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How My diaper Fetish Started

Being a young boy about ten and having an underwear fetish was not nearly good enough for me, oh no…why make it easy on me?! My underwear fetish was more convoluted than that, incorporating diapers and “rubberpants” which, needless to say, made for “exciting” times.
I was about ten years old and I was playing “hide and seek” with my brother, I was the one hiding and he was seeking. We knew each other’s hiding places fairly well from playing the game on a regular basis so I needed to get creative….I needed to find a place that neither of us ever has used before and then the idea hit me like a ton of bricks. I could hide in the front hall coat closet. Although this same closet was used dozens of times before, to hide in; this time I would “get high” up in the closet. No, it’s not what you think! I was not smoking pot at age ten up in there! Get high in this case meant to hide up higher than the floor level and this is what I did.
I stood on the step stool that’s been in the closet ever since I could remember and reached up to the first level shelf. I pulled myself onto the shelf which was about six feet off the floor; the shelf held my weight but was shaky. I continued to “climb” onto the two additional higher shelves which were about eight or nine feet off the ground. Grandma had ten foot ceilings so the shelves almost went to the very top. I hear my brother coming, so I trying to lay flat on my belly so when he opened the closet he was less likely to see me. As I stretched out my arms pushed o large box on the shelf that I originally thought was empty. I would inspect the contents of the box later, after I was “found”. After several minutes of hearing my brother running around the house, in and out of all the rooms, he yells out; “Ok, I give up!”
This was music to my ears and it looks like my new hiding spot was a success. I start to quietly climb down from the topmost shelf as to not alert my brother or mother as to my whereabouts but then realize that the mystery box was up there and it needed to be opened …to reveal its contents. At ten years old my imagination was running wild as I carefully climbed back up to the top shelf as to what could be in the box? Money? Old family photos? A birthday present? I opened the box……..
What I found inside was much better the money and old family photos and it certainly COULD be a birthday present for me, I thought…one that I’d give myself. Lifting the dusty top off the box, I carefully reached in and pulled from its bowels, three pairs of rubberpants. Two of them were a milky white color and the third one was different than the other two, almost clear with metal snaps on each side. I instantly decided I like the latter because it gave me that “funny feeling” down there just as the catalog pictures had done many times before. I put the other two back into the box and tucked the snapped pair down my pants to “hide” them. I climbed down the shelves and quietly snuck out of the closet. I made a direct bee-line for the bathroom where I could get the privacy that I needed to inspect my new found treasure.
In the bathroom, I pulled down by Billy the Kid corduroys and my Carter’s brand underpants the ones that had the three colored stripes on them that alternated blue red blue. I slipped on the rubberpants. I stood in front of the full length mirror and looked at myself. I was old enough to know that these were used for babies, to cover their diapers so the “wet” diaper would leak onto other surfaces but what puzzled me was the fact that these actually fit me and I certainly wasn’t the size of a baby. Who wore these? Why were they on the closet shelf in a box all by themselves? Why did they fit a big boy like me when they were made for a baby? I thought about, then forget about it and I was back to staring at myself in the mirror when I had a fantastic idea! If a baby wore these over diapers maybe I could wear these over my Carter’s underpants. I quickly slid off the rubberpants and in doing so, hurt my “pee pee” not realizing that I was so excited, that I had a boner. I put my underpants back on and pulled the rubberpants over them. This feel soooooo good to me! I looked back into the mirror and stared at myself again, when other idea came into my head. Maybe I could “wet” my underpants now and not have in leak out everywhere.
I stood in the mirror concentrating…trying to relax and pee my undies. A drop…..dissapointing. I sat on the toilet lid and tried again. Then I felt it, a warm sensation all over as I “peed” in my underpants. This feeling felt wonderful as I pushed out every last drop! I was soaked but to my amazement, not a drop was on the floor or on the toilet lid. I found this very arousing. When I couldn’t pee any more, I stood up and walked over to the mirror to see how I look in “wet” pants and that is when I heard my mom call for me, it was lunch time. I stood there thinking…..thinking…..and thinking…..I couldn’t leave the bathroom with peed in pants and wearing rubberpants and I couldn’t go to my room to get clean underwear because my mom would catch me, so I did the only thing I could think of which was to pull up my pants over both the wet undies and the rubberpants. Hoping mom my or brother wouldn’t notice, I came to the table, sat down and ate my lunch, wet pants and all. Halfway through lunch, I realized just how much I liked the feeling of sitting there in peed in underpants and rubberpants and wished I could do this all the time…and that is exactly what I did!
Many months after the first time of wetting my pants, I still continued the behavior but changing the way I did it. Sometimes, I would lay on my bed on my belly in my underpants and rubberpants and wet them and other times I would lay on my back. I liked the belly position better because as I peed in my underpants I could hump the bed which gave me a stiffy and eventually a “good feeling”. The problem with my new preoccupation was what to do with the peed in briefs. I could not throw them out and I could not throw them into the laundry basket all peed in so I had to wash them in the bathroom sink including the rubberpants which posed another problem for me. Where do I put my wet underpants and rubberpants until they dried? The answer came quick……on the top shelf of the closet until the next day or two when they dried. This worked for me for about a year…until the “big crash” happened.
On an early Saturday morning, I went to retrieve my dried underpants and rubberpants and realized that the rubberpants that I had been wearing were now ripping at different seams and I didn’t want to let any pee escape when I wet my pants so I needed to get another pair out on the box on the topmost self. I didn’t want to climb the shelf again, so I pulled a chair over to the closet put the stool on the chair and climbed the stack of chairs which still wasn’t quite tall enough to reach to top shelf. My arms were able to reach the top shelf so I pulled myself up (like doing a chin-up) on the shelf to get the box. That’s when things went terribly wrong! I lost my balance and the chair and stool went crashing to the floor! I was now dangling eight feet in the air, holding onto the top shelf for dear life, I heard a loud snap…and the shelf gave way, sending me, the shelves, the box with the rubberpants, and my drying underpants to the floor. My mom came running in, oh no! She will find out what I have been doing…and she did. After attending to my cuts and scrapes she sat me down in my bed and interrogated me as to why I had been wetting and hiding my underpants and why I was wearing plastic pants. I had no answers for her…..shrugged and replied “I don’t know”. I was grounded for two weeks and worst of all; my mother had taken and thrown out the rubberpants.
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The Pool Party: Caught on the Deck!

