When we left off at the end of Ch. 01 Steve and I had just finished filming a solo shoot (with me behind the camera for a change) that took a turn and ended up with his face buried between my cheeks and his fat cock buried deep in my mouth. You can read the previous story for full details on how we got to that surprising climax but the short explanation is that he had to take a turn in front of the camera and I ended up having to help move things along in order to speed things up. After we both came down from our amazing orgasms I thought for sure there would be more filming but things didn't end up going that way. Something came up and we both went our separate ways. I for one was fully expecting to meet up again soon for another scene but, as happens all too often, life got in the way.
That was about 5 years ago now and we are finally throwing around the idea of meeting back up, although things are much different now. I've been in a committed relationship for quite a while now and although it's been devoid of any physical intimacy for quite some time I still can't bring myself to let things get physical with anyone else. I have different motivations for wanting to get together. Steve is really the only one that I could even think of to share my secret with and even the thought of that makes me crazy nervous. I've shared with him my desires and some of the things that I do when I have the house to myself but actually showing him is a whole other level of crazy.
I've been wearing panties and thongs off and on for a few years now. It started with just pulling on one of my girlfriend's thongs out of curiosity. I had always been so enthralled when she wore them that I thought I'd see how it felt to be in her position, how it felt to be in something so skimpy with that thin strip permanently between my cheeks. I pulled them up and did my best to get my whole package into the front but there was definitely some spilling over right from the start.
I did my best to cover what I could and then went to check myself out in front of the full-length mirror in our bedroom. The material was straining to keep everything in place in the front but it was doing an admirable job considering that is clearly not what it was made for. After a quick look at the front I turned to get a peek at the rest. I was a little shocked at how good my ass looked as the material above tapered down until it disappeared between my cheeks. I have always been an ass man but I never thought I would see my own ass in a thong and do anything other than laugh.
After a short few minutes of admiring the view from all angles I quickly changed back out of the thong and put it back where I had found it. Even trying it on in private for that short time with nobody else aware I was still feeling embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I vowed to refrain from doing that again and did my best to keep my word to myself. That worked for a few weeks until one day, as I walked in to find clothes after my shower, I found myself staring at a lacy thong laying on the bedroom floor.
Thoughts raced through my head. "She's gone for the day. I'm clean, still naked, and suddenly curious what this different material would feel like against my smooth skin." I like to keep myself smooth below the neck.
After almost no time at all I dropped my towel and grabbed the tiny pile of material from the floor, stepped into the leg holes and slid it up my body, again barely covering my crotch as it split me from behind. I was loving the feel of the soft fabric against my skin, straining to keep me contained, combined with the feel of the cool air all around me. In only the thong I went and climbed into bed so I could feel the caress of the satin sheets through the lace and against my naked cheeks. The feeling was intoxicating and it didn't take long before I had to take my throbbing cock into my hand and stroke myself to a powerful climax, the best that I had experienced in quite a while.
Of course, immediately afterward the feelings of shame returned full force and once again I vowed to refrain from doing that again. I wasn't fooling myself and realized that I wasn't going to be that prudish but I was determined to at least stop wearing my girlfriend's underwear. Within a few days I had done a fair amount of "research" into what underwear I liked the most, what styles and sizes would fit best and I pulled the trigger on ordering a handful of items for myself, all in combinations of black, grey and/or white.
I work exclusively at home so it didn't take long before I was pulling on some lace and wearing it around the house whenever I knew I'd be home alone for an extended period of time. I'd even taken to wearing skimpy little black thongs underneath my own underwear and clothes when heading out for quick errands. I would never consider letting it happen but the thought of getting caught was erotic beyond belief. Many times I came home and shot huge loads after those excursions but other times I would just go about whatever business I needed to attend to around the house.
Over time my urge to wear sexy underwear grew stronger. Sometimes I would start to stiffen just from thinking about pulling on a sheer thong. Whenever I would see Victoria's Secret commercials I would get turned on by the hot models but possibly even more by the thought of slipping on whatever panties they were wearing. The hardest thing about this whole journey was that I didn't feel like I could talk about it with anyone. It was the forbidden fruit that I was only able to taste alone. I longed to be able to tell someone, to share with someone what I liked and what I fantasized about.
Finally, one night when I was up late in our empty home I couldn't resist telling someone at least a little bit about my secret clothes. I typed out an email with a subject of "Please don't judge" and quickly sent it to Steve before I had the chance to change my mind. Regret set in immediately after I clicked send but there was no turning back. I had just poured out my story, told Steve all about what I had been up to starting with that very first thong and there was no pulling it back now.
With thoughts racing through my head of what Steve would be thinking when he read the email I had no hope of falling asleep anytime soon but I crawled into bed anyway, naked except for my little thong. As I lay there staring at the ceiling all I could think was, "What the hell did I just do? What was I thinking?"
My barrage of negative thoughts were fortunately interrupted before they spun too far out of control. I was soon interrupted by a dinging from my phone which I had thankfully forgotten to mute before getting into bed. Reaching over I grabbed my phone and tilted it toward myself to see if it was something worth opening. Man, was it ever!
My heart shot up into my throat when I saw that it was already a response from Steve. I kept trying to tell myself that it didn't matter what other people thought but by the way I was feeling right then it was clear that I didn't believe any of that crap one bit. I could feel the heat coming from my ears, one of those symptoms of embarrassment that I know all too well, so I decided it would be best to just rip the band-aid off and see what he had to say.