I wore the shift dress until mid afternoon, at which point my aunt suggested I should try the skirt suit. She accompanied me to my room and unzipped my dress for me. I stepped out of it and hung it on its hanger. My aunt opened my drawer and removed the white French knickers and the beige thong, as well as the frilly blue knicker and bra set. I removed my slip and hastily pulled off the tan tights. “Be careful with those or you’ll ladder them.” my aunt snapped.
“Sorry.” I said as I instantly began to handle them more carefully. I placed them gently on the bed and looked at the two sets of underwear my aunt had removed from my drawer. “Which of those am I wearing?” I asked.
“Your French knickers of course.” my aunt replied, “But I’d like to see how these look first.” she said as she placed the little blue knickers in front of me.
I peeled my girdle off to reveal my naked and hairless body. For an adult I don’t half look like a boy down there. I pulled the little blue panties up my legs and tucked myself into them. They barely covered my bits and were far skimpier than my old briefs (I’ve always worn ‘big’ knickers). The little blue knickers offered no control nor did they flatten my bulge, but for that they feel very comfortable. The bra also felt very comfy thanks to it not being a size smaller than I need, but with its layers of lace covering the flat cups and the dainty bows on its straps, it’s ten times more feminine than my others. Not surprisingly, my aunt was delighted with how nice they looked on me. “You could wear those as a bikini.” she suggested.
“I can’t wear them as a bikini Auntie!” I gulped.
“Of course you could.” she replied. “You’d be fine in the garden. No one would see.”
An image entered my mind of me laying on a sun lounger in the back garden, wearing nothing but these scant panties and the matching frilly bra. She’s right that they could be worn as a bikini, but that doesn’t mean they should be worn as a bikini.
Once my aunt had had her fill of me shyly modelling my new frilly undies, I swapped the little knickers for the beige (or ‘nude’) thong. This felt very strange as I’d only ever worn briefs before. Unlike my skimpy knickers, the tight fitting thong did flatten me. There’s something very off putting about the pale beige lace that decorates its waistband and the front part of the leg holes. I was glad to cover it with the big silky French knickers which hung more like a skirt than a pair of boxer shorts. I donned one of my bras and the new camisole, followed by one of my blouses. “Don’t I need tights?” I asked as my aunt passed me the skirt.
“Not with French knickers.” she said as I took the skirt from her. I stepped into it and pulled it to my waist. “Ideally you want stockings or hold-ups.” my aunt said as I fastened and straightened it. “Or a tan… your legs would look quite nice if they weren’t so pale.” she added.
I pushed my arms into the jacket’s sleeves and fastened the buttons. On looking at my reflection, I knew that I looked like a librarian… and its not a good look for a guy in his twenties. My aunt, predictably said I looked nice and smart, and very business like. “You should wear that for work.” she said. “It’ll make a nice change from your trouser suit.”
I bit my lip. “I’m not sure if this’d go down too well at work.” I said. “As it stands I don’t think they’re too impressed with my appearance… I think a skirt would be a step too far.”
“There are equality laws William.” my aunt informed me, “They can’t discriminate against you.”
I spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening wearing my new skirt, but did remove the jacket as it felt surplus indoors. I kind of liked the way it swished against my hairless legs, and with the absence of my knee high tights, looked a lot better than it did in the charity shop. But that doesn’t mean it’s the sort of thing I’d want to step out of the house wearing, let alone enter the office.
On Sunday at my aunts request, I wore my new skirt all day long. My aunt loaned me one of her blouses which has a high collar and a lace yoke. I wore one of my camisoles between the blouse and bra. She also insisted I wear my new frilly fru-fru knickers which, whilst horrendous to look at, are far more comfortable than the control garments I usually wear.