Septuagenarian. Male. Into many things. Many, many things. Came to Tumblr mainly for the cars; found lots of other things to stay for. Now trying to figure out sex in the 70’s; making the best of not so great situation, so to speak. Probably NSFW. Most people won’t be interested, unless they are 55+. Minors don’t belong here; you’ll get here much faster than you think. None of the content is mine, except as noted; if it’s yours and you don’t want it here, I’ll take it down. Probably will be more words than pictures. The pics that there are are likely to represent ideas rather than actual events.We’ll see how much trouble I get in before abandoning the whole project.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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Took me a while to find this in my Likes but finally decided to repost it. While not a perfect description of my situation, it"s close enought for me to be able to say, "I get it."
Our Little Secret. Why all the Fuss?
Men who prefer to wear women’s underwear, by whatever name they are referred to, often protect a secret known only to a few. I am one of those men.

Articles in my blog recount the story. My path to becoming a man who has a preference for wearing panties, rather than the underwear men are, “supposed to wear.” Over the last 15 years or so, I have acquired hundreds of panties, in styles, colors, patterns and fabrics too numerous to recall. I have worn some out, and become tired or bored with others. I have left them, lost them, given them away, and discarded them. I have been a member of Tumblr and Flickr, and have sought or visited other sites catering to men who share my affinity – fetish or predilection – for wearing women’s underwear. I find them irresistible, and am fascinated by the never-ending variety. Panties are the most interesting articles of clothing I wear, and I give more thought and consideration to those I put on every day than any other garment. I sincerely find them more comfortable, and like how they look and feel on my body. Seeing myself in them, motivates me to maintain a trim, fit, masculine physique and to trim or shave body hair, particularly pubic hair which I find unattractive unless closely trimmed on men, or women.
My wife knows I wear panties, and only panties. She is somewhat ambivalent at times, and typically gives no more attention to the panties I am wearing than her own; regarding them as a utilitarian garment, more so than one of allure, intrigue, fun or a personal expression as I do. Over the years, she has indulged my affinity by shopping for underwear with me, and once or twice, buying me panties. She has modeled beside me in matching panties; a happy event, arousing. Occasionally, she indulges how excitable I can sometimes become while wearing them as she touches me through the thin, silky, soft fabric; just as a man might do for a woman. You can imagine my reaction.
At times, she will remind me when my panties are ‘showing’. Peeking over the waistband of my shorts or pants, where someone might catch a glimpse of them. She would rather this not happen. My wife’s anxiety over my being ‘discovered’ is more acute than my own. At the same time, I am somewhat hopeful that someone will notice the scalloped trim, lace, satin or other characteristics of ‘women’s panties’ rather than the pain elastic of underwear one might typically expect a man to wear. I would welcome the attention or notice; provided it was kind, genuine and affirming – which no man who wears panties really expects.
I have shared my preference for panties personally and openly with very few others. My brother knows. He shares my fetish; though his is manifested more in a fascination with tiny men’s swimwear, (i.e. Speedos). My massage therapist, a gay man. An old college sweetheart and lover. Men I have become acquainted with online, only a few of whom I have ever met in person. I have worn panties openly in the presence of my dermatologist, for other medical exams and in public, men’s locker rooms. No one has ever taken notice, asked about or challenged by choice. Over the years, I have modeled many, many panties for the camera, and have shared or posted hundreds of images online for affirmation, admiration, excitation, and to invite thoughtful conversation.
Part of me would like it if my fascination with panties were not a closely held secret, known by so few, but was something about me that was as obvious and open as other choices in clothing, or other aspects of my personality and individual preferences. I would love to flaunt it like women sometimes do, showing a subtle wisp of my soft, lacy, colorful lingerie.
I find it odd, that in today’s culture of openness about sexual and gender identity, and many other lifestyle choices, men like myself who wear panties are still so much in the shadows. Guarded. Unwilling to identify themselves by name, or in photographic images. Some not even sharing their fetish with wives or girlfriends; hiding an entire wardrobe of undergarments.
Little has been written on the topic. Scientific or academic papers or books on the subject are almost nonexistent. Few people have any awareness or understanding of the difference between men who wear panties (and perhaps other lingerie or other women’s clothing) and cross dressers. Many wrongly assume men who wear panties must be bisexual, gay or transgender; and while some are, wearing panties is indeterminate of no other choice, or lifestyle, or trait. While LGBTQ support groups abound, with members holding meetings at churches and across the most conservative communities worldwide, I am unaware of any similar support or affinity group for men who wear panties.
