Updated 17th January 2005
This page is a collection of texts sent in by readers. Email me if you have something you would like to appear here. Text can be tagged with your email address, or just your name, or even be completely anonymous: if you want to receive messages without giving your name and address out, I will act as a clearing-house.
Here are the texts currently available:
The first text to appear on this page comes care of Julie, who was kind enough to write in saying how much she had enjoyed these pages. I replied asking her if she could contribute any text, which I do to nearly every message, and she sent me back this delightful little essay. Please note: the picture above left is not Julie: she may send me a picture some time, but I don't have one yet. I used an image of Donatella Versace, whose outfit is like the one Julie describes.
And now, for your reading pleasure, I present the first user text:
Julie here again. I am sure most of your readers are male, but as I explained before I am a bi female and I am sure that you have a few more female readers who adore the female form in tight skirts as much as I do. The type of skirt a woman wears can tell you a lot about the wearer - I should know! I am lucky enough to be able to put on these garments whenever I feel like it and my girlfriend is a tight skirt lover to, so you can imagine the fun we have. I love the avi of the rightguard girl [no longer available now the videos page has been closed] trying to do up her too tight skirt. I know how she feels. I always make a big deal of doing up my skirt (and undoing it) and I am sure more videos of women struggling to fasten their skirt zips would be well received.
When I am wearing an especially tight bum hugging skirt in public I always make a point when I know people are staring at my behind of toying with my skirt zip, making sure that the zip is always down an inch or so to allow me to do it up again. Dancing is also fun in a tight skirt, especially when you are wearing 4" stilletoes and the dance floor is crowded. You can hardly move and the tight restriction of your skirt is so sexy!
I would love to be a regular contributor to your page with stories etc. I am very broadminded and open so please ask me anything you like, I won't be offended. You never know I might even get a tight skirt pic done for you. See ya!
Julie. Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
One of my most prolific contributors, supporter RJS, was very interested by this essay. He had already told me that he especially likes tight skirts with a back zip, and after reading Julie's words about them wrote back to say:
I have been thinking about why I find that back zipper so fascinating. The first time it got my attention was when I went to church in my childhood (I'm not that religious anymore though). It is custom to stand up once and a while, for instance when singing. The woman that was sitting in front of me was wearing a tight skirt and I could see that the back zipper was broken and thus a little open. I have to say that from how I remember this moment now I found it very sexy. I just remembered this (it actually happened) just a few days ago and I think this is what started my fascination!
Julie has also written back with another essay. I have to post a WARNING that it contains adult material, but I could not throw away material as good as this. Here is a true story of how a woman of today came to be wearing tight skirts:
When I was 17 I started dating a young guy called Tom. I had been going out with him for about 2 weeks when one evening in the local pub he started asking me questions about my clothing, especially my skirts. I found this line of questioning a little strange at first and began to think Tom was a transvestite, but after a little more prompting from me he admitted he had a skirt fetish. I was rather inexperienced with guys and was a trifle shocked at his revelations, but as I liked him a lot I endeavoured to be understanding.
It turned out that his fantasy was to watch a girl walking around the room in a tight, tight skirt, bending and moving how he told her to. I laughed at this initially as it seemed so strange. I had heard of guys looking up skirts, and having fantasies about sexy lingerie but never plain skirts. As I did not possess any such item he said he would buy me one if I agreed to pose for him. It seemed harmless so I thought what the heck, gave him my skirt size and that was that.
The following weekend he arrived at my house while my parents were out for the day, with this bag. In it was the tightest skirt I have ever seen. It wasn't short, it came just above my knees, but it was incredibly tight and a dark blue in colour. It fastened with a back zip and button. I went into my room to put it on, wearing black fishnet stockings, suspenders, and matching panties and bra. I wore a red silk blouse to top off the outfit. The skirt was tight, but I am slim and it sort of suited me. I stood in front the bedroom mirror twisting and turning trying to see the effect. When I was satisfied I looked ok I went downstairs into the living room where Tom eagarly awaited me.
I stood in the doorway, hands on hips and legs slightly apart and said,"Well, what do you think?"
Tom was speechless at first as he eyed me up and down with his tongue out and his eyes almost popping out of his sockets. He eventually managed a "Wow!" as I walked in the room. I knew it wasn't a cheap skirt and it was well lined so you couldn't see the outline of my suspender belt through the material, although I noticed that from the back there was a very clear VPL. Tom was clearly in heaven as I paraded in front of him like a Paris fashion model. I did feel stupid at first, but as Tom was clearly getting a lot out of it I didn't mind.
I spent about 10 minutes bending, stooping, crouching and stetching as requested by Tom. He then asked me turn my back to him and then very slowly ease my skirt zip down. I did as I was asked, and when it was undone he told me to fasten it again, slowly as before. I continued in this fashion for about 15 minutes, Tom telling me how great I was and how that tight skirt suited me. He then said that girls toying with their skirt zips was the greatest turn on he knew. It was at this time that I began to realize what power a girl has over a guy. Just a simple act like unzipping my skirt and he was putty in my hands. I played on it and began to get aroused myself. Tom then asked me to zip up my skirt and then he came and knelt down behind me. He put his hands on my hips and proceeded to pull my skirt zip down with his teeth! Kinky or what!
The finale to this little game was me lying on my back with my knees bent and my legs apart while he sat on the sofa in front of me looking up my skirt. He then masturbated while copping an eyeful of my sexy underwear. This experience for me anyway was the catalyst for a lifetime of sexy fun. I grew to nurture the power I knew I had and all girls have over guys. Sex with Tom always revolved around me wearing a tight skirt, and I grew to LOVE it!!!!! Later on my sexual preference changed, and that is due to my love of tight skirts. It is another story altogether, but next time I will reveal how and why it happened.
Bye for now,
Julie. Xxxxxxxxxxx
RJS read the story of Laura on the Fiction page, and responded:
I have a little story for you (true again, but since I have to go about fifteen years back I don't remember all of it and maybe putting in some details that aren't completely true) which looks a bit like the story MK has donated; actually, his story triggered my memory which caused me to remember this:
My English high school teacher [she was often wearing tight skirts and hopefully is :-)] was often telling our class some very sexy private stories. She made me feel like I had a very special place in her heart and I think she made every boy feel like that. On one fine day she began telling us how she had to attend to a friend's wedding in England. On the wedding day she decided on wearing a very tight skirt. The wedding ceremony in church had already begun and, for some reason, she and her boyfriend were late. While rushing into church she lost her hand bag. I'm glad her boyfriend didn't have the courtesy of picking it up because then I would have missed this story. Anyway, since her boyfriend didn't pick it up she had to bend over herrself and pick it up. As she did so, it became clear to her that her skirt was too tight! She told us how she felt that her skirt being pulled tighter and tighter as she bent over more. Just as she became in reach of her hand bag, due to the ever increasing restraint her skirt snapped and tore from the waste down! While being very embarrassed about this she managed to keep her head cool and sat down on the last row. Just before the cere-mony was over she left to go change in their hotel room. If only this could have happened in our class room....
