I wrote this a few months ago, after my first Bi experience. It didn't pan out as planned but wow, I want to repeat it all

Up until today Clive had never been seen naked by another man, yet alone touched one and been touched by one. But, in the spirit of the Bucket List and this growing curiosity, Clive has been very very brave (for him, anyway) and managed to tick off three things from that 'Kick Tick' list:-

To touch a man, feel him grow in my hands, stroke and fondle him

To be touched by a man

To kneel before a man, naked or pantied and to suck his cock and lick his balls

Clive met 'M' on line, in one of those kinky community sites. They had a whole lot in common, similar age, similar knickers, similar curiosities and similar vanilla interests. They hit it off through an exchange of emails and arranged for Clive to visit M (about an hours drive away) when an opportunity arose

And it wasn't just an opportunity that arose that day!!

For days before the visit Clive agonised over it - would the things that excited him to think about really excite him in the flesh?, Could he go through with it?, Would he find the whole thing sordid and distasteful?, would he even get hard!? Clive even started thinking about 'get out clauses' - a string of plausible and implausible excuses that he could use if he decided to bottle out. You know the type of thing - "Puncture", "Lost the car keys", "Granny died", "Man flue" etc. etc..

But that wouldn't be fair on M and it wouldn't help the 'bucket list'. Besides, M wrote to say how much he was looking forward to spanking Clive's bottom. That sealed the deal!

Clive swallowed hard, made the journey and knocked on M's door - very nervously.

Now, the first thing English gentleman do in such circumstance, to become better acquainted and to break the ice is to share a nice cup of tea!!

They made small talk, skirting around the very large elephant in the room, painfully. M told Clive that he had a fold-away massage table, should we start there? Clive thought, mmm, that sounds nice but he didn't want this to be all one-way, he really wanted to excite and titillate M

"That sounds lovely, M, but can I take your clothes off please"?

"OK, if you like"

And so, ice broken, things started. Remember, Clive had never touched a man before, and had never been touched. But, he displayed no hesitation in stripping M down to his boxers, fondling his hairy chest along the way.

But Boxers'!!! - M explained that Clive had arrived a little early and suggested he slip into something a little more comfortable. He returned wearing a pair of lilac coloured lace knickers uncannily similar to the ones Clive was wearing hidden under his jeans!

Clive felt his first cock, Oooo it was such a dinky one too. Clive had always assumed that every man's cock was larger than his own! quite a revelation to discover he was the big boy here, despite the fact that at 6'4" M towered over Clive by almost 6". As Clive began to fondle and play with M's hard cock, fascinated by the texture and feel of it (unlike Clive's willy, this one was 'cut') he grew more confident and assured. After all, he no longer had to feel abashed by the size of his own willy, knowing that he measured up admirably in this particular comparison

M swiftly undressed Clive and now both were stood, toe to toe, in almost matching lilac knickers, playing with unfamiliar cocks. And, wow - did Clive get hard!! - Mr. Willy had found a little friend, they nuzzled into each other, sizing each other up and enjoying all the attention.

Now the massage - Clive had to lose his panties, Willy pointing proudly out as he climbed onto the massage table. In fact, Willy protested quite strongly when Clive squashed him painfully trying to lie on his tummy. Oils were applied, and Clive relished the feeling of a man's hands exploring his every nook and cranny. By the time he flipped over on to his back willy was quivering with excitement.

Clive reached out to grab hold of M's erect cock and held on firmly to this as waves of arousal coursed through Clive's body. He spread his legs, opened himself up to such wonderful ministrations. Phew. Just when Clive was on the very edge he swung off the table - he didn't want to cum too soon. Clive had conditioned himself to always cum after his wife had reached orgasm - and that is a hard rule to break.

Clive reached for a condom, slipped it over M's stiff cock, knelt between his legs and......

Clive sucked his first cock

And he enjoyed it!! - Clive thought that he would enjoy it because of the humility and humiliation implied by the act, but, in fact he enjoyed it because of the obvious pleasure he was giving to M!. Clive didn't hold back, bobbing his head up and down, licking M's balls and relishing the moans escaping from M's lips.

M, at the point of collapse, suggested that he lie down on the massage table, which he did. Clive set to work again, with his hands - exploring every inch, sucking M's nipples while fondling his balls, stroking his cock and eventually fingering his anus. M became quite abandoned at this stage, spreading his legs wide and lifting his knees high. Clive got the message and clambered up on the massage table kneeling between M's spread legs. Both the table, and M let out an audible groan. The table held and M lifted his legs way up into the air, spread them wide and reached for Clive, pulling Clive's willy towards his own bottom.

It was clear that he wanted Clive to go a whole lot further!! but Clive never dreamed he would ever ever want to do such a thing, not this way around, the one fucking rather than being fucked. This was never close to getting anywhere near his bucket list! He had watched 'deliverance' far too often!! (Clive always harboured a secret longing to be the squealer rather than the mountain man) But Clive was amazed at how hard his own willy was!! He went along with the moment, leaning over for another condom and in a very hoarse voice he asked

"Do you want me to fuck you, M?"

