When I download erotic stories from US sites I always run them through a Word macro which changes 'panties' to 'knickers', 'garter belts' to 'suspender belts', 'hose' to 'stockings' and even 'hamper' to 'laundry basket' etc. etc. These are the erotic words from my childhood years. I have run this article through another Word macro which changes 'knickers' to 'panties' etc. to suit US preferences.
Confessions of female underwear fetishist and cross dresser
Masturbation
I was enthusiastically into masturbation long before I actually ejaculated. A distinct advantage actually, no messy sheets and no condoms required but sadly long gone. My first sexually stimulating sensations were experienced when I found a long chain which I looped around my waist, then down under the crotch up between the buttocks and through the chain at the back. I found I could anchor this to a tree and pretend to be a monkey dancing and pulling on the chain. The sensations as the chain pressed and rubbed against my swelling prick were delightful and I spent many hours of 'monkey business'. I think my parents may have suspected I was up to something but they never openly told me to 'stop playing with myself' although this was a common expression even if I scratched my balls for more than a few seconds. It wasn't long before I realized the chain wasn't really necessary and my hand could produce even more satisfying effects as I slid the loose foreskin on my erect prick back and forth until that glorious, crotch centered, warm, exciting, sensation built up into a swelling bursting scintillating climax.
I was a great builder of tree houses. These were ideal masturbating dens as I could make them high enough and difficult enough to climb so that my younger sister was not tempted to climb up to see what the fascination was. Masturbating high up in a tree in the fresh open air is a very satisfying experience. Bedtime masturbation was a great pastime until the first ejaculation of sperm occurred, I was devastated, trying hard to remove the sticky substance but to no avail, 'they' would know what I had been up to. However 'first wet dream' was the unexplained reason. I tried many ways of catching the unwelcome fluid, several sheets of toilet paper held over the tip of my cock with an elastic band, deflated rubber balloons with the neck cut off and various bottles and jars. They all interfered with the free manipulation of foreskin over the glans and spoiled the enjoyment of freehand masturbation.
I guess my first cross-dressing incident occurred when I came across a short soft silky skirt like garment, I still don't know quite what it was, hidden away at the back of the airing cupboard, the feel and texture of the material caused a stirring of the loins. I checked its presence untouched for several weeks until I felt sure it wasn't being used and wouldn't be missed. I slipped it out of the cupboard into my pocket and secreted it away in one of my tree houses. It was just like a brief skirt and the soft silkiness against my prick produced a very satisfying erection. Grasping my prick through the silk like material was a great orgasm generator. It must have been around this time I discovered the use and pleasure of condoms as I will mention later on.
I recall one incident which should have been an indication of my predilection for girls underwear. As a very junior boy scout, after the meeting we went over to the common. There the older scouts would meet a couple of older girls who put on an interesting display of cartwheels. As each girl cartwheeled her skirt would just fall around her waist at the last moment revealing a flash of brief white panties around her thighs and over her cunt. I was enthralled and watched with dry throat and swelling penis. The older boys shouted something to one girl and she disappeared behind a bush, when she cartwheeled again she had no panties on. The boys yelled and whistled but to me it was a total let down, a cunt was disappointingly hairy and unattractive, I desperately wanted to go behind that bush and find that lovely pair of tantalizing brief white panties. To bury my face in the girl stained fabric, to breath in the sweet smell of the girl's cunt, to grasp my prick though girlie panty material, to step into them, pull them up my legs until the cunt touched crotch was stretched tight over my excited prick. My masturbation theme that evening and for many days there after was very panty oriented. I fantasised about a room full of dozens of pairs of beautiful panties in all styles, colours and fabrics, I'd put several pairs of panties on, roll around on panties and in panties, panties over my head, panties on my arms, stroked every part of my body with panties, everywhere lovely delightful sensuous exciting girl’s panties.
