My First Panties

CHAPTER 1

I was in a city I had never visited before. The reason was a funeral, but I couldn't really feel sad, because I had never known the man. He was a sort of cousin to my father through his stepmother, so not actually a blood relative. He had come to Mum and Dad's wedding, but I think that was the last time they'd seen him. His name was Henry.

Anyway, for whatever reason, Dad had been named as the main beneficiary of his will. Dad had died a few years back, so the lawyer had come to me. There were no other relatives, and the estate was quite small. The funeral, lawyer's fees, bequests to friends, paying off debts such as fuel bills, and clearing the rented flat, altogether left a few thousand. Not to be sneezed at, but it wouldn't change my life. However, the experience did.

I stayed a while to be the family representative for the funeral arrangements and clearing his home, and the funeral itself, of course.

I stayed in Travelodge near his home, next to a small shopping centre. Having checked in, I went there to get myself lunch. And, as always, found myself attracted to the shops selling women's clothes. I walked into Matalan, and looked around as if searching for my wife, but actually admiring the clothes. I managed to walk twice through the lingerie before leaving, and going off to see the lawyer.

At the car I stopped.

I had never been here before, and probably never would again. Nobody knew me.

I went back into Matalan and looked at some lace panties. I still hesitated until I saw something. Some really nice ones were in sets of three on a little hanger. One set in my wife's size was reduced because there were only two - someone had presumably stolen one. It was ridiculously cheap. I took them and handed over the exact amount in coins. They prefer card purchases, but I didn't want anything on my bank statement.

The shop kept the hanger so I stuffed them into a pocket and went back to my room.

They were in white cotton and elastane with a plain panel over the crotch, but two lace ones over both thighs.

And they were too big. They fell down, straight away. That was my first realisation that women's clothes sizing can vary in different stores. Some are more generous than others.

Too bad. I had been so daring, and now was disappointed.

I was looking at my two failed purchases when I noticed that the other pair seemed smaller. In fact, the label said they were two sizes smaller. Too small.

But I put them on.

It was a miracle. First of all, they fitted and secondly, they were totally comfortable! I had imagined women put up with uncomfortable clothes for the sake of appearance, but these were something I could wear every day.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I was entranced. They were so beautiful.

I wore them for my meeting with the lawyer. Maybe I was a bit too cheerful, but I didn't know Henry at all, and I was thrilled to know what I had on underneath.

I wore them at the funeral director's. The lady was quite cheerful as well, saying he had had a good life and many friends. My smile was for something else.

I wore them dealing with the landlord in sorting out Henry's possessions, with some distributed to friends, some to charity and the rest to be taken away.

I wore them at the funeral, and the reception afterwards. He had a good number of friends who shook my hand and offered condolences. I didn't know a single one of them.

I wore them in the evening in my room.

No, I didn't wash them, because I wasn't sure they would dry in time overnight. But I showered and didn't soil them, so they were OK as it was only for a few hours a day for a few days.

Once I had signed out, I stuffed both pairs of panties, wrapped in paper, in the first litter bin.

CHAPTER 2

A while later, I got a text message from the landlord. They had overlooked a shed where Henry had stored a few things, and he wanted me to visit to deal with them. I booked myself into the Travelodge.

The first thing I did when I had booked in was to walk over to Matalan and buy the panties (of the right size) and another of a different style, French knickers.

It was so good to see the lovely lace in the mirror, and to know I was wearing it. The French knickers were not as comfortable but looked gorgeous. They came in two colours, white and black.

The shed turned out to contain a classic motorbike. Obviously not used for years, and needing refurbishment. However, by contacting a couple of Henry's friends I discovered he had been a keen biker when younger. One of his friends with a similar interest offered to find a buyer, which I happily agreed, telling him to keep some of the proceeds for himself, and some for the landlord. So much easier to give up a bit of money to save trouble.

I could have left then, but stayed another night, buying myself another pair.

On the way home I couldn't bear to part with my treasures.

The next time away from home was on a company training course. I stopped part of the way there in a town I didn't know, and bought myself three different sorts of panties. At a motorway service station, I changed into one in the toilet, and wore all of them at different times during the course, admiring myself in the hotel room, and smiling during the course knowing and to some extent feeling I had them on.

I was addicted. Over the next couple of years, I bought others (and looked at many more), regretfully discarding each when they should have been washed.

I kept them secret, but sometimes took a pair to work and wore them. I even started to risk coming home in them, having dinner, and watching TV with my wife before going upstairs to the toilet to change and hide them.

That's when the kitchen accident happened. Nearly a whole bottle of red wine.

