FOREWARNING: given you have read this far… this one has some real adult (aka, sexual) topics and conversation. it may be too graphic for most. there is going to be a lot of detail here…. heavily sexualized. i am not really holding much back here.
so – to address the elephant in the room… just as i mentioned before… this was not a sexual thing for me at 5, 6, 8, 10, etc years old. it was about me being who i am and being happy. but, those injections kick started my puberty like a supercharger. and while it still today is not really a sexual thing for me… i would be a liar to say that its NEVER about sex.
at a certain point around 12-13 or so i got wise, and realized if i didnt steal others things… maybe i wouldnt get caught ALL THE DAMN TIME. so, 13 year old me mustered up the courage and swallowed my pride enough to walk into the local drug store, find what i thought might be a sympathetic cashier (or at least not one my age). went to the back, and walked out paying for my own lingerie. yes… i know… drug store lingerie – sounds great, doesnt it? it was pretty terrible…. but it was mine. in hindsight… they knew. i mean – what preteen boy is going to walk in with cash and buy lingerie? of course they knew.
i may have had chubbies as a pre-teen… or maybe occasional morning wood… but never something i was cognizant of, or paid much attention to. and certainly never intentional or did anything about it.
one weekend, a couple of years after my parents had divorced… i was left home alone. the siblings were off doing other things, and i had the house to myself. naturally, that was the first thing on my mind. i pulled out my personally bought stash, and stripped my clothes. i didnt have an entire outfit, but i had panties, hose, and a cute camisole thing, and i figured i would be happy with it. and i was.
something happened…. it was like my hormones finally engaged at just that moment. one second, i had no idea my libido even existed… the next – its cranked to 100. as i put my legs through and started to pull the panties upwards… i felt it deeeeep in my loins. this surge, and rush just washed over me. i remember thinking that it made me a little nervous… it felt too good. i didnt know what was happening.
but as i slid them up and over myself, the very second the silk touched the right spot… the shivers of ecstasy just knocked me off my feet. that was the very first time i had an orgasm. it was e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e
i laid there for a moment catching my breath and trying to understand what had just happened. i remember from school, and all the locker room talk… you had to put your penis in a vagina for that to happen – so HOW did that just happen??!!?
i let myself cool off a while, and decided i needed to wash those new panties before mom got home so i could hide them away clean. i cleaned myself up and went back to my room. i decided i would throw on the rest to go do my laundry and some chores so i could utilize every free moment i had.
aaaaand yep. it happened again. literally just 5-10 minutes after the first time… the nylon did it as much, if not more. how was this happening? i didnt masterbate. i didnt even touch myself. but just the feel of that nylon against my skin…. i laid there in pure bliss for around 20 minutes. but that was ended as i came back to reality and realized that whatever had just happened, had ruined my happy time…. and i got really upset with my body again.
part of what draws me to it is the visual appeal… the soft silky lines… the beautiful designs… the way it caresses and compliments the form, and that it just felt natural to me. but after that experience, i was equally drawn in by the feel. soft, silky… the tingles it gives me are indescribable. but, as mentioned above… its a double edged sword. i am not wearing or enjoying these things for a sexual experience… so my sex drive sometimes got in the way.
you may have keyed in on something, and be curious that this all just seems to focus on lingerie. and for the most part – it does. its not exclusive to that… but at no point in my life (as a child, or after i grew up) was i ever considered “passable”. i would not be fooling anyone. while wearing more would be fine… it didnt serve much of a purpose as i was never going to anywhere others might see me. it was just more to hide… and certainly, tougher to hide.
im not sure when the thoughts started again, but sometime very quickly afterwards, i started wondering what all that meant. again… am i gay? well… lets think about it – not rule it out. does sleeping with a guy make you horny? maybe, but not really, no. how about that girl in class? yessssss. ok – so im not gay. well… what the hell am i? ………… crickets………… i had nothing. i didnt understand, and i had nobody to talk to about it.
i kept going back to that mantra i was force fed as a child from the preacher… if i didnt want to kiss a boy, then all of this “wanting to be pretty” stuff was just me being sick. sadly, it took me another 20 years to figure out that single statement had corrupted my brain so thoroughly. sexual preferences, and gender concepts are not mutually exclusive.
i remember seeing nudy mags (this is the days before the internet) all the time in those years. i started collecting them as most do around my age, but quickly started to realize something. when i went over to a friends house, and he was showing off his collection… mine were… different. the girls that got their attention… and on every cover and centerfold… were these over manufactured nude bodies in spread eagle poses, showing everything for the world to see from their insides out. i didnt intentionally look for something else… but realized after seeing these mags that everyone else had, that all of mine were definitely not the same and were really tame by comparison. i wasnt looking for nudity… i was looking for beauty. one of my *ahem* most used was a beautiful brunette woman on the cover of a playboy… she was wearing black lace top thigh highs and these teeny tiny black silk panties and a crop top. i remember thinking how perfect her curves were… just these elegant lines that sculpted her body… this gentle slope that traces her silhouette. every cover was some variation of that…. but they always had lingerie on.. they were elegant… beautiful… not these slutty or whorish women that all the guys i knew were drooling over.
i was more attracted to (which coincidentally, was my absolute favorite of all time, even to this day) the cover of playboy with a completely clothed kathleen turner, than what all the other boys had. kathleen just oozed sensuality, beauty, and class… i wanted to be her. i was jealous of her. she did it for me… and i was in a battle between wanting to be her, or be with her… and couldnt figure out which or both. i couldnt understand… how i was aroused by her, but also jealous of her.
but that is what highlighted the difference between myself and other boys my age, and i remember being very aware of that… and always just said that i didnt have any if anyone asked. they looked at those because they were horny… nude woman and they are aroused. i didnt. i had them because i wanted to BE them. i was jealous of them. i wanted to look like them. i wanted to be adored like them. i wanted to wear what they had. i wanted to be beautiful like them. it wasnt necessarily lusting over them… it was lusting over a personal goal for me to achieve… one i would never reach, but a fantasy world where i was just like them.
naturally…. i kept that to myself.