I lusted after a brassiere from an early age but was pretty certain nicking one from home would be noticed and anyway my mum had pretty small breasts and my sister had not developed breasts yet. A friend had a sister with really gorgeously large breasts and I would often notice her tantalising panties and large D cup brassieres hanging on the clothes line and try to think of ways of acquiring one. Regrettably she never left them hanging on the line overnight so stealing them was out of the question. When walking up the garden I would often contrive to brush my head or face against one of the enticingly large cups to induce a stirring in the loins. I have always been very aware of the outlines of brassieres and panties that one can detect under girls clothing and am always alert to delectable illusions I can conjure up just from the sight of a well filled brassiere and the hint of underwear hidden beneath everyday clothing. I notice the different seam structures and shoulder strap widths and placements on brassieres, the different hook configurations at the back, some with just a thin single hook and the four hooker jobs for the really large breasted girls.
Panties too reveal themselves in the changing light to the really observant cross dresser and underwear fetishist, high cut, bikini and G sting being easily identified. Sadly the current trend of 'his pants for her' is a great disappointment and one I hope will soon die out in favour of real girlish panties we know and love to see. To the careful observer the real thing can often be observed in the most unlikely places, a flash of white panties up the skirt of the girl on the escalator above, the shadowy glimpse of garter clasps and stocking tops as a girl crosses her legs in the seat opposite in the train, sadly the dreaded tights have all but denied this delight to us, the quick view of brassiere and breasts as a young waitress puts down a cup of coffee before you. Being ever alert to the opportunities and you will not be disappointed and the unexpected brief glimpse of a scarlet pair of panties on beautiful silk clad thighs can generate a warm and juicy slippery cock which will last all day and dampen your manly underpants until you can 'dress up' and masturbate on the memory.
As I youngster I desperately wanted to feel a breast, stroke a cunt, slip my fingers and prick into a juicy, slippery vagina. The opportunity did not come my way for several years, until I left the confines of a boys only school and joined a co-ed technical college. This event produced almost daily masturbation for weeks, coming from a small village I had never been so close to so many delicious, nubile, luscious young girls, with thrusting breasts, narrow waists and luscious long stocking clad legs. Their skirts were short, their blouses thin with plunging necklines, revealing glimpses, or full views of brassieres in all sorts of colors and patterns with beautiful white soft breasts nestling within, they often lounged around in the common rooms revealing glorious views up skirts of frothy underslips, panties taught across domed cunts, garters hooked onto shiny stocking tops, moving and stretching in the most tantalizing ways as they chatted unconcerned to their friends and the boys all stared in delight.
But these beauties seemed unobtainable. There were a couple of girls who were often overheard talking about going to Portsmouth to 'pick up sailors'. Shirley was a buxom soft cuddly girl who looked as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth and the other, Judy, was rather thin with smallish, jutting firm looking breasts. I'm not sure how it happened now but I finished up with Shirley in a lovely petting session in a 'closed' classroom one darkening winter afternoon. She was in control at all times, she placed my hands on her breasts so that I could feel the beautiful softness, she guided my hand up her skirt to her panties where I kneaded her cunt through the thin fabric. This was bliss, she very soon had my gigantically erect, drooling penis in her hands and was gently caressing it as I eased her panty leg aside and slipped my fingers between the lips of her cunt. Strange as it may seem to day, we never did anything other than that, she never brought me to a climax and as far as I know she never climaxed either. Every night when I got home after such a session I had to masturbate my bursting prick, sometimes more than once, to get it to deflate. Many happy hours were spent as my hands roamed over her body and felt all her lovely underwear. One day we were in a deserted barn, when she took all her clothes off and stood before me totally nude. I was struck almost dumb, but not by the sight of her nude body, but by the realization that I lusted after her only when she was clad in sexy brassiere, tight taught silky panties, garter belt and shiny silken stockings. I realized I was an underwear fetishist of the first order, and when I eventually managed to acquire all these beautiful items of female underwear, a cross dresser for life.
