I was never attracted to my sister until my mother made a simple mistake one morning while I was getting ready for school. I was in the eighth grade, preparing for school on a typical weekday morning.
While my sister showered, I watched the previous night’s sports highlights. All my interests were masculine, and I had the blossoming machismo ego to go with it. I learned many of my behaviors from my group of friends, valuing qualities like strength over sensitivity. Anyways, I finished my cereal synchronously with my sister turning off the shower and headed to my room.
At the end of my bed was my outfit for the day, consisting of a shirt with my favorite football team’s logo, the baggy blue jeans I wore almost everyday, and generic white socks. Egregiously, there were no boxer shorts. I figured my mom forgot to lay them out, so I searched my dresser. I panicked when I saw an empty top drawer.
I ran into the kitchen and informed my mom of my mini dilemma. I knew she would have a pair of boxers for me. She always had the answers and always made things right. Calmly, she told to relax, and that she would find me a pair of clean undies right after she finished preparing breakfast. I hated when she used the term, “undies”.
Still freaking out, I pestered her repeatedly until she lost patience, leading me out of the kitchen and up to my room. Unfortunately, she checked the exact same places I had. That’s when my panic truly set in. She paused briefly in thought as I awaited the answer, but instead, she apologized. The night before, she had forgotten to do the laundry.
She left my room and my thoughts raced. Was I going to miss school? There’s no way I could afford to. I detested falling behind in any of my courses. As childish as it sounds, I wanted to pout and scream at her. She ruined my day (but as a thirteen year old, I felt she ruined my life).
Upon her return, she suggested a solution, but wanted my approval first. In her hands, she clasped a pair of my younger sister’s underwear. She asked if I would consider wearing them just for the day, until I returned from school. I was irate. There was absolutely no way I would wear something girls wear, especially something my dorky little sister wore. I had too much pride. During recess, I always tried to maintain an alpha facade. For anyone to find out that I was wearing girl’s underwear was insulting. My rage against my mom continued to grow.
And so, I yelled at her. Of course, she wasn’t having any of it. She came down hard on me, putting me in my place. I took a deep breath and apologized while she returned to her point. She argued no one would know and that it would only be for one school day. While I was gone, she would clean my clothes and have a pair of boxers waiting for me to change in to. Ultimately, she convinced me that I was making far too big a deal out of the situation. Although I felt emasculated, I agreed to her proposal, mainly because I felt guilty for talking back to her just moments earlier.
While showering, my mother entered the bathroom and told me she was laying out my clothes (the shower curtain separated us so it’s not like we could see one another). She flirtatiously said, “I left your panties next to your towel”, which infuriated me. I screamed, “Mom!”. She also left the door slightly open upon exiting, which always bothered me. I got out, shut the door tightly, and dried myself. I attempted to ignore the panties that mocked my masculinity. She really had laid them out right on top of the pile! How insulting!
What if someone walked by and caught a glimpse? My sister would have a field day. My days of having power over her would be over. No longer would I have the edge in fights as she would always have this over me. I could picture it: “He wore my underwear to school”. She was a year younger than me and until this point, never won a battle or argument against me. I viewed her as a pest that always wanted to be around my and my friends. I couldn’t let her find out about this.
Irked to no end, I decided I would rather stay home from school instead of degrading myself like this. Ready to call it off, I picked up the panties. It hit me immediately: “these panties feel amazing”. Moments had passed before I realized I had been staring intently at my sister’s panties.
What initially fascinated me was the juxtaposition between my own underwear and hers. Mine were so utilitarian, while hers were… beautiful. I had never felt something so feminine: the soft, almost translucent nylon material; the pretty white lace trim along the waistband and leg holes; the pastel green color complimented by the smattering of little daisies. Just holding them made me swoon. I pressed my face against them – they smelled angelic. My sister was so lucky to be able to wear items like this!
I began to wonder what she looked like wearing them. I had always viewed her as my dorky sister, but was she actually attractive? I never thought of her that way and didn’t want to, but the image of her in these panties alongside her scent was irresistible. It was my most intimate moment with a girl up to that point, as I had absolutely no luck attracting girls at school.
Before I realized it, I was trembling from this newfound discovery. A strange but welcome feeling of flushed warmth ran through me. I could feel my cheeks redden, my heart pound in my little chest. I brushed aside any false notions of masculinity, ceasing to care what others might think if they found out.
