At lunchtime, I slunk down to the parking garage to spend some quality time with my newly acquired girlie clothes. I had been thinking about them all morning, especially since my brief glimpse of one of my new shoes amounted to a religious experience.
I nervously looked over each shoulder as I exited the elevator and walked to my car. There was nobody here, and even then, I'd be fairly well hidden in my car. Nobody would even come by, much less have any idea what I was up to.
Once again, I opened my box and unloaded its contents onto the passenger seat. This time, however, I would not be content with merely contemplating each item through its clear plastic wrapper. I needed to examine them much more closely, if for no other reason than to confirm whether they met my expectations. The problem with ordering clothes online is that things look much better on the screen (especially when worn by a stunningly beautiful supermodel) than in the hand. I was already surprised by the apparent padding in both the lingerie bra and the bikini top, never mind the boldness of the shoes. What else might be different from my expectations? Would any of it disappoint?
I started with the satin panties. The first thing I noticed, before I even opened the wrapper, was a pretty bow on the front. I hadn't noticed it in the picture. I was pleased to notice the pretty stitching along the legs, and the lace accents on the front. When I tore open the wrapper and took them out, I unfolded them in front of me. They looked fantastic. I trembled with glee at the thought that someone might see me admiring women's panties in my car. I regretted that I had no way of putting them on then and there. The satin was absurdly soft. This was better than I had even thought it would be. I had expected something much smaller and flimsier, like my wife's microfiber panties. These are more elaborate and somehow more substantial.
Next came the matching bra. I was already delighted by the padding, which I now confirmed was the reason for the volume of the package. I never expected to get this kind of help! Now I could look like I have a reason for owning a bra! Even better was the satin all the way around to the back. This bra is prettier in many ways than any of my wife's. I couldn't wait to wear this with my new panties. I had fairly low expectations for my new underwear, and this far exceeded them.
Then I unwrapped the bikini bottom. I had ordered the double-string bottom, which was new to me. With all the bikinis I've worn, I have never experienced one like this. The closest was my ex-girlfriend's, which didn't have the string bows, just two parallel strings on each side. I wasn't sure what it would look like in practice, but in the pictures on the website, they were sometimes crossed, sometimes not, sometimes had a string bow, sometimes not. This was the first mystery I wanted to solve; but before that, I couldn't help but notice that the material was not at all what I expected: it was more plastic than smooth like a normal swimsuit. This was going to be a new experience altogether. Also, the silver was more lustrous than in my previous silver bikini. The effect is once again shockingly sexy, far more so than any other bikini I've worn. The sides, meanwhile, turned out to be much closer together than in the picture. At first, I thought they might be completely different from the pictures, but then I realized that the strings are stretchy, and possibly adjustable. I have no doubt that this will be a fantastic new addition to my secret wardrobe. The double string is the best of both worlds: the width of the side and the string combine beautifully to accentuate feminine hips.
The bikini top was a mild surprise as well. This, too, was padded, which should be fun to play-act with. I was expecting more of a brassiere, with a clasp at the back. Instead, it ties both behind the neck and at the back. The material makes it hang together in a way that is completely unlike any other bra I've ever worn. It should be quite fun to experience it.
The metallic silver teddy was the wild card in all of this. I ordered it because it was cheap, and because it appeared to have lace accents and bows at the bottom, which made them much more appealing than a simple metallic bodysuit. I was blown away by the wispiness of the fabric: even though it covers much more than my bikini and undies, it's much less substantial than any of the other pieces I'd unwrapped. It clasps at the bottom, like a good bodysuit. I couldn't hope to fold it again because the material flowed in my hands like liquid. This should be fascinating to put on. It should go quite nicely with my shoes, too.
Last but not least, I released the right shoe from its paper trap and examined it much more closely. I had planned to eyeball it to see if my gargantuan abomination of a foot would even come close to fitting in it, but now that I saw it, the shape made such comparisons utterly impossible. This shoe is so completely different in shape from anything that I've ever touched that looking at it gave me no clue as to whether or not it would fit. This left me with the dizzyingly attractive option of having to try it on.
As I removed my own shoe, a young man walked behind my car, and entered his own, which was parked directly to the right of mine. Only a mere glance into my passenger window would have shown him the open shoe box with pink and white paper strewn inside it. I pretended to fiddle with my music player while he climbed into his car, backed out, and drove away. I got no indication that he even looked at me, or noticed anything at all about what I was doing. Nothing feminine (other than the pink paper and shoe box) was visible.
