Are Krystelle 30 Seamless Pantyhose The Next Wolford Fatal Neon?

Sheery wearing Krystelle 30 Seamless pantyhose

As you may know, I’ve been dying to try the Krystelle Seamless 30 pantyhose as soon as I saw them on the Shapings website. Well, I sprung for a pair for 40 CAD (about 32 USD) in the “tea” shade and finally got them in the mail. Since I’m a total virgin to the seamless pantyhose style, I just could not wait to slip my just-shaved legs into these beauties which, of course, I did without hesitation.

The first thing I noticed after slowly sliding these up my right thigh is that they don’t have the typical slippery “spandex” feel normally found on shiny pantyhose, not to mention, something I highly covet in legwear. The Krystelle 30, instead, has a microfiber composite that can best described as a matte feel with a bit of shine on it. Though I prefer the spandex feel and shine, I wouldn’t call it a knock on these since it is a high-quality material after all. There is sufficient shine but it just isn’t at the level of, say, the Wolford Neon or it’s sexier cousin, the Wolford Fatal Neon.

Left leg all hosed up, time to pull them up to my waist and, WHOA, they are very low-rise! With some easing, I could get the waistband just barely to my navel, having to do a pantyhose wedgy on my butt in the process but you know what? It’s something I actually liked about the Krystelle 30. I could remember those pictures of old Fatal Neon packages with those tights perfectly wedged up the ass of those models giving an almost painted on look. The Krystelle 30 replicated that perfectly.

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I’m a Bit Tied Up Now, Sweetie, Maybe Later

Pantyhose in Bed

Part I: Happy Hour

Part II: Happier Hour

“Don’t you look delicious,” Chelsea whispered to Carla, who just exited the bathroom.

“Oh really?” responded Carla, bashfully.

Jenna walked over from the kitchen with a stiffly made screwdriver in each hand and handed one to the both. She then took a quick glance at the sexy bra, panty and pantyhose ladened Carla and gave her a flirty nod of approval before returning to the kitchen for her own drink.

Meanwhile, Chelsea sat herself down comfortably on the sofa and motioned for Carla to join her, who did not hesitate to take a seat right next to her. Chelsea then began to caress the Wolford pantyhose covering Carla’s thigh.

“So you obviously like dressing up. What else do you like?” Chelsea asked with a grin then taking a large gulp of her screwdriver.

Jenna, meanwhile, sat herself on the other side of Carla and ran her hand through her wig, just to let her know she was there and also awaiting the response to Chelsea’s question.

“Well, for starters…,” Carla said beginning her lifelong story of the extreme lingerie and pantyhose fetishes and all the fantasies she had in them. She rambled on and on, nearly killing the sensual mood between the three. Luckily, the screwdrivers were keeping Chelsea and Jenna afloat, but just barely. That was until Carla got to the part about her fantasy being pantyhose bound and raped.

Chelsea’s and Jenna’s faces lit up.

“Well, we happen to like that too dear,” said Jenna, who got up clutching Carla’s hand and lightly pulling her towards her and Chelsea’s bedroom. Chelsea got up and followed them into the bedroom, drink in hand.

“Lie down on the bed,” said Jenna, to which Carla happily obliged.

Jenna then went to a drawer pulling out several pairs of worn pantyhose. Chelsea put her drink down, kicked off her stiletto heels then slipped out of her black minidress revealing a stylish black camisole, thong panties and, of course, her own natural shade of Wolford pantyhose underneath. She then grabbed a pair of the worn hose from Jenna and began tying up Carla’s legs wrapping them tight.

Chelsea took another pair of the hose and tied up Carla’s wrists behind her, then stuffed the last pair entirely into her mouth.

“Oh look, isn’t she so cute,” Jenna said to Chelsea with a wink. Carla was enjoying every moment letting out a girly whimper to communicate her joyously bound predicament. Jenna then slipped out of her own heels and dress revealing a more slutty blue shelf bra, exposing her “breasts,” a matching thong and the seemingly required pantyhose, her brand being Pierre Mantoux.