On the now deceased Enge Rocke homepage, CW was lucky enough to elicit a marvellous story from a reader called Svenja. I asked him to get her permission to reproduce it. He gave me his permission, so I presume he asked her; if he didn't, and you want me to remove this, Svenja, then email me about it. In the meantime here is Svenja's story:
When I encountered your page by chance, and read your request for cooperation, I thought, now I a story which happened to me about one year ago. It is nothing world-shattering, but it fits the topic Since I actually enjoy wearing a tight skirt, if also, I cannot to be felt each day quite well to judge as we women us therein. If you feel my story belongs on your homepage I would be happy if you printed it.
Some months ago I went with my best friend to the Klammottenkauf in our town center (I deliberately don't say in which city). We wanted to buy something chic to wear for a trip to the theatre we were going to make the next evening. Well, actually my wardrobe is already overflowing, but for this evening I wanted to have something absolutely new. Anyway, we visited six fashion shops and I still didn't find anything to buy. My friend had decided in the last shop after long discussion to choose a really mad evening gown. And I still had nothing. In the end I decided to buy a dress which had quite pleased me in the first shop. I still wanted to carry on looking to see whether I couldn't find something better. We went back another way, and passed a small designer shop which I had never seen before. And in the shop window I saw a suit which immediately caught my eye. It looked an absolute knockout, and I can't put that any better. It had a jacket fitted to the waist, and a ultra-tight calf-long skirt. The suit was so simple in design that it was brilliant. It had also black shining stockings and high-heeled shoes, and looked simply breath-taking. That is it, I said to my friend, there's nothing so perfect in the shop. If I had looked at the price tag more carefully first, I don't know whether I would have gone in. I was really excited as I put the suit on. It fitted like a glove, as if it had been made for me.
But the skirt was really extremely tight, tighter than any I had ever worn before. I could also have done without the small back slit, as it didn't give any more freedom of movement. But I felt wild in this suit and the mirror showed I was right. Also my friend was very much taken with it, although she said she could never wear anything like that. The shop assistant did her best to convince me I should buy it. Nevertheless, as I looked at the price I had more doubts; 650.-DM, for a genuine piece of designer clothing, as much cash as is normally enough for the whole month for me. Perhaps it was a little expensive, and isn't the skirt a little too tight? On the other hand I felt impressive inside in this outfit, and my figure happy was good enough to let me wear it anyway. Also it was for a special occasion and we were driving in a car to the theatre, so I didn't have to climb into any high buses or run any long distances.As we left the shop were I was 650. - DM worse off.
The theatre trip the next evening was fantastic. With that suit I wore my five-inch stilettos and shiny black stockings. I felt terribly sexy and attractive in my new outfit, which was confirmed also by many compliments. After the theatre I decided to conclude the evening by going to a restaurant with my friend. That way we could spoil ourselves with good food and wine, and as a result it had got very late before my friend dropped me at my home. When I wanted to enter go into the building by the garden gate, I suddenly remembered something which I had forgotten: the key for the gate. I had completely forgotten that the owner of house locks the gate each evening at eleven o'clock, and it was almost one o'clock I had the key for the main door, but that wasn't much good to me now. In the house, where there were only three other tenants besides me, there were no more lights on. I had to face the prospect of climbing over the old wrought-iron gate. It was impossible to climb over the smooth stonework in which the gate was mounted, and there was no foothold. This had already happened to me once a few months before, and then I climbed over the gate which was more than two metres high, but that time I was rather differently dressed. I tried to pull up my skirt far enough that I could lift my legs, however the skirt was so tight at the bottom that I couldn't get the hem up to my hips. It stretched itself in such a way around my thighs that I couldn't get my legs further apart. I was now starting to feel rather uncomfortable, because the only way to get over the gate was to take my skirt off. There wasn't any alternative if I wanted to get into my house. At that time of day hardly any cars go past, and I very rarely heard pedestrians, nevertheless at least ten went past before I felt safe. Only then did I hurry to take the skirt and the high-heeled shoes off and put them by the fence of the building. Now, dressed only in stockings and the short jacket, I climbed over the high fence. If someone had gone past at that moment, I think I would have sunk into the ground. When I came down again on the other side, I felt terrible. I didn't even dress myself again, but took my things and went into the house. Once I got inside I rang my friend and told her my story. We thought it was priceless, because now I could also laugh at it.
"HGR" was the first to respond to my appeal for a translation of this story. I replied by honouring my promise to send him all the pictures I could think of htat he would like, and asked him if he had any stories suitable to appear on my page. He sent me this:
What was the sexiest skirt I saw? Difficult again, but I remember a little story that happened a year or so ago. I drove a street towards the city centre when I realised a young lady (in her early twenties). She was slim and tall and wore a long and tight skirt - dark blue with a white blouse and heels (not very high, maybe 3'). She was in a hurry to get a bus that had stopped some 100 m away. Since busses usually do not wait, she tried to run - but the tightness of her skirt limited the width of her steps. She almost fell and I thought that she would tear her skirt any moment. Anyway, it looked very sexy when she tried to reach the bus as fast as she could. Regrettably, I had to watch the traffic and she disappeared from my view - whether she made her bus, I cannot say.
RJS tells a story about a commercial he has seen on television in the Netherlands:
I have to tell you about a TV commercial that is shown on Dutch TV frequently. I think it is for a football toto or something. They try to convince us that everyone knows enough about football to participate in this game. Therefore they show us part of a match and joining the professionals (I've recognised some) is a young woman in a suit, wearing high heels. She gets the ball rushes to the goal and scores. Seeing her running in that suit is pretty nice although her skirt is up a little to give her more room to run. I recently saw a program on TV about this commercial and the story behind it will interest you. The pretty woman told us that she's a top amateur football player, but she had trouble shooting the commercial for two reasons:
1. although they had made a special shoe for her, running on high heels (on grass), was very difficult.
2. What made it even more difficult is that her skirt was too tight :-) They had to tear the slit of her skirt to give her more space to be able to run!
They really made a convincing commercial and the story behind it was great to hear.
I have had a lot of exchange recently with "Sage", who has sent me a great deal of material of one kind or another and also received a CD. I found it difficult to choose pictures he liked, so I asked him to explain his preferences. He did so by way of a little essay which he has given me permission to reproduce here:
One of the lady teachers at school was, well, a bit "schoolmarmish". You know a bit prim, and a bit broad in the beam. As I recall, she must have been in her mid 30s, although at that time, that probably struck me as ancient! This was 25 years or so ago, and she always used to wear - you guessed it - bum hugging skirts. As a teacher, she never used to dress outrageously, tending towards darker colours. I would hardly describe myself as a slave to fashion, so when it comes to types of material, I am a bit short of descriptive prose.
Anyway, there was this one outfit she sometimes wore. The material looked a bit like tweed, but lighter, with a sort of check pattern. The skirt was tight, and about knee length, and she had this equally tight sort of fitted jacket in a matching material. Even though I was about 10, it did perk my interest for reasons that I still cannot accurately describe.
That, however, is really a bit of icing on the cake. I would sit at the back of her classes, not because I wanted to skive, but to fully appreciate the "floor show". I`m talking of the days when schhol classes still consisted of rows of desks all facing the front. We would be given exercises to do (she was a history teacher) and she would spend part of the lesson walking around the class and every so often somebody would ask her a question. When this happened, she would approach their desk and bend down to talk to whoever it was, resting her elbows on the desk.