As soon as he left, I dutifully resumed my mission of trying on the lovely shoe. I kept my sock on, to avoid defiling it with my horrible naked manly foot, and also to have a little slipperiness, like the little nylons they provide at women's shoe stores. I tried desperately to squeeze into the toe, but it wasn't getting to the tip of the shoe. As I forced in my foot, the shoe kept tipping over, and digging into my floor mat. I couldn't see what I was doing down there. At last, I decided to try strapping it on, but I couldn't see the strap, either. However, I was able to get such a length of the strap into the buckle that I am confident that I will succeed, when I have more time and space. Anyhow, there is no larger size. Also, I am able to fit into one pair of my wife's shoes, which are at least two sizes smaller, albeit with much struggle and stretching of straps. The bigger challenge will be walking in them, which will probably also squeeze my toes down lower into the shoe.
As soon as I was satisfied with my divine footwear, I packed it into the box again, and moved all of the paper aside for easy access. I put everything back into the packing box, closed it, and went back to my office. All of this was done in less than 15 minutes.
Now I find myself unable to concentrate, and avoiding work by writing this. I would love to spend more time hidden in the shadows admiring my purchases. Getting to know them will require much more intimacy, however, and much more time.
The Unboxing
Today I retrieved from my secret postal box my first secret delivery of feminine attire. This was a bold initial experiment, which cost me quite a bit of money, and delivered me more new stuff at once than I've ever attempted before. I picked up my package from the post office on my way to work. It came in a simple, nondescript cardboard box.
For days, I had anticipated this moment. I could even dare to wear my new panties this very day! That would be incredibly risky: I contemplated how I could even get them on, given the lack of necessary privacy even in the men's room at the office. I also worried about defiling them before I could even really appreciate them.
Already back on the road, yet unable to contain my excitement, I cut the tape sealing the box while waiting at a traffic light. When I pried open the box flaps, I immediately noticed each item sealed into its own plastic bag. One by one, I pulled out these bags and placed them on the passenger seat, for all the world to see: the bikini bra; the satin bra; the bikini panties; the metallic teddy. But where are my satin panties? Did they mess up my order? The shoe box lay at the bottom of the box, with a packing slip and catalog on top of it. Were my panties together with the bra? That would explain the volume of the bra bag. But the packing slip shows it as a separate item, and I did order it separately. The label on the bra bag says nothing about panties. My heart sank with fear of disappointment.
These quick explorations were cut short when the traffic light changed, and I had to go. I quickly tossed everything back into the box, and drove on. Almost every traffic light was green, which would normally be a good thing, but I wanted to spend time inspecting my goods. Where were my damned panties? They had to be hidden inside somehow. I finally hit another red light, and pulled out the shoe box. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the panties in their bag, folded flatter than any other item, underneath where the shoe box had been. I pulled them out and put the shoe box back in, followed by all the other items. Everything was now accounted for.
I finally arrived at work, and pulled into a parking space in the garage. I arrived just in time for a morning meeting, but it would have to wait. Well hidden from prying eyes, I again pulled out all of my new garments, and marveled at each one in its plastic wrapper. Both bras were much puffier than I expected; were they padded? But what I really wanted to see were the shoes. I pulled the shoe box out of the packing box, and placed it on the passenger seat. I cut the tape that held it closed, and peered into it. The shoes were covered in paper. I peeled aside the top layer, revealing the right shoe.
I was stunned by the boldness of the pattern, the shine of the leather, the height of the platform at the toe, and the outrageously feminine shape of the shoe overall. I moved more paper out of the way, and tried to lift it out of the box to get a better look at it. It was still tangled in some packing paper, and as I pulled at it, the sheer height and slenderness of the heel, which had remained hidden, became shockingly evident. I couldn't even see it, yet I was awed and disconcerted by it. I had touched the shoe of a Goddess, and I would soon giddily sacrifice myself to its overwhelming femininity. Somewhat intimidated, I gently released the shoe, closed the box, and put everything back into the packing box. I didn't have time for this.
My heart racing, I rushed up to my office to join the meeting, only five minutes late, still reeling from the realization that I now have incredibly sexy 4 1/2 inch heels, of which I am woefully unworthy. The rest of the day would be spent fantasizing about my new stash.
For days, I had anticipated this moment. I could even dare to wear my new panties this very day! That would be incredibly risky: I contemplated how I could even get them on, given the lack of necessary privacy even in the men's room at the office. I also worried about defiling them before I could even really appreciate them.
Already back on the road, yet unable to contain my excitement, I cut the tape sealing the box while waiting at a traffic light. When I pried open the box flaps, I immediately noticed each item sealed into its own plastic bag. One by one, I pulled out these bags and placed them on the passenger seat, for all the world to see: the bikini bra; the satin bra; the bikini panties; the metallic teddy. But where are my satin panties? Did they mess up my order? The shoe box lay at the bottom of the box, with a packing slip and catalog on top of it. Were my panties together with the bra? That would explain the volume of the bra bag. But the packing slip shows it as a separate item, and I did order it separately. The label on the bra bag says nothing about panties. My heart sank with fear of disappointment.