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OMG, You Can Now Buy a Seamless Pantyhose Similar to Wolford Fatal Neon

Shapings Krystelle 30 Seamless Pantyhose

Image: Shapings.com

I’ve pretty much lost hope for a revival of the pantyhose of my dreams, the gorgeous Wolford Fatal Neon. Sure, if I’m lucky, I could find them on eBay and fork over a small fortune for a pair that quite certainly has been opened and come upon (which, before today, I would have been fine with). I, however, ran across something that nearly brought this pantyhose enthusiast to tears.

If you’ve never been to Shapings.com, they are quite a treasure trove for legwear, like a Walmart for your pantyhose and even some lingerie needs. What really sets them apart is their large selection of imported, high end hosiery, basically a one-stop shop for the serious pantyhose fetishist. They are based in Canada and ship overseas (yes, USA too) and have been a very reliable source for those hard to find items, even out here in Europe.

So imagine my curiosity when I see on their home page an image which looked eerily similar to those I’ve seen of the Wolford Fatal Neon. Not only that but, holy shit, you can buy them. So I did the next logical thing, let out an OMG in a girly shriek (last time you’ll ever see OMG here again by the way), and clicked to the page, mouse hand shaking.

And there it was in all it’s glory, the Krystelle 30 Seamless pantyhose made by… Shapings themseleves? Quite interestingly, they teamed with an Italian manufacturer to produce the Krystelle 30 pantyhose to their specs and then brand them as their own. I say what a genius they are to see the void the discontinuation of the Fatal Neon long ago had created and jumped in to save the day.

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I’m a Bit Tied Up Now, Sweetie, Maybe Later

Pantyhose fetish legs

Part 1: Happy Hour

Carl was just finishing up his work at the National Bank downtown. Normally, he would just get in his car and drive home but this particular day had taken a toll. Refinancing, mortgages and loan defaults… pretty much all of the negatives of his job happened to have come in a flood to which he grudgingly worked through it all.

Relieved after exiting his work, he made his way to the bar just a block away and ordered a stiff martini to unwind. Not a frequent occurrence since, besides not being much of a drinker, he had a wife and a five year old daughter waiting for him when he arrived home. He, however, sipped his martini without even a wince as if he’s done it at the end of every day of his career.

Truly tempted for another stiff martini, Carl exercised his restraint, paid for his drink and exited the bar. On his walk to the parking garage, though, he encountered a pair of provocatively dressed women who he could tell were transvestites, albeit very beautiful and convincing ones at that. Normally, he would have given them a flirtatious wink and walk right past.

This time, given his slightly inebriated state, he stopped in front of the two noticing their lovely legs in pantyhose and striking high heels.

“Wow, I just love those heels!” he exclaimed, not to either one in particular, and succeeding with his “pick-up” line as the two transvestites looked back at Carl, utterly flattered.

You see, underneath the suit and tie of that nine-to-five day worker hid the other side of Carl, Carla by his (or shall we say, her) own naming, and her oh-so guilty pleasure of closet crossdressing. She loved it all: lingerie, pantyhose, dresses, wigs, makeup, you name it. She could wear them like a pro, or like the two beauties in front of her.

Acting out her own crossdressing fantasies, however, turned out to be quite the challenge. Carl’s wife, Amy, was a very conservative woman who was the type that would never deviate from the same missionary sex, over and over. That meant no toys, no doggie-style and definitely no crossdressing on the part of Carla.

Carla even went as far as to keep her entire wardrobe of women’s clothes, underwear, shoes and accessories in her secret rental storage space nearby where he worked downtown. There was no way in hell she would let Amy or his daughter catch her in the act at home. Unfortunately, this also meant her crossdressing was strictly kept to the confines of the storage where she would pose dolled up in front of the mirror installed on a wall and wank one out before she left.

Yet given Carl’s schedule at work and his duties at home, times where he could escape as Carla were few and far between. As well, his sexual frustration for his beloved fetishes often mounted day by day to the point where it completely obsessed his mind and he was likely to do something out of character, which really meant against the conservative nature of his wife’s wishes.

Take, for example, drinking a martini and chatting up a pair of transvestites…

Chelsea and Jenna introduced themselves to Carl while giggling in their flattery of his flirty comment.

“Oh, and I love men in suits,” Chelsea says while flirtatiously grabbing Carl’s tie and pulling it toward her.

