A breath of fresh air : Part 1
When you have slipped on your first pair of panties and the indescribable sensations play across your body and drill deep into your brain often you follow this up with shame. What were you thinking? What sort of pervert are you? Pre-internet it was hard to know whether you were the only one thus afflicted by the draw of feminine under garments. So, you pledged to yourself, to lessen the guilt and self-recrimination, that there would be no repeat offending. And for a while you kept your word but then a new catalogue appeared and right next to the women’s shoes section was the lingerie. If you were lucky you were able to retrieve the old catalogue from the rubbish and stash it secretly in your room. The stashing of something ‘forbidden’ would be a feature of your life thereafter!
The surprising thing about catalogues back then was that you were much more likely to see nipples and bush through the bra and panties. It appears we only got chaste after that. So before too long the urge to leaf through the catalogue grew and then there you were each night sneakily viewing the delights that women had available to them each day to feel sexy beneath their clothes and hiding the catalogue again afterwards.
If you were lucky a friend had an older brother and something more erotic like a Playboy or Penthouse would be available and do the rounds – a week each time. These were fevered nights magazine hidden by bedcovers book at hand to provide some plausible deniability if suddenly interrupted by a parent. The first magazine I ever saw was a 1972 Penthouse, so it was a couple of years old by the time I got to flick through it. There was a pretty innocent lesbian pictorial which I can vividly remember, and it was so erotic – fuelling for sure my fantasies of being dressed as a woman and engaging in the beautiful soft focused seduction early Penthouse magazines portrayed.
This was the golden age of magazine porn from these early soft-focus pictorials to progressively more explicit. Before long the pictures had the girls kissing and mouths close to breasts suggesting nipples about to be sucked. It looked so suggestive that it aroused a deep desire in me to have my nipples sucked. Then some pictorials had a suggestive finger close to each other’s privates indicating that it might have been placed on each other’s clits. Over the ensuing years a tongue was delicately poised at the entrance and there was more focus on the girls’ intimate parts. Eventually the camera was more in focus and the anus and pussy were published an almost gynaecological fashion – in my view a backward step. The essential ‘mystery’ was being lost. It was to happen though because the tongue or finger of one girl was getting closer and closer to the other in the months and years that followed then eventually there was penetration and from that point on everything was on offer. To be fair I preferred when something was left to the imagination.
It did mean however that each new Penthouse was greeted with a delicious sense of anticipation and as they got more daring so did I. I felt the need to wear panties while luxuriating in reading (err…) looking at the girls. While you can admire the feminine form in a straight forward single women pictorial the lesbian pictorials were by design more interactive and looking at these drew one in to wanting to be part of the mix…imagining being there and having the things being done, being done to you and doing the things that were being done. While other teenagers were probably getting aroused then quickly wanking, being in the moment and trying to live it in some ways made those sessions for me so much more engaging and therefore so much more arousing.
Of course, by then (if you had read any of my other blogs) I was freely wearing panties bought by my Mum. That said my secret stash of bras also came into play. Mum never really did get into buying me bras I assume because she realised, I had no breasts. Unbeknownst to her I really did want breasts so the full delights of what I was seeing could be experienced at its fullest height of pleasure. She did however buy me some brand panty sets ostensibly on the basis that the panties were lovely, and they came as a matching pair. Anyway, I would be lying in my bed magazine at ready, panties on, book to my side for quick deployment and a bra under my tee shirt. My favourite times were when I could lie in bed in just bra and panties, but this was always a risk. Not so much for Mum but Dad would have freaked!
Anything that could make the experience more sensual or real was explored. As an only child I was sent to my Aunts for school holidays. She was my Mum’s sister and a hippy chick of sorts. A nurse by profession she just seemed to be much younger than Mum but maybe it was more her laidback attitude and being unmarried. Sometimes one of my cousins would also stay but that’s another story. It is at my Aunts in search of panties – my supply being left behind as my Mum thought it would be too hard to explain (she told her later) – that ‘stealing from the hamper became a bit of a habit. I couldn’t risk some of her fresh panties because it meant sneaking into a no-go zone – her bedroom. Added to that what I intended to use them for needed them to be soiled anyway so that they could go straight back into the laundry hamper. Of course, at first this was not my favourite option. I would rifle through the hamper to find the pair least soiled, or to put it another way most like a fresh pair from her drawer, although sometimes it was a choice between a more soiled pair that were sexier or a fresher plainer pair. The sexier won every time.
I’m not sure the exact moment that it happened but one time I drew a pair of sexy but soiled pair of panties to my nose. I guess I was getting more interested in what women smelt like ‘down there’. Anyway, long story short I was hooked. I breathed in her feminine fragrance and a new dimension to women’s underwear suddenly opened to me…one that remains to this day.
Posted By Trudie on Sunday 18th November 2018 @ 13:00:12
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