Sunday Morning Pantyhose II
By
Tracy Davis

This is a true story of how my Mom feminized me as a teenager. She had caught me wearing her pantyhose the summer before seventh grade. I got the surprise of my life the first Sunday of junior high, when she started encouraging me to wear them -- Tracy

After I started wearing nylons to church every week, Mom started buying me pantyhose whenever she bought some for herself. I would come home from school and go in my room and find a pair of nylons laying on my bed, new in the package. After looking them over and thanking Mom, I would put them in my underwear drawer. I felt so girly every time I would open my underwear drawer and see the jumble of pantyhose in there, along with my boy underwear!

One night, Mom was doing laundry, and she washed out a bunch of pantyhose and hung some of them in my bathroom. She said, “I just washed out our hose. I hung yours in your bathroom to dry. Feel of them tomorrow, and when they’re dry, you can coil them up and put them in your underwear drawer.”

Every time I walked past the bathroom, I looked in at my hose hanging there drying. My hose! I felt like such a girl!

I was starting to get particular about how I put on my pantyhose when I wore them. After I got them pulled up to my waist, I would look in the mirror and make sure the panty seam was right over my crack. Then I would finish pulling them up to my ribcage, forcing the panty into my crack, to separate my buttocks and give me a nice smooth girl’s butt. That way when my shirt rode up you could see I had pantyhose on. I just loved that feeling!

Early in December, I woke up on a Sunday morning, got up and put on my pantyhose like every Sunday, and went out into the kitchen. Mom was already sitting there at the table, mixing Serutan into her orange juice. I got a cereal bowl and glass out of the cupboard and sat down at the table.

“Serutan?” I asked.

“Yes,” she moaned, “I have been SO constipated lately. When was the last time you did your push job?”

“I haven’t done one for a couple of days,” I frowned. “I feel a little crampy inside this morning.”

“Sound like you’re constipated, too,” she said. “Here, let’s put a little Serutan in your juice to help give you a push. I’ve had such hard dry stools lately, even with the fiber I’ve been taking. I’m going to have to have an enema after church if I don’t go this morning. I haven’t had a bowel movement for three days.”

I felt my leg itch, and I reached down and scratched it, feeling the texture of my hose on my leg, and my dick started to get hard. I laid my hand in my lap and then started to graze my hosed legs with my fingertips, fascinated with the feeling. We started talking about what we were going to wear and different fashions, and what color nylons to wear with them. She told me the difference between nude, beige, tan, taupe, and coffee shades. After a pause in the conversation, I said, “I think I like suntan the best. You can definitely tell I have hose on when you look at my feet. I feel so pretty with these on,” blushing.

Mom patted my hand and said, “That’s why we wear them – to be pretty,” and we both giggled. “I can tell you like wearing them. You keep running your hands over your legs, and you just look so happy.”

“When we’re sitting together in church, and I can see you have hose on, and I know I do too, I just feel so close to you.”

“Awww, that’s sweet,” she said, reaching over and touching my hair.

After we cleaned up the breakfast dishes, we went in the bathroom and I did a nice big long push job. I loved sitting there on the toilet with my smooth tan pantyhosed legs showing. I crossed my legs, admiring how pretty they looked, and I started bobbing my foot up and down like a girl while my poop was sliding out of me. After Mom wiped me, I went in and finished getting dressed while she tried unsuccessfully to do her BM.

It had snowed the night before, and as we were getting ready to leave for church, Mom said, “I got a new pair of shoeboots the other day, and I thought you could have my old ones. They’re lined so you won’t have to put socks on over your hose. Those can be yours from now on.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said. I went back in my room and took off my socks, then went back and pulled up my pantlegs and slid my nyloned feet into the boots.

They had heels, and when I stood up, Mom said, “When you walk, step heel-to-toe. Put your heel right in front of the toe of the other foot when you walk. That’s how you walk in heels.”

I felt really sexy as I walked like that to the car, hearing them clicking on the concrete. As we were driving to church, I thought about what Mom said about them being mine, and then I thought about girls at school talking about getting their first pair of heels, and I thought, This is my first pair of high heels! At church during the sermon, my legs crossed, sitting there next to Mom, I started thinking again about how we both had pantyhose and high heeled women’s boots on, and how close I felt to her right then. I looked at her and saw she had a pained expression on her face, probably from the constipation. I felt badly that I had had a BM and she couldn’t go at all.

“Are you OK?” I whispered, concerned.

“Mmmmm,” she grunted, unhappily.

I took her hand and held it, and she moved our hands over on top of my knee, and smiled. I flexed my toes and enjoyed the feel of the nice soft linings of the boots through my nylons. I kept thinking about how sexy I felt when I slid my pantyhosed feet into my ladie’s shoeboots before we left home. If I took them off right now, people would see my reinforced toes and know that I had hose on! My dick was so hard. I looked down and you could tell that I had an erection. I hoped nobody noticed.

After church, we were standing around in the fellowship hall, and I saw this really pretty woman reach down into her slacks and pull her pantyhose waistband up several inches, wiggling around as she did it, then pulled her sweater back down. It was so erotic, knowing that she had hose on under her slacks just like I did.

After we left church, we drove to the drugstore. As Mom and I walked into the store, you could hear both our boot heels clicking on the tile floor as we walked. I noticed I was starting to walk like a girl in the heels without even thinking about it! We went over to the laxative aisle and Mom picked up a Fleet enema and was looking at it. I looked down at my feet in women’s boots, remembering the sleek feel of the slacks over my hose, and the click of my high heels as I walked in them. I remembered the woman at church pulling up her pantyhose waistband, and I wanted to try it. Looking around, we were alone, and I reached down under my shirt and into my slacks and pulled up my pantyhose waistband just like the woman at church, all the way up to my ribcage, wiggling as I did it, showing the whole world that I had hose on. As luck would have it, just as I did, a woman came down our aisle and saw me doing it. She looked at me quizzically as she walked past. I looked down at my crotch and you could tell I had an erection again!

Mom picked up a two-pack of the enemas, and said, “I’m going to get two of them. That way we’ll have one on hand in case you or I get really need help to go.”

When we got home, we sat down on the closest kitchen chairs and took off our boots. Standing up in our hosed feet, Mom said, “Lunch is going to be a little late. I’ve got to get some relief.”

“That’s OK,” I said. “I know you really need to go.”

She went in her bedroom and shut the door. I went in my room and laid down on the bed, unsnapping my pants and sliding them down to my thighs. I reached in my hose and straightened out my hard dick. Looking at my hosed feet, feeling the slacks sliding over my hose, and remembering the morning’s events, I was ready to explode. I started running my fingers over my dick, feeling the texture of my hose against my glans. I thought about Mom in the next room having her enema, and remembered the last time she gave me one, and how good it felt when I finally had my long-overdue bowel movement. Looking at my pantyhosed toes, I moaned in my best girly voice, “I wore my high heeled boots today. . . with my panty hose.” I exploded, filling the panty of my hose with a huge gob of semen.

A little while later, we both came out of our rooms. Mom did look happier. “Feel better?” I asked.

“Mmmm-hmmm,” she said. “I had to go so bad. Now let’s have lunch!”

To be continued..............