Iowa is just about the middle of nowhere. And I was just about stuck there.
A few years ago, I was working for an issues group right outside of Omaha in Council Bluffs. To a lot of people, it would seem a great gig. I barely had any accountability, didn't have to report to someone except by phone or email, worked from my office, and set my own hours. There were goals and expectations, but everything was so muddled and confusing that it was tough to figure out when I was doing well or really what I should be doing in the first place. So I had a lot of free time and was making a decent amount of money. But, like I said, I was stuck.
I'm not from Iowa, though it is a very nice state. Originally, I'm from Pennsylvania and moved to Iowa for this project that only lasted a few months but seemed like it would be good for my resume. Plus, at 24, I figured I was young enough that it was worth the trip, promoting some good liberal issues at the same time. As an average looking white guy, I blended in pretty well. Too well actually I guess because it is very easy to get lost in the crowd when everyone pretty much looks the same.
Out in Council Bluffs I knew pretty much nobody, and the few people I did know I couldn't talk to because they were working for campaigns or organizations that prevented us from communicating. And they were always really busy anyway. The few people from my organization who were also in the state were hours away in Des Moines or Ames. Plus, knowing that I was only going to be around for 6 months, with no intention of staying even if I could, I was hesitant to start a relationship or get myself too invested in the region.
Loneliness and boredom, however, cause the mind to wander. I have to confess that I have always had a fetish for pantyhose and tights. In high school, I would stare at girls legs every time they wore any legwear. I snuck a few pairs of my mom's when she had a snag and tried them out, feeling how smooth and snug they were on my legs and feet and ass, but especially how great they felt on my cock. By college, I had gathered the courage to buy a few pairs of my own hose, usually at a supermarket late in the day, and slip them on, stroking my cock and cumming in the nylon. But anytime I did wear hose, I had to take them off for fear of getting caught, so I rarely wore them for more than an hour at a time, then went back to lusting after legs in hose and the feeling in nylon.
College was also when I started to see pantyhose websites and see pictures, videos, and stories of men wearing pantyhose. I've always lusted after women and consider myself straight, but, for some reason, the thought of wearing pantyhose with another guy just got me so so hot. It was just a fantasy, and not always a frequent one, but I couldn't help but look at some of the pictures and stare, noticing myself getting harder.
That was college. That was when I had roommates and friends around all the time. Now I was in Iowa, away from most anyone I knew, and definitely alone. Now I could buy pantyhose anywhere and not think about anyone noticing me. Now I could wear them as long as I wanted at home, cause I lived alone and it wouldn't matter. I still was nervous, but after my first time going to JC Penney and buying some nice pink tights and black sheer hose, I got a rush and quickly my hose collection was around a dozen pairs. I started to not just look at pictures online, but join chatrooms and email groups. I took pictures of myself in pantyhose and showed them to strangers. I couldn't believe how exciting it was, even if I never showed my face. At first I just showed off my legs on the couch or stood and posed, and it took a bit before I got the courage to get closer and show my cock hard in pairs of hose, but I was loving showing myself off, and then getting pictures from others in hose as well.
I still looked mostly at women online. And I still was always checking out women at the stores when I went out. I tried to meet a few women at bars, but I'm a shy guy and somehow being alone made me more reserved. At one point I joined a dating site, but they said there were no matches near me. Needless to say, I had reserved myself to just being alone for the 6 months and leaving it at that. But, now I was feeling more free with my fetish. I started not just wearing hose to jerk off, but sleeping in them sometimes, and I even started to wear them out under my pants.
God what a rush it was to wear pantyhose under my pants, feeling that nylon brush against my thighs and caress my cock all day. I didn't do it every day, just if I didn't have some work project to do and felt a rush to do it, but my fear that people would notice seemed unfounded. The girl at the register never cared when I bought tights. Nobody every seemed to bat an eye when I searched for the right color or size. In some ways, this was a disappointment, and I was surprised that I was let down that nobody gave me a wink or even a comment, but it allowed me to feel more comfortable wearing them.
I felt comfortable again when I was wearing some Leggs Sheer Energy black pantyhose while at the JC Penney again, this time shuffling through some huge collection of tights. I was deciding on a color, and picked up a pair of forest green in my size. Once I had them in my hand, I had to stroke the fabric in my hand just a bit, loving how soft it was.
"I bet those will look good on you."
I froze. I didn't turn my head, just darting my eyes over to the left and right to see if someone was saying that to someone else. After all, I was alone, right.
"You should get the red tights too, those look fun."
Now there was no doubt, I was caught. I bit my lip and was literally sweating, at least from my head, even though the a/c was blasting. I turned and saw a man a little older than me, probably a shade over 30, who looked in decent shape but definitely not muscular, and most definitely not creepy looking. He was smiling at me, and I was still holding the green tights.
"Oh, these, uh, they are for my girlfriend," I was barely able to muster.
"Nonsense," he said, still smiling knowingly at me. "I know they're for you, you're wearing some right now."
At that, I got nervous, running my hands around my waist, of course I had worn a shirt that would cover enough to not show a waistband even if I bent over. The guy nodded down and I saw that I had snagged the ankle of my hose just a bit right on a small hook.
"I bet you don't have a girlfriend either, do you?" He whispered, leaning over to me, my breath heavy.
"Uh, um." I couldn't think straight, I didn't know what to do. This was not in my plan.
"Do you have a boyfriend instead?"
"No no! I...I just like pantyhose, that's all."
"Well, if you're so single, let me introduce myself, I'm Steve." He reached out his hand to me and I felt no option but to shake and be courteous at least.
"Jeff." I felt dumb for not making up a fake name, but I wasn't thinking straight, figuratively or literally.
Steve took the green tights from my hand and looked at them, clearly inspecting for the size, and then he bent over and picked up a pair of red ones, just like he'd mentioned. He smiled at me and nudged me to follow, which I felt obliged to do at this point, going down the aisle that had all the other hose with him.
"Since I seemed to have startled you, why don't I buy these for you? It's the least I can do." He was very friendly, and hey, he already knew I liked hose, so what's the harm in a couple free pairs.
