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Showing results for tags 'puberty'.
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I don't know for sure what triggered my fetish. I have theories I came up with later in life, but who can know for sure? What I can say is that I had a remarkably normal childhood, was toilet-trained at an average age, and did not ever regress into bedwetting. I recall feeling jealous of my younger sisters who were still in nappies, and I acted on this by stealing and hoarding their plastic panties which I would wear over terry-towelling diapers similarly "collected". I would often go into their bedrooms to look at and touch the nylon material of their baby pants which were packed in the bureau next to their beds. There was never an overt cause for my 'interest', and my parents never knew I had it. The catalyst was puberty. I discovered masturbation very late (at the age of 14, nearly 15) and in a roundabout way. Up until then, all I knew was that whenever I wore a nappy, my penis would immediately stiffen like a ramrod and get in the way of me pinning it on. For some reason, I didn't associate my erection with sexual pleasure, but that was because I didn't know what sexual pleasure was back then. From about the age of 13, I had started wearing nappies and waterproof pants every chance I got because it just felt 'right': they made me feel safe in the time of personal turmoil which was probably the onset of puberty. I committed significant resources to the purchase of big towelling nappies and the largest white nylon plastic pants I could find. We had a large house with more than an acre of wooded garden, and, as luck would have it, my bedroom was in a wing away from the rest of the family, so all three of my sisters had their own rooms in the main house. My routine was pretty much the same each night. I would do my homework, show it to my parents and then retire to my room. After a shower, I would towel myself dry and then stand in front of a full-length mirror and carefully pin on one of those fluffy white nappies. My nascent fetish didn't have a lot to do with the nappy itself, rather and exclusively it was with the plastic pants. To this day, I use the nappy to make the experience more 'genuine'. I reason that there is little point in wearing the sexy pants which are meant to cover a nappy without wearing the nappy itself, and the mirror was important to get the pins in exactly the right place - a task complicated by having to keep shoving my over-eager penis back into the inviting folds of its nappy. After it was properly pinned, I would slowly and indulgently unfold a glorious pair of nylon waterproofs, roll the white material between my fingertips to hear the characteristic crackling sound, then pull them over my nappy and the huge bulge of my straining teenaged penis in its towelling prison. To be honest, my hardon really used to bug me. It was in the way! That was until the fateful day when EVERYTHING changed... I remember the first time I masturbated clearly, although it was nothing as simple as stroking myself like a normal person. I was busy with the nightly ritual of putting myself into a nappy when my unruly penis broke free of the nappy's waistband at the moment I was pulling the waterproofs up over the towelling; its head actually touching the rustling plastic. Time stood still. My hips began to pump uncontrollably, I must have gasped while looking down at the rapidly-swelling head which had suddenly turned deep purple as an unbearable wave of pleasure spread throughout my groin. And then it happened : I shot an incredible amount of cum onto the mirror before falling over backwards in what can only be described as a dead faint. I lay twitching with pleasure for a long time before I was able to sit and take stock. My penis, which had gone soft after my very first ejaculation was already on the way up, my waterproofs were still only half on, and the mirror was literally covered in massive gobs of white semen, some of which had followed gravity and were pooling on the carpet. (Two days after this truly awesome event, my mother asked me about a stain a foot ABOVE the full-length mirror which I saw to my horror was dried semen. I professed not to know what it was, and cleaned it off immediately!) Anyway, I stood shakily and tried to put my throbbing penis back into the nappy, but it was too hard to bend and was very sensitive to the touch. I lay down on the bed and tried to work it into the nappy sideways, simultaneously pulling the waterproof pants over the nappy with my other hand. And it happened again! As I heard the nylon crackle, I shot my next load without warning straight off the bed at an angle of 90 degrees to hit the opposite wall with some collateral damage to the bed linen. This time, it took longer to recover. I lay moaning, shuddering and writhing for what seemed like hours. My dick was so sensitive that the slightest movement brought on exquisite pain, but eventually the erection subsided and I was able to do what I had been trying for the last hour: to put my penis where I had wanted it. I fell off the bed, crawled to the bathroom to get a roll of TP for the cleanup operation. I was dazed, confused and operating on auto-pilot. I had known the facts of life in abstract; my parents had briefed me many years earlier and I had picked up snippets of wild stories, rumours and speculation at school, but had never really put the two together. I'm sure I was the last of my class to ejaculate, and I had done it without actually touching myself deliberately. It was a lot for a naive youngster to assimilate. All I knew that night was that those glorious white nylon waterproof pants (with their supportive nappy) were responsible for the greatest pleasure I had ever experienced. Nothing much has changed in the intervening 30-plus years, I have to say .
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