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Was trying on my mom's panties when I was a teen when my dad made a surprise visit home from work to drop off some breakfast for me. Fortunately, I was between pairs, so he only caught me standing naked in their room; he seemed baffled and just said, "Breakfast is in the kitchen" and left. Nothing was ever said about it again by either one of us.
All have to take extra care.
prevention is better than cure.
I was nine when I started to secretly wear my sister's panties. My sister Sue was a year younger, but nearly my size in everything! Initially I used the laundry hamper as my source of her underwear, but freshly laundered panties from her lingerie drawer were better still and offered the opportunity for some choise in both color or fabric, as opposed to the "panties du jour" that the hamper allowed. I would sneak on a pair of her panties whenever I found the opportunity, wear them all day and deposit them in the hamper without anyone's knowledge, or so I thought.
Her underwear were mostly cotton but there were a few examples of silky nylon panties and two especially girly pairs. These were in a word – wonderful. One day, my mother caught me wearing them! More to the point I think she observed the irregular "panty count" in the laundry. Some days Sue would have two dirties other days none. My pattern in whitey tighties was strangely similar. Mom questioned me about wearing Sue's panties shaking her head and adding a stern rebuke. She threatened to tell my father. I was of course mortified and frightened sufficiently that I did not raid Susan's panty drawer again for months. During that time Mom's threat wore thin, but the memory of those panties remained. I had learned my lesson from months earlier, I attempted to be stealthier! But I guess Mom knew, because one day I found my underwear drawer stacked with newly purchased Vanity Fair nylon panties in my size and in a variety of colors. I ran to Mom that same day and gave her a big kiss without providing a single word of explanation. Not a word was exchanged by either one of us but she smiled knowingly.
That moment signaled for me an open door with my Mom. I was able to talk to her about my expanding desires to dress. Not just in panties but pretty from head to toe. Mom was sympathetic to a limit, and continued to add to my secret wardrobe. My father was a First Class Gunner's Mate in the Navy and at sea for much of my life. He was not a partner to, or ever knew of, this secret. It was a mutual conspiracy that included both Mom and to a lesser extent my sister. While Mom was incredibly supportive, she prohibited me from wearing either her things or Sue's. The rule was if you want something "special to wear" ask, I'll get you your own. Soon, my mother even went so far as to be encouraging. Enough so that she also introduced me to shopping for my special clothes with her -Mom, Sue and Bobbi. I was ten and loved it so. By the age of thirteen it all stopped. Dad got shore duty. We moved to Hawaii. My special wardroble was both outgrown and discarded.
My Mom helped me with my early CDing in such a loving way that in retrospec I think her approach speaks volumes about her character, not mine.
Amazing stories! When I was about 4 my sister and 4 daughters of my parents friends dressed me up in a pinafore with chiffon and puffy sleeves. The adults thought it was funny.
When I was about the same age my dad caught me in my sisters slip. Not a big deal.
When I was a teenager, I abused my sisters clothes and hid them under the bed. They disappeared once and nothing was said. That happened several times. Once my sister searched everywhere for her babydoll. I knew where it was!
Scariest almost caught, I was 13, at home sick on the couch wearing a flowered dress as I recall. The living room had a large floor to ceiling window and door looking into woods. 3 or 4 of my friends suddenly appeared on the patio not 10 feet away. I was trapped. My life was over. I laid there trying to sink into the couch, heart pounding and stomach sick. They paused for a moment, then continued down the wooded path in front of the window without looking in!
In 1973, they would have been unmerciless had I been caught. Still, it didn't stop me in the future. Dumb kid.
I was caught by my mother a number of times ,she shrugged it off and thought I would grow out of it ...later in life I would visit her dressed and she was fine with it
I had hid some feminjne hygine products. For my play and i knew what they were. My dad came in once while i had one out, and asked what i was hiding. I showed him embarrassed, and was asked qjestions with the standard kid answer, "i dont know". I then purged as we call it and repressed the urges until i was in my twenties early. It seems telljng a SO of potential your "habit" is embarrassing. So i didnt until i metmy cjrrent wife, and since then with her dksapproval of crossjng, repressed as good as i could until recently.
I can't count how many times my Mom caught me. The first time she told me boys shouldn't wear womens' clothing and NOT to wear hers. Sometime later she caught me again and told me to be careful and not to ever let either of my brothers catch me. She took me out to our old trailer to check some things and gave me a few things that had belonged to my sister from years ago. They fit surprisingly well and sometimes during the summer when I had to stay in the trailer and make sure no one stole any of the trees and bushes that had come in she said I could wear my special clothes. I just had to make sure I didn't fall asleep in them so Dad wouldn't catch me when he came to work early.