The Pool Party

During my sophomore year in high school I had made many friends. I was one of the popular kids who could fit into any clique without rejection because of my personality, charm, humor, and ability to adapt well to my surroundings. I was strong and confident and was well liked by everyone. I hung with the jocks and played sports but yet was able to hang with the geeks (no, they did not have pocket protectors) and make the honor roll three out the four years of high school. I was quite popular with the girls and the burn-outs liked me as well. One day I would wear my cashmere sweater, shirt and tie to school and the next day I would don my Jack Daniels sunglasses, faded jeans, my concert t-shirt from one of the 80s heavy metal rock bands with an unbuttoned flannel shirt over the t. I had many friends from all the cliques and we typically hung out at my house for many reasons.
My friends liked coming to my house because I had a cool room that I shared with my brother. The room was rather large since it was an attached garage that was converted into an additional bedroom room with an adjoining laundry room. My brother and I had spent countless hours decorating the room. Light up and neon beer signs, several arcade games, a large color TV, a small fridge and microwave, plenty of books, a Pachinko machine (Japanese “Pinball”), and a kickin stereo system. All the stuff a teen aged boy could ever want. Our street curved, and our home was situated on the curve, making back backyard property boundaries very large and irregular shaped. Our backyard wad “pie-shaped” with the smallest width being about eighty-five feet, flaring out to just over one-hundred and fifty feet in the rear of the yard; making it large enough for a pool and room to play any yard sports imaginable croquet, lawn darts, horseshoes, and volleyball were some of our favorite. We also had a very large swimming pool in the yard with a full deck all the way around it. The pool was an oval, eighteen feet wide by thirty-two feet long and was four feet deep and playing volleyball in the pool was much better than playing in the yard. Another reason that my friends liked hanging out at my house was that my parents were very strict yet very cool and they loved my moms home cooked meals which she always was willing to feed extra mouths without any complaints. My friends would tell my parents that they wished that their parents cooked at home and made good food like they did. Overall, it was an enjoyable time at my house for both my friends and for me. On any given summer night, we good be found out at the pool, swimming, playing, sitting on the deck talking or listening to music, telling ghost stories, and in my case; I was secretly admiring my friends bodies in their swim trunks, wishing that they were swimming in their briefs instead. Soon enough, this would come true.
It was early June and it was unusually hot that week. We had just been let out of school for summer break not even a week ago and the temperature soared pat ninety degrees. It was a hot and steamy Friday afternoon when a few of my friends called asking if I wanted to go to the Riverwalk. I declined because of the heat and instead invited them all to come over for a pool party since it was too hot to walk around at the Riverwalk and look for girls. GIRLS! Yuck, that definitely was not on my list of things to do, I’d rather be looking at all the hot guys instead but of coarse I could not tell this to my friends. By late afternoon two out of seven friends cancelled, one was staying home while the other was taking his girlfriend out to a movie. After dinner, I heard from, Jimmy, Dave, aqnd Scott who also declined the pool party and were going to the Riverwalk, they were desperate for a girl friend and all the hot girls could be found there. Chris was the last one to stop by with his mom in the car to cancel; they were headed to grandmas for the weekend. It was heading onto eight PM and I still have not heard from Steve so I gave him a call. To my surprise, Steve was just out of the shower and said he was heading over to swim with me as he didn’t to go looking for girls because it was too hot. Steve only lived several blocks over and he was over in no time.
Since it was almost nine o’clock by the time Steve came over, we were both hungry again and decided that a pizza sounded good. We ordered our favorite, a medium cheese and pepperoni, green pepper, onion and mushroom with extra sauce and a middle weight crust. On a hot and muggy summer night, we should have been ordering cold sub sandwiches but like all teenage boys, pizza was life. We sat at the poolside and talked until the pizza was delivered, which gave me forty-five minutes to somehow bring up the idea to Steve that we should not bother changing into our swim trunks and swim in our briefs. Forty-five minutes came and went and the pizza was delivered on time but I still had not figured out how to bring the subject up to Steve without sounding like I was gay. We talked about everything BUT swimming in our briefs. We finished eating, grabbed our cans of soda and sat side by side on the pool deck, our bare legs dangling in the water. Our legs touched one another under the water as we kicked them back and forth, exciting me and had it not been dark, Steve would have noticed for sure by the way by hard penis was poking through my shorts. We made small talk and after awhile, I sensed that Steve my be getting excited as well; not by the bulge in his shorts but by the way he was fidgeting and moving his legs around to “purposely” touch mine. I took this as my queue to say something…to make my move.
But what could I say that wouldn’t seem gay and possibly chase him away? I had to think fast before the moment was gone. I stood up really fast and did the most desperate thing that I could thick of. As I jumped up, I announced to Steve; “The mosquitos are getting bad and I’m chilly, I’m getting in the water”. Before Steve had the chance to say anything about not having our swim trunks on, I stripped off my shirt, tore off my pants and jumped into the pool in my briefs. It was only a matter of seconds before Steve followed my lead and slowly removed his shirt commenting on how chilly it is. He carefully and shyly unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts and as he did, I could see the beginnings of his white briefs showing. I was rock hard in the pool. Steve took off his pants, folded them and placed them on one of the many chairs on the deck. Now I could see how he looked in briefs! Steve was my friend for many years but this was my first time that I have ever seen him in his underwear. I was so excited, I thought I could feel the cum gushing out the end of my cock right then and there. Steve sat down on the deck, hung his legs in the water decided whether or not to slowly slide in or dive in. After some coaxing, he did the later. Now both of us were in the pool swimming with one another in our briefs. I wanted body contact, I wanted to feel another boys body in my hands, I wanted to rub him in his underwear and make him hard. I was dizzy with excitement thinking about it at the opposite end of the pool, Steve was somewhere behind me. Just then, I heard a large whoosh of water behind me. Steve had swam underwater and sprung up behind me, trying to scare me. He jumped on my back and we began to wrestle, tossing each other around.
It was only a matter of minutes before the inevitable happened. Steve and I were facing one another, squaring off, arms flailing around, each of us trying bear hug one another when Steve’s hand went under the water to do a “sneak attack”. Instead of grabbing my elbows or arm the restrain me, he grabbed right for my crotch. Instead my his idea working, thinking that this area was vulnerable which would make me drop my arms to my side he ended up grabbing my hard cock. The second he did that he stopped and looked embarrassed, he apologized. I accepted his apology and laughed adding that it was ok and I didn’t mind because it felt kind good. Steve replied “really?”. We walked to the other end of the pool. We leaned against the pool wall, our bodies side by side and completely submerged underwater up to our chins. We were both silent for a few minutes, still contemplating what had just happened and what was said. Steve was the first one to speak. “Did you really like me touching your cock and underwear?” I nodded. Steve asked, “Are you gay?” I said, “Hell no!” At that same second, I felt Steve’s hand again rubbing my stiff cock through my underwear; I sank deeper into the water. I could not believe this was happening. Under the water, Steve took my hand and guided to his cock. We both crouched in the water rubbing and stroking each other in our underwear under the water. I wanted to suck him off and I think he knew this. We climbed onto the deck and sat at waters edge fondling one another for what seemed like an eternity.  Seeing Steve hard in his JC Penny TownCraft briefs, the ones with the red and yellow-gold stripes on the waistband drove me wild. I gently placed my hand on Steve’s chest and pushed him backwards onto the deck so he would be lying flat on his back, feet and legs still dangling in the water. I pulled his hard rock hard cock through the fly of his underwear and fondled him. He pulled at my head and I knew what he wanted, me to suck him. I lowered my head to his cock, licked it slightly. It tasted and smelled like chlorine. I put it in my mouth. It was pulsating. Seconds later, the back porch lights came on. I panicked and sat up. My mother was all ready out the back door walking out to the pool. He had no time to hide what we were doing let alone throw towels over us. As she was walking over to the pool, she was saying something to the effect of, “What’s going on out here?, What are you two doing in the dark?” but I could not be sure, I was dizzy with freight, light headed and actually thought I was going to faint. We were caught.
We both stood up, Steve walked over to where his clothes were and wrapped himself into his towel as I talked to my mother. I gave her some excuse about how we were to lazy to get our swim trunks on and went swimming in our undies. She didn’t buy it, and whispered to me, “I think it’s time for your friend to go home”. Steve and I said nothing to one another; we got dressed on the pool deck, grabbed his bike and left without saying a word. What would I say to him tomorrow? I shut down the pool, turned off the filter, and turned off all the lighting and went into the house fully expecting a lecture or to be grounded but neither one happened. I went to my room and called Steve. We talked for another hour but only mentioned the episode for a second. Basically it was Steve saying, “Please don’t say anything to anyone, promise?” I agreed. Steve and I were great friends for many more years until he moved away and had never mentioned the situation again.
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A Brief Story: Stealing Underwear At Grandmas Store

