The Stolen Panties

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So I’m in this department store looking for a birthday gift for my girlfriend, Moira, when I notice in the power tool section a woman who’s fine as frog’s hair.

This girl, as Lyle Lovett says, makes me think so fast I leave my thoughts behind. She’s tall, maybe 5’7″, and draped in a short dress and — feature this — cowboy boots.

Who cares what I’m wearing.

I move in for a closer look, but she’s headed out of the power tools and into the men’s wear, so I follow at a distance. She picks up a cologne sample and slips it into her purse, keeps moving. Next, naturally, on to the women’s lingerie. As she’s moving through the racks, she glances around and slips a pair of panties into her purse, then heads for the dressing room. This is too much, and my mind is racing over the possibilities. I stand near the dressing room entrance, hold my breath for 30 seconds, and slip in. A light perspiration breaks out across my forehead, I can’t believe what I’m doing, and I push open her dressing room door. She looks up, gasps, I move into the stall and quickly shut the door behind me. No time to waste and no room to fuck up, I say, ” Mall security, ma’am,” and quickly flash my Waldenbooks Frequent Readers Card. “We prosecute shoplifters. Turn around.”

“But, but, but,” she’s stammering, I’m thinking this is whacked, what am I doing, and say sternly “I said turn around!”

She faces the wall and I have a moment to catch my breath, keep my head from spinning, and survey the scene. Okay, okay, stop sweating and stay calm. This girl’s brown hair is shaking a bit, she’s trembling, and her golden shoulders are tensed. My eye carries down the ridge of her spine to a sweet round ass and shapely legs. I revise her height estimate up to 5’8″. I haven’t had the best look at her face, but from the glimpse I’ve seen she’s a beauty, a bit of the Teri Hatcher type — and not the modern edition, dried up and skinny. I mean the “New Adventures of Superman” Teri Hatcher. The flowery dress is hanging on a peg, and all she’s wearing is a blue satin bra, her cowboy boots, and the stolen panties. She’s obviously picked a size too small, because her ass is spilling out around the blue fabric. Enough looking, if I don’t keep this thing moving the spell will break and she might wise up and shout.

“Hands against the wall, Miss, now.” She hesitates, but after another “NOW” she puts her hands up against the wall of the dressing room. She’s shaking and stammering something, I lean in closer and hear her whispering “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

“All right, miss, that’s enough. I’ll do the talking. You stole those panties didn’t you?” She nods, whispers yes. I say “We’ll need to retain those panties for evidence,” and she tentatively brings her hands down to remove them. “Hands on the wall!” I yell, and she quickly obeys. “You might be carrying a concealed weapon. I’ll need to remove them myself.” She tenses up, as I lean forward, and think — what the fuck am I doing? This is the sort of behavior that lands your ass in jail, brother. But I push those thoughts aside and place my thumbs under the strap of her panties and slowly peel them down, only an inch. I lean close to her ear, and whisper, “You know you can go to jail for this sort of thing” — hey, if I’m freaked out she should be too. She gulps, and actually says, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’ll do anything you say.”

I pull the panties down over the swell of her ass, and only with superhuman effort restrain myself from licking a cheek while I pull them past thighs, calves, and boots. “Step out of them,” I say. She gingerly lifts one booted foot, then another, and from this angle I notice just how big and sweet her ass is compared to the rest of her body. I slip the panties into my pocket, stand up, and say, “That bra may be stolen too, it should come off.” I reach around, fumble with the clasp between her breasts, and release them from the confines of the satin. Now she’s naked except for the cowboy boots, and she’s not coming out of those if I have anything to say about it.

I’m surprised it’s gone this far, and can’t think of what to say next. There’s an awkward silence while I look blankly at her beautiful back, and after a moment she looks over her should at me and asks, “Were you going to search me?” This is almost too easy and I briefly wonder how many people she’s fucking.

“Hush,” I say, “I’ll do the talking. What’s your name?” She mumbles something that sounds like “mines of Moria” and I say “what?!” She speaks up a bit, “Mine’s Moira.”

“All right, Moira,” I tell her, “spread your legs.” She does, awkwardly, and I reach my hands around to hold the fullness of her breasts in my hands. She gasps, and I squeeze them gently. I slowly let me finger tips drift over her stomach, her thighs, and the cheeks of her ass. “Sit down Moira,” and I motion her to the dressing room bench. She sits, and I get my first good look at her face. She’s breathtaking: big brown eyes, creamy skin, and pillowy Kadıköy travesti lips. She’s looking up at me expectantly and I know that no matter what, I have to ball this woman.

