NYLON POOL

I never have enough pairs of tights. I have wardrobes and drawers filled with tights. I want tights dangling in every room in my apartment, over the bathroom mirror, over every chair. When I have enough pairs I would like to get encased from head to toe in shiny pantyhose, fill the deep bath with pantyhose (no water) and lie under them, rubbing them over my body and say ‘I love tights’ or ‘I love pantyhose’ over and over again. I’d be so happy. For hours. I already do this on my bed most nights. Unspoiled nylon on nylon. In different shades and hues and deniers. Ideally with a couple of hosed guys standing over me and jerking into my pantyhose bath, over my shiny distorted and compressed face, as I laugh at my own wild eyed pantyhose insanity. In fact why stop there? How I dream of a swimming pool, full to the brim with tights and pantyhose. New, worn, dirty, whatever. Dry. Glossy. And to share a pool with encased men. As long as there are tights, tights, tights! Mmm. What a way to spend an evening.