My name is Edward Joseph Mason, and I am the fourth male in my family to be christened with this distinguished name, as my father, grandfather and great grandfather were also named Edward Joseph; but ever since I was a small boy, everyone in my family and circle of friends has referred to me by the moniker, Joey.

My family has lived in Northern California for six generations and is considered to be solid member of the upper class society of the great city of San Francisco. One of the advantages of being in the Mason family is that it guarantees that the males are afforded automatic entrance into the oldest and most prestigious gentlemen’s club in The City, the Excelsior Club, which was established in 1852.

Let me start by explaining what a gentlemen’s club is, and how it functions. A gentlemen’s club is a members-only private club set up by, and for, upper class men. The Clubs are owned by their members, and not by an individual or corporate body. A number of clubs are characterized by their members’ interest in politics, literature, the arts or some other pursuit.

Gentleman’s clubs are private places where men can relax and create friendships with other men. The clubs are, in effect, “second homes,” where men can socialize with colleagues and friends, play parlor games, and enjoy a fine meal.

I am very proud of my membership in the Excelsior Club, as it has provided me opportunities to meet San Francisco’s most highly respected men of influence and power. But what I am even more proud of is my membership in a smaller but very exclusive sub group of Excelsior Club members. We are a club within the Excelsior Club, and we share a common interest that sets us apart from the main club membership… we enjoy wearing women’s panties. We call ourselves, The Gentlemen’s Panty Club.

I am currently thirty-five years of age, and have been wearing “women’s unmentionables” daily for approximately fifteen years, and I’ve come to realize and enthusiastically accept the fact that I have an undeniable panty fetish. This did not happen over night, but developed over a period of many years.


My first memory of panties was when I was five years old. My best childhood friend was a cute little blonde girl named Edith Chatsworth, who lived in the large manor house across the street from us. Edith was one year older than me, and liked to brag about how she was more “grown up” than me, as I was “just a baby”, and she knew much more than me. Our mothers were best friends, as they attended the same Episcopalian church, and were members of the same country club.

One hot summer afternoon Edith and her mother came over to my house for an afternoon swim in our pool. They, of course, had their own swimming pool, but our mothers had more fun when we children used the same pool. It gave them a chance to share an afternoon cocktail, as they watched their little darlings frolic in the water.

At midafternoon my mother told us it was time to get out and take a quick shower in the pool house, to get all the “nasty chlorine” off of us. Edith took my hand and led me to the bathroom. We stripped off our bathing suits and hopped into the warm shower, which felt wonderful. Our mothers watched us from a short distance, and after a too short amount of time told us it was time to get out of the shower and get dressed, so we could go out for ice cream. I ran to my mother, who wrapped a fluffy bath towel around me and dried my hair. Edith’s mother did the same with her.


After we were dry our mothers handed us a change of clothes to put on. I stepped into my white cotton boy briefs. Then my mother helped me put on my Spiderman t-shirt and my blue denim shorts. While my mother ran a comb through my damp hair, I had an opportunity to watch Edith dress. The first thing that I took notice of was Edith’s underwear, which looked a lot different from mine. Hers were quite colorful, and much more interesting than my underwear, as they were a pretty light pink color with cute little kittens on them.

I was curious about the difference. I looked up at my mother’s face and asked, “Mommy, how come Edith’s underwear looks different than mine? I mean, her underwear is very pretty, don’t you think? And mine, is just plain white.”

She thought for a few seconds, and smiled back at me, “Well Joey, Edith is wearing girl’s panties, which can be any color and have any pattern that you can imagine. Boy’s underwear is usually just one color, as they don’t care about how their underwear looks, only that it feels comfortable wearing them.”

I thought about what my mother said for a few seconds. I looked closely at Edith’s pretty panties, and then I remembered my plain white boy’s briefs. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t wear pretty underwear too.

Again I looked up at my mother’s beautiful face, “Mommy, I want to wear girl’s underwear too. Can I wear pretty panties Mommy… please?”