From the back of the class, it was a sight that would have inspired Wagner to another opera! To see that luscious bum, that skirt stretched as tight as a drum. As I mentioned, she was a bit broad in the beam, it was utterly magnificent.
Other times, she would pull up a chair an sit down to talk to someone. She would be leaning for-ward on the chair, knees together with her legs crossed at the ankle - I can remember as if it was yesterday. The memory that is most vivid are the little squeaks the chair would make as she shifted around occaisionally on it.
One of the people who ordered my CD told me that he works at an international airport and sees "some of the world's most beautiful women" passing through. I asked him if he could tell me about this, and he responded with this story which I have permission to use on the page:
Interesting happening last week.
A beautiful blonde woman in thigh high black boots with 5 inch heels, and silver buckles down the front, a tight knit black dress, sleeveless, low cut, with a killer body, passed thruough the metal detector at security.
Of course the metal buckles set off the alarms, so she had to be hand scanned. As she stood with her arms outstretched, her dress rode up even higher. She stood about 5'6" tall. As she was scanned, she kept moving her hips from side to side. The dress rode up further. So help me, if she would have moved a little more, it would have popped over her ass and shown the world. She knew what she was doing, no doubt.
When she turned around to be scanned from the front, the guards hands were shaking. She had perfect breasts and a dress so tight, that if she ate an M&M, I could have told you where it went.
As I was watching her, I heard a loud, THUD and someone say, Damn. I turned to see some salesman rubbing his head. As he was watching her, he walked into one of the support posts and banged his face.
She passed security and I followed her to the gate area, just to see her try and sit down. She took her time, knowing I was watching, and gave me one hell of a free show.
Needless to say, I ended up talking with her and found she was a model in L.A. She took my number and since I do photography in my spare time, I got her name and agency number. She promised to when she would be back In Chicago. The rest of the day I was useless, thinking about her and the trouble all the men around her would be having on the plane. I bet the stews were real upset. I only wish I had my camera. It would have been worth it.
Many of my readers who have complimented me on my page have said that it is something special to them: most "sexy pictures" pages on the Internet tend to assume that you'd rather look at nudes, or at the very most bikinis, instead of women fully dressed. This isn't the case with me, and several of my readers have told me that it isn't the case with them. To see if you belong to this category, read this story by "LAV", and if you would have felt the same way in his position then you're not alone!
It seems odd that in all my years, I've never met anyone who enjoyed looking at a woman in clothes as I do. It's rather refreshing really, I had thought I was somewhat off-balance. You have no idea what your site has done for me, it's like an old friend--for that I thank you. ...Also, it's nice to share the pictures with someone. I feel much the same way as you, the only difference being is that I like large breasts no mater how they got them.
I was out with friends one evening and a woman in her early to mid thirties (I'm guessing) came in wearing a royal blue business suit that was so tight, I'd swear she grew up in it. From the front the jacket flared out over her breasts and the white sweater underneath buttoned at the top with a large opening beneath the button which revealed her ample cleavage. The skirt was cut fairly high with a long slit up the back, and it hugged her rounded hips and butt like a second skin. From the front you could almost see what was hiding under that skirt. Well I was in second heaven admiring her ensemble when a friend's girlfriend said "from the way your looking, I bet you'd like to see her naked." I smiled and said "no, I see naked women all the time and I'd rather look at her just the way she is."
During the week ending the 29th of August, "skip" left the following story in public on my guest book. I wasn't able to contact him to ask permission to reproduce it, as he left no email address, but if he wants to talk to me about it I'd be delighted to hear from him. In the meantime, here is his own experience of tight skirts:
Great site. My girlfriend loves to wear tight dresses. She buys a column dress that fits tight, and has it altered so her steps are only about 18 inches long, if that. Basically it looks like she's poured herself into one leg of a pair of running tights. Considering she's a voluptuous size 10 at 5ft 9in, it's quite a sight Even her mother wears ultra tight dresses. She's 5ft 8in tall, but a size 12 in all the right places. We call her christmas tree behind her back, because with red hair and predominantly green dresses, that's what she looks like. Or like a pear in a condom. Once, my girlfriend's mom got drunk, and as a joke we actually were able to fit her into one leg of a pair of x-large running tights. It was incredible. Only her head and feet stuck out, and her rear looked so inviting. We even bent her over a chair and took photos of that bum. Made Anna Nicole Smith look thin.
During the week ending the 29th of December "na" left the following story on my guestbook. Again, as the story was left in public I've assumed he doesn't mind me using it: if he has any objection he had better contact me to get it taken down. This sounds like a pleasant evening out!
Love this page. Went to a formal function with my new girlfriend the other evening. Since I'm a tree hugger I always ride my bike everywhere, but I was obligated to pick her up. Imagine my joy when I arrived at her house and she had a dark green floor length column dress on. It was even better since it had no slit and was basically too tight down to her ankles. She wasn't too thrilled with the prospect of having to somehow climb into my 66 Jaguar E-Type coupe, what with the wide and high side sill. Whatever material it was had incredible elasticity, as evidenced when she was bent over to get in the car. Getting out she had to swing her feet out first, then basically touch her toes before clearing the doorframe and standing up. I got a great show all night. At 5ft 9in and with 38-26-37 stats, it's a sight to cherish.
During the week ending the 9th of January "Pete" left the following story in the public section of my guestbook, and according to the principle given above I have appropriated it for use here. This is slightly before my own schooldays (which you can read about here) but it is obviously a part of the same thrilling fashion!
What can I say? Thanks for a tremendous site. When I was about ten, I remember meeting the assistant librarian at school. She wore awful cardigans and long floral dresses at the time but she was in her early twenties, blonde and very sweet looking. Things changed over the next couple of years for both of us, of course and by around 1984 she had become a poster girl for the mid-eighties look. Her make up was a bit more vivid by this stage: glossy red lips and so on. One outfit she used to have on a lot is etched into my memory; I suppose I must have stared as she walked past. Her blouse had short sleeves and was white with tiny black polka dots. It fitted closely and though not low cut, it had sexy little buttons up the front. Her skirt was the best part; really short and tight, bright red and perfect to flatter her lithe body. What I loved was the wide black leather belt she wore to join top and bottom. It had a large and elaborate gold buckle and was gently curved so that it sat up high around her waist at the back but low on her hips at the front. She had an indescribably sexy walk. Matched with black stockings, high heels and a chunky gold bracelet, the outfit was something quite outstanding to look at. I used to blush when she'd smile and say hello. A teacher I had later was not too memorable except for a long grey woollen skirt she would wear in winter. It was mid-calf length and very tight. She wore a thick leather belt low on her hips with it that seemed to accentuate the phenomenal curves of her bum. She was not really sexy otherwise.
Around New Year of 1998-9 "Mike" left a piece on the guestbook which he said I could use here if I faked a couple of pictures of Marilyn Monroe in tight latex and Lycra dresses for him. I did my best, and got permission, so here is his reminiscence.
