Day 1
My Bestfriend Preston and I had finally gotten to our dorm room at ten o’clock at night. My dad had helped us move all our stuff in the second half of the day after he got off work. As we got settled into our new home, the little 16ft by 12ft room, we noticed something was missing – a second bed.
I went to the front desk and told the girl our dilemma. She apologized and said it was a simple oversight and that the second bed would be delivered to our room in the morning. But that night, since it was so late, we’d just have to deal with it. I volunteered to sleep on the floor the first night, but it was impossible.
There was no carpet – only hard flooring, finished with linoleum. Preston had offered to share the small bed with me earlier but I’d declined. I then changed my mind after only a couple of minutes with nothing but a thin blanket between me and the rough floor. I got in bed with my Bestfried, in only underwear and a t-shirt, back to back with him.
After about half an hour of fitfully adjusting, I finally got close to comfortable and was able to fall asleep. I was roused again as Preston began to move around under the covers, removing his own jogging pants and tossing them on the floor. Again I tried to drift off to sleep, awkwardly trying not to touch Preston too much in our underdressed state.
Day 2
We had attended our first day of classes, hung out in the student center, ate lunch and I checked out the gym as Preston went to a nearby shopping center. I was a little bit of a gym rat, nearly obsessed with maintaining my long-and-lean, muscular physique. I had always told Preston he had the perfect body type to tone up; short, slender and taut. All he had to do was work out with me two or three times a week and he’d have a great body. He always declined, being comfortable with how he looked, I guessed.
After I left the gym, I went back to our dorm room and showered. I almost kept my home routine of showering, leaving my towel in the bathroom and going to bed naked, but I yelped and retreated back into the bathroom when I saw Preston look up at me in half shock sitting on the bed. “My bad, dude,” I yelled from the bathroom as I donned a towel. “Old habit.”
“It’s alright. I expected to see your dick as soon as I got home,” he said, dripping sarcasm.
“Your fault for looking at it,” I shot back as I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel from the waist down, grabbed my underwear and went back in to put them on.
“It’s just sooo big I can’t help it,” he said jokingly as I came back to our bedroom in my underwear, laughing the whole time. “Takes up the whole room.”
“Whatever, dude,” I chuckled. Being reminded there is still no second bed, I tried to get over the awkwardness of being in my underwear around Preston, seeing as how we’d be sleeping together again. “Hey, are you cool with me sleeping in underwear?”
“Yeah, that’s cool,” he said, dropping the sarcasm, thank God.
I got in the bed as he went to the shower. He came out of the bathroom wearing his jogging pants again, but this time without a shirt. I slightly shuddered, thinking, one step closer to being naked. I don’t know why the thought thrilled me but it did, just a little, so little I could deny it at the time. But enough to acknowledge if ever I wanted to. “You know you can take those off,” I said. “I mean, if you’re going to take them off anyway….”
“Nah, man. I’m okay. I get a little cold sometimes.” Preston sounded a bit nervous. It seemed suspicious that he was cold but opted to go topless, but I dropped the issue. He was probably naked under his pants and didn’t want things to be more awkward than they already were.
That night, as I drifted closer to sleep, I felt Preston remove his joggers once again, tossing them on the floor. We slept back to back that night, and as we made adjustments to our positions on the tiny bed, our feet got entangled. I had to admit to myself, the skin contact felt kind of good, as well as the extra room I was able to occupy, stretching my legs back to entwine with Preston’s.
Sleep came easier that night.
Day 3
I awoke to the soft alarm on Preston’s cell phone. His first class was about 25 minutes earlier than mine. I was lying closest to the wall, facing away from my Bestfriend, who was getting out of bed. As I felt his weight lift off the bed, out of one form of curiosity or the other, I turned over to (hopefully?) catch a glimpse of Preston’s naked body as he got dressed. But what I saw wasn’t the round, brown little boy bottom I had seen once or twice in our high school locker room, but a rump hugged by ruffled white panites with pink lace trim.
I’m not sure why, but I got really nervous, as if I was the one in danger of being caught in panties. After a few unexplicably exciting seconds of watching Preston, I closed my eyes again. I heard him moving about the room, opening my eyes again just almanbahis in time to see the panties disappear below the line of his waistband. My heart sighed to have Preston’s panties taken out of my sight.
