PANTY STORY # 58

Mom's Panties

Dear LLAPA, I would like to submit a panty story for your website. You have a Great site too, I must add. Thanks for being out there for all us "guys-in-panties". (And there are lots of us). I am a guy who definitely loves wearing ladies’ panties and have been doing so on occasion since I was 11 years old and I discovered my mother’s underpants on a hot July afternoon. It’s that humorous first experience with her undies that I’d like to retell here.

It was summer and I was rapidly hitting puberty as I was going through my "chubby-stage", as I call it. It all began because of a weekly household ritual, which changed my sexuality forever; otherwise I’d be a ‘normal’, regular guy. Thank God it did happen. You see, every Saturday morning in our home was special for me for two reasons: first, I woke early to watch Saturday-morning cartoons, and two, because my mother (God rest her soul) used this day to shave her legs. I remember sitting in the living room watching the Smurfs as mommy sat at the dining room table in her purple nightgown which she would tuck up into the waistband of her briefs smoking cigarettes with her legs all smeared in Nair leg shave cream. I can still see her sitting nonchalantly at her place at the table waiting patiently for the little timer to go off every time I smell that noxious smell of ladies’ leg shaving cream. Being at a very impressionable young age, this was probably not the wisest thing for a mother to be doing. Little did she know she would be making a panty-fiend out of her tender little boy. I would take timid little peaks at her panties between long uninterested glances at the television screen. For some reason I was simply so fascinated by those big, soft, white underpants she wore. She used to wear simple plain white nylon "old-lady-style" briefs, nothing too overtly sensual. More suited to comfort than anything else. But there was something about the swell of her round tummy comfortably hugged inside of those soft, silky underpants, something that I just had to discover for myself. She looked so relaxed and comfortable smoking cigarette after cigarette with her completely exposed legs all white with shaving lotion. I used to love to just watch her walk around the house in her underpants like that, doing everyday mundane things like pouring a cup of coffee or answering the phone.

She looked just simply beautiful. I suppose Sigmund Freud would say there was something irresistibly naughty about witnessing something that’s supposed to be forbidden like the taboo sight of a woman in her underwear, let alone your very own mother. My mother’s underpants were a secret, beautiful world that I was forbidden to even know about, let alone tread. Little did anyone suspect I would dare to explore that world very, very soon.

The temptation was simply more than I could resist. It was only a matter of time until I would sneak my first pair of her panties all on my own in private one rainy day out of the bathroom hamper. I suppose now, I wanted to be as pretty as she was, and treat myself to a secret little pleasure as she did every Saturday morning. Without even knowing what I was doing, I pulled the delicate panties out of the cold damp hamper and undressing myself from head-to-toe, slipped them on. A sudden shock went up my spine that both frightened me and exhilarated me at the same time. Suddenly I knew I was breaking a great taboo. I timidly lifted my head to look at myself in the bathroom mirror wearing a pair of my very own mother’s underpants. I knew my family would be shocked and very upset if they knew what I was up to. But the inner "high" was too much for me and I started to rub my buttocks and tummy and feel that lovely-lovely silky nylon on my tender young boyish body. My heart dropped to my knees as I knelt down on the floor and instantly lathered up a hand-rag with sudsy soap. I soaped up my mom’s panties in little circles in what seemed like infinity and unbeknownst to me at the naïve age of eleven, I started to soap up my genitals without realizing what I was doing.

In just moments my head started to wriggle on its own in uncontrollable jerky little movements and my body convulsed in warm heaves as hot creamy fluid blasted out of my tiny undiscovered penis. I watched helplessly and terrified as my mother’s underpants squirted bloats translucently in ripples of thick ooze. I shivered as I felt the hot liquid dripping down my still hairless supple testicles. I was shocked. What had just happened? I felt as though my mother’s panties had raped me and were now laughing at me. I ripped them off, cleaned myself up, buried the panties under numerous towels in the hamper and swore I had learned my lesson well. That I’d NEVER dare do that again. I just wanted to forget it. I was so overwhelmed by shame. Little did I know at the time that I’d be back for more in just a fortnight’s time. I wouldn’t say I have an oedipal complex, or have "the hots" for my own mother, but I have been in love with ladies' panties ever since that rainy July afternoon in the summer of 1979. In all the time since, I’ve been with many different girls and women over the years, but my favorite vision of womanhood is dear old mom sitting comfortably every Saturday morning with her nightgown stuffed into those big beautiful nylon briefs of hers. It’s my most dear memory of my mother, (she passed away with lung cancer ten years ago), that I now carry with me. I think of those Saturday morning "rituals" we secretly shared together every time I put on a big, soft pair of pretty nylon briefs. I love you mom, and I love your panties, I miss you dearly, All my love forever, "Little Ricky"

Sincerely yours,

'Nedda

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