Turns out, I don’t have a no-underwear fetish
Underwear fetish
Everyone has their kinks, their turn-ons, that thing that sets their motor running in some way. Feet, latex, BDSM, role play- you name it and someone is probably into it.
An underwear fetish of some sort is probably one of the more common not-so-guilty pleasures. Seeing people wearing it, wearing it yourself (the fancy kind, I imagine, not your sensible knickers reserved for periods) or, for some, touching it. To each their own, right? No judgement here. Except for the person that once stole my fancy, expensive satin knickers off the washing line. That was many moons ago and they were a scant bit of shimmer that left nothing to the imagination. Now that I think about it, they could have just blown away in a gust of wind. If someone took it upon themselves to pinch them off the line, however, I am judging. Just on the stealing, just so we are clear. I don’t blame them for liking the teensy pants. They were HAWT. But, I digress.
The other common underwear fetish is going completely without them. Freeballing, for those with a certain anatomy. No knickers at all, for the rest of us.
Why might you go without?
I’ve known a few people to do this on the regular. Some guys find it more comfy. Of my women friends, it often hasn’t been down to an underwear fetish, per se, but down to fear of the dreaded VPL. Yes, the “visible panty line”. Remember that? When we all worries that people would see the line and, what, worries that people would see it and know we were wearing undies?! Gasp!! The horror!! We tried to hide behind g-strings and v-strings and seam-free, “flesh” coloured creations. But the only way to get that truly smooth line was going without.
No one I know admitted to it being a turn on, but who knows? I accidentally tried it out myself and here is that story for you all to enjoy.
The time I forgot my undies- an unintentional experiment
I was at the gym, post-aqua fitness. I hopped in the shower, mentally planning my drive to work and what I needed to do. Showered and dried, I rummaged in my bag for clothing. Bra, check. Knee length dress, check. Cardigan and shoes, check.
Shit.
I put on what I had. Brushed my hair. Walks as casually as I could to the car. Side note: It’s hard to walk casually when you’re trying to subtly hold your dress down. Drove to a tiny nearby shopping centre. Hobbled to the entry. Discount store! Shuffled casually through the aisles to find they only stocked men’s trunk style underwear. I know of the men wearing ladies underwear fetish. I wondered if the reverse is for me? Could it be? The thick elastic waistband was not appealing. I mentally prepared for it anyway, in case there was no other option. Out I strolled, casually, completely terrified of accidentally standing on a vent like Marilyn Monroe. I don’t think we even have those vents here?
The only other shops there are three fast food takeaways, a hairdresser, a butcher shop and then, suddenly, glowing in the distance with the sounds of angels singing, a Woolies. Never have I been so pleased to see one. A multipack of generic cotton knickers later and I was in the bathrooms and back out the door feeling much more comfortable.
The result
Disclaimer: It’s possible my feelings are also being influenced by the fact that I told a couple of select work colleagues about it, not realising an important meeting was going on in the next room. And the door wasn’t exactly closed. So, since they all know, I figured I’d tell you, as well.
If you’ve ever been even vaguely curious about what it’s like to walk around in public wearing a dress and no pants, you can at least learn from my mistakes. I’m pretty open minded. However, after my unintentional road-test, I can confirm the no-knickers thing is not for me. It was an anxious experience, to be honest. And kinda breezy.
