It all started with my mother.  When I was an infant, she dressed me up in tights.  I guess she did this because tights were a cheap way of keeping me warm.  Anyway, at about age 2 I think she stopped it.  Later on, when I was 4, I took notice of my sister wearing tights.  I was curious.  Also, I had a girlfriend playmate who used to wear tights often.  I asked her all kinds of questions about them, how they felt, if she liked them, etc.  One day, she and I were 'dressing up' in all kinds of clothes left lying around, when I discovered a navy pair of tights.  I put them on, and didn't think much of it at the time.  Later that day, my mother asked me where I'd found the tights.  I explained, and in return she simply said "well, I don't want you wearing them."

Some time later, when I was alone at home, I saw some women on TV wearing tights.  I decided to go into my sister's drawer to find a pair that would fit me, and try them on.  I found a nice burgundy pair, slid them on, and laid down on my bed, touching my legs.  I really liked the way they felt.  I don't know if it was conjuring up subconscious feelings of happiness from when I was little, associated with wearing tights.  Whatever it was, I knew that I really liked wearing them.

Unfortunately, my mother caught me and was not pleased.  Quite angry, in fact.  I was forbidden to wear them.  "But, why Mom? Mary gets to wear them, why can't I?"  "Because BOYS DON'T WEAR TIGHTS!".  That was the end of it; no further discussion.  Well, children thrive on what they're denied.  So, I simply got clever about it, making sure she wasn't home when I wanted to wear them.  But I got caught a few more times (I was only 6 by this time), the last one being a fearful one;  On my way out to go to 1st grade, my mother stopped to adjust the cuffs on my pants, but couldn't help to notice my 'socks' were red.  She discovered I was wearing tights under my pants.  In fear, I promised to take them off.  But she said 'no', and forced me to go to school wearing them.  I hated it--knowing I did something 'wrong', and now I'm forced to stay wrong.  After that, I didn't touch them for a couple more years.

By the time I was 8, my interest renewed.  I couldn't help but notice girls at school wearing colorful tights.  It was all the fashion rage for girls.  So, I delved into my desire again, this time much more cautious--I never got caught again.

After a while, you get tired of doing the same thing over, and over.  Simply wearing the tights wasn't enough.  And having bulky underwear underneath them kind of looked silly.  So, I tried an experiment--wear the tights with nothing else.  Well, that did it.  I started to get a hard on.  Now up to this point in time, I really never did much with the random hard-ons that I get now and then.  But now, I decided to touch myself.  And it felt good.  Great, in fact.  So, I roll around on my bed, touching my tights clad legs, feet, and abdomen.  I loved it!  I did this a few times, but again it started to feel routine.  Next, I decided to touch my crotch intensively.  As I stroked my hard-on, it began to tingle.  Blood started rushing to my head, I felt tingly, and then... orgasm.  Wow!  It was amazing.  But scary, too.  I wasn't sure if I did something wrong.  After the feel subsided, I didn't feel like wearing the tights anymore.  So, I stripped them off and put them back in my sister's drawer.

The first experience of orgasm was something that drew me to the tights even more.  And rather than favoring one pair, I had to try on different ones, explore the feeling.  Even putting on multiple pairs--that increased the tightness and forced me to have even more explosive orgasms.  And by the time I reached 12, that was when I had my first "gushing" orgasm (the others had all been dry).  Of course, you have to be careful, otherwise the tights get all messy!

So, there you have it--my sexual energy became entwined with tights.  But, as I observed the kids around me, I was very well aware that "BOYS DON'T WEAR TIGHTS", and that I was doing something "WRONG".  Tights became my love-hate friend-nemesis.  They delivered pleasure, but also set me apart from other boys.  I really liked girls.  A lot!  But by being served by the tights, my sexual interest in them took a long time to mature.  At one point, I thought I was gay (never crossed the line, but eventually realized I definitely wasn't).  Later, I realized it was only a fetish.  But I loved it and hated it at the same time.  I'd buy tights from dancewear suppliers, have my way with them, then cut them up with scissors afterward.

Later, I discovered the concept of the 'unitard'.  I saw a woman on TV wearing one continuous layer of nylon, and I knew I'd absolutely have to have one.  And MStevens provided the means, with their Milliskin unitards.  Wow--it was quite an experience from wearing tights.  Very erotic!  That became the ultimate.  Although it was fun to wear just tights, the unitards gave a very strong effect.

Well, later on in my life (I'm now in my 30's), I went into therapy (for other reasons), and eventually learned that this fetish is something I should embrace.  When I'm not dating women and having intercourse, these serve as a great relief for me in between.  The only difficulty is integrating the tights into a relationship.  I've only found 2 women that accepted it.  Of the other 2 that I'd shared this with, they thought it "unmanly" and broke up with me.  So, although I appreciate the fetish, it still curses me.  But... I've gotten over the destroying part.  I now have close to 15 different tights and 5 unitards, that I've accumulated over about 10 years.

Will this fetish even wane?  It has from time to time... especially when I'm sexually active with women.  But there have been times when I put on tights or unitards, and NOTHING happens.  It feels nice, but nothing sexual at all.  I though that maybe I'd be over it, like the adolescent that finally loses his blanket.  But the Internet rekindled it.  Finding loads of images of women in pantyhose, tights, unitards, etc., got me back into this.   So, I don't know if it will remain with me.  Maybe one day, I'll fall in love with a woman that wants me, but not with the fetish, and I'll have to force myself to forget them...  heh, right.  I know I never will.  They give me too much pleasure.

By the way, I rarely wear them in public.  Once in a blue moon, I'll put them on underneath my pants, but that's it.  It's usually just to have fun with them in privacy of my home, for a few minutes to an hour at a time.  Even sleeping in them on a cold night, if I feel like it.  So that's my scoop....   sorry I rambled on!  I hope that any of you who are struggling with this fetish may benefit from what I've written.   Take care, and keep tight!   ;-)