The Panty Raider

There, I did it again. Filching another pair of delicious panties from an unsuspecting girl - well, young woman. I'm a sophomore at a conservative Christian college in Tennessee (Robb Relertson College) and I'm having problems balancing studies and women. You see, the word seems to have gotten around that I'm a great kisser and well, great beyond that 'ol first base too. In fact, I've had five home runs since I arrived.

I'm lucky, my parents are well off, so as of my second year here I don't have to live in a dorm on campus (all freshmen have to live in dorms). Now, I'm sharing an apartment with another guy from my home town (sharing with a single woman is a no-no in this community). And I have a nice car, not new, but sporty.

This all got started earlier in life back in my home town when being a pretty good dancer and good talker (to girls) and having my dad's built-in confidence made me popular. The word got around that I was a hot date and girls, well, used me - yeah, "used me," - to get worldly experience.

I'm short and slender - not actually skinny - but slender, so in the looks department I lack that movie-star quality. It's just that I meet girls easily, I can talk them up, I'm naturally friendly, and some say I have a nice smile. So - despite their being Christians and going to a Christian college - these female college students are living away from home for the first time, and a lot of them want to have fun, some of them with a capital "F."

My roommate, better built and better looking than me, is perplexed at my success, but then he's more of a quiet and deliberate farm boy who's only had one girlfriend before (but they split up before he came to college).

So I, Audie McClennon, a business major, have been having relations with women who live both on and off campus - mostly sophomores like me. The only problem with dorm women is that they have to be back in their rooms by 10 p.m. They are closely monitored in this regard by their hall monitors.

I really do try to keep my grades up, but that other part of me keeps wanting to go up, too. So I am a C+ student, which my parents aren't happy with, since I was a B+ student in high school. I have to try harder! Bad pun.

Anyway, I recently spent the night over at this Susan's apartment. She's in my English lit class, and we decided to study together and critique each other's work - for the first time. She fortunately has an apartment by herself. I like Susan. She has a no-nonsense attitude, rides a motorcycle to campus, is a music major, and unlike a lot of women on campus, wears clothes that reveal a really nice butt and what I take to be 38B breasts. Perfect. She said a couple people on campus suggested she wear looser clothing, but that was not to be. The college has been sagging in enrollments, and it takes a lot to be kicked out.

So for an hour or so we dutifully stuck to our "study and not slip" agreement, sitting on her carpet with our laptops. Then we proceeded to lay on her carpet, still gazing into our laptops. My adventurous leg crossed over hers for a minute - just a minute - and then I pulled her to me, feeling her boobs against me, and my thigh was pushing against her cunt. We were both getting hot, kissing like animals.

The laptops got pushed aside and we took off our trousers (she was wearing tight jeans) and briefly we were down to our underwear. She had great taste in her lace panties and lace-trimmed bra, and this inflamed me even more. I pulled her bra straps down and released one of her tits from its cup, and there was her large, inviting nipple, which I played with a little before nuzzling it with my kips. Meanwhile, her roving hand found my hard dick, which was getting quite wet.

And if you're thinking this is all happening in complete silence, you're wrong. We had been chatting, along with Ohs and Ahs and other little sounds that are not quite human and not quite animal.

Her hand circled my manhood, and started stroking it. "Baby," I said, "baby, I don't want to cum in your hand, if you know what I mean."

"Oh," she said, as if she was just entirely in the moment and wasn't thinking about going all the way.

"Are you safe?" I asked, trying to move her thought processes toward that goal. "I mean, are you on the pill?"

"Yeah, I started last year."

We disrobed completely. I always get slightly self-conscious considering my slender build, but my dick wanted to enter her so badly, it ached. She lay on her back in, appropriately, the missionary position, and I smiled, and she half smiled (maybe she was slightly apprehensive?) and I very carefully entered her wet pussy. At that point her eyelids fluttered a bit, and it was her turn to be a little self-conscious as she reached down to finger her clit. I began to thrust, slowly at first, and then faster, and her body was flexing and rolling slightly from side to side. This girl was good!

We came only a few seconds apart, feeding on each other's rising excitement. All study was forgotten for the rest of the evening, and we bedded together, and fucked again first thing in the morning. She had to skip breakfast and left for an early class on her Yamaha with a cheery "To be repeated?" - leaving me to forage some breakfast for myself before I left.

And also before I left I had the chance to also forage through her lingerie. Susan, as I said, has very good taste. I'll admit that I was getting hard again touching her things. So, I am a panties man. I collect them. Some guys do it (or keep bras) as trophies.

