Panty Fetish

I’m not sure how to write this post without using a lot of euphemisms, so bear with me.

Recently, I’ve run into a guy who has a panty fetish.

Not THAT kind of panty fetish.

He doesn’t like wearing them (though I’ve come across those who do).

He likes to, ahem, sniff them.

Not a clean pair fresh from the laundry pile, mind you.

He prefers panties that have been worn all day and are slightly, ahem, damp.

He asked me to describe what my panties smell like after a day of work.


I don’t know about you but the only time I sniff my panties is when I’m trying to figure out if that pair on the floor is clean or dirty.

So I said the only thing that came to mind.

They smell sweet and musky.

Well, he just about DIED.

Say it again, he requested.

Sweet and musky.

So now, when I go out on a date with this guy, he is expecting me to hand over to him the panties I am wearing.


I do believe that I am going to wear TWO pairs of panties that day.

One pair for reals, and one pair for him.

He’ll get to keep the outer pair of panties while I can continue to enjoy the comfort of my inner pair of panties.

And both of us go home happy.


It’s a universal dilemma for women, I think.

You can wear granny panties that SUCK YOU IN (they’re called Spanx) and give you a smooth silhouette, or you can wear sexy lingerie which lets all the lumps and bumps show.

If you desire to wear sexy lingerie AND have a SMOOTH silhouette, you encounter a Catch 22.

The desired outcome is impossible to attain because of contradictory rules and conditions.


I have (on occasion) worn my SPANX under my clothes to parties and on dates in order to look sleek and smooth.

Those scary looking girdles really hold you in!

Then, when I’m going to “get busy” I go to the bathroom and CHANGE into my sexy underwear.

Something black and lacy, perhaps?

Or vibrant red and trimmed with velvet?

Of course, I always wonder if my date can tell that something is different.

All of a sudden I have a tummy.

Or my hips have love handles.

What’s up with that, he might think?

No one has ever said anything to me, so I suspect I’ve managed to SLIP IT UNDER THEIR RADAR.

But now I’ve bought an under-the-bust corset to even further the charade that I’m shaped like the perfect hourglass.

I imagine I’ll get totally screwed when it comes to getting naked, however.

No pun intended, but it’s virtually impossible to get out of a corset without help.

But it could work to my advantage seeing as how a woman in nothing but an under-the-bust corset is actually pretty damn sexy.

Think voluptuous breasts and an ample rear end.

I’m quite sure I could get this to work for me.

Story of my life

I am a planner.

All my shit is packed for Burning Man already.

Just add food.

And I plan events IRL.

It’s just what I do.

So when I found out that The Swede was coming to California to go to unSCruz with me, you can be damn sure that I planned the hell out of that weekend.

The food.

The booze.

The bedroom.

I wanted it perfect.

Now as many of you know, I have a “thing” for lingerie.

Every time I sleep with someone new, I get new lingerie.

It’s just a habit I’ve developed over time.

New man = new lingerie.

That accounts for why I have 5 (used to be 7) drawers full of the stuff.

So I bought lingerie for The Swede.

A short little black, strappy number in soft silk.

And then, as is typical for me, I proceeded to get too drunk to figure out how to put it on.

It’s not easy to navigate strappy things in the dark when you’re drunk and a handsome warm man is laying in your bed waiting for you.

So I went to bed naked.

Which is par for the course for me.

Girl attempts to seduce boys with sexy lingerie. Girl gets too drunk to put on sexy lingerie. Girl continues to buy sexy lingerie even though it never gets worn.

Story of my life.

From the mouths of babes

I hoard certain things.



Evening gowns.



I think it’s very odd that I hoard these things because the truth is (other than the costumes), I BARELY use any of it.

I just feel compelled to buy it.

Take lingerie for instance.

I have five drawers FULL of lingerie.

I used to have seven but I downsized.

The other day I bought aqua, lavender, and pink camisoles for an outfit for Burning Man.

You’d think the shopping was finished after I bought those, but you’d be wrong.

I had to buy matching lingerie.


Will anyone ever see my lingerie?

I certainly hope so, but it’s not very likely.

The last opportunity I had to show off lingerie was with the Swede and instead of trying to (drunkenly) get into a teddy held together by delicate little straps and lace, I opted to sleep IN THE NUDE.

My son came into my room as I was buying a push up, pink racerback bra.

He glanced at my computer screen, saw the description of the bra, looked me square in the eye and said. . .

“Do you REALLY need a push up bra, mom? Isn’t that being a bit redundant?”

From the mouths of babes.


Am I Worth 200 Nickels?

lingerieThis is NOT going to be a post lamenting my single status.

As you all know, I very much enjoy being single and playing the field.

No, this is not a post about that.




Do I need to wear a sign around my neck that says date me?

Or maybe it should say something else?

Don’t go there.


Even if there was a man I could wear lingerie for, I doubt he’d appreciate it.

Honestly, I can count on one hand the number of times a man has stopped in the middle of the action to remark on my lingerie.

It’s just something that gets in the way of all that delicious nudity.

On the other hand, if I had a nickel for every time a man paused, shook his head slowly, and remarked on what a nice body I have, I’d be rich.

Well, I’d at least be able to buy myself a beer.

Reunion, kink style

As you all know, I attended my 25th high school reunion a few days ago.

And by and large, I had an EXCELLENT time.

But I left relatively early because. . .

I was invited to attend a lingerie party in San Jose.

Not a lingerie party where women show up, drink wine, eat cheese, and BUY lingerie.


A party where people go IN LINGERIE.

Naturally, I had to bring my lingerie with me so that I could change into it after the reunion – a black eyelash lace teddy and fishnet stockings.

teddyThere I am at my reunion, with a bagful of lingerie feeling awfully naughty.

