This is a work of fiction
If you cannot differentiate the difference between reality and fictional fantasy, you should not be on this site.
I have always had a fetish for women’s panty. The myriad of design and style available in so many interesting materials is a fresh relief from the boring cotton underwear we men are resigned to.
The sheer lace, intricate patterns and the icy cool and smooth materials is just so arousing on so many levels.
I got my first panty by accident during a school camp.
A wet bag of mine containing worn clothes we jumped into the pool in got mixed up by mistake.
There were several of us using the common supermarket plastic bag for our wet clothes and among them was a really hot girl called Claire.
I’ve always had a crush on Claire. Her long hairless legs, full B cup breast that just seemed to bounce with each step she takes. She has a radiant smile and with that perfect shoulder length hair and a perky butt, Claire is the fantasy of all the boys in class.
Getting into the same team as Claire for the 3 day camp is the luckiest thing to ever happen to a 15 year old. The interaction, the teasing , the meals we had together and all the team bonding activities.
It was literally heaven for me.
My only regret was not being man enough to express my feelings for her.
Actually I did not know I had Claire’s bag of wet clothes until I poured the contents out for a quick rinse after getting back home.
I saw the same coloured team t-shirt and I did not think much of it until I saw a bra fall out from inside the top.
I froze immediately as I stared at the bra on the floor.
I felt this strange feeling coursing through my body.
I did not dare to touch it initially but then I caught a glimpse of some writings on the tag of the t-shirt the organisers issued to us for the camp.
Claire. Her name was written on the white tag of the t-shirt.
My heart started beating at twice it’s normal speed as I quickly shut the bathroom door.
I picked up the damp bra and upon closer inspection, realised it was the one that I saw Claire wear on the 2nd day of the camp. I recognised the bra straps because I kept stealing glances at it when her t-shirt, a size too big, falls off her shoulder at regular intervals.
Blood rushed to my privates as I did something I only read about online. I brought Claire’s worn bra to my nose and I took in a deep whiff, my mind immediately transported to a place I do not have a name for.
The smell of Claire’s stale sweat, her body lotion, everything about Claire filled my head at that moment and I could feel my cock on the verge of orgasm even without touching it.
I checked the bag for other contents and saw the black running shorts that Claire wore for the past few days with the pale purple cotton panty rolled up within.
The moment I touched Claire’s worn panty, I felt as if a curse has been placed on me. A curse that followed me to this very day.
I pressed it to my nose and it only took 3 stroke before I shot my load all over the bathroom floor.
I carefully clean and washed Claire’s clothes and lingerie before drying them out in the sun. I kept running to the bamboo poles to check on Claire’s clothes, fearful that the wind will blow them away.
I even set an alarm to remind myself to keep the clothes before my parents come home from work. For the first time that day, I was thankful for the hot sunny weather.
The clothes were freshly sunned and smelled amazing after I folded them neatly and kept it in a ziplock bag.
I sealed it, tagged it with Claire’s name and even added a short story how I came into possession of it.
That was #1 in my collection.
As I grow up over the years, I started adding more. Girlfriend’s, flings, colleagues, superiors, even my lady boss, neighbours.
I built up a nice collection of women’s lingerie in my wardrobe. The collection grew at a breakneck speed when I moved into my own apartment.
I was at #157 at 32 years old.
All my collection are nicely catalogued, labelled and I even worked out a online index for them.
On days that I feel like it, I would hit a random number, see the picture of the lingerie I collected come up on screen with the background story of how I got it appear as if I was shopping on a web store.
I would remove the lingerie carefully for my masturbation needs. Sometimes I managed to get entire sets from tops to the shoes my target wears. Most of it belonged to my ex-girlfriends.
I have easy access to their wardrobe and they never realised what I did.
Women are all the same. Too many shoes, too much lingerie, too much clothes.
I was actively searching for a potential target for #158 to add to my collection when I saw a folder on my desk that is tagged for approval.
I opened the folder and I nearly fell off my chair.
As the HR manager of a small company, my signature was required for the final sign off for new hires by my colleagues.
I stared at the picture of someone I have not seen in so many years.
She’s joining my company.
I saw her employee profile. She’s not married, she only lives a few street away from me.
I saw her personal email on the profile and I used it to search for her social media profile and I was immediately rewarded by Claire’s picture on my screen.
I smiled as I thought about #158.
It seemed fate has brought us one full circle.
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