A New Perspective Ch. 01

Chapter 1

Nothing. I came up with absolutely nothing. Leslie wasn't having much luck either. However, the party was still two weeks out.

We had purged old clothing that was either unwanted or no longer wearable a while back. All that was left were things that felt too nice to get rid of, but were dated, or no longer quite fit. We kept those because 'I'll be able to wear this again if I just lose a few!' Still working on that.

I could hear Leslie rummaging through the leftovers, accompanied by a chuckle here and there from the buried memories now excavated.

Was it sentimentality or just an aversion to getting rid of something perfectly good I wondered as I continued looking through some things I had previously loved but was never again going to wear. Leslie either.

I noted that I needed to make another trip to Goodwill. They're always happy to have the donations.

"Do you suppose they'd notice if I didn't come to the party?"

"Chris, it's a couples-only party. Anyway, it'll be fun!"

I continued my rummaging through the basement. "Where are bell-bottom pants when you need them?", I mumbled to myself.

Truth be told, I don't really like Halloween. Sure, Leslie and I love seeing kids dressed up in their costumes and we get a kick out of them coming to the door for candy. But, we don't get the obsession with the macabre, the celebration of gore. Not our thing.

I thought we should head out of town to enjoy Halloween to ourselves. Leslie talked me into staying to see the trick-or-treaters. And then Kris and Mark sent us an invitation.

I don't get many opportunities to express a part of myself. Leslie discovered my kink early on in our relationship and tolerates it fairly well, understanding some of my desires. But, she doesn't embrace or encourage this side of me.

The question 'why this kink?' is a good one and something I have pondered for a very long time though I know that I am nowhere near alone in this fetish. Some wear for the taboo, some to express a feminine side, and some for comfort. All three are true for me. I don't wear them all the time, but wish I could.

Within limits, I like my panties feminine and flirty. Comfort is a must so they should also fit. Importantly, they must be something a woman would find appealing. Panties obviously made for men hold zero appeal. Worse and particularly unappealing to me is the outrageously "sissified" look with rows of ruffles. To each their own, but for me, if a woman wouldn't realistically wear it, neither will I.

In any case, I've picked up many pairs over the years and have some favorites. A camisole and matching tap pant was fun for a short while. But, Leslie was clearly uncomfortable - so that was that.

I'd purged my collection a couple of times, embarrassed by this desire with an internal "what the fuck is wrong with me" running on autoplay, only to start the process again. So many panties I wish I could have back.

Oddly, much of the appeal is that it's taboo - the "what if someone found out" element. While I have no desire to be humiliated I will admit that buying panties at a store is both embarrassing and exciting. Have I fooled the sales clerk into believing I'm the good husband who happily picks up a few things for my wife's convenience? Sure.

Despite my confusion over my fetish and desires, I am generally comfortable in my own skin. I adore my wife as she does me, am attracted to women exclusively, and so consider myself heterosexual.

My favorite activity is making oral love to her. Indeed, it would be fair to say I have an oral fixation in that regard. The sight of her, her fragrance and taste, and caressing her with my lips and tongue are intoxicating. Strange as it may seem, I almost prefer giving to receiving. Almost.

Unfortunately, age and work balance challenges have diminished the frequency of what was once a robust sex life for both of us. I still have a healthy desire, but less of an outlet. At the same time, I also had a growing curiosity.

Is this curiosity related to my fetish? I would be hard-pressed to fully convince anyone that there is zero correlation between a desire to try sucking cock and wearing women's panties - both more traditionally feminine elements in a heterosexual relationship. I have denied that correlation for years, but I am not sure it was plausible to do so.

It's odd. I don't find men remotely attractive. I've never seen a picture of a man and thought him "hot" even when I can recognize him as handsome. I have zero attraction to men and am uncomfortable with the thought of being physically intimate with a man. However, the idea of an isolated cock, with no physique or face to confuse the image, is another thing.

Cocks are, of course, as wonderfully varied as the people to whom they're attached though I've seen enough pictures to know that most are just not that appealing to me. But I've also seen some pictures that have made me salivate at the thought, an odd response since I've never sampled one.

