Why do they commonly and generally refer to the singular of panty in the plural, as in panties? That always struck me as odd. Yet, now that I am so accustomed to writing panties instead of panty, when I write panty, it just does not sound correct. I end up changing it back to panties.
This story is about the only fetish that I think that I have and that being, panties. I do not think that I have another fetish. Well, now that I think of it, I am definitely a tit man. I love tits, big tits, medium tits, and small tits. The size does not matter. What matters more are the shape and symmetry of the tit and the nipples, of course. Yeah, tits could be one of my fetishes. I will have to write a story just on tits, then, too.
Okay, now you have me thinking. I have never been a butt man until I met my girlfriend. She has the best ass that I have ever seen, bar none. So, I could be an ass man, too, I guess, for story number three. Yeah, don't tell my girlfriend but, because of her, I find myself staring at butts. It is a rare occurrence to see a shapely butt. Most butts are oversized. Shapely butts will have me staring after her while watching her walking away.
Then, there are legs. There is nothing like a shapely, shaved leg to make me want to stalk, er follow the possessor of such fine limbs to see what the rest of her looks like. Tanned legs are my favorite with nicely developed but not overly developed calves with toned thighs. Too many women have knobby knees. Knobby knees ruin the leg look. Yeah, I could write a story, just about legs.
Are women considered a fetish? I could write about women as a fetish, as well. Actually, I could write a book about women and the different types of women who have made me the pervert that I am today. Man, I love women. Not all women, of course, I hate bitchy women and women who do not have a sense of humor. You have to be able to laugh at yourself and trust me, I laugh at myself all day long.
"Ha, ha, what an idiot I am. I cannot believe I wrote that story."
Nonetheless, this story is about panties. I shall do follow up stories on my tit, er breast fetish, for the politically correct, ass, er buttocks fetish for all you ass men, leg fetish story for those who are into legs, not including feet, however. Sorry, about that, but feet do nothing for me. Then, maybe, one story just about women, tall women, short women, young women, old women, thin women, and not thin women.
It all started when I was around 13-years-old, er, I mean, 3-years-old when I would lie on the cold tile of the kitchen floor to catch a glimpse up my aunts and my mother's friends skirts and dresses. Unlike today where women either wear panties and/or pantyhose, there was much to see, back then. Before the dreaded invention of pantyhose, which I detest, everyone wore slips, nylon stockings, garters, girdles, and, of course, my favorite, my fetish, panty, er panties.
I remember it like it was yesterday. Boy, it is amazing what a guy can get away with when he is only three-years-old. Only, I wish they had invented the digital camera, back then. All they had was a Polaroid camera and it was black and white, and not many of us could afford one of those cameras. I swear, I was a born up skirt fan. Only, I am not a fan of those up skirt photos where they only show women's legs and a panty and/or pantyhose clad ass and pussy. I need to see the rest of the woman, especially her face, to appreciate the photo. Hey, I am not a forensic scientist or mortician; I do not get off on body parts. I need to see what the woman's looks like, too. The whole package of what she looks like before the up skirt makes it more exciting and makes me feel like I got away with something by stealthily stealing a serendipitous stare of her panties.
Anyway, when I was a kid, I got to see my sister, all of my cousins, aunts, female family friends, my sister's girlfriends, and even my mother's panties. I guess women figured they were safe from sexual stalkers in their own home or in the house of a friend or relative and could relax their posture not figuring that my man desires developed so early. Yet, there I was always looking, hoping, waiting, and expecting to see panties.
They were all too busy talking to notice what the Hell I was doing until it was too late and after I had already gotten a good glimpse of the goods and continued returning for third and fourth stares, the greedy little panty maven that I was. Besides, back then, everyone smoked, especially the women. I would wait until they all gathered in the living room lighting up their cigarettes and working on their second drink, then, stealthily, under the cover of the blue hazy cloud of Raleigh and Marlboro smoke, I'd make my entrance crawling on the floor on my back like a Ninja. Boy, there was no talk of second hand smoke back then.
"What the Hell is little Freddie doing?"
"He's trying to see your panties," said my mother in-between a drag of her cigarette. "Freddie, get up and get out of here before you get thoughts." My mother never said sexual thoughts, only thoughts.
