I Love Men to wear my Satin Panties Pt. 01

I was a quiet unassuming lad from the East end of London; I was 22 years old when I left home, it followed a number of pure flukes that all happened back to back, because of this I had had an amazing start to my life in my first job as a City trader.

Unfortunately, things at home with my girlfriend were getting difficult after me losing my job. It was now 4 months since it happened & to be honest, it was all a shock; fortunately, money was not getting tight, we were not desperate, we had an excellent income together, but realistically losing my money did affect our lifestyle, I now really needed to work - it was pride, it was more for me than anything else. I really needed to get back working again.

My girlfriend had been OK initially, she loved me doing all the shit things that we always had to do at weekends like shopping, but it was now becoming obvious that she wanted me to work again as well. Friends in the trading industry and head hunters were promising that I would get a job, but those kind words & promises seemed to just dry up; all the global economies seemed to be stalling, the prospect was not looking good for me to be earning decent money for a few more months, other broking houses were now laying traders off as well. We needed a foreign country to have a disaster or war. Syria was soon going to cause problems in the global markets & war was going to start; the USA & UK were going to take action but when? I had lots of so-called friends who were working, and they all said they were trying to find me work, but as each week went by, the phone calls stopped and it was now me ringing them up asking if they had any work. They were all really nice and friendly on the phone, but I could hear the hesitation in their voice when they started to clearly lie to me, saying they were 'going to make a call to sort it out' or 'the job had just gone and they would call if anything came up'.

My girlfriend seemed to be working even longer hours than usual & her mood was now always unpredictable when she came home, she was now staying longer at work, sometimes not coming home at all, staying with friends rather then get home & get up early to go back to work. It was becoming the norm that I didn't see her for a few days in a row.

I had no choice, I had been out of work so long I now had to sign on at the job centre, the place was full of losers and no hopers; even the woman who I was assigned to didn't seem to care. All she wanted to do was have a break, have a cigarette and stuff her face with cake. She was fat ugly & lazy, everything that fitted the role of a lardy fat arse cow, she hated her job & she hated everyone she dealt with because it was work & she was lazy. The problem is, you have to sign on to keep a record for your CV, it identifies what you were doing during the period off work - companies like to know what you are doing in between jobs, basically you claim benefit & they become your employer. If you can't prove it, you can fail your vetting. In trading, you have to prove where you were & what you were doing, it's to stop you working for an international bad arse baddie who you help earn millions secretly in the money markets, all these changes were put in by Governments & auditors over the years following various cases of insider dealing. I earned too much money to get any benefits but like a criminal I had to sign on so they knew where I was.

So basically, the job market was fucked and so was I - BREXIT had killed the money markets where I worked. We all knew it would mean possible redundancies, but I never thought it would be me. The UK had pulled out of Europe, the people had spoken in the UK & we were going to leave, nobody seemed to know when we were actually leaving & how much we were going to pay to leave but the aim was we were going to leave.

I really loved my job, I had helped run a French money market desk in a broking house in the City of London; it was extremely successful, considering the French were such arseholes. In my opinion when it came to business, most of the French should stick to driving tractors and drinking wine. I never really met anyone in France who really cared much more than when their glass was going to be filled or when the next course of food would be served.

Because of my job on the money desk, it meant I had to speak French - Now this was something that I fell into at school because of the gorgeous French teacher that we had. She was every school boy's wank dream! She always dressed in stockings and high heels, every single day. There was not a day at school when I saw her that I didn't go home and have a fantastic wank thinking about her, thinking about how she would come to her senses & would be my girlfriend one day. It got so bad that by the third year when it got to options, I simply had to take French just so I could see her on a regular basis, she drove me & my cock insane. It got me into wearing stocking's and suspenders like she did, I don't know how it happened & how I decided to do it, but it was magical. I would lay on the bed at home, close my eyes and think of her and stroke my silky stocking legs, imagining that the feeling I was having were her legs next to me. It led to me progressing to wearing my older sister's dresses and her underwear in the afternoon's after school before everyone came home from work. Because I really loved the French teacher, it was like a tribute in her honour, I wanted to impress the French teacher so much with my French, by the 4th year I was doing really well in her class and had got to the point where she would actually speak to me as a person and not a pupil. I really loved my French teacher, she made my cock so hard.

