There are panties everywhere!

Today has been productive.  Work was insane thanks to some massive upheavals in my department.  It wasn’t bad so to speak, but it did keep me busy.  The work day just flew by.  Getting home brought about the usual routine of dishes, laundry and cooking dinner.  I’m quite happy with how dinner came out, but the laundry…oh gods the laundry.

Nothing…but…panties.

And here’s the kicker, they were all mine.  I came across underwear I didn’t even know I had.  At last count I owned all of two thongs, now I have six.  At some point in the past six months my thongs had sex and bred a litter of baby thongs who are now mature and yearning to nestle my twig and berries.  There must be at least thirty or so various forms of panties sitting in the laundry basket.  I’m sitting here pulling out one set after another and folding them, convinced that was the last one.  But I was wrong, there was more.  It was like a never-ending laundry bag of womens underwear.

Somewhere, a guy just got a massive hard-on…

The ratio of male-to-female underwear in my wardrobe is surprising.  Having lived as a woman for some time, it’s to be expected that I have some remnants of my old apparel.  Mostly skirts since an ex-boyfriend had a particular fetish for guys in skirts.  I just didn’t expect to have so much freaking underwear.  Most of the lacy fru-fru underwear has long since been discarded, it served no practical purpose other than to make my ex-*insert gender here* horny.  There’s still a respectable collection of cotton panties and three pairs of not-so-cotton shimmery “Hey look, it outlines my dick” material panties.

I seriously need to buy some more boxer-briefs.