I've always had a fascination with well figured women wearing long, tight dresses. The tighter the better, and tight gowns without slits are the cat's meow. This past week I had a great experience. I was on my way to a friend's house when I stopped to get gas (petrol). To my utter delight there was a car with it's hood up and a flat tire in a lot across the street. I glanced over and saw one of the most incredible derrieres ever wiggling at me over the fender. Apparently an attractive young woman was having some mechanical difficulty and was trying to ascertain what had happened to her Mazda Miata. I stared while I topped off, and the whole time the woman remained bent over the engine. I should mention that she was wearing an incredibly tight fitting red dress that went to the ground, so her heels were barely visible. It was about as tight as the dress in the movie Mars Attacks. As if things couldn't go any better, she decided that she might as well get her jack out and put it by her flat tire. In doing this, she bent over at the waist and gave me the best view as of yet. I decided I might as well press my luck and see if she needs help. After introducing myself I looked under her hood and checked all connections, and found that her distributor cap was crooked and had thus destroyed itself. I fixed the flat and offered her a ride to a parts store, and she accepted. So we clamored into my Triumph GT6 (just restored, 170 miles since completion) and I had to hold her arms while she lowered herself into the seat, then I picked up her feet and swung them into the car. Upon chatting I found that she was on her way to a party, and after a few minutes I was invited. We got a new distributor cap, put it on, and drove to my house so I could become presentable. Well, we hit it off well enough to where we're now an item, and on Christmas day while exchanging gifts Sara looked me dead in the eye and asked me if I liked the dress she wore when we met. Fearing a trick question, I still said yes, and she let me see her closet that afternoon. Nothing but knee length and longer dresses, all colors, styles, etc. We capped off the evening with her modeling many of them, and Sara pointing out her custom alterations, which usually consisted of sewing slits shut. But the best dress she owns is a red stretch felt like hobble dress with a scoop neck and sleeves. It stretches enough so that she can walk with small steps, but always returns to maximum tightness. When she stands it looks so tight at the ankles you think she can't move at all. Absolutely stunning. Thought you might enjoy this.
"Cheese" read DWM's story of Callie and was impressed enough by it to write in with an experience of his own. DWM was writing what he'd like to see, but this actually happened to "Cheese", lucky man! This is the story of
One of my favorite memories is of a shopping trip to Frankfurt, Germany, when I accompanied my wife to look for a new outfit as part of our vacation. My German-born wife, Erika, looks like a photographer's model...five feet six inches tall without heels, a slender 12O pounds, long legs and long auburn hair that reaches to the middle of her back. She's proud of her twenty-four inch waist and routinely wears wide belts to draw attention to it. A bit of a tease is she.
Wandering through the city center, we came upon a shop window with some very attractive leather clothing items for women. Inside, a gentleman sales associate offered to help by suggesting Erika try on a leather suit. It included a pencil skirt, short peplum jacket with a notch collar and a very wide belt with a huge buckle, all in glossy black leather. Though it wasn't exactly what Erika had in mind, she went into the dressing cubicle where the curtain wouldn't quite close, providing me with an unrestricted view of my beautiful wife as she prepared to don the suit.
Wearing only her nylon hose and satin bra and panties, Erika stepped into the pencil skirt and began to work it up around her hips. While it's normal to buy leather clothes a bit small to allow for stretching, it was obvious this skirt was designed to hobble the wearer. When she finally worked the skirt up over her hips, she had to ask me for help in zipping the back as she held the wide waistband closed. I marvelled at the effect.
The skirt reached to just below her knees, forcing her thighs nearly together. The leather flowed around her thighs and hips perfectly as though it were a second skin. Erika stood in front of the cubicle mirror as I peeked around the curtain. Turning side to side, she ran her hands over the tight leather packing her in, delighted with the sight and feel.
"I can barely move, but it feels so....well, good!" she exclaimed, obviously delighted with what she saw in the mirror. I was delighted too.
The jacket was tailored to fit very tightly around the entire midriff, no doubt to accomodate the belt. A small peplum flare accented the narrow waistline, and the long, fitted sleeves ended in hidden zippers to insure a close fit to each wrist.
To her surprise, the big belt fit her perfectly as she wrapped it around her. A full five inches wide, the belt was contoured so that it allowed for a tapering effect above her waist. The leather-covered buckle reached from just under her breasts where the jacket lapels ended to her waist, drawing one's eye immediately to her waspish waist. Erika cinched it tight and buckled it, watching herself in the mirror as she did so. I could tell she was excited at the rather exotic image before her.
With perfect timing, no doubt from experience, the sales associate stepped forward to suggest an appropriate pair of shoes for the suit, a pair of black calf pumps with stiletto heels over five inches high. Erika routinely wears high heels and has mastered walking confidently in them, but these were an inch higher heel than she normally wore. The effect was stunning. The extreme arch of her foot as she balanced between toe and spike heel gave her calves the sleek lines men adore on a woman.
One might say at this point that such a suit simply isn't practical, but that's not the issue. We did buy the suit and the shoes with gloves to match, and Erika wore the outfit that very night to a fine restaurant that used to be a huge wine cellar. The entrance included a long flight of stairs leading down to the dining area. Erika's tight leather "hobble" skirt and stiletto heels made this a rather time-consuming trip as she held my arm for support and concentrated on negotiating the stairs. All eyes were on her as this vision in tight leather neared. After the meal, we stepped to the dance floor to the music of a small string orchestra. Slipping my arm around that belted waist and drawing her leather-clad body close, I caught a whiff of the aroma of fresh leather. As we gently moved to the sound of the strings, she pressed those tight-skirted hips against my hardness. For both of us, it was a night we'll not soon forget.
Ellie is one of the small but treasured minority of women who visit my page, and she left a message in my guestbook. We have exchanged a few emails since, and discovered that we share a love for early-Fifties fashions, especially the tailored-like-a-second-skin suits that were such a memorable part of the New Look. During the Easter holidays she was delighted to find that this style is still around:
[Webmaster's note - the suit in the picture is not one of the women Ellie saw, it's merely a picture I happen to have which she says is very like them apart from being somewhat shorter in the skirt.]
By the way the tight suit is not dead (thank goodness). I was vacationing in the desert (90 miles east of San Diego Cal. just north of Mexico) with friends and we stopped at a lovely and quite elegant resort for Easter lunch. We (my friends and I) were dressed somewhat casually, men in slacks, my girlfriends in spring and summer dresses. I had on a black sleeveless silk top and a long flowing flower print silk skirt and sandals (perfect for the desert). About half way through our meal a man in his early 60's arrived accompanied by two striking, simply elegant dark haired woman who appeared to be in their mid 40's. Both women were wearing 50's style VERY tight pale yellow, summer suits, skirts just below the knee , very high pumps, and almost garish Easter hats. I was as fascinated by their extreme outfits as by their almost haughty manner. I chuckled to myself as our male companions tried to feign indifference but kept stealing furtive glances as these two very tall and curvacious ladies promenaded past our table. I am tall and thin (skinny actually) and certainly not well endowed and I was a little envious of how wonderfully elegant these two ladies looked.
