She was a great woman with great legs. – Charles Bukowski
Very few of you know this, but I went to an all-girls school in Manhattan until my teenage years. That image in your head is correct: white knee socks, plaid skirts, and tight button-up shirts with little collars. While inside the building, our skirts had to reach the tips of our longest fingers with our hands at our sides. This was wickedly unfair as I have always had long arms to match my legs for days. But as soon as I left the building, that skirt would be rolled up faster than Grant through Richmond.
I like my skirts short, always have. Especially paired with heels, although we had height restrictions on those, as well. While walking to school, women on 5th Avenue would break from their usual New Yorker nonchalance to compliment my legs. Or that crude man from shouting out his work van window, “You could be a porno star!” That one always stuck with me. To be desired by men has always been my easiest attribute and strongest charm. And a man who loves legs is especially no match for this vixen’s charms!
I love a leg man as I too have a deep love of legs. I love watching women cross and uncross their legs. I love the sound. I love running my hand over thinly-veiled legs, my own or others. I was born a pervert. As a young girl at that all-girls school, I would routinely look up other girls’ skirts. During the summer, I’d stare at my friends’ tanned thighs and notice their sun-bleached golden hairs. Legs have always filled me with desire, from ankles to the gentle arch of a lower derrière. But paired with stockings, it takes my leg lust to a whole new level.
I have a penchant for fully-fashioned stockings and World War II history. These specific nylons were made famous due to their scarcity during WWII. Fully-fashioned stockings were launched in the USA in 1939, but it was soon decided items like parachutes were slightly more important. Did you know Russian women during the war used to use silk German parachutes to make panties? I digress! Anyway, there is nothing to beat the look and feel of good quality nylons. If you haven't yet run your hands over my nylon-clad legs, you’re in for a real treat!
As many of you who have seen me know, I love stockings. I have always been a sucker for fishnets, one of the iconic accessories of a fallen woman, an identity which I revel in. It delights me to get dressed to meet my men and to take specific stocking requests. I find solace in my ritual of dressing and it gets me grounded for session. A snippet of it includes putting my garter belt on first, slipping my panties over the belt, and then comes the process of fastening my stockings.
Part of my ritual is that I bunch my stockings up gently at my feet, drape them over my perfectly-pedicured toes (usually painted a classic red) and then slowly sheath my stems in nylons, luxuriously rolling my stockings over my toned calves, knees, and soft thighs. Sometimes I go with vintage Cuban heel stockings with the perfectly aligned back seems or I stick with my signature sheer black. It all depends on my lingerie and my mood.
I enjoy the satisfaction of sliding the clasp at the end of the suspender strap to grasp the top of my nylons and centering it perfectly over my exposed thigh. No matter what, I always wear fully-fashioned stockings, as they are the most glamorous and luxurious of stockings. It is my preference to undress completely during session (nudity is one of my best looks) but I leave my stockings. I usually give a good show as I take off all sorts of layers of sexy pieces, leaving my garters and nylons for last (if they even come off at all). I also have some tricks I like to perform if I do chose to take off my stockings, but you’ll have to find out some day for yourself if you’re not already chuckling as you read this…
I love it when I bring a man to his knees and he worships my nylon-clad legs as I look into his eyes, towering over him in nothing but heels, stockings, and suspender belt. Breathing in my scent, running his face over my perfect legs, and finding his way to the smoothest essence of sensual bliss. Especially sans nylons, my bare legs are meant to be worshipped deeply. One of the compliments I receive most frequently is that I have the softest skin. My smooth, perfectly shaven legs just beckon to be caressed and kissed. I really do enjoy special attention to be paid to my legs as they deserve it!
But dear, I always deserve your worship, and your devotion is admirable. Alas, I am getting a little worked up sitting here crossing and uncrossing my long legs. Feeling the smoothness of my flesh, that grazing sensation between my thighs, all causing me to feel very satisfied with my physical existence. I think it’s time to go pleasure myself, ta-ta!