tagFetishPanty Boy Ch. 02

Panty Boy Ch. 02


This story picks up the morning after the first part and continues the tale of a family adjusting to growing up, sexuality, and changes in their life's circumstances. Thank you Molycactus for your wonderful editing!


The next morning I woke after an unusually great night's sleep. Slowly coming to my senses, I had a moment's panic realizing the baby doll and panty nightgown Mom had invited me to wear last night still caressed my body. Normally, for fear of discovery, I'd have stripped off the nightie before sleeping. It would never do for Mom or one of my sisters to catch me wearing such a thing or (far worse) for me to have an "accident" during the night that left the frilly panties wet with nocturnal discharge and me with no way to discretely get them clean. Today, however, was a new dawn.

My mind drifted over the memory of chatting with the girls and Mom while watching Sharon Stone flash her pussy in the movie. Sally's ribald comment, "She needs more attention to personal hygiene," got a big laugh from Mom. Maggie's reply, "Hey, not everybody likes a clean shaved clam," nearly made me spurt my cola across the room. We ate popcorn, teased about diets, hair styles and boyfriends (although I was mostly silent here) thru the film. The level of tension and teasing had changed, just as Mom had wanted, and we went to bed after particularly warm hugs and pecks on the cheek all around.

Fully awake after my first night dressed openly as 'Jamie', I was waiting impatiently in the hall, nervously crossing my legs and trying to distract my attention from the sounds of water running. Awaiting my turn to use the bathroom and desperate to pee, I could hear the shower and just knew it would be forever before my sister- whoever it was- finished. Things were looking very... anxious.

Just then, Mom drifted out of her room and saw me dancing the 'gotta go' jig. Casually opening the bathroom door, she leaned in and said, "Sally? Maggie?"

"Yeah Mom? It's me," Maggie replied.

"You're hogging the facilities again, dear! Please be kind enough to share." She hesitated a moment, grinning at me before adding to Mags, "Your sister Jamie is desperate to use the toilet. Be nice."

Mom stepped aside, leaving the door wide open for me. I heard Maggie humming softly in the shower as I quickly slid the dainty panties to my knees and held baby doll top above my waist while I stood to relieve myself. Maggie giggled a bit at the sound of my pee hitting the bowl.

"When you're done, how about handing me the shampoo on the sink... little... sister!" she said with mirth.

Embarrassed by the whole situation, I grabbed the bottle and turned toward the shower in a quandary about how to hand it to Maggie. The opaque shower curtain gave me no hint about where she stood and I was afraid to open the edge and make her angry at that violation of her privacy. I was about to toss it over the rod and let her deal with it when she partially opened the curtain and reached a hand out. I stood transfixed by the glimpse of a breast and wet hair before she pulled the curtain around herself.

"Thanks, Jamie!" Maggie said, taking the bottle from my hand, but her eyes never left my crotch.

Too late, I realized that I'd ignored my state of undress and that Maggie was getting a close look at my member. As soon as I grasped that reality, the thing rapidly began to grow until I became fully erect! I turned my back and tried to slide my panties back up over my engorged penis, but the best I could manage was to leave the head sticking out above the elastic band and try to cover my embarrassment at the top with my hands.

Maggie's soft giggle as I left the bathroom, closing the door behind me, told me she had gotten a thrill by flashing me. I was rock hard under the thin silk panties of the baby doll, totally humiliated and embarrassed, not to mention afraid I had undone all the good Mom had started by getting us to treat our sexuality as no big deal. Shit. I changed back into boxers and jeans, going down to breakfast as Jim.

Fortunately, Mom's sixth sense kicked in. While the four of us drank our juice and coffee and ate, she spoke some praise, "Maggie, that was sweet of you not to make a big deal about sharing facilities with Jamie. I know it's still a bit awkward but it was a good beginning." Mom smiled at my sister.

"Uhm... To tell you the truth, Mom, it was a bit more than that," she confessed.


"Well, I asked for the shampoo and when I opened the curtain to reach for it I sorta forgot to keep myself covered. I'm afraid 'Jamie' got an eyeful," Maggie replied.

"Actually, that's exactly the thing I'd hoped we would begin to do," said Mom. "Generally forget that there are sexual differences that we need to worry about."