My First Brassiere
I clearly remember my first brassiere as though it were yesterday. I was doing my RAF reserve training. Several weeks before I had noted an ad in the paper for a brassiere for woman with little or no breasts who needed a little help. I had the address and acquired the necessary postal order. I can't remember the price now.. I sent off the order to a London address. I checked the camp post office every day, as I was only on reserve for a couple of weeks and I was concerned that my brassiere would be delivered after I had finished and be forwarded to my home address. The package in 'plain paper wrapper' arrived with 4 days to spare. My throat became dry as I collected it and sauntered off to the toilet block. It was risky but I had to check out my purchase. With a dry throat and trembling hands I gentle unwrapped my prize. And there it was a beautiful brand new pristine white brassiere. Each cup of the bra was formed into a pocket with a piece of fabric forming a back to the cup, in each cup there was a breast shaped polythene bag. The bra came with a set of instructions on how to inflate each breast. A longish straw was inserted into the top of the bag into which one blew until satisfied with the shape, withdrawing the straw whilst holding the top of the bag between thumb and finger, sealed the bag and retain the required breast size. It was very tempting but I felt it far to risky to try my new bra on there and then, that exciting moment would have to wait until my reserve time was over in four days. I could feel a stirring of my prick at the thought.
Second Brassiere
My second brassiere came by way of a sack of cleaning rags at work. Fairly obviously someone had considered it a great joke to put the complete brassiere in with the trimmed and cleaned rags. I think one of the other guys at work discovered it and draped it around himself and walked around showing the other guys, we all laughed and made rude comments but I desperately wanted that lovely brassiere. It had been owned by a large woman and was a D cup for sure, a garter had been added to the wide lower band at the front to stop it riding up or to stop her garter belt from falling down. Eventually the interest in the brassiere died down but I had to keep my eyes open to see where it finished up. It was chucked into a garbage bin but difficult to retrieve while all the other guys were there. I knocked off when everyone else did so as not to arouse any suspicion, but when I got to the car park I fiddled around for a while until the others had driven off. Then quickly back into the building, located the waste bin and the prize was mine, quickly into the pocket, back to the car and away.
Other finds
Just as I had completed this article I was in the local shopping centre, passing the air-conditioner enclosure and there I saw a scattering of white brassieres. I could hardly believe my own eyes. But how to collect them, they were inside a padlocked, cyclone fenced cage. I went back to the car but I had no suitable wire to make a hook. I planned to return later with a suitable device to extract these unexpected prizes. Later that day I returned with a hooking device made from a wire coat hanger. I sidled past and sure enough the delightful brassieres almost glowed in the dim light, but there were rather too many people around. I also noticed a young lad on a bike who seemed to be hanging around, obviously another collector. It looked like a now or never situation, I waited till few cars were moving and there were not too many people with trolleys about, I walked quickly to the cage, stooped down as though to tie my shoe lace then with a quick lunge under the wire I had my first brassiere hooked and into my pocket in a flash, two more soft white brassieres followed in quick succession but a shopper with a trolley came along and I had to leave the others. I strolled to the car with a dry throat and pulsing heart, once inside I studied my prizes, beautiful little young girl brassieres, with at a guess cute little A cups but fairly obviously far too small for me to wear, they would have to serve as pocket fillers. It can be quite arousing to have a small size brassiere in the pocket to fondle at any time, feeling the smoothness of the straps, the stretch of the elasticized band below the cups, the lacy material of the cup edges and the hardness of the hooks and eyes. My new brassieres all had a delightful perfume and I buried my face in them and breathed deeply of the lovely young budding girl scent. There were still three brassieres I hadn't rescued but these needed a longer hook, did I really need them? I decided I had taken enough risks and returned home. However later that evening the urge to posses the remaining three brassieres returned and I found a reason to visit the centre again, with a longer hook, honestly hoping that some other collector had rescued them. The area was pretty deserted and I was a little concerned that my activities might arouse the suspicion of the security guard. I folded the wire hook in my pocket and approached the cage, yes three brassieres were still there gleaming in the gloom. They were further away than I had expected and I had to lie down on the floor to hook them, even then I managed to get only two brassieres and one still remains, lying there tantalizingly ever time I visit the centre. When I was able to carefully examine my new brassieres I realized that there were two of each design. It seemed obvious a collector had stolen all these brassieres from a clothes line somewhere, but why had such a wonderful prize been so carelessly discarded. I would never know, I did wonder whether there would have been any panties on that clothes line and if so where were they.