JB wrote in saying some very nice things about this page, and offering to send in stories. I was very keen on that, as stories are rare and much treasured, and he responded with this excellent account. It covers a theme which I've often talked about - how, with the help of a tight skirt, a woman can look very sexy without having to look "cheap" or "trashy" at the same time. Mrs JB obviously has a lot of sense and knows how to make the most of herself - but let JB tell the story...
I have been married for over a year now and I am very lucky to have a beautiful, loving, and open-minded wife. We have a very active sex life and have agreed that it will not involve any other people. My wife Marie has very long sexy legs (standing 5'8") and is very proud of her height. She started wearing short skirts with stockings and 3" heels to work again recently, and this of course sparked my interest. I convinced her to start wearing short and tight skirts, in addition to her other short skirts. This also went over well with employees, customers, and compliments from miscellaneous strangers.
A couple of months ago we had an opportunity to have an evening out with one of my friends whom she has a fondness for (physically and as a friend). This turned into an complete night of consuming alcohol, instead of the couple cocktails we planned on having. We decided to take a taxi home to our home since neither of us were sober enough to drive and we could easily get our vehicle the next morning since neither of us had societal obligations the next day. With this n mind we decided to get a few more drinks to consume at home. Marie wasn't wearing anything special that evening, just khaki's and a blouse. After having a few more drinks with our friend Rob, the conversation seemed to have a sexual tone to it. What the exact debate was, our friend Robert did not believe that a woman could dress sexy and look classy without looking "trashy" or "sluttish". At first I was rather embarrassed to have this conversation, but my wife seemed interested and wanted to prove her point, so then I became interested. I noticed that my friend Rob wanted a visual aid (an example of what my wife was talking about), but was afraid to ask. As my friend Rob went up to go to the bathroom, my wife proceeded to the bedroom. She shut the door, but the light was on. I asked if she was ok, then she replied with: "I am looking for something, I will be right out". So she waited for me to go to the bathroom to re-enter the living room where my friend Rob was sitting on the couch with a drink. This part I did not see, but this is what she told me occurred. He apparently did not notice what she was wearing at first. She switched into a nice tight black silk blouse and a plaid tight tweed skirt that was just above her knee. She was also wearing nude thigh high stockings with garters and 4" spiked black heels that she wears for special occasions (mostly at home). While Rob is sitting down and I am in the bathroom she puts her foot on the edge of the couch and asked him "if her stocking had a run in it and if they made her legs look more lean and tan"? He replied with "I am not sure". So she did it again. When I got out of the bathroom my eyes got big to what I saw! My wife with her leg extended on the couch and my friend massaging it. He panicked then I sat down. She said, "I took the liberty of proving my point. I did not think you would mind". And her assertion was correct I did not. We both massaged her nylon clad legs while she was wearing that tight skirt. She then went to go get us a couple of drinks bending over to pick things up in front of us and walking all around the living room. She then even sat between us, as her short tight skirt rode high enough that you could see the top of her stocking. She then did several poses and walked about the living room for us and finally asked Rob if he thought a woman could dress sexy and look classy without looking slutty? He replied with: "Yes apparently so"! We eventually crashed out and went to bed. This was the first of more future "tight short skirt teases" from my wife!
JB
An Israeli informant very keen to be anonymous sent in a story of basic training to earn a CD. My main impression of basic training is the first half of Full Metal Jacket: if the monstrous sergeant had been an hourglass lady in a too-tight blouse and skirt it might not have been much fun but at least there'd have been something pleasant to look at!
As most people know, Israel has compulsory military service for both men and women; but what you may be unaware of is that, although women do not serve in combat units, they do serve an active roll in all aspects of military training including in combat units.Such was it when I was drafted into the army a few years ago: after the initial processing we met our drill sergeant, Rivka, who was going to be in charge of us for several months-to make us soldiers- and also to teach us her specialty "War craft". Now Rivka was not spectacular looking-on a busy Israeli street she wouldn't have got a second glance- but she was very pretty in a Mediterranean style; dark olive skin, big black eyes, long black hair and a very curvy figure - large breasts, narrow waist, wide hips and a fairly large rear end. In the confines of the army, in an all male unit, she drove us crazy!
Rivka never started with any of the soldiers nor was over friendly; she was always too busy screaming at us to move, jump or whatever and then, with her characteristic sneer, punishing us when we (inevitably!) failed.
Our day started with a five o'clock inspection;We woke up and starting panicking like madmen trying to get all our equipment together and cleaned- uniform, kitbag,gun etc before the 5am deadline.We had to stand to attention as Sergeant Rivka arrived and prepare for inspection. By this time, we were already out of breath and sweating.And then she appeared in the parade ground - a complete picture of cool perfection - hair tied back in a tight knot, uniform cleaned and ironed and smelling as though she had just got out of a hot shower.By contrast we wore dirty, scruffy uniforms and smelt as if we had showered last week.And her uniform......Most women in the army wore baggy fatigue trousers and an oversize shirt, Rivka, by contrast, always (including during military exercises) wore her "dress" uniform - light khaki shirt and skirt - the shirt open two buttons and straining at the front and her skirt - just above knee level -also straining across the beam. The whole overall impression was of having been issued a uniform one size too small and resulting in a bursting-out effect.She also wore black,combat boots.
So there we were at inspection, getting our first wonderful look at Rivka, as she moved between us, checking our appearance and equipment ( no pun) from head to toe; also the state of our M16 guns.Having her walk slowly between us drove us wild - but, of course, any movement or taking was punished.
The big question for all of us was whether she was deliberately provoking us or was it innocent - as it appeared - and just her being a professional soldier - which she certainly was.
Punishment, given for any slight reason was a choice - the soldier chose - either 50 sit-ups or 25 pull-ups on a high bar. Both were terrible!For the sit-ups, Rivka stood, hands on hips, with one boot holding down the soldiers feet. As you rose to the upright position you where only a few centimeters from her crotch.For the pull-ups, she stood opposite you so that when you were up on the bar, your groin was only a few centimeters from her face.Both punishments where killers because:-all the other soldiers were watching and were allowed to laugh at you failings.you were dead scared to be caught staring at Rivka and with the potential of getting an erection.and it all together physically hurt.
As a result of her always wearing her dress uniform - even during our combat drills- we where treated to a daily flash of something, because as she jumped, crawled, shot or whatever some part of her clothing inevitably opened, came untucked, rode up or whatever, to expose a gorgeous segment of her anatomy. Us soldiers just stared at her body, until she finished and without any hurry or pretense at showing off, tucked herself in or buttoned up.
There are two types of people when they shot - those that do because they have to and there are those that love shooting.Rivka was definitely in the latter group.When we were learning how to shoot an M16, Rivka demonstrated shooting in the prone position- lying flat out with her legs slightly apart. An M16 can be fired either on single shot or fully automatic. Rivka was inevitably on "automatic", blasting away, magazine after magazine, but slowly sliding back with the recoil of the gun. She was going back and her skirt was going up! We were mesmerized. By the time she had finished four magazines, her skirt was up to her waist, fully exposing her panties (sensible and white).She finished, checked her gun ( always the soldier) pulled down her skirt and carried on screaming at us.