Holding the panties by the waistband, I gently lowered them near my feet and stepped into them. I knew I had crossed into a new world. The sheer softness of the nylon tantalized my hypersensitive skin. Appreciating every sensation, I slowly raised the panties over my hips, pulling them ever so gently into place. Before I had finished adjusting, I was completely hard despite never touching myself down there directly. I felt at peace but simultaneously wanted to jump for joy.
Being only 4’9″ at the time, I had to step up on the side of the bath tub so I could admire myself in the mirror. As if something buried within me was being unearthed, I posed like I had been modeling for years. – perhaps I was emulating the models I had seen in Victoria’s Secret catalogs. Whatever the reason, it felt natural. What’s more, I couldn’t stop smiling. I looked and felt beautiful.
Lost in my trance, I was returned to reality by my mother who was having a conversation with my sister. Perhaps I caused a ruckus by yelling at my mom when she entered the bathroom, because my sister was inquiring about the commotion. Their conversation turned into a loud whisper followed by my sister’s giggles. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it was obvious what they were talking about.
I haphazardly threw on my jeans and shirt, pausing momentarily to realize how disgraceful they were in comparison the panties hidden underneath. I remember walking to my room to grab my sneakers, when my sister asked, “What are you smiling about?” Normally, I would just tell her to shut up, but I tried to play it cool, murmuring something defensive like, “I’m not smiling!”
For the first time, I realized she had the upper hand on me. She must have known what I was wearing. Recalling all those times I had picked on her, it scared me. Her revenge could be two-fold. But she seemed content with this newfound power. No, she wasn’t going to out me. Instead, she would hold this over me for the rest of my life.
I looked at her in a new light. Things I never noticed before were suddenly attractive – the way she bent over the table while talking to my mom; the sight of her stomach as her shirt lifted up when she stretched. Maybe I had been so mean to her growing up because I was attracted to her. Today however, I was completely ready to admit her beauty. I felt honored just to be in her presence. I could only imagine what she looked like in her bra and panties.
I tried to distract myself. I tried to engage in normal conversation, but I simply couldn’t. My mother spotted my abnormal behavior and reassured me, “It’s okay. You don’t have to feel ashamed. Just act normal.” My sister let out a giggle and I could’ve sworn I heard her mock me. What they didn’t realize was that I was on cloud nine. I couldn’t stop enjoying the physical sensation – they were so darn comfortable! Furthermore, I remove the image of myself modeling in the mirror. I looked great and I wanted to see that view again.
My mom gave me a hug good bye before I caught the bus, apologizing once more for her forgetfulness. I looked her in the eye with a smile and said, “They’re just undies, Mom.”
At school, I felt a newfound confidence. Strangely, I felt cooler than everyone else. It was like I had found this great new garment and everyone else was missing out on it. Plus, I felt attractive. In fact, I made several excuses to go to the restroom that day just to I could strip in the stall and fleetingly admire myself. I loved my new undies.
When I got home, I acted like nothing had gone down that morning. I went into my room and halfheartedly played video games. In actuality, I just wanted to wear them for as long as possible, hoping my mother had forgotten about the dilemma. To my dismay, my mom entered my room with clean clothes, informing me I could take off my sister’s undies.
My heart sank. I started to cry, but in typical male fashion, I sucked up my tears and obliged. I could feel the weight of gender norms pressing upon my ninety pound frame. Simply put, I didn’t have the courage to tell my mom that I loved wearing panties and would prefer to wear them daily. Adding to this, the social ramifications would be too severe if anyone found out.
To my amazement, my sister had been listening in the hallway. Avoiding eye contact, she chimed in, “It’s okay, he can wear them if he wants to. I don’t wear those green ones anymore anyways.” She must have looked in her drawer and noticed which panties were missing. I wanted to hug her.
I spent the evening naked in bed, gently draping her soft panties across my smooth legs and crotch, stopping to take deep inhales from time-to-time. After a full erection for what felt like hours, I finally came when I pictured her in those green panties, sitting on my lap, rubbing her ass against my crotch.
Perhaps I would’ve discovered my love for all things feminine at a later date, but I will always recall how my mom forgetting to finish the laundry opened me up to the world of lace and nylon, but most importantly, how it started a new bond between my sister and I.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/44v1y0/mf_i_wore_my_sisters_panties_to_school_after_my