Panties Bras And High Heel Shoes

All characters in this story are over the age of 18-years-old. There are no underage characters in this story.

Panties, Bras, and High Heel Shoes

A straight man has an abnormal attachment, a bizarre affection, an erotic affinity, and a real sexual fetish for women's panties, bras, and high heel shoes.

"Psst. Hey buddy, come closer to the monitor. I don't want anyone else to read over your shoulder what I've written. Are you alone? Good. Can you keep a secret? Good. More importantly. Can I trust you? Good."

Now, what I'm about to tell you, I never told anyone, not my mother, not my brother, not my sister, not my friends, not my co-workers, none of my girlfriends and fuck buddies, and certainly not my two, bitch, ex-wives. You'll be the first and only one to know my sexy secret fetish. Aren't you special? So why am I telling you? I don't know. I trust you, I guess.

No longer able to keep it to myself, I have to tell someone what my secret, sexy fetish is. Hoping to find a kindred spirit, someone who shares the same sexy, secret fetish that I do, I need to free myself of my guilt and my shame. I need to feel normal again. I need to feel like a man who just has a fetish, that's all and not such the big deal as I and everyone else makes it out to be. It's just a fetish, an attraction, a bizarre affection, and an erotic affinity for panties, bras, and high heel shoes.

For some inexplicable reason, especially with you reading the fetish category and, specifically with you reading a story entitled, Panties, Bras, and High Heel Shoes, I figure that you'd understand why I must do what I do behind closed doors. No doubt, just as you're a pervert to be reading an erotic fetish story on Literotica in the way that I'm a pervert to be writing an erotic fetish story on Literotica, underneath, you're probably a decent guy. You're probably much like me, honest and straightforward but with a secret, sexy fetish to hide. Am I right?

A regular Joe, you probably work at an underpaid, thankless job, raise your ungrateful family, swear your allegiance to the morally corrupt United States flag of America, watch football, baseball, basketball, hockey, drink beer, and pay your taxes. Moreover, from out of all the thousands of stories on Literotica that you could have read, you picked this one. You chose my story to read. You're the one taking the time out of your busy day to read my story.

"Wow!"

Mano a mano, with you reading my story and knowing something about me, we have a bond already. Thank you for reading my story. Only, after you read my story, sadly, with only one, repeat, just one reader out of 500 ungrateful and unappreciative readers voting or more descriptively not voting, please vote for my story. Being that all of my stories are contest stories, I really could use the support of your vote. Please, I beg you, vote for my story. I thank you in advance for your vote. The 5 vote, the highest vote, is the last star on the right.

* * * * *

Just as it's a difficult thing for me to confess, it's even more difficult for me to write about my secret, sexy fetish. With me telling you my sexy, secret fetish, it isn't as if you're out to get me and/or determined to out me. It isn't as if you have an axe to grind or that you're going to blackmail me and/or extort money from me once I tell you my sexy, secret fetish or I hope you don't. Nah, you'd never do something like that. You don't have that bad behavior in your. You're not that type of guy just as I'm not that type of guy. Am I right? We're just two regular fellas who have a secret, sexy fetish.

This is something just between two guys who no doubt share a similar passion. Just as I don't know who the Hell you are, you don't know who the Hell I am. Just as you could be anyone, I could be anyone too. Being that I have to tell someone or I'll burst, somehow I feel safe telling you, a complete stranger reading my fetish story on Literotica. I feel safe telling someone who may possibly share my fetish. I feel safe telling someone who may understand my secret, sexy fetish. So, here goes.

Are you ready for me to tell you a secret, my sexy secret? Only, you must promise not to tell anyone. I mean it. You can't tell anyone. Humiliated and ashamed, I'd be so embarrassed if anyone knew my sexy, secret fetish, especially my friends, my co-workers, my mother, my brother, my sister, my girlfriends, my fuck buddies, and certainly not my two, bitch, ex-wives. I could never face anyone again. Trust me, you'd have me over a barrel and in a pickle if you didn't keep my secret and blabbed about me all over the Internet.

So, promise me that you won't tell anyone. Promise me. Do you promise? Swear on your mother that you won't tell anyone what I do behind closed doors? Swear on your children that you won't divulge my fetish? Just so that I'd feel comfortably safe that you'd keep my secret, take my Bible and put your left hand on my Bible and raise your right hand. Now repeat after me.

"I, the reader of this story, promise not to tell anyone what I just read. I promise never to divulge the sexy secret and/or the fetish of the writer of the story, Panties, Bras, and High Heel Shoes."

Are we good? Okay. Being that I trust you, that's good enough for me, I guess. Being that you're reading a story in the fetish category, no doubt, you have a secret, sexy fetish too. Being that you're reading a story entitled Panties, Bras, and High Heel Shoes, maybe your secret, sexy fetish are panties, bras, and/or high heel shoes too. Maybe one day, you'll trust me enough to tell me your secret fetish too. Yet, for now, here goes, this is my story and my sexy, secret fetish exposed.

