I have a secret in my shoe too
PART 13
Story by Joy Cohaan
My girlfriend Victoria told me one afternoon that she made an appointment with
Lisa and her transvestite girlfriend Brigitte. "Esther, my darling," Victoria
said, "tonight we're having dinner at Lisa's place. I hope you remember her,"
Victoria said. I surely did remember her. A few days after I met Victoria some
twelve months ago Lisa and her girlfriend Brigitte walked into Victoria's shop.
Lisa turned out to be an actress in a porno theater. Because she has the biggest
vagina in the world even a human head can completely disappear into her huge
cunt. That day in Victoria's shop I myself experienced this, so I surely haven't
forgotten it at all. But a lot has changed ever since that day. Nowadays I can
proudly say that Lisa isn't anymore the only woman in the world with a vagina
that can accommodate a human head. The last twelve months I've had a inflatable
dildo in my vagina as well as in my asshole. Every day Victoria makes sure that
the dildos are as big as they can be. On account of that I can have a human head
in my vagina and my ass. We went to Lisa and Brigitte at eight o'clock. To my
great surprise they also invited Yvette, the woman who introduced me the day
before to very special nylons, that have a wonderful sound and a beautiful
sheen.
Lisa and Brigitte are addicted to nylon. They both wear a one piece nylon body
suit that covers them from head to toe. It turned out that they had prepared a
surprise for us, a very special surprise. We discovered five human chairs around
the dinner table. Every human chair was made of five gorgeous women. There were
two different kinds of chairs: two identical chairs for Lisa and me and
identical chairs for Victoria, Yvette and Brigitte. My chair consisted of a
beautiful bald female head to sit on, two beautiful nylon covered legs acted as
the back of the chair and two pair of nyloned legs as adjustable armrests.
"Please sit down," Lisa said to me. I pulled my panties down and sat down on the
beautiful bald female head that belonged to a lady with the name of Stella. The
lady had a tube in her nose which enabled her to breathe after her head had
disappeared into my belly. The moment I sat down her head was inside me. "My
God," Lisa said, "that goes easily. Your vagina must be bigger than mine." I
shifted a little bit because I wanted my full weight to rest on the bald female
head. It went in deeper and deeper until finally my buttocks rested on her
shoulders. My vagina was stretched to the limit. My tight corset protested
against the inside intruder. I sat back and rested my back against the two fully
fashioned nylon legs behind me.
To my surprise I discovered another female head between my legs. With a remote
control I could press the head against my vagina. I guided the head to my clit
and she immediately sucked it inside her mouth. When I sat back the heady aroma
of pungent nylon feet waffled up my nose. I looked around and saw the two pair
of legs that formed the armrests were wrapped in extremely dirty nylons.
"Because I know you're addicted to foot aroma Esther, I made sure you' re
surrounded by legs in very worn stockings. For your benefit I arranged the
armrests in such a way that you can have these funky nylon feet in every way you
like. With the remote control you can guide one of the legs of each armrest to
your face," Lisa said. I did as she suggested and guided two rank nylon feet to
my nose. I stopped them two inches from my nose. Now I had one foot at the right
side of my face and one foot to the left side of my face. The two ladies were
arching their insteps to their maximum potential, pinpointing their sweaty
shrimps directly at my nose.
I bent forward and took one of the feet into my mouth. I rolled the sweaty nylon
toes in my mouth savoring the taste delicacy and inhaling the delectable ped
perfume. My pussy became wet instantly and I started bouncing on the head inside
my belly till I climaxed. "Easy, Esther," Lisa said, "the evening is young."
Lisa sat down opposite me. Victoria, Yvette and Brigitte sat down on their
chairs, which didn't have a female head to sit on because their vagina's aren't
that big. Their seats consisted of human belly. "Let us have a drink first,"
Lisa said. Having said that she operated a remote control. Five pairs of nylon
legs surfaced above the table, each pair beside each of the dinner guests.
Dangling between each pair of the beautiful legs was a transparent straw. All
five of us knew what to do with it. We started sucking on the straws and the
reward was a mouthful of fresh champagne de nature. "Only champagne is good
enough for us," Lisa said. "You don't have to hold back because there is plenty
of it. Each of the "bottles" is filled to the brim," Lisa said.
The table was made of polished glass so I had a beautiful view of all the ladies
sitting around the table. Lisa and Brigitte were dressed in a one-piece 20
denier nylon body suit that covered them from head to toe. Everything Victoria
wore was made out of very worn nylons. Yvette wore her longer than long nylons
that came up to her waist, attached to a garterbelt with 48 garters, and topped
by a 20 denier nylon full-slip and arm length nylon gloves. The whole room
smelled of the heady aroma of very worn stockings. To my knowledge none of these
five ladies ever washes her stockings. Yvette was crossing her nylon legs
constantly as she always does.