Mother looked over at Edith’s mother, and then shrugged her shoulders. Edith’s mother had placed one hand over her mouth, and she appeared to be trying to stifle a laugh. A few seconds later they both started giggling, and then Edith joined in as well. I felt my cheeks getting very warm. This was the first time in my life that I remember being terribly embarrassed. Can you imagine how it feels being humiliated by your own mother? I wanted to cry, but I did not want to be seen acting like a baby, so I covered my face with both of my hands.

After a short time the laughter stopped, and my mother pulled my hands away from my face. She was kneeling on the floor in front of me and looking into my eyes.

“It’s ok, Joey, if you want to wear pretty panties, but I think you should ask your father first. He’s not going to his club after work tonight, so you can ask him about wearing panties while we’re eating dinner. Cook is making your father’s favorite, Beef Wellington, so I know he’ll be in a good mood.”

The caring look of tenderness in my mother’s face reassured me, and I immediately felt much better.

“OK, Mommy, I’ll ask him tonight. Do you think he’ll say yes? Oh… I do hope he’ll let me wear pretty panties!”

Mother just looked back at me and smiled.

“Your father is a very important man in San Francisco society, and as such, he’s a conservative man in most matters, but he can also be flexible, at times. I think he might make some accommodation for you.”

Then my mother hugged me and kissed me on my cheek. “You really are a sweet boy, Joey, and I want you to always remember that.”

I nodded my head, “I will Mommy.”

That evening we enjoyed the delicious dinner that Cook had prepared for us, and my mother and father shared the events of their day. I waited patiently for Daddy to ask about my day. Before desert was brought to the table my father turned his attention to me.

“Well Joseph, your mother tells me you have something important to ask me.”

He looked directly at me, but he seemed relaxed, and to be in a receptive mood as he waited for me to begin.

I picked up my napkin and wiped my mouth, thinking about how to begin my petition.

“Well Daddy…um… Edith and I swam in the pool today, and afterwards we showered off the “nasty chlorine.” We started to get dressed, and I couldn’t help noticing that her underwear was much more interesting than mine, and I thought they were very pretty. Mommy told me that’s because a girl’s panties can be any color or pattern, but boy’s underwear is only white, and not pretty. I don’t think that’s fair, Daddy, and I would like your permission to wear panties like Edith.”

My father looked calmly into my eyes for a few seconds, and then he looked over at my mother. My mother smiled back at him, but did not speak. He turned his attention back to me.

“Well Joseph, that’s very brave of you to be so honest, and you’re to be commended for that.”

My father looked down at his napkin, and I could tell he was composing his thoughts.

“Your request is unusual, Joseph, but I don’t see any harm in you having one pair of panties that you can wear only in this house, and you won’t tell anyone about this. When you go to school, or anywhere else, you will wear normal boy’s underwear. When you’re older you’ll discover that other people will make fun of you if they know you’re wearing girl’s underwear, and for your own good, I do not want that to happen. Do you understand?”

“I do Daddy. Thank you!”

“You’re quite welcome, son. I suspect you’ll lose interest in this business soon enough.”

The next day Mother bought a pair of pink panties for me, and they were similar to Edith’s, but instead of cute little kittens they had colorful flowers on them. The material was different than my boy’s underwear, and felt very nice on my skin. I enjoyed wearing them immensely.

The following week Edith and her mother came over to my house, as Mother had invited Julia, Edith’s mother, to have an afternoon cocktail with her, while Edith and I played quietly upstairs. When Edith and I were in my bedroom, I closed the door and looked over at her.

“Edith, I have something to tell you, but you have to promise to keep it secret, ok?”

My friend gave me a puzzled look, “Sure Joey, you can always trust me. What’s your big secret?”

I walked over to the head of my bed, reached under my pillow and pulled out my pink panties with the flower pattern. I held them up proudly in front of her, “I get to wear pretty panties just like you do. Daddy said I can’t wear them outside of this house, and I can’t tell anyone about this, so you must promise not to tell. Ok Edith?”

She grabbed my panties from my hand and looked at them carefully.

“Wow Joey, they’re very pretty panties indeed. So you like wearing them?”

“I do Edith. I think they look very nice on me, and they make me happy wearing them. Do you think that’s strange Edith?”

“Well, it is somewhat unusual, but if it gives you joy, I don’t see anything wrong with you wearing them, Joey. But I do think your father is very wise in not letting you wear them out in public, and that you should not tell anyone about it. The kids at school can be very cruel, especially the girls, about making fun of anyone who’s different from them. They would tease and torment you without end if they discovered your secret.”

