Today’s story submission: Danny’s Underwear Story
Growing up in the 1970s, I wore plain white briefs for underwear, as did all boys back then, because that’s all there was. I enjoyed going around the house in just my underwear and a shirt all day long, even in the wintertime since the house was kept plenty warm. I did lots of things to explore these youthful interests. For example, at school I would walk around the playground and look for other boys whose underwear was showing above their pants. I noted the waistband stripe style and I could usually identify the brand, too.
I had lots of underwear. My mom was always buying it whenever we went to K-Mart or Sears, or other such stores. I had about eight different waistband styles at any given time. I had lots of Fruit of the Loom (two thin blue stripes), some Hanes (black-red-black), and my favorite, K-Mart’s house brand. These had a wide, strong waistband with a single bold red stripe (I may have had some with a black stripe, too). The fabric on these was softer and thicker, and they came up higher on my body. Some of them had two layers in the seat, while others were single-ply.
I liked to see my friends in their underwear whenever we had sleepovers or went to the swimming pool where I got to see them in their underwear while undressing. Some of my friends had little brothers, so I would always get excited when I saw them running around in their underwear. Some of the neighborhood kids played outside in the front yard in their underwear in the summertime (just the boys, though; the girls always wore swimsuits or shorts).
While my friends were all looking at girlie magazines, I was looking at the boys modeling underwear in the Sears and JC Penney catalogs. Every Sunday I would look for boys modeling underwear in the newspaper ads and take them out of the old newspaper pile the next day after my parents tossed it there the previous evening. If I could get to them, I would save the boys’ underwear pages from the catalogs after my Mom threw them out.
I made drawings of myself and other boys in their underwear and wrote stories about boys going around in their underwear. When we went to stores like Sears and K-Mart I would go to the boys’ underwear section and look at all the briefs on the rack/shelf. It was mostly plain white in various brands with different colors and patterns on the distinctive stripes on the waistbands. Some of them had double-layered seats, but at about this time, this feature seemed to be disappearing from boys’ briefs, for reasons unknown to this day. At about this time Underoos came on the market, but I wasn’t interested in them because I wasn’t really into Superman or Spiderman, and besides, they weren’t plain white.
Today, gazing at the boys’ underwear section is depressing, as much of what is available now consists of boxers and boxer briefs, and in different colors, too. While I am pleased to still see that tighty whities for boys are available, they only get a small portion of the total display space.
I don’t know when, how, or why this all changed, but I find it sad that a lot of boys don’t wear tighty whities these days because of what disparaging things their friends and classmates will say, especially in settings such as the gym class locker room. I’m sure there are boys out there who would like to wear tighty whities if they did not have to fear being ridiculed by their peers. Today’s boys are missing out on one of the great, fun pleasures of boyhood, going around the house in plain white briefs and seeing your friends and brothers all dressed the same way.
I’ve had these interests for as long as I can remember. As far back as I can remember, I was three years old and I was wearing training pants. These were the thick, plain white cotton kind, not Pull-Ups (which at one time were plain white). The training pants were like tighty whities, but much thicker. I often looked down between my bare legs to see the bulging white strip of fabric tightly pulled up between my legs and going up over my tummy. I would also stand in front of the mirror and turn around and bend over to see what my butt looked like. I enjoyed seeing the big, bulging white square of material that formed the multi-layered seat of my training pants.
By the time I was four years old I was still having trouble making it to the toilet whenever I had to poop. As I had outgrown my training pants, my Mom started putting several pairs of underwear on me at a time. I enjoyed the extra bulk of the soft material and the whiteness enhanced by having several other white layers of underwear on underneath. I usually had a dozen pairs of underwear on at a time, if not more. It was meant to be a punishment as it was so thick that I could not wear any pants, making it so that my sisters and anyone else who came to our house saw me wearing a thick bunch of briefs together. I was dressed like this day and night for several days, wearing pants only when we left the house (Mom thinned down the underwear to allow pants to fit). At night I only wore my pajama top or a plain white undershirt and remained in my bulky multi-layered briefs.
