I'm a clothing fetishist, or rather a sock fetishist, who has a special fondness for socks, tights and stockings. The feeling of soft, sheer, fabrics on my legs is nearly enough to give me an orgasm when I walk.
I simply love the feeling of sheer nylon on my legs. It feels almost like electricity when I rub my thighs together. I also enjoy seeing tights on my legs in various colours and patterns. The way that the light shines on them when I walk down the street in the sunlight makes me feel incredibly horny.
I own hundreds of pairs of socks, tights and stockings and have a whole wardrobe devoted to my fetish. For me, it's not just about wearing this type of clothing but also about being admired while wearing it.
I love it when men pay attention to my stockings, and it makes me wet to think about a man worshipping my toes and feet through my tights. This is a very intimate fetish for me, and if I want to share it with someone, I have to make sure that I know them very well.
I had tried dating outside of the fetish scene for a while, but although most men have a craving for stockings, and, to a certain degree, tights and socks, few men have a real desire to worship a woman wearing these items.
I therefore decided to join Fetish.com to find a man who truly wanted to worship me while I acted out my fantasy as a sock fetishist.
Mark seemed to be the ideal man for me. He was handsome and had his own extensive collection of socks that he liked me to wear. He loved nibbling at my toes and kissing my feet. He enjoyed rubbing his hands over my legs while I was wearing my sheer stockings. I thought that Mark was truly the one – sock fetishist – for me to spend the rest of my life with.
As time went on, though, Mark became distant. It became increasingly apparent that he was spending less time with me and more time trying to avoid any mention of my fetish. We weren’t enjoying a rich, fantasy life the way that we were before. This made me very upset. I began to consider that Mark might be having an affair. In some ways that would have been better than what I eventually discovered.
However, I noticed one day that my socks were going missing from my drawer. At first, it was just one or two, but then I noticed that several pairs were missing. Suddenly it all made sense.
I asked Mark if he'd been stealing my socks. He seemed relieved that he'd been found out and confessed that he was not in love with me anymore as he had become obsessed only with my socks. He did apologise, but I suppose that I got what I deserved when I dated a sock fetishist even more extreme than myself. Still, I have no regrets about the time that I spent with Mark.
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