It was the early 60’s and I was 14 and staying for a short time at my grandmother’s (who I am sure would have worn director knickers) and her daughter Ann, who was 18 at the time.
When Ann went out one evening with her boyfriend, Ray, I saw she had on a yellow print flared skirt and a white blouse with an elasticised belt; I was very taken with all the layers of net she had on under her skirt and, as she went out down the path, I could see the bottom of her multi-layered petticoats showing below the hem, which I found fascinating. A little while later I was able to sneak into her bedroom. Lying on her bed was a bra and a pair of white panties with some lace round the legs. Praying that no one would come upstairs, I ran my hands over the silky nylon of the panties. I looked round the room and spotted a slip of white lacy material peeping out of the closed wardrobe door.