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Looking Back - my sexual awakening as a youngster . . .
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Now that I have entered into the riper years, I sometimes look back and ponder just when and how my sexual awakening took place. It sometimes seems like only yesterday . . . . . .
The initial stiring seems to have started when I was a 10 year old lad. I have vague memories of discovering the fascination
of browsing through the Sears catalogue, and examining the lingerie and corsetry pages in minute detail. The illustrations
in those days were mostly monochrome line drawings. The ladies depicted were unlike any real person I knew at that
tender age. They seemed almost alien in appearance, clad in corsetry like armour plating. It was beyond my undeveloped
but rapidly evolving mind at that age to imagine why the opposite sex actually wore such garments, or indeed how. . . . .
That is, until playing with my train set one warm fall afternoon. I was a young, avid railroad enthusiast. With the track laid out,
I was busy and content to manage the complexities of scheduling two locomotives and rollingstock through the switches
and sidings, spread out over the carpeted living room floor. An only child, I was content to stretch my imagination, and play
on my own for hours.
Once a week, regular as clockwork, Mom's older sister, Aunt Peg used to visit for coffee, cake and a catch-up of gossip. All
totally boring to this ten year old to find anything of interest in their adult chat. So I was quite happy to play with my trains in
the comfort of their company and against the background drone of their conversation. Aware of their presence, I'd glance up
occassionally at my Aunt Peg who was sitting in one of the arm chairs, totally engrossed in chat with Mom and oblivious to me.
So it was, on that warm afternoonAunt Peg shifted in her armchair as their conversation became more animated, and from my
vantage point on the floor I was suddenly presented with a clear view up her dress. Trains were no longer a priority. My gaze
wandered up between her thighs to her crotch. And there it all was, all laid out before me, live. Her flesh coloured stockings ended
to reveal a small patch of pale white thigh. The tops of her stockings had garters attached to them, and they seemed to disappear
inside white corset legs that tightly encased her, and on to where I supposed her willie must have been . . . . .
Guilt and embarrassment made me turn away and blush before my Aunt noticed, but in that moment, enough had been
revealed to me to spark a lifelong fascination and love of lingerie, and the older ladies in my family.
Shortly after that the catalogues stopped arriving, and I was deprived of my education.
But more, so much more was to follow.
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Posted on : May 8, 2010
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