Story Time! My Quick Encounter with a Rich Man & His Fetish

Upper East Side, New York, NY

Today marks the 100th day since the first COVID-19 case in New York State. As a person living in New York, I am proud of how we were able to get through this tough and pressing journey. It is also June 08, 2020, and it’s the first day of reopening the first phase of New York City. With things starting to go back to “normal,” I thought to myself, “why not treat yourself with some self-care?” And so I did. I was in for a botox appointment which was scheduled almost a week ago. Since the start of this pandemic, I saw my wrinkles becoming more prominent (probably because of the stress and anxiety I have been dealing with for the past couple of months) and I wanted to get rid of them. 

My day went pretty normal for the most part. In the morning, I got up, checked my emails, posted a few photos on the LECHERY.OFFICIAL Instagram page, showered, put some clothes and sheer lace tights on from Calzedonia, and decided to go to the post office to get some packages. By the time I finished picking up my packages, I decided to go back home. It’s already 2PM at this point, and my botox appointment was scheduled for 4:30PM. I haven’t eaten either. So I decided to make some lunch, only to realize that what was left in my fridge was just a packet of frozen falafels I got from Trader Joe’s two weeks ago (yes, I have been ordering in for the most part). After eating four pieces of falafel, I decided to wash my makeup off (it’s not recommended wearing makeup to one’s botox appointment), changed my outfit from a plain black shirt to a sheer blouse with ruffles, put on some 2 inch heels, and covered my head with a silk scarf (babushka style). I was ready to leave.

It was now 3:45PM and I decided to start walking to my doctor’s clinic which was about 25 blocks away from me (in NYC, 25 blocks is really nothing). When I began to venture out and started strolling along the streets of Lexington Avenue, I could see restaurants open for dine-out. I was so happy to see a sense of normalcy again after being in lockdown for three months. It felt like the New York I knew was coming back again and we were seeing what potentially could be the light at the end of the tunnel. Surely, I missed it! As I continued on walking block after block, a traffic light stop stood in front of me. Although I was in the right way of crossing the road, a man in a suit riding a brand new black polished Range Rover SV Autobiography was also going to make a turn (as I was crossing). I stopped for a moment and gave him a signal that he could go make his turn even though I was already in the middle of the road. He put his car to a halt,   swayed his hand (just like the same gesture I gave him), and told me to just go ahead. And so I did. 

By this time, it was already 4:10PM, and I still had 10 more blocks to walk until I reached my destination. I was walking at a quicker pace, passing people who were giving me stares (which I couldn’t care less of), and not keeping track of which street I was on. I slowed down only to realize that the very same man in a suit with the same car decides to stop by and park by the sidewalk. We made eye contact. He stepped out of the car, took off his shades, and I was approached by this handsome 6’2” man. He commented on what I was wearing and said, “A fine lady like you shouldn’t be walking alone,” I told him, “Thanks, but I don’t mind.”

“Are you in a rush?” He asked. 

I replied, “Yes, I am, I have a doctor's appointment in like 15 minutes.”  

“Aha, do you need a ride?”

Even though I did, since I knew I was going to be late at this point, I said, “No, not really. My doctor’s clinic is just a few more blocks away.”

“Oh okay, well if you do need a ride, just let me know. I don’t bite.” He laughed.

Time was running out. I wanted to continue but at the same time I didn’t want to miss my appointment. “Haha. Anyways, I really have to go now, it was wonderful meeting you,” I said.

He hesitated, “But wait, can I at least get your number?” 

In my mind, he was a pretty cute guy, so I thought to myself, “why not?” I gave him my number. After exchanging numbers, he commented, “Nice pantyhose by the way babe. I have a thing for them. An actual fetish, I suppose. I would like to take you out sometime babe.” 

From there, I knew this guy was canceled. Even from the moment he said the word “babe” made me cringe. He seemed rather decent, educated, and a gentleman up until he made such sexualizing comments about what I wore. 

I told him, “Thanks, but I have to go now!” I didn’t talk to him further, and left for my doctor’s appointment. 

Frustrated, but, what is there for me to do to change a man’s perspective on a woman who enjoys wearing pantyhose? A fetish is a fetish. A man can keep his fetish to himself, but not sexualize her to the point that it feels like they're losing respect. Nevertheless, hosiery is a luxury that continues to empower me in exploring the art of being a woman. It will always be and it always has been.

Now ladies, I want to ask you, have you had any similar encounters when you were approached by men because of their hosiery fetishes? If so, share your story, I would love to hear them! 


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