Since this forum has been quite quiet lately, i thought i would post a new story about when i recently went into town in black opaques without any shoes. i hope you enjoy reading it.
A couple of months ago, I was just milling around the house, doing some tidying in a pair of denim shorts and new black opaque tights plus a casual vest top whilst Tom was at work. Around lunch time Tom phoned me up and we ended up having quite a good long chat which started to get a bit dirty. The conversation finished with Tom daring me to go out to town, which he new I was planning on doing, but without any shoes, as he new what tights I was wearing and told me just knowing I was out there with no shoes would drive him crazy, even if he couldn’t be with me.
Eventually I agreed, as going out totally shoeless was not something I had never done before, I just hadn’t done it in quite a long time, especially into town during the day, and Tom had promised to make it ‘worth my while’ though I was not sure how. After the phone call, I sat down to have some lunch and kept looking down at my feet and legs in my tights, which were a good quality 70 denier pair that were really smooth and had a lovely shine to them, and I found myself feeling rather horny, though a bit nervous, at the prospect of going out in them without any shoes at all.
Once I had eaten my lunch I got myself ready for going into town, putting a bit of make-up on and grabbing a cardie in case it got cold. Quarter of an hour later I was ready and grabbed my handbag on my way out the door in my tighted feet, thankful that it was quite a mild day and nice and dry. I got in my car and set off with my shiny black feet working the pedals and began to feel really nervous, wondering if I should at least take some shoes with me just in case, even if I don’t wear them, as if I have shoes with me it at least looks like I have just slipped them off as opposed to gone out without any.
In the end I braved it and after a short while I found myself pulling into the multi-storey car park. I got my ticket and parked up about halfway along on the fourth floor, which gave me a good distance to walk just to get back out of the car park. I sorted myself out and tried to relax before getting out of the car as I was still really nervous, and rather excited. I then got out of my car, swinging my silky smooth legs round and placing my nyloned feet on the smooth concrete and looked down at them as I wiggled my toes, causing my tights to wrinkle slightly. After a few seconds I stood up, and whilst I was still stood between the cars I bent down and pulled my tights up properly right from my toes up to the waistband which came right up past the tops of my shorts to my belly button. Once my tights were sorted, I straightened out my top, ensuring it was covering the tops of my tights and then slowly began the walk across the smooth concrete to the stairwell. As I walked across, three cars passed me and I don’t know if it was me being paranoid, but I am convinced all the car occupants were staring at my feet as they slowly drove past me and I could imagine what they were saying about me.
It took about a minute, if that, to reach the stair well, and as soon as I went through the door I could hear voices and footsteps getting closer. The floor was made up of those really smooth tiles like they have in shopping malls and felt really cold through my thick black tights and I found myself sliding my feet along the smooth floor as opposed to walking properly. As I began to slowly walk down the stairs, the voices and footsteps were getting louder, and just as I got to the first landing a group of 4 teenage girls, two of whom were wearing skirts and black opaques with ballet flats, and the other two in jeans, appeared at the next landing and straight away I saw their eyes go down to my shoeless feet. I expected them to say something from the way they were looking, but they didn’t, not to me anyway, though with all the giggling I heard after, I am sure they were talking about me once they had passed. As I continued down the stairs I passed at least another dozen people of all ages, and most of them seemed to have a good look at my feet as they passed though nobody said anything to me about my shoeless state.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I stopped at the door, having final second thoughts about stepping out as this was the point of no return so to speak, but before I had any time to reconsider, an attractive young man pulled the door open and held it open for me, saying, “After you.” as he looked me up and down. I thanked him and stepped out into the busy street, thinking to myself, ‘well you’re here now, let’s do it’. The pavement was quite rough underfoot and I could feel it snagging at my expensive tights and thought about the damage it would be doing to them. As I made my way up the busy footpath to the pedestrian precinct, I was still convinced that everyone was staring at my shoeless feet as they passed me but I was actually starting to feel quite relaxed about it and was just having to concentrate on where I walked, making sure I didn’t stand on anything unpleasant or that anyone stood on my feet.