At the time, I rationalized away my fascination with what I had seen. I told myself that maybe signals in my brain got crossed due to my own panty fetish, which was partially true. For whatever reason, panties had always excited me. Even just the sight of panties got me going. Hell, even the word ‘panties,’ spoken or even spelled out could cause a twitch in my pants. My mind never did register the context, and that was the reason for my increased heart rate, labored breathing and semi-erection. Or so I told myself.
“Preston’s wearing panties,” I said softly into the air, smiling, tasting my favorite word on my tongue but in complete denial of any lust for my Bestfriend. I got dressed thinking about it. I kept playing the little snapshot of Preston’s panties over and over in my head, from the time he rose out of bed revealing the satiny undies to their sudden and disappointing disappearance.
As I went about my day, I frequently thought about Preston’s panties. How long has he been wearing panties? Was he wearing them in high school? Does he wear them every day? Does he own any men’s underwear? Why didn’t he tell me? In retrospect, I know I was only conning myself when I began to contemplate convincing Preston to let me in on his little secret. I had told myself that since he was my Bestfriend, he shouldn’t have to keep a secret from me. I even felt disappointed that he trusted me so little he thought he had to hide it from me. Halfway through the day, my mind was made up that I would talk to Preston about his panties and that I would be so supportive he’d become comfortable being seen by me in his panties.
The rest of the day was filled with recollections of the surprising morning and imaginings of days to come. Preston in sky blue bikini panties. Preston in red lace. Preston in a grey cotton thong. Preston in frilly black panties. Preston in purple floral panties. Preston in yellow cheekies….
When I finally made it home, I was full of nervous excitement. I told myself I was just nervous for Preston, us being so close and all. He was about to be put on the spot for wearing women’s underwear, and I was just feeling embarrassed for him. But I’d make him comfortable in just a few minutes, and thus make the butterflies in my own tummy fly away.
Preston came home, showered and came out of the bathroom wearing his joggers again. I was sitting on the bed, nervous to get this talk started, but resolutely determined to free my Bestfriend from his needless shame. “Hey, uh, you know you can take those off now,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound pushy. Or eager.
“No,” Preston chuckled nervously. “I’m okay. I told you, I just get cold.”
“I know, I mean, but, y’know, you, like, take them off every night anyway. I just thought, y’know, you’d be more comfortable…, like, in…, whatever. Whatever you normally sleep in…” However clumsy and awkward it sounded coming out my mouth, it sounded twice that going into my own ears.
“No, I-” Preston said, and then froze, staring at me.
“I…, I saw you this morning. Y’know, wearing your… p-panties.” I clarified though I didn’t need to, putting the word on my lips again, amplifying my jitters. The essence of eroticism the word brought to me was palpable. And my brain did that thing again. Luckily, I was still sitting rather than standing.
“Uh, I, uh-” Preston stammered, speechless.
“It’s okay that you wear panties, Preston. I really don’t care. And I’m not gonna make fun of your panties or anything. I just want you to be able to be your true, genuine self with me. If we’re going to live together, I think you should be able to wear whatever you want to bed. And if you choose to wear panties, it’s okay. They’re just panties.”
I got a jolt every time I said my favorite word. Even though my cock was completely erect from referring to my Bestfriend’s panties, I just told myself I was saying it to make him feel more comfortable – getting the word out in the open so it wouldn’t feel so dirty. The furthest thing for the truth.
Preston looked at me quizzically. I looked at him reassuringly. Moments passed. “Go ahead,” I nudged, as soft as feathers. Preston hooked his thumbs into the waist of his jogging pants, then hesitated. I looked up to his face, nodded almost imperceptibly, then dragged my gaze back to his waistline. Preston pushed his pants down to the floor, revealing pastel blue, gingham print panties with white, frilly trim. They were nearly mesmerizing, and astonishingly cute, especially the way they nestled his soft penis, creating a noticeable bump.
I had to force myself to look up at his face. He was blushing and nibling his lip, standing with his pants around his ankles and his hands folded just below his panties, awaiting my approval. “Nice,” almanbahis giriş I said simply, glancing back down at Preston’s pretty panties.
