A Short Rant about My Underwear

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Some random thoughts on the subject of panties.
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I was doing laundry today and started thinking about my underwear and my life. My relationship with lingerie had changed throughout my life, and I started thinking about my panties of there years and how they were a reflection of my life and moods.

So I sat down and wrote about it. Not sure if it's worth reading or not, but I thought "what the hell" so I posted it here.

When I was growing up, underwear was something you bought in 3 packs at the local 5 and Dime. It was like socks, only they didn't have to match anything else you were wearing. This was before Victoria's Secret, internet porn and the sexual revolution. Underwear was just something to wear under your denims. No sexual connotations or even a second thought given.

That all changed when I got a wedding invitation from a girl I had gone to high school with. We had both graduated and I wanted to see her, so I bought a cocktail dress. We lived in farm country and just about everyone in town wore blue jeans, so it was a pretty extravagant purchase. It was a sexy dress and I felt sexy wearing it.

At the wedding reception, I got invited to dance by a fairly handsome man about my age. We danced a lot of song, and during close ones he kind of ground on me after a while. I remember I actually felt an erection forming in his pants and I liked it - a lot actually. So much so that I got a case of wet panties. I was horrified.

I went into the bathroom and tried to dry myself off, but the scent was still there. I put the underpants in a small bag I kept tampons in and put them in my purse. So here I was in my first cocktail dress, and I was what I would come to learn was called "going commando." I spent the whole rest of that day making sure my dress wouldn't sneak up on me.

It was intoxicating. Dirty. Liberating. I'd never felt anything like it and it actually scared me a little. I knew I was naked under there even if everyone else didn't. I really didn't even understand why it turned me on so much, it just did.

For weeks after that party, I had dreams about everyone finding out about me being naked under that dress, and I must have masturbated to the fantasy several dozen times. I had never thought much about dresses or lingerie much before that wedding reception, but the memory of how daring and sexy I felt knowing I was bare under there stayed with me.

I didn't suddenly become a panty-less commando, but I remember I did go without when I went out on a hot date. We went back to the room and I remember he almost looked disappointed when he pulled up my skirt and found no underwear. I asked him about it later, and he said it was like getting a birthday present that wasn't wrapped. I decided then I would never completely understand men.

Lesson learned though - men liked to see women in their underwear. Check.

I stepped up my panty game a bit. When the occasion rose that a man got to see my panties or what was beneath, I never got the disappointed look.

Dresses became part of my life when I moved in with a boyfriend who, as it turned out, had a bit of a fetish for women in lingerie. Again, this was a much more innocent time, so the idea that a man would enjoy lace and satin more than an unobstructed view of me in the buff was a bit confusing at first, but I really loved this man.

Panties were a common gift and I developed quite a collection. It was an education for me because I learned to incorporate my lacy and silky things into sex acts. A blow job got hotter if I wrapped my satin panties around his balls. Boob fucking was more exciting for him if I let him slide in under my bra. I didn't get it, and some of the stains and laundry issues sucked, but I liked love attention he was giving me when I played along.

When my boyfriend went to prison (long story) and I was left to my own devices, my underwear habits fell apart along with the rest of my life. Soon I was back to mismatched, tattered under things. My underwear was a reflection of my life - stained, torn, and unkept. The class of men I was fucking at the time seemed not to care much. They were also pretty unkept and mismatched.

A white knight arrived and saved me from myself, he moved me from the cornfields of the midwest to the silicon valley. (Another long story.)

My new husband was absolutely disgusted at my underwear habits and dismayed that I didn't even seem to own a matching set of bra and panties. Along with the evening gowns, business casual attire and other wardrobe necessary required to live my new life as the wife of a successful executive, I acquired a healthy collection of lingerie for every occasion.

In my little home town, most of the things I wore weren't even available for purchase, be they sensible or sensual. Now I had it all.

There were soft, high cut, sensible underwear best for going to the country club where I attempted to learn golf and tennis, two sports my husband loved (and I sucked at.)

There were the tight, silky and exquisitely tailored panties, bras, slips and other underthings that made for a smooth line under form fitting evening dresses.

I got my first sports bra - something I wish had been invented when I was running track in high school - and just about everything in the drawer had a matching top of bottom.

Balance. Variety. Abundance. A wealth of choices. All well laundered, free of snags and holes. I could change clothes in the women's changing room in the club without embarrassment and, when the occasion came up, disrobe in from of other couples to enter their hot tub or sauna.

My new wide variety of underwear reflected my new life. I came to the philosophy then that you can tell a lot about a woman by looking at her underwear drawer, which has led me to a habit of snooping when staying at friends homes or attending house parties.

Another aspect of lingerie was its marvelous ability to satisfy the moods of a new husband.

I learned that most men had a fetish for some kind of lingerie. His was for the softer and more generously cut panties that women wore in the 70's. My husband had viewed many a Playboy during that era, and his taste in panties reflected what he had seen in photos. I knew I could get his attention whenever I wore that style, and I wore them a lot. I tried to make it innocent - not a seduction move - but I knew when I had them on that I had his full attention.

I also found that he expected the most tasteful and luxurious lingerie when we attended events like business socials and cocktail parties. It was like my underwear choices were a reflection on the personal brand he wished to convey to professional clients. He was quite pleased when I toed the line and went all out. His clients never saw them but he did, and somehow that helped to project the image he wanted.

Most important though, was that I discovered the role of panties - or the lack of them - as a great peace maker.

My new husband had a job full of demands and stress. The international nature of his occupation meant that he was either traveling globally or on the phone at all hours. He was a good man, but could get cranky and irritable at times and more often then not it was when we were out at a business related event. I was a country bumpkin - not very sophisticated - and inevitably I'd use the wrong fork or otherwise fuck up and that would be enough to get him irritated.

