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Domestic bliss for me involved getting my brains fucked out on a nightly basis by my formerly somewhat frigid boyfriend Will. I had used to complain that his sex drive was no match for mine, but I just hadn’t yet discovered his secret passion. Panties, as it turned out. Specifically, my panties.
Now, every time I took off my underwear at the end of the day, I had to pass them on to Will. He would wear them for another whole day. Of course, he was an English professor so he actually taught classes while wearing my panties.
Having my scent on him always, Will claimed, made him think of me constantly. The soft textures of silk, lace, cotton or nylon rubbing against his penis all day long kept him in a state of perpetual desire. He sometimes screwed me on the living room floor as soon as he walked in the door, unable to wait more than a few minutes.
I was kept in a constant supply of expensive undergarments. I seldom wore the same pair twice. The sales clerks at all the exotic boutiques in town knew us by name. We had maxed out a Victoria’s Secret charge account. Will had a cabinet of alphabetically filed mail-order catalogs which he would frequently pore through with a highlighter. His “internet favorites” folder was exclusively devoted to lingerie web-sites.
Ironically, I used to go commando when I was horny.
There were a few other kinks which apparently went along with the panty thing. Will loved to be fucked in the ass with my vibrator. (Actually, afraid of cross-contamination, I gave him my old one and bought a new one for myself.) He also was a maniac for cream-pies. Every time he came inside, he would slurp his come out of me like it was whipped cream. He especially liked sucking my come-drenched panties. He would have made soup out of them if he could have.
I was glad for all the new attention, but I have to say that panties held no special magic for me. Will’s new constantly jacked-up mood was a little difficult to keep up with, too. For the first time in our relationship, I would occasionally turn him down.
On one such night, we were laying together in bed. I was on my period, so I was wearing an old pair of shapeless, comfortable, drab granny panties. To Will’s further chagrin, I was topless. I found it very uncomfortable to sleep in a bra, but Will usually insisted on something that matched.
He was laying beside me in a very expensive midnight blue negligee, stroking himself absently through the fabric. I usually didn’t mind if he masturbated in front of me, sometimes I found it rather entertaining, but tonight I wanted something a little different.
“Tell me a bedtime story,” I said.
Will knew all my stories. He knew that I didn’t care for anal sex because my first boyfriend had ass-fucked me enough for two lifetimes. He knew that I had lost my virginity playing groupie to a real live rock star. (I was always coy about telling him which one. He had it narrowed down to Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan or Tom Petty. It was Petty, of course. Who loses their virginity to Bob Dylan?) He knew about my shameful year-long bar-slut phase. I had even told him about the wild Vegas weekend I’d just spent with my best friend Carrie. The only thing he didn’t know about was my disturbing and possibly hallucinated affair with his own great-great-great grandfather. That one would blow his mind, and I wasn’t even sure if still believed it myself.
Will’s past, though, was a complete mystery to me. All I knew was that he was married to a woman named Carol for several years. Will would never utter the word, but from the things he’s told me, the woman was an evil cunt. I knew she cheated on him many times, and eventually left him for a younger man. He didn’t talk about their sex life much, except to say that it was practically non-existent. Carol, unlike me, had zero tolerance for Will’s panty fetish. He told me that she only wore the plainest things, just to deny him happiness.
I didn’t even know if he’d had any lovers other than his ex-wife. I didn’t know anything. I was especially curious to find out where the panty thing had come from.
“Tell me how you lost your virginity,” I said.
“What?” Will sat up in bed.
“I want to hear it,” I said. “You know mine, but I don’t know yours.”
“Oh,” he said, laying back down. “Uh, well, it’s not that exciting.”
“Why don’t you tell it to me, then I’ll tell you if it’s exciting or not.”
“OK,” Will shrugged. “Um, let’s see, where do I start? OK, I was home from college one summer . . .”
“How old were you?” I interrupted.
“I was going into my fourth year, so . . . almost twenty-two?”
“You didn’t lose your virginity until you were twenty-two?”
“Twenty-one,” he corrected. “I was almost twenty-two. I was kind of shy with women.”
“Jesus, Will. I didn’t lose mine until I was nineteen, and I thought it was never going to happen.”
“That Alanya Escort escort thought had crossed my mind,” Will admitted. “Anyway, I was home for the summer and our next-door neighbor was this girl named Isabel Stamper.”
