I had finally worked up the courage to explain to my wife that I liked to wear panties. I dressed off and on in her clothes for years, and she didn't suspect a thing. Before that, when I was single, I had taken to snatching the odd pair of panties out of the dryer in whatever apartment building I was living at the time. When I was a little boy I had always wanted to be pretty like a girl, and sometimes went through my mom's or grandma's things, looking for underwear that would make me feel like a girl. I never told my wife about all that; I didn't have to, because a couple months ago she jokingly asked me if I wanted to wear her panties one night while she got up to go get something in the middle of a love making session. She came back to find me wearing them, and didn't think too deeply about it.

When I told her that I wanted to wear panties more, I did explain that it was something I had thought about since I was young. She was understanding. Because of this, I now had the freedom to go to the store and buy some of my own things that would fit me properly. Luckily it was Christmas season, and I could comfortably browse without arousing any suspicion.

I went to the mall one day to make my second purchase; I was looking for a matching tank top/panty set, and was disappointed to find that they didn't actually exist. Well, at least I couldn't find anything where the colors were exactly the same.

So I was in this big clothing store looking at the tank tops, trying to find something in a bright color that had that sporty narrow racerback patch that goes down the center of the back. I was unsure about the sizes. I was afraid to hold anything up to my body to see if it'd fit, so I devised a plan to try on a men's shirt and take the opportunity to test out the items that I was supposedly going to buy for my wife.

I perused the racks and displays and found myself drawn to this bright yellow tank top which I snatched up in a medium that I figured would go well with some yellow cheeky boy brief panties with a wide black lace waist band.

So I went to the dressing room area, and told the attendant that I'd like to try on the men's red striped v-neck shirt that I had picked out. He was in his late twenties, had a rather muscular chest which I could easily see because he was wearing some rather tight clothes; a simple white tee shirt, and some really expensive looking jeans that had that fake worn-in look. They were tight around his thighs, but loose at the bottom; boot cut. He looked at me for just a second too long, and said, "no problem", before handing me a little metal "3", and leading me to the last dressing room, kind of around a corner at the end of the hall.

"Convenient," I thought. I first tried the men's shirt on. I did it quickly just to get it over with, then I went to try on the yellow tank. It was definitely too small. It fit really tight, which was fine. It makes me feel sexy to have really tight clothing, but I figured that if it didn't cover by stomach and lower back, people might see my panties sticking out of my jeans from behind if I ever bent down to pick something up. Maybe if I was out of town I could get away with that.

I pulled it up over my head, and was making sure that I didn't leave any of my long hair on it while I turned it right side out, when there was a light knock at the door.

"Hello" I said.

The change room attendant spoke up and said, "I brought you something else to try that matches what you've already picked out."

I cracked the door open, and he handed me a yellow bra which went with the panties that I had picked out. I hesitated for a second and looked at him in the eyes, which gave me a kind of sexy look I had never seen in a man before. I was speechless, and reached out and took it from him and closed the door. It was an A cup, but had a soft gel padding that made it look like a B.

A couple minutes later, I had it all on.

I heard a click at the door and startled, turning to see the attendant slip in. I was so nervous. I have never considered myself bisexual, but dressed in these things, I felt so feminine, and sexy, and wanted whatever he had in mind. In retrospect, I think I always wanted what was about to happen.

He put his finger to his lips telling me to keep quiet. Definitely unnecessary. He put his hand around me in the naked small of my back, and pulled me in to his chest. He smelt so sexy and masculine. I was limp in his grasp. He kissed me lightly on my neck. He rubbed his other hand up my hip, gently brushing my skin and up my body to feel my "breasts". I bent my head down and kissed his hand. He responded by holding it up for me so I could suck his finger.

My hands woke up and found their place on his masculine body, exploring his strong chest muscles, and reaching down his front to feel his hard cock through his tight jeans. I knew then that that was what I wanted, and so did he.

I pulled his shirt up over his head. I frantically pulled at his belt buckle, fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, and pulled them down to his feet, kneeling down in front of him as I did.

"There's no time for that," he whispered to me, as he took my hand and pulled my to my feet.

It was then that he grabbed me by the hips and spun me around. I reached behind me and started to milk his precum with the gentle slow strokes that every man knows so well. His cock felt so good in my hand; soft, hard, wet. 

The attendant pulled my panties down just enough so he could get at my anus. It felt so dirty to be doing this. I swirled the precum around the head of his penis with my thumb, while at the same time, he spat on his fingers, and rubbed it on my waiting anus. We were both as ready as we'd ever be, so I bent over and put both my hands on the wall, doing my best to tilt my ass up towards his cock. I arched my back.

He pushed his cock against my ass hole. I pushed out, relaxing it as much as I could. I've played with myself enough to know that this was the best way to loosen up. Then, not long after, he slipped inside me, and it was heaven. He started slow, in and out, an inch at a time, getting deeper with every slow thrust. I started to push back, in rhythm, giving him the cue to speed up. 

He grabbed my hip with his left hand. With his right, he bunched up my hair and pulled my head back; his cock going deeper and deeper into me. My hips pushed back onto him faster and harder. He pulled me back onto him. He made thrust after thrust with my head almost violently pulled back by his grip on my hair.

My own precum was soaking the new panties I was going to buy. The rhythm we built up started to falter, and he began to ram his cock into me in hard, fast thrusts. He let go of my hair, and grabbed my hips from both sides. I felt so amazing, so sexy, and thought it couldn't get any better until he stopped thrusting, and I could feel his manhood begin to pulse and shoot ounces and ounces of cum into my ass. And something I couldn't believe, I went weak at the knees as my own cock started to quiver and shoot sweet cum all intI was certainly in a daze. I don't remember much of what happened after that. I didn't make it home with the bra, but wore the cum soaked panties home with me. The next day I savored the taste of his sweet cum that had drained out of my ass into them,