I was attracted to my big sister’s panties (I hate that word!) because, unlike my boring cotton jockey shorts (I hate “tighty-whiteys” even more!), her underwear was in different colors, and they had a shine to them. Most of them were slick to the touch. Silky. Yup, they were made of nylon. There was only so long I could stand and feel them through my 7 year-old fingers. I had to try them on. I remember vividly that she had a pastel blue pair, with lace around the top and leg openings, and were made of nylon. I stole them. I would hide them behind my bookcase. I would put them on any time I was alone. I knew they were made for girls. I don’t remember that being an issue. They looked “cute” on me. At the age of seven, I don’t remember having a fully formed sexual preference then. All I knew was that if I rubbed my dick when I had them on, it would eventually produce what I called then; the “Tingly Feeling.” Since I hadn’t started puberty, I didn’t produce semen. Which, actually was a plus because I could masturbate over and over without that post-orgasm feeling of wanting to stop. I’d have three or four orgasms before quitting. I mean, tomorrow’s another day, right?
Over the years, as I grew older, so did my collection of my sister’s silky underwear. Once, when I was all alone at home because the rest of the family went to a ball game I couldn’t care less about, I put on the original pair of panties and was content wearing just them, all by myself, around the house. I carefully went through my sisters drawers again, and came across a pair of her pantyhose (which I refer to now as “nylons”) and decided to try them on. I’d known what they were, it just wasn’t until that fateful day that I tried a pair on.
They felt fantastic! The slick and cool feel of my sister’s panties was now not only caressing my private parts, it seemed to encase my legs with the same feeling. That day, when my family was out, was the point at which I realized there were other undergarments made of the same awesome fabric. Not just underwear anymore. Eventually, when alone, I’d find myself wearing panties, and pantyhose all the time.
I didn’t want to become a girl. I didn’t want to have a sex change. I liked being a boy, as I like being a man now. I wasn’t confused at all. I just wanted to dress in my sister’s nylon underwear whenever I was alone. I eventually became worried my sister would catch on. If she did, I never knew it. But this resorted in me humiliatingly buying my own panties. I remember. It was at Zayre (not open anymore) and I quickly picked a pack of seven different color nylon panties. When I looked at them later, the nylon was very thin and cheap, and horrifyingly they had the days of the week on the front side. I’m not making this up!
I only wear nylon underwear now. And I can truthfully say to anyone, “It may not look like it, but this is made for men.”
If I only had had access to those “stores” when I was younger, I never would’ve worn my sister’s. (One site even specializes is nylons for men! http://www.glieberman.com PLEASE DON’T CALL THEM MANTYHOSE! They’re a bit more expensive than the average pair of L’eggs, but the product is totally amazing.)
[ I’m sorry. I don’t have any “My parents (or sister) caught me and punished me by making me wear girl clothes every day” stories. When you read those, always keep in mind that if the author claims that really happened to them? They’re lying their ass off.]