* * * * *

When I'm alone and in my house, especially while watching football and/or baseball while having a beer, God, this is so very difficult for me to confess. I realize that this may sound odd to men who don't share my fetish for panties, bras, and high heel shoes, but I enjoy wearing a pair of woman's panties, a woman's bra, and a pair of woman's high heel shoes. I tried wearing silk stockings but I don't like how they mat down my leg hair in the way that my long underwear does and I refuse to shave my legs.

Moreover, a total waste of money, I always snag, run, and ruin nylon stockings with my toenails. Furthermore, those frigging garter belts are a pain in the ass. So very frustrating, they never stay closed to holdup my nylons. When my nylons fall, it looks as if I have wrinkled legs. I don't know how women wear nylons and garter belts, and pantyhose are even worse. I hate those too.

They should execute the gay, fashion designer who came up with the idea of pantyhose and award a medal to the man who invented panties. With them trying to start another deplorable fashion fad, before Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, and Jennifer Lopez, there was a time when women didn't wear panties. No sir. If women needed to pee, they'd just raise their long skirts and squat in the middle of the road. If you ask my druthers, definitely, without a doubt, I prefer a woman who wears panties.

I love women's panties. Panties are so sexy. Something to slowly remove, especially the first time removing them from a woman with your fingers or with your teeth, as if hiding a sexy surprise, panties are the thing that wraps the pussy and the buttocks. Oh, my God, I so love panties no matter what the color, the style, or the size.

Now that I'm thinking about panties, let me ask you this? Why don't they make men's panties? I'd buy them. Wouldn't you? Yeah sure, there are silk boxers but I never heard of silk briefs, have you? Moreover, other than cheap Fruit of the Loom underwear, most men's underwear is white. White! I hate white. White isn't even a color. If it's not white then it's black. Black isn't even a color either.

Then there's the drab grey that they use as a men's underwear color as if it's a continuation of a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I want color. I don't want white, black, or grey underwear. Even when it's clean, grey underwear always looks dirty and dingy. Why can't I have red, blue, green, orange, and yellow underwear? Women have colored underwear, why can't I have colored underwear too?

We men want to wear colored panties too. It's about time we had gay, fashion designers designing underwear for us men too. It's about time we felt sexy beneath our clothes. It's about time they had a lingerie store for men, Valentino's Secret. Huh? What do you think? Instead of Victoria's Secret, we could have Valentino's Secret. I think it's a great idea.

* * * * *

The bottom line is that if I'm going through the trouble of having a sexual fetish, I may as well pick one that not only makes me feel sexy but also that makes me feel comfortable too. I prefer panties, just panties, bikini panties, actually, blue, bikini panties are my preference and my favorites. I know it's strange, especially if you've never tried wearing women's panties yourself, but I find it as sexually exciting as I find it relaxing to lounge around in women's underwear.

As soon as I put on a pair of panties, I get an erection and most times I masturbate while wearing this sexy outfit. You know, now that I mentioned Valentino's Secret before, if they invented men's panties, all us men who enjoyed wearing women's panties in the privacy of our homes, would no longer have a panty fetish. Think about that. An untapped market, imagine how much designers could make by making men's panties.

"Wow! Now there's something very insightful, don't you think?"

Maybe because I'm sexually biased but, to be honest, I find wearing women's panties much more comfortable than wearing men's briefs or boxer shorts. I just like the feel of women's panties, especially when they're silk. Now being that I have big man boobs from doing tens of thousands of pushups when I was younger, especially when I was boxing after I was honorably discharged from the Marine Corps, I can actually pull off wearing a bra. I'm no D cup but I'm definitely a B cup. I can even make my man boobs bounce to music.

Wanna see? Just let me remove my bra. Watch. Just let me put on a song. Here's one by the Village People. I'm not gay but I like the YMCA song.

"Young man, there's no need to feel down. I said young man, pick yourself off the ground. I said young man, 'cause you're in a new town there's no need to be unhappy.

Young man, there's a place you can go. I said young man, when you're short on your dough, you can stay there, and I'm sure you will find many ways to have a good time.

It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A. It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A. They have everything for young men to enjoy. You can hang out with all the boys.

It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A. It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A. You can get yourself clean. You can have a good meal. You can do whatever you feel."

Okay, enough of that. Did you see my boobs bouncing to music? I love my man boobs. Hey, even Arnold had man boobs, boobs even bigger than mine when he was bodybuilding and taking anabolic steroids. A lot of football players have man boobs. Don't look at me all queer eyed just because I'm dancing to the Village People's song Y.M.C.A while bouncing my man boobs and dressed in panties and in high heels. I don't have to be gay to like the song more than I do the lyrics. Okay? You have a problem with that?

