Nylons, Nylons, Nylons Everywhere!

Very early spring Saturday of my fifth year my father cleaned out the basement. He had loaded up the trunk with the items he wanted to take to the junk yard and asked me if I wanted to go. I wasn’t doing anything so I agreed to go. The junk yard was only a 10 minute ride from home but because we lived in a semi-rural area it seemed farther. Once we arrived Dad began retrieving the items from the trunk. I was immediately fascinated with the junk yard. Dad told me not to wander off or touch anything because it could be dangerous. There was no one else around and I could hear the wind gently blow from time to time. Suddenly, something fluttered in the breeze. Could it be? I walked toward the fluttering object. Why yes, it was a nylon stocking. I immediately picked it up and just as quickly Dad told me to put it down. I looked around and saw approximately 4 or 5 additional stockings fluttering on “junk” and I scooped them up. It was then that I noticed they were coming from a cardboard box. The wind would occasionaly blow open a flap and eventually a stocking would be released. I went to the box and opened it. It was packed full of ultra sheer nylon stockings. I had to have it. I knew there was no way I could “sneak” home the box. I began shoving stockings in my pockets and then down the front of my pants into my briefs. Oh how frustrated I was. I had hardly made a dent in the box and my briefs and pockets were full. Dad saw what I was up to and again told me to put them down, that I couldn’t have them.

I just could not believe my luck to have come across so many nylons. I wanted them and and was a very determined little boy. Stubborn. The box was approximately 12″ x 12″ and 9″ deep. I closed the box, picked it up and headed to the car. I opened the passenger door and placed the box on the floor in back as I climbed into the back seat and waited for my father. Dad finally finished and climited into the car. Calmly and gently he said, now you know you can’t have those stockings, what do you want with them anyway? I tolld him I wanted them because I liked them. He asked what that meant and I replied that I liked how they feel and I like to wear them. He let out a muffled chuckle and said well, little boys don’t wear stockings to which I replied this one does and he again chuckled. I had an answer for everything. He sighed and then said well you don’t need all of them. Is that box full? he asked. I told him it was to which he suggested I leave to box behind and keep the ones in my pockets. I guess he didn’t notice me sutffing them down my briefs…LOL. I refused and began to get whiney. It was late afternoon and I guess he didn’t feel like dealing with a whiney 5 year old and didn’t want to be the “mean” Dad so he reluctantly gave in. He said “Okay, you can take them home, but you had better not let your mother know or I will never hear the end of it. Also, don’t let your brothers or sister know you have them. You can keep them until Monday, and then you have to give them to me to throw away. Do you understand? You can have them for the weekend but you aren’t keeping them? I said “yes” as I prayed he would relent on Monday.

When we pulled into the driveway Dad asked how do you plan to get the box in the house? I put it in the area way to the basement and then followed Dad into the house. I immediately went to the basement, opened the door and brought the box inside. I also pulled the stockings from my pockets and briefs. I dumped the stockings out and matched them up. They were all the same size and came in just 3 shades, cinnamon, deep suntan and taupe. What surprised me is that they had never been worn, they were all pristine. I imagined someone did their own spring cleaning and threw out their stockings because maybe they converted to pantyhhose or perhaps someone had died and the family threw them out. In any case, I was in heaven. The stockings were printed with the brand names on the welt but I no longer remember them. There were two different brands. Also all of the stockings were reinforced heel and toe. I counted 67 complete pair! I had one single stocking remaining.

I folded each pair and placed them all back in the box which was fine as the box was in excellent shape. I believe the nylons must have been dropped earlier in the day as we had received rain the night before. I also believe it was meant to be for me to find them. I stripped off my shoes, socks and pants and quickly put on a pair of stockings. They were entirely too long for me. The top of the stockings came to my waist and the reinforced heel was on my calves. I pranced about the basement in my stockings but was disappointed because I wanted to rub my legs but couldn’t because the stockings would immediately fall to the floor when I let go of them. I saw clothespins by the dryer and got an idea. I pulled the stockings through the leg openings of my briefs and then clipped each stocking top to the waistband of my briefs with a single clothespin. I was elated. I pranced about and was able to rub my legs while doing so.

I played in the basement until dinner. When called I quickly removed the stockings and got dressed. I hid the box behind other boxes under the stairs. Later that night my father approached me and said he had been thinking and that I needed to give him the stockings now. I protested and reminded him how he had said I could keep them until Monday. He said he was afraid my siblings were going to find out and then my mom would hit the roof. I told him I was being careful. He then asked “what are you doing with them? I said I was wearing them. He smiled and shook his head. He then replied “you can’t wear all of them between now and Monday. You can keep one pair and the others have to be thrown out. I reminded him he promised and he finally relented but told me he didn’t want any whining or argument on Monday.

