Ever since the first time I slipped my first pair of nylons on my feet and legs as a girl, I was totally enraptured by the sight, sound, and feel of nylon. Whenever I was alone I couldn't wait to slip my shoes off and run my stocking feet up and down my legs and rub my feet together. It just felt so delicious and made my pussy tingle. Growing up I noticed that some boys liked to watch me do this which made it all the more exciting!
I always wore stockings or pantyhose and constantly dipped my feet in and out of my shoes, and if someone was watching, all the better. As I grew into puberty I found myself having orgasms doing these things. As I became an adult I noticed how many men were captivated by my dangling shoes from my toes! I met lots of guys this way.
In fact this is how I met my husband; he was attracted to my dangling shoes and stocking feet and he admitted it right off the bat. That's why I married him. I admired his honesty and forthrightness.
My husband and I lived a happy and fulfilled life; having and raising a son. And then it ended abruptly...when he was killed in a plane crash!
Sean was fifteen then. Growing up I noticed he had a lot of his father's traits, especially his fetish for stocking feet. I always saw him looking at my feet as I always wore hose every day because it pleased his father and I still wear them because I enjoy them so much.
Of course, being our son, I had never thought of Sean in a sexual way and so his glances and stares had no effect on me. Now, after being lonely and alone for three years and his ascent into adulthood as a young man of eighteen, Sean's attraction to my stocking feet, in spite of my efforts to suppress it, triggered those old lustful feelings again.
I was working now, and Sean was attending a college in our city and living at home. We had finished dinner and the kitchen was cleaned up, and we both sat in the living room to watch some TV. Sean usually sat on the sofa facing the TV, and I usually sat in the recliner sort of between the sofa and the TV. I picked up a newspaper and sat in the recliner. I didn't push it back but kept one foot on the floor and crossed my right leg over my left. As I flipped through the pages I started rocking my foot to slowly dislodge the shoe from my heel. As I did so that delightful feeling spread over me starting at my feet and moving right up to my pussy. I glanced over at Sean from behind the paper and sure enough, he was not looking at the TV but staring right at my foot. I rocked my foot letting my shoe slowly slide down my instep and swing from my toes. Watching Sean watch my shoe dangle from my stocking foot brought back all those delicious feelings that I experienced all those years doing this very thing.
Thinking I was engrossed in the paper, Sean stretched his legs out in front of him, and interlocking his fingers placed his hands together over his hardening penis, he tried to rub it surreptitiously so as not to attract my attention or appear too blatant. As I watched him I let my dangling shoe fall off my foot which elicited a silent "oh" from his lips. As is my usual habit, I uncrossed my legs and rubbed my stocking foot up and down my other leg, then slipped off my other shoe and rubbed my stocking feet together. I then pushed back in the recliner, ejecting the leg rest and made myself comfortable with my shoeless stocking feet stretched out for Sean to gaze at.
I couldn't see him from behind the paper, but I could hear him slide onto the floor, and the next thing I know he reached up and tickled the bottom of my foot, which I quickly jerked away and squealed as he said.