Of Time and Pantyhose


Whenever I pull on pantyhose, I think of Ron.  Ron, one of my first serious lovers…what’s he doing now, I wonder?  

Anyway, Ron had a beard, and the reason he had a beard was not so he would look like a pensive professor, which he was, or a disheveled lumberjack, which he was not, but because he was so damn analytical.  And he was afraid of time, its passage, its fleeting nature.  If he’s dead now, and he could well be for all I know, his fear would of course have been justified (he would have laughed if he had heard me say that!).

So one day he threw all his razors away – or rather, frugal guy that he was, asked if I wanted them for my legs and underarms – and announced that he would never shave again.  At five minutes a day, he calculated, over the course of an average American male lifetime, he would have wasted close to 100 days looking in the mirror shaving.  Shaving!  He spit the word with disgust.

How many days have I – will I have – wasted pulling on and peeling off pantyhose?

About Joy Saint James

Day job in Big Banking. Elsewhere I'm @ScholarlySlut, whose essays and erotica have appeared in various print anthologies and websites. Email: joy.st.james@hotmail.com.

5 responses to “Of Time and Pantyhose

  1. straw walker

    Pantyhose and I thought you were old fashioned. I would of took you for a stocking and garter belt kinda girl..

  2. Dennis

    thank you my loveing sister for shareing

  3. days wasted? no no no! I think it’s time well spent .. but please don’t stop shaving!

  4. But you probably spent only half the time you would have messing with pantyhose as opposed to wearing stockings and garters. Of course for some things then you could just leave to stockings on. Please 🙂

  5. Ok I’ll share. Years ago I was in the Army and they sent me to Panama City, Panama. It was hot and humid as fuck and we went directly to the field and it sucked…We were out for about a week and we came back and had a weekend off… Saturday morning most of the men took off and headed for the watering holes and the woman in the city. I decided to sleep in….When I woke up there wasn’t a soul in site. I was laying there in the barracks covered in just a sheet and my own perspiration… The sheet was clinging to me and pulled against me with every move I made…. I pulled the sheet off expecting a chill as the wet sheet left my skin exposed but it was sweltering and I felt nothing but the beads of sweat rolling down my cheats and abs… I stood up and wrapped a towel around me, grabbed my shaving kit and headed to the showers… It was a giant old colonial building with huge white sinks and from the third floor I should see the jungle we had spent a week in as I walked…. When I got to the mirrors I could see the weeks growth of beard and knew it would pull as I shaved but I knew it would pull less today then it would Monday so I resolved to do it…. Not a soul was there. I had all the time in the world instead of a dozen guys trying to get in and out all at once. I filled the sink with water and left the water running. I took two hands full of water and pulled it to my face. The whole place was tiled with floor drains so I just let the water drain off of me and I did it again and again and it felt like heaven…. I surrendered to the heat and simply did it again and again. Then I took a handful of shaving cream and covered my whole neck from my chest up to my face then rinsed my hands and took the razor in my hand and set it at the top of my sideburns and grimaced as I started to pull waiting for the pain…. But there was none. The days of humid weather had rendered my whiskers ready for the blade. Every pull of the blade was amazing. Long full slow strokes with the blade pressed against my skin and I could actually hear the hair as it was severed. It was magical and so satisfying. A complete and painless surprise… After every stroke I rinsed the blade in the water again and again and I shaved until my face was clean and not a wisp of shaving cream was left… My face was absolutely smooth. I took another handful of hot water and splashed it on my face, neck and chest and repeated it with the water funning down my torso and legs in away you simply could do unless you were in this exact circumstance and alone and then walked in and showered. It was the singular most peaceful half hour of my life.

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