Sally put down her spoon and slowly chewed her cereal, a sly grin beginning to cross her face as she stared at my blushing face and made her own deductions.

"Yeah, sure, that's true Mom. But, while 'Jamie' handed over the bottle of L'Oreal... uhm... my new sister was standing with everything... uhm... On display?"

At that point, Sally erupted into raucous laughter and had to cover her mouth to hold back her mirth, and her cereal. Mom, however, wasn't so amused. "So? What do you mean by 'on display', Maggie?"

"Oh, Mom!" she said with exasperation. "Jamie had her panties down around her knees and was holding up her babydoll top around her navel while she was standing and peeing. Handing me the shampoo meant that everything from belly button to knees was... out there... if you get my drift!"

"OH! Dear..." said Mom. Then she started to grin herself and looked over at me. "And what happened next?"

"Awww, ahhhh," I stammered, my throat suddenly dry and obstructed my embarrassment. I cleared my throat noisily and stumbled on, "Well, I had just finished my, uhm, business, and was, uhm, wondering how to get her the bottle without invading her privacy 'cause the curtain isn't see-through..."

Everyone nodded at this statement of the obvious but at least it affirmed their patience and willingness to hear my side without judging me.

"So, suddenly the curtain opens and there she is, and I get this flash of Maggie's boobs and got distracted and just stood there while she took the stuff and then I realized she was gettin' a really close up view and I got red and then I couldn't, you know, get the panties up around myself because they wouldn't fit anymore when I got like I did and..."

I noticed all three women were holding back their amusement at my running story and just stopped the verbal diarrhea before it could get worse and looked at my feet. "So, yeah. Damn."

Mom took my hands in hers, pulled me to her, and gently stroked me, murmuring soft nothings about how it was all just fine. Sally and Maggie got their laughter under control and Maggie apologized for embarrassing me. Sally added, "Darn! I wish I'd gotten a look too!"

Mom sat back in her chair and seemed to drift away in thought. Breakfast sort of stumbled along after that, as each of us kept our faces neutral and our thoughts to ourselves. After a time, Mom came back to our part of the universe and looked at each of us in turn before speaking.

"Ladies," she said with inclusive emphasis, "We must try to ignore the peculiar plumbing of one of our number. Jamie can't help or change what's there but we can do better at not noticing." Turning to me, she continued, "I presume the sight of Maggie, on top of the view you were offering her, was the cause of your discomfort?"

I nodded in affirmation, glad she'd explained the inexplicable to my sisters for me.

"We have just the one bathroom so unless we plan to act like frat boys and pee in the sink, we'll just have to share. Actively share. That means we avoid shutting the door unless there's something very disgusting or very private we need to do. That way, any of us who need to do so can make use of the unoccupied facilities without fear of disturbing our sisters."

After that, it was common to walk into the bathroom to pee while one or the other of my sisters was showering or drying her hair at the sink. They made no effort to check out my 'equipment' and likewise I made no effort to peek around the shower curtain or try to get a sneak peek through an armhole while Maggie stood at the mirror fussing with her hair. We wore what was comfortable - usually, that meant a frilly baby doll for me and some combination of t-shirt and panties or threadbare nightgown for my sisters. Mom usually opted for a thigh-length t-shirt over panties and often wore her lace robe.

There were even times I went to brush my teeth or shower and caught one of the girls using the toilet. I could hear the stream tinkling and (at first) furtively glanced over to see their legs drawn together and their panties draped around knees or ankles. Matching their nonchalance, I made it a point not to look while they wiped and pulled their panties back up, being content with a more deliberate look at whatever was revealed inside their panties after they finished. It may sound like a teenage male's fantasy to be so casually treated to these sights and sounds by older women but, in reality, I was more a trusted member of the sorority than a guy at a lurid peepshow.

I stopped wearing my boxers after the first day and enjoyed the feel of panties around my loins thereafter. Either Mom or my sisters casually left their panties on the floor of my room as a signal that I was free to wear them. Many times, the panties they left had been worn. The scent left from their use heightened my sense of arousal but also made me feel softer and more feminine, too. Under my jeans or shorts, the panties were hidden from view and the fact I wore them with pleasure was a truth known only to me, my Mom and my sisters. I didn't stop using my stock of T-shirts until Mom spread one of her soft, silk blouses on my bed. Knowing that Mom had deliberately lent me a blouse to wear during the day moved the bar a notch higher.

