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Turning her panties inside out there appeared to be a wet spot on the crotch and lifting the crotch towards my nose, I was rewarded with a strong smell of pee mixed with the perfume of her pussy.

This immediately turned my on and I was soon stroking my cock as I inhaled deeply filling my senses with her unique sexy smell.

I took her bra out of the basket and pulling back the foreskin of my cock, wrapped my cock in the lacy fabric and began stroking quickly getting faster and faster as the lace teased the head of my cock.

I started inhaling faster and deeper as I stroked and sniffed like a wild animal and as I was about to cum, I slid my tongue onto the panty crotch where my tongue immediately detected the sharp taste of her pee.

Within a few seconds I came and came very hard. I don't do this very often, but when I do I always relish the smell and taste she leaves for me. I did the same with the washing basket and found a pair she had worn out last night with the girls I smelling the crotch and could smell her pussy juice and some man cum mixed I started licking and wanking my cock I blew my load in her panties it was amazing.

Last weekend my daughter went out with some of her friends. One had come back to town after getting a job about 2 hours away and had left her bag in my daughters room.

After everyone had gone to bed, they were still out and I snuck into her room and went through her friends bag. There was a Pink lace floral thing that she had worn at some point.

I put it to my nose and inhaled her wonderful scent. She is a petite girl and is really beautiful. I took those panties along with a clean pair and went to the bathroom.

While sniffing her scent from the thing I masturbated into another pair of her panties. I haven't cum that much in a very long time. The pair that I came in was tossed into the drier and I put it back in her bag, but I kept the pair she had worn.

I've used them several times now, by keeping them in a ziplock bag, they have stayed fresh. I can't wait for her to come back and see us again.

Since I was 15, I have been starting to sniff and lick women panties which were wet with pussy cum and piss. Here is a list which started with my 2 elder sisters,a dozen of their friends when they stayed home,3 of my aunt their 7 daughters,my two sisters in law,around 4 of my Mum's friends with 3 of their daughters.

Before I got married at the age of 28,I had gone out with girls and women. I also made a collection of these panties ,with different sizes and colours,many were strings, then a lot of G strings and some old type panties.

When I got married, I told my wife about my secret and she often gave me her dirty wet strings and when I sniffed and licked them before her,she got mad and fucked me like a beast.

I figured that computer science was a field which offered me the maximum gender flexibility given my intellectual capabilities.

Our freshman year we lived in the dorms. Unfortunately, separate dorms. Occasionally, we could dress up and go out but since I couldn't be in her dorm and she couldn't be in mine, it was really difficult.

By our sophomore year, we had located an affordable apartment that we could share. We each had separate bedrooms plus a kitchen and a living room.

The rent was more than two dorm rooms but we had much more privacy and less noise. Since I didn't have to worry about one of the guys getting into my stuff, I loaded up all of my clothes from Aunt C's and moved into the apartment full-time.

During my sophomore year, as I became better known among my classmates, I took deliberate pains to cloud my gender. First, I was tall now 5' 11" but slender lbs.

My hair was long and I was virtually beardless but I did not tweeze my eyebrows. My clothes that I wore to class were asexual jeans and sweatshirt.

Second, my voice, though low for a girl was soft. Third, the style that I wore my hair had infinite variations varying from unquestionably feminine to borderline masculine.

Finally, my personality intellectual and emotional could be varied through the spectrum from male to female. Manipulation of these traits allowed a great deal of freedom for me to explore my own gender identity.

I attended most large lectures ie. For smaller lectures, where the instructor was more likely to compare the face to the roster, I attended as Paul.

Even as Paul, I continued to sow as much gender confusion as possible might as well share the wealth. Michelle began to take some nursing courses that required her to do some time in the local hospital.

Naturally she had to buy some uniforms. I loved them. Always a sucker for a gal in uniform. Seriously, I considered changing majors just to be able to wear a nurse's outfit like Michelle's.

Michelle also found a waitress's job a few miles out of town, serving cocktails. She had to wear a very tight-waisted outfit that was "cut down to there, and cut up to here".

I decided that I could endure an occassional pinch for that kind of dough, so with her introduction I applied for a job. I didn't make anywhere near the money that Michelle did in that job beauty counts for something but it did help out for spending cash.

The outfit was a problem, though. Not so much the "cut up to here," but the "cut down to there" was a toughie.

Michelle pitched in by visiting a second gynecologist her gyno already had her on the pill and obtained a second prescription for birth control pills.

After taking them for about a month, my nipples became sore and my breasts began to enlarge. After about six months, I had enough breast development to fill an A-cup bra.

I wasn't going to challenge Dolly but it was going to be hard to look like a boy again. At least topless. The "cut down to there" problem remained, but at least it wasn't flagrant.