Twenty some years later my second ex ( whom I had told before we were married) got mad after I left her and told all our friends and her family about my dressing. The one person I was really apprehensive about was her Mom, I really liked her and respected her. We could talk about anything. She was a stout woman and was decidedly top heavy. My current wife and I went up for my daughters High School graduation and my MIL asked me to run to the store with her to pick up some things. She told me how my ex had been bad mouthing me and asked if I actually wore womens clothing. I admitted i did and the first thing she asked was why in the heck would I want to wear something as uncomfortable as a bra ? I told her I had no idea but had been dressing since 5 or 6 years old. she said OK and we have never discussed it again. She is still a good friend and we chat on FB when we can.
I was four years old sleeping in my sisters room while she was away and got caught by my mother putting on her shoes and stockings. Was never brought up again I think... :straightface:
To this day the memory is as vivid as yesterday.
My girl friend said "Wearing a bra to bed is the worst, well if you have to wear it" It was a reference to how I enjoyed it being one who didn't have "to wear it" . Still awkward.Quote:
Originally Posted by Tammy Lynn Tx
I posted this in December, 2007.
My mother is now 79 years old and lives in a house my wife and I bought for her that is two doors down from us.
She is still a wonderful lady, getting older and just got her 25 year pin from AA. When I was growing up, I never knew she drank. I just thought that everyone occasionally found their mother passed out at the kitchen table with a half empty bottle of scotch. I'm much better now, thank you.
I was around 9 years old.
My 15 year old cousin had moved in with us. It was a sad story, her mother had died, her father remarried, the typical wicked step mother, car wreck, her father died and the step mother went into a nursing home. My grandmother said to send her to our house, we got so many kids another one won't make much of a difference. So she moved in with us.
Somehow in my 9 year old mind, I thought she (the cousin) was getting favorable treatment from my parents. I wanted to get the same kind of treatment.
For some reason that 9 year old mind also concluded that if I wore her clothes, my parents and grandparents would shower me with affection also.
I put on a pair of her yellow big panties (this was about 1958) and a pair of her side zip jeans and a sleevless white camp shirt. Nobody even noticed. (In retrospect I don't see how they could not have known, but they didn't say anything to me at the time.) I went upstairs and took the clothes off. Those panties did something to me.
One time when my parents went on a trip and the cousin was in charge of us. She was downstairs reading a book. I got on a pair of her panties and crawled into her bed. (In our house it was scandalous to sleep in anything but pajamas or a nightgown.)
The cousin came upstairs and turned on the light in her bedroom and saw me in her bed. I feigned being asleep. She came over and ever so gently lifted up the covers and saw me in her panties. The covers came back down, she turned out the light and went and got into my bed.
After a while, I went into my bedroom in just her panties. She was in my bed reading a book. I told her I was scared and wanted someone to hold me. She looked at me and told me to go back to bed and hold myself.
The episode was never mentioned again.
She eventually went away to college.
Fast forward about 5 or 6 years. I had developed a bedwetting problem. Wet beds and wet sheets were a real bummer.
My father insisted I was just to d*** lazy to get out of the bed to go to the bathroom. Lots of tears, spankings and wet pajamas. My mother eventually bought me several pairs of 'stay dry' incontinent pants that I was to wear under my pajamas. I was both embarassed and excited about them at the same time.
My father had remodeled our basement and turned it into a bedroom. I was down there by myself, had a tv and radio and my school desk where I did my homework.
I had progressed to buying my own panties by this time.---this was before walmart and kmart. Went to Kresgee's or Woolworths to get them.
One night I was in bed in a just a pair of panties.
My mother came downstairs to kiss me goodnight. My pajamas were lying on my desk, along with some laundry she had told me to put away earlier in the day.
She told me to get out of bed and put away the laundry like she had told me to do. I told her no, could I do it in the morning, I was tired.
Mother insisted I do as she told me to do. Then she saw my pajamas and wanted to know why I didn't have them on and did I have on my 'protection' (That was our code word for the incontinent pants and diapers I wore to bed....we would NEVER call them by their real names, only by protection.)
Mother than told me to get out of bed right now. I refused. She reached down to pull my covers off of me and I blurted out, "Mom, I'm naked!"
She went over to my desk and picked up my pajama bottoms, gave them to me and told me put them on and put away the laundry.
I put the bottoms on over my panties while still under the covers and got out of bed and started to put away my laundry. She then insisted I wear protection to bed and I was always to wear protection and pajamas to bed. Nice people didn't sleep without pajamas.
She then swatted my butt. She must have been able to tell I had something on under my pajamas because she pulled out the waistband and asked me what I was wearing.