"Quick, get your trousers off!" she ordered.

"Don't just stand there, I'll rinse them right away."

"I'll go to the bathroom," I said feebly.

"Don't be daft! You'd traipse it all over the house. Good job it's here on vinyl instead of carpet."

I had no option but to undo my belt. I stepped back. Could I do it on the other side of the island unit? Stupid. There was no escape.

"What the fuck?!"

I just stood there, my face red, in white lace panties with a bit of a pink stain.

CHAPTER 3

There was nothing for it. Once we'd cleared up, I had to show her my stash. She sniffed them.

"Well, once your trousers are done, we'll wash these. I think you'd better put on your pyjamas. I don't think I've got a nightie your size. I'll rescue the dinner and you can tell me all about exploring your feminine side."

We ate dinner in silence. Every so often, one of us would prepare to say something and decide not to.

Finally, with coffee instead of wine, we sat in front of the TV, but didn't switch it on. She had obviously planned the interrogation.

"First of all, are you gay?"

"No."

"Sure? If you are, it'll be better to tell me now, in the long term."

"Sure."

"Transgender? You want to have hormones and operations?"

"No, definitely not," I said, shuddering with the thought.

"Do you want to go out on the street in a dress and makeup?"

"No way!"

"So why are you wearing women's knickers?"

I put my head in my hands.

"I don't know. They're just so nice and I feel so good when I wear them."

"How long have you been doing this?"

I told her about the funeral.

"Oh, that's why you've been so cheerful since then. I thought it wasn't a lot of money, so perhaps you realised you were lucky to be alive and to have me."

"No, I mean yes. They make me cheerful," I said, and instantly realised I should have said I was lucky to have her, but before I could blurt it out, she continued.

"So all it is, you want to wear pretty knickers?"

"I think so."

"Well, that's not the worst. A bit silly, but manageable, I suppose. Now put on the TV or we'll miss it."

Afterwards she got my undies out of the washing machine, and put them in the tumble dryer for a delicates program.

When they were done, she got me to choose a pair for the next day, which was Saturday.

"I was thinking your underpants were a bit worn, and was going to buy you some more. Perhaps I don't have to," she remarked.

"Anyway, I think I deserve some pretty new underwear and we can discuss your preferences. Maybe even buy you something."

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"I thought you'd be angry."

She looked at me for a bit.

"Don't you know? It's because I love you. I was very upset, and I don't understand it, but I want us to be a couple, and to be happy."

I hugged and kissed her. In bed we lay quiet together, but eventually made love.

CHAPTER 4

The next Saturday was a wonderful day. Instead of me sneaking around alone for surreptitious looks, we went together and pored over racks and racks of beautiful lingerie. She guided me over size, and we bought several different panties for me. I had never thought of anything else, but she insisted on buying me a set of matching camisole and panties, which looked and felt gorgeous. She treated herself (with my encouragement) to some more expensive lingerie.

When we got home, we made love almost immediately. I dropped my trousers, pulled my panties aside, lifter her dress to pull hers to one side and plunged in. Short, but very sweet.

From that day on, I've never worn anything but lovely women's undies in lace, silk, satin, or cute cotton ones with little hearts or flowers. At home or at work, every day. Sometimes with a camisole or equivalent as an undershirt. (I still have two pairs of men's underpants, in case I have to go into hospital.)

We now have a regular monthly date to browse lingerie shops - not always buying, just looking, and feeling some of the new things. And buying often enough. With lovemaking at the end.

For Christmas she got me several different pairs of knickers with multiple layers of ruffles or lace. The sort of thing that might have been worn by French maids or can-can dancers. I can't tell you how thrilled I was! For my birthday I got some bloomers!

For a year it was just practical and pretty for me, pretty and/or sexy for her. Then we got a bit adventurous. She bought me a thong, with a lovely (quite large) lacey panel at the front, and the back - well, you know, not a lot. And persuaded me to wear it at work! It was hard to keep soft, if you get my drift.

I persuaded her to get some crotchless panties for herself. Not the wide-open ones, just a slit in which her lips peeked through the lovely black lace. She wore them to work with a regular skirt. I could hardly wait till the end of the day! When I got home, she just lifted her skirt to show me her shiny wet pinkness, and I could hardly get my trousers off quickly enough to plunge in! She's done it again - not often, but when she wants to feel naughty. She's got a couple more, and I now have several different thongs.

And I have some pretty nighties, and a beautiful negligee which I often wear for a while at the weekend, not just at night.

I love all my panties. It is such a delight choosing amongst them every day. I don't think I could get through the working week without them.

And I love my wife.