Edith handed my panties back to me, and then she did something that took me by surprise… she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek!

“I think you’re a very sweet boy Joey, and I fancy you very much. Perhaps we’ll marry some day!”

I looked at Edith and my cheeks felt warm.

“Oh Edith, I do not want to marry… ever. Why would I want to do that?”

At that she giggled, “Oh Joey, you’re such a baby sometimes.”

As it turned out, my father’s prediction about me wearing women’s underwear was correct, and after a few months I lost interest in wearing my pretty pink panties, but my interest did return a few years later.


I don’t recall anything of particular interest during my first four years of grammar school regarding girl’s underwear. OK, occasionally, a girl would sit comfortably, open her legs, and accidentally show her panties, and I enjoyed these accidents very much. I tried to act casual when looking at her panties, but sometimes, something would come over me, and I would blatantly stare. I could not help myself! I think panties must have some special power over me. Looking at her underwear made me feel funny.

I do recall one occasion when I was in fifth grade that reignited my interest in panties greatly. I was twelve years old. There was a very pretty little girl with curly red hair, named Bridgett O’Brien, who enrolled at the start of the school year. On the first day of school she sat at the desk next to mine, introduced herself, and gave me a warm smile. I liked her from the start, and I thought she was very nice.

After a few weeks I became good friends with Bridgett. She came up behind me at morning recess one day, and tapped me on the shoulder.

“Hi Joey, I have a question to ask you, and please don’t laugh at me, ok?”

I looked at her closely, wondering what in the world she wanted to ask me. She looked at her feet for a few seconds, and then she looked me in the eye.

“Joey, would you be my boyfriend?”

I was puzzled by her question. I had no idea what “being her boyfriend” meant I was supposed to do!

“Uh, ok, I guess, but what exactly does a boyfriend do?”

Bridgett thought for a second, “Um, I’m not really sure, but I’ll ask my friend Melanie, and we’ll get back to you, ok Joey?”

“Sure Bridgett.”

Later that day at lunch, Bridgett came up to me again.

“Ok Joey, here’s what a boyfriend does. First, you hold my hand and walk me to the cafeteria at lunchtime. Then, after school you carry my books, and walk me home. The last thing you have to do is protect my honor.”

She smiled at me, and seemed very pleased with herself. I wondered about the “honor” requirement.

“What exactly does that mean… protect your honor?”

“I think it means you have fight any boy who tries to steal it.”

Well, that didn’t sound too difficult, seeing as how I’d never been in a fight before. I decided that if it pleased Bridgett, then it was a simple enough task for me to be her boyfriend.

“Ok Bridgett, I’ll be your boyfriend!”

“Oh thank you Joey!”

Then she threw her arms around me and gave me a big hug.

After that day I was spending more time with Bridget, and I got to know her better. I thought she was a very nice person, and I enjoyed spending time with her. Once, she told me that she had four brothers and four sisters, and that her family had emigrated from Ireland, and they were strict Catholics. Later that evening, I told my mother I had a new girl friend named Bridgett, and what I had learned about her. When I was done my mother had a sour look on her face, and I could tell she was not happy.

“Joey, I want you to leave that girl alone, and do NOT talk to her. Do you understand Joey?”

“Yes Mommy, I understand you perfectly, but why can’t I talk to Bridgett? I mean… I really like talking to Bridgett.”

I heard her mumbling to herself under her breath, “What is it with those Catholics, and having so many retched brats? Fucking animals… like rabbits!” and then she left the room.