I've thought about it a fair amount. I'm attracted to cock much like my own. Medium sized, balanced proportions, circumcised, well-trimmed, and smooth.

Unfortunately, I'm not one of the estimated one percent of guys lucky enough to be able to fellate themselves. I've certainly tried but couldn't close the two inch gap. So close. And, so frustrating.

I've read stories about "glory holes" in places like adult bookstore video booths to facilitate anonymous oral sex. It was clear from these stories that nearly all of the givers were men. Men who claimed to be married and heterosexual.

It also seemed that there were more men wanting to give than receive. Clearly, they were seeking an experience they couldn't otherwise have. While I love being on the receiving end, it seemed I am far from being the only one curious about giving.

There is a certain appeal in the anonymous nature of a glory hole. There's no face or body. You don't have to worry about cuddling, kissing, or even small talk, all of which are unappealing to me. It's just an isolated cock that can be accepted or rejected. Everybody is there for the same thing with little confusion over purpose. There's no guessing or mystery as to what is wanted, all packaged with little likelihood of judgment or rejection. For those interested in sucking a cock without complication, it's a somewhat logical arrangement. But not one without serious risks.

I can only imagine the seedy environment of such a place, with the sticky floor from who knows how many previous encounters. Further, I can also imagine that many visitors bring a multitude of health risks and diseases to be shared. Even without these risks, I couldn't imagine going for I am happily married. No thanks.

Like so many men without a realistic way to move from curious to experienced, I figured I would always just have to wonder.

The Halloween party was to be for adult couples only and costumes were required for all. While we haven't been to one before, the invitation was from new friends and a bit of harmless fun seemed assured.

We were running out of time and no suitable costumes from our old clothes were presenting themselves. We talked about togas made from bedsheets but eventually decided to look for something to purchase.

Sadly, the Velma and Daphne kits were all gone. I looked at a Wonder Woman costume, but it seemed too risky. I considered a cheerleader outfit but settled on a sexy Oktoberfest beer maiden costume. Feminine and fun, and certainly pushing the envelope, but I thought I could pull it off.

It was a nice quality costume which included a colorful and authentic looking German dirndl dress that fell mid-thigh, with delicate white lace trim to accent, a corset to give me some curves and cleavage, and a white barmaid blouse, with off-the-shoulder sleeves. I went all in with a petticoat to give some "flounce" to my skirt, a wig with long braided pigtails, and the requisite garter to hold my white stockings with bows on them mid-thigh, coming in just below the hem of my skirt.

Underneath, I was able to wear some of my favorite panties - I donned a polka dot string bikini, just to be scandalous. And why not? Panties are private, it was Halloween - time to live a little bit of my other side!

Though I didn't expect people to look at me and wonder about my gender, I wanted to be both attractive and realistically dressed in the costume, not present myself as some outrageous caricature of femininity.

My wife wasn't thrilled, but she took it in stride and understood the undercurrents at play. She even helped me with some makeup. Not too much - just enough for fun. A few freckles on my cheeks, some light lipstick, etc. I wasn't passable, but I certainly presented as more feminine than masculine when done, and thought I looked pretty in the mirror, which was important to me. Though I don't really know why, I liked being 'pretty.'

For her part, my wife went in lederhosen so we could play off the role reversal.

We arrived at the party around 8:00 - after most trick-or-treaters were home sorting through their candy haul. We helped ourselves to some drinks and started to mingle. Over time, we became separated as we each chatted with mostly new acquaintances.

I enjoyed the considerable attention my costume garnered helped by the fact that I didn't know the vast majority of people there. More than a few women (and even a few well-lubricated men) saw it as an opportunity to grab my ass, which I didn't mind too much as this was done in Halloween fun though I recognized how wrong it is that women have to deal with men feeling them up for their perverse pleasure.

I was in the kitchen getting some snacks when Charlene, a close friend of ours, pulled me aside and said "oh my god, I love your costume, Chris!"

She looked me up and down several times, at my makeup, the intricate details of my costume, and noted "it's perfect and, well, you look great! I mean, really great!"