My whole world ended on January 11th when in the 5th year, she announced to the class that she was getting married - the news fucking destroyed me, my heart sank, my life was over. Then six months later, the rumour started that she was pregnant - my life just came to an end. I went home heartbroken - my dreams of having her as my girlfriend & wife was over. How could she do this to me?

I remember I ran upstairs crying like a girl, ran straight in to my sister's room and started to search for some satin underwear and some stockings. I found a silver all-in-one - it felt amazing as I slipped it on. Next were some tan coloured stockings. I went to the wardrobe - my sister had a fantastic choice in clothes - and because I was only a size 12, everything fitted me. I stood in her room like a girl crying. I was going through the dresses with an angry swish of the dresses, pulling them back and forward, I was so angry & heartbroken.

"What's wrong, Steve?"

I spun round and saw my sister standing by the door. Jesus Christ! How bad was this day going to be? I stared at my sister walking towards me.

"It's OK Steve...what's wrong? Don't worry...I know you borrow my dresses! Come on, sit down...tell me what's making you cry?"

Fucking hell, my sister knew about me wearing her clothes! What was I going to say to her? I walked to the bed and just fell into her arms sobbing. My sister stroked my hair and kept reassuring me that 'whatever it was could be resolved'.

I sat up and looked at her.

"You know I wear your clothes, how?"

My sister laughed "Yes Steve...I know you wear my clothes I have done for the last two years! I can always smell you in my dresses! I'm glad we are talking...I was just waiting for you tell me about it! Look...if you're gay, Steve, it won't change anything...you're still my brother!"

I gasped and eased myself away from her. "No, I'm not gay, Zara! I...I...use them to think about a teacher at school! They help me..."

God, how could I tell my sister that I wank in her clothes thinking about a horny French teacher in the school?

My sister smiled. "So, you're not gay! Are you sure, Steve, you wear my underwear?"

I looked straight at her and said "No, it's just, you know...they make me really horny! They feel fantastic and help me think about her!"

The penny seemed to suddenly drop "Oh Steve, that's, emm...Oh OK! I understand now! Emm...maybe you will have to have some of my old dresses from now on? Not being funny but, now you put it like that!"

Jesus, what a fucking day I was having! The teacher I love gets married, now she's pregnant, and now my sister knows I wank in her dresses. Perfect just fucking perfect.

It was really strange now that my secret was out, after that day she started to help me a lot with dresses, and even explained about bras and how they fitted, etc. She told me about makeup and showed me how to paint my toe nails - I loved doing that - it really made me horny. We didn't talk about my dressing all the time, but she just seemed to know when I needed the help and the boost to cheer me up. I took my exams a few months later wearing red satin underwear and black stockings under my jeans and t-shirt - God it helped me relax. When the results came through a few weeks later, I got an A in English and Maths and a B+ in French O levels. My parents were really happy with my results, and I was finally getting over the French Teacher, but the dressing in women's clothes was becoming more intense - I now dressed at every moment that I had. In fact, I couldn't function unless I was dressed in women's clothes, I was now addicted to dressing instead of wanking over the French teacher.

It was a Saturday morning when I went into my sister's room and asked if I could talk to her, she was sitting on her bed reading a book. She sat up, "Of course you can, Steve! What's wrong?"

I explained about how the dressing had got, and how it was taking over my mind. I tried to explain without sounding like a freak, that 'I really loved being dressed as a girl'. I had to point out to her though that I 'was definitely not gay'.