M nodded vigorously and Clive's willy rose to the task, driving in with surprising enthusiasm

So, Clive went well beyond his bucket list and fucked a bloke in the arse (to put it far too strongly)

Clive and M then enjoyed another cup of tea!

As Clive sipped his tea he began to realise the enormity of what had gone before in questioning the very essence of Clive - was he really, truly, submissive? and how can he square that with the 'top' role that naturally came about with M? That really puzzled him. And another puzzle, He wasn't physically attracted to M (or any bloke, for that matter) but he loved touching him and playing with him - so, is he bi-sexual or just a complete sex addict in whatever shape or form?

A final thought, Why have I written this in the third person? Am I unconsciously trying to distance myself from Clive's antics? Am I struggling to keep up with him? Am I nervous of his new-found courage? Hmmm interesting!

Why do I wear Pink Panties?

This is the question I am most often asked.
I am a bloke - I don't consider myself a transvestite, not even a cross dresser. I am by and large (hmm, small) a straight guy, with just a few kinks. I am a little bi-curious but I think that has more to do with my love of humiliation and need to serve. So Why do I wear the 'pinks'


Yes, I really do enjoy wearing knickers - and pink ones at that – despite not liking that colour! I have skirted around (apologies for the pun) this issue before and introduced various plausible reasons. But to explore further, I have come up with a number of answers, some contradictory perhaps, others complimentary. I believe all of them play a part

EMASCULATION

I mean in the metaphorical sense of the word – not in any desire to be castrated! In wearing Panties I feel less of a man. Indeed “Wearing your Wife’s Knickers’ has come to imply ‘hen pecked’, under her thumb etc. and this obviously dovetails nicely with my submissive nature and my unrealised desire to be the subservient husband to a dominant wife

FEMINISATION

In my view I am not a transvestite or sissy. I have no desire to be 'feminized'. I don’t even consider myself a ‘Cross Dresser’. But perhaps I am not really being truthful with myself here.

In my post [url]http://cliveskink.blogspot.com/2010/12/where-did-this-all-come-from.html[/url] I confessed about acquiring a pair of gym knickers and a pleated skirt when I was at school. I also discussed my comparatively feminine physique and hairless body and so perhaps there is a feminine side that is anxious to get out?

Recently I have experimented beyond the panties – trying on some of my wife’s other clothing (I look ridiculous). I have certainly fantasized about xxxxxx feminisation. But I do believe that this is nothing to do with wanting to be female, but more to do with the humiliation and emasculation that is associated with a bloke in a frock

HUMILIATION

As discussed in my post [URL]http://cliveskink.blogspot.com/2011/02/bring-on-blushes.html[/URL] what one person finds as shameful and humiliating another may not – it will very much depend on the society in which they live, their own moral and behavioural codes and standards

For me, as a very conservative, old fashioned Englishman and as a man involved in ‘macho’ adventurous activities and considered as a dare devil leader, the wearing of panties is emasculating. I feel a delicious sense of humiliation knowing that I am wearing them and sharing this with others.

One Blogger raised a question that I still ponder – how can you find it Humiliating if no one ever sees you wearing them?. That is a difficult one isn’t it – Perhaps a very private humiliation

ADRENALINE
In my post [url]http://cliveskink.blogspot.com/2011/01/expeditions-in-panties-dichotomy-in.html[/url] I also introduce the excitement that I feel when wearing panties. I love the adrenaline of some 'extreme' sports. The very thought of being 'discovered' wearing ladies knickers provides an additional level of risk and, thus, adrenaline

TRADE MARK BRANDING

Pink Panties has almost become my trademark, Clive’s Brand so to speak – obviously because my love of wearing panties has shone through my blog, my profile pages and my images. And I have discussed it, posted about it, chatted about it so often. Pink Panties is almost synonymous with who I am in the kink world. Theoretically, then, perhaps I now enjoy wearing them for this very reason – to perpetuate the brand, live up to the persona I have created!

Ah, but, which came first, the chicken or the egg! Indeed, I have, on occasions, tried to break away from pantie wearing, to ditch this ridiculous image. No, I don’t wear them because it is now ‘expected’ of me.

HUMOUR AND/OR THE DICHOTOMY

I love to laugh and smile. And I smile most when I am wearing Pink Panties!! I once, for example, thoroughly enjoyed performing a sailor’s hornpipe dance in the 'pinks' on cam for a giggling mistress

I also find the dichotomy between the ‘VAnilla world’ me and the (perhaps real) hidden me so amusing, so titillating and so downright deliciously kinky

At the end of the day, who cares what the reason is. Suffice to say I find wearing panties very arousing, delightfully 'naughty' and exciting. I also find them very comfortable!! - the material is generally softer and lighter (it packs smaller too!)
.
But I am still a bloke and proud to be a bloke, a straight one (or, perhaps just a tad wonky) at that - just a bloke in panties. So what!!