Panties
I happened upon a whole clutch of panties one day when walking the dog in a nearby bush park. It looked very much as though a young 'collectors' hide had been discovered by others and the contents scattered around the country side. They were mainly black and of a soft cottony material but beggars can't be choosers and I collected almost ten pairs. One Black pair I cut a hole for balls and prick to go through. Thus by wearing two pairs of panties at once, (I often go for six pairs at once!), prick and balls are cosseted in lovely panty material. Also at the climax of a 'dress up' when the huge manly prick is revealed by pulling down my penultimate pair of panties, the delightful triangle of panty material is retained, which is far preferable to pulling the last pair of panties down or exposing the prick through the panty leg, which produces a very untidy look. A real find occurred one day when I stopped at the roadside to admire the view. I could hardly believe my eyes, there on the grass were two pairs of the briefest size 12 bikini panties in white satin with very thin hip bands, lacy front panel with jeweled clasps and slinky buttock support. A truly delightful find and still very cock worthy after several years.
On another occasion as I drove home I noticed a dark blue garment alongside the road which to a keen observer looked suspiciously panty-like. As soon as I got home I found a letter that needed posting and strolled up the road to the postbox, passing close to the garment as I went. A lump rose in my throat, it certainly was a lovely pair of hi-cut lacy panties. As luck would have it someone was walking down the road and I had to pass by to the post box. However on the way back there was no one about and with a quick lunge the panties were safely in my pocket, my hand exciting to the silky feel and my knob giving a welcome throb. I wore these panties several times in a 'dress up' but was not to keen on the dark blue colour. On one of my dyeing missions I dyed them black and they are now a current favorite, with a pair of brief white panties over the top. In my collection there are a number of pairs of panties that I have unfortunately forgotten the origin of. At one time my mother-in-law would sent my wife delightfully scanty pairs of bikini panties. Years later these were tossed in the bag for the Smith Family and fortunately I managed to recover them and put them to much better use! A number of pairs needed to be dyed black but otherwise a very satisfactory find.
I must admit to preferring black or white panties but have a couple of red pairs but not in a very satisfying material. I have on just two occasions actually bought panties but both purchases have proved disastrous. The first was packed as 'three pairs of bikini briefs' but when I got them home they were size 14 bloomers! I nearly wrote to the manufacturer complaining! The second purchase was a pair of hi-cut panties in shocking pink which looked very attractive on a rack in the shop and took a bit of guts and tight throat to buy them. I sometimes wear them over my head during a dress up with the thin front part of the gusset over my nose. The hi-cut style of panties in vogue today is totally unsuitable for cross dressers as they can not adequately support and hide cock and balls as the true bikini brief style can. I often drift slowly past the tantalizing displays of brassieres and panties outside Bras and Things at sale time. I really want to boldly step up and buy a sackfull but have so far not had the courage. I promise myself that one day in a far off suburb I really will buy up big on panties and brassieres. I have noticed big burly biker guys sorting through the piles of most delectable panties and selecting several pairs for purchase. I often wonder are they really for the girlfriend or is he a collector like myself but much bolder.
Garter Belts
My fist garter belt was a very simple black affair basically a belt of elastic with four dangling garters. It held up black stockings OK but was fairly low on the erotica scale also the clasps were rather small plastic affairs and would often pop undone. I came across a white garter belt from the good old days when they really were used for keeping stockings up and the clasps had shiny metal loops and large rubber locking studs. Unfortunately it was far to small to fit around my waist and hips. I found some broad elastic in the needlework basket, removed the hooks and sewed in two elastic panels, then replaced two hooks. It fitted tight and firm and was a great erection raiser but being white didn't show up well in the mirrors. Once again a dying session has made it top of the props. Black stockings are no trouble to obtain these days although there was a 'drought' period after the dreadful non-erotic tights took over. Every supermarket has 'real' stockings these days but where are the garter belts to keep them up? Just before Christmas one year, incidentally a great time to be able to buy all sorts of female 'intimate apparel' without raising too many eyebrows, I discovered these packets of both black and white mini garter belts complete with two pairs of silk stockings, really quite cheap. Combined with the garter belt mentioned above and worn back to front, this gives a very erotic eight garter configuration which looks simply stunning from all angles.