Once I was up in the precinct I sat down on a bench and lit up a cigarette. As I smoked I sat cross legged, gently swinging my hosed left foot about as I admired how good my legs and feet looked in my tights, which were shining really well in the bright sun light. About half way through my smoke a good looking lad, dressed in a suit, who must have been in his twenties, sat down on the bench next to me and for a minute he just sat there in silence, though I could see his eyes drawn to my shoeless foot as I flexed it about, causing my tights to wrinkle slightly round the ankle. He then plucked up the courage to speak and asked me how I was doing. I told him I was fine and we went on to introduce ourselves and made general conversation, though all the time he was struggling to keep his eyes on me as they kept looking back down at my tighted foot. I finished my cigarette and after a minute he pulled out a pack and offered me one. I said I shouldn’t as I had just put one out but took it anyway, knowing that the only reason he had offered was to keep me there longer.
The conversation carried on and eventually, when it was obvious he was fascinated by my shoeless feet, I said to him, “Just ask me, I know you want to.” He looked at me, slightly puzzled or embarrassed, I’m not sure which, and then I said, “My shoes, your wondering where they are aren’t you?” He then stared down at my feet before looking at me and telling me I was right. I told him that I had left them at home and when he asked me why I just told him that I am not a fan of wearing shoes and enjoyed walking round without them. The chat continued with him commenting on the damage it must do to my tights but that he thinks it is great that I have got the guts to go out without shoes, not caring what others think. I told him it wasn’t actually that easy and that normally I do have shoes with me but thought I’d risk it without today and was feeling really nervous about it. We spoke for a few more minutes, finishing off with him handing me a card with his details on it and me informing him that I was married but he could get in touch with me via email if he wished.
Eventually we got up off the bench and he walked with me up the precinct until I got to a large pharmacy/shop I wanted to go in. We said our goodbyes and then I walked into the store and again started to feel really nervous about going in in my tighted feet. The shop floor was nice and smooth after the abrasive pavement and my silky tights slid easily over it, allowing me to not pick my feet up as I went round. I spent a good fifteen minutes in this store, enjoying sliding around its polished floor as I went round the aisles and when I got to the checkout I was behind a woman in a business suit who must have been in her thirties and average looking. She turned to look at me as I queued behind her and when she saw that I had no shoes on she appeared to turn her nose up at me and turn away. I smiled to myself as I thought what a stuck up cow she was and that I hoped her feet were killing her in her pointy heels.
By this time I was feeling quite relaxed and once I had paid for my goods I confidently walked out the store and back into the precinct. I carried on up the road, looking in several shop windows, and decided to brave going into a clothes store that I liked. This store was carpeted and felt really nice and soft under my tighted feet and I started to browse around at what was on offer. After a few minutes a nice looking girl came up to me and asked if I needed any help. She was wearing a short black skirt with jet black opaque tights, which were very wrinkled around her slim ankles and little peep toe flats and introduced herself as Jenny. I said to her that I was okay and that I was just looking and Jenny then asked me outright where my shoes were. I again told her that I had left them at home and she said that that was a really brave thing to do, and that she wouldn’t dare to go out with out any shoes, though she does take them off sometimes when out if her feet are hot. She then added that she wished she could take her shoes off now as her feet were killing her from being stood up all day, but that her boss would never let her.
We spoke for a couple more minutes as I continued to browse, with Jenny eventually discreetly slipping off her little flats after a little encouragement from me. She slid her shoes under a rail out of sight and followed me round the store, digging her toes into the soft carpet as I had a good look at her beautiful little feet in her thick tights, which I suspect were probably a bigger size than she needed as they were so wrinkled and totally opaque over her toes. Whilst talking to Jenny, I got the perfect opportunity to inspect the wrinkled soles of my tights when she asked me about the damage that I do to them without my shoes, and I was pleased to see that they were quite roughed up but had no holes in them, and there was a lighter dusty coloured perfect footprint on the bottoms of both feet.
I ended up buying a few things from Jenny’s shop, including a couple of new pairs of black tights, which Jenny joked about me needing by time I was finished in town, as she served me while still in just her tights, seemingly forgetting that her shoes were still over at the other side of the store. I then thanked Jenny and headed off out of the shop feeling really relaxed and rather horny after watching Jenny’s jet black feet for the last twenty minutes or so.
I carried on wandering around the precinct for the next hour or so, just strolling along nice and slowly and enjoying the feeling of the pavement snagging at my thinning tights, and browsing around the occasional store that caught my eye. By now I was oblivious to the looks I was getting off people, though a couple more girls did comment on my shoeless state in other stores, mainly telling me they were jealous as their feet were hot or hurting or both. Eventually I headed into the shopping centre (mall) and once again enjoyed the feeling of just being able to slide my feet about on the smooth tiled floor which felt nice and cool through my tights.