"Please be silent everybody and listen to the beautiful noise Yvette's nylons
make," I said. We agreed that her nylons make the best sound in the world. "How
did you get addicted to nylons?" Lisa asked me. I told her my mom and dad used
to play footsie with me when I still was a baby. They were sitting on the couch
and I was down on the carpet. They used their feet to play with me: my dad in
his nylon socks and my mom in her smelly fully fashioned nylons. Ever since then
I was addicted to smelly nylon feet. "And how did you get into the game?" Lisa
asked Yvette. "That is quite a long story," Yvette answered. "You sure you want
me to tell it?" she asked. "Yes!" we all shouted.
"I grew up in Bonneville during the golden age of fully fashioned stockings. As
you probably all know Bonneville used to have a well known hosiery factory. The
only factory in town. My father and my sister worked there and my mother used to
work there after the war. But the fact was that everybody in town worked in the
hosiery factory, and there was never a shortage of stockings in every household
in town. The people of Bonneville were very proud of their factory and there
wasn't a woman not wearing the finest, the most expensive, the sheerest and the
most exciting nylons. And most men loved their work, they were proud of it and
very often talked about it. Every pair of nylon legs they spotted attracted
their attention and just by the look of them they knew what style of stockings
the woman was wearing. They knew everything about the amount of needles used,
the yarn, denier, color shine and sound. For the men the name of the game was
leg-watching, and for the women the name of the game was leg-showing. Needless
to say, this had a huge effect on every child in town. At an early age I already
noticed that men stopped talking when my mother crossed her legs, which she did
frequently.
On Sunday in church all women crossed their legs when the minister finished his
prayer. It seemed that everybody in church waited for this moment, the
excitement was in the air. As a young girl I didn't know what this meant at all,
but I could feel the importance of this moment every Sunday. Although it might
seem different, most people in Bonneville were very prudish. Surely they were
into nylons but they didn't realize back then that it had anything to do with
sexual excitement. Maybe the men did, but surely not the women. On account of
that affect us girls were not allowed to wear nylons till we reached the age of
sixteen. Of course we couldn't wait to encase our bare legs in mysterious
nylons, because a girl without stockings didn't count at all in Bonneville.
Stockings meant womanhood, without them you were just a child. Of course I did
wear my sisters or my mothers stockings, but always in secret. For me stockings
were always easy to find. They were everywhere as a result of a post-war
misunderstanding.
After the war the factory used European perlon to make stockings instead of the
American nylon. They only used it for one year because perlon stockings shrank
when they became wet, but every woman in town had lost a pair trying to wash
them or in the rain. So news was out very fast that nylons couldn't be washed.
This belief didn't die when the factory changed perlon for nylon as a result of
which the women of Bonneville didn't wash their stockings for years and years to
come. But because they didn't want their feet to stink either, they did
everything to keep their stockings and feet as clean as they could. My mother
removed her stockings once a day, washed her feet and put on a "fresh" pair of
worn stockings, most likely the one she had been wearing the day before. To
freshen up the stockings my mother used to hang them in the bathroom, in front
of the open window of her bedroom or outside on a clothesline.
As a result of this all over Bonneville in every household or garden stockings
were hanging everywhere to be cleaned, so for us young girls there was easy
access to all the stockings we wanted to try on. But because the stockings
weren't really cleaned the odor of smelly nylon feet could be smelled ever so
slightly in every room in the house and around every woman wearing nylons in
Bonneville. Because nylons shouldn't become wet the women also did everything
they could to prevent their feet from becoming sweaty. They dressed as lightly
as they could in order not to sweat. My mother always wore open toe high heeled
slippers or open toe high heeled sling backs. In winter she had to wear high
heeled court shoes outside, but when she came home she immediately changed them
for her high heeled slippers. And when it rained most woman didn't cover their
head with an umbrella or a raincoat, but their nylon legs. Because the
reinforcements of the post-war perlon stockings did shrink the most, stockings
with a high and wide black foot were very popular. Because every woman knew that
they couldn't prevent their feet from sweating all the time they preferred to
wear stockings with a high and wide black foot because with those it didn't
matter when they did shrink a little bit.
Another interesting thing in the south of the country back then was that most
women slept in their stockings. They were so prudish that they felt much too
naked without stockings. So they kept them on at night. Nowadays a lot of them
still do, but instead of stockings they wear pantyhose in bed. So you can
imagine that I couldn't wait to become sixteen. On my sixteenth birthday at
eight o'clock in the morning my presents were in front of me on the breakfast
table: two dozen fully fashioned seamed stockings, three pairs of high heeled
slippers and two panty girdles, one white and one pink. I didn't have breakfast
at all because I rushed upstairs to dress. Ever since that day I have always
been wearing nylons, day and night, and my adoration for them hasn't changed at
all. I love the sheen, the sound and the smell, and believe me it isn't just
sex. They belong to me, I can't live without them. They're always in my mind: I
look at them, I feel them, I smell them. And that's why I'm so exited to have
met Esther yesterday. I think she's the only person in the world who shares my
deep love for nylons," Yvette concluded.