My sisters teased me very frequently and mercilessly about having to wear so much underwear at a time without pants so that they could see me wearing it, while they could wear pants and use the toilet, whereas I pooped in my underwear like it was a diaper. I don’t know what amused them more, the fact that I had on so much underwear, or the reason for wearing them that way. They liked to stick their butts in my face, pointing out that they had jeans on and that girls didn’t go around in their underwear.
While it was very embarrassing to have my sisters see me in not just my underwear, but that it was so bulky (especially in the rear where several double-seated layers stacked up), I thrived on this attention from them and their friends and enjoyed knowing that they saw me like this all the time. I derived some sort of secret pleasure from hearing girls talk about what I looked like. They made a point of not ever letting me see them in their underwear because they were girls, although they liked to compare their skimpy, colored panties to my plain white briefs, which they said looked like diapers, especially when I wore them in multiples.
While I eventually got my accidents somewhat under control and went to school wearing just one pair of underwear, I still continued to enjoy putting on several pairs of underwear at a time. After I was home I would go into my bedroom, close the door, take off my pants and put on a bunch of underwear to wear the rest of the day. I had to keep it thin enough to slip pants on, though, which I often had to do in a pinch. At night, when bedtime approached, I would wear a white undershirt or pajama top and about 20 to 30 pairs of underwear. As I had underwear in at least three sizes, I could fit the larger pairs over the smaller pairs. The outer pairs came up really high all around my body, not that it mattered since I had no pants on anyway. I tucked my shirt inside the innermost pair so that everyone could see my underwear in its entirety and also see the multiple waistbands (which my sisters enjoyed pulling on and snapping). I would watch Saturday morning cartoons like this alongside my pajamas-clad sisters, and I would remain in my thick undies for as long as I could, until I had to get dressed, around noon or so.
I knew it was crazy, but I was quite the exhibitionist. Whenever my sisters had sleepover guests I’d go around and let them see me wearing a bunch of underwear. I made sure to bend over a lot to make my butt stand out even more, and I always made sure to have double-layered pairs on the top of the bunch. I liked hearing how girls reacted to seeing a boy indulging in his underwear like this. Some girls thought it was weird but most of them thought it was really funny and really cute. One of them even said she would get her brother to do the same thing (I don’t know if she went through with it or not). One of my sisters was embarrassed by it, while the other sister encouraged her friends to call attention to my thick underwear, dwarfing my skinny bare legs. This behavior continued up until I was about 10 years old.
In case you’re wondering, I did still have poop accidents once in a while, and I also had frequent bouts of diarrhea, but my Mom didn’t want me to poop in my underwear on purpose like it was a diaper. I didn’t wipe very well, so it was good that the extra underwear hid my skidmarks. My sisters also thought it made a good fart muffler.
At around age 12 I was approaching puberty. One night I was lying in bed wearing several pairs of tighty whities as, of course, I had done every night throughout my post-toddler childhood. I often rubbed myself through the massive fly fronts, as I had long ago discovered how incredibly good this feels, but one night it felt especially good and tingly, and I just had to keep going as my erection became more pronounced. I wasn’t expecting the ejaculation, however, so when it happened I was scared, thinking I broke something. I got up, turned on the light and pulled down my thick set of underpants to inspect the “damage”. I was surprised to see a med of thick, white goo. I had no idea what it was or why it happened. Of course I was back at it again the next night, and the night after that, assured that I had done nothing to injure myself, though I began to have concerns about any long-term effects. It still took me awhile after that to realize that most other boys did the same thing, though my method was different. It should come as no surprise that I had my first ejaculation in my thickly layered briefs. This has since been my sole method of masturbation (which I do in diapers now).
By this time I was in junior high school, and having gym class let me see a lot of my fellow male classmates in their underwear. Virtually all the boys wore tighty whities, and there was no ridiculing one another for it because it’s what we all wore. I got excited looking at the boys bending over in their white undies, wishing that they had been wearing several pairs at a time. I had often wondered if other boys ever did this, and then one day, I found out that there was, in fact, at least one other boy who exhibited similar indulgences.