Another time, we were learning to throw a grenade;Sergeant Rivka demonstrated the correct technique and how to count before the grenade exploded.Having thrown her grenade down into a practice bunker, she returned to our position, opening her flak jacket as she walked - but with it, her shirt became unbuttoned. What a great sight (again, white and sensible).
We all finished basic training and I never saw Rivka again.but I still look for her(and her body) while walking 'round the streets in Israel.
"JP" sent me some general messages about how much he enjoyed the page. I responded with the usual material, and asked if he had a tight skirt reminiscence he could share with me. Usually this elicits no response, but he had plenty to say. He has given me permission to use it, and here it is.
It wasn't until I met my ex that did I realize I had an appreciation for miniskirts. The facination for heels and hose is another story. I had always thought women looked nice in short skirts and heels but that was about it
The first time we actually went out on a date she about knocked me out when I picked her up. There she stood, all decked out in black and with the shortest tightest skirt I had ever seen. I remember thinking to myself that I had seen women look like this but now I was going to be with one. From that point on I got a taste of her wardrobe every time I met her to go somewhere and my facination for miniskirts just continued to grow. The heels and hose was another thing that I was introduced to and I soon realized that those three items deffinately went together and were a work of art.
She knew that I liked seeing her in miniskirts and would always wear them for me. I would even take her shoping to buy them and help pick out the ones I liked. Just to see her walk in one or stand the way she did was a turn on.
I would always follow the curvature of the skirt with my hand against her rear and remember it until the next timre we would meet. I also found out that these skirts along with hose were made of different material and that some felt better than others adding to the pleasure of touch. When she would tell me over the phone what she was wearing for that particular day/evening I would always ask her how it felt. What would really drive me wild was being able to place my hand between her leg and skirt and feel the tightness of it all or the restrictiveness. From then on I was a hooked man for miniskirts.
The hose and heels fall along the same path and I have grown to appreciate them, also from the same women. I can reminiscence about those also, but I tried to stick with the skirt.
Now I'm a hooked man and can't seem to get enough. I have my particulars or favorites like everybody else does and as long as it doesn't consume me I guess it's okay.
I wrote back to appreciate this, with comments about the excitement of a curvaceous woman wearing a skirt packed to bursting point with feminine splendour, obliging her to move her hips alluringly as she walks - especially if she wears it with high heels.. He agreed:
Exactly! I understand what you mean about the tightness of a tight skirt. I think about it the same way. I too love the way it forces a woman to carry herself and knowing the restriction it places on her almost makes one wish that they were a part of that tightness that is being placed against the curvature of her body. Knowing that the seams are straining to hold her in tact and knowing that she feels it too. The way they make a women walk and what it does to her rear end forcing it to move with a controlled up and down side to side movement.
And when the skirt is a mini and tight with hose, well then I'm done for. I just love to see a womens legs encased in that restrictive material. As I mentioned about my ex. I love to place my hand between the bottom of the skirt and the leg. That is one feeling where you can imagine how the restrictiveness feels on her or what she may be feeling. I also like it when you can slightly see the tops of her lace stockings or the hem line of her pantyhose. Either will do.
Oh yes, the heels. I feel that any outfit is not complete without them. They too fall in the catagory of restrictiveness. A nice thin, sleek and towering heel that commands respect from the viewer and give the wearer authority. The way they force the wearer to walk and stand with here stance is a major turn on. To start at the tip of the toe and follow it with your finger or hand, slowly, and with a light touch and follow it all the way up the leg, going behind the knee and rubbing the back of the thigh with the whole palm and finally reaching the hem of the skirt. Knowing that that is where everything comes together for the complete picture.
"IMMARTYB" sent me unsolicited a substantial piece about how his wife's purchase of a tight leather skirt changed their own attitude to marriage. After a small enquiry for clarification and a little editing, here it is.
My wife and I have been married for over 15 years. We are both approaching our middle 40's and I consider us very conservative. One Saturday afternoon my wife went shopping with a friend and when she came home she told me she did something crazy. They had stopped into a fine leather shop and she got talked into buying a new outfit. She went upstairs and came back downstairs a few minutes later. I couldn't believe my eyes. She was wearing a tight black leather skirt. The hem came to just below her knees and you could tell the material was made of the finest lambskin leather. She also had on a shiny satin black blouse that fit a little snug. Since she still had a rather firm body, the blouse highlited her shape and breasts. This was totally out of character for her to wear, yet buy such an outfit. I of course approved.
I told her that she looked marvelous in the outfit and told her that I would take her to dinner that night if she wore the tight skirt and blouse. She accepted the invitation. I made us reservations at a rather fancy restaurant that evening. Shortly before we were to leave she came downstairs in the new outfit and it looked even better when she complimented it with mid-black nylons and her high heeled shoes. She looked very attractive and in a way I never saw her before. We went to dinner and I couldn't help but notice how the men would glance at her. Something I never paid attention to before. A little streak of jealousy came over me as well as my arousal for her and how she looked. She also sensed the attention and seemed to enjoy it. We had a very nice dinner and drank a bottle of wine with the meal. On the way home I noticed the aroma of her tight leather skirt which aroused me even more. I couldn't wait until we got home. During the trip home I began to rub my hand on her tight leather and the feel of the soft lambskin, along with the material of her nylon stockings just made me shiver. She knew and sensed how much her outfit turned me on. She repaid my affection by rubbing my leg and the next thing I knew we pulled into a shopping center parking lot and made love. We hadn't done that since we dated.
Since that night I have had a special affection for my wife and have seen her in a different, sexy and sensual way. She has since purchased two other leather skirts (one shorter and one longer). We now have found other things in our lives to do that we would have never thought to do. We would go to bars and I would pick her up. We would go to parties and she would tease the men. Life seems to be more fun now. I love to walk or look behind her when she walks because the tightness of the skirt is most noticeable around her rear end.
"JJ" wrote in with a true story after reading the other reminiscences here. Here is his account of his English teacher, someone I am sure I would have liked to learn from:
At the end of middle school a 13-year-old kid is bound to have a crush on a teacher here or there. The hormones are starting to run wild, and for me, who had appreciated the female form for several years already, the sight of a pair of great legs in a nice tight skirt and heels becomes almost overpowering. My 8th grade english and reading teacher was everything a new teenager could ask for. She loved skirts, and I loved her for it. They were just tight enough to show off her trim figure, and always came down just below her knees; very sheer and sexy. She was very prim and proper, keeping her hair and makeup neat but not too flashy, and wearing shirts and blouses with her skirts and made her look very smooth and elegant. The greatest part, something I will never forget, is when she sat down. No matter if she was wearing her usual T-length skirt or a long pleated one, she would pull it up several inches above her knees everytime she sat down. Her legs, of course, were to die for. Perfectly proportioned in every way; from her petite feet to her supple calves to her shapely thighs, I would do everything I could just to catch a glimpse of them. And they both fit so neatly in those skirts. Ahhh...those incredible skirts... I still have dreams about her. Or, should I say, I still have daydreams about her...
Our next piece is a detailed
account of a 1950s fashion show, which to lovers of the New Look style
like me is like a first-hand account of da Vinci painting the Mona Lisa.