“You don’t think it’s weird?” Preston finally said.
“Not really. I mean, yeah, maybe a little. But there’s nothing wrong with it.”
We talked about it for a few minutes, me assuring Preston it was okay to wear whatever he wanted and promising not to tell a soul. Then we decided to go to sleep. We got in the small bed just as we had before, back to back. After about a minute, our feet became entangled again, comfortably.
“Kyle?” Preston whispered.
“Yeah?” I answered.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Day 4
The night before was a little strange and a little too intimate. It didn’t feel wrong or bad at all to be so close to my Bestfriend, with me in briefs and him in panties, but that was the problem. Boys aren’t meant to feel so comfortable in such positions. In the morning, I was a tad embarrassed, so much so that I had foregone a sneak peak at Preston’s panties. I had begun to suspect that my fascination with my Bestfriend’s panties was just a little tiny bit on the gay side.
After he left for class, I got up and went to the front desk of the dormitory to inquire once again about our second bed. This time, after a brief phone call, the guy at the desk assured me that our bed would most definitely be delivered by the next morning. I sighed a sigh of relief and went on with my day, trying to scrub my mind of images of pantie-clad Preston.
It worked for about an hour, and then I was overwhelmed by visions, letting one slip in, and then another, until the door was flung open and I was smirking to myself as I pondered the cuteness of Preston’s panties. I told myself it was okay, that panties were designed to be cute no matter who wears them, that it was a good thing to think of my Bestfriend as cute, to accept him as he is, and to share some level of intimacy with him.
“Guys are so uptight about their precious, fragile masculinity sometimes,” I remembered my older sister saying when I questioned her about sitting on a girlfriend’s lap. I said it was weird and that I would never do that with another guy. I started to think maybe there was truth to what she had said. Maybe it’s okay for guys to do the things girls do together. They always do seem so comfortable with each other’s bodies. They compliment each other’s boobs and butts all the time without shame. It would be nice if guys were like that – if we were like that.
I did my best to convince myself this had nothing to do with anything sexual. That we would just be strengthening the bond of friendship between us.
When I got back to our room, there was still no bed. I hid a smirk from myself as my heart fluttered nervously. How far will we go today? The question whispered to me by my subconscious sent a shiver up my spine. In one sense, I ignored the question, putting the sexual connotation aside while, in another sense, answered the question by remaining naked after my shower and getting in bed just before Preston showed up. If he can be comfortable, why can’t I? I rationalized, nervously awaiting my Bestfriend’s arrival.
When I heard the door open, I felt a nervous, excited energy, though I had been dozing off due to the comfort of being naked in bed alone. But when Preston came in, I woke right up. We made small talk as Preston got ready for sleep, me lying there naked but for the blanket, him removing shoes, socks and shirt. He paused and stared at me before he dropped his pants and then smiled, loosening his belt and taking them off, revealing the cute gingham panties. And I could swear the bulge in his panties was just a little bigger.
He had been wearing them all day and hadn’t showered, stating that he was exhausted as I held open the covers to him, inviting him into bed with me. He got in smiling wide, sighing and turning his back to me. I had to adjust at the last second so my rigid cock wouldn’t bump him, positioning it just underneath his bottom instead of poking it through his panties – a thought that thrilled, delighted and scared me all at once.
“Oh, and, you don’t mind if I go nude, do you?” I asked, probably too late since we were already in bed.
“Oh, uh, no. You let me wear my panties so I owe it to you. Thanks again by the way. You’re a true friend.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
As we made our little adjustments, my left arm ended up folded underneath Preston’s head and my right arm kind of automatically draped around his small, smooth body. His back to my chest and our legs tangled, we comforted one another and drifted off to sleep.
Day 5
Preston got up a bit earlier than usual and had a shower. This time, I watched his cute butt as it bounced into the bathroom, then watched again as he came back into the room wearing another pair of cute panties – orange cheekies, ruched in the back like bikini bottoms. Oh, almanbahis yeni giriş they made his boy rump look so plump and appealing, almost like a girl’s. He turned toward the bed and I saw the swell of his manhood imprinting the thin, soft material.
