to feel guilty about it but I don't any longer. I know that sounds strange for me to say about my Mom but my best Whenever I do my laundry, I fold my clothes straight out of thedryerto avoid wrinkling and if I wait I probably wont fold them so it's just convenient. Sometimes I'm busy and I don't put themaway right away. For the past 6 or so months I've noticed that when I go to put them away some of my underwear are missing but I thought nothing of it (maybe I didn't wash them? Maybe dryer ate them? Maybe in hubbies nightstand? lol) until a month ago I washed almost all of my underwear at the same time and out of about 15-20 pairs only 3 of them were there. I was forced to go buy new underwear when I had just bought brand new ones. Well my mom in law is cleaning out my nephews' room(me and DH live with his parents and 3 nephews, oldest, david, is 12) I gave him a look that said not to go any further. Eddie was still working on her other foot, gently nibbling

As I did not attend a mixed school my experiences were sadly too few and far between. In fact, most of them were during out of school hours – on the farm where my same age friend lived. He had a sister two years older, who would sometimes bring two or three girls home after school to play around.her pussy leaving a big stream that had to be cleaned up. I told him to get something to clean it off in case she woke

I've been enjoying her toes and feet for as long as I can remember. She's a very heavy sleeper since she Then, I got the pantyhose. I had never worn them before but always wanted to wear one. This was my best chance. So, slowly I put them on. I struggled to get it on because the alignment always got wrong. With quite a bit of effort, I finally got the pantyhose on. It was an intense feeling that I had never experienced before. I completely fell in love with how it felt on my legs. Lastly, I put on my mom’s heels and my feet could fit in them. It felt amazing. I grew up the oldest of four, with a sister two years younger and brothers five and eight years younger. Though my parents were 1960s liberal types, they were anything but when it came to raising kids, and both were firm believers in the effectiveness of a warm bottom in maintaining discipline. There wasn’t any opportunity for stopping to sit on the ground for although it was high summer and warm it had rained earlier so everywhere outdoors was soaking wet, and in any case kids of our age didn’t shag. So very soon we found ourselves almost at her house. I walked her down the garden path to the huge, dark porch that covered the front door. As soon as we got there Pamela turned towards me and we immediately started kissing – for me, quite passionately. As we broke for air, Pamela whispered that although her parents seemed to have gone to bed she did not think she should invite me in as she had to go to work the next day – to a job she had only just started. One night John takes his girlfriend home. Whilst they are kissing each other goodnight at the front door they both start to feel really aroused. With an air of confidence, he leans with his hand against the wall,

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does take a pill to help her sleep she has no idea that I worship her toes (and feet) while she's sleeping. I used I started crossdressing at a young age. A movie I saw once about a boy who was dressed as a girl by his mother got me very curious about dressing up. One time, I secretly got dressed in one of my mother’s dress when I was 12 years old. I simply loved the sensation and my desire to feel & look feminine grew with time. Sorry, but to paraphrase Jules Wingfield in "Pulp Fiction" that aint the same ball park, that aint the same league that aint the same Your (of legal age) teenage daughter without her knowing? That is wonderful right? How about I shoot my seed all over your sister without her knowledge or

By the way, I understand your point of view about showing respect for his mom. He did show some restraint by not cumming on her feet himself. But remember she's a real heavy sleeper, as Eddie and I already knew. Eddie just continued with his usual shrimping. I thought I heard a slight moan from my Mom as if sub-consciously she felt what was happening. The dress that my mom wore the night before was lying on the bed. It immediately caught my eyes. It was a burgundy bodycon dress with a cut on the front side. I also found her bra, pantyhose and heels lying in one corner of the room. It was already making me tingle with excitement just thinking about putting them on .

Mom did not offer much of a lecture. “You both know why you’re getting this. You both are too old to be fighting and carrying on over something like this – and so you know, I don’t approve at all of some of the language I heard.” one thing, anyone who has cum on a woman's feet is cumming on the feet of someones daughter, sister, maybe mother, and possibly wife. Kind of like Mom was a big believer in household chores as a way to build responsibility and have us contribute to the household. Cleaning up the kitchen after dinner had been one of my assignments since I was 12. My sister was added to that rotation when she reached 12 and for the better part of the year, we had been sharing the duties.

They went all the way past my belly button, giving my bump a much needed hug, were generously cut to spread over my ever-expanding derriere, without so much of a sniff of a wedgie. They made me feel safe and loved and warm.

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She was clearly very distressed so I rushed over and helped her to her feet. I said, “Let’s get out of here”, and sure enough we were soon heading out in the darkness towards the lane, at the end of which she lived. I slipped my arm around her shoulder and she immediately responded by throwing her arm tightly round my waist, suggesting she fancied me. One day, I was alone in the house. My parents had went to a party the night before and both of them were off to work that day. I had a holiday break after completing my school exam. I went into my parent’s bedroom to find if there was any mom’s clothes I could try on. Mom told us: “I don’t like the foul language I’ve been hearing from both of you and this will be a reminder.” I returned the clothes to my mom and she said if I wanted to talk about it. I said I was sorry and just wanted to know how it felt to wear a dress. She agreed to not tell dad and after that moment I made sure to never get caught like that. My mom didn’t asked me about it again and I think I feel more comfortable like that. The last incident I remember was shortly after I turned 15 and she was 13 – and as it usually did, the trouble began with a petty argument that escalated into a major conflict.