I missed the part where you put your underpants on, so I’m assuming you are standing there naked from the waist down as you, your sister, and your mother get into the “rat faced chewer” laughing episode. I love my mom dearly, but I think I would have had to put some underpants back on somewhere in there.
Everyone loses things at the laundramat. It’s an eternal question. Where did that shirt go. Why do I have six mismatched socks?
Well, if the article in question is a small pair of white women’s panties, with an embroidered pink pig, I can tell you right where they are. 
That’s the best part plnnr. My sister was in her robe, I was in a t-shirt and no underpants and my mom was in her pajamas.
My husband and father just sat silently downstairs and listened to the mayhem as we banged around upstairs.
jarbaby
Story One
In first grade, all of my underwear had some type of design on it. I didn’t especially like it that way, but it was what my mom bought, so I wore it. One day I was wearing my polka-dotted pair. We were playing Twister that day in school. I was on all fours, and my spandex stirrup pants (Don’t knock those! They were cool then!) were slowly creeping down my butt. I didn’t notice this, though, until a boy started shouting, “Polka-dotted pannies!” I retorted, “Nuh-uh!” even though I knew everyone could see my underwear. It was very traumatic at the time.
Story Two
I was at Old Navy a month ago, and I was casually looking for new underwear. They had tons and tons of packages of L and XL and XXL panties, but nothing in an XS or even a S. Finally, I saw a days-of-the-week set in the clearance section. They were labeled S, so I bought them. It turned out that I had no Monday undies, and two Tuesdays. Someone had swapped the Monday for the Tuesdays! To make it even worse, Tuesday was the buttnastiest colour ever (peachish-pink). To make it even worse, they don’t fit very well - they are too big.
What a coincidence, because I’ve realized that in my underpants I have three good arseholes!
Well, one, anyway.
And I guess it’s not THAT good.
Sorry. I think I’ll leave now.
(Exits stage right, mumbling incomprehensibly)
Are you SURE you didn’t mean to post this to your “What if Real Life were more like porn” thread?
I have an underpants story, but its not as funny as some here:
Supposedly at the Dopapalooza this summer, I tried to walk two different directions at one time, which resulted in an inadvertent panty flash to Xploder.
I have no memory of this event for some reason and, unfortunately, wasn’t wearing pretty panties, only utilitarian ones. I’ll try to do better next time. 
MR Duhnym and I were in the garage playing strip-darts.
The way we play involves straight cricket, but for every 20 points scored against you, you must remove one piece of clothing. Once clothing is gone, it moves on to sexual favors…
I have long accused Mr Duhnym of point gouging (he does!) which pisses me off because I don’t play that way.
I throw first. One 20, an 18.
He throws. Triple 20. Triple 18. Another 20.
I pick up a pair of 12 inch gardening shears and cut both sides of my panties. Pull them out of my shorts, hand them to him and walk into the house, quitting.
At the Mardi Gras DFW dopefest, Ayesha and LionSOB arrived from out of town MANY hours before the party started, and dropped in to make sure they knew where the house was. I was sitting in the dining room chatting with them, and Chef Jr. heard Ayesha’s voice and thought it was his mom; he came running in yelling “Hey Mom!” in his t-shirt and his Scooby Doo underpants (did I mention Chef Jr. is seven?), skidded to a halt when he realized it wasn’t mom, flung his hands in front of his crotch in the classic cartoon pose, and backed hurriedly out of the room.
Astrogirl and I had just finished doing the nasty when there was a knock on the door (several other teachers that I worked with lived in the same building that I lived in). Now, my instinct is to say nothing and wait for whoever it is to go away, rather than jump up and ruin our post-coital cuddle… but Astrogirl calls out, “Who is it?”
IDIOT Astrogirl! And usually she’s so sensible…:rolleyes:
A voice came through the door: “It’s B!” (B was a teacher that I worked with at the time… he’s in Japan now.)
Muttering curses, I got up and quickly pulled on the clothing that I had quickly removed about a half hour earlier… Astrogirl pulled the blankets up to cover her luscious nakedidty…
I opened the door to see B and two teen-age Korean girls who both gasped and froze!
B was oblivious… “These two girls were my students last month, and they’re really cool! NEXT month they will be YOUR students, so I thought I’d introduce you to them!”
