On the surface I want to say that this is all wrong--terribly wrong and sick; however going with my past I cannot.
I have done the underwear theft a few times over the years (although I have been somewhat pure and innocent since I tended to stick with clean undergarments). The first time was when I was 16 and staying with a preacher and his family. One day alone in their big (church supplied) parsonage, I went to the big man's underwear drawer and selected a pair of 40 inch waist briefs, I was much thinner at the time and the undies were huge upon my body but I got a thrill from it.
A year or so later, I theived a pair of 46 inch waist boxers from a Greyhound Bus bus driver. We had a fun night in Albuquerque and then another in Oklahoma City after which I felt compelled to grab a souvenir and while he showered in the bath I pilfered the undergarment, ran a pair of his socks over my genitals, and stuck the socks back in his travel bag and then seeing opportunity I grabbed a male sex magazine (and still I didn't know I was gay--what was I waiting for, a message from the Pope?). I remained calm as he dressed putting on his freshly attacked socks, and then we went to a local place had a bite to eat, I got on the next bus to Dodge (actually to Billings) and that was that. Wonder if he ever realized his shorts were gone--almost guarenteed he blew a gasket when he saw the magazine missing. At the time, I have a feeling naked men doing things was not an easy to find magazine. (By doing things I simply mean posing in various places laying on stacks of hay, groping each other. No actual sex of any sort other than possibly hand sex.)
I stole the jockstrap of my cousins travel companion when I was about 20. They were staying at my place (a one room dump) for a couple of days before heading off on the next leg of their journey. They were out seeing the town (I was in one of my New York City times) and I went through Dan's suitcase and saw the item I wanted. Hell, he had 2 of them he coulkd give one up to a closet queer couldn't he?
After that marriage and children and life took me elsewhere and I never again did the underwear run. Instead I advanced to trousers and would grab the trousers of men I worked with in those blue collar uniform jobs. After a long work day, I would stay late for O.T. and then grab the lower half of the uniform from a selected individual which had been worn that day and were scheduled to be worn again I am sure. I would pull the zipper up then down, then send my penis through the open fly and then--well I think you have enough info already.
Eventually I got out of the closet, admitted to being gay, a queer, a homosexsual (note the lisp and fluttering eyes) and for some reason stopped having my fascination and need for donning other men's clothing.
. Realising that my cock is where their big cock has been. 
