Panties For Men

I got started getting interested in girls/women's panties when I was about 4.  I used to play 'house' under a big round dining room table.  One day Mom had a few of her woman friends over for coffee and a card game they always played.  I decided to play 'house' under the table while they were seated there.  That was pure heaven for me, being under the table and able to 'panty peek' under all of their skirts/dresses.  The women were all OK with my peeking once Mom reassured them that my behavior was harmless, just "a stage he's going through".  Yeah, right.  HA, HA.

When I was five, Mom had to work two jobs to make ends meet. That was because Dad was overseas (in the military) and the monthly “army check” wasn’t enough to support Mom, my two sisters and myself. My older sister Cheryl was old enough to stay home without an adult, so she would baby-sit me and my other sister Cara while Mom was working.    One time when Mom was home and folding laundry, it was late at night and I had already gone to sleep. She snuck into my room and without turning the light on, she set the clean clothes on top of my dresser without waking me up.

The next morning, while dressing myself, I found a pair of my sister Cara’s panties which Mom had accidentally put in the pile of my own undies. I suppose that happened because Mom was tired and also in a hurry because it was so late at night. After struggling for several minutes, I lost the fight and surrendered to the temptation and put the panties on. Even though I was pre-puberty, I fell in love with the feeling of the ruffles teasing my thighs and butt cheeks as I slid the panties up to my hips. I then stepped over to my full-length mirror to look at myself. Incredible! That was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen up until that time!  Not only were the panties beautiful, I felt (and was) beautiful too.  The feeling of the smooth slippery nylon on me was heavenly beyond words.

I finished dressing and then went downstairs for breakfast.  I must not have tucked my shirt in very well, because Mom saw the tell-tail waist band on Cara’s panties I was wearing.  She asked me where I got Cara’s panties, so I told Mom the truth.  She told me to go back upstairs and put on my own undies.  I refused.  Since Mom was in a hurry, she probably didn’t want to waste time on a confrontation, so she didn’t make me change undies.  When she asked me if I liked Cara’s panties better than my own undies, I said yes.  After that Mom promptly dropped the subject.

Several days later was my sixth birthday. When I awoke and started to dress myself, I saw that all my boy undies were missing and were replaced by a couple six-packs of little girl’s panties. That was one of my birthday gifts. One pack was plain nylon panties in assorted pastel colors, the other pack was nylon panties with tons of ruffles on them. Call me a hearse, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I’ve worn pretty nylon panties, either plain or with lace and/or ruffles under my outerwear ever since age six.

OK, I did get some static about that from some boys in my school.  However the girls in my class “stuck up” for me by teasing and shaming the bullies instead of me.  The boys didn’t pick on me after that, but pretty much left me alone once I convinced them that I wasn’t trying to get them to dress like me.  By the end of the school year, the girls and I were the winners, and the bullies were the losers.

Mom and Dad wrote letters back-and-forth fairly often, so Mom had a chance to break Dad in gradually. So thanks to Mom, acceptance by Dad was not a big deal after he got home.  

As to the rest of my fem dressing, that didn’t start until around puberty, but that will be on  later posts.

Good bye for now.  Stay safe, healthy and beautiful.