DAVID'S FIRST ENCOUNTER -- how it all got started


             When I was a young boy back in the 1950’s living outside of Chicago, my closest playmates were three girls who lived on our street.  MJ and Mary attended Catholic schools while Sandy attended public elementary school with me.  At that time, they all wore dresses or skirts to school, as pants were forbidden.  And, of course, they always wore slips and, Sandy would often wear a lacy petticoat.  I loved teasing their skirts and seeing their lacy hems. 

             My aunt lived a few blocks away and worked as a manager at a major department store.  One day she caught me teasing the girls and flipping their skirts.  She told me that this was naughty and that she would teach me a lesson.  As she always had Wednesday off as “comp time” for her weekend hours, she told me to stop by her house (as I often did) after school the next Wednesday.  I thought nothing of it at the time.  Wednesday arrived and I dutifully stopped by my aunt’s house on the way home. She was waiting for me, along with the customary Coke and cookies.  But she then told me to go into her bedroom and wait for her there.  I walked into her room and there on the bed lay a lovely lingerie ensemble consisting of matching pink panties, garter belt, training bra and a full slip. All were decorated in pretty white lace and pink satin ribbons. Soon my aunt was standing beside me and said that the pretty things were for me!  I did not know what to say! 

            She instructed me to step into her walk-in closet and put on the panties; she would then help me don the rest of the lingerie.  I dutifully obeyed and came out a few moments later wearing the sweetest lacy panties a girl could want.  They felt divine with the silky, cool nylon.  She then helped me put on the bra and adjust the lace-covered straps.  But, then came the best part as she held the slip up for me – it was gorgeous.  It felt heavenly as I slid it over my head and down my body.  The feeling of the silky skirt against my thighs and the frilly lace at my knees was indescribable.  My aunt said I needed to put on the garter belt and that I should raise my slip.  She then put it around my waist so that the pretty garters fell down my thighs.  She then produced a pair of off-white stockings and helped me to slide these up my legs and fasten the garters.  The garters had pink ribbons on the end that covered the clasp.   We then slowly lowered my pretty slip and she directed me to the bathroom.   

            In the bathroom, she had me sit at her dressing table where she proceeded to work on my hair and put on some make-up.  All the while I sat there looking at the lovely slip I was wearing in the mirror.  It all felt incredible!  She then produced a pink and white dress with a lacy full petticoat hanging in the front.  She told me to stand while she placed the petticoat on the floor.  I stepped into the waist elastic and she raised the petti over my slip and to my waist.  She then took the pretty dress, unzipped it and helped me pull it over my head and over my petticoat.  She zipped the back and tied the wide pink sash with a big bow.  She told me top twirl in front of the mirror and when I did, the dress and petticoat flared out, revealing my pretty slip.   

            To complete the outfit, she handed me some white patent leather shoes with little bows on the front.  Then, she proceeded to flip my skirt, repeatedly.  She said she wanted me to know how my girlfriends felt when I flipped their skirts.  This was my “punishment” and she said for the next two months I was to come to her house every Wednesday after school for additional “lessons.”  The problem was that I really enjoyed dressing in pretty girls’ things, especially lingerie.  So, our Wednesday “lessons” went on for almost 3 years, by which time I had quite a collection of dresses and the prettiest slips, panties, bras and garter belts!

             To this day, I enjoyed pretty lingerie and have a collection of more than 75 vintage, lacy slips.  Hardly a day goes by that I don’t wear one, either to bed or under my street clothes. 

            So, that’s how it started……..


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