For me, panties are so sexy - when I lived at home, I used to peruse images of them online. Everything about them: the fabric (often slick or elastic), the cut (thong or hip hugger or whatever), the smell (sometimes offering a hint of perfume or other womanly smells), the color, and so on, and on. When I hold one in my hand I imagine the graceful shape of a woman's cunt underneath, or imagine how the panty looks as it passes between a woman's thighs.

So, like many times with other women, I left with one of her panties - a maroon one, with lace on the sides - slick and silky - and it was petite and low-cut - not like one of those old-lady kinds that go up to a woman's waist. I felt like I was taking part of Susan with me, and wondered what she would do if she noticed it missing. Would she ever compare notes with any other woman student who had a good time with me and also lost a panty?

So the panty went in my drawer back in my apartment, along with a dozen others. I even bought one one time to give to a girlfriend but ended up liking it so much I kept it myself.

So, yes, I am a panty man.

This went on throughout my stay at the college. I was never into long-term relationships, and never dated a woman for more than a month. So if a woman began to seem needy and possessive, I stepped away. More than one woman I bedded asked me what I thought about marriage, and that was a relationship killer for sure ...

There was one new twist to my thievery toward the end of my undergrad days - a couple times I stole bras, which were becoming as exciting for me as panties. One time I didn't steal it from the girlfriend, but rather from her roommate. Another time, a girlfriend had a pile of laundry she was taking to a laundromat, and I spotted a sexy bra within, and secreted it away. I never was questioned by these women, fortunately.

These insane activities continued until I graduated. Susan became a distant memory, as did Blair, Emily, Meghan, Laura, Molly, Brittany, and many more.

I went off to Nashville that summer to intern with a real estate management company before getting my MBA (masters degree in business administration). While in Nashville, my parents nicely supplemented my meager income so that I could have an apartment by myself. My lingerie collection traveled with me. For the first time in my post-puberty life I wasn't popular with women, mostly because all the women in the real estate office were older and many were married. I was the lowest person on the totem pole, and had to kiss ass all the time.

At bars and events, it seemed like I only met women into music, and I'm not a music guy, so I couldn't talk music talk. I couldn't even fake it. The whole summer I was in Nashville, I only met and bedded one woman - a woman I met while bicycling out in the country. We both got drunk, and royally fucked in a secluded glade in a county park. And dammit - I wasn't able to make off with a panty!

But that brings me to what I did with my other time. I'd be at home, looking at porn videos of women wearing panties and bras, and sometimes they'd be making love with each other - what a turnon - or they'd be fingering themselves, or just posing as a tease.

Now that I was no longer studying and bedding women, I had all this time on my hands. This - no surprise - led to me sometimes wearing panties and bras, and eventually dresses, and jewelry, around the apartment. Dressing became a major turnon, and before an evening was over - or a Saturday or Sunday - I'd inevitably royally beat off.

I got to the point where I was actually buying women's stuff at big-box stores. Few people knew me in Nashville, so I didn't figure I'd be found out.

My family had no idea about my deviating from the Christian path. I continued to regularly go to church, but it was more out of habit, and I found myself looking at young women there - how they dressed, how they did their makeup, how they moved and talked, and so on. I was, frankly, jealous.

Then it was time to move to the U. of Tennessee at Chattanooga to get my MBA. I convinced my parents I needed my own apartment, and since they could easily afford it, they agreed. For the first time in my life, I really had to bear down and study hard. The women in the program were more mature, now, and varied in age considerably. My wiles no longer worked with them as well, and I found myself dressing up as soon as I returned home for kind of a screwy feminine companionship. I went to bed in a nightgown. What it boiled down to was - I had to be dressed as "Audrey" to study. Being Audrey relaxed me.

Thanks to Audrey, my grades were very good. My parents were pleased.

I kept enhancing my Audrey side, learning the finer points of makeup. I let my hair grow long, and I could style when needed. During my second year, I joined a small local bunch of crossdressers meeting at various peoples' homes, and I liked them, because they were very welcoming and adept at "passing," and they taught me a lot. They told me right away that my short stature, slenderness and roundish facial features made it much easier for me to look convincingly like a woman.

I was enjoying being Audrey for extended periods.

There was a real woman who came to some of our meetings with another crossdresser named Fiona. Fiona was tall and somewhat gawky, but she did the best she could - good enough to go out to a bar once in a while. Then Fiona and the real woman, named Teresa, had some kind of breakup, and I ended up striking a relationship with her. She liked men in panties and skirts.

So Teresa stopped going to the meetings, and we would see each other at my place or hers.

I remember the first time she came to see me. I was fully outfitted as Audrey when she arrived. She was dressed down - with a short skirt and somewhat loose top. We hugged, and had beers. She said I really did look like an Audrey - that she would feel comfortable going out in public with me.

