile at me when our eyes met.  She actually thought I looked good in them.  And I absolutely loved watching her slip into pantyhose, something she did often for her work "uniform".

The most dreaded fear and revelation

[Fast forward another couple of years...]

* * * * * * * *

At this point, I have amassed a collection of five unitards and about a dozen tights.  Some of the tights are from dance wear suppliers, so they're thick Lycra and seamed on the legs.  But most are women's tights that I've been able to buy from department stores.  There were plenty of trials and failures of buying tights that looked like they'd work out, but then I'd be sorely disappointed by the quality or the fit.  Eventually I found a couple of brands that actually fit me OK.  I started wearing them more often, like in bed and under my clothes.

But unfortunately, insecurity still lurked in the back of my mind.  I wasn't really afraid of rejection at this point, if I'd managed to get caught by a girlfriend (like her rummaging through a box or drawer of mine and finding the tights and unitards).  I feared that my indulgence with the tights was robbing me of my masculinity.   That while I wasn't dating, all of my "bonding" with the nylon stretchiness was forging a stronger tie.

Then I met Carol.

We were working together at the same office and finding that we have a lot in common.  She was rather cute, but engaged to be married, so this was a perfect opportunity to have a platonic girlfriend.  I hadn't had one in a long while.  It's tough with men and women... you need a special dynamic to have a friendship without a sexual angle.  They say that one or both people in a male/female relationship will have an attraction for the other person on a subconscious level, that with the right circumstances can be brought to the surface.  That's why you can be friends with someone for a good stretch, then one day you kind of "wake up" and realize that you're really attracted to them.  Well, with an official acknowledgement of intended betrothal, there was every good reason not to think about attraction.  She wasn't my "ideal" girlfriend.  And, there were other girls at work I was attracted to.  Funny enough, when I confided in Carol that I was attracted to Cindy, a statuesque brunette with super model looks, she sought to become her friend.  Cindy had a boyfriend who was a muscle head.  Of course, right?  But, from what I began to learn from Carol was that she wasn't happy with him.  He took her for granted and was outright rude at times.  Cindy was becoming ambivalent about staying with him.  That's why I decided to make my move. I invited her out to lunch.