Panties For Men

After work, I and a friend from work, also a cross dresser, stopped at a local watering hole for a little ‘happy hour’.  We were sitting at the bar just talking and sipping on our drinks when I noticed a guy seated at a nearby table all by himself.  He kept staring at me.  Although this was not strictly a gay bar, it was frequented by crossdressers and/or transsexuals, so I thought to myself:  “What’s so unusual about me?  I fit in with the crowd, why is he staring at me?”

I suppose my bra clasp or straps showed through, seeing as my blouse was made from a rather thin and ‘clingy’ polyester material.  Maybe I should have worn a cami under my blouse, but I didn’t.  Oh well.  He came over to us and said to me: “Excuse me sir, but aren’t you wearing a bra or something?”  So I said: “Well everybody’s wearing something.  After all they wouldn’t let a person in here if they were naked.  So I think you meant to ask if I was wearing a bra and something rather than a bra or something.  On second thought, why ask if I was wearing something when it’s obvious that I am?  I think you really meant to ask me if I was wearing a bra.  Is that accurate?”  He stammered and stuttered a bit, since I had him thoroughly buffaloed.  My friend was laughing his hind end off during our whole exchange.  Finally gaining his composure, the stranger said:  “Aw, forget I said anything”.  He started to turn away.  I said:  “No, no, no, stay here.  You asked a civil question in a polite way, and you deserve an answer.”

With that I unbuttoned the top of my blouse, exposing the yellow ruffles which bordered the top of each bra cup.  I swung my shoulders back-and-forth in a flirtatious way, making the ruffles do a little dance of their own.  My bra had shiny yellow satin “C” cups, although I’m a natural “B” cup.  I prefer a little padding to give a sexier look.  I said: “You may kiss or lick or fondle the slippery satin and tickle your face with the ruffles too, if you’d like.  My bra has ruffles, but it doesn’t have teeth, so it won’t bite”.  He said: “No thanks, I’ll take your word for it”.  When he started to turn away a second time, I said:  “Don’t you want to see my panties too?  They’re smooth slippery satin with ruffles too, same color as my bra?”  He said: “no thanks” and went back to his table, however he kept staring at me.  I think he wanted to see my panties, but just didn’t know how to ask, since me and my friend so thoroughly reduced him to a babbling idiot by laughing at him when he asked his first question.

I wanted him to see my panties, so I faced his table while squirming on my bar stool, causing my already short skirt to slide up a bit.  After ‘panty-flirting/flashing’ for 5 minutes or so, I noticed him starting to sprout a boner while his face turned red and his hands became very fidgety.  I walked over to his table.  I said to him:  “Calm down. You may lift  my skirt if you want a panty peek.  I’ll bet you’d like to kiss and sniff the slippery satin too, wouldn’t you?  You can pull my skirt down over your shoulders if you’re shy or embarrassed and want a little privacy.  I might warn you however that there’s a one-eyed snake under my skirt.  The snake wants to pop out of my panties so you can kiss and lick it.  The snake doesn’t bite, but it will double in size and spit in your face if you tickle and tease it long enough”.  He said: “OMG, I’m out of here!  I never meant for a little flirting to get so far out of hand.  I’m so sorry.”  With that he bolted from his seat and ran out of the place.  I’ve never tried to run while having a hard-on, but I’ve always wondered what that’s like.  So funny, the whole incident launched both me and my friend into an instant laughter spasm.  Aren’t I terrible?

The whole exchange turned a big bad-ass dude into a blob of quivering Jell-O.  Lingerie, when used flirtatiously, can be a tool used by its wearer to enslave anybody.  Now I think I understand how women probably feel when they have this kind of power to dominate a guy.  WOW!  The only ‘guy thing’ I can compare it to is the rush one gets when driving a Corvette for the first time. So was I being a naughty gurl?  Not really, I was just being my usual playful self.  After all, wasn’t I simply Linda being Linda?