Going way back, I was just a kid, maybe 15-years-old when my aunt and her daughter, my cousin, stayed with us during her trial separation from her husband. We had a small apartment and the women all bunked in together. My aunt, probably, in her late thirties would put her nylons on in the kitchen and I would watch her on the pretense of mindlessly talking to her. She would put those things on like she was making love to them, careful not to run them and to get the seam in the right place. When she sat with her leg raised to start the nylon on her foot, I was rewarded with a flash of panty between her legs that continued when she raised her leg to slowly stretch and pull the nylon fabric up her calf and on up to her thigh.
First, she would do one leg like that and, then, the other. Then, she stood, pulling up the nylon and lifting her skirt as she went to hook the nylons to her garter. My patience was always rewarded with great flashes of her panty and girdle. Everyone wore girdles back then, and my aunt was not even fat. Then, my mother would enter the kitchen and scoot me out.
"Freddie, go in the other room." Then, she'd turn to her sister, "Don't put your nylons on in front of him, he'll get thoughts." She always said that like I was incapable of getting thoughts until I saw my aunt's panties.
My favorite part of the day was going in the bedroom to wake up my cousin for school. She was older than me, just turned 18-years-old and she never slept with the covers over her. Every time I entered her room, her nightgown was up around her waist and I always had a wonderful shot of her panties. One time, she was not wearing panties and I saw it all. Man, did she have a bush. Well, I paid for that sight, but it was worth the screaming, kicking, punching, and pinching to get a look at my cousin's pussy. I told all of my friends. I was the first kid on my block to see a pussy. Boy, those were the days when seeing your first pussy meant something. If I had a Polaroid camera back then, I could have made a small fortune showing that photo to all who wanted to see it for a dime a peek. (Back then, ten cents bought two full sized candy bars or a Coke and a bag of chips. Today, the same costs a buck fifty.) Now, Britney, Paris, and Lindsey have their pussies plastered all over the Internet. Pussies are no big deal, anymore.
As I grew up, my fetish for panties developed like a hunter develops a drive to hunt bigger game. That is not to say that I was into seeing the panties of obese women or was searching the planet for granny panties, which I was not. Yet, if I did happen to catch a glimpse of full size women's panties, I would look, of course. I could not help but look, young, old, thin, or not so thin, if the opportunity presented itself, I looked. Looking at all and every panty that displays itself goes along with the territory of having a panty fetish. After all, I was looking to see as many panties as I could see. Not that I was keeping a log, journal or a notebook of all the panties spotted, but I tucked away the good views in the back of my head for reference later when I was home alone and horny. You guys know what I mean.
The subway and bus were two of the best places to hunt panties and still are. First, allow me to write that I am not into panty sniffing, used panties, wearing panties, or touching panties that are in a lingerie department. The only panties that I am interested in seeing are those that are on that gorgeous woman who is sitting across from me with her legs parted just enough for me to steal a peek. Perhaps, if I concentrate and focus my thoughts on her knees, she will psychically receive my thoughts and part her knees just a little bit more for me to see..."There! Perfect. Panties."
I always wondered if women flashed their panties on purpose because every day was a panty field day and, maybe, because I was looking, but I managed to see, at least, half dozen panties a day. So, with the above comment in mind, do women accidentally on purpose flash their panties to a guy that they are interested in meeting? I figure that some do when we know that we are looking and if we look normal and do not have drool hanging off our lip. Most, I figure, are unaware that they are flashing their panties, especially, back then, when all women wore very short skirts ala Twiggy. Some skirts were so short and some women's thighs were so thin, that even when they sat with their knees firmly pressed together, there was always a triangular opening just above her thigh that revealed a great look of her panties. Some women, probably, uptight women who believed all men are perverts (she has a point there) sat with their hands in the laps denying me a view of her panties.
"Pardon me, miss, but there is a spider over your head."
Whereupon she would remove her hands from her lap, cover her head with her hands while looking up and turning in her seat. Bingo! I saw the flash of her panties.
"Sorry, Miss, the spider is gone now. You are safe."
Another good place to see panties is anywhere women gathered to sit outside and eat their lunch. Me and a thousand other guys just like me, would spend our lunch hour walking around Boston, especially around the Boston Common, Public Gardens, the waterfront area by Atlantic Avenue, and Faneuil Hall. The tourists were always good to watch for panty flashing. Maybe, they figured, what the Hell, I'll never see that guy, again. I really do not care if he sees my panties. I am tired, it is hot, and I need to sit. Matter of fact, I wrote a story about the best places to voyeur women around Boston if anyone is interested in reading it.
