FIRST ENCOUNTERS

GRABBING THE RING!

JIM'S WONDERFUL SUMMER OF 1960

I have been a visitor to your site for some time. It is a always a delightful visit and I usually stop in several times a week. I’m now 51 but recall some very wonderful experiences of many years ago when I was first introduced to the delights and wonders of slips and petticoats. I have fortunately never recovered.

Unlike many of your visitors and contributors I am not a cross dresser. However I would like to relate my story. I have debated telling it for many months but decided it is now or never.

When I was in the first grade an older friend (third grade boy) invited me to see something in his basement. We went there and he showed me his mother’s full slip (it was in the laundry basket). I was not sure what it was until he explained it was underclothes. It really seemed exciting and risqué. As I recall it was white and rather lacy with a satin ribbon through the lacy hem. Anyhow we had me feel it. It was nylon slip pretty and felt heavenly. I suppose the fact that his mother was, in my six-year-old mind very pretty had a lot to do with the thrill I felt.

We took turns trying it on. First, we tried it on over our clothes then on a dare with nothing else on. Of course it was large for us but it gave me an incredible feeling. Needless to say we ended up spending as much time in his basement as we could. I no longer remember everything but she had red, several white, navy blue, pink, light blue and yellow full slips. She had two multi-layered petticoats. These were soft and had ribbons and lace. One was white and the other multi-colored. This went on for just over a year and then we moved. I still know him but since after I moved we never talked about it again.

This experience planted a lifelong love of slips, petticoats and all types of women’s lovely lingerie. I have an older sister (5 years older). Of course, I began to check out the laundry basket at home. The slips my mother and sister had were not as pretty nor as varied as those of my friend’s mother, they both had some lovely petticoats. The slips were all nylon and pretty by today's standards. My delight ended up with me wearing these things as often as I could and when home alone I dressed to the "nines" and pranced around the house in seventh heaven.

I made it a point to look at as many slips and petticoats (in those days petticoats were common, especially for high school and younger girls, although many adult women wore them as well. Looking at all the slips in the catalogues was a delight and I wished my mother or sister would buy more of them. Back then the catalogues had dozens of pages of slips and full sections for younger women and girls. That page were especially erotic to me, as there were so many full petticoats, in so many colors and with so many different combinations of lace, ribbons, satin and layers of ruffles.

Well to the heart of my greatest adventure ever, it happened when I was in the sixth grade. As I said I loved looking at the girls that dressed in pretty dresses and skirts, especially the ones who wore full ones with petticoats. There was this one particular girl that lived on the hill above our house. She was a senior in highschool. Her parents were well to do - they had a swimming pool (in those days that was really something). She was an only child and her name was Deborah (not Debbie). I thought she was beautiful and was particularly taken with the clothes she wore. Back then all the girls wore dress all the time. Deborah always wore full dresses and skirts and almost always you could see the lace and ribbon of the hems of her petticoats. You could with most girls.

She always had a smile and was always friendly to me. She knew my name and always said hi and often asked me how I was doing. To me she was a woman. In any event I went to a grade school about 8 blocks from home and always walked home from school. Deborah of course went to the high school and took the bus home. It dropped her off about four blocks from her house, two block closer than mine. I make it a point, as often as I could, to be walking past the high school bus stop when it dropped Deborah off. Actually, it was not just Deborah that was fun to watch but the other girls as well. However, the only one that every said anything to me was Deborah.

I dreamed of sharing my love of slips and petticoats with her. It took such hold that I did not know what to do and was constantly in a state of anxiety, particularly when around her.

Usually she walked with two other girls for a block then alone the rest of her way home. This would give me three blocks to walk with her. Looking back I’m sure she realized I had a crush on her (I did … in addition to my fixation with her lovely clothing). I’ve often been thankful she did not have a boyfriend that took up her time or lived close to her, it gave me the opportunity to be with her. Anyway it was easy to talk with her because she kind of carried the conversation. I was shy of girls in the boy-girlfriend way but since she was older it made it easier. However, the desire I had to touch and wear her clothes made being with her awkward.

I have to say I was not a sissy type guy then or now. I played soccer, basketball and baseball and did well. In fact, love of girls’ lingerie was totally out of character with my "public persona". Anyway on the fateful day while I was walking with her she asked me if I was "afraid of her or nervous being around her". Of course I said no. She then asked me if I liked her. I told her I thought she was really pretty and nice. I know that she was flattered. She asked me what I liked most about her and I just blurted out, "I think your clothes are beautiful". Her manner and pleasant way made this easy to say and she did not recoil as if I was some kind of weirdo.

Next she asked me what I liked most about her clothes. Without thinking I told her I loved her pretty slips. It just popped out. As soon as I said it I was terrified. I figured that was it and she would either shriek or never want to see me again. Instead she asked me if I would like to come to her house and have a glass of milk. I was dumbstruck and must have barley been able to say, yes. We had about another block and a half to her house and she changed the subject and asked me something about my classes. I figured that was that and decided to totally avoid looking at or bringing up her clothes again. I was afraid she would think I was a pervert.

No one was home when we arrived. We went into the kitchen and she had me sit at the kitchen table and got us both a glass of milk. While she was doing this we talked about baseball, the season had just started (it was April) and loved baseball, I played catcher. After getting the glasses of milk and some cookies she sat down at the head of the table, I was on the chair on the side (there were only four chairs around the table). Then she changed the topic of conversation – a change that changed my life forever.