The next day I deliberately ignored Bridgett when she greeted me, and when I looked over at her a few minutes later, I could tell she was mad at me. An hour later our teacher was called to the school office regarding something urgent. When my teacher left the classroom, Bridgett turned around in her desk and was facing me. She reached down with her hands and pulled the hem of her skirt above her knees. When she saw she had my attention, she slowly opened her legs revealing her white cotton panties to me. She looked directly into my eyes. I felt paralyzed with fear and excitement at the same time. My eyes wandered down, and then fixed on her crotch. Five seconds later Bridgett snapped her legs shut, and then she smiled at me. I’m sure my face clearly revealed my look of disappointment. I tried to focus my attention on the textbook on top of my desk, but a minute later I looked back at Bridgett. Again she was facing me, and again her legs were parted, and I had a clear view of her white panties. Again I felt paralyzed and I was unable to avert my eyes! And again, five seconds later she closed her legs, but this time she whispered something to Melanie Johnson, the girl sitting in front of her, and both of them began to laugh. I felt my cheeks getting hot, and I wanted to run from the room, but right at that moment my teacher returned to the classroom. She heard the girls laughing and walked over to investigate.

“So Melanie… would you like to tell me, why you’re laughing, in my classroom?

“I’m sorry Miss Turner. Joey did something that made us laugh.”

“And what was he doing that was so funny Bridgett?”

Before Bridgett could respond Melanie blurted, “We caught him staring at Bridgett’s panties. I mean, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. It’s like he was struck dumb or something. I don’t know why, but that struck us as being hilarious.”

My teacher’s face was stern, and she looked me in the eye, “Is this true Joey? Were you, or were you not, staring at Bridgett’s panties?”

I felt the tears forming in my eyes, and I felt terribly ashamed of myself.

“I did stare at her Miss Turner. I know I shouldn’t have, but I just couldn’t help it!”

My teacher thought for a few seconds, “You will go to the principal’s office immediately, and you will tell Mrs. Prickly what you’ve done. She will decide a suitable punishment for your disgraceful behavior.”

One hour later my parents were sitting next to me in the principal’s office, and Mrs. Prickly was talking to them about my “panty problem.”

When we were driving home no one spoke for ten minutes. I was terrified. Then my father cleared his throat and began, “Well Joseph, I thought your interest in panties had subsided years ago, but apparently that’s not true. Do you still think about girl’s underwear a lot?”

“Yes Dad. I don’t know why, but I just can’t help myself. Is there something wrong with me Dad?”

My father looked over at me and smiled.

“No Joseph, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re getting older, and it’s natural for you to be thinking about girls, and how they’re different from boys, and one of those differences is their underwear. When your principal called, I thought you’d done something much worse, like sassing your teacher, or getting into a fight with another boy.”

As we were driving past a shopping mall my father spoke, “Joseph, would you like it if your mother bought some panties for you? Like I said before, you could only wear them at home.”

I thought about this for a minute. I looked at my father and he seemed relaxed and calm.

“No, thank you Dad. I think I need to wear ordinary boy’s underwear, and the less I think about girl’s panties the better off I’ll be. I don’t want to get into trouble at school ever again!”

The next day at school Edith approached me in the cafeteria.

“Joey, I heard about what happened to you yesterday, from some of the girls in your class. They’re spreading rumors about you, saying that you have a “panty problem,” and they’re saying you’re a “perv.”

I looked at Edith’s face, and I could see she was concerned about me. I felt tears forming in my eyes.

“Oh Edith! I don’t know how to explain what happened. I think they’re might be something queer about me. I don’t understand why I like to look at panties so much!”

Edit put her face close to mine, and then whispered in my ear, “It’s ok. I’ll talk to the girls that are saying these awful things, and I’ll put a stop to this nonsense, but you have to promise me that what happened yesterday will never happen again! Ok Joey?”

“I promise Edith.”

Edith smiled back at me.

“You’re a sweet boy, Joey” and then she kissed my cheek.

“Thank you Edith. You’re my best friend in the whole world!”


When I was in seventh grade I experienced another “panty moment,” that I still remember like it happened only yesterday. Edith’s mother had called one afternoon in the spring, and invited me and my mother over for a visit, which meant the adults would share an afternoon cocktail, while the children entertained themselves quietly upstairs. Edith escorted me up to her bedroom. When we were inside she closed her bedroom door. I took a seat at a small study desk that Edith used when doing her homework. Usually Edith wore a t-shirt and blues jeans, or shorts, after school, but today she was wearing a crisp white blouse and a gingham skirt with the hem one inch above her knees. Something looked different about her, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. Edith stood three feet in front of me. She seemed to be waiting for me to say something. I just looked back at her, and I was puzzled by her behavior.