Jenna followed her lead, gently touched Carl’s face and asked, “So like like us ‘girls,’ don’t you?”

“If you only knew,” Carl replied. “It’s my dream to look as gorgeous as the both of you.”

Chelsea and Jenna stared back at Carl, speechless but curious.

Carl, meanwhile, couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth. Then again, he couldn’t believe the two were flirting back at him which excited him like nothing ever before. Against all his instincts as the straight and narrow husband and father, he decided to see where this could lead.

“Can I invite you ladies for a drink?” he asks them.

Jenna didn’t hesitate,”Sure, let’s go to The Vine just down the street.” Chelsea silently agrees. No need to convince Carl.

The three then proceeded to walk The Vine bar, an easygoing place for all walks of life with Carl ordering his second martini and Chelsea and Jenna ordering each a screwdriver. Then, as if he were seated on a therapist’s sofa, Carl proceeded to tell his whole life’s confessions on his crossdressing fetish. Everything from stealing his mother’s pantyhose as a kid to her fantasies of trists with other crossdressers bound and gagged and, yes, even her secret storage stash located nearby.

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I Paid $133 For a Pair of Pantyhose… But I Don’t Regret It

Fogal Rapallo pantyhose

When it comes to luxury pantyhose, Wolford Neon 40 sits there perched all nice and pretty right at the top. For around $45 (37 EUR) you can drape your legs in a gorgeous, high-shine glory sure to be the envy of all other crossdressers out there. Whenever yours truly spots what could be pantyhose ecstasy (not named Wolford), however, then I just have to have it, no matter what the cost is. In this case, it did test the ability to empty my wallet, er I mean purse.

So I bought a pair of Fogal Rapallo for (gulp) the rough equivalent of $133 (112 EUR). What the fuck!? I thought since it was around Christmas time and I so desperately needed to get a present for myself. Just yesterday I received them and opened that package like it was Christmas. Thick, black and super silky, I slipped them over my stems eager to see if these would replace my beloved Wolford as queen of the pantyhose throne.

The verdict: the Rapallo are incredibly gorgeous and I have to say share the spot on top with Wolford.

For those of you unfamiliar with this particular pantyhose, you may be acquainted with another one of it’s rivals: Platino Luxe Fata or Cecilia de Rafael Uppsala. Basically, they are all tights of very high denier (100+) meaning very opaque with an illustrious shine and those trademark seams running up the back of the leg. They probably don’t get everyone’s panties wet but they happen to be a guilty pleasure of mine since I now own a pair of all three.

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Sexy in Leather, Not Plastic

In pantyhose and Dune clogs

I have a confession to make… I never really liked heels or women’s shoes for that matter. That is, up until now. Of course, I’ve had a few pairs for a while but they never really did anything for me unless you count the falls and near ankle breaks while prancing around in them. The deal breaker, though, was that they never turned me on wearing them.

Then again, I always thought that the sexiest shoes were the ones that either were clear, five inch heels, or were like a spandex boot going up your thigh. You know, the kind you see on strippers in strip clubs or even on porn-ish models in those jpegs you’re jerking off to online.

In other words, those are cheap pieces of plastic that make you more or less feel the same way. OK, so I like feeling cheap. Just not in what I’m wearing on my pantyhose covered feet.

So recently, I splurged on some high-heeled Dune clogs as you see above. Somehow, they really caught my eye reminding me of Oktoberfest and gorgeous women in their lederhosen and wooden shoes. Don’t ask for an explanation of this, but I just had to have them. Now I’m wearing them as I type with the utmost joy hampered by one near ankle break as I tried to stand up moments ago.

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Now My New Favorite Thing, Crotchless Undies

Obsession Crotchless Teddy

In my usual stroll through online lingerie stores, I almost never see anything that really gets my my eye these days. More often than not, it’s the same strap teddy or babydoll with “peekaboo” holes for nipples to stick out. Yet, being so picky, I’m always on the lookout for that sexy something that won’t end up a wadded wrinkled ball sitting in a bag ten years later.

Indeed I found it, something I always overlooked and definitely unappreciated. So now I present… crotchless lingerie.

