We weren’t exactly the brightest of kids, sort of day dreamy and idealist, pot head alcoholics is what we became. Every day it was smoke weed, and cigarettes, rebel and anarchy, punk rock and girls; standard fourteen year old mentality. However, my thong fetish was discovered. The girl who sat in front of my during my eighth grade biology class would lean way forward and it was there that I discovered the thong. Seeing a huge grey suede sissy style satin g-string whale tail; it was glorious. After that I started noticing a lot of girls at my school wore them and I loved seeing the whale tails, the visible thong lines, I became absolutely obsessed with the thong and g-string and ever other panty after that had become boring; I was in heaven.
Throughout middle school and high school I had girlfriends, and I would somehow or another find my way into their dresses and thongs, one girlfriend even complained because I looked better in a particular dress than she did. I can’t help if I have, what I guess is called a swimmer’s body; very curvy. But my fetish ebbed and flowed and became lost and found again.
It wasn’t until I became an adult that it started up again. My sister was moving around to another apartment and she was throwing away a bunch of her old thongs. Well, I couldn’t just let those go to waste so I volunteered to throw them away, and I swiped the whole lot. There were all sorts of colors and styles. It was a treasure trove of blues, pinks, reds, lace, cotton, strings and mesh.
That lasted for some time, but then I had a moment of guilt and shame, not knowing what was going on within me and I proceeded to cut up all the thongs and through them discreetly away, neatly stashing the fetish away for about a year until it surfaced again and I bought my own pair, pretending it was for my girlfriend. Man was I nervous. But I went through with it. I still have it today and it’s my favorite thong I have. I would periodically steal my sisters’ thongs and panties, but I have my own stash now.
I’ve since become sober and have accepted the fact that I am a cross-dresser, I don’t want to be one full time but I enjoy in my own time being as I am. I no longer feel guilt and shame about it, though I’m not ballsy enough to walk out in public dressed as such without some occasion allowing it like Halloween or a convention or something.
I have a lot of stories that I plan on writing; some true, some fantasy, some fictional completely. I’d love to tell them if you’ll let me. I know this hasn’t been exactly a sex story, but what you read is one hundred percent true within this text, names have been changed but the events are all real. Let me know what you like and I will add my own as we go along. I’d love to write for you, and with you. I’m hoping to express a fantasy I have next involving my cross-dressing, panty peeking, and my oldest sister Tammy.
Wish me luck! Thanks!
--Joni Alabaster
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