"What do you mean you told her?"
My wife looked at me with a puzzled expression. "Of course I told her," she said. "We talk about everything."
"Be that as it may, you didn't need to tell her I had a thing for panties!"
"Now don't go saying it like that," she scolded mildly. "It's not like I told her your into wearing women's underwear, just that you had a, uh, special appreciation for women's undergarments."
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Marion was beginning to wish her best friend Caitlin hadn't persuaded her to sneak back into school with her to retrieve her purse. The two 18 year-old sixth-formers were best friends. Marion was Head Girl and Caitlin was Sports Captain, yet as they stood by the sign reading 'Staff Only -- Entry to all pupils forbidden' that stood on the gate to the courtyard she was worried.
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Dianne's boyfriend, Terry, was going to be home soon, so we had to wrap up our special afternoon. I began to pull my pants back up but the load of cum in my satin panties would surely soak through.
"Wait, stop," said Dianne from the bed, her posture becoming more chaste after her open display of masturbation. Her legs pulled together as her hips turned. "Open the drawer behind you."
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Olivia scurried nervously down the pot-holed street of the poor, downtown neighborhood of the city. Having grown up in the wealthy suburbs, she had only visited this part of town once or twice in her life. She recalled coming down here with her father on one of his business errands a couple years back. As she breathed in the hot night air, she recalled from that earlier trip the same sweet, slightly rotten smell of the city in the summer.
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Let me tell you, Jack, I had one hell of a shitty day today, although it really started some time ago. I could tell there was something wrong. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was something amiss. For the last several months my wife, Lynn, seemed to be growing more distant toward me. Sex with her was almost to the point of nonexistent. In those rare times we did have sex, it was as though she couldn't wait 'till it was over. It was to the point that sex became unpleasant, damn near work.
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Jessica and Travis had known each other for a couple of weeks and were developing a flirtatious relationship. It wasn't too serious yet, but their tantalizing and sexy interaction was starting to build. He had just invited her over to his beach house for the first time. He, also, mentioned to her that he had something daring and sexy planned. This peaked her curiosity. When she arrived, Travis gave her a friendly, affectionate hug and welcomed her in.
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Paul had a little trouble finding Kaylee's apartment building and he was almost twenty minutes late by the time he finally reached her door. It was bad enough being flustered by having taken a wrong turn while following the directions he had been given but, as he pressed the doorbell, he discovered he was distinctly nervous indeed.
Kaylee's website specified several massage specialties but, although the text was suitably noncommittal and vague, it was clear that they were all of the more erotic variety.
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I don't know why I married a panty slave. It's not like I didn't know about James' fetish before I said yes to his marriage proposal. He had been quite up front when we were dating about his desire to be controlled by a strong woman, and the instrument of her control was to be her underwear. He isn't into bondage or spanking or any of the more traditional bdsm fare, although I sometimes incorporate these things into our kinky love making.
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Mastrom's was Blythe's favorite department store. Catering to an upscale clientele, they carried the latest in high quality fashion in a wide variety of styles. They took pride in their hands-on and solicitous customer service. After a shopping excursion, Blythe often left the store fully satisfied and upbeat.
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I want to tell you my story about something wonderful that once happened to me before I came to live in this place; call it what it is, an old folks home. I will do my best to stay on course but if I skip around some just be patient with me.
After the phone call I had to sit down. My legs trembled. I felt perspiration on my upper lip. My armpits became wet and I felt a drop slip down my side. Oh my, I thought, Kenneth, after all these years that I should react as I did. I felt myself flush as memories returned.
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