And what if someone did find out? What if someone inadvertently saw that a man was wearing panties under his ‘gender-appropriate attire’? Caught a glimpse of the lacy waistband, satin, silk or nylon fabric, or colorful, flowery pattern of “his panties”? THAT is the anxiety, fear or worry that seems most troublesome to men I have spoken to, or corresponded with. It is the thing that is most bothersome to men who share this affinity, and have made the choice to wear panties rather than something else. THAT is the thing, it seems, that strikes fear into their heart. The dread of ridicule. The sadness of being bullied. The stigma or being labelled or defined by the ignorance of others.
Oddly, unlike many other personal choices, the choice to wear women’s underwear, rather than men’s, harms no one. It poses none of the risks of alcohol or drugs, careless driving, or other unsafe behaviors.
Even if you are a man who wears women’s underwear (panties), or are the partner of one who does, are you certain that you would not be taken aback or show surprise, if tomorrow you learned that a man you know wears panties? You shouldn’t be. Any man, married or single, of any ethnicity, gender identity, sexual orientation, age, religion, nationality, or profession might have made the same choice that many other men have. HE MIGHT BE WEARING PANTIES!
I can assure you, while we may be ‘different’, we are not alone, and there is no fault, personality flaw, shortcoming or sin in the choice.
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As long as you’re not an unkind person (no bigotry), are inherently honest and are willing to offer a hand up to those that need it, you are welcome and safe here.
reblog if you’re a safe place for:
lesbian
gay
bisexual
transgender
queer
pansexual
demisexual
ace
hopeless romantics
cis-men
cis-women
non binary folks
the whole spectrum etc…
follow everyone who reblogs ;)
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Sorry dad, I know traditionally you're supposed to teach me to shave but the hot internet transgender women taught me more about shaving than any man ever could
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My "Likes" ❤️ ❤️ are so much dirtier than my actual posts.
Reblog if you agree and can relate
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Do you ever just wonder if you cross someone’s mind as they’re driving home, doing dishes, laundry, the mundane things when it really matters
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If you’ve read the pinned post at the top of this blog, the following story may make a lot more sense. If you haven’t, go back to the top, read it and then come back here.
Leading up to retirement there was a bit of a frenzy in our lives that didn’t leave a lot of time for us as a couple. One of the contributing factors was a brief but nasty bout with cancer that required surgery and radiation therapy close enough to my genitalia that the inevitable scatter radiation left me with a testosterone level of not enough for anything sex related. While unfortunate for me, it was grossly unfair to my wife. There was no reason for her to not be able to enjoy a satisfying sex life if I could be open minded and inventive enough to come up with a solution.
Enter the world of sex toys.
I have searched and searched for one particular review of a harness made for lesbians that a man in circumstances similar to mine found useful. I wish I could find it so I could properly credit the origin; if by some miracle the author happens to see this, please let me know so I can thank you for the idea.
Anyway, the guy was suffering from ED, the drugs had more side effects than the benefits were worth, and he had a cute, curvy wife 13 years his junior. He discovered that he could wear this harness designed to hold an acceptable dildo for the lady and still expose his junk to her butt cheeks. With plenty of lube, she was able to get off multiple times and he got what good feelings he could.
I opted for a device with was intended for double penetration and I used the upper ring and put the “Coney Island Wife-Tamer” in the lower ring. This has and continues to work well for us, and has allowed us to continue our exploration of what can be done if we are willing to adapt.
It has also allowed me to pursue some of my fantasies driven by my appreciation of “women’s things.” As it turns out, my wife is one of those people that loves to wear matching clothes out in public. I don’t mind the “matchy-matchy” thing; in fact, it has some practical applications, like if we get separated at the store and I can’t see her (she is…short), I can ask anyone, “Have seen a short brunette wearing a (whatever I have on)?” “Yeah; she’s in the baked goods aisle.”
The logical extension of this, given my appreciation of “women’s things” is we now often wear matching underwear.
I’ll bet you saw that coming a mile away.
She has hers, I have mine and we have ours. Turns out not only is it fun, given my fried and shrunken junk, they actually fit better.
There is more!
Between several back injuries and a prostate the size of a small potato, it will come as no surprise that I have some degree of urinary incontinence. Again, given my lack of male endowments, male incontinence products are too big. Plus, there only about three options; too big; waaaaay too big and men’s pull ups with too much room, all of which cause me to leak.
The options available to women are on an order of magnitude greater and I have no second thoughts about using whatever works.
This is all fine with me since in my younger days, seeing a woman in white lace underwear was a big turn on; seeing a woman in white lace underwear with a pad in them would almost make me shoot my shorts. Now, I can wear that combination anytime I want, get a little thrill out of it while getting dressed and then not worry about pissing my pants.
