Laundry Day - 3 Final ChapterThis is a total fantasy about a panty boy and his love of the garments that are part of his life. The final chapter of the Laundry Day story finds our friend Larry cross dressing and having sex with the young woman he met in the Laundromat. Hope you enjoy.

My cock surged in my panties with the sight of the vintage lingerie in the package Ashley had left at my door. Yes, I have cross dressed through the years. And there were women in my life that I tried to encourage to accept my desire to dress. In some cases my attempt was as simple as me wearing their panties as part of sexual play. In every case I was rebuffed and the relationship ended badly.

Having met Ashley in the laundromat while doing my weekly panty wash I was pleasantly pleased to have her show interest in my desires. She was the second woman in my life that accepted my desires. My mother kept me supplied in panties and as an adult I knew her motivation was to prevent me from becoming impulsive in my search for the comfort of a garment that I desired.

Within this box was perhaps the ultimate fantasy for a guy like me. First there was a bright red slip that would cover my entire body with the silken feeling of nylon and lace. All the garments were the highest quality lingerie and inspecting the tags and construction told me this was a set from the 1950’s when women, and their partners, knew what a quality undergarment was beyond comfort for the person wearing it. It was a sensual arousing display of femininity.

The bodice of the slip was the softest delicate lace that would provide the details that the skirt portion lacked. But the skirt would be so sensuous, especially if the person that wore it had freshly shaved legs. The flare leg panties would allow the sensual feel of nylon, delicate lace trim on the leg openings, and room for my cock and balls.

Perhaps the most erotic item in this box was the padded bra. It was the exact color of the slip and panties and would complete a feminine form on my male body and even though most of my cross dressing had been in panties, the occasional slip, or a night gown, I was anxious to fill the slip with the breasts that I lacked.

My hands trembled as I touched the delicate fabric. This was a gift beyond anything I ever received. My mother gave me my first panties out of love but that is a mother’s love for her son. This was different, a woman does not fall in love in a few minutes. I knew that this gift had to be from a woman that truly wanted to share in my fetish, or at least I hoped that is what it was. But would I have the courage to wear the garments and step across the hall to a woman that I had met a few hours ago?