My soon-to-be teenage students looked at me, looked at the obviously freshly-copulated Astrogirl trying to play innocent in my bed, looked back at me, and then dropped their eyes to my feet… where my jockey-shorts were hanging out of the cuff of my pants…
Awkward, very awkward!
To their credit, the two girls actually showed up to my class for the next month… though everytime I mentioned Astrogirl, they exchanged a knowing look…
To this day, Astrogirl is sensitive to this topic! 
Oh! One more!
A few months after the previously mentioned fiasco, Astrogirl and I were again in the midst of a post-coital cuddle when there was a knock on the door…
This time it was D, my best friend (now in San Diego).
“Hey! Come on! we’re going to look at the comet (Hale-Bopp… both D and I are astronomy geeks…)!”
Astrogirl and I jump up and quickly pull on clothing (minimum, as we expect to be on the roof of the building for only a few minutes… amateur astronomy suffers quite a bit when you are living in Seoul…)
On our way out the door, I notice a pair of panties draped over my computer keyboard… Hey! Comedy presents itself when it will! I stuffed them into my pocket…
A group of about 10 of us headed to the roof of the building. Once there, we observed the comet for a while, and in the midst of this, I whispered in Astrogirl’s ear, “Hey, I have something for you!” And slipped her panties into her hand…
“What the… AAAHHHHHHH!!!”, screamed Astrogirl.
To this day, D keeps asking me, “What the hell was she screaming about on the roof that night?”
I just smile and tell him to ask her…
OK, I am an ass. I admit it… but it was FUNNY, dammit!!
This happened many years ago, back when KVS and KVS’s sister were young enough to go on vacation, and stay in mommy and daddy’s room, too. My father was walking around in his holey boxers. Sister takes a look and says, “Daddy! Is it show and tell time?!” That was the last time my father walked around in his boxers in front of us.
Ugh, here we go (as I write this story, I’m wondering, ‘What the hell was I thinking?’)~
Going back 10 years to my bachelor party, I’m twenty yrs. old. Mind you this is the first one of these shin-digs I’ve been to and I’ve never even seen a stripper. The party was being held at a co-worker’s apartment and I’m trying to be cool. I dressed to impress; not knowing if there was going to any strippers to impress (like she’d care). It was in this spirit that I wore the new underpants my soon-to-be-wife bought for me. The underpants in question were of the string bikini bent, using a minimum of fabric. Of the fabric that was present, it was done in a sort of jungle motif. (Say it with me, ‘What the hell was I thinking’) So eventually the stripper arrives to perform. Her act begins with putting me in the middle of the room, sitting in a chair. But before she’ll strip, she wants me in to strip down to my underpants. SH!T!!! At the urging of the crowd gathered, I do as requested. She performs her act while I try to maintain thoughts of nuns and baseball, lest I ‘pop-out’ and give the guys another show. I sat in that chair with my entire body ridged(except where I was being self-conscience) and hated the entire time.
~t
C’mon this is stolen from Penthouse letters. You need to begin these stories “Things like this never happen to me, but…”
OK, so the price of admission should be a story of my own: Does a teddy count? A long time ago, when I was [still] young and foolish, I met a very attractive women at a bar near my Uni. She was a bit older than me, and obviously more experienced, but we got on quite well. We retired to somewhere more private, and had gotten into heavy petting when I realized she had some bizarre undergarment on that I couldn’t figure out. No clasps to undo on top; no panties to slip off on the bottom. After some awkward fumbling, she whispers, “Hmm what have I got on?” and with the showmanship and grace of a fine magician, unsnaps it at the crotch and flings it off. I should have felt stupid, but was pre-occupied at the time.
Well, I’m wearing Gunslinger’s underpants right now, does that count?
Other underpants story: Spent the night at a friend’s house. Now, I don’t like plain white panties. I buy plain old Wal*Mart underwear, of course, but they’re colorful and/or have designs on them. Pretty pants. So I brought a pair of hot pink underpants to change into the next morning, but when I woke up they weren’t in my bag. I figure maybe I forgot them at home and go out to have coffee, and find her little brother watching Saturday morning cartoons with my underpants on his head. He wouldn’t give them back, and hid in the crawlspace above their garage for twenty minutes. When he finally tried to sneak back into the house, his sister tackled him so I could get my panties back. And they were nastily dustified.