Jim B, who was lucky enough to experience this himself in his youth, kindly
wrote it out for me, but it is too long to splice in here, so I have given
his piece its own page. Click here to see more:
The Fashion Show, by Jim B
AB wrote in to say how delighted he was to see a page discussing 1950s fashions with their pencil skirts, that being one of the joys of his youth, for he is old enough to have seen at first hand the things I have only read about in fashion-histories and admired in films. He sent several reminiscences dealing with his beloved long pencil skirt style, and again they were so long that I couldn't include them here. I have put them on a separate page:
Reminiscences of tight skirts in the 1950s and more recently by AB:
Correspondent Jamie, who shares my interest in old-time fashion and corsetry, sent a reminiscence of a woman friend in the Seventies who liked to wear an extremely tight suit. As I am particularly fond of close-tailored suits for several reasons I begged permission to post it, and it was granted:
I think I mentioned before a woman friend of mine who liked to wear corduroy. She had a suit with fitted jacket and mid-calf skirt (about 1976) and it fitted without a single crease. She didn't wear corsets but always firm girdles and corselettes, which held her smooth and solid. I still dream about it and her. She preferred not to sit in that suit because it put such a strain on the stitches and zips. She wore it once to a party but insisted on taking it in a bag and putting it on after we got there. I helped her and she was most particular about the set and pull of her girdle and long bra, and the tension in her stockings. This is still the stuff of fantasies for me. The suit was almost like a body corset over her underwear: it was so tight and strong.
Lisa wrote in to me after reading MK's story of Laura, saying it reminded her of something in her own life. She wanted to be put in touch with MK; unfortunately he has long ceased answering my messages, and when I told him that a lady reader wanted to contact him I got no reply. However, I encouraged her to discuss it with me if she wanted, talking about how many of my readers belong to a minority who find it more exciting to see a woman dressed to their taste rather than wearing little or nothing. This struck a chord with her:
I happen to agree with you, women can be covered up and yet still
be very sexy. I am twenty seven now and it took till only recently for
me to realize this. I never dressed trashy, but I was always thought men
preferred less. That I think, for the most part only holds true for younger
men.
I happen to be at a point in my life now where many changes are happening
for me. I'm feeling much more confident about myself and sexuality. I have
spent the last ten years dating the same man, in those ten years, I have
had only one other lover. He is the one responsible for opening me up emotionally
and sexually. Time spent with him was quite an experience, he made me feel
special. I'm sure the it was the best lovemaking I will ever know.
His biggest turn on was business attire. Business attire such as, form
fitted dresses and skirts, tailored suits and of course the final touch,
a nice pair of heels. He preferred clothes that were revealing of a woman
and the structure of her body. Clothes, I believe that hugged the curves.
Oh yes, and loved pantyhose on a lady. He was very pleased with all of
it and I wanted nothing less than to please him. The look in his eye was
all it took for me.
Periodically he would make me aware of the fact that it was hard to keep
his mind on work. The desire was there for both of us.
It wasn't all physical, much of it was emotional but I could never speak
about it to anyone and this will be the way to get it out. Sorry......where
I'm going with all of this is that I think that is why I particularly like
MK's story. It reminded me of him. There is nothing wrong with dressing
sexy and there is nothing wrong with a man enjoying it.
"HR" who has written in before several times responded after I had sent him a story about tight jeans with an account of an anniversary dinner that sounds memorable for him, though probably his wife was eager to forget it!
Since my wife wanted to renew our wedding vows, wearing a white dress.
We went to Sears the day before and after hunting for a considerable length
of time, managed to locate a nice looking white dress almost in her size.
And the only one in the entire store that was even close to what she wanted.
We purchased the dress and took it home without her actually trying it
on. So on the big day, she squeezed into it, discovering that she should
have gotten the next bigger size. But with no time to exchange it, even
if they had had one the right size, she put it on, and off we went.
The ceremony went fine, altho I had to assist her up the steps to the alter
at the church because the dress was so tight, and it got somewhat interesting
when we knelt to take communion, and I had to help her up again.
Fortunately for her, everything held together through the ceremony, but
once at the potluck reception afterward, once she got seated, she wouldn't
get out of the chair.
Still the dress was holding though, but as we were leaving the party, she
went to step up into the cab of my pickup, and there was a single pop.
Whereupon the rear seam of the dress, from the hem to the waistband split
wide open! It was then that I realized just how tight that dress had been
because now it looked more like an apron, revealing the entire back of
her silky white halfslip.
I had to let her use my jacket to tie around her waist when we got home
so she could get from the truck into the house without giving all our neighbors
a show.
From this point you'll have to use your own imagination, cause that's as
far as I'm going with it.
RW wrote in with a story he humbly asked if I could use. I was delighted with it, and said so. This shows off a point I have often made in email conversation: that by choosing a tightly tailored suit, a woman can look feminine and sexy without having to sacrifice respect in the business world.
Recently I was asked if I could do an errand to help my friend's
boss. The boss was female, and she phoned me up wanting help for lifting
photocopiers and distributing into different offices. Fair enough! The
next morning I waited for the boss, she pulled up in a multi- mover (station
wagons)She was not what I expected.
She was blonde, blue eyed ,late30s/early40s, young looking with a smooth
Irish accent. She was wearing a black suit jacket, purple silk blouse,
tight black calf-length skirt, black tights and black heels. She drove
me off into hercar, and we introduced ourselves to each other. I couldn't
help noticing her shapely, and muscular legs under the denier. When we
got to the head office I was asked to help carry the photocopiers and software,
I thought I was going to be doing this with another bloke, luckily she
was helping me. this time, she took off her jacket, I noticed her firm
buttocks and the trace of VPL underneath her skirt. She called me over
to help lift some heavy equipment, her taut thighs and calves strained
underneath the cotton and lycra prison of her skirt and tights as she crouched
down, as we both lifted, I couldn't help noticing how strong she was I
bet she works out, I thought. I've secretly admired strong, sporty women
such as gymnasts, bodybuilders, dancers even women footballers.
when we both put everything in the lift, she came in the lift with me I
noticed the tab button on the back of her skirt was undone. I asked myself,
why? was the skirt too tight for her or did she forget to button it when
she got dressed or when she came out of the loo?
We unloaded the equipment on to the mover and drove off. She seemed a nice
person, we shared jokes and she told me she had two young children of herown.
Strangely she didn't mention husband or partner? Usually women often mention
a man in their life to ward men off.
We got to our destination and we unloaded from the car and we both carried
the equpment into the lift. My eye was still on the undone button, I was
too embarrassed to inform her, I stared at the zip (I like playing with
zips, unzipping and zipping them up) and the VPL underneath her skirt,
wondering what panties was she wearing? I had an urge to ping her VPL or
pinch her firm derrier, but I braced myself! When we got to the top floor
we unloaded, everytime she crouched, her thigh muscles strained the seams
of her skirt, she looked like if she was going to burst, and I felt the
same way, too!