Incidentally, a pair of white ankle socks over the stockings looks really great and allows one to 'dress up' under a pair of track suit pants without the stockings being visible, and looks stunning with a pair of black high heeled shoes. For a long time I have wanted to add four extra garters to my No 1 garter belt and had located packets of two in the haberdashery dept. of a nearby department store. The problem, having the guts to go and buy four packets of black garters. One day I plucked up courage and with a pretend shopping list I approached the saleslady with the story that I needed some garters for a fancy dress of some sort. Would you believe after all the dry throats and having cased the joint a week before they were out of stock and the sales lady was noticeably uncomfortable and sure she was dealing with some sort of wierdo. This put me off trying again until this Christmas when I came up with a brilliant cover story. My four grown up sons still expect Christmas stockings on the chimney breast and for a joke I would hang them up with black garters. Great story, sales girls thought it a great laugh. Mission accomplished !!
Condoms
In my opinion an essential item in the cross dressers attire is the condom. Without one the pre cum pouring from your excited prick will eat away the delicate fabric of your hard won underwear, especially your silky panties. I first became interested in condoms at an early age when I discovered a long balloon in the local creek and took it home. Horror from parents, where did you get that filthy french letter, throw it away, nasty, dirty and never touch one again. There was something interesting here, what was a 'french letter'. Anyway I soon twigged that they looked rather like an erect cock when full of water and this was what I needed if bedtime masturbation was to continue without tell-tale stains. I found a few more but didn't rush home with them this time. I washed them very carefully in warm soapy water, dried them on a towel then rolled them up in a few sheets of toilet paper. When really dry I blew them up to separate the surfaces and applied some talcum powder. Slipping the rubber over my first two fingers then forming a 'V', I rolled my first condom into a usable form. I remember my cock had swelled to almost twice its normal erect size in anticipation, precum juice was everywhere. I rolled it down over the full length of my cock grasped it, took one stoke and promptly came with a gushing bursting luxurious orgasm, the teat almost filling to bursting point. I have delighted in condoms ever since. Fortunately in those days a good wash is strong soap was a good disinfectant and got rid of the previous users spunk. I don't think one could consider it particularly safe in these days of exotic sexually transmitted diseases.
I remember on one occasion coming upon what must have been a grand orgy on the grassy banks of a river. I found almost two dozen condoms, empty envelopes and the three-across packets, and wonder of wonders, oh delight a pair of sticky discarded black panties. I wanked fantasizing about the incident for months. Some wonderful fantasies are possible with re-cycled condoms. When wanking with any of the condoms from the orgy sight I would thrill to the thought that the rubber now clinging to my thickened cock had been deep inside a juicy slippery cunt, and the outside had been stretched taught over the swollen prick that was embedded in that cunt. I love the clinging feel of condoms on my cock, I like re-rolling condoms on my fingers, I will often suck the teat of a rolled condom as I wank inside another.
As a young lad I avidly collected the little envelopes that condoms were supplied in. Brand names like Durex and Ona still bring back memories of great finds. The hairdressers where the main source of condoms and were on display in their dozens all around the shop, but how the hell did a kid of ten go about obtaining some brand new unused condoms. I devised a complex scheme and wrote a letter purporting to be from my mother requesting the chemist to supply a pack of 12 condoms and a bottle of Durol lubricant. She couldn't get to the Chemists herself as she had broken her leg. I cycled from home on the eventful day with a dry throat and trembling hand. It was a hot day and as I gave my note to the Chemist I fainted in anticipation. When I came round the concerned sales staff were all looking down at me, the chemist asked my name and the name of my doctor. Luckily I was clear headed enough to remember the name of my fake condom deprived parent and the name of a doctor some miles away. I thought the game was up, but the chemist gave me a drink of something and when I felt better the prized packet of brand new condoms in a sealed package. I cycled home with delight and a throbbing, swelling prick but realized I had come close to disaster and exposure. Brand new condoms really didn't feel any different on my prick so I resolved to stay with re-cycled condoms for quite awhile and save on pocket money. I would use my re-cycled condoms until they virtually disintegrated on my knob in a wild wank. I would often read with lustful desire as I read adverts in some of the more dubious magazines at the hairdressers, for 'samples of twelve different condoms' including 'American tips' and 'french ticklers' the mind boggled and the penis grew bigger and firmer and throbbed in anticipation of the day when I could slip all these wonderful exotic erotic condoms onto its huge length.