I again went into the occasional shop, sometimes just to browse and sometimes to buy and in one particular shop I saw a lovely dress that I wanted. I took the dress into the changing rooms and used the opportunity to check the state of my tights. I was pleased to see that both feet, as well as being dirty, now had a hole, about 2 cm across right under the heel, plus my right foot also had a hole, about 1 cm across under the ball of my foot. None of the holes had laddered much though because the thick nylon was so roughed up, but I still felt really horny when I saw the state of them, especially as my dirty feet could clearly be seen through the holes in my tights.
After trying the dress on, I pulled my tights up again as they had started to slip and then sat in the changing room in just my tights for a minute, having another really good look at the state of the ruined nylon and playing with them in front of the full length mirror, turning myself on more and more, and before I even realised what I was doing, I stuck my finger right through my tights right over my right knee, making a hole about 2 cm or so across. The hole laddered slightly straight away, but not content with this, I bent my leg so the nylon stretched over my knee, causing the hole to ladder even more and then I started pulling at my tights until the 2 cm wide ladder went right down the front of my shin to my ankle as well as right up the middle of my thigh. Seeing this turned me on no end, and I rummaged through my hand bag until I found my tweezers which I then used to put a small hole through my tights right at the back of my left heel. I played with my tights around the hole, pulling at the thick nylon and causing the hole to ladder round under my heel and then right up the back of my ankle until it came halfway up my calve. As I did this, I found myself teasing my pussy through my tights until they were dripping wet.
I had to force myself to stop as I was getting carried away and then I put my shorts and top back on before looking in the full length mirror to get a good look at the state of my tights. I stood posing in the mirror for a minute, admiring the ladders and holes in my tights, which were all clearly visible in the thick black nylon, and then casually walked across the shop to the till to pay for my dress, knowing full well that the girl who served me had clearly seen me go into the changing rooms in tights without ladders in them, and who now, was looking at the state of my badly laddered tights and no doubt wondering what I had been up to.
Once I had paid for the dress I decided to head back out of the shopping centre and go for a coffee at the Starbucks in the precinct, but before I had even made it outside I saw Nicola, who is a girl I used to work with and a good friend, coming towards me. I instantly became quite nervous again as there was no way I would be able to avoid her seeing me in my ruined tights and no shoes. As she approached me, Nicola gave a big smile and I smiled back as I watched her eyes looking down at my legs and feet. We hugged and said our hellos, closely followed by her asking the obvious about my shoes, or lack of, and the state of my tights.
I thought about lying to her and telling her my shoes had broke but ended up just telling her that I had come out without any shoes. She told me I was absolutely mad, which I agreed with, and then carried on by telling her that my tights were already laddered, though not wearing shoes obviously hadn’t done them any favours. Nicola then asked me where I was headed and when I told her I was off to Starbucks she said she would join me. As we walked, Nicola carried on about how she couldn’t believe that I had come out without any shoes, but added that it didn’t surprise her that much with me as she remembers countless times on nights out where I had been in my stockinged feet, as well as in the office where we used to work.
When we got to Starbucks, I sat outside, facing into the precinct, while Nicola went and got our cappuccinos before joining me at the table. As earlier, I sat cross legged, with my right leg over my left, and as I swung my foot about, Nicola saw the ruined sole of my tights. She laughed as she commented on the holes in them and I lifted my foot up to see for myself as well as to show her properly, and I saw that the hole in the heel had opened up more, so that it was about 3 or 4 cm wide, exposing just about the whole of my filthy heel. Whist we were both laughing at my ruined tights I also noticed that two young lads, who were sat at the next table a couple of metres up from us, were also looking straight at us as I played with the ruined nylon over my right foot.
We sat and talked as we drunk our coffees and after 5 minutes or so my mobile rang. I saw that it was Tom calling and when I answered it he asked me where I was. He then told me that he had managed to finish work early and would come and meet me in town if I wanted. I told him that that would be fine and that I would stay at Starbucks for him. Once Nicola and I had finished our drinks she said that she had to shoot off, so after saying our goodbyes I went and got myself another drink and sat back outside. As I waited for Tom I played with my nyloned feet and legs, rubbing them against the pavement and purposefully sitting with one or the other of my tatty soles on full view to everyone who walked passed me as I stroked my hand up and down the ladder in my right thigh, causing it to go right up to the re-inforced band which could just be seen below the leg of my shorts.