On Sunday, Mom went to my grandparent’s with my siblings. I asked to stay home. My father was staying home to watch basketball. I immediately retreated to the basement when the car pulled out of the driveway. When Dad called for me to come up to each lunch I didn’t want to. He insisted and I knew by his tone that he was serious. He had made me a sandwich and never once asked what I was up to in the basement. I had worn three different pair of stockings throughout the day, one of each shade. I couldn’t decide which I liked best. I was having a blast. At dinner time Dad called down to say that Mom and the kids were having dinner at my grandparent’s and that he was going to order pizza for us. At this time, pizza wasn’t delivered to homes in my neighborhood. We would have to drive to the pizza joint. He told me to come on up and to leave the stockings down there. We ate the the pizza shop and on the way home down again reminded that I had to turn over the box of stockings tomorrow. I began to whine just a little to which he firmly stated that he didn’t want to hear it, I was to give it to him tomorrow before he left for work. End of discussion. I was crushed! I knew he was serious.

As soon as we arrived home I retreated to the basement. I was did not want to give up MY stockings. They were mine and I didn’t want anyone else to have them. Not that I thought he was going to give them to anyone but I just didn’t want my parents taking them away from me. I thought a bit and came to the conclusion that if I couldn’t have the stockings then no one else could either. I had seen runs in my mothers pantyhose but wasn’t really certain how they came about. I looked around for something sharp and noticed the whitewall tire brush next to the car wax. I gently raked the brush across my right leg. The brush caught the nylon in several places, creating snags. I raked the stocking again in the same place and noticed a couple of long nylon threads wafting in the air. I took hold of one of the threads and pulled it until it broke. I small hole opened in the stocking and the nylon began to unravel a little. I thought “oh this is how runs happen.” Throughout the evening I wore every pair of stockings and literally ran the ever loving shit out of them. I didn’t rip them in 2 or tear holes in them but they were so “runned out” they were like lace. It took me quite some time to do this and I was exhausted when I finished but also happy that I had gotten to have the stockings for as long as I did and for knowing that no one else would get their hands on them.

I placed all of the ruined stockings back in the box. By this time Mom was home and I was soon called up for a bath. As I kissed my Dad good night he reminded me of my promise. I simply replied “I know.” I arrived home from kindergarten and my Dad approached me in the yard as I walked toward the front door. He said “well it’s time, I’m leaving for work shortly, I think you have something for me.” I went to the basement and Dad followed. I retrieved the box and handed it to him. He asked if all of them were there. I told him they were. It had never occurred to me to keep a pair or 2, or 3, or 4 or…LOL. I mean he had no idea how many pair I had. Anyway, Dad opened the box and looked in. He looked somewhat surprised and asked “well what happened here?” as he pulled a stocking from the box. I told him I runned all the stockings. He hesitantly asked “you did? Do you want to tell my why?” I told him that last night I decided that if I could no longer have the stockings that I would make sure that no one else could have them. Dad chuckled and asked “did you think I was going to give them to someone?” I replied “not really, but if I can’t have them no one else can.” He was quiet for a moment and then said “well, you know, I don’t care if you have them but your mother would and that is why I told you that you couldn’t keep them. If no one would know about it I wouldn’t care but you know your brothers and sister will talk if they find out.” Dad thanked me for being honest and said he would throw the box away in a dumpster at work so Mom wouldn’t know.

I’ve had a life long love for nylon, specifically pantyhose. My father knew throughout my teens and young adulthood that I was buying them and wearing them and never said anything about it. As a matter of fact, once I turned 16 I was allowed to have my bedroom be in the basement, We had an old console stereo down there that no longer worked. I had a brother who was always invading everyone’s privacy so I had to have a place to hide the pantyhose Greg and I bought. I didn’t risk putting them in my dresser. The stereo had sliding doors on top that exposed the controls and turntable. There was quite a bit of room in there. I had stashed 4 L’eggs eggs containing pantyhose and 3 pair of No Nonsense pantyhose.

Unbeknownst to me Dad had arranged to finally get rid of the stereo. He asked if it was alright if he came down and then he announced he was getting rid of the stereo today. A friend of his was on his way to carry it out of the basement and put it in his truck. I just said “ok”. Dad then asked “is there anything in there that you want?” I said “No.” Dad asked again, “are you sure?” as he slid open the doors. He looked in and said “you have pantyhose is here, are you sure you don’t want to keep them?” I hesitated to answer and then Dad said “Michael, I think they are yours, aren’t they? If you want to keep them it’s okay. It would be a shame to lose them, you’ve got to tell me now. I’m not going to tell anyone you have them.” I was embarrassed but finally confided that I did want them. Dad handed them to me and then I hid them in my suitcase…LOL. A few minutes later Dad asked “are you buying them?” I told him I was. I think he was a little surprised by that.

 
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