We got back into the lift. I felt like saying to her that she had gum or
a stain on the back of her skirt, just for an excuse to feel her firm butt,
but that would probably end me in a sex harassment case! As soon as we
were in the car, she drove off, she looked feminine yet she had such masculine
qualities which I admired. Even the way she drove, her heels pushing firmly
on accelerator, her thighs apart, there was too much temptation! I wanted
to run my hand over her flexed calves. I'm not surprised her tights weren't
laddered by now!
It was time for her to pick up her children from school. I briefly met
them and then she took me back to base where she paid me for my trouble.
I said to her if you need any help just call me! I hope she does!
SM sent three interesting stories about his memories of tight skirt fashion. Like AB's stories, they were too long put together to fit on this page, so I gave them a page of their own:
Reminiscences of tight skirts in the 1950s and more recently by SM:
Distinguished artist and contributor Biker sent me an illustration he had made to a story a lady friend had told him. It was too delicious to miss, and after some further discussion he got her to tell the story in detail and her permission for me to post it, then sent it on with two illustrations. Again they were too good to waste but too big to fit on this page, so I gave the story and its drawings a page to themselves:
The Banker Babe and her Bursting Blouse (copiously illustrated by "Biker")
"tight denim-skirt", who lives on the Pacific Rim, contacted me after a relative of hers had been in touch. Both, like me, are admirers of the "mermaid" style of skirt, tight to the knees or calves and then flaring out. This is apparently fashionable in places like Hong Kong and Malaysia, and indeed she introduced me to a beautiful traditional Malay costume called the kebaya which consists of a short, tightly fitted top and a long mermaid-style skirt, but that is another story. Her relative had already told me how she married in an outrageously sexy and glamorous tight rubber mermaid gown, and that one of her guests worn a similar tight mermaid-dress; "tight denim-skirt" was that guest.
It was sunrise in sunny Sydney and i was excited. My relative was
getting married and I was like the bridesmaid, going to be squeezed into
a stunning skintight dress.
I showered and freshened up, and the time I had waited all month had arrived.
I opened my wardrobe, admired the abundance of tight skirts I have, and
walked towards my favourite item - the blue skintight fishtail tube dress.
I felt my hormones run high just looking at it. The sleeves and top half
of the dress is so skintight that I had a bit of trouble putting it on.
The material felt good and the smell of rubber was very seductive.
By the time I had the dress half onto my body, I began to feel the tightness
creeping into my bones. It stretches voluptously around my hips and thighs,
and flares slightly towards the bottom. The moment I had the dress on fully,
I ran my hands over my second skin - the feeling was passionate and sensation.
With a pair of 5 inche high heels, it was a stunning piece, and I had to
hold the hand rails getting down the stairs as the skirt was so tight it
only had room for small steps.
I had a good time on that day, wiggling in that little piece which turned
many heads.
"Festus" told me he had stories to tell and I enthusiastically asked him to tell them. He eventually sent enough that I felt it was right to give them their own page:
Reminiscences of tight skirts past and present by "Festus":
"Swiss Donald" wrote in with a story explaining how a tight skirt can get in the way of a lady's good intentions while giving everyone else a treat:
Just yesterday I saw a woman on stage at a party, who was trying to help someone getting up on the stage. Therefore she was standing with her legs a bit apart in her already tight skirt. Suddenly she slipped away with one foot and lost her balance, and you could really hear the skirt splitting up her back slit to the butt. The woman was checking with her hand at her skirt and after that she would only stand with her front side to the public till she got an opportunity to change her skirt during a break in the show. So later on she wore a gray skirt instead of the black one she ripped apart. ooooh, what a pity I didn't have a camera!
"Slipper" enjoyed reading the text page, and wrote in with a story of a tight skirt adventure he swears is absolutely true!
"Chris" left this story in the guestbook, and gave me permission to post it.
True story: A few weeks ago I was shopping in our local supermarket, bored out of my head, when I noticed a lady, in her fifties, wearing a light blue, very tight short skirt. I saw her a couple of times as we moved around the store and we both arrived at the freezer section at the same time. She was standing with her back to me looking in the displays.
She had a magnificent pair of legs and a very nice bum.
A second later, I was reduced to a gibbering wreck as she bent right over to get at the last packet of fish fingers or something, at the very bottom of the freezer. All was revealed.
In September 2003 I was astounded when Tim sent in the following story. This is a classic tight skirt scenario, one I and others have often written into stories. The difference is that not only had Tim seen it himself, he actually had photographic evidence of it!
This size 12 silk skirt had no chance on a size 14+ rear. This truly happened at a house warming party. I was in the right place at the right time.
You could see her panty lines very distictly. She bent over a couple of times in front of me and I could see her skirt straining and the silk fabric separating. She and I were the only ones in the room when it happened. No one saw me taking pictures of her rear. When it burst open, I thought I was going to die. She was very embarrassed. She grabbed a pillow and left the party quickly along with her husband. Lucky man.
JH wrote in with the following tale just before I decided to stop work on the page in January 2005. He had read my own reminiscences and considered himself a fellow enthusiast. After reading his stories I agree that we definitely have a lot in common!
I have heard you comment before on 1980s fashions and school experiences. My first story is this: as a 14 year old boy, just beginning to notice girls, I would have an interesting experience on the way to school each day. This would have been about 1990/1991. A sixth form girl(aged between 16-18) used to catch my school bus every day during that period. She was blonde,very attractive, and would always be wearing her black school jumper and a very tight grey school skirt which finished just above the knee. She would always get on the bus late on when it was very crowded, and would have to stand near the front. I cannot tell you how many times I sat in one of the front seats behind where she stood, and found myself fascinated by the curve of her bottom underneath the tight grey material, the stretch and the line of the seams. This seriously turned me on, and I can only assume this is the reason for my fetish and why women dressed like this attract me. I know from your website that I am not alone.
My second true experience came only a few months ago. I attended a recruitment interview day in Lincoln. One of the recruitment personnel women was a lady called "Louise"(I will spare this marvellous woman any embarassment). She was reasonably attractive, in her late 20s, with dark brown hair tied back in a bun, slim build with spectacles. But to my distraction, she stood at the front of the audience wearing a white blouse and a very tight navy blue skirt that finished just below the knee too. I mean, it was quite tight, when she bent down to pick up materials she had some difficulty, and I knew that I might be easily distracted from the real reason I was there!
Anyway, to my delight I had my 1 to 1 personal interview with her. She sat behind the desk for most of the interview and I gave my performance without thinking about her attractiveness or what she was wearing. But the most exciting moment came when she stood up to end the interview and shake my hand. She got up and her skirt was so tight it was obviously giving her a bit of trouble. She gave a little: "ooh" as she got to her feet. She immediately straightened her skirt and smiled at me. Whether it was a come on, or the skirt was so tight she genuinely reacted like that and was embarassed, I don't know, but afterwards I thought about it and it was a great moment. As I walked out, she was taking a break from the interviews, and I couldn't help turning round to watch as she swept through the reception area, that clingy skirt emphasising a wonderful behind and nice slim legs.For tight skirt connoiseurs like yourself I know you will appreciate me relating this story.
So now we have plenty of pieces. I've told how I became interested in tight skirts, and some other readers have agreed to let me post their stories for you all to read. Anyone else have something to contribute?