All throughout the 1920s 30s 40s and 50s, my grandparents had owned several retail women’s and children’s’ retail clothing stores all of them located on the southwest side of Chicago. It wasn’t until the 1960s when my grandmother decided to close down the stores because of declining sales and an unstable neighborhood and relocated the store to the southwest suburbs of Chicago. The women’s portion of the store was never reopened mainly because of the fierce competition within the industry and the emergence of the “mall”. When the store opened in the late 1960s the name was also changed to reflect what they sold, children’s apparel. As a boy, I used to go to work with my grandmother typically on Saturday mornings and several times during the weekdays while on summer break to not only help out with the day to day operations but to hang out, the place was very cool and had cool things in the back room.
Working with my family at the store around the holidays was especially exciting because my family went to great lengths to “professionally decorate” the store windows and the store itself like the professional window dressers had done for them for the last forty years. My family had stopped using professional widow dressers once they moved from the city to the suburbs because of the continual rising costs of labor and “done-up” windows were falling out of favor because it took up too much valuable front window real estate which was needed to better showcase the merchandise and not the window décor. Although the professionals did not decorate the store windows any more, we still carried on the traditions of the old days and made wonderful looking Christmas windows and displays with all the props and decorations that were stored in the backroom from the last forty years of window trimming. I was about ten years old when I first was able to help with the window trimming for Christmas and an experience that I will never forget.
The store windows were huge and ran along the entire front facade of the store with exception of a glass door, the entire storefront was plate glass that was twelve feet in height. Inside the store there were raised platforms or “stages” as we called them in front of the windows that ran the length of each window on either side of the door and jutted out into the store about twelve to fifteen feet backwards. These window “stages were about one foot in height and each “stage” had a three-foot high white wrought iron railing around it with a narrow opening near the front door to access the platform. It was during the Thanksgiving meal with the family, that the Christmas window “theme” for 1976 was discussed and ideas set in stone. One window would depict Santa’s sleigh and reindeer flying high over the rooftops of a quiet and quaint neighborhood delivering packages to all the sleeping boys and girls while the other window would be our rendition of “Twas The Night Before Christmas” which would be limited to one scene because of space constraints, time, and money.
Monday after Thanksgiving and I was back in school, wishing that I was working on the preliminary Christmas window designs instead of learning about long division and fractions but I knew that Saturday was just around the corner and I was promised that none of the major decorating would take place until then, so in the long run I was happy that I was not going to miss anything.
Saturday morning came soon enough and my grandmother loaded my brother and me, my mother, and several boxes of fresh doughnuts purchased from Wolfs Bakery (our favorite neighborhood bakery), into the car. Since the store was only several communities over, the car ride was not long, about twenty minutes or so and we arrived at 8:30 AM. The store did not officially open until ten so that gave us time to eat out doughnuts and wait for other family members to arrive. I quickly ate my chocolate “long-john” and raspberry filled doughnuts, downed my glass of orange juice and headed for the backroom “staging area” where all the Christmas decorations, props, lighting, and merchandise had been set aside all week long. This was my families “system” and it worked well. It was much easier than locating it and gathering it all up on the same day that it was to be installed wasting valuable time. I navigated the huge backroom and endless isles and isles of storage with some shelves touching the fifteen foot ceilings. In the back right half of the backroom was the staging area and I was amazed at what I saw.
It was nearly nine forty-five before our store help and family members all arrived and we were already behind. First things first and the carpeting that covered the windows stages had to be converted and covered. For the outdoor scene, a huge pure white cloth was stapled over the existing carpeting to act a base “base color” for the snow that was coming later. In the other window, the one depicting Santa inside a living room of a house; the yellow-gold carpet was overlaid with a more neutral carpet remnant and in the center of the window was laid a huge oval floral area rug. Back to window one, where large painted wooden panels (back drops) were being suspended from the ceiling and hung by metal wire. These panels were painted by my mother who was quite talented and depicted rolling hills and cottages, and tree lined streets and acted as a backdrop to the widow scene and gave perspective to the window. At the same time those were being hung, six panels in all, window two was being transformed by my brother and me and several other family members. We were taking real red bricks and stacking them onto one another to create a real looking fireplace, firebox and all. The fireplace was topped by a wooden mantel that was stained a very dark cherry color. As we were finishing up the fireplace, my mother had just finished assembling the eight-foot artificial Christmas tree freeing her up to more onto window one. With the store employees help my brother and I continued to work on window two. We brought into the display, a glossy black rocking chair with a red velvet seat, an end table and old fashioned lamp to sit next to the rocking chair. We put the finishing touches on window two, stockings stuffed with store merchandise (boys and girls socks, underwear, and panties) hung on the mantel. I grabbed the two stockings that had the boys underwear and hung them just so I could see what sizes they were because we only sold one brand of boys briefs, Carter’s. It was easy to identify the size of the briefs in the stocking because there were white labels on the brief package indicating the size. I opened the stocking a bit and looked for this tag as I hung the stockings; there were two different sizes, one that I wore; size 14 and a size 12. As I hung the last stocking, I imagined that I was the boy who woke up Christmas morning and ran downstairs to find briefs in his stocking and this excited me. We then laid out dozens of wrapped packages under the Christmas tree some with ribbons and tie-ons and some with without. The store employees then took over and again laid out store merchandise on top of the packages to complete the display. Several boxes were left open, tissue paper pulled aside revealing the contents, boys dress pants, girls dresses, boys shirts, and both boys and girls jeans. Boys and girls winter jackets, hats, gloves, and scarves were also laid carefully under the tree displaying all the winter wear that the store had to offer. To finish out the window, a real looking Santa was placed into the rocking chair, a long list of “names” and “toys” placed in his hands that touched the floor, cookies on a plate, a glass of milk (milk of magnesia because real milk would spoil). Window two was done and it was all hands on deck on window one, the larger window display.
