I Fell In Love With Panties

I fell in love with panties the first time I saw them. I must have been about three or four and I used to share a room with my older sister. They were fun, and exciting and pretty! They came in colors like pink and yellow and even the white ones had some pretty pink on them. They all had bows and lace and ruffles. They were so much better than what I had. They were softer too. And other things came with them, like petticoats. Petticoats! Yards and yards of fun and excitement! They had one more thing, the crown jewel, the pièce de résistance, the "to die for," ruffled sissy panties. Everything was soft and pretty and exciting and fun and I wanted it all sooooo bad. But, ...

Bigger girls, and grown up girls, even got to have, and wear, extra pretty panties. In some ways they were similar, they still had tiny bows and ruffles on the leg openings. Most had some kind of a lace applique or cut out and the waistbands were always delicately detailed. What delicate and delightful luxury! Really grown up girls, like in high school and stuff, got to wear grown up colors like red and black! And, they were smooth soft nylon! They just took your breath away. (Boys and men had to wear ugly white cotton things for their entire lives – uck!) Oh, and big girls got more than just panties. They had stockings and garter belts with more lace and bows. They had bold defiant bras and pretty slips that I was convinced were called that because when you put them on over your panties you would slip and slide in them. There was more; high heels, bold red and pretty pink lipsticks,
( kiss), shinny jewelry, earrings, and all sorts of lace, pretty things and wonderful exciting frou-frou. Women and girls loved getting dressed up. I hated it. If they would have let me dress like them, I’m sure I’d felt different. I’d stand there in a stupid pair of pants, flat shoes, a frumpy shirt and a stupid tie and look at how pretty they girls were, and how much more fun they were having, and just feel sad and miserable. The girls all wanted their picture taken, I never wanted mine taken. (Not dressed and looking like that, anyway.) The girls had fun! I couldn’t wait to get undressed and back into a tee shirt and pair of jeans. Dressing up as a boy was simply an oxymoron.

To this day I want strangle women when I hear them constantly complain, "my mother used to make me wear petticoats, and lace sissy panties and all kinds of fancy bouffant dresses." "Oh yes" the next woman chimes in, "and I had to model everything in front of all the other ladies while they oohed and aaded." They particularly seemed to resent having to show off how pretty their panties were as if being the ladies little dress up doll and wearing all the hyper feminine frou-frou no grown woman would go to the extremes to do, was such a miserable thing. If only, I would have loved to have been in their place. I still would.

I truly LOVE my panties!  heart 

CherrySissy CherrySissy
46-50, T
Jul 27, 2010