“Isabel?” The name sounded hopelessly old-fashioned.
“Yeah,” Will nodded. “She was eighteen that year, had just graduated from high school.”
“Ooh,” I laughed. “Was she cute?”
“Gorgeous,” Will said. “See, I literally had not seen her in almost four years. I was only home at summer, and Isabel spent summers with her Dad. The last time I’d seen her, she was this annoying little skinny tomboy, not even in high school yet. But in those four years, she bloomed like you would not believe. Beautiful face with these huge brown eyes, long brown hair, incredible body. She was tall, too. Statuesque.”
“Did she have nice tits?” I asked.
Will just closed his eyes and pictured them, grinning. “Not as nice as yours,” he said. “But close.”
I was grateful he had said that. Despite the fact that I’d asked to hear this, I was starting to feel the first pangs of jealousy.
“So, I was working at their place. Since her parents were divorced, Isabel’s Mom had me come over once a week to mow the lawn, clean the pool, trim hedges. You know, like guy stuff she didn’t want to do herself. Isabel talked to me a lot while I was supposed to be working. I think she was kind of impressed, just because I was older. And believe me, I worked that older man angle for all it was worth.”
“Her Mom saw what was going on eventually, and told Isabel to quit bothering me while I was working. Not that she was, of course. Then she pulled me aside later and said that she knew Isabel was a little flirt, but she didn’t want me to lead her on.”
“Her Mom said that?”
“Yeah,” Will said. “She was cool about it and everything, said it in a nice way, but she was basically telling me to back off her daughter. Mainly, I think, because she thought I was too old for her.”
“Did you back off?”
“Well, we couldn’t talk as much,” Will went on, “but I think her Mom disapproving was actually a point in my favor as far as Isabel was concerned. I was dangerous now, and that made me seem even cooler.”
I laughed at the thought of anyone considering Will to be dangerous.
“One day she sunbathed by the pool while I was mowing the back yard. Wearing this bikini that I swear must have fit her when she was fourteen, but now she now she was literally spilling out of it. As if that weren’t enough, she lay down on her stomach and undid her top so she wouldn’t get tan lines. Every so often, she would lift her head up and I’d get a flash of her boobs. That day was the first time I ever saw a woman’s bare nipple in real life, even if it was just for a second.”
“Did she know you were watching her?” I asked.
“Oh, I know she knew. That was why she was putting on a show. Words can not describe how difficult it is to push a lawnmower when you have that big of a boner. I must have mowed the same row of grass nine times just so I could keep looking at her.”
“Her Mom eventually saw what was going on and came out to yell at Isabel to come inside and put some clothes on,” Will said. “I was scared shitless that she was going to come outside and yell at me, too. Probably fire me. But she didn’t, so I just finished with the lawn as quickly as I could.”
“Now, they kept the mower and the rest of the lawn stuff in this enclosed patio off the back porch. Their washer and dryer were hooked up out there, too. So I put the mower away and I was cleaning up at this little sink they had out there, when I looked over and saw a basket of dirty laundry.”
“Oh, no,” I laughed.
“Oh, yes,” Will said. “Right on top was an unwashed pair of black-and-red lace French cut panties. I was still shaking all over from Isabel’s little performance, and then to see a pair of her dirty panties just laying out . . .”
“Were you already into panties then?”
“A little bit,” he admitted. “I had a couple Fredericks of Hollywood catalogs that I used for wacking material, and once I . . .” He was blushing. “In college, I stole a pair from a girl’s laundry basket in the student laundromat.”
“Another girlfriend?” I asked, feeling one of those weird little flashes of jealousy.
“I never even knew for sure whose basket it was. The panties were cute, though. They were kind of bluish, with this little embroidered . . .”
“You’re getting distracted, Will. Go back to the story.”
“Yeah, where was I?”
“The laundry room behind the house. The panties in the laundry basket.”
“Oh yeah. So, even as worked up as I was, I knew the smart thing to do would be to just leave them there. But I couldn’t do that, so I grabbed the panties and stuffed them into my pocket. I was going to go home where I could examine Alanya Escort bayan them at my leisure, if you know what I mean. But then I took them right back out because I just had to know what Isabel smelled like.”