She was amazing; she was 7 years older than me and I really loved her. Nothing seemed to faze her. She had been to college when I was younger and was now back home training to be a trader in the Stock exchange. Even at 24, she was earning really good money, and her clothes were fucking amazing and very expensive. Zara explained that 'in life we sometimes have to go with what our mind tells us is right'. She said that she 'didn't judge anyone, but felt that you should be true to yourself, it was important to try things even if they were risky or kinky, it didn't matter because you should never have regrets'.

I will always remember that day - it was the rocket I needed up my arse to motivate me to sort myself out.

I had always kept a diary, don't know why, but it was like a little voice in my head. I loved just writing about how I felt - everything was in my diary. It explained how I felt, and basically what I did each day in my life. I got my diary out and started to write a list of things I needed to do to change my life. I felt like I was buzzing - all the negative shit seemed to be erased in my life. Zara was right; I needed to change the way I lived my life and that's what I did, over the next 18 months, I got a place at a local college, studied really hard, and took my A levels. I got straight A's. I was now really in a good place, I was finally growing up.

Zara came home from work a few weeks after my A level results had come out and said 'they had a job in the office where she worked, the role was for a trainee'. Before I knew it, she said she had spoken to her boss & he said I could have the job, all of a sudden, I'm a trainee stockbroker earning really good money, considering I was only 19 years old my whole life was changing in an amazing way. The same year that I started my new job Zara announced she was leaving home and moving into a flat with her boyfriend, we didn't know much about this guy, & then she also announces she has a new job with a different broking house - I was devastated that she was going to leave work but really upset that she was leaving home. I understood why, and really loved her, but I knew I would miss her like mad. Before she left home she gave me a massive suitcase. She smiled when she gave it to me and said it was my 'break glass in case of emergencies, she said it was a Pandora's box'. When I opened it up, it was an Aladdin's cave of female's dresses and underwear - it was simply amazing, it had day wear, club wear, leather skirts it was endless.

Shortly after Zara moved out I started to go out with a girl called Penny, in the office. She was 30 years old and very pretty, she was known to be a Bitch to deal with at work. So I still don't know how it happened if I'm honest. We were in a wine bar one night at a leaving party of some old trader that I hardly knew; I found myself drunk on Champagne standing next to Penny. We started to talk about the guy who was leaving. Penny told me she thought he was a fat Gay wanker and we both laughed like childish children. Then she pulled my head close to her face and whispered that 'nothing turned her on more than a guy wearing a pair of her satin panties'. She giggled and let my head free from a tight grip.

"What did you say?" I asked Penny with a straight face.

Penny stared at me with a smile "I said, nothing turns me on more than a guy wearing my panties when I'm fucking him!"

I couldn't believe that Penny, the woman that all the guys fancied, but was shit scared of was telling me her fantasies.

She put her hand down on to my groin "So, do you want to come back to my flat and fuck me?"

My mouth dropped! I looked at Penny - she was really fit, she reminded me of the French teacher, she was over 10 years older than me, I could see she had stockings and high heels on - Jesus I was in heaven. We walked out the wine bar, I just followed her like I was in a trance. I held my hand out for a taxi? The taxi stopped I opened the door & We fell in the chairs and Penny shouted an address to the driver. About 20 minutes later we arrived in a very fancy part of London. We got out and I paid the driver as Penny walked off. I ran after her like a lost puppy.

She laughed out loud "Fucking hell, Steve...you're very eager!" She got a small black fob out from her handbag and some gates opened as we walked towards them. We walked in to a private mews, and the gates closed behind us. She stopped at No 5 on the ground floor, a red Porche was parked on the drive, she got her key out opened the door & we walked in, her flat was amazing! It was like a show house & smelt fresh, Penny took my hand & led me upstairs to the bedroom, she stood in front of me & slowly took her knickers off, then she demanded I put them on. I fell twice on the bed because I was so drunk, took my jacket & shirt off followed by my trousers & socks, took my pants off then put her knickers on - my cock was rock hard. She leaned over the bed & pulled me towards her, she climbed on top of me, grabbed my cock that was sticking through the side of the panties eased her pussy over the top of my cock & pushed herself on top of my cock easing it in to her warm pussy, I started to fuck her wet pussy like a steam engine. Penny worked herself off on my cock as if it was a sex toy, my mind was buzzing with the alcohol I had consumed, I was so high & so drunk I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't realise how shit I was at love making because I was losing my virginity to a sex queen & couldn't even remember it.

