Granny lets you smell her sweaty pits
October 15, 2026
I glance down at my boxers, The black fabric sitting on my thighs and around my waist securely, cool against my skin and i can feel a bit of a breeze draft through them in the cool room. Suddenly feeling ridiculous for the reason i’m about to take them off but also, feeling maybe a little excitement at the same time. “This is insane and embarrassing, Aunt Sarah, why do i have to wear those?” I protest, my voice cracking slightly. At 28, I’m a grown adult man, but right now I feel like a kid caught doing something naughty by his auntie.
“And what exactly is insane about looking sexy, Jason?” she asks, her voice dripping with that commanding tone I’ve known since childhood that she’d use sometimes. She stands before me while i’m sitting on my bed, holding up a yellow brassiere with some white lace trips and a pair of nylon panties to match that i’d have to put on where my boxers were supposed to be. The Victoria’s Secret bag sits beside her with her earlier shopping, almost taunting in how humiliating it was but that’s all it was, what she brought for me to wear was more personal that that and it always was and the bag was an excuse.
I watch as she holds the brassier to her own breasts and the panties to her waist front, almost like she was showing off how they’d look on. “These are my favorites,” she says softly. “They’d look perfect on you.” Her eyes meet mine, and suddenly the protest dies on my lips. Maybe it’s her smile that does it, maybe it’s the way she’s looking at me like i’m something else rather than a man or her nephew. Either way, I can’t say no when she wants something so badly.
My fingers fumble with my boxers waistband as I pull them down and step out of them, leaving me completely exposed and naked to her gaze, with her even seeing what she calls my little clitty button between my legs, she says sometimes that i’m lucky to have such a thing because it’s easier to put her brassiere and panties over. “Now the pair, put them on sweetheart” she instructs, her voice firm yet gentle. I slip them on over exposed skin, feeling the fabrics hugging places that boxers or regular clothing never did. A wave of heat washes over me as her eyes travel down my body, taking in every inch.
“Perfect,” she whispers, stepping closer to me. Her hand rests on my hips where the waist band of the nylon sat now, she grabbed it and pulling me toward her a little. “You see how nice they feel? How they show off what life gave you?” I swallow hard, nodding. They feel strange and different than what i’m used too, yet strangely right, especially with her standing so close and moving me around like that.. I was fumbling around with the other to try and get it on just right
She notices the readjustment and reaches for the brassiere to help fix it justttt right over me, right enough to fit comfortably over my chest. “hopefully that’s better for you, oh you look so pretty” she chirps, her voice raising and almost sounding enthused about the whole situation i’m in. her hands trace the outline of the fabric around my chest, sending shivers through me. “See how pretty they make you look?” she murmurs, her breath hot against my ear as she’s gotten close. “You’re such a good girl for me.”
When it comes to my auntie and her having me try on her things, even getting really close like this, my resistance continues to fade. I’m not just wearing panties or the brassiere anymore, She’s transforming me and it’s so hard to resist. The nylon fabric caresses my skin in ways I never imagined possible, especially with my auntie praising every movement, every look, every curve.
Suddenly I get the feeling that, wearing them doesn’t seem so strange anymore. Especially not with her looking at me like that, like this is all so normal and that I don’t have to feel bad or shame for it.
“Beautiful,” she breathes, her hand slipping beneath the hem. “Just beautiful.” In that moment, I know I’ll do anything she asks, wear anything she wants, as long as she keeps looking at me like I’m her perfect little boy. I am, aren’t I? now that isn’t starting to feel right in this situation.
Right now, with her fingers tracing up to my hardening nipples, I couldn’t be anything else. The thought makes my sissy clitty twitch, and her knowing smile tells me she felt it too. This isn’t about me being a nephew anymore, it’s about being her girl, completely in all the ways that matter, trying on her clothes, dressing up and all and I can’t deny that sometimes it makes me a little more excited and makes my little clitty stand up, she tells me that she didn’t notice it happening because she couldn’t see it and that gets my blood pumping even more.
“I love seeing you like this,” she whispers, her free hand cupping my cheek. “My beautiful girl, wearing my stuff.” I shudder at her words, the excitement building inside me. There’s no turning back now, not with her touching me like this, not with the lace and nylon hugging where it shouldn’t.
Her phone sits on the bedside table, within reach. With a sly smile, she moves her hands out and picks it up. “I wanna keep this memory forever, you wouldn’t mind auntie taking a picture of you like this now would you?,” she suggests, her thumb already scrolling so she could get ready to take a photo of me. “to keep and look at whenever i’m missing my pretty nephew.”
she tells me to say cheese while holding up the phone, I realize this isn’t just about trying on panties anymore. It’s about being hers, completely, and loving every second of it. When she’s done she turns the phone around so that I can see myself. Standing there, doing a small pose for the camera as if my body wasn’t shy enough to do it this time like the others, it feels so good to be know like this, by her.