Window ones’ backdrop panels were hung by the time we all moved to that side of the store and large eye-hooks were now being screwed into the ceiling to support the large hanging sleigh and reindeer. With everyone’s help, the five-foot long, three-foot tall solid wood sleigh was suspended from its’ four corners by steel cables and was hung at an angle to simulate that the sleigh was making a decent. The two reindeer were then hung from the ceiling the same way as the sleigh was and once completed the sleigh and reindeer made a stunning display. We took a dozen or so cans of spray snow and covered both sleigh and reindeer until both were gleaming white and velvety soft feeling. My grandmother then sprinkled handful’s of silvery glitter over the sprayed-on snow, making the whole display shimmers in the dim lighting. Once the sleigh and reindeer were completed, we brought into the display a three by three by three solid wooden house that was placed under the sleigh to give the illusion that the sleigh was flying over the rooftop. The whole house was also coated with the same white velvety spay snow and silver glitter as the sleigh and reindeer were. After all the large pieces of the window display were installed, I worked on assembling one of many artificial Christmas trees that were to be added to the display, some with lights and some without, in all, a total of eight. The trees were set into the window and some were given a coating of white snow while the other were sprinkled with plastic “snow pieces” mixed with silver glitter, the effect had looked very real and made it look like a new fallen snow had just covered the trees. Boy and girl mannequins were added to the display dressed in winter wear that was for sale inside the store and in their hands; snowballs made from Styrofoam balls. Un-rapped presents were put into a giant green velvet bag with a gold braided draw string that was handmade by my grandmother and placed into the back of the sleigh. Additional wrapped packages wear stacked in the back of the sleigh mixed with various merchandise that that store sells, children’s clothing, baby rattles and toys, gloves, mittens, boys and girls dress cloths for the holidays and my favorite, boys underwear packages. I was able to help with loading the sleigh so I took the Carter’s underwear packages and inter-mingled them with the other items, the whole time; imagining that Santa was on his way to my house bringing me new fresh white briefs. The window was trimming was rounded out with white cotton and polyester batting that was placed on the window floor in such a way that it resembled freshly fallen drifted snow. The whole display was sprinkled with silver glitter making the floor shimmer. To complete the window displays, the widows were sprayed on the outside with a heavy coating of white spay snow. The overall look and feel was one right out of a storybook!
During the cleanup near the end of the day, I snuck off into the back room by myself. I had been “teased” all day long working with and seeing underwear and with my elevated state of excitement, I had to do something; but what?
I was always “turned-on” by the thought of wearing briefs larger than what I wore at the time which was a size 14. Unfortunately, the store only sold boys sizes so I could not try a men’s size and my mother and grandmother would think I’m nuts to suggest on buying some for me so I did the next best thing, the only thing that I could think of. In the back room, shelves were stacked with additional stock to put onto the sales floor so I rummaged around the boxes until I found the Carters’ boys underwear boxes. The boxes were labeled by size so I scanned them all for the size that I was looking for, a size 18. I opened the box, snuck out a new package and tucked them under my shirt and ran into the bathroom. In the bathroom, I ripped open the package, pulled the clear tape off the underwear that kept them neatly folded together, separated the three briefs, pulled off my own pants and underwear, and slipped on the size 18s. To my amazement, the larger briefs almost fit me perfectly and I wondered why I was wearing a size 14, I clearly needed a wear larger briefs. I put on my pants, tucked the opened package of briefs into my waistband, opened the back door used for deliveries and tossed my old undies into the garbage dumpster in the back alley of the store. Now, what to do with the underwear that I opened? I did the only thing that a kid of ten or eleven could think of doing, hiding them, so I hid them in an old display fixture that had drawers in it which had not been used in years. I shoved the briefs and opened packed deep into the back of the deep wide drawer, closed it; and thought that the next time that I was working the store that I would have another pair to wear. It never occurred to me that my mother would soon realize what I was doing because she did the laundry and sometime after Christmas she approached me to ask where I got the size 18 briefs. I could lie but what would I say, they just appeared? I could tell the truth, that working on the Christmas windows and handling the underwear turned me on so much that I stole a package to see if a larger size would fit me but I didn’t want to get into trouble and seem like a “freak” so I said the next best thing, “Mom, while working on the window trimming, my underwear kept crawling up my but and the waistband is too tight” “I was uncomfortable, so I grabbed a larger pair to wear”. I think she bought the story because I didn’t get yelled at or grounded. It was weeks later while we were eating dinner that my grandmother came home from the store, placed the opened package of briefs that I had stashed in the back of the drawer on the kitchen counter and said, “I found these as we were putting away the Christmas decorations, I thought you might be able to wear them”. I was both embarrassed and elated at the same time wondering what my mother and grandmother thought but yet excited for I now officially graduated to a larger size, a size that was comparable to a men’s small.. a size 30. I was growing up.
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Sneeking my Uncles’ Underwear From the Laundry

