Knickers in a Twist

Peter likes to wear frilly underwear. He can’t understand why people should care about that, but they do. He longs for a man who is willing to accept him, someone who can love him for who he is and not think that he is weak because of what he wears underneath his clothes. But where to find such a man?

Alex is managing his sister’s lingerie shop when he sees a man worshipping a pair of panties, and it pisses him off. He wants the man to look at him in the same way he looks at that flimsy lingerie. But why would a proper-looking man ever see him as anything other than a failure?

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Oh, that felt nice. He fingered the cool, silky fabric. The colour would look so good on him, creamy champagne against his golden skin. The stretchy lace waistband seemed comfortable and would’ve hugged his hips perfectly. They would’ve been perfect, if they had been made for a man, that is. He stretched the lace, tested it. Yes, it would have felt nice to put them on.

“May I help you?”

Peter jumped, startled. The shop assistant had materialised out of nowhere. She was wearing heels, which should have alerted him to her presence, but he hadn’t heard her coming. He stared at her and tried desperately to come up with a casual response. “Eh…” He didn’t blush, he did not, but his face felt a little too warm for him to really believe it.

The assistant fixed her gaze on the white-knuckled hand that clenched the crumpled silk. “No, thank you. Just looking around,” Peter managed, a little breathlessly. He would be looking for the exit as soon as he could convince his hand to release the amazing fabric.

“Looking for something for your girlfriend? We have the most beautiful longline corset that came in yesterday. I would die to have one. If that’s a bit too much, then we have some new balcony bras in wonderful colours, some lace demi-cups and a few new contour bras, all with matching panties and some with matching suspender belts.”

Suspender belts. Oh, that would be nice. He would love to have a suspender belt. No, snap out of it! Focus on bras. Peter stared at her. He knew nothing about bras, and he had no intention of learning. “Err, no, thank you. I was just looking around. I’ll go now.”

“Come back any time,” she said with an amused smile.

Did she know? She looked like she knew, but how could she? No, it didn’t show on the outside. He looked down at his thighs. No line was visible. Peter was always cautious. A revealing line could give him away if he wasn’t careful. His finger found the barely-there lace-top of his thigh-highs, but it wasn’t visible. The trousers stretched uninterrupted with each step he took; they weren’t catching on anything. He looked proper in his suit, he was sure of it. No one would know just by looking at him.

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