As a high school student, girls were always on my mind. However, I was terribly awkward around them. I place part of the blame on my mother who in junior high, when asked to buy me a required athletic supporter for gym class, replied “Freddy, you don’t have anything to support!” Well, that was painfully obvious to me who changed clothes in the locker room with the other guys, but didn’t need the positive enforcement from mom.
In any case, it seemed like my primary goal in high school was to go to the library and look for opportunities to see girls in their skirts and hope to get a lucky glimpse up their skirts of stocking tops, garter belt straps (oh God!), or the exciting peek of a lace slip. My excitement was often rewarded, and I just loved, loved, loved girls!
I rode a school bus to school and a particular girl caught my eye. Marcia was short, just a little plump, and wore skirts that were a little too short for her body style. but she wore nylon stockings which drove me crazy. I would always try and position myself in a seat where, if I were really lucky, I could get a look at those gorgeous legs. She lived close to me, and I had been admiring her for some time. She noticed my attention and would at first just smile and say hello, but eventually understood that she had a bit of a hold on me. As the bus would slowly empty of students, we were free to move around to other seats. One afternoon she moved to a seat that was diagonal to me and gave me a wonderful leg shot. I felt like a drooling puppy when she said, “What are looking at nosy?” I was tongue tied and did not reply. Then she got up and moved into the seat behind me and that is when I did the bravest thing I have ever done in my life.
My heart was pounding. It was just Marcia and I, and the bus driver who occasionally would look at us in the rear-view mirror. I crossed the Rubicon. I slowly lowered my arm over the seat and touched her stocking clad knee. It was electric. I was so scared but thrilled at my bravery. Marcia did nothing to discourage me and when it got time for me to exit the bus, I walked painfully up the aisle with my notebook hiding the excitement in my loins. As the bus pulled away the sight of Marcia smiling broadly out the window marked a major change in my life. In the weeks ahead we would repeat the exercise and for many years after Marcia would haunt my dreams in the best way.
As I got older, I realized that my attraction to girls was a bit conflicted. I really liked girls, but I came to know that I was just as attracted to their clothes. An encounter with a pair of pink panties before the age of ten planted a seed in me that would never go away. Like many crossdressers, my first foray into wearing panties was taking a pair of my sister’s panties and locking myself in the bathroom and slowly pulling them up my legs, enjoying the confusing thrill, and then quickly taking them off and replacing them in the laundry basket.
Opportunities to wear panties were few and far between, but as I began dating and got into serious relationships with girlfriends and then with my spouse those opportunities increased. I became aware of both the “visual” and the “tactile” elements of my attraction to lingerie. The look and the feel of the garments on my body keep me hooked. I love them on my wife, but I love them on me more! And to be honest, I admire them on other crossdressers.
Lord help me!
Thank you all for taking the time to read my article. I look forward to hearing your responses!