Accessories
The primary items in the cross dressers wardrobe have to be panties, brassieres, garter belts and stockings. However there are times when accessories can add that extra fillip to the event. A very attractive skirt can be produced from a child size net ball skirt. This is intended to be wrap around but buying the small size means that an enticing gap can be positioned at the front to give glimpses of panties and garter belts whilst the abbreviated length ensures that stocking tops and garter clasps are just visible. Rotating the skirt around the waist so that the view is at the back is also stimulating, from the front a very demure, though short, pleated skirt is displayed. High heeled shoes can really enhance the look of stocking clad legs, I was lucky enough to come upon a pair which just grip the toes so the size is unimportant, they look stunning with black silk stockings and pure white ankle socks. A tight mini, white transparent lace blouse top over a black brassiere can look really cum-worthy.
Spic Span and Beautiful Britons.
These fantastic little magazines from England were my most sought after viewing for many years and I still have many copies in my collection. Page after page of shapely young girls in the most delightful array of underwear you could wish to see. I preferred the pictures taken out doors in tree lined groves with items of clothing strewn around as though a good fuck was about to take place. The girls always looked happy to show off there exquisite undies and pose in erotic positions, to me the important aspect of all these photos was the underwear rather than the girl and I lusted after every single garment. I would often visit a little arcade bookshop which sold these delights and spend a whole lunch time deliberating over which magazine to buy. Really I wanted to buy the whole lot and spend hours with every magazine open on the floor and roll around clad in my own undies rolling on the undies of all those scantily glad tarts. No--they weren't tarts, they were the girlfriends of some lucky sods who convinced these girls to flash their undies for public view. I loved them all.
The modern magazines are a total disappointment to me, page after page of bare tits and engorged clitorises swelling out of opened cunt lips. It's all really pretty boring and untimulating in it's sameness. The unknown is the most sought after, uncovered it looses its attraction and the sheer variety of brassieres, panties, garter belts and stockings in these old magazines are far more erotic. I always hope I'll come across something in the older style produced for the underwear fetishist and cross dresser.
A dress-up
Before starting a 'dress up' I endeavor to get fairly firm erection so that I can roll an unlubricated, powered condom onto my cock, I spit into the teat to add some lubricant for the head and glans of my prick if there is no natural precum juice present. I consider wearing a condom essential to protect my delicate panties from the corrosive effects of precum juice which can be produced in surprisingly large quantities during a prolonged 'dress up' session. I then let the erection subside, sometimes this is almost impossible if a new item of underwear has been acquired and is to be tried on. My 'wardrobe' is kept in a black business-like brief case. As I unlock it the lid will often burst open to reveal my wonderful collection. I first carefully lay out my panties and garter belts so that I can decide which I will wear on this occasion.
First item is always the black panties with the cock hole with another black pair over the top. I try to tuck my semi erect penis horizontally under the top band of the second pair of panties. I try to avoid looking in mirrors at this stage as this can easily ruin the illusion. I am quite fanatical about wearing my undies in the way a girl would, so I must be able to pull down my panties to do a pee without having to undo garters. I fit my garter belt around my waist and join the hooks then rotate it carefully to bring the front garters into the correct location, I then tuck the garters down inside my panties. I select a matching pair of black silk stockings and luxuriate in stretching each one up my leg to my crotch. (Silk stockings are well worth the extra cost both from the point of view of delightful feel and durability). I smooth out the stocking tops and carefully attach the garter clasps, I am very fussy about the garter clasp being at the very edge of the stocking top so as not to cause any crumpling of the clean edge. I position the two front garters between my legs as this gives a more erotic view in the mirrors when squatting, particularly when wearing high heeled shoes. I attach the other garters with equal care. As I mentioned earlier I wear another garter belt fitted back to front so that I have garters down the backs of my legs for rear views.
