Tucked up in bed I continually experimented with my new found erection.
Maybe I was eleven or twelve years old. Night after night I’d stroke my
pleasure cock, it would get big and hard and the more I stroked the better,
more ecstatic I felt. I knew I was heading somewhere good. I don’t know why,
and I don’t remember exactly how, but within a month or two I found myself
doing this caressing and massaging in two pairs of panties. I knew my mum had a
drawer for all her knickers, and among them were two silky, lacy pairs. The
smaller pair were white, all lacy at the front with a little pink bow sewed in
the waist band. My big cock always peeked its purple head out of the top of
these. The other exquisite pair were a kind of light green, and all silky with
dainty lace around each of the leg openings and waistband, and big enough to
hold my cock encased in a first silky prison. Wearing both I would stroke my
cock, instinctively knowing this was somewhere lovely. Still night after night
I would lie under the blankets caressing, stroking, dry-wanking for sheer
pleasure. And then one night, my caressing turned to cream. I had no idea what
was happening, but knew this new juicy intensity was gorgeous. Feeling my first
spurting gush of boy cream I moved my pantie elastic high and clear as the jets
of sticky come spurted all over my belly. And then the first guilt rush.
Tugging the panties down my thighs and over my ankles, how could I get them
back in my mum’s top drawer as quickly as possible. Of course, I had to wait till
the next morning.
A pattern was set. I just had to taste more, ever chasing the silky
pantie encasement holding my balls and cock so pretty. And then those thick
wads of my cream being spent on my belly. And so captured by it all, I was
always full of dare, creeping in, slowly pulling open the drawer so thrilled in
anticipation. First, the aroma of the scented drawer came forth, all soaps and powder.
On one side there would be the pantie girdles and bras, and to the other side
were the loosely piled arrangement of cotton panties. Underneath was what I was
searching for, the familiar silky green pair and further down the little white
lacy ones. I felt each one, wondering, but really knowing how they would feel,
always drawing out my two special pairs, convincing myself that my mum would
never know they had disappeared for another night. That lovely strange feeling
again came over me as I knew what awaited me under the duvet that night.
Again I covered my cock in my new lacy heaven. But now knowing what
followed the pre-come, my new slippery creamy substance came much more quickly.
I shuddered and jolted in glee, suppressing my gasps. I was in pure ecstasy,
tasting joy and sensuality in panties for the first time. I quickly dabbed
myself clean with some carefully torn toilet tissue, making sure none of my
cream could mess my panties. All relief and confusion, then a little of the
guilt pang would click in. And how to put my panties back in the drawer...
Later, to my amazement I discovered that if I lay down and dragged my
cock out of the side of my panties, I wouldn’t have to hold them by their
waistband, and the same wonderful experience could happen, my creamy come
caught in the sheets of carefully positioned toilet tissue. Then, the
refinement process began. I could try tights between the two panties, wow!!
They were smooth and made my little white panties lovely and tight around my
cock and balls. And if I slipped some doubled and tripled toilet tissue into my
panties just where my big cock would throw its cream, then by rubbing myself
into a pillow the ecstasy would return very quickly.
During the following
months later, as I regularly returned to the chest of drawers, I experimented
and discovered that it was really all panties at all times that made my feel
good. First I began to keep my panties on through the weekend days till I just
had to stroke and cream my femmie cock, and only then slip them off. Even then
I would keep them in my drawer knowing I’d be back up for more within hours.
And I remember trying on a pair of pink cotton hipster type ones, and then the
thrill of a pantie girdle and my little bit of toilet tissue tucked inside to
catch my spurts of cream as I found that coming in my panties all tight was the
best. I even began looking in the laundry basket at bath time looking to see
what was in the pile. I remember particularly enjoying the feel of wearing
tights in the bath, and pissing and then rubbing myself off in the wettest,
smoothest surrounds. How I thought I could place the tights back in the laundry
basket all wet and messy without my mum wondering is beyond me now. But at the
time, I’m sure the chase for the sensual pantie-rush could have convinced me of
anything.
My
fate was set. Just the mention of the word “panties” would ignite my flame. And
a life using panties, caring for them, buying them, wearing them, licking the
scent of a lover from them… Audrey knows just a glimpse of them is enough to
enflame my adoring interest.
