Fiction: I Can't Wear That!

[transcribed from a notebook]

“I can't wear that!”

“Why not?!?”

“I'm not a girl!”

I stared at the panties and bra dangling from my fingers like dead things. What was I doing even holding them? I could hadly reconcile my body and those undies in my mind.

“That's not the point!” she retorted.

“Then what is?”

She stared hard at me, like she couldn't believe that I could seriously ask such a silly question. “Well, you want me to, and always have. That's the point.”

I was dumfounded. How could she believe that I've always wanted to wear women's underwear? Is it even possible? Here in my hand I have the epitome of femininity, and I am supposed to have dreamed of defiling myself with it since childhood? Maybe defile is the wrong word. It's not like there's anything the least bit bad about women's lingerie. In fact, it's one of my favourite things: girls look so beautiful in it. Sometimes I think that they derive their femininity from their clothes. It's amazing how much difference clothes can make to a woman's sex apeal.

“See?” she said. “If you could see the way you're drolling over my undies! You despereately want to wear them.”

Me? Wearing this?  How could I? It's made for girls. I'm not a girl. It's just impossible. To think – that gorgeous girlish silk and satin and lace, stretched tight on my crotch, and across my chest. I can't help but picture what's supposed to go into it: sexy female anatomy. I try to picture myself in it, but all I see is female and sexy and gorgeous. It makes me horny.

“You've fondled me in those undies. You know how soft they are. They fascinate you in their femininity, don't they? Just imagine... imagine them on you.”

I feel so naughty. I know that I shouldn't, but my thoughts turn to fantasies. I picture myself as a girl, wearing these panties, and looking irresistibly girlish. I'm thinking about it. And I'm probably blushing, because it's turning me on.

“You might as well go ahead,” she says. “I know you want to.”

“I just... can't! It's so, so bad...”

“How can you say that? You know you'll like it.”

“I feel like I'm betraying my manhood.”

“It's already too late. Just thinking about it the way you are pretty well condemns you, doesn't it?”

This bit of wisdom turns me on that much more. Sheepishly, I slink into the undies. Instantly, I notice the difference in fit, and texture. So this is what it's like to be a girl.