I started crying. I told her it wasn't fair, I hated wearing protection, I hated having to wear big white briefs (JC Penny double seats--wish I had some now..she bought them for me) that looked like diapers, I hated wearing diapers to bed and I liked how these underpants felt. I told her I had bought them thinking they were boy's bikini underpants.
She hugged me and said she understood how I felt. But until I outgrew the bedwetting it was so much easier on her to have me wear protection. It was too much trouble to have to laundry everyday--we didn't have a dryer- and to wipe my face and put on my protection and go to bed.
And she stood there. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I was too embarassed to pull of my pajama pants and have my mother see me in panties. I had only occasionally put on my protection in front of her, never in front of my father.
Finally I said the heck with it, sat on the bed and took of my pajama bottoms. I then walked over to my desk in my panties and turned my back, took off the panties and pulled on my protection.
This was very exciting to me and I didn't know why.
I started to get back into bed and my mother asked if I was forgetting something. I started to put on the pajama bottoms. No, my mother said, finish putting away the laundry.
I put away the laundry in my chest of drawers just wearing my protection. I was so embarassed and excited at the same time and didn't know why.
When I was done, my mother came over and kissed me and said, 'don't forget your pajamas." and went out the door and turned out the light.
Oh man, I knew I was in trouble. Not only was I a bedwetter, but my Mom had found out I wear panties. And she was probably going to tell my dad. I worried about that until I fell asleep. I think I cried myself to sleep that night. I wished I had on panties instead of protection.
The next day when I got home from school, I was in my basement room lying on my bed watching TV. My mom came downstairs with a bag from Sears.
She sat on my bed and said she loved me and was so proud of me for being a nice young man. She told me she was sorry that I struggled so much. She knew I was a good kid. Things will get better she said. Then, as she leaned over and hugged me, she said, "I understand boys need their privacy," and handed me the bag. "These are for you", she said.
Somehow I knew I had the upper hand. I just laid there and didn't return her hug or take the bag. She got up, left the bag on my bed, said supper will be ready when your father gets home and went upstairs. At the top of the stairs, she turned and said to me, "I am not going to mention this to your father."
After a while, I looked in the bag. There was a package of panties from Sear's. Three pair, blue, yellow and white.
I had an early morning paper route and would take clothes from clothes lines. My mom would always find my stash of clothes and make me return them to the people I took them from.
I had one instance of being caught, though I should probably use caught loosely. It was more of a feeling than any actual revelation on the discoverer's part. In high school I would sometimes secretly wear silk panties under my jeans - a pair borrowed from the bottom of my mom's underwear drawer. One day after school I forgot to put them back in time before everyone else arrived home, so I ended up wearing them to sleep and stashing them between the bed and wall the next morning before I left for school.
Later that day I came home to find my mom had gotten off early.
In my room I found a neatly-made bed.
On my bed I found a neatly-spread out pair of panties.
:doh:
I told her they must have fallen between my bed and the wall, as I sometimes would bring the laundry into my room to fold. She didn't buy it, but eventually dropped the entire ordeal when Dad took my side and made light of the situation. Her argument was that she had not worn that particular pair in years, so she knew my story was bogus. I'm guessing that having to face the alternative, whatever that might have been in her mind at the time, was something she didn't really want to have to face.
(which was entirely fine by me... ;) )
i got caught wearing my sisters one piece pink slip and panty and her party dress i was 8 mom busted my ass for that one.but i feel in love with that slip
I was 12 my mom came home early and caught me all dressed up standing in front ot a mirror, i was so embarrassed. Being that i was in a very high state of excitement.
I never got "caught" per se but sometimes my grandmother would see me playing dolls with my sisters and force me to go play with the boys down the street. That made me feel like I was doing something wrong. I hated the-boys-down-the-street since they were all older than me and pushed me around. One of the things that was embarrassing to me was that my mother was constantly on about how I needed "male influence" and "male role models" in my life since I lived in a house full of females and my father was rarely around when I was little. He left for good when I was nine. I took it as criticism that she felt I was a failure as a boy...a big disappointment. OMG, without proper male role models I might even turn out gay!! Well, I didn't turn out gay exactly but in many ways her fears were confirmed.
My dad found my stash and sat me down to talk. I lied my ass off!
I never really got caught in the act. But my mom found my hose in between my mattresses when I had a sleep over at my cousins. I was about 10 or 11. When I got home they were on my bed folded neatly. And nothing was ever said.
Another time was just after I got married I purchased a pair of hose and tried them on when I got home. When my wife got home she found them on our bed. She asked who's they were and I told her that I bought them to make something and that I actually tried them on to see what it felt like. She didn't say anything after that. I was so embarrassed at that moment in time.
Angela