Underpants anecdote: Found a pair in the dollar store from Disney’s 101 Dalmations sequel, whatever the title of that was. Had three of the puppies on it. Their names? Wiggley, Happy and Fuzzy. On my underpants. Of course I had to buy them.
jarbabyj, if you are as old as I think you are, and if by “Rochester” you mean Rochester, Illinois, then it’s very likely that you and I went to junior high school together. :eek:
Could you please send me an e-mail? If you’re comfortable with telling me your real name, I’ll look in some dusty old books to see if I recognize you. If not, could you at least tell me the dates you attended RJHS? Thanks.
Well, it was about a week ago and I had just gotten out of the shower.
I’m looking in my underwear drawer so I can get dressed and I have NO PANTIES. None at all. All I have in my underwear drawer are bras, some silk ribbons, and a couple bandannas. (Don’t ask. It’s much much worse than you think.)And I really don’t wanna put on dirty underwear. Yech.
I’m thinking “Shit, I don’t wanna go commando today, I have stuff to do!”. Well obviously I wasn’t thinking as much as I previously thought, because I was late already so I throw on some low-slung pants. Baaaaaaaad idea.
Where was I going you ask?
To dinner with my parents and my boyfriend.
Yep.
Story #2
In this story, I lose my underwear too. Me and loverboy went over to a friend’s house, and in turn went to the friend’s grandparent’s house, because he was housesitting for a few hours. We’re getting bored so friend goes “Hey, there’s an attic up there that’s air conditioned and has a couch if you guys want”. Me and loverboy pause, look at eachother, and haul ass up the stairs.
Omitting the juicy details, clothing is removed, and fun is had for all.
Then the phone rings. J yells up at us “Uh…guys you’d better get your clothes on and come down here, they’re pulling in the driveway!”
Well shit.
Cut to frantic dressing, in the midst of a huge pile of assorted clothes that are not ours!
I find- My pants, my shirt, and my bra.
We hear gravel spinning. He almost jumped over the railing and down to the living room, I flew down the stairs and just as we hear closing car doors we’rea ll seated innocently on the couch
The next day, loverboy hands me a pair of undies, saying that J found them stuck in the couch…
:rolleyes:
This is kind of an underPANTS story.
I went to a party about a year ago wearing a silk shirt, a tie, a dress coat, and an adult diaper. And socks and shoes, I guess. Picture it, and I’m kind of hairy.
It was pretty daring, and I was enjoying everyone’s gasps as I first joined the party. After awhile, some macho dumbass decided he didn’t like my presence and picked a fight.
It must be the most humiliating experience in the world to get the holy Hell kicked out of you by someone in a diaper, let me tell you that.
i have a apir of black thong panties with “I (Heart) SEX” on them…the result of a drunken shopping trip with a fabulous friend. i love those knickers.
now, since only i (or selected others) see them, it’s not a problem…but i went home for the summer, and my mother offered to do my laundry…
oops.
she was unimpressed.
During college, I dated a guy who had grown up in New York City. He came to visit me in Massachusetts for a weekend, and it came to be known that he’d never Done It in a car.
Well! Our chances of being alone in the house were pretty much nil, so we hopped into my dad’s 1983 Chevy Citation and drove down to the Reservoir and went parking. He was paranoid that we were going to get caught, and was completely unrelaxed and generally un-fun in the sack. Which was pretty much the way he was all the time, but I digress. We had barely, ahem, finished, when bright lights appeared behind the car. One of the town cops was rousting us from our hideaway, with the highly amused “why don’t you just park out on Dresser Hill like everyone else?” My boyfriend was FREAKING out. A fellow Georgetown student, he probably thought that it would affect his political career or something. He was fumbling and yelling and we were trying to put our clothes on so the cop could escort us back to the road, and I realized that couldn’t find my underpants. No biggie, I’ll find 'em later.
Right? Right?
Wrong. I never found them. Either they went out the window at the Res, or my dad found them the next day and decided to quietly get rid of them without telling mom (for which he gets the best father’s day presents EVER) or my boyfriend stole them.
Oh, and I used to wear Batman Underoos. I just liked him better than Wonderwoman, and our mom would often mix them up in the wash - sometimes I’d be Batman on top and Superman on the bottom while one of my brothers walked around as Wonderwoman that day.