“What should we do with you, Moira?” I say.

She looks down at the floor, hesitates, mumbles, “I don’t want to go to jail.” Me neither, I’m thinking.

I scratch my chin, pull a face, and say, “Maybe we can keep you out of jail. How much are you willing to cooperate?” As I say this I sit down on the bench next to her, close enough to smell her nervousness. “What should we do here to keep you out of jail?” I ask, softening my tone.

“Are you going to punish me?” she says softly, looking away. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do… what you say.”

“I don’t know Moira,” I say. “What do you think I should do about this?”

Moira shrugs, but I reach up and hold her chin, look her in the eye, and say, “I think you need to take this seriously, Moira — and that means being part of the solution.”

“Can’t you just make the decision,” she says. “I don’t want to right now. I’d rather not.”

“I am making the decisions Moira, but I need to see that you understand the meaning of what you did,” I say. I know, I know, pretty weak, but I’m still nervous that things could go wrong and I’m buying time to think.

“Well, I guess,” she mumbles, “I guess it’s all about me taking the panties. So maybe I need to be punished for that.” She looks at me, our eyes meet.

“That’s right Moira. Since the panties covered your bottom, maybe that’s where we should begin,” I say. “Bend over my lap, Moira.”

She tenses up, “Why?”

“Just do as I say, Moira.”

“What are you going to do?”

After a long look, I pull her across my lap. She tries to twist, but strength is on my side, and I position her face down across my lap. She struggles a bit and attempts to reach back, but has no purchase. The toes of her boots are just off the floor on my right; her small waist and golden round bottom struggle before me. I can feel her breathing, in and out, and I can feel the heat from her body as she tries to gain control. I wait her out, and after a time she quiets down. Her bottom is soft, round, and very vulnerable. Finally, she waits, supine on my lap.

“Spread your legs, Moira.” She hesitates, and I smack her lightly on the ass. She complies by moving her legs slightly. I spread my hands across her bottom and caress her roundness, feeling the softness and texture of her prime ass. I shift her a little until her bottom is centered over my knees. She struggles again. “Is this how you obey me?” I ask. “Spread you bottom Moira; I want to see it all. Use your hands.”

After a pause she reaches back and pulls her cheeks just a little. I give her ass a sharp stinging slap on one cheek. “Owwww!” she cries, ” That hurts!” She begins to struggle again, and I hold her to me, waiting her out. “Spread your bottom, Moira, do it now.”

After another moment, she reaches back and pulls her cheeks much farther apart. “There, can you see everything now?” she says, with attitude.

“Yes, that’s fine, Moira. Just keep holding yourself open.” I can see the small, tight rosebud between her golden cheeks, with its tiny folds narrowing in the center, and below it the moist crease of her pussy. Damn this girl is perfect. “Very well, Moira. You can take her hands away.”

“About time,” she says. Her upturned ass is relaxed — soft and round. But when her hands go down, I spank her, hard. She cries out in surprise and tries to cover herself with her hands, but I grab her wrists and held them together at the small of her back. “You — SLAP — will — SLAP — do — SLAP — as — SLAP — I — SLAP — say!” Her bottom jiggles helplessly as she cries out, taking the blows, her heels kicking in the air. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobs, her bottom quivering, ” I’ll do as you say!”

I let go of her wrists and, after a moment, gently spread her bottom as she whimpers to herself. Carefully holding her cheeks apart, I suck on my middle finger and gently touch the center.

“Oh God — not my ass… Please not my ass!” She flinches, and tries to clench her cheeks together, but she doesn’t have the strength. I slap her again, hard, and push against the dark rosebud between her cheeks. She twitches and squirms, trying to evade my probing finger, and I quickly spank her again, slapping her sweet wide upturned ass with my open hand.

“Hold still, Moira, we’re not finished.”

“Is that it?” she asks, with attitude, “Is it my ass you want?” She turns her head and looks backs at me. Her face is angry and streaked with tears.