Pulling me aside and lowering her voice just for me, she asked, "panties?", with a hopeful smile. I tilted my head in confusion at the question so she asked more directly, "are you wearing panties? Please tell me you're wearing panties!"

As Charlene is a good and close friend, all I could honestly do was smile sheepishly and nod yes.

"Oh my god, that's so hot! I thought so!", she squealed.

While I was enjoying her attention, I wondered what she meant with the comment 'I thought so'. Charlene then lifted my skirt to peek at my polka dots. This, of course, elicited an even louder squeal of delight from her, and a fair amount of embarrassment from me - somewhat moderated by the buzz from a couple of glasses of wine already downed. Thank god I wasn't sporting an erection at the time! And, thank god my panties fit well!

We were in the kitchen area filled with a lot of people but she was quick and the others were all mingling so I don't think anyone else saw the show.

Charlene, while clearly enjoying the effects of her wine, sobered up enough to confess, "Sorry about that, Chris. I just got carried away." She then leaned in again and added "but they really do look good on you!", with some conviction in her voice.

"Thanks", I replied with a smile. "It's okay. All in good fun", and kissing her on her cheek, started my exit with "I'm going to get another glass of wine. Catch you later?"

I wanted to escape and explore the house as it was unusually large, one of those beautiful mansions built shortly after the turn of the century. This home was built for entertaining large crowds.

I love old houses and this particular house was special. We were relatively new friends with the hosts and had never been over before so this was a great opportunity for me to look around this craftsman-era home. Everywhere I looked, the house was simply stunning.

I was finishing my exploration of the main floor when I saw a couple of people head down the stairs to the lower level and decided to follow. Even the stairwell to the lower level was finished in beautiful wainscoting. Not surprisingly, the elegance stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Old homes rarely had finished basements. In this case, I could see the basement appeared partially finished though the massive stone foundation was visible as I descended the steps. It was clear that some rooms had been built around the supporting beams and jacks. One hundred years ago, it would have been a dark and cool place perfect for storing wine and things. Today, it offered that, but also some additional finished living space.

I didn't see many people but passed a large and beautifully finished wine cellar with a collection on display that would have been fitting for any restaurant. Continuing on my way, I saw a sign taped to the wall that said "Dark Room Rules" and began to read.

"Welcome to the dark room - only for the adventurous and curious".

Rules

1) No lights whatsoever. It is dark in there on purpose so you cannot see and cannot be seen. Do not bring your phone in there or anything that shines a light - no matter how dim.

2) Please respect the absolute privacy of those in the room while also enjoying the privacy granted to you.

3) The room is rectangular with two doors opposite each other. It is easy to navigate if you stay along a wall. You will eventually find your way back to a door.

4) Move away from the wall when you want to engage with someone so that others navigating the wall will not bump into you.

5) Be quiet - whispers only. While you cannot see, you will need your ears to listen. And, you may hear some very interesting sounds indeed!

6) Respect others - if you encounter someone - ask permission before proceeding. No means no!

7) Please be aware that some sexual activities may be occurring in this room. If that is not something you're interested in - please go back upstairs and enjoy the party or leave if you prefer.

8) For the consenting adults - enjoy!

I was stunned. Though conflicted, and against my better judgement, I quickly slipped in. My eyes were not adapted but given how dark it was in the room, I don't think it would matter much.

I started to slowly feel my way along the wall. It was apparently a large room as it took me a while to get to a corner since I was moving so slowly. It became darker as I moved into the room and away from the door. Even though my eyes started to adapt, I still couldn't see anything. As it was very quiet, I focused on listening.

I could make out sounds somewhere in the room. Though I couldn't confidently identify the sound, it was easy enough to imagine what it might be, given the purpose of the room.

I continued slowly feeling my way along this new wall and bumped into someone. Feeling an arm first, I followed it up to their chest, noting that this person was male. I hesitated a bit, but began to trace downward to below his belt and could feel his cock through his pants. I wasn't surprised that he was partially aroused. Finding his zipper which I began to lower, I very quietly whispered "may I?"