When I was between the ages eight and nine, my uncle had moved back home with his mother, my grandmother. My mother had moved back home after the divorce from my father and my uncle moved back home because he gave up his apartment and was getting married at age twenty-two. My grandmother had a large home, so we all had separate bedrooms with additional ones in the basement.
Once my uncle moved back home, he took over the basement bedroom that was adjacent to my brothers and my playroom area, the laundry area was next to the playroom. In the laundry room, there were three distinct laundry baskets, my brothers and mine, my mothers and grandmothers, and my uncles. I remember playing hide and seek with my brother one day, where I hid in the laundry baskets and put the clothes over me to make me look like I was “the dirty laundry”. My brother, who was a year and a half younger that I, could not find me, so he yelled out, “I quit” and went upstairs. I pushed the laundry off of me and it spilled all over the basement floor exposing something that caught my interest. I picked up my uncles Hanes underwear, size 28. This excited me because I did not wear Hanes, the ones with the back-red-black stripes on the waistband; I wore Carters, and the Hanes were like the ones I had seen in the retail store ads and the same ones that I had cut the pictures out of that my mother had found.
I picked up the briefs off the basement floor and held them up to me, as if I were modeling them. I walked over to the full sized mirror on the back of the door and again, held them up over my clothes and tried to picture how they would look on me when all of a sudden I heard the basement door open and someone coming down the stairs. I tossed the briefs back into the basket and ran into my playroom. Just as I sat down on the floor, my mother walks in to tell my lunch is ready, we head upstairs. All afternoon and night I kept thinking how I would look in those briefs, how they would feel on me, how I could get away with trying them on. Then I had an idea.
Every morning after my uncle would leave for work which was around 7am, I would quietly sneak downstairs and into the laundry room. I would grab the briefs from the basket, strip off my pajama bottoms and my own underwear and pull on my uncles Hanes briefs; walk over to the full length mirror and see how they looked on me. This continued for quite some time and from time to time I would even intentionally “pee” a bit in them which excited me! It never occurred to me that someone might actually notice that the briefs were peed in and one early Saturday morning as I when to open the basement door; I found it locked! Yes, locked! How could this be? Had someone found out about my morning escapades? There was never any mention to me or anyone else as to why the basement door became mysteriously locked and needless to say, this ended my rendezvous with the laundry baskets.
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My Mom: "Where Did You Get All Those Pictures of boys and men in underwear?"

