What I remember anyway

[Anne K Sippit]

It was a grass hula skirt that first caught my attention as a pre- teen of 7-8 years old. Dried out, scratchy and it created a strange feeling when I thought of putting it on while alone that afternoon in the basement of a family friend's house.

Maybe it was that same summer, my aunts and cousins and the Ohlmsteds all went camping at the lake for a week. The Ohlmsteds had three daugters.... We get to the lake and guess who didn't think to bring along a swimming suit. A swimming suit appears from the back of the Ohlmseds camper and I go swimming. It didnt take long before there was a whole lot of whispering and tittering going on and I learn that I am wearing the bottom half of an Ohlmsted girl's bikini. It was a bit ruffled and sparkly when I later thought about it. I was mortified and teased to no end by my cousin. After that I kept getting that strange feeling I had felt with the grass hula skirt.

Somewhat older (12-13), I was influenced by my moms lingerie drying in the bathroom - we had a one bathroom household and her things would dry on the towel rack. As a kid I loved taking baths and since her stockings were already wet, why not try them on while in the bath tub. They felt soooooo good. I could put them on - then hang them up just like I found them after I got done. Then one day I scrunched them up as if I was going to pull them up my legs starting at my toe and in my excited state placed the nylon stocking over another body part having my first puberty experience while in a warm bath. Confused, dazed and with my mother's stocking with something I never new existed within, I hid the stockings under the towels in the linen closet. They were my secret friends for the next several weeks. Then one day they were gone. I gathered a few more pairs and stashed them in my clothes drawer in my bedroom and then one day they were gone too. Nothing was ever said.

Skp forward several years. Grade school, highschool, college, first job, leave first job, end up at house sitting for an elderly couple who go south for the winter leaving me to tend their house for the winter in a well known ski town. The lady is a pack rat and has rooms full of clothes. Never threw anything out. Dead of winter, dark, I know that no one is even thinking of venturing out on the cold night and I decide to play dress-up. I have no idea why I did it (read Pot perhaps). I remember watching myself in the mirror pulling on a long forest green tight fitting elegant evening dress with a pair of sandals. No wig, but I did fashion a turban using a scarf and of course there was all kinds of makeup and jewelry left in the house. I still have no idea why I did it, but it felt wonderful. The remaining winter was spent in bliss with an entire store room filled with every style you could imagine.

Skip forward several more years... I re-enter the university and go to graduate school when my dressing-up goes mainstream. As with most students I used the laundromat. My sorce of clothes at that time was the lost and found basket at the laundromat and I accumulated many nice things. A pair of panties pilfered here and there rounded out the collection. It wasn't long before I had drawers full of stuff and a closet teaming with outfits. My first erotic purchase was at Penny's when I used the excuse of Valentines day to buy a garter belt/panty/stocking combo mumbling something about a gift for a (fantasy) girlfriend. I remeber being terribly excited wearing them for the first time under my sweats on a Sunday morning while doing of all things - laundry. I was scared stiff that the garters would show through sweatpants - excited really.

Not long after that I met my wife to be. That is another long story on how she came to know me and accept me now for 17 years. To be continued

edit: kimberlys less details

[Lynn Edwards]

Anne;

loved the the bikini bottom story. I propably wouldn't have thought so back then but i wish i could have gone thru such a thing in my youth. to this day i enjoy pushing the envelop on what is proper male attire, love going to the gym in sweatpants covering my panties, hose and little ankle socks.

As for my first experiences, I always remember enjoying the sight and feel of my moms silky clothing. I would often open her drawers and just put my hands into her things.

First time I wore something I was "forced" to wear it. My mom punished me for something when I was about 4 or 5. I cannot remember what I did but I do remember being forced to wear one of her bra's for several hours. Of course, I was in heaven. She made me sit on the couch and wait for my dad to come home. My dad just looked at me, shook his head and left the room...

Soon after I remember visiting my sister's walk-in closet late at night and trying on all my sister's dresses.... She woke up and opened the door and I froze, without a lite i'm not sure she saw me, but nothing was ever said...

I was lucky to have a neighbor boy that often played dress up with his twin sister. I never played dress up with him but I would sit in the window and watch as he would ride his bike up and down his drive in 'his' wonderful dresses. I think he helped normalized those strange feelings I had back then.

great story... waiting on part two.

Lynn

... edit remove duplicate original message - kimberlys

[Absaroka]

I thought it was interesting that you didn't react to the swimsuit until after you found out it was a girls........the mind is a powerful thing.

I used to like to wear my mom's laundry in the tub. Slips were my favorite, the way they clung when they were wet. The laundry was in the bathroom and when I was done I'd put a towel in the tub and then put it in the laundry to disguise what I'd done.

I also loved the story of house sitting with all those clothes during a long dark winter. It touched a never very deep inside me about something like that. I used to house sit for a family with a schitzophrenic adult son and when he was asleep I enjoyed rummaging through their attic. I didn't wear anything since he was always there. I did use some of his mom's lingerie for other purposes and then just put it back. I figured their crazy son would get blamed for the mess, conveniently forgetting what psychotropic drugs do to your sex drive. Not a nice thing of me to do. But I love the drama of your house sitting story. It's one of those things that makes me wonder how many other things are going on with us besides clothes, gender, and sex when we dress.

Absaroka

[Ann Stef]

the feeling of smooth clothes is so nice