At present my favorite pair of under panties is the hi-cut black pair which cover the lower half of my garter belt. Selecting a pair of white or coloured over-panties can take some time as I try each pair on and test the feel and tightness. I invariably finish up with a couple of pairs of over-panties which together with the three pairs of black panties I'm already wearing makes a very satisfying five pairs of clasping panty tightness around my balls and cock, which is already trying to enlarge and escape from its silky confines. I now lay out my brassieres to make a selection. Generally a silky smooth black, rear hooked under-wire garment is selected although often the choice is so hard I wear two. All my brassieres have a small loop of elastic sewn into the lower edge of the front band and a similar loop is sewn into the top front edge of my No 1 garter belt. I have a short flesh coloured detachable brassiere strap which I hook into both loops, this stops the brassiere from rolling up and firmly secures my garter belt. This idea came from my second brassiere as I mentioned earlier. I quickly tuck my foam rubber breasts into each cup of my brassiere before I take my first look in the mirrors. Prick thrusts and tries to escape but I mutter 'Your time will cum !'
I have several mirrors which I position at different angles to give the most pleasing and erotic images. I fondle my brassiere clad breasts, stroke my panty clad hips and run my hands hard over my crotch to feel the throbbing bulge in the silky smoothness of my panties. I put on my white ankle socks, high heels and skirt and strut around admiring how shapely my silk clad legs look, parting the front of my shirt to reveal once again the panties and garters drawn taught by the stockings stretched over my legs. Next I pull my lace mini blouse over my head smooth it tight over my breasts and admire the shape and the way the black shiny brassiere glows through the flimsy fabric. Noticeable swelling is occurring beneath my panties. However the time is not ripe, I remove my skirt, blouse, falsies and high heeled shoes and don a pair of manly track suit pants and fairly thick pullover, so that the tell tale outline of my brassiere cannot be noticed through the material. I can now go almost anywhere without anyone knowing that underneath my male exterior I am wearing five pairs of panties, two brassieres, two garter belts, a pair of black silk stockings and a condom. Stroling along with my hands in the pockets I can trace out the edges of panties, and garter belt with my finger tips, outside I can detect the hardness of the garter belt clasps. As I walk I can feel precum juice making my prick inside its protective condom feel warm and moist, I hope it doesn't get so slippery that it falls off and I have the embarrassment of a sticky condom falling to the ground down my leg. That's one reason why I use a re-cycled, talcum powered condom rather that a new lubricated one. I complete my tantalizing stroll, remove my pullover and track suit pants, gasp at the beauty of my brassieres, panties, garter belts and stocking tops all over again.
I quickly put on my blouse, skirt and high heeled shoes, excitement is rising around the crotch area as I look in the mirrors, my breathing and heart rate are definitely faster and my throat is dry. I try to perform some normal tasks around the house, strut into the kitchen on my high heels, look down as I walk and admire the thrust of my brassiere clad breasts, panty clad hips, and silk stocking clad legs, I pour a refreshing drink with trembling hands. I go to the loo for a feminine pee, lifting my skirt and sliding four pairs of panties to my ankles over my garters and silk stockings, sitting on the toilet seat and noticing that my condom clad prick is pleading for something different. I stand up and reach down to pull my panties up and smooth them over my thighs and bottom, enjoying the silky feel once again.
I move to the mirrors and take up many erotic positions, hands caressing, twisting turning. I stand before the mirror glorying at the female vision before me, I reach inside my panties and release my huge throbbing prick to view. The condom is slippery to almost its full length with precum juice but is secure at the base. I attach one of my rubber masturbating devices to the tip of my engorged prick and swing around my prick enjoying its freedom and sensing the weight of the device. I quickly fit my elastic wanking harness around my neck, down behind my brassiere between my breasts then down and over my toes, I slip my swollen cock in the cuntal opening of the elasticized harness, and thrust my pelvis back and forth, the feelings are sensational and the views in the mirrors mind blowing, I squat down on my high heels close to the mirror to better view my stocking tops and garters so close to a throbbing prick. I stand again, legs apart, I remove my skirt for a better view of panties and garters as I gyrate and trust with my hips. I feel the climax rising in my groin as I thrust faster, hands flashing from breast to crotch, clasping, smoothing, groping, as my climax builds and builds and bursts forth in a gushing, swelling rushing flood of cum into my swelling disgorged condom. I gasp and shiver in delight and sink to my knees and see my prick dangling from a panty clad crotch and declare 'I really must stop doing this' but know that when the next urge occurs I will be helpless to resist, and the panties, garter belts, brassieres and black silk stockings will once again have there tantalizing magical transforming effect.