 A continuation from last weeks post……

Besides the big department store catalogs, I had another source in which I was able to sneak a peek at men and boys in their underwear when I was a boy and unlike the store catalogs that were issued every several months the store sale ads came weekly! The best part of this was that the men and boys who modeled the underwear in these ads were always different. To me this was exciting.

 Unlike the department store catalogs, where I could not “clip” the pictures out because the catalog(s) were kept for months; the sale ads were a different story. They were thrown away weekly! By the end of the week, my mother had her shopping list made out with the items that she needed to buy and where to get them. This “list” was created with all the sale ads that had been delivered by mail throughout the week and by the end of the week the sale ads were put into the garbage. Actually, now that I think about it; they went into the brown paper bags located in kitchen “broom closet” and were saved for recycling along with all the pretty colored glass jars and shiny metal cans. Twice a week, I would go into the closet and rummage through the brown paper bags looking for the underwear models that were in the sale ads and once I found them all, I would clip them out of the pages. Typically, I would “clip” three to four pictures per week, making my collection grow very large! Kmart had them as well as Zayres, Venture, Sears, JC Pennys, Carson Pirie Scott, and several other smaller stores.

After cutting the men and boys in underwear out, I would mix the cuttings and extra pages that I didn’t need into the other newspapers in the brown bags for recycling so my mother would not “know” what I was up to if see had seen the ads all cut up.I snuck out of the closet, making sure nobody saw me and darted to my room with my pictures. After looking all around the bedroom, under the bed and in the closet for my brother to make sure he wasn’t there, I would quietly close the door. I would lay all my pictures out on the bed in a sort of “underwear mosaic”, strip to my underwear and lay on the bed on my belly, staring at the pictures. Doing this was always dangerous as my brother or mother could barge in at any time but that risk was worth my reward. I would lay there and “hump” my bed or pillow while looking at the underwear models from the sale ads. Sometimes this lasted a few minutes or for quite some time and it seemed to depend on my level of excitement that I felt.I didn’t realize it until I was older, but I was humping to a point of dry orgasm.

After I was finished, I took my pictures and hid them in a place where no one could find them, my underwear drawer. I hid them under a pile of t shirts and hanky’s that a rarely used and therefore my mother would never look there. At least for several years…UNTIL…..