“Of course, Moira,” I say, as I think to myself — what the fuck else would Assmaster McStuff want? — “Now hold still.” I reach for her purse on the ground and open it up, hoping to find… bingo! A bottle of lotion rolls out and I twist the cap off, applying lotion to my fingers. Spreading her cheeks with the fingers of my left Kurtköy travesti hand, I take a bit more lotion and daub it around the center. She flinches at the first cold taste of it, but then — since there’s nothing she can do about it — quiets down as I lightly stroke. Her asshole is darker than the surrounding skin, and tight, so tight — a little kitten’s mouth. I massage the opening gently, feeling the texture and the tender softness of her opening. At first she is completely closed — clenched tight against my gentle invasion, but I continue to massage the center with my fingertip, occasionally adding a drop or two of lotion as lubricant.

After awhile, Moira begins to let go — out of fatigue if nothing else — and I press into her just a tiny bit. As soon as I feel her opening to my finger, I start stroking her back with my other hand, caressing her gently, smoothly.

“That’s right,” I whisper, “such a good girl Moira.” Gently stroking, soothing, and all the time pressing slowly but firmly into her fleshy bottom. I continue for a few moments and then push firmly into her ass — steady and deep, right up into her. Moira arches her back, and clutches to my legs, crying out, “Oh my dear Jesus God… My ass — you’re… in.. my… ass!” — and clamps my finger like a warm wet vise as her tight squirmy bottom tries to refuse me. She trembles and holds onto the bench as I hold her to me, slowly sinking my finger down into her cheeks until I’m buried two or three inches into her — her tight ring of muscle twitching spastically around my finger.

After she quiets down again and becomes somewhat used to my finger up her ass, I probe deeper, moving in and out as she starts to pant a bit. “Oh my ass… my poor bottom… what are you doing to me?” she cries. I push back into her with more lotion, this time with two fingers. She has to open completely — I want her bottom to accept me as a natural fact. Her face is tense and streaked with tears, but they will dry. She has a little control left, but she needs to lose it all.

I reach around her waist with my other hand and begin to explore the soft flesh of her tummy… and lower, the firm naked mound between her legs. I find her little button and run a finger up and down the entrance to her pussy. I slide a finger into her sex, lean down and kiss her cheek.

She pants again, and says, “You’re making me… hot.” I can feel her muscles tighten and close around my fingers. She is very slippery, front and rear. I lean down and whisper in her ear: “Do you know what I’m going to do to you Moira?”

“Do you want to fuck me… in the ass?” She looks back at me from the corner of her eyes and clamps down hard on my fingers, which are still deep within her. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you…” she whispers, “I think maybe you really like my ass. All men like my ass.”

This girl is speaking truth and I am rock hard to hear it. She pushes back with her ass against my hand and shoves my fingers up in her as far as they will go, groaning as her eyes close halfway and her body jerks. She looks at me with half-closed eyes, whispering, “That’s how I want you to put it up inside me. Like that. Only not your finger; I want to feel the thickness of your cock, hard and slippery inside me. I want to feel the head of it pushing me open for the rest to follow. I hope you have a big dick.”

“That’s it Moira,” I say, “You can show me how sorry you are by taking it all. Now stand up.” She does, and I stand with her. We face each other and I kiss her on the mouth, holding her face with the fingers that I just pulled out of her ass, running my other hand over her breasts and stomach. “Now Moira, turn around and put your hands on the bench, that’s it.” She does, and I just have to pause to admire the scene. A fit girl in goofy cowboy boots, standing straight legged and bent at the waist, hair hanging in a beautiful face, supported by fit legs, smooth skin, and a big soft round edible ass just waiting to be sucked and spread open. I kneel behind her, spread her cheeks with my hand, and lick around the rim of her asshole. All resistance is gone as she leans back into my face and my tongue slips into her ass. This only goes on for a minute or so, because I suddenly remember that we’re in a dressing room and we need to get this show on the road before we get caught.

Plus I can’t wait to bust her ass.

I stand up, unzip my trousers, and place my hands on her bottom. It is wide and soft and glorious, and I have to get into it now. “Moira, spread your cheeks.” She reaches back, still bent over, and without much coaching opens her ass to again expose her dark asshole to my eyes. Taking the lotion again, I drip some onto my fingers, smearing the fluid over the head of my penis and up the shaft. I touch her rosebud with a fingerful of lotion and gently push in. At first her ring contracts, and then relaxes. Withdrawing my finger, her rosebud is left slightly dilated and I reposition Pendik travesti move my cock until it rests heavily at the softened opening of her bottom. Moira takes a breath as I grip the cheeks of her ass with my hands.