“I buried my nose right in the crotch and took a deep breath,” Will closed his eyes, lost in the sense-memory. “She must have been wearing them right before she changed into her swimsuit because the smell was fresh and strong. Wonderful. This was the first time I had ever really smelled a woman’s pussy. I loved it instantly. I started breathing through the panties like they were one of those oxygen masks that drops down in an airplane.”
“Then I hear a voice behind me say, ‘What are you doing?'”
“Oh no,” I gasped.
“It was Isabel’s Mom. God knows how long she’d been standing there watching me huff her daughter’s panties. My heart stopped beating. I turned around, dropped the panties to the floor. There was just horrible silence for what felt like an hour.”
“Finally, Isabel’s Mom just shakes her head and laughs a little, and then she says: ‘Look. I’m sorry. I know it’s not all your fault. Isabel’s to blame as well. But if you keep coming over here, you’re going to end up sleeping with my daughter, and that’s going to really piss me off. I don’t want to fire you, though. You do good work. So, she leaves for her Dad’s place in Laramie, Wyoming in a week. Why don’t you take next Thursday off? You can come back when she’s gone.'”
“What could I say? I mumbled ‘OK.’ All I wanted to do was get the hell out of there.”
“Then she says, ‘Oh, and if you’re harboring any romantic illusions, she has a fiancee in Laramie. I’m afraid she had you lined up as a meaningless summer fling, if that.'”
“Ooh,” I said. “That hurts.”
“Yeah,” Will said. “So, I turned to go and Isabel’s Mom says: ‘If you like my panties so much, why don’t you take them home with you?'”
“Her panties?” I shrieked.
“Yeah,” Will grinned. “They were Isabel’s Mom’s panties.”
I slapped his arm. “You said they were Isabel’s!”
“I said I thought they were Isabel’s.”
“You did not, you liar.” I laughed, though. This was an interesting turn of events. “So, did you take the panties?”
“She picked them up and handed them to me. I crammed them into my pocket and bolted out of there, confused as I’d ever been in my life. I spent the next week in isolation. Me and the panties. It was like a festival of masturbatory debauchery. I didn’t see Isabel once that week, and the crazy thing was, I didn’t mind.”
“You had the hots for the Mom now, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Will said. “Mrs. Stamper looked a lot like Isabel, same hair, same eyes. The resemblance was really striking, only I think the Mother actually wore it better. For all the great tits and ass, Isabel still had this little girlish look to her. Mrs. Stamper was more mature, more dignified. All woman. Plus, if her daughter was statuesque, Mrs. Stamper was Amazonian. Six feet, maybe taller.”
“Wow,” I said. Though I was a nowhere near six feet, I was a few inches taller than Will myself. I mentally added ‘taller women’ to my list of Will’s known fetishes.
“So, after the week’s up, I go back over there to work and it’s like nothing ever happened. Mrs. Stamper comes to the door and tells me what she wants me to do like any other day I worked there. So I water the garden, clean the pool filters, all that, the whole time burning inside for Mrs. Stamper.”
“Finally, she calls me inside to have a glass of iced tea with her, which is something she’d never done before. I went inside and she was wearing an old bath robe. It wasn’t fastened very tight, so I could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I hoped she was wearing panties, at least.”
“Most guys hope for just the opposite.”
“I know, but I like women to be wearing a little something. Anyway, she starts talking about Isabel, and about this guy she was engaged to. Mrs. Stamper didn’t really like him that much. ‘He spent a week here around Christmas,’ she said. ‘I tried to make them sleep in separate beds, but I’m sure they found ways around that.'”
“I don’t know if she was messing with my head or what, talking about her daughter’s sex life. So she goes on, ‘I guess I it’s hard for me to get used to the fact that my little girl’s not a virgin. That’s why I didn’t want her to spend too much time alone with an older, more experienced man.'”
“It took me a few minutes to realize that she was talking to me, but by then she’d stood up and was walking around the table towards me. ‘I’m not going to torture you any more,’ she said. ‘I think we both know what’s happening here.'”
“Then she let the robe fall to the ground, and she stood there naked except for a pair of sheer black bikini panties with white lace trim and little x’s stitched with bright red ribbon all up the front.”
Typical Escort alanya of Will, his description of the panties was more detailed than his description of the woman.
