About Me


Subscribe: RSS for blog RSS for comments

Facebook icon and link Twitter icon and link Flickr icon and link Qik icon and link Dopplr icon and link
MySpace icon and link MyBlogLog icon and link Technorati icon and link Tumblr icon and link Blogger icon and link

friend me on Facebook
follow me on Twitter
view my photos on Flickr
watch my videos on Qik
find me on Dopplr
join my MySpace
check my MyBlogLog
my Technorati profile
view my Tumblr
my Blogger profile
Blog RSS feed
Comments RSS feed

Recent posts

Rip and burn
Mirror mirror
Txt sex for beginners
Time to grow up
Female Domination
Sex is...
In the company of men

Places to shop and visit

My Top 10 Toys - Women
My Top 10 Toys - Men
My Top 10 Toys - Couples
Fleshlight UK
Durex's Ora!

Tuesday, February 01, 2005


I have a problem.

I've been aware of it for some time.

I know I need help.

I have an addiction and I am unable to resist the temptation.

I tell myself I won't let it get the better of me, but it is out of my control:

I now have almost 100 items of underwear in my drawer.

I know it is not normal to make regular purchases of sexy panties, lacy basques or satin suspender belts, but I can't stop myself from buying them. Every time I am in a clothing store, I find myself in the lingerie department, fondling some soft, sensual material, thinking how cute it would look outlining my arse, or enveloping my breasts, and before I know it, my credit card is being swiped and said item is being whisked into a bag and taken back to my flat. (If only bedding cute guys were as easy).

I digress:

Underwear. I know I have too much of it because I regularly find a new sexy pair of panties in my drawer that I don't even recall buying. They usually still have the price tag on. There are pants of every style you could imagine: tiny g-string triangles, hipster hotpants, fitted briefs, tie-string, shorts; and every material you can think of: satin, silk, lycra, cotton, lace, mesh; and every colour they could come in: black, brown, dark and light blue, pink (varying shades), purple (and lilac), red, white, cream, the list goes on. And I haven't even started on the basques, teddies or suspenders.

I'm not sure when this addiction started. For years I wasn't into wearing anything 'sexy', feeling that I would just be perpetuating a sexist objectified view of femaleness that was shoved down my throat via the covers of magazines. Lingerie = female sexual availability represented through male fantasy. How could a feminist like myself wear something that seemed to exist just to turn a man on? I didn't want to feel like a piece of meat, viewed as a sexual object, so my early relationships were spent wearing 'comfortable' knickers and 'sensible' bras; the thought of my partner getting off on lingerie - the male pornographic fantasy - made me extremely uncomfortable.

A lot has changed since then. I have no idea when it happened, but at some point, I began to find lingerie sexy. I liked to look at it. I enjoyed touching it. And when I held it against my skin, it made me feel sexy. But that wasn't the biggest revelation for me. No. What came as the biggest shock was when I slipped a pair of lacy panties over my thighs and saw the curve of my arse through the material. I not only looked good, but I felt good. Actually, to be more precise, I felt sexy. And seeing myself feeling sexy turned me on. Looking at myself in the underwear began to get me hot. It made me want to play. So I did. I would have a new thong on and look at myself in the mirror (the narcissist again) enjoying how the garment felt and looked against my body. And my hands would begin to stray, following the curve of the thong as it reached down between my legs, disappearing between the cheeks of my bottom. Just feeling the silky material against my skin would make me wet; my fingers didn't take long to 'break in' each new pair of panties.

Hence my enjoyment of lingerie. I began to wear it for me, to feel sexy: only I knew what I had on underneath my clothes. At some point, this appreciation of underwear was shared by a partner, and I realised that there was nothing wrong with him enjoying me in it, as much as I enjoyed me in it. In fact, I love it when my partner gets off on what I wear: it turns me on to know that I am turning him on. And of course I view what I wear with less cynicism now: I don't feel degraded wearing sexy lingerie (plus I also enjoy looking at porn); I feel like me - empowered, sexy and horny, the opposite to how I thought I would feel all those years ago.

So I have taken to lingerie like a fish to water: I cannot stop myself from purchasing more and more of it. I already have too much: most of my panties don't even see the light of day, let alone get the chance to be fondled by another person, so I have no idea why I keep on buying more. Like I said, I am an addict.

Purchases in recent days include:

Baby blue satin low rider shorts with black piping
Black lacy low rider hipsters with a v-slit in the front and a drawstring to (semi) close them
Bright pink satin thong
See-thru black mesh hipster shorts with a pastel pink trim
Lilac shorts with black lace trim
And my favorites: Black satin low rider hipsters with a cut-out slit in the rear held together (just) with three pink bows

Yummy. But I'm not going to try any of these on in front of my mirror: that'd be a waste of perfectly clean panties, given how easily my hand would wander between my legs to 'test out' how silky the material felt against my skin. No, I think I shall save these for a 'special' day. Until then, I'll just have to find some 'normal' panties to wear. That is if I have any...

designed by one man