I was about 12 years old, I had just come from school and heading the the kitchen for an after school snack. My mother had cut me off before I reached the kitchen, grabbing my arm and dragging me down the hallway to my bedroom. She  shut the door. She was whispering something to herself…something about mad as hell and wanted to “take care of this” before my brother came home. She headed to my dresser, my heart pounded, why was she going there? She opened my top drawer, my underwear drawer…took out something that I could not yet see but I knew what it was. My heart sank. With that, my mother whirled around on her heels and holds the sale ad underwear pictures out and says, “Who are these boys and Men?” “How did you take their pictures?” “Who’s camera did you use?” She was furious…..her face fire red, her voice cracking as she yelled at me. I was stunned, confused, hurt, and most of all EMBARRASSED! The only thing that I could manage to say in that moment was, “I didn’t take those pictures mom!”  her reply came swiftly, “Then where you you get them?”. I said, “I cut them out of the sale ads every week”. She sighed, turned around and headed for the bedroom door. Just before opening it, she turned back to me and said. “Your grounded for a week!” and she walked out….she walked out carrying all my cherished pictures that I had collected for many years. I never saw them again. My mother taking those pictures away from me hurt me more than being grounded for a week.

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My True Underwear Stories From Childhood Until Now

Updated every Monday

Underwear in Catalogs    my first true “love”

At age six, I was a typical boy; creating blanket “forts” to hide from wild Indians, playing “cops and robbers” with my brother who was a year and a half younger than me, pretending to be a super hero, donning my cape and standing on the back of the couch in my underwear jumping from one couch to another, pretending that I was flying. On other days, my brother and me would embark on a long sailing journey out into the dark, shark infested waters, our mothers queen sized bed was our ship, a broom shored up by pillows; a make-shift mast, a towel taped to the top; our pirate flag. My life was fun and simple and I surround myself in magical worlds of plastic army men hiding out in “Lincoln Log” forts that I made for them, guarding it from the “enemies”. Castles with fire breathing dragons, a fold-out city in 3D to drive my matchbox cars around in, my “Etch-sketch”, which fascinated me to no end. All in all, I was THE typical boy…..with one exception, I had this “thing” for underwear.



As many parents have done for one hundred years, my mother also ordered from the Sears, Montgomery Wards, and the JC Penny’s catalogs and every few months, a new catalog from each store was mailed to the house, one for Fall, one for Spring/Summer, and the coveted Wish Book for Christmas, which was my favorite, almost an entire catalog dedicated to kids, proudly showcasing all the new toys and games for that year, any child’s dream! I shared the same excitement as any other boy would have at that age when that catalog finally arrived but secretly I looking was looking forward to other things in these catalogs as well. 


I came home from school to find the Wish book sitting in the front foyer, on the shiny black “captains chest” mixed with other fliers and mail. I grabbed the Wish Book and took it to the bathroom with me. I had this “thing” about not using the boys room at school to go number two, so I waited until I got home to do that, I didn’t ‘trust” that the seats were clean and to this day, I still don’t. I opened the giant book that was resting in my lap as I sat on the toilet and started thumbing through the pages. Women’s clothes, yuck…..no, a bit further….getting closer, ah..mens’ pajamas and robes…..I can feel my heart beating faster, anticipating what the next pages would be. I turned the next several pages and there it was, two whole pages of men in white and colored underwear! I could hardly contain myself, heart beating fast, palms sweating, and this weird pulsating feeling in my “private area” which always made me good when I looked at these pictures. Rubbing myself “down there”, I would stare at these men in their briefs and when I had enough, I went to my next favorite section of the catalog, the boys section which thrilled me even more. I paged past the icky girls section, dresses…yuck! Girls had “germs” and ‘cooties” and just looking  at them in the catalog could cause these things to jump right off the pages of the catalog and onto me, infesting me. It never actually occurred to me at that time, that to avoid the women’s and girl’s section, all I had to do was start from the back of the catalog and work my way forwards. Silly Me! 

Finally, the boys section. Just a few more pages, and I know I am getting close to what I am looking for when the boys suits, pajamas, and robes come into view. 

I turn the page, and there in all its glory, the boys underwear section. Just at that moment, I feel that strange quiver in my private area again. By this time, I had finished my “duty” in the bathroom and was sitting on the bathroom floor Indian style, when the quivering feeling hit me “hard”. I grabbed a towel off the towel rack, placed it behind my head, a makeshift pillow, stretched out on the floor, and propped the big heavy book upon my chest, pages still open to the boys underwear section. I began to rub my private area….starting at these boys in underwear; imagining that they were my classmates and that I was able to see them in their undies. the thought of this excited me. A knock at the door….I jump up, pull up my briefs and pants, close the big book, just in time; as my brother barges in, crying that had to use the potty. At least it wasn’t mom….

This ritual continued for a very long time, into my early teens until sadly the stores; one by one stopped their catalog businesses.


To be continued…

For vintage catalog underwear pictures (updated often), please visit our web site. Take me to the briefs!





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How I Became an Underwear "Fanatic"

My Underwear Story……
Also posted on our Website

It all started with this 1976 Fruit of the Loom television commercial with the “Fruit guys” the old lady, and the “Super-band waistband”.

It was this commercial that sparked my interest in underwear. At age 10, I loved underwear……why you ask; well I am still searching for that answer 35 years later.