“I immediately fell to my knees before her, and leaned my mouth down between her legs and started sucking her through the panties. She got tired of that pretty quick, though, and pulled the crotch aside so my mouth would be right on her.”
“She was dripping wet, hot and twitching and alive. She grabbed me by the hair and started moving my head the way she wanted it to go.”
“After a while, she let go and told me to stand up. She kissed me hard and deep, then pulled away.”
“‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought I’d like the sweaty man thing, but it’s a little much. Why don’t you take a very quick shower and meet me in the bedroom?'”
“So I took the quickest shower of my entire life and ran into her bedroom. ‘Did you even use a towel?’ she screamed at me. ‘Go back in there and dry off. You’ll get the sheets wet.’ So I ran back to the bathroom, toweled off, and ran right back to her room. By the time I got back, she was laying completely naked on her bed, playing with herself with a vibrator.”
“‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’m not getting off without you. I’m just keeping the fire stoked.’ She put the vibrator down and pulled me onto the bed. She pushed my head down to her crotch and so I started going down on her again. Then she twisted around so she could get my cock in her mouth. We were sixty-nining. I’d never been sucked before, obviously, and it felt so good it blew my mind. She knew how to do it.” Will had become lost in the story again, but now he looked at me and said: “Of course, she wasn’t as good as you.”
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I was afraid to come, because I thought it would make her mad, but we sucked each other for a long time. I think I got her off at least once before she pushed me away again. ‘There’s a box of condoms in the bedroom drawer,’ she said. ‘Put one on.'”
“I did what she told me. When I turned around again, she was on her hands and knees on her bed. Her perfect ass was right there in front of me. ‘I like it from behind,’ she said. ‘Maybe some other time you can fuck me in the ass, but not today. Today I just want you to fuck my cunt.'”
“I couldn’t believe the language,” Will said. “But I was so hard. I slid it into her, and she did this weird thing with her muscles inside, like squeezing me.”
“They’re called kegels,” I said, a bit testily. “And I do them too, you know.”
“I know,” Will said quickly. “But at the time I had no idea that a woman could do that. I lasted as long as I could, about five minutes, and then I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out. When I was finished, she rolled over onto her back and finished herself off with her vibrator.”
“I felt like I’d failed her, but she said, ‘Thanks, Will. You were great. Come back next week?'”
“Then she gave me some money. She usually paid me twenty a week, but this time she gave me forty. I think it amused her to think of me as a gigolo.”
Will took a drink of water as I watched him expectantly.
“That’s it,” he said. “End of story. That’s how I lost my virginity.”
“That’s it? Did you have sex with her again?”
“Oh yeah,” Will said. “I went back every Thursday for the rest of the summer. Did her yard-work in the morning, had sex with her all afternoon. Got forty bucks every time. The next year, I graduated from college, and we got married about a year after that.”
“You married her?”
“Yeah,” Will said. “That was Carol.”
“Isabel’s Mom was your ex-wife? Why didn’t you tell me that at the start of the story?” I asked, absolutely exasperated.
“I didn’t?” Will said.
“I could’ve sworn I mentioned it.”
“You drive me crazy, Will,” I said. “You never even said that she was that much older than you.”
“Well, after a while her age didn’t seem to matter that much.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, realizing something. “Have you been with any women besides me and Carol?”
“Women?” Will said thoughtfully. “No.”
“Why did you say it like that?”
Will blushed again, profusely.
“You’ve been with . . . guys?”
“Once,” Will said. “During my last year at college. See, I was . . .”
“Tell it to me tomorrow, OK?” I said. “I’ve had enough startling revelations for one night.”
“If you don’t want to know about it, I won’t tell you.”
“I want to know about it,” I said. “Just not tonight.” With that, I turned out the light.
After several minutes, I rolled over and pulled up Will’s negligee. I found his cock, still halfway erect from telling the story, and took him into my mouth. I gave him a great blow-job, as if to reassert my claim over him.
He came in my mouth, and I kissed him good night, sharing with him my mouthful of jism. He sucked it from my mouth with relish and I wondered if he had tasted this other man’s come. The thought carried me into sleep, where my dreams flitted through wild ruminations on Will’s sexual past, arousal and jealousy with me in equal measures into the dawn.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
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