These quick explorations were cut short when the traffic light changed, and I had to go. I quickly tossed everything back into the box, and drove on. Almost every traffic light was green, which would normally be a good thing, but I wanted to spend time inspecting my goods. Where were my damned panties? They had to be hidden inside somehow. I finally hit another red light, and pulled out the shoe box. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the panties in their bag, folded flatter than any other item, underneath where the shoe box had been. I pulled them out and put the shoe box back in, followed by all the other items. Everything was now accounted for.
I finally arrived at work, and pulled into a parking space in the garage. I arrived just in time for a morning meeting, but it would have to wait. Well hidden from prying eyes, I again pulled out all of my new garments, and marveled at each one in its plastic wrapper. Both bras were much puffier than I expected; were they padded? But what I really wanted to see were the shoes. I pulled the shoe box out of the packing box, and placed it on the passenger seat. I cut the tape that held it closed, and peered into it. The shoes were covered in paper. I peeled aside the top layer, revealing the right shoe.
I was stunned by the boldness of the pattern, the shine of the leather, the height of the platform at the toe, and the outrageously feminine shape of the shoe overall. I moved more paper out of the way, and tried to lift it out of the box to get a better look at it. It was still tangled in some packing paper, and as I pulled at it, the sheer height and slenderness of the heel, which had remained hidden, became shockingly evident. I couldn't even see it, yet I was awed and disconcerted by it. I had touched the shoe of a Goddess, and I would soon giddily sacrifice myself to its overwhelming femininity. Somewhat intimidated, I gently released the shoe, closed the box, and put everything back into the packing box. I didn't have time for this.
My heart racing, I rushed up to my office to join the meeting, only five minutes late, still reeling from the realization that I now have incredibly sexy 4 1/2 inch heels, of which I am woefully unworthy. The rest of the day would be spent fantasizing about my new stash.
Why Fight?
Whenever I browse for girlish things to wear, I inevitably end up concentrating on swimwear. Even before I got myself a PO box to get secret deliveries, I would always spend most of my time contemplating bathing suits.
This goes back to my initial fetish for swimsuits, which were, during my formative years, the only reasonably sexy garments available to me. To this day, I still wear swimwear far more often than anything else. In my nascent fantasies oh so long ago, I used to imagine that lingerie was the next level up, an unattainable wish that I would never be able to fulfill. You'd think that by now I would have made the switch, now that I have virtually unlimited access to just about anything.
I've already placed an order. I'm already getting excited about my next one. And what is it that I'm mainly interested in? Swimsuits! I want to have every possible kind of swimsuit!
It's really quite ridiculous. I keep telling myself that I need more lingerie, that I need to build a panty collection, like any self-respecting sissy. But when I browse, I can't help but gravitate to the swimwear.
So why fight it? It's what I like, isn't it? So what if I have more swimsuits than any woman even has? So what if when I get horny, I have dozens of bikinis to choose from? I might as well just embrace my preverse need for bikinis, and enjoy it!
Therefore, I've decided to stop trying to conform to what I think I'm supposed to do, and either explore every possible facet of swimwear into infinity, or get this swimwear fetish out of my system, whichever comes first.
I hereby embrace my predilection for swimsuits, swimwear, bikinis, monokinis, tankinis. All hail the mighty bikini!
This goes back to my initial fetish for swimsuits, which were, during my formative years, the only reasonably sexy garments available to me. To this day, I still wear swimwear far more often than anything else. In my nascent fantasies oh so long ago, I used to imagine that lingerie was the next level up, an unattainable wish that I would never be able to fulfill. You'd think that by now I would have made the switch, now that I have virtually unlimited access to just about anything.
I've already placed an order. I'm already getting excited about my next one. And what is it that I'm mainly interested in? Swimsuits! I want to have every possible kind of swimsuit!
It's really quite ridiculous. I keep telling myself that I need more lingerie, that I need to build a panty collection, like any self-respecting sissy. But when I browse, I can't help but gravitate to the swimwear.
So why fight it? It's what I like, isn't it? So what if I have more swimsuits than any woman even has? So what if when I get horny, I have dozens of bikinis to choose from? I might as well just embrace my preverse need for bikinis, and enjoy it!
Therefore, I've decided to stop trying to conform to what I think I'm supposed to do, and either explore every possible facet of swimwear into infinity, or get this swimwear fetish out of my system, whichever comes first.
I hereby embrace my predilection for swimsuits, swimwear, bikinis, monokinis, tankinis. All hail the mighty bikini!