As a kid growing up, my grandparents had owned a children’s clothing store in Chicago since the 1930’s and I was always the best dressed kid on the block including my underwear. At that time I wore Carter’s brand white briefs because that’s the brand that was sold at my grandparents’ store, and I like them, they felt soft next to my skin and I loved the colorful stripes on the waistband, one red one blue.

On my twelfth birthday, grandma could always be counted on to give me a gift that had new white briefs in it and while most kids would throw them aside, embarrassed, I was happy and excited to get my new white briefs. I shredded off the wrapping paper, removed the box lid, and pulled apart the tissue paper held together with a gold sticky seal to get at my new briefs. What I was looking at was not my typical briefs and they sure as heck were not Carter’s brand, they were from JC Penny, I tossed them aside. Later that night, getting ready for bed; and after my shower, I pulled the briefs out of their box…ripped open the plastic package and put a new fresh gleaming white pair of briefs on and hopped into bed. Several minutes later I was trying to figure out why something felt different than my other briefs. These were softer and fit better than mine other ones. The legs bands were wider and so was the waistband, but there was something else…the backside felt different; it was softer and thicker and I liked it, it felt great. I crept out of bed and looked at the shredded package in the box, “JC Penny Boys Briefs size 16” “Double-seat” I loved these briefs. I wore these while playing sports too as they absorbed more sweat than my others had.

As Christmas 1978 came closer I added JC Penny double seat briefs to my Christmas list for grandma, she always knew and bought what I liked so I fully expected her to buy me those again. Christmas morning was awesome! Not only did grandma buy me those briefs again but mom never checked with grandma and bought me briefs too, but hers’ were Fruit of the Loom size 16. I spotted the waistband on these and instantly took a liking to them, mostly because of the waistband style, two double blue stripes on them. I think they look “cool”. I also had gotten briefs from mom on another birthday that was from Montgomery Wards and again I liked these too for the fit, comfort, softness, but more importantly, the waistband style and color…very cool!

As I got older, into my middle teens; the double seat briefs disappeared…grandma said the Penny’s’ had stopped making them…I was crushed. But hey, I still had the colored stripes and dashes on waistbands and I now made it a point to spot anyone with their undies showing over their pants too see what color stripes were on their waistbands. There were so many different kinds…I guess I never realized it. I also started getting different brands of briefs when I started working at age fifteen, Hanes, Jockey, and Sears but none compared to my JC Penny double seat briefs. Funny, the older I got the more I like undies…weird.

The early 1990’s were a terrible decade for me, at least as far as underwear was concerned. It seems that briefs were out and boxers were in, just like that over-night I wondered? The only type of person that I ever thought to wear boxers were the older men and my grandfather and I refused to be like them. How could this be……I figured it to be only a “phase” the younger generation was going through, and after a few years briefs would be back in fashion. By the late 1990’s, briefs were still banned from the drawers of all young people and even the twenty something’s were now wearing them. This was no fad it was here to stay…with people claiming that they were “free” and able to “breathe”. Free from what I thought…and they needed underwear to breathe? Strange…..I had to get a pair of these since everybody swears by them…just maybe they would “liberate” me as promised. I bought a pair of Joe Boxers and wore them to work. Throughout most of my day, I was miserable. These things didn’t absorb sweat like my briefs do since they just “hang” on you and don’t hug your body….I developed a rash on my inner thighs because of this. Every time I stood up and sat down, my family jewels would be crushed from being loose and get caught between my legs and don’t even get me started about running in boxers…ouch! This was liberation? I wasn’t free…I was in hell. They went into the garbage as soon as I got home, where after my shower I put my soft and comfy briefs on. Boxers also turned many a male into “Grabbers” “Pullers” and “Adjusters”, doing it in open public places without any consideration as to who was around. I guess when this is NO SUPPORT (like briefs give) one would have to grab and pull at one self.

Into to early 2000’s boxers were prevalent still and to my horror briefs were getting a make-over also. No longer were underwear manufacturers putting cool looking colored stripes on the waistbands of there brief’s they were stitching in their names and logos on the waistbands. I decided to rebel myself and refused to buy any brief that did not have a colored stripe on it, this is what I wanted, not some advertisement on the waistband. I switched back solely to JC Penny briefs, they were the only brand that still had colored stripes on them. As the early 2000’s passed on briefs once again took a hit and were branded “Tighty Whities”. Kids were teased, wedgie and picked on if they wore “Tighty Whities” and under peer pressure gave up their briefs for boxers. I figured this was the end of the brief, enter the boxer-brief.

Although I hated these underwear but decide to try them as I did with the boxers. Not good! If people thought briefs were tight and gave them up how could any one wear something that is tighter than briefs but in the legs! OUCH. And don’t even get me started about boxer-brief lines that show through a man’s pants and even worse looking, under suit pants.

It is 2011 and briefs are making a slight comeback minus the colored stripes on the waistband and double seat fabric, and that is a shame, that is the reason for the Old Skool Briefs! With Old Skool Briefs, you wont find our name plastered all over the waistband, instead you will find multiple styles with multiple colored stripes on them just like the ones from past. Old Skool Briefs are available in both single and double seat fabrics and are made of 100% soft absorbent cotton and are available in white only.