So the sensuality of the clothes of this period reached me via the sound that is obviously so important to many of your contributors. Added to this, you will understand that I had no legitimate way of exploring the source of this wonderful rustling, the sound of stockings moving against slips. I was aware that friends at home could peak at such things in those mysterious things called mail order catalogues, which to me were merely flat glossy pages - so near and yet so far. I can remember getting slapped more than once as a five year old when crawling under a table, trying to explore what was going on under women's skirts "by accident." "Don't do that, it's rude!"

I guess it's not surprising that when I got a female part in a school play when I was around 15, and got my first chance to wear stockings, this partially answered some of these sensual mysteries, and partially compensated for the absence of female intimacy in my life. You may imagine that this is a huge under-statement of how it felt.

After that, I would try on my mother's slips, stockings, and girdles during the holidays at home. In retrospect, I'm not proud of this of course, and I can't believe she didn't notice, but she never mentioned it - perhaps she just pretended it wasn't happening.

In my auditory and tactile universe, this window on female sensuality, or what I, as a male, think of as female sensuality, has remained very precious to me, in spite of successful relationships with women. This kind of conditioning is powerful stuff. But it's a harmless form of pleasure, and, like many of those who record their experiences here, I think many men are missing something by clinging obstinately to their stereotypical view of macho masculinity.