My real weakness is seeing and touching a woman wearing full cut, white nylon panties. It goes back to when I was just a kid, when I was in the hospital for a short stay with the flu. Late one evening when I had been asleep for hours, a very pretty young nurse came into my room to check on me and my roommate. She didn’t realize that I woke up because I kept my eyes closed most of the way, and got to see her slip out of her dress and give herself a quick sponge bath. She was wearing beautiful white nylon briefs over her basic white garter belt. She slipped her thumbs into the waistband and skinned them down and off, she wiped her brown pubis with the washrag and dried herself with the panties, dropping them behind her on the floor.
Out of the pocket of her uniform she pulled out another pair of white panties and pulled them on over the garterbelt and seamed white stockings, carefully adjusting the elastic bands so they would be flat. Over her head came the uniform, and she carefully closed it and put on her cap. (I’m dating myself here for sure!)
Just then the door opened and another heavier, older nurse came in and told her she was needed down the hall, and that she would finish checking on us here. At the young nurses feet was the slightly damp pair of panties, and she quickly kicked them backward along the smooth tile floor where they came to rest under the visitor’s chair in the corner.
Nurse #2 looked at our charts, covered us up and went off to other chores. I realized that I had grown the largest hardon of my life after having seen my first naked woman. The sight of her lifting up her uniform and standing in the dim light wearing white stockings, bra and nylon briefs was burned deeply into my brain where it remains to this day as a regular fantasy.
After some time passed, I got up to go to the bathroom and saw white under the chair. Stooping down, I grabbed the nylon panties and quickly stuffed them into my shorts, went into the bathroom on shaky legs and closed the door for privacy.
I examined the panties carefully in the full light of the bathroom, touching the smooth fabric, rubbing it against my cheek, and reading the label along the side seam. I still remember it to this day; “Van Raalte - Sheerios, size six.” Later I would find out that they were quite expensive, not like the cheap ones I’d later take from the local Woolworth’s downtown.
The nylon fabric covered the elastic waistband, and there was a small band of see through lace at the front of the leg openings. The fabric was very fine, soft white nylon, but not the cheap course see-through stuff I’d grow to dislike later on; I could make out my hand through it in the bathroom light.
The double fabric of the crotch panel (gusset I’d learn later on) was only nylon, as adding cotton on the inside would come some years later. It was vaguely damp on my cheek, and I passed the panties under my flared nostrils to test them.
Her perfume was mingled with a much more basic, scent which caused my penis to rise instantly to attention. Amazed at the response, I looked more carefully at the inside of the gusset, realizing that her pussy had been cradled against the smooth fabric and had left its unique mark there.
In that strong light, I could see a faint yellowish stain and further back on the gusset the dampness started. No color here and a slightly astringent smell, different from that one in front. [Later on, I’d begin to figure out more about this; that my nurse had probably slipped away with someone (doctor, tech?) earlier for a quickie, and after becoming uncomfortable with his leakage, popped into my room to clean up and change her panties.]
My hardon was raging now and instinctively I reached down to relieve it, forgetting I had the panties in my right hand too. The touch of cool, smooth nylon against my frenulum caused a bolt of electricity to course down my spine. I softly rubbed the panties against my whole shaft and quickly came on the floor in front of the toilet. Confused by this new experience, I cleaned up the floor, flushed and went back to my bed; panties pushed into the front of my shorts. When I woke up, I realized that I had another erection, and went into the bathroom to pee. Reaching into my shorts, I felt the nylon panties, and examined them again. The crotch where it had been damp was crusty and firm where my nurse’s leaking semen had dried.
I had to relieve myself again with the panties, and thus started a life-long love affair with full cut, white nylon panties. I did see my nurse later that next night, my last at the hospital, and she took care of things in my room with cool professionalism. I on the other hand had a hardon the entire time she was in the room, and when she bent over to tuck in the sheets on my roommate’s bed, I grew faint at the sight of her stocking tops attached to garter clips.
When she came to my bed, I flushed with embarrassment that she could see the tent I made in the bedding. Probably not noticing, she tidied up my bed, put a cool hand on my forehead to test my temperature and made some notes on my clipboard. As she stood with her back towards me at the end of the bed, I could make out the faint outline of her panties against her thighs and ass.
I could see the ridge where the double crotch fabric met the back of the panties, and I fantasized about how they looked against her pale skin last night. As she turned to leave, I caught her glancing toward the chair in the corner, and she even bent down a bit to check for the trophy I’d claimed earlier.
A slight shrug, and she left my life forever, but not my fantasies.
I know many men have a thing for nurses, and I do understand that, but my fantasy has a basis in fact. My fetish was born in a hospital; brought to life by a most beautiful healthcare worker, and is maintained by occasional sightings of white dresses, or white stockings or most of all full cut, white nylon panties.
Since then, I have bought them, “borrowed” them from hampers, taken them from dryers in the Laundromat, and as a kid, stolen them from the store. None have ever been as sweet as the first pair. I have searched stores everywhere for the brand to no avail. Sadly they have probably gone out of business or been bought out by a competitor. But Vanity Fair stills makes a very high quality nylon brief, but the waist band does not go up as far onto the belly as the older style panties used to. The nylon still feels almost as good as it used to, and I still get hard seeing a pretty nurse wearing a uniform dress.