It happened in my 7th grade gym class. I was headed back to my locker after showering to re-dress. I noticed a boy whose underwear looked whiter and thicker, like he had several pairs on. I could tell from having seen my own underwear like this, of course, that this was what he was wearing. As I approached him I saw that he was putting more underwear on over a big bunch of underwear that he was already wearing. This got me very, very excited, and I continued to watch, noting that he already had a bulging buttload of underwear on, and a big pile of briefs remaining to still be put on. I figured he must have had 40 pairs on by the time he was finished. The bell rang and I couldn’t stick around to watch, as much as I wanted to.
Like I did at home, he tucked his shirt in beneath the innermost pair, so that his entire underwear was exposed, and you could see several waistbands stacked atop one another. He mostly wore Fruit of the Loom (two thin blue stripes), but he also had Hanes, K-Mart’s house brand, Sears, JC Penney and several others. Some pairs were double-seated. He apparently wore larger sizes on top as they went up higher and just looked bigger.
One thing he did differently, however, was that he would alternate each pair so that one pair would go on the right way, and then the next pair would go on backwards with the fly front on his butt, and the seat on his front. He pulled these pairs up as high as they would go, which went up almost to his chest.
Since he was at school, he had to wear pants. His pants were sized so that they would fit over his underwear, though it still showed well above his pants. He seemed to only have one pair of pants since I never saw him wearing anything else. It should also be noted that he was a special ed kid, so he was likely given a pass instead of being marked tardy for his next class because of how much time it took for him to put all his underwear on.
While I was very excited to see a fellow boy indulging in his underwear, I also had a lot of questions I wanted to ask him. To this day I seriously regret not ever approaching him to ask him about his apparent underwear obsession, or becoming friends with him. I was afraid that doing so might compromise my few, existing precious friendships, and that I was already not very popular and was ridiculed by my classmates for other reasons. I wish I didn’t care about those things then and figured that I had nothing to lose, popularity-wise.
I mainly wanted to know why he did this. I wanted to know if it was his choice or his parents’ choice for him to come to school like this and what his reasons were for doing it. I wanted to know if he had any sisters who saw him like this, what they thought of this from a girl’s point of view, and what sort of involvement that they may have had in his underwear activities. It was very obvious that he used his underwear like a diaper since the innermost pairs were dingy and stained with poop and also wet from pee. Because of this he always smelled bad, too. I still wondered whether he did it because of incontinence, if it was some long-term punishment doled out by his parents, or if he was just eccentric. He clearly had no sense of shame and was not the least bit embarrassed by letting everyone in the locker room see him putting on a bunch of underwear that he had pooped in. Nobody made fun of him because it didn’t matter to him. To add to his eccentricities, he also had a “He-Man” alter ego, and openly stated that he was a “fag” (this was when being labeled “gay” in school was a very, very bad thing).
While I may have finally mustered up the courage to approach him and ask him about his underwear situation (perhaps becoming his friend), I never had a chance to do this before he moved away. Off and on I have made several attempts to contact him through various online people-finding services but have had no luck. To vicariously experience how our friendship may have developed, I wrote a story called “What Might Have Been”, which I will be happy to share with anyone who may be interested.
For the remainder of my adolescence and into my young adulthood I thought that I was the only one with such interests and experiences. Once I got on the Internet I finally realized that I was not alone and that other people had a diaper fetish (which I felt was integral to my experiences with underwear). I shared my experiences with others. It felt so good to feel comfortable sharing these experiences, being asked questions about it, and reading about other people’s experiences (usually with diapers, though).
My hope for the future is that today’s and tomorrow’s generations will appreciate the fun and joy of wearing tighty whities. For me, no other color or type of underwear will do.
If you have read this far into the story, I thank you for taking the time to read it, and I hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to share your thoughts on this site and through my email address— [email protected] (Sorry, I don’t use Facebook or other social media).
Also, please feel encouraged to share with me any similar such experiences and/or observations from your boyhood years, especially if sisters and/or other girls were at least in some way involved.