The above makes him sound like a manipulative, controlling asshole, but he wasn't. He was really a nice guy who had some problems with stress management, and I found a ready cure.

I found that simply and discretely handing him my underwear after a trip to the bathroom sidelined a fight that was clearly brewing. It was like I threw up the white flag to stop a war (though more often than not they were red or blue) and it reset the whole evening for him.

Good lingerie, they say, is made for taking off, and I found that taking my panties off to surprise him was a great way to keep him happy and horny. It worked while we sat through an overly long awards dinner, the dinner meeting with the insufferable clients, and a thousand other social functions. When we had such obligations, it was pretty rare that my underwear made it home at the end of an evening in other than in his pocket, my purse or under the car seat. I always started off wearing them but either he would tug them off or I would at some point.

I learned the simple power of telling him that I wasn't wearing any and saw the way that it would totally change his attitude. I also found that when he enjoyed my not wearing underwear I ended up enjoying not wearing underwear. He was a pretty good lover when I had been teasing him all evening. The sex was pretty hot.

When it became obvious to him that I was a lovable enough wife but needed some additional polish, he used his contact and ample pocket book to get me into a good university. Campus back then was mostly jeans territory and VPL's (visible panty lines) led to another great discovery.

After a cross country and track regime in high school and the end to a half decade addiction to coke, speed and meth, I was finally growing an ass - which was a new experience for me. With my rounding posterior, panty lines started becoming an issue. Unless I wore either granny big cut or the little bitty ones that I've never actually found comfortable, I'd be in the middle of campus and become aware that I had ass stripes showing through the material in the rear of my jeans.

So I would go to the bathroom and take my undies off. I found the tightness of the jeans and the rough denim material touching my bare skin to be very stimulating, and I think that helped my grades.

I'll always remember when I came to that realization. It was a big final, and I was freaking. I was due to show up at the testing center in about 40 minutes, but I was a big stress ball.

I ducked into a restroom with the intent of jilling off (it had helped before) but there was too much traffic for that.

I had been a bit turned on by the idea of doing it so I had been wet before I went into the bathroom, but now the dampness and scent of my underwear bothered me, so before I left the stall I pulled them off then tossed them in the trash on the way out the door.

The stress melted away as I walked out that door, and I really did well on the test. It was like a revelation.

I don't think I wore panties into the test center again during the entire 6 years I was in school. I always wore them to the campus - but always took them off before the test. It was like a ritual I did for luck. I went through a lot of underpants but got good grades.

So now I know that panties could reflect my moods, could effect the relationship (and relations) I had with my husband, and could help me relieve stress, and those are valuable personal reflections.

I guess some of them are an argument for going commando all the time, but panties do serve a purpose so I just about always wear them. They can prevent chafing and camel toe when wearing tights and of course they provide some protection during certain times of the month in that they help to hold pads in place. Living, as I do in the Pacific Northwest, the undies help stop that cold breeze that can come up off Puget Sound. (Going commando underneath a skirt or dress can be chilly when walking down the streets, and such attire is policy at my office.)

Sometimes though, when I am having a bad day or have an important meeting coming up I'm nervous about, I'll just reach down at my desk and drop them off. (I did this more than once even when I worked in a cube - it was kind of a fun thing and I would have died had I ever been caught.)

I'm not an exhibitionist - I don't go ride around jumping rope or climb ladders or anything. No shoe store salesperson has stories to tell about seeing Twyla's twat. I just do it for me.

On occasion, though, I will go for lunch and forget about my pantsless status and travel the many escalators and glass walled upper floors of shopping mall and office buildings. These travels could provide a lucky few with a good viewing angle. I catch myself on occasion standing at the top of a stairway landing or near a railing of elevated walkway, and when I do take a moment to realize my situation, I don't work very hard to take elevators instead. There's something a bit thrilling about the idea that I might be being admired for my "southern charms."

My husband often says "neckties are a great source of enjoyment - once removed" and I feel the same way sometimes about underwear. If he only knew of my pantie-less travels through the heart of Seattle during my everyday routine. I'm not sure whether he would like it or not. But his opinion is not important on this.

End of Rant.

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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 4 years ago
I was ordered to stop wearing underwear by my husband

My Husband and I are both Doctors, I trained as a GP and my husband specialised in female health. When he asked me to marry him he said I was only to accept if I was willing to dress 'in a healthy fashion'. That meant only wearing skirts and dresses, and only wearing underwear during my period. He insisted underwear was unhealthy. I said that was completely unreasonable and in-practical, but as he (quite rightly) pointed out, it was no different to how women had dressed for hundreds of years, and he was a Doctor (and now a professor) so I trusted his judgement, and I've not worn pants for almost 30 years.

Gr8PussyLoverGr8PussyLoverover 4 years ago
Panty discovery

One thing I love is discovering the color and type of panties a lover is wearing. Also love the occasional glimpse of panties thru being in the right place at the right time. And a bare pussy is just as exciting in my opinion.

Privates1stClassPrivates1stClassover 5 years ago
Going commando

There's a time and place for panties, but when she lets me know she isn't wearing any because she knows I prefer her not wearing them, well, that's sexy.

Enjoyed your story.

execuwriterexecuwriterover 5 years ago
Most enjoyable

This is one of the hottest stories I've ever read. To be allowed to delve into someone's intimate thoughts rather than fantasies is truly a privilege.

HighPlainsDrifterHighPlainsDrifterover 5 years ago
Great read

Thanks for this. A great read. I very much enjoyed reading about your panty evolution. As a bit of a panty freak I truly enjoyed learning about your experiences. Thanks so much for sharing!

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