Tom arrived about fifteen minutes later, and after admiring my ruined tights he got himself a coffee and sat with me, unable to take his eyes off my legs and feet as we talked. I teased him by putting my feet up on the edge of his chair, allowing him to stroke my toes and tatty soles and he told me that he couldn’t believe I had actually come out without my shoes, and was doubly impressed when I told him how and when I had got the ladders in the legs of my tights.
After our coffees, Tom asked if we could go back into the shopping centre and admitted it was more so that he could see me walking about in my tatty tights in public than anything else. I told him it was fine and that I was really enjoying myself now anyway and we set off back down the precinct. As we walked I became more and more aware of the ruined soles of my tights as it started to feel more and more like I was barefoot than tighted foot as the holes became larger.
In the shopping centre I could feel the cold tiles against my feet, without much nylon to protect them, and decided that my tights really had just about had it. I didn’t mention anything to Tom, but told him that I needed the loo and disappeared into the public toilets. I went into a cubicle and slipped my shorts off and had one last good look at my trashed tights and then got out one of the brand new pairs I had just bought. Once I had opened them up, I slipped off my old tights and put the new ones on and found that they were just as smooth and shiny, and slightly thicker. I then sat down on the loo and ripped a hole over my right knee and laddered it up and down my leg, trying to make it look as near identical to the old pair as I could. Then, using my tweezers again, I put a hole right in the back of my left heel, and pulled at my tights till they laddered up the back of my calf, as well as right under the middle of my foot to the re-inforced toe. When I was happy that my new tights matched the old pair, I slipped my shorts back on, stuffed my ruined tights in my handbag, and went back out to Tom.
Even though I had done my best to match my new tights, Tom noticed straight away that I had changed them, and joked that he didn’t know you could buy pre-laddered tights, though he did approve of them. I told him why I had changed them an said that at least this way, he gets to see them as they get damaged as we had plenty more shopping to do and I am sure my new tights wont last.
We spent a little while longer browsing around the shopping centre before heading back out to the precinct where we took the opportunity to sit down for a cigarette, which gave Tom a good chance to watch my sexy little feet in my thick black tights as I rubbed them gently on the pavement so that we could hear the nylon snagging against the smooth concrete. We then carried on wandering about, going in and out of shops, and every now and then, when we were stopped, I would discreetly lift my feet up just enough to show Tom my wrinkled soles. In one clothes shop when I did this, Tom told me that my left heel now had a small hole in it, right in the ladder under my foot, though my right was still intact, for now, and I knew he would be incredibly turned on at this.
It only took about another ten minutes of walking outside before my tights wore through on my right heel and a small hole developed, whilst the left one continued to grow in the laddered material. We continued shopping for a while longer and then decided to have a Macdonalds before heading home which I found to be quite exciting, though also slightly intimidating, as there were a lot of young kids and teenagers in there and my tighted feet were in full view of the restaurant, but with chatting away to Tom I had little time to worry about other people and what they thought.
Once we had eaten, we decided that it was time to head home as my feet, and two pairs of tights, had received more than enough punishment for one day. As we walked back to the car park I told Tom that, once I had got over my nerves, I had really enjoyed myself walking around town in my tights, and that it had been a big turn on having no shoes with me. Tom said that he was really glad that I had enjoyed it and that he had been really turned on just knowing I had been out without shoes, even before he got to town to see it for himself, and he asked me if I would be tempted to do it again, and not necessarily just in black tights. I replied that I would definitely do it again, and semi-promised to him that next time, if he came with me, I may even consider wearing either coloured, or even white tights, that would show up the dirt nicely on the soles for every one to see.
As soon as we got home Tom was all over me, ripping off my top and shorts so that I was in just my tights and I smothered him with my filthy tatty soles, forcing him to lick my feet and suck on my toes till my tights were soggy, before allowing him to rip my tights to shreds as he fucked me as hard as he could.
Since this, I did indeed keep my promise to Tom, when a couple of weeks later I wore a pair of beautiful baby blue opaque tights into town, again with my denim shorts. Tom was with me and as before I left all shoes at home and since it was a Saturday it was even busier than before. My tights did not take long to get a perfect dirty footprint on the bottom of each foot and after a couple of hours of walking around town with no shoes on, when my tights were pretty ruined, I went into the toilets to change them and surprised Tom by coming back out in a pair of brilliant white brand new opaques which also ended up filthy and ruined by the time we got home.
A new story
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