Over the following weeks, my sisters and I gradually became very comfortable around each other in various stages of dress - or undress. They were never totally nude where I might see them, but they became so casual about their bodies that the difference wasn't very important. My sisters saw me changing often enough that I knew they were deliberately trying to see me naked, especially Sally, but none of us acted as if that were anything odd. Closed doors became a thing of the past during showers or to change clothes in a bedroom. Even the door to Mom's room was left open - at least a little - more often than not. About the only time any of us found the entry blocked by a closed door was when someone was using the toilet and gave us the courtesy of not sniffing the results until the deodorizer had taken effect.

My sisters casually showed off their bodies, allowing me a view of their buns when drying off after a shower, or of their boobs concealed under very skimpy tops or nearly transparent shirts. Less frequently, I would glance through their open bedroom door and see one or both wearing just a bra and panties while brushing their hair or applying makeup.

Like I said, they were never naked - not totally - but I certainly saw a glimpse of Sally's smooth pussy from time to time as she stepped out of the shower. Maggie's furry crotch was never hidden much, given her preference for extremely thin panties and very short skirts. Mom was more discrete and never gave me an unobstructed view of the area between her thighs nor did she allow me to see her breasts uncovered, but I got plenty of good looks at her panties and at her boobs under a T-shirt. The difference between naked and not wasn't really significant. In fact, it seemed to underscore Mom's point that we be less focused on sexual teasing and more comfortable about our bodies.

At the end of the school break, I heard the shower running but the door was partly close, contrary to the norm. Needing to pee, I quietly crossed to the toilet to do my business, letting the sound of the shower cover the noise of my stream. When the shower stopped, I didn't give it a thought until the curtain snapped wide open and I was staring at Mom wringing out her hair, totally naked. My jaw dropped open as I stared at her, forgetting what she could see as I stood before the john.

Mom's short intake of breath told me she was as surprised as I at this turn of events but she took her time pulling the curtain back to recover her modesty. Until the curtain covered her again, Mom glared at me, a look of faint disgust on her face, while I looked back at her, red-faced. I'd been stroking my peter to get the last drops to fall into the toilet, daydreaming, when she caught me 'red-handed'.

Through the opaque curtain that once more blocked my view, Mom loudly proclaimed, "Jamie, a lady does NOT stand like a vulgar tart to urinate." At that moment I vividly recalled the time I had experienced a lesser embarrassment when Maggie saw me in similar circumstances. After that, I made it a point to be lady-like and sat down to pee, just like any other girl.

When Maggie and Sally returned to school, I continued to act the same way and Mom became less careful about protecting her own modesty with regard to casual nudity around the house. As I mentioned, Mom had kept her private parts modestly covered, despite wearing just panties and a t-shirt around the house. She never wore anything that would give me a really good view of her feminine charms as long as my sisters were home, that is. Once the girls were gone, however, it seemed like she dropped the pretense of hiding herself from my eyes. Granted, she never acted the way my sisters had, by flaunting herself after a shower but I did get more glimpses of her bare bottom and once saw her breasts while she stood facing her mirror doing a self-exam.

In the course of the next several semesters, Maggie and Sally spent less and less time at home as they neared the end of their college careers. Although Mom and I saw them infrequently, we nevertheless retained the casual attitude toward clothes and nudity whenever we were together. I did notice that Mom became more prudish when my sisters were home than when they were absent but thought no more about it.

As the end of high school approached I felt myself maturing. Outside the house, I was Jim and all male despite my diminutive, unisex stature and lack of body hair. My experiences at home had the side effect of making me comfortable around girls (unlike most of my male acquaintances). I could relate easily to my female classmates, letting my personality shine which, in turn, made me popular with them. The combination gave me an angle to hold my own with the guys when they bantered about sex, football, sex, beer, sex and dating.