Deborah asked me if I wanted to touch her petticoat. I almost spilled my milk. She took my hand and told me to relax and not be afraid and again asked me if I would like to touch here petticoat. I could not speak and am sure she knew exactly what I wanted to do. She let go of my hand and lifted the hem of her dress and pulled it to her waist. I’ll never forget the sight. Here was a ‘woman’, one of the nicest and prettiest I had ever known and she was showing me her petticoat. It was white with pink satin at each hem, little pink bows and the prettiest lace imaginable. I just looked. Deborah then took my hand and placed it on the petticoat at her thigh. I had an orgasm and was totally embarrassed. It didn’t take her long to notice the wet spot.

She stood up and told me to follow her. I was in shock but also dismayed as her dress fell down and covered her beautiful petticoat. I did not know what to expect. I’m sure I was not even thinking. She led me to the bathroom and told me I could clean up and not to worry -–she said it was natural and she was flattered.

I cleaned up thinking what an idiot I had been and figured I’d leave, as soon as possible and hoped she would never tell anyone. When I came out she told me to come with her and we went into her bedroom. It was large compared to what I was used to seeing. She had a canopy bed and lacy curtains and it was very feminine.

She told me to sit on the bed then took off her dress. It was breathtaking. I was speechless and am sure my tongue was hanging out and my eyes were not far behind. She turned and told me she wanted me to enjoy looking. Believe me I did. She sat next to me and asked me if there was anything else I would like. By this time I was sure I was not alive and decided to just let it all out. I told her I would like to see and feel her slips and petticoats. I to see anything and everything she would show me. She stood and pulled up her petticoat exposing the hem of the slip she was wearing. The petticoat was just a half-slip petticoat and the top of the slip she had on had pretty lace matching the hem of the slip. In those days there were no such thing as pantyhose and the girls wore panty girdles and stockings. I did not see either that day.

After a short time of this she had me come over to her closet and showed me four petticoats and two petticoat slips (these ended up being my favorites). Each was prettier than the next. I also looked at and touched many of her dresses and skirts. All I wanted to do was bury myself in them. However, I was wondering what would happen if anyone found out I know that would be the "end" and I would be the laughing stock of the neighborhood and school.

Then came the question that really did it… she asked if I wanted to put any of them on. I just said, YES. That was the beginning of the most wonderful four and a half months of my life. At least twice a week and often more often I was over at her house and we dressed up together. We never did anything sexual. We just enjoyed dressing up together. She never got into having me put on makeup or anything … it was just dressing up in her clothes… they almost all fit. She really liked me to put on dresses or skirts and blouses and then taunted me to lift the hem and "show off" my pretty lingerie. I have to say that to this day I can still vividly hearing her saying, "come on now and show me you pretty petticoats". It is the most wonderful thing I have ever heard.

I wore everything in her wardrobe, including her shoes (they were tight but did fit). I remember how she would giggle as I first learned to walk in the heels. It was fun and we both did a lot of laughing. My favorite things were the petticoat slips. In fact that is really what encouraged me to write. The recent color picture of the three young girls in their petticoat slips reminded me so much of them, I just found I had to finally tell my story.

One of the things we often did was to dance with each other when we were both dressed up. Usually we had the whole house to ourselves. We never did anything when anyone else was home but stuck to her room when she was not sure when her parents were going to be getting home. We often spent time "socializing" in the living room and danced in the basement rec room.

We did a lot of "swing" dancing. It was fantastic. I could really feel the sway of the petticoats against my legs. I always put on a panty girdle and stockings. The Stockings enhanced the wonderful feeling. Deborah had several varieties of "girdles". In those days, or at least she did not have any of the garters that are around today, but I loved putting them on. I recall she often helped me fasten the stockings. As I have thought back this was the closest we got to touching in an intimate way.

We also did some waltzing… that caused me my greatest "problem". Twice I ended up soiling a pair of her panties. I know now that this intrigued and flattered her, even though it greatly embarrassed me. The problem was the wonderful feel of the petticoats pressed and moving against my body while we moved and swayed together. The fact that she seemed to really enjoy my being dressed up added immensely to the pleasure of it all.

Generally she had me pick out what I wanted to wear, that is, after she showed me what was appropriate and how to put it on. I wore her panty girdles, panties, stockings and bras – she always stuffed the bra with several pairs of her bobby socks so I had an "appropriate silhouette" and the slips, dresses and bras "looked ladylike and mature". It got to where when I came over I just went to her room and "dressed". Often we just visited or discussed books while dressed up. She took time to show me how to walk and carry myself, sit, and of course do so properly. But the best times for me were when she had me ‘show off my" petticoats. One thing I did as often as I thought I could get away with it (which was regularly) was to tell her I wanted to wear one of the slips she had on. My motive was to see her in it and to watch her take it off. She almost always accommodated my request. At times she would teasingly refuse.

I never saw her naked but often saw her in panties or panty girdle and bra. Likewise, I was never naked in front of her but we did spend time together in "our" feminine underwear. One time we dressed in baby doll’s complete with panties and got in bed together. That was the closest we ever got to doing anything beyond the joy of dressing up together.

This went on through the summer up until the end of August when she went away to college. When she came home at Thanksgiving we visited for what was really the last time. We did not have an opportunity to "dress-up" unfortunately. During our visit she told me that we could not keep on with our dressing up, which she said she regretted. She actually thanked me for being her "dress up friend" and said she had enjoyed it very much and would fondly remember all her life but keep it our secret. It turned out she had a boyfriend and he was, of course, more important. I often wonder if he is as luck as I was with Deborah.

After that I saw her just a few times. She was always friendly and chatted with me for a minute or two but we never talked about our summer together. I never did ask or learn what motivated her to do what she did or why she befriended me. However, I am most grateful and will remember the experience fondly and longingly for the rest of my life. I have never told anyone including my wife about this experience. Until now it has been Deborah and my special secret. I often wonder if her husband is as lucky as I.

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