This is a post in the on-going but under-used "Early Beginnings" series. Click the link to see the other posts in the series.
When men or women ask me about fetishes I have, some of them are surprised to see "underwear" show up on my list. Some people don't really know what an underwear fetish is. I've been asked, "So do you, like, have sex with underwear then?" Not quite. How I define my underwear fetish is the way that I can get turned on by putting on a pair of underwear (or a jock--I count jocks as well) and the way a guy in a pair of tight undies can turn me on more than a guy standing in front of me naked and hard. And the arousal is different too. It feels different. For most people who have sex with me, it simply means that there is a longer period of time between the pants coming off and then the underwear coming off, and I may suck a guy through his boxer-briefs, if we both like it. But for other people with a similar fetish, it can mean one or both of us leaves our underwear of choice on the entire time during sex.
Out of all the various kinky and fetish-related things I do, this one might be the one I noticed and knew about first, though early on I didn't know what to call it or think about it.
I've mentioned before on this blog that I'm really not a fan of boxers. I don't like how they bunch up, I don't like how they feel, and I don't like how they look. Especially on me. I've also mentioned that when I was younger, it was pretty much all briefs, all the time for me. I had the white, FTL or Hanes variety, and that was it. For the longest time I didn't even know there were other kinds. When I was younger, I didn't shop for myself (obviously), and I hardly ever went with my parents to buy me clothes, unless I had recently outgrown some of my older stuff and needed to try things on. So I just had underwear in my drawer that my parents had bought me and that was it.
I don't remember exactly when it happened, it was so long ago, but there was a time when I did start to accompany my parents to shop for clothes. At first, I dreaded it. But I had grown to the point where I could shop in the adult clothing section (I grew fast), and that was when I discovered the pictures on the bags of underwear my parents were buying for me. Attractive men in nothing but a pair of white jockeys were staring up at me as I helped my mother carry things to the register, and I couldn't stop looking. Every time I did look, I got a sensation in my groin, I had an urge to jerk off to the pictures. I would get home, and under the pretense of putting my new clothes away, put on the underwear and pretend that I looked like the man in the picture. Then I would jerk off imagining the man in the picture.
Around this same time I started noticing what other guys were wearing for underwear. I was taking swim lessons (not yet old enough to join a swim team, but getting there) and in the locker room I would try to check out other guys, both the boys in my class with me and the older men changing. For the most part I wasn't quite able to get a good look. I was one of the older kids and those who hung around and didn't hide their changing with a towel generally all wore white briefs like I did.
But then one day I was talking with a boy who was in the same level as I was, but seemed to be at least a year younger than me, though he could have just been a late bloomer. While I was talking to him, he pulled out a pair of briefs. But these were different. They were colored. And I was floored. I may have let my eyes stay down a bit too long, but if he noticed, he didn't tell. I wanted to ask him where he got them, or why they were colored, or a whole manner of other questions. But I got the sense that I shouldn't ask things like that. Still, I was intrigued, and the memory didn't go away. Every time I looked in my drawer at the neatly folded white pairs, I would wish I had something more exciting. Something colored.
The next time I was at the store, I drifted away from my mom, which was not that unusual when shopping, and found my way to the underwear isle. It was like I had stumbled into a new world. There were briefs of ever color and pattern, there were bikinis, there were boxer briefs, there were pairs so small that the men on the cover may as well have been naked. And I was in heaven. I wanted, more than anything, to have all those different, colored pairs. I wanted to walk around the house in just them. Stand by the sink like the guy on one cover. Or be outside on some rocks in the desert like another. I would look and feels sexy, and I wanted to feel that way.
I started noticing underwear more and more, sneaking into lockers to see what guys were wearing. Fantasizing about men I saw in the locker room. Going through the drawers in my dad's dresser where he kept a lot of his porn and sexy underwear (which is an entirely different post) and trying on the thin pieces of cloth he had there, looking at the thongs and studded pouches advertised in the back of his Penthouses and other magazines. I even used a sewing kit to tailor a jock strap pouch just a bit tighter so I could feel like I was wearing something more like the sexy ones I have now, instead of the big, athletic pouches I had for baseball.
This was all very early on for me, back before I was twelve. I got much more into underwear later on, but those are stories for other posts.