He didn't initially respond, but I took his silence as consent. He in turn followed the curve of my back down to feel my skirt and grab my ass. He pulled the skirt up to gain access to my panties. Moving his other hand to the front, he pulled it back quickly. He clearly wasn't expecting to encounter my now erect cock and hissed, "I'm not gay!"

In the dark, he hadn't known.

"Neither am I", I whispered back. "This is new to me, but something I want to try", I continued.

After a few moments, "ok," I heard him whisper back. He pulled my arm to move us away from the wall and into the room and then pushed down on my shoulders to arrange me in a kneeling position in front of him.

On my knees, I fumbled undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants which I then pulled down a bit.

I couldn't see it, but I could sense it there in front of me. Incredibly nervous as this was completely new territory for me, I was nevertheless in a hurry out of multiple fears. I was afraid I might back out, that he might change his mind, or that the lights might come on and I would be found on my knees in such a compromising position.

But I was also in a hurry because I wanted to start before he was fully hard so that I might experience the growing arousal, girth, and length of the cock.

The near-absolute dark provided the necessary cloak of privacy to take him into my mouth - my first taste of cock.

With my lips gliding slowly along the shaft, I noted the distinct differences between the soft outer skin acting as a sleeve sliding smoothly over the engorged core, the softer spongy head, and the prominent ridge of the crown. I enjoyed the sensation of the shaft stiffening and growing between my lips as it reached its full potential.

Now fully hard, upright and awake, the cock presented itself to me to be pleasured so I took him deep and slowly withdrew. I held the shaft with one hand to steady and orient it, my other hand cradled the balls gently.

I had imagined this moment. Leslie has a realistic dildo, pleasantly large in length and girth. I practiced sucking it many times wishing it to be the real thing.

I have a strong gag reflex which made itself apparent during my practice sessions but I willed my way to overcome it because I wanted to experience what it was like to deep-throat a cock. Practice does make perfect and I was eventually able to fully take down all seven inches. Of course, I never showed Leslie my ability to do so as I figured she would not share in the joy of my accomplishment.

I would guess this cock was about six inches and of medium thickness - a little less length and girth than the dildo so I was able to push through and take all of the cock into my mouth and throat, holding it there briefly. As with the dildo, the cock blocked my airway so I wasn't able to breathe other than making raspy noises. I began to audibly gag and withdrew with a cough to recover. I started to hear soft giggles from somewhere in the room. Others now knew what salacious activity was occurring and I imagine I had their rapt attention from here.

I plunged again to the base, gagging and choking less this time as I became more accustomed to accommodating the invasion to my throat.

To be candid, it doesn't feel good to take a cock so deep into your throat, but it is strangely satisfying.

Returning to bobbing more slowly, I was able to enjoy a sensory overload, the taste, touch, and sound all magnified by my lack of sight.

The cock was wet with my saliva but I could now taste the pre-ejaculate beginning to flow. I have tasted my own many times. It is smooth, slippery, and tasty. I like to rub the nectar on my wife's breasts as we play. I can't help but devour them when they're so glazed.

I could feel his arousal growing as he began gently thrusting. I know how hard it is to not thrust when your cock is being stimulated. It becomes an involuntary reaction to push deeper so that all of you is enveloped. His slow thrusting was soon accompanied by his hand on my head to help him drive deeper still. I adjusted my angle to better receive it and we found our rhythm to the fellation.

After a few short minutes, I could sense his breathing becoming more labored and his thrusts more urgent.

He found my pigtails and used them like reigns to sordidly pull me onto his cock to bury it fully in my throat causing me to gag and choke. While I understood his need, I didn't like my throat being abused for his wanton pleasure so I pushed back to avoid choking too much. Nevertheless, the sounds of our activity became rhythmic and were likely loud enough to tell our invisible audience that his climax was building quickly.

I could feel the tension in his body growing and knew he was close. I resisted as he again pulled my pigtails hard to try to bury himself as deeply as possible. Then, for a moment everything stopped. He gasped audibly, and released.