* * * * *

Men, men, men, men... Now, for sure, I'm a straight man. I'm a man's man, a manly man, and a macho man but there's just something about wearing women's sexy underthings with high heels that gets my motor running. I'm not a fag, a fruit, or a queer. Am I allowed to write that? I'm not gay. I'm not a politically correct homosexual. I'm a 100% American heterosexual. I don't wear wigs, makeup, dresses, and I don't march in the gay parade. Unless I found myself in prison and forced to have sex with a man, I'd never have sex with a man. Women are what get me hot. I love women. I'm just a regular Joe, a man coincidentally named Joe.

Being that I'm not a tall man, barely 5'8" tall, wearing women's high heels gives me a whole new perspective on life. I only wish I could wear high heel shoes outside without being looked at as if there was something wrong with me. It took me a while to learn how to walk in them without breaking my ankle but as long as hold onto the railing while walking down stairs, as long as I buy the right size shoe, and as long as the heels aren't too pointy in the front, I find wearing heels very comfortable.

Besides, pretending that I'm 3" taller, I like looking at myself in the mirror while wearing heels and shaving my big, ugly mug. A sight to see, if anyone but my dog, a German Shepherd named Hitler, saw me, I'd be so very embarrassed. I named my dog Hitler because, well, he's German and because I like saying "Heel Hitler," instead of "Heil Hitler." Hey, I think it's funny, especially when calling him from a distance in a dog park that's frequented by people of the Jewish religion. Either I receive a dirty look or a laugh. An ice breaker, you'd be surprise how many women I pick up with those two words.

"Heel Hitler! Heel Hilter!"

* * * * *

Being that I'm sitting here wearing a bra, panties, and high heels, let's talk about women. Now look at me. Go ahead, just look at me. I'm relegated to living alone while wearing a bra, panties, and high heel shoes. Yet, don't be sad for me. Don't you dare pity me. I don't want your pity and I don't need your pity. Even though I'm broke after going through two costly divorces, for the first time in my life, I'm happy. For the first time in my life, I'm truly content. I'm living my passion. I'm living my dream. I'm living my life exactly in the way that I want to live my life. I'm experiencing my fetish behind closed doors and in the privacy of my home while wearing panties, a bra, and high heel shoes.

Married twice and divorced twice, an ex-Marine who served his country with honor and distinction, a man who's just like you, I'm a normal guy. Only, I have this thing, a fetish, for panties, bras, and high heel shoes. It all started when I was young, barely 18-years-old. My mother and sister, as a joke, dressed me for Halloween as a stripper. They laughed. They thought it was funny seeing me dressed in panties, a bra, and high heel shoes. They thought it was even funnier when I developed an erection and my hard cock pressed against the sheer, thin material of my sister's panty.

Actually, no doubt not even realizing what they were doing, not looking at it as sexual but more as what women do with other women, not that I was a woman, but I was a man dressed up as a woman, they stripped me naked. I couldn't believe it when my mother and sister stripped me naked. At first embarrassed, it only took me a few seconds to become sexually aroused. There I was totally exposed to my sister and to my mother. It wasn't sexual to them but it was sexual to me. As soon as my sister removed my underwear, my cock stuck straight out and pointed at her as if wanting her. With my mother and sister staring at my erect cock, there I was naked with my mother and sister dressing me as if I was a woman instead of a testosterone filled, horny, young man.

Oh, yeah, you guessed it. They are the ones responsible for me having a panty, bra, and high heel fetish today when they costumed me in a pair of panties, a bra, and high heel shoes, along with a wig and makeup. A reluctant victim, at the time I thought it was funny too. At the time, I had no idea of the repercussions that I'd have later in life. Many years later but to no avail, I even saw a therapist over my fetish.

Can you imagine that? I was so ashamed. I was so embarrassed. I was so sexually excited standing before my mother and sister while totally naked. After that, when I routinely started wearing panties, bras, and high heel shoes, I didn't want anyone to know that I had a panty, bra, and high heel shoe fetish. Yet, now that I ridded myself of my gold digging ex-wives, I'm free to do and to wear whatever I want and whenever I want to wear it.

Then, shortly after my mother and sister dressed me as a sexy, lingerie clad stripper, I used to sneak in my mother's and sister's rooms when they weren't home to feel their panties and bras while masturbating and while walking around in a pair of their high heel shoes. Now, controlled by my panty, bra, and high heel shoe fetish, I can't walk by a lingerie counter in a department store without having my wicked way with panties and bras. I can't go by a shoe store without going in to look at all the high heels my size.

For fear that I'd be labeled a cross dresser, I don't dare try on the high heels in the store. Instead I buy everything I need online. Every other day, panties, bras, and high heels arrive at my door. Seemingly my only source of entertainment other than the baseball and football channels, I've spend thousands of dollars on panties, bras, and high heel shoes. Quite the valuable collection, I have every color and style of panties, bras, and high heel shoes. I even had to build a secret closet in the dressing room of bedroom with a secret door to house all of my panties, bras, and high heel shoes.

So, now that you know my sexy, secret fetish, what's yours?

THE END