Steps were always the best place to see panties. Even when women cemented their knees shut, you could see their panties from either side of them. Some maladjusted and paranoid women put a sweater around their lap denying you the view while others actually held their skirt in place with their hand or lowered their feet to the step below negating the angle of a view. Don't you hate it when you are trying to be nonchalant and the potential up skirt victims know what you are up to and beat you at your own game?
Then, I read all of these stories about women who do not wear panties. I met two women in my entire life, and I was in the lifestyle for a few years, who did not wear panties. Moreover, I only saw one woman who did not wear panties and that was in the Public Garden about 30 years ago. The only reason why I noticed was because she was sitting on the grass with her legs raised and had this red bush of fur. Of course, I meandered over there to talk to her. She was a student but nothing came of it; I was only going over to her for a closer look. Now, the weird thing is that I would have been more turned on had she been wearing panties. Definitely, I have a panty fetish.
I love those wrap around skirts, especially when the woman has a big butt and the skirt does not wrap completely around. Just a little bit of wind blew that skirt wide open enough to see all of the back of her panty and upper thigh. Those skirts are the next best thing to micro mini skirts, which I absolutely love. There is no way for a woman to sit when wearing a micro mini without flashing some panty.
My favorite panties, for some unknown reason, are white cotton bikini panties. Whenever I see my girlfriend in her bra and panties, I have an instant erection. She has the body to wear it. Seeing her in a bra and panty is like seeing a Victoria Secrets model in a tiny bikini.
Having a panty fetish, of course, I love those panty videos from Japan where the guy races up to the woman and lifts up her skirt and/or pulls down her panty. They even have a few where he lifts up their kimonos. Hot stuff those videos and now I wonder no more what Japanese women wear beneath their kimonos, bikini panties, although a couple wore granny panties. They could never do that in America. The poor guy would be charged with attempted rape and sued civilly when all he wanted to see were panties. Matter of fact, I wrote a story on this subject called the Panty Bandit, the American version of the Japanese panty pull down, in case anyone is interested in reading it. You know, come to think of it, I wrote a story on practically everything.
Then, they have those drunken girl videos where the women are sitting with their legs spread and their panties on display. Those are hot videos. Now, that I think of it, the Japanese women are always showing their panties. Is it because they are behind us in fashion trends? The way the Japanese women today wear mini skirts is how our women wore mini skirts back in the '70's.
Growing up in Boston, we always had Filene's Basement. Filene's for decades never had dressing rooms. The women would strip on the main floor and try on clothes. It was amazing. I saw more women in their panties and bras, hot women, good looking secretary types, who would shoot you down at a bar or at a club and there they are walking around in their underwear. I loved that store.
"Sale on dresses the far side of the store," crackled the loudspeaker. Then, literally dozens of half naked women, wearing only their bra and panty, would dart across the main floor to reach the racks of dresses before anyone else.
During the '60's and the '70's was the mini skirt craze. Always, there was some woman bending over in front of me while wearing a mini skirt. Always, she gave me an unbelievable shot of her panties. Seeing her panties made me terribly horny. I was always walking around with an erection.
The Esplanade along the Charles River in Boston was a good place to see panties. Always, there was, believe it or not, some woman sliding down the slide wearing a skirt and by the time she got to the bottom, her skirt was up around her crotch. They also had a tire swing there, too. More than a few times, I witnessed mothers with their children playing with the tire swings and falling through with the hem of their skirt up to their chest and their panties on full display until they realized the only way to get out was to sit on the ground instead of trying to lift the tire up past their bust, shoulders, and over their head.
Then, taking the harbor cruises in Boston Harbor was always a good place to see panties. It could be the most serene night but, once that boat hit the shipping channel, the wind picked up more than just speed but cocktail dresses and blowing them up to the back of the women's heads. Don't you just love shear chiffon blowing up with the breeze?
So, what is it about panties that make it so erotic and such a fetish? I do not know any man who is offended when seeing a woman's panties. Do you?
"Oh, God, please, close your legs. I can see your panties."
"Listen, you young whipper snapper, you shouldn't be looking at your grandmother's panties." My grandmother suddenly gives me the dirty look that my mother gave me so many years ago.
"I warned your mother that you were going to get thoughts when you were lying on your back trying to steal a peek at panties way back then. Now, look at you. You have an erection over seeing granny's granny panties."
"What is wrong with you?" She gives me a swift kick in the balls. "What do you have a panty fetish?"
Oh, yeah! I do.