I purchased an Obsession Diamond Teddy in black on eBay and, true to its name, I’ve been obsessed with it ever since it landed in my horny little hands. Immediately, I slipped on some Oroblu Magie pantyhose then into this beauty which, not only fit perfectly, but looks incredible on me if I say so myself.

I love the ingenious way the teddy uses adjustable elastic leg loops to permit a wide open crotch area. I mean we’re talking front all the way up the ass crack. As my cock starts to bulge through the pantyhose (instead of hanging in open air), I wouldn’t find this typically feminine or appealing. Yet there is a cute little jeweled embellishment that hangs down gently over the bulge giving an appeal to the “present” underneath. I kind of like it actually and think I’ll call it the femme package.

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Allow Me to Pull Down Your Pantyhose and…

Sheery in a camisole and pantyhose

Usually when I post here, I’m very much “in the mood.” That is, not just dressing the part but living up to it so to speak. It is usually morning time, I’ve had my cup of coffee and am in my cute satin robe that just barely covers my ass. Of course, I have on silky pantyhose, high heels and, to feel extra sassy, throw on some lipstick (now a regular thing).

While it is a major turn-on to see my silken self shine, I’ve embraced my feminine role enough now to go beyond the usual crossdresser frolicking and into a realm which hasn’t been penetrated to the full extent yet (excuse the pun).

Namely, I can’t stop thinking about that feminized penis that wants to violate me and make me believe I’m a true woman.

Maybe five or six years ago, the thought sex with another crossdresser would have never even crossed my mind. I was a happy-go-lucky crossdresser content with throwing on a pair of nice pantyhose with a cheap bra and panties, wank it then call it a day. You know, the typical practice during the some twenty years prior.  Then one day something dawned on me, or you can say the little girl in me was starting to bloom.

It feels quite sexy to look like a woman in her skimpies and admire it in a mirror but what would it be like to feel and take pleasure like one? Rolling around in nylon and lace isn’t quite the same so there I was one day, laying in bed (lingerie, hose and all) getting into various positions and pretending I was on the receiving end of a good pelvic clapping. The fact that it made me question my, at that time, heterosexual self (I’m not gay, am I?) actually made it even more alluring.

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Top Ten Things Crossdressers Need to Stop Doing, Now

Pantyhose over face

Image: Wormed of Horrors

Sure, we as crossdressers like to have our fun and our whole motto could arguably be summed up as “we do whatever the fuck we want, dressed as women.” While we surely do not live by a behavior code (or any kind of code, really), there are some things, however, we might want to pay some mind to. As in please, for the sake of our beloved crossdressing community, cut this shit out.

So without further ado, I present ten things crossdressers need to stop doing right this second.

10. Using the terms “passable,” “lesbian,” “slut” or “whore” to describe ourselves unless, of course, a vagina was recently installed.

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Committing a Pantyhose Fetish Cardinal Sin, Thanks to Capezio

Sheery in Capezio Stirrup Tights

Out of the thousands and thousands of times of slipping into pantyhose, I’m talking since the pre-pubescent pantyhose fetish years, there is one thing I have never gotten tired of. Of course, there is the usual nylon hugging my bulging wannabe female parts giving me the jollies but I also can’t get enough of looking down and wiggling my toes pretending they are struggling in in their silken trap.

Despite the love of encased toes, I’ve never been very foot fetishy which is why I primarily like my pantyhose footed. That and because I’m so un-ladylike when it comes to caring for my feet. Toe cheese, nails that can rival an eagle’s talons and whatever that black shit is that had been stuck for a week could all use a bit of attention (and an army of pedicurists).

Well, obviously that had to change so, first, there was the self-pedicure that took at least a couple of hours. Next, trimming those little hairs on my big toe (weird) and, last but not least, a little fuscia polish to beauty them up. Was that so hard? I said to myself trying to convince myself I’m a REAL girl.

Then giddy with my pretty feet, it was time to rip into that new package of Capezio Ultra Shimmery stirrup tights in color Toast. I never thought I’d see the day where I’m wearing pantyhose (tights in this case) with my painted toes exposed and feeling even more feminine sexy than ever.

At this moment, I never wanted go back to footed pantyhose… and had to seriously masturbate looking at my new beautiful toes, free to breathe in the daylight.

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