Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Fripperies, foibles and fabrics (an ode to stockings, a denunciation of tights)

I read a blog post on a kink-too-far recently and intended to write my own inspired by that, taking the subject seriously. But then I saw an gif that made me shudder. A close-up of  a female crotch clad in white tights, the gusset being suggestively cut open with a knife.

The shudder wasn't caused by the close-up, or by the knife (I wrote a cutting-off-clothes fantasy scene once and I am rather fond of knives, of which perhaps at another time). But tights, especially white tights, especially white tights worn without knickers: As someone else commented: NO. Just no.

So before I write that serious post on turn ons, turn offs, limits, YKINMK and the like, some thoughts on fripperies. Little things. Isn't it odd, and funny, how a relatively small aspect of an object or a situation can change something that's hot into something at best neutral, sometimes shudder inducing, sometimes repulsive? But also the other way round: a little change that transforms a neutral thing into gasp-inducing hotness?

Hosiery is a case in point.

I love stockings. I dislike my bare legs most of the time (no need for a body-positive sermon, I don't pathologically hate them, merely dislike, OK?) and stockings That includes hold-ups, though it's cheating and I wear suspenders with hold-ups anyway because I have not yet found hold-ups that hold up for any length of time, which might be size related. Whatever it is, walking along a country road in the rain trying to catch a lift and having to stop every three minutes to hitch up your skirt and pull up the fucking no-hold hold-ups is not at all fun.

Anyway. I do like stockings, especially opaque stockings with plain or plain-ish tops. Rather high (i.e. opera-high rather than mid-thigh or just-above knee schoolgirl type). Black, or occasionally bright red, for preference if opaque, black if fishnet, nude if disposable, dressy and translucent.

I like the process of putting them on and fastening the clasps, and sometimes I like to have my partner do it for me. I like the way they look, but I like the way they feel much more. I like the way the cover legs without covering crotch, I like the ease of access that's not obvious to the onlookers. I like the way they make it easy to slip my hand under my skirt and into my knickers to touch myself while driving without having to fiddle with the belt, buttons and zips. I like the way it's possible to have sex while wearing them. I like how they make one both dressed and undressed.

I like the stocking edge and the suspender straps perhaps the most: a line in body landscape between the living skin and the fabric. I love how this line can be traced with my own fingers or how other fingers or lips can be guided along it across my thigh, or cross it on the way up. I particularly love the shift in sensation when a tongue moves from the stocking to skin, the change in temperature, the different way the moisture of the breath and saliva feel directly on skin and through the fabric, how the barrier both limits and paradoxically, enhances the sensation.

Fishnets scale the latter effect both up and down for the whole garment, and if cum is to end up on stockings, fishnets are my favourite by fair. Particularly if it's to be licked off (think: those little holes and a stiff tongue tip!).

This is all about the garment, though. I don't have anything beyond a practical appreciation and in fact a sensory dislike for nylon, lycra or any artificial fabric. I'd love to wear silk stockings updated by modern technology to make them stretchy and fitting rather than wrinkly, and ideally not costing equivalent of my weekly earning.

But yeah, I do like stockings, and I do fetishize them. They turn me on, as an idea and (just a little bit ;) in actual use.

But in the same realm, I dislike (i.e. fucking hate) tights. Sure, I wear tights now and then, especially in the winter, always thick and opaque. They are undoubtedly practical, sometimes look good or are fun with chunky, studenty, wintery clothes, sometimes are necessary evil.

But sexualization of tights? Ewwww. Ewww. I mean it. I chatted to a very nice boy once, who was into crossdressing/lingerie a bit (I think I forgot to mention that I do like men in stockings now and then too) and what could have been a fun flirty exchange of ideas and pics crashed (or laddered, perhaps) on his continuing bringing up tights. Worse: pantyhose. Panty-fucking-hose. Talk about a (lady)boner killer.

So, just to make my point clear, tights, although not phobia-inducing, are not sexy for me. And thin, plastic tights worn without underwear, as often depicted in erotic/pornographic visuals are definitely a gusset too far.

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