“You like ’em?” Preston said, snapping me out of my stupor.
“Huh? Uh, what?” I said, blinking and shaking my head as if I was daydreaming, and then looked up to his gleeful, smiling face. He has such a pretty smile.
“My panties,” he chuckled. “Do you like my new panties?”
Oh, God, that word again…
“Uh, yeah. They’re pretty dope.” It was the most straight and masculine thing I could say about my Bestfriend’s cute panties and still be supportive.
“Yeah, they feel good too,” he said, pulling the panties up tighter against his waist, then letting the waistband pop against his hips. I watched him with a smile on my face as he slowly dressed himself, one item at a time. He sat on the dresser to put socks on his noticeably neat and petite feet, then he covered his peanut butter thighs with a pair of skinny jeans and finally donned a tight polo shirt, taking the sight of his modestly muscled chest and flat tummy away from my yearning eyes.
We were talking as he dressed, to cut down on the awkwardness of watching and being watched, but I can’t even remember what the conversation was about.
I had showered the night before, so I didn’t need to do so this morning, but I did need to wipe the precum from the tip of my penis after peeing. I blamed my heightened arousal on natural morning wood and my brain’s infatuation with the word panties and my obsession with the substance.
Again I talked to the person at the front desk, the girl from the first night. I told her it had been days and there still was no second bed. She apologized profusely and, after getting off the phone, guaranteed that there would be another bed in my room by the next morning. I felt relieved that this awkwardness with Preston would finally be put to bed.
In a window of time between leaving the dorm and the first class, I felt like what we were doing was too close, too intimate and a bit gay. In that window, I sought ways to end this curious closeness, or at least to stop while we were ahead. If we drew the line at lying in bed with Preston in panties and me naked, that might be okay. But I knew things would escalate if we kept growing more intimate, as seemed the trend.
But by the middle of my first class, fresh rationalizations grew in me like moss on a tree. I told myself we were okay. We’re just really close friends. There’s nothing wrong with this. Girls do this type of thing all the time. It’s okay, even if we get closer.
That night, Preston and I got in our little twin bed together again, me naked and him wearing his cute, orange panties. His adjustments caused my straining cock to press against his ass, right between his butt cheeks. I tensed up, unable to escape since my back was against the wall. I held my breath, half expecting Preston to jump out of bed and opt to sleep on the floor. But it didn’t happen. In fact, I was unsure then, but it seemed like Preston very subtlety arched his back into me, pressing his ass into my hardened manhood.
He took my arm that was draped loosely over his body and hugged it to his chest. I then held him tighter, lightly caressing his plain pecs with my palm. His skin was so soft, but still kind of firm underneath, and so warm and so soothing. He sighed contentedly, relaxing. I almost moaned. I didn’t know what the feeling was blooming in my heart, but I did know I loved it. And I loved Preston. But in what way?
I denied all my own accusations as I drifted off to sleep with my Bestfriend squeezed tight in my arms, his panty clad booty pressed into my lap.
Day 6
I woke up Saturday morning, glad to finally have a day to sleep in. When I opened my eyes, I saw Preston and smiled, watching him sleep serenely. He had tossed a little in his sleep and was now lying mostly on his back. He had distorted the covers and his chest was out in the open with its smooth, buttery skin and fine hairs. I lifted myself up on one elbow as I lay on my side, and peered down my Bestfriend’s body. His flat tummy, ebbing and growing with the rhythm of his breathing, then I glanced lower, down to his midsection.
His penis had gotten fully erect in his sleep and had outgrown the confines his panties. It poked up out of the waistband, the pretty pink tip moist with precum and peeking from inside its halo of foreflesh. I licked my lips as my heart jumped in my chest. Preston’s cock was rather impressive, grown to be about the same length as mine, only a bit thinner.
I repressed my urge to touch it and decided to have a shower to rinse way all my undeniably gay thoughts. I tossed the covers off my body and tried to get out of bed without waking Preston, climbing over him. He awoke just as my knees were on either side of his body.
“Where you going?” Preston asked lazily, yawning. He stretched like a kitten beneath me as I momentarily stradled him, my balls hanging above his tummy and my rigid rod hovering over his small chest, pointing to his chin.