I woke in the morning with a massive hangover - the bed was empty. Penny appeared in the doorway "Morning, lover boy!"

I smiled, she walked off. I looked down and saw I was wearing her pink French satin knickers. I took them off got dressed and walked into a large modern kitchen - I could smell the coffee brewing.

"You still wearing them, handsome?" said Penny.

I looked at her and said "No...I think or rather thought you might want them back!"

She looked directly at me and said "That's a shame! I thought you might be wearing them for work!?"

I sat down, we ate toast in silence, Penny sat reading the Financial Times. We drank coffee, then travelled into work together on the Jubilee line.

Penny never spoke on the way to work that day, but before I knew it, I was going to bars with her, getting pissed, going back to her flat on a regular basis and we were fucking like mad dogs 3 or 4 times a week. The strange thing was the dressing at home eased right up; I didn't and hadn't dressed for some time because of work & going out so often. Penny was amazing; she was really successful in her job.

And that was pretty much my life over next two years that we were together, during that time she was promoted twice. She was now earning big money with massive bonuses. My job and salary was a lot slower than her accelerated success, but I was still young, then one day in the office, I walked in and everyone was quiet - two of the secretaries were crying at their desks. It appeared that one of the dealers called Jeff, who worked on the Euro desk, had died in a motor bike accident the night before on his way back home from work. Someone said he was high on drugs, probably coke - he normally was.

The senior dealer caught my eye and called me over to his desk. "I understand you speak French...is that right?"

I smiled nervously, "Yes! I got an O and A level in French!"

I couldn't believe it - all those years of wanking thinking of the French teacher, and now it seemed to be relevant & was about to pay off!

"OK Garson...get yourself over to Jeff's desk, speak to Jessica...she will tell you what to do! Let's see if you can get me out of this shit I'm in!"

I did get them out the shit, that day & the next few weeks that followed, I really made the job my own, as a result got myself promoted - it wasn't a massive promotion, but another £15,000 pay rise was not bad, considering where I came from and my age. Penny was quite impressed; we went out to a wine bar & to my surprise she asked me to move in with her.

I didn't really have a lot to move in with, Mum & Dad were upset when I told them but said I was always welcome home & not to run in to anything too quickly. Penny had a beautiful flat, everything was expensive & new. The sex was incredible she had amazing energy & really loved to talk dirty when I was fucking her. The wearing of the knickers had never stopped, Penny really got turned on when I wore her knickers & so did I, but as the weeks went by she started to insist that when I shagged her, that I talk dirty in French to her. It was a bit of fun at first, but she really seemed to get off on it like me wearing her knickers, then she started insisting that I tone my voice down and make it more female rather than a guy's voice. She loved me to wear her knickers that she had been wearing all day long and had now started to insist that after we had cum, that I had to put them in my mouth whilst she spanked me. This all lasted for about 18 months & I was in heaven with a hot girlfriend good job & really happy lifestyle & then I lose my job, fucking get made redundant from my job that I had made my own & saved the company millions after Jeff died that fateful day.

* * *

Since I had been out of work, I had been doing all the housework, shopping, and poxy jobs that we normally shared. Penny had even started to ask me to do some ironing of her dresses and suits. It was really getting me down, and I felt more like a wife. When I got in from the shops the lights were on, and Penny was in the kitchen. She was drinking champagne. She poured me a glass and told me she wanted to shag me. She said I had to go upstairs, shower, and she would be waiting for me in the bedroom. I virtually ran upstairs - the shagging with Penny was always really hot! She really loved a cock inside her and always gushed hot creamy cum out from her pussy when she orgasmed. I jumped in the shower, started to wash myself - it had been a few weeks since we shagged, and my balls were waiting to burst.