But that wasn’t all.

Oh no.

You see, I was spending the night with Dante after the party and so I had to bring toys (read: sex toys) with me.

So there I was, sitting at the reunion table, with a bag full of lingerie AND a big HUGE magic wand and cock ring.

Oh my.

If they were giving out prizes, I’d get one for the most likely to shock the daylights out of her classmates.

I was quite the Goody Two Shoes in high school.

Something is right in this world when you show up to your high school reunion with a bagful of lingerie and sex toys.


Tops and bottoms

I am madly and I mean MADLY in love with this Maison Close Rue des Desmoiselles teddy over at Bare Necessities (which I just bought).

teddyI also bought a gorgeous long sleeve, black lace maxi dress.

It’s very Lily Munster, if you catch my drift.

lily-munsterThe dress is (of course) see-through and would look SPECTACULAR over the teddy with a set of gartered stockings.

screen-shot-2016-10-20-at-3-50-05-pmAdd my black, patent leather, platform stilettos and call me a happy woman.

I have a friend.

I like to think of him as a little subby and very eager to please.

He would ABSOLUTELY LOVE this outfit.

In fact, I am quite certain he’d be quaking in his boots if he saw me all dressed up in this.

This is why I have TOO MUCH LINGERIE.

I see something delicious and I JUST HAVE TO HAVE IT.

I wear it once (or never) and then I’m through with it.

But this teddy, I am quite sure would figure heavily in my lingerie rotation.

And I’m just gonna come out and say that I’m not above topping my date in order to have some fun.

Take that any way you want.



michelle1The universe has so aligned itself such that I will have dates Friday, Saturday, AND Monday night – all with different men.

I’d better shave my legs and moisturize my body, is all I have to say on the matter.

But seriously, considering I’ve had no dates in the last three months, this is going to be a SHOCK TO MY SYSTEM.

I’m worried I may be out of practice when it comes to socializing, kissing, and . . .

But perhaps dating is like riding a bike – it’s hard at first but then it gets easier the more you practice.

Needless to say, my lingerie collection is going to get a workout.

I must match my undergarments to my mood and my perception of what my dates would most enjoy.

  • I’m thinking perhaps my red latex undies for Mr. Friday Night. I love how they make me feel so exotic and wicked. I’m sure he’d love peeling them off my body, no doubt.
  • Saturday Night is like an eager-to-please puppy. I know that he’ll be happiest with me wearing black – the color of my naughtiest underthings. Perhaps a black vinyl corset with matching boyshorts. He’d love THAT look!
  • And finally, Mr. Monday. I know very little about Mr. Monday therefore it’s going to be a challenge to find something that he’d like. I might as well just please myself by wearing my favorite outfit – a black lace teddy with garters and thigh high stockings. Totally smashing!

Even if my dates NEVER see my lingerie, at least I get a boost from them and enjoy the secret little thrill of knowing I’m wearing something totally luscious under my clothes.



Slumming it

Sometimes, I’m bad.

Not REALLY bad, just SLIGHTLY bad.

For instance, despite the fact that I have BOXES of lingerie in my bedroom (in addition to 7 drawers full), I just went and bought some new lingerie.

Basically because I had a date that I was getting ready for so I NEEDED that black lace teddy and those thigh high stockings.

teddy stockings

And do you know what I’m doing today?

I’m shopping online for MORE lingerie – Hips & Curves, Wicked Temptations, Yandy Lingerie, and Frederick’s of Hollywood.

Not exactly quality lingerie, but it gets the job done.

For quality lingerie, I go to Journelle, Agent Provocateur, and Adore Me.

But I’m not shopping high end.

No, I’m slumming it.

I may as well go and buy my lingerie from Victoria’s Secret (cheaply made, “disposable” lingerie, IMHO).

I actually bought a crotchless bodystocking from Yandy. . .

Because, you know, when am I EVER going to need a crotchless bodystocking?


To make matters worse, my makeup obsession has reared its ugly head again to the tune of $100 at Ulta.

Not the biggest shopping spree, but still making a dent in my budget.


It really is time to hold a clothing swap at my house and get rid of some of the makeup/lingerie/costumes that I’m holding on to.

Before I turn into a cartoon.

I think I need therapy.





The Eternal Optimist

I have a HUGE lingerie collection.

I literally pick out something new to wear under my outfit every time I go on a new date.

Just in case, you know. . .

Call me crazy (many have) but there’s something about the color, the texture satin/silk, and the joy of wearing a decadent thing secretly under my clothing that boosts my confidence.

When I did my boudoir photoshoot I went HOG WILD buying new lingerie – bras and panties, babydolls, chemises, and corsets.

I think I spent $35 on the Groupon and $1000+ on lingerie.

Well, I have finally run out of room for all of it.

I have slips, and merry widows, and stockings, and garter belts in boxes, stacked in the corner of my room.

Not to mention the 7 drawers I have devoted to my collection.

I finally have to get rid of some things (to make room for all my Burning Man costumes, natch).

The thing is, you can’t really SELL used lingerie (although some of it has never been worn and still has the tags on).

So I guess I’m going to donate to my local charity.

But do charities really want to sell black vinyl corsets? Leather? Latex?  They’re not really in the BDSM market.

And am I really willing to admit that I bought crotchless panties when I itemize my deductions on my tax return?

I think I need a specialty second hand store to handle my loot.

As for my lingerie buying days, I’ve put them behind me.

Sort of.

Until the next exciting date comes along, that is.

I’m either a fool or an optimist and since I’m not willing to admit that I’m a fool. . .