I asked her what attracted her to crossdressers.

"I'd rather talk about that later, Audrey," she said with a smile. I loved the impressions her boobs made under her top, and her long, dark-brown hair.

She came over to sit next to me, and we tentatively and gently kissed. I had lipstick on, and loved the feeling of my earrings dangling as our lips explored. I had even put on a little perfume.

She was cradling my head in her hands as we continued to kiss.

Then, before I had even begun to make another move, she was pushing up my dress. I was wearing a gaff to eliminate my male bulge, which she quickly removed. I was slightly uncomfortable, being half male and half female - but my cock quickly jumped to attention and she busied herself with giving me an expert blow job, right there on the sofa. I hadn't had an orgasm that big for a long time.

She looked happy, wiping her mouth off.

I fixed her a superb meal - with wine - and we slept together that night, her nude and me in one of my nightgowns.

We did have a fun relationship, for about six months, during which we alternated between her place and mine. She was an elementary school teacher, and she taught me how to improve my looks and mannerisms even more. When she was pleased enough, we went out on the town - to shows, to bars, shopping, and restaurants.

I was the happiest I'd ever been in my life. I no longer was feeling I was on the prowl, searching for sexual nirvana - because I was in sexual nirvana. I was a woman with a cock, which she loved.

Once we switched roles, and she actually fucked me with a dildo. Just once.

And then, I lost her - to another, sexier crossdresser she met at a local LGBT bar.

But I was too far along the Audrey path to stop. Before I completed my MBA, I attended some college parties as Audrey, and everyone seemed accepting of me as a woman and complimented me.

Eventually I met fellow-student Courtney, who was a little like Teresa. She wanted a relationship with a lesbian with a dick.

I remember the first time we made it. We'd been making out on the thick rug on my living-room floor, rubbing against each other, feeling each other's bodies.

I should mention that I had been taking small-dose hormone pills to give me more a little more fat in the right places - in other words, to give me some curves.

It wasn't long before we undressed each other - me to a bra - and she presented herself doggy style. That's always been my favorite position - because I like holding a woman's hips while thrusting away. I like to feel my balls banging away against a woman's butt. Because of the hormones, my erection wasn't quite as throbbingly big as before, but it was still plenty good.

This relationship, too, was not a long one. It seemed as though we explored every sexual possibility, and we had fun, but there wasn't that deep friendship and trust that cements a relationship.

So, after graduating, I began working for a large brokerage (back in Nashville) in their research department - where I met Robin. Robin was tall, wearing mannish suits and close-cropped hair, and I noticed her looking at me a lot - me in my men's suit, but with colorful ties, and long hair. From the very beginning, she took the initiative.

"Audie, wanna go out for a drink tonight?"

"Ah, sure, do you have a place in mind?"

"Out in my neighborhood, Chesley's. I can drive you out there."

So we had this delicious dinner, with lots of wine, and she was looking great. Breasts pressing against her white shirt, heels peeking out from under her tailored trousers. We were both feeling high and looser than at work.

"So, Audie."

"Yeah?"

"You mystify me. You're not the usual new MBA in the department. There's something about you."

"Like?"

"I mean you're not the usual heat-seeking missile; guys looking for the quick sex and all that. You seem so calm and, well, happy."

"I am, actually."

"You're what do they call ... hmmm ... a metrosexual. I hope you don't take offense at that."

"No."

"And," Robin continued, "there's something gender-neutral about you. You're not a surfboarding dude, or a hunter dude, and there's something slightly feminine about you. I'm just grasping at straws here."

I nod: "Yeah - you're right. And you - you have a very interesting mix of feminine and masculine. I guessed that you were a lesbian, so I was a little surprised you invited me out."

"Actually, I was too ... Yes, I've had a few girl relationships. But let me ask you, where are you on the sexual scale, if you know what I mean?"

"Oh well, you might as well know. Just let's keep this between us for the time being. I have within me - I must be drunk to talk so freely like this - a female persona I call Audrey. You know - Audie and Audrey?"

"Ahh, so my intuition was correct."

"Yes, I suppose so. When I go home at night, I become Audrey. I've been out in public, I mix with some other crossdressers, and I'm taking small-dose hormones."

"Well, imagine that. Yes, I can picture you as an Audrey. Good lord."

"And, have you ever dressed to pass as a guy?"

"Once, on a lark. And I did pass."

Robin and I began to see a lot of each other. We began to live together. It was as though our whole lives had been aimed at each other from childhood. We married: she the groom and me the bride. We started our own small brokerage and lived very comfortably. We had two kids. We were as happy as happy can be.

And to this day ... I continue to keep a vast collection of panties.