Men Wearing Panties, Pantyhose, And Lingerie
Submitted Stories
Title: Being Pantied
After my first night with Lois, it was clear that I enjoyed being pantied, but for several weeks, it was reserved for our lovemaking. She would call me her pantyboy, and I knew soon she would put me in panties, but other than being in panties most of what we did was fairly conventional—but I certainly didn?t want more.
In the evening, if she put me in panties, she often had me wear one of her sleepshirts. Then one night, she suggested I put on a babydoll set. No matter how much lace or what the color, a sleepshirt was a shirt . . . and it?s length hid my panties, which I thought of as a secret little fetish. I didn?t think of them as anything much more than a slightly feminine shirt. A babydoll was something quite different. Sleeveless, with a cups for her breasts, and ever so sheer with matching panties, when Lois wore a babydoll it not only didn?t hide her feminine charms—as people used to say—but it accentuated them.
?Please, no,? I whispered. I knew I wouldn?t win. If Lois wanted something, saying no just made her dig in her heals more.
?It?s such a little thing, for my pantyboy.?
?But it?s so—?
?Feminine?? Lois smiled.
?Yes,? I blushed.
?How about just the panties??
They were shear, blue, with light blue feathery fluff around the legs and waist.
?I—?
She let it drop for a while. We had some wine. We talked and laughed. We kissed. She began to tease me about the babydoll set again—?you?ll be so cute?—and somehow we were almost wrestling. Laughing and wrestling—until there I was on my back with Lois over me, her knees on either side of my head. She lifted her skirt. She enjoyed showing me her panties as much as I enjoyed looking.
?That?s cheating,? I said.
?Oh?? she laughed, dropping skirt. ?Better??
?Show me,? I whispered.
She lifted her skirt again. ?For my pantyboy.?
She was wearing salmon colored satin and lace panties. Each leg was surrounded in lace trim. A few strands of her brown hair stuck out. I could see the imprint of her bush in the satin over her mound, and the shape of her pussy disappearing between her legs. She pressed herself against my mouth.
With her pussy pressed against my mouth, I looked up at her. She was watching, smiling, as she pressed herself against my face. The first time she did this, I closed my eyes, but she grabbed my hair, ?No, keep your eyes open. I want you to see. To see my pussy pressed into your mouth. I want you to see that I?m watching you . . . watching as you worship my pussy.?
My hands squeezed her ass. I breathed in her scent. Rich, full, aroused.
Then she lifted away from me an inch or two. ?Will you wear the babydoll??
I tried to pull her back to me. I tried to lift my head to her.
?Will you??
I wanted to taste her. I wanted to feel her squirm against my face. I wanted to pleasure her. ?Yes,? I whispered.
She let me kiss her again for a few second. ?What did you say?? She teased.
?I want to wear your babydoll.? And, I realized to my shame, I really did want to feel it on me, I really did want to wear it for her.
Lois smiled, and she gently pressed her satin covered pussy against my face. ?My pantyboy,? she whispered as she pressed her thighs tightly against my head.
Her hips wiggled and squirmed, grinding her pussy into my face. I slid my hands inside her panties, to feel the flesh of her ass. I heard her groan. She grabbed my head and pulled it up hard into her. Her panties tasted of arousal. Suddenly stiff, she came on my face.
We lay together. Kissing. Touching. Caressing.
?Dress for me,? she whispered.
My heart raced. Usually I put panties on after a shower or bath. Usually I had a shirt on. Now she would watch. She would see.
I stood up and in the middle of the room, I took my clothes off. Lois sat up to watch. Naked, more naked than I had ever felt, I stood . . . conscious that my cock had softened with my anxiety. I picked up the panties and put them on. They were so feminine. And my cock twitched, hardened, and stiffened as I slid them up.
My hands shook as I slid the top over my arms and pulled it down. I thought the hem would hide my cock, which swollen hard suddenly felt obscene in a babydoll. But when I turned, I felt the night air against the tip, and I knew, without looking, that my arousal at being dressed was fully exposed. I felt silly, no, sick, perverted, only sissies dressed like this, only sissies, only sissies. I looked up.
Lois was smiling. She motioned me to the bed, to her. ?How beautiful you look.? She kissed me. ?Thank you,? she whispered. She removed her blouse and her skirt. ?Take my bra off,? she asked.
It hooked in the front, and when I had it open, I suckled her nipples. I put my leg over hers and began to hump her thigh.
?Baby, slow down.?
?I need—?
?To cum? You feel so hot in a babydoll, don?t you??
I sat up. She was right. I nodded, yes.
?I like you dressed.?
?It makes me feel . . . ? I couldn?t find the word. I loved the feel of panties, but the babydoll wasn?t just about the feel of satin or lace against my skin. I was dressed as a woman; and I felt tremendous shame. Shame that I was wearing lingerie for Lois; shame that it aroused me so much; same that my body betrayed my sense of manhood. And my cock couldn?t have been harder. I wanted to take her.
?Shhhh,? Lois caressed my face, ?you don?t need to tell me. I can see. How sweet you look. How sexy. Take my panties off.?
I pulled her panties down. Holding them in my hand, I looked at her. Her large breasts were flattened out, and her nipples were hard. Her the curve of her tummy, the magnificent brown bush, with hints of gray . . . she liked me looking at her. She spread her legs to show me that she was open, ready, wanting.
?Fuck me,? she whispered.
I started to take the babydoll off.
?No, stay dressed for me and fuck me hard.?
Lois wrapped her hand around my cock. ?Take me as hard as you can. Fast.? She guided my cock to her pussy. ?Mate with me.?
When I was completely inside her, she slide her fingers to her clit and she began rubbing. ?Fuck me fast.?
I couldn?t hold back. I fucked her as hard and as fast as I could. I lifted my-self up to watch her tits jiggle with each thrust. To watch her face, as I thrust so deep that my cock hit her womb and she gasped. I could feel her fingers masturbating herself as I possessed her.
?Fuck me,? she groaned. ?Mate me . . . tear my cunt open . . . fill me with sperm.?
I came. Hard. My back arched and squirted inside her.
She screamed and came.
After a while, we were laying in tight embrace. Spent. It seemed that every orgasm with her was better than the ones before. I caressed her softly, lovingly.
?Baby,? she whispered, ?I like you dressed.?
?It?s exciting, but I feel silly, I feel ashamed.?
?I know,? she kissed me. ?But, you came hard, no??
?You know I did.?
?You?re my sweet pantyboy.?
?And you?re . . .? I hesitated, ?you?re my mistress.?
?What else??
?My lover.?
She smiled. ?Yes, baby.? She put her fingers on my cheek. ?When you?re dressed, I think you need a girl?s name.?
I wanted to yell, no, not that. But my heart raced with anticipation. Did I want to be a girl? No, but . . . but . . . ?No. Please, don't. I—?
?Yes. Now, let me hold you.? She pulled me tight to her, my head against her chest. Her perfume filled me like a drug. She ran her hand over my head, ?April,? she whispered, "my sweet April."
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