First Order
Having secured a PO box for deliveries, I wasted no time in starting to put together an order from my favorite vendor.
The main mission was to fill in my underwear collection. I realized recently that my current stash only includes two pairs of panties, one of which is part of a lingerie outfit. I thought it would be important to embrace my feminine side by wearing panties more often, possibly even when out in public, but I would need a whole lot more for that to be possible.
The first order of business was finding suitable panties, and then getting a matching bra. The ideal panties, in my mind, are silk or satin, and off-white. This is perhaps the first distinction I was able to make between boy underwear and girl underwear, and it seems quite true in its simplicity. Surprisingly, this wasn't the easiest thing to find at a lingerie store, given that they specialize on the edges of the spectrum: fantasy lingerie from the minds of horny men on one side, and comfortable everyday cottons on the other. However, I did pick out a winner: ivory satin bikini panties with lace accents, and a matching bra. For good measure, and given the discount when buying more than one, I also selected the same in black.
Then I fell into the usual trap: I spent an inordinate amount of time looking at swimwear. I wanted something cheap to fill out my collection, and wanted something with decorative hardware. I almost ordered a lovely bikini with rings at the sides, but I balked at the color and pattern, and anyway was unsure whether it really did come with the rings. I instead chose a double-string bikini, in the same metallic silver of my old favorite bikini that I wore hundreds of times back in the day.
The bra I chose was a push-up halter, pictured here in gold.
Now I was ready to complete my order, but I wasn't quite convinced. The total was rather high, and I wondered whether I was really getting exactly what I wanted. I thought about ditching the teddy, but it was so cheap as to make no difference. Then I thought about the underwear. Sure, it would be nice to have more underwear, but I wasn't even totally sure if the kind I had chosen would be suitable. I realized that I was getting sucked in by the discount for buying more than one, and that it wasn't a very good deal after all. So on a whim, and with a devilish grin, I dropped the black panties and bra, and added a pair of super-cute shoes.
I've wanted some tall strappy sandals for a long time, but I've never had the courage to buy any. I've bought FMB's, but I've grown tired of them. At last, I will have appropriate footwear to feed my perversions.
I filled in my info, and clicked submit. I now have a bunch of lady clothes on their way to my secret postal box, and I can't wait to get my hands on all of it.
I'm particularly excited about the shoes.
The main mission was to fill in my underwear collection. I realized recently that my current stash only includes two pairs of panties, one of which is part of a lingerie outfit. I thought it would be important to embrace my feminine side by wearing panties more often, possibly even when out in public, but I would need a whole lot more for that to be possible.
The first order of business was finding suitable panties, and then getting a matching bra. The ideal panties, in my mind, are silk or satin, and off-white. This is perhaps the first distinction I was able to make between boy underwear and girl underwear, and it seems quite true in its simplicity. Surprisingly, this wasn't the easiest thing to find at a lingerie store, given that they specialize on the edges of the spectrum: fantasy lingerie from the minds of horny men on one side, and comfortable everyday cottons on the other. However, I did pick out a winner: ivory satin bikini panties with lace accents, and a matching bra. For good measure, and given the discount when buying more than one, I also selected the same in black.
Then I fell into the usual trap: I spent an inordinate amount of time looking at swimwear. I wanted something cheap to fill out my collection, and wanted something with decorative hardware. I almost ordered a lovely bikini with rings at the sides, but I balked at the color and pattern, and anyway was unsure whether it really did come with the rings. I instead chose a double-string bikini, in the same metallic silver of my old favorite bikini that I wore hundreds of times back in the day.
The bra I chose was a push-up halter, pictured here in gold.
Then I threw in a super-cheap but sexy teddy just for fun. It was only 6.99, and the lace and bows at the legs were simply too pretty for me to pass up at that price.
Now I was ready to complete my order, but I wasn't quite convinced. The total was rather high, and I wondered whether I was really getting exactly what I wanted. I thought about ditching the teddy, but it was so cheap as to make no difference. Then I thought about the underwear. Sure, it would be nice to have more underwear, but I wasn't even totally sure if the kind I had chosen would be suitable. I realized that I was getting sucked in by the discount for buying more than one, and that it wasn't a very good deal after all. So on a whim, and with a devilish grin, I dropped the black panties and bra, and added a pair of super-cute shoes.
I've wanted some tall strappy sandals for a long time, but I've never had the courage to buy any. I've bought FMB's, but I've grown tired of them. At last, I will have appropriate footwear to feed my perversions.
I filled in my info, and clicked submit. I now have a bunch of lady clothes on their way to my secret postal box, and I can't wait to get my hands on all of it.
I'm particularly excited about the shoes.
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