Victoria announced that she brought with her ten extremely dirty nylons and
asked everybody around the table if they were interested in having a pair
stuffed into their noses. To my surprise all of the ladies wanted to do it. When
Victoria stuffed a pungent stocking into each of my nostrils I climaxed
immediately. When all five noses were stuffed with five pairs of stockings,
Yvette said: "I want to have the real thing later on. I'm desperately in need of
sniffing Esther's nylon feet." I told her I couldn't wait either, to feast on
her sweaty nylon toes.
But Lisa wanted the others to tell their stories first. "I know how you got into
nylons Brigitte, but I want you to tell your story," Lisa said.
"Because my father died I had to accompany my mother when she went to work."
Brigitte sai, "She worked five days a week from 7:00 am till 10:00 pm in the
canteen of a textile factory. There was nobody else working in the canteen. She
had to make food for the seventy women working the night shift. The women didn't
come in all at once but six at a time. I was a very shy boy at that time. So
when the female workers entered the canteen I hid under the table. I remember my
first day in the canteen vividly. It was October 5th, 1954. All six ladies
removed their shoes once they sat down around the table. The stench was
enormous. That first day I kept my nose pinched shut with my thumb and
forefinger.
After some time I fell asleep. I awakened later that evening with my nose buried
between the damp nylon feet of one of the women. I still didn't like the salty
tang of her sweat, but in one way or another I felt comfortable and secure
between her pungent and moist soles. Her slick and saturated nylon feet felt hot
and squishy and the heady aroma of her aromatic feet was nauseating, but at the
same time the silken embrace of her moist nylon soles made me feel good,
protected and cared for. So the next day I couldn't wait to hide under the table
again and wait for that lady to come into the canteen. But it was impossible to
tell which lady had given me so much comfort the previous day. I checked out
every pair of nyloned feet by examining them and smelling them, but all of them
looked good to me. Not all of the ladies liked me sniffing their acrid toes, so
I was kicked in the face a couple of times, but most of them did enjoy it.
So at the end of the second day I had buried my face in several pairs of nyloned
feet. After that day several ladies reached out for me with their pungent feet
once they were seated around the table. One other important thing happened that
first week. My grandmother had given me a self made doll. The doll was made of
old stockings. Because the doll never left my side day and night, it wasn't what
it used to be anymore. An arm and a leg were missing. When one of the ladies
spotted this doll she promised me she would give me her ruined stockings so that
my grandmother could fix my doll. Within a week all the ladies in the factory
knew they had to give their ruined stockings to me. They didn't hand their
stockings to me but just let them fall under the table when they were having
dinner. After the first week there wasn't one single day I didn't receive at
least one pair of ruined stockings. Most of them very smelly because they didn't
bother to wash them before giving their nylons to me. So I didn't only become
their foot stool but also their stocking disposal boy. Later my mother married
again and stopped working.
In the end I had been hiding under the table for more than four years straight.
Under the same table I had unconsciously had my first sexual experience while
lying on my back with two pungent nylon feet on my face. Very soon after the
first week I started to like the smell of dirty nylon feet and within half a
year I was addicted to nylon foot aroma. A lot of the lady workers enjoyed my
addiction because they liked their feet pampered after standing on them all day
long in the humid factory. They liked me to nibble on their sweaty nylon toes,
to roll their rank nylon shrimps in my mouth, to slip my tongue in and out of
their saturated nylon crevices, to gobble down every tasty morsel of toe cheese,
to slip my tongue between their damp nylon toe cleavage, to snake my tongue
between each pungent-smelling nylon toe. During those four years I collected
more than a thousand pairs of ruined nylons, and I still have every one of them
today. Not only did I become addicted to stockings in my mother's canteen, but I
also didn't want to be a boy anymore.
I couldn't imagine my life not wearing nylons every day, and therefore I became
a girl with a dick," Brigitte concluded. Yvette couldn't wait anymore and walked
over to me. "Let us lie down on the king size mattress upstairs," she said. "I
hope you don't intend to leave as alone," Lisa interrupted. "Of course not,"
Yvette answered. So the five of us went upstairs to lie down on the bed. Yvette
immediately removed my shoes and planted her face in my moist nylon insoles.
Lisa sat down on my face and relieved herself trough her nylon crotch. Brigitte
pushed her nylon covered penis inside Lisa's throat and Victoria snuggled
between my legs to put her head inside my belly. All five of us climaxed within
two minutes with a lot more orgasms to come.
The End