I press at her hole, focusing the weight of my body into a single point at the tip of my cock. She’s slippery and tight, but as I push just a bit I can feel a softness — a weakness I hadn’t felt before. My cock is a slick, fat padded stick about to violate her. “Moira, open your cheeks more for me.” She does, and takes another deep breath.

“Relax Moira. Can you feel my cock?”

“Yes,” she says, in a tight voice, “I can feel you.”

“Am I in the right place?”

She lets out her breath. “Yes… you’re pushing right on my — my bottom.”

“On your what?”

“On my asshole.”

“How does it feel Moira?”


“I want you to open yourself to me Moira. Unclench your muscle.” Her asshole is hard to enter, and my cock slips away. I take myself in hand, and press against her opening again. She whimpers, stiff with tension. I press my hips forward firmly and hold her, forcing the head of my cock against her ring and — POP — she cries out as I enter.

“Oh Jesus God my poor bottom… you’re in me!” she cries as her tight, squirmy ass clamps down on my cock. I press, press, press and my cock slowly slides into her ass until I’m halfway in, buried between her golden cheeks. “Oh god I can’t do this it feels like I have to…” she cries as her asshole twitches spastically around my thickness. A tear or two traces down from the corner of her eyes as I press again.

“Let go, Moira,” I say. “Relax your bottom. Open yourself to me like a flower.” It’s all I can do not to shoot a load up her ass right away. I probe deeper as she quietly gives in to me, slowly moving my cock in and out as she pants and begins to relax. I watch in fascination as my cock disappears up her dark asshole. When I slowly pull back out, the ring of her ass hugs my cock and stretches out, a hostess reluctant to let a dinner guest depart. I notice that she’s becoming aroused again. Her nipples are erect, her face flushed and sweaty.

I press forward again and that’s it — her ass is impaled and her sphincter twitches around the base of my cock. She’s weeping a little, and her pussy is slick with juice. She doesn’t know how to feel about this humiliation — a first class buttfucking in a semi-public venue if ever there were one — but she’s getting into it regardless. Suffice it to say that this woman had no idea what she was getting into when she stole the panties. I’m still moving with the slowest strokes possible, when she whispers, “Yes, please yes — do it to me… Fuck my bottom.”

“Fuck your what?”

“Fuck my ass. Please buttfuck me. Please do it.”

I’m a sucker for trash talk from a woman, and I press again. She offers herself up to me and I lower my hips until I’m pressed against the cheeks of her ass, then pull out, press in, pull out, a bit faster, a bit harder. Her ass is a soft pillow for hungry hips to come home to. Her opening is like a ring sliding up the length of my cock and she groans, warm and tight. “Go ahead, push it…. push it” she say thickly, “fuck my ass… fuck my pretty ass.”

I kiss her on the neck as I begin to stroke harder and harder. “I want your cock all the way up my ass” she says as she puts her hands back on the bench to steady herself. What the hell, I think, and I start banging away on her asshole. “Oww! Oww! Oww!” and she reaches a hand between her legs to rub her pussy as I fuck her ass for all I’m worth. She starts shouting “I want your fucking cock — fuck me in the fucking ass with all of your fucking cock!” A wave of lust and fulfillment rises in me and I’m very close. Her bottom spastically grips the base of my cock and milks it. She’s chanting, it’s a rhythm now, “fuck me… fuck me… fuck my ass… fuck me deep” and she presses back into my cock as I lurch forward, spearing her dark sweetness with my entire length and I think I can hear someone knocking on the door but no matter because she says the magic words: FUCK IT LIKE YOU OWN IT and I am there and it comes pumping from my balls up the shaft and spews violently past the ring of her asshole into her body, spastically filling her soft upturned ass with my thickness, pouring myself up into her wet sweet golden bottom while she weeps and shakes and cries yes…

“Excuse me. Will you be making a purchase?” I hear a voice outside the dressing room door say as we begin to catch our breath. “Yes,” I say, ” but we’ll need a few more minutes to make up our minds…” and we are both sweating and shaking and she leans forward onto the bench, her ass still in the air as I pull my softening cock out of her. Her distended asshole takes a moment to close, and I pat her lightly on the cheek.

“Well,” I say, “it appears we’ve rehabilitated you Moira. Although if you persist in shoplifting I’d encourage you to do it in MY store.” She giggles, panting, resting her head on the bench.

“What about the panties?” she says, and I think — yeah, what about those fucking panties? I can’t walk out with them in my pocket; they’re stolen. And they sure can’t go back on the rack.

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