At home, I reverted to being Jamie and reveled in wearing frilly silk PJ's, sexy panties and, on a few special occasions, a slip and dress. Outside the house, Jim was still a man; still interested in dating; and, yearning to have sex with a woman. But once behind the closed front door, I became Jamie, Mom's youngest daughter.

Maggie and Sally graduated, and, true to Mom's predictions, stopped living at home in favor of apartments closer to their new jobs. Meanwhile, I was completing my education, discovering a talent for IT and computer networks that led directly to a great job with plenty of travel and other perks. I still lived with Mom, at least when I wasn't traveling. Unfortunately, it also made true the fact that I literally had no friends or acquaintances in the immediate area. The crowd that had been part of my high school experience had mostly moved away or gotten hitched and were busy raising families. This peculiar combination of events set up the next round of my life which I would never have anticipated or predicted.

During all of my college years, I wore panties whenever I could under my regular clothes. When I came home over breaks, Mom made sure I still knew how to behave like a young lady, sometimes abruptly walking into the bathroom while I was on the toilet or checking to see if I was wearing a camisole ("for your modesty") under certain lacy blouses. She became very insistent in teaching me about make-up and about coordinating clothes with accessories, insisting that I tag along when she shopped.

I quickly got over my utter embarrassment at being in the lingerie section with her when she began to hold panties and bras against my chest or crotch to "size" them, teasing me about the feel of lace or silk against my skin. Soon, I began to enjoy it, secretly wishing I could accompany her into the dressing stalls to try on new clothes together. Alas, I was still Jim to the world outside the house and that made entering the inner sanctum of the women's section impossible. It didn't stop Mom from joking about it and telling me, "Someday, Jamie, someday..." in a quiet whisper when she saw my curiosity and sexual arousal peaking.

There were times when Mom let the curtain on a few stalls swing open while she tried on clothes, giving me a guilty view of her in panties and bra while changing dresses or even a flash of breast when she 'accidentally' dropped the top of a bikini she had tried on. Whenever my sisters visited they joined in too, letting bits of breast or pussy flash into view as they asked my opinion of an outfit or set of lingerie while carelessly leaning out of the changing booth. I loved the game and tried to persuade them to let me watch them change into the new outfits at home for a 'fashion show' but Mom and the girls just laughed at those suggestions - but they did continue to tease me - and flash me! - whenever we shopped.


"Jamie! What on earth...?" Mom's voice rang out.

Like the incident that started it all, I'd gotten careless. Mom noticed I had begun taking her used panties from the hamper instead of wearing the ones in my drawer. I guess she was either curious or furious and so caught me sniffing a rather pungent pair I'd taken the day before.

Ashamed, I hung my head as she came and sat on the bed beside me. I felt her hand gently stroking my arm and let her take the damp, soiled underwear from my fist. To my complete surprise, Mom wrapped the garment around my stiff peter and began to slowly pump her hand along the rigid shaft.


"Hush, darling. I've known you'd develop these sorts of male urges sooner or later," she said. "You can't have a dick and a normal sex drive and not want to feel it inside a woman, can you?"

To say I was in shock would be the understatement of the century! Here was my mother giving me a slow, sensual hand job while discussing my 'normal' sexual appetite! But the soft warmth of her panties around my hard cock was the focus of my thoughts, not the incestuous nature of the situation.

"Who do you dream about when you stroke your peter?" she asked.

"Uhm... nobody, really, I guess... uhm..."

"Seriously, who do imagine wore those panties before you sniff them," she whispered. "Who do you picture in your mind while you stroke yourself?" she persisted.

"Uhm... I can't... I shouldn't... I uhm..."

"Tell me, baby. It's okay to tell me who you dream of. Who excites you when you do this to yourself?" she pressed.

"You," I gasped out as the ministrations she was making on my hard cock lifted my excitement to a new and unexplored level. "I think about you."

Mom looked down into my eyes and brushed the hair from my forehead. Her hands moved a bit faster up and down on my member and suddenly, she leaned over and kissed me. Softly. Full on the lips.

I smelled her perfume and the press of her breast into my upper arm as her lips touched mine. I heard her release her breath in an almost inaudible moan and felt the tip of her tongue slide across my mouth when my eyes flew open in fright.

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