And when I mow the lawn, I put on a woman’s pull up and don’t have to get off the tractor every 15 minute’s because I’ve taken diuretics for my blood pressure.
Who knew that have a panty fetish and being a variation of a diaper lover would one day be practical solutions to problems associated with being to old to cut the mustard…but still being able to lick the lid?!
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Long intro; sorry but a necessary evil.
Apparently, empty blogs are not well thought of. I can understand that; I seem to have my fair share of empty blogs following me. I guess they are bots, but I have no real understanding of what they are trying to do.
Anyway, it’s difficult to know where to start. At once, I don’t have much to say, but there are also a million things on my mind. So, I’ll start with some not too interesting basics.
Married>4 decades. Monogamous and intending to stay that way. She is 10 years younger and the owner of the purest of minds. Her darkest thoughts are some temporary ill will toward drivers that act like assholes. Other than that, there is no hidden agenda. Once people understand that, literally, what you see is what you get, pretty much everyone loves her.
This leads to a necessary arrangement in our relationship. There was another post somewhere on Tumblr that was very descriptive of how things are and I wish I could find it again so I could give the OP credit. To paraphrase:
“By default, we have a dominant/submissive relationship. As the dominant, it is my duty to protect her and keep her safe. As the submissive, her duty is to keep me together by tending to my needs. I am much, much better at big picture issues; she is far better at managing the day-to-day details of life. So, I let her run the show and I make sure she has the stable framework to do it.”
So it is with us. She knows it. And she loves it.
Then, there came a time that a perfect storm hit around 2010’s that led me to Tumblr, and to starting this blog.
Number one: I have been surrounded by women my entire life; mom (of course), sisters (many…with many girlfriends), classmates (~50% female), teachers (probably 80% female), coworkers (~95% females -nurses, nursing students, nurses aides, ward clerks, lab techs, med techs, physical therapists, etc. - yes, I worked in the medical field), a first wife (failed) and my wife of 40+ years.
I have a great deal of respect for women. I get along with women better than men. But, I am still a man, and I like women; every woman has something beautiful about her. I like looking at women, women’s things, especially my wife’s things.
I like sex. I like sexy things. I like sex with my wife and her sexy things.
So, I guess I’m a horny old feminist, if there is such a thing.
Now that we have that established (as the first element of the perfect storm), just about the same time I discovered Tumblr via Pinterest (looking at cars -I like them, too), my wife and decided that we should watch “Game of Thrones.” In one particular scene a couple of Little Fingers “employees” were “practicing” in the background; it was kinda hot to watch. Sometime later, my wife asked me if I liked watching that sort of thing. Rather than answering with, “Is a frogs ass watertight?!?!” I said, “It’s pretty sexy; why do you ask?” I wasn’t quite ready for her answer; “I think I like watching that kind of thing,” as she blushed really pink. I’m thinking to myself that maybe this girl had never watched anything close to resembling porn. Much to my surprise, she had not. I don’t know how she managed to miss it, since it’s everywhere, to some degree. It turns out that watching people make out in soap operas and rom-coms was about as steamy as things had ever gotten for her. Mind you, this is after nearly forty years of marriage and two kids. In terms of sexual fantasies, my wife is nearly a virgin. I kid you not.
We decided that we might watch “50 Shades of Grey” to see what the hoopla was about it, since we had only heard snippets of second hand opinions.
Since we watched it, she has read all six books and we bought Blu-rays of all three movies.
So, take one horny old feminist, a mentally sexual virgin and a Tumblr account BEFORE 2017, and you have the perfect storm of a veritable sex-plosion at our house! How handy for a couple of empty nesters.
We were still a few years from retirement so the stresses of a couple of high-pressure jobs kept us from really getting into the swing of things, but did we ever have plans!
Keep in mind that I’m a 70-something and she’s…not. Keeping ahead of her with fresh ideas lead me to scouring Tumblr for ideas that might keep her budding interest alive.
Old guys need some help sometimes; you’ll find out how much as we go along.
For now, the stage is set and the reason I’m mining Tumblr should be pretty clear.
At some point I’ll add some pics of what we came up with; it won’t be us, but rather “proxies” that are much more pleasant to view.
Eventually, time and circumstance has taken a toll. Stay tuned to see how I got to where I am today and why I'm kinda interested in a lot of different things. Essentially, I'm trying to figure out what to do with what's left of me.
So. No, I’m not a bot; I just need to figure out how to say what I want to say so that it makes sense. So, thanks for all this good stuff. And please don’t block me if I follow you. The reason I did is because I think I have something to learn from you. Like, maybe I’m not as alone as I think I may be.
Blaze
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