Going home to mother was my biggest worry. Oh well, I'd cross that bridge later. The pinches, as I expected, were there even if the tips weren't quite up to Michelle's.

One worry that Michelle didn't have, though, were my testicles and penis. Some drunken cowboy getting a grip on those and the jig was up. I devised a more advanced version of the gaf that I had worn since I was 6.

Previously, I had merely taken an elastic brief, such as a panty girdle, pulled my penis back between my legs, stuffed my testicles up into my abdomen, and caught the whole mess with the girdle.

Occassionally, the penis would slip to the side, but more often it would simply creep forward, coming to rest as a lump of unwanted flesh at the tip of my pubis bone.

My new gaf improved upon this by providing a pocket into which the penis was inserted, thus preventing it from slipping sideways. It also allowed for the head of the penis to be secured and pulled backwards with the gaf.

The final improvement involved finding a corset-type garment to attach the gaf to. This was the hardest part. Corsets went out of favor many decades ago and therefore one cannot expect Sears or Penneys to carry them in their catalog.

The Yellow Pages weren't much help either. For the short term, I bought what was termed a "waist nipper".

I sewed the gaf to the front of the nipper and put eyelets into the back, so that I could draw the laces, that I had sewn to the gaf, tightly towards the rear.

Utimately, I found a manufacturer of a Victorian style corset and had one made to my measurements. The gaf I had designed for the nipper worked well with the corset and my worries about being "felt-up" all but vanished.

The corset provided one additional benefit. Without the corset, my waist-line was nothing special. With the corset, I was able to bring my waist from it's natural 28" to a corsetted 24".

After a few months, I was able offer a corsetted waist of 22" and an uncorsetted waist of 24 inchs. My gender ambiquity was become more difficult to maintain.

The waitress job forced me to take a definite posture towards my feminine side, most of which was difficult, if not impossible, to reverse the next morning.

Obviously I was going to have to make some difficult decisions soon. I knew that I did not want to go through life appearing as a man, though I felt comfortable "being" a man.

I knew mother would be hurt and probably wouldn't understand. Aunt C probably would understand but I didn't know she could help. My professors would have to be told since the classes at the junior and senior level were definitely small enough for them to associate names and faces.

I asked for, and was granted, an appointment with the Head of the Psychology Department. I felt that I needed some help making these decisions and thought he might be in position to recommend someone knowledgable about my problem.

On the appropriate day I was greeted by Professor Ferguson himself. He gave me a warm handshake with his big dry paws. Directing me to the chair upholstered in well worn leather, he took up a position behind his desk.

Leaning on his elbows over his enormous desk, he inquired how help be of service. My hopes rose. I told him, as briefly as could, my career at the university.

I then told him of my extracurricular life. He didn't bat a lash. I told him that I felt I had reached a crucial decison point in my life and hoped that he could recommend someone who could help me with these decisions.

He smiled warmly and sat back in his chair. On this campus alone, that means that there are some students facing the same questions that you face.

Most will never resolve their conflicts. There is, however, a colleague of mine who is also knowledgable about this problem. Let me give you her name and extension.

No, better yet let's see if she has time to come here now. Professor Ferguson picked up the phone and dialed a few numbers.

He chatted amiably for a few seconds, inquired if the callee was free for a few minutes and then replaced the receiver. We chatted for a couple of minutes about campus life, weather and so forth, until there was a tap on the door and Professor Young walked into the office.

I recognized him instantly from his press clippings. He was a rising star in the academic world for his research into the fundemental causes of dyslexia.

Professor Ferguson briefed Professor Young about my situation, recanting almost exactly every detail I had told him.

When Professor Ferguson was finished, Professor Young turned to me and invited to follow him to his office. Young's office was a good deal less opulent than Ferguson's and a good deal messier.

There were 2 foot stacks of books lining every inch of the wall around his office. His desk was buried beneath 4 inches of papers and books.

Apparently profesors and students weren't that different after all. He asked me to elaborate on the briefing he received from Professor Ferguson, which I did.

When I was finished, he said "your course seems clear, your mind seems clear, how can I help? When he sensed my confusion at his response, he added "Look, most students your age are still wrestling with fetishism, how to hide episodic crossdressing from their parents or peers, or whether they're homosexual.

You seem to have a clear idea of what you are and you have lived enough in both genders to have a basis to form an educated decision.

I explained to Professor Young that I anticipated some of my professors would have difficuly accepting me as Paula in their classrooms and that an authoritative person that they could be referred to might help.

I shared my doubts that my mother could accept my decision, but added that I had a sympathetic aunt, my mother's sister. He felt that whatever decision I made had to be right for me and only me.

When I decided what was right, he would help to make it happen. I thanked him for his time and went back to our apartment. I continued in the identity that I had established for each part of my life school, work, Michelle for the remainder of the semester.

As the end of the semester approached, I prepared myself to discuss my plans with Mom.

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