Michael Broadbent and I had been friends for many years. We had met at University and then lost contact for a while only to find ourselves working for the same merchant bank in the City some five years later. That was ten years ago and we had remained firm friends ever since. We had both married. My wife, Sarah was an English rose. Beautiful to look at and highly intelligent. The only fly in the ointment was the fact that she tended to be somewhat prudish. Michael's wife, Rachel, on the other hand, was dark and bubbly with an outgoing, some would say outrageous, personality. The women had never become such firm friends as Michael and I had but they did get on with one another, mainly because they knew that it was important to us. The four of us would often attend social and sporting events together but our main socialising was regular dinner parties at one another's homes, usually on a Friday night.
On one such evening Sarah and I were at the Broadbents. Rachel had prepared a delicious meal of roast lamb and vegetables followed by a Peach Melba dessert, all washed down by Michael's impeccable choice of red and white wine. I was doing something that I found myself doing more and more at our meetings. I was surreptitiously watching Rachel. Her smile, her full figured body with its plump softly contoured breasts and the way her dress clung to her as she moved. I just hoped that no one else had noticed because it was almost impossible to stop doing. She aroused me. I had no romantic feelings for her at all but was developing ever stronger, much more basic desires every time we met. It was becoming an effort to control.
We were leaving the dining table to adjourn to the more comfortable seating in the living room when I decided to make a quick visit to the bathroom, the wine having taken its toll. As I was leaving the room I heard Rachel call out behind me,
"James dear, would you mind very much using the en suite bathroom in our bedroom? The main bathroom is being redecorated and is pretty much in a shambles I'm afraid."
I lifted a hand up and waved to indicate that I had heard and continued on up the stairs to the master bedroom, going through it to the bathroom on the other side. I duly relieved myself and washed my hands. I was just about to leave when I noticed the laundry hamper in the corner and the strangest feeling came over me. Here was an opportunity to handle the most intimate garments belonging to this incredibly sexy woman. Without further thought on my part the lid was opened and, within seconds, I was holding in my hands a scrap of bright scarlet material. It was a g-string made of satin. As I fingered it my finger slipped through a slit in the front. The material was damp with the secretions of her body and I could feel the moisture on my fingertips. Then I ran my finger along the thin cord which I knew had been rubbing up against her anus, probably only hours ago. With trembling hands I balled the panties in my hand and raised them to my face, covering my nostrils. Then I breathed in, as deeply as I could.
The scent that filled my nostrils was the deep powerful musk that the female of the species has used since the dawn of time to arouse the male and ensure the survival of the human race. It owed nothing to any perfume, science or chemicals. It was raw and basic and the effect on me was electric. As I stood there breathing in this intoxicating aroma, my organ engorged almost instantly, my underclothing becoming tight and uncomfortable. My hand went down to my crotch and I began to rub myself through my clothing. Only a few moments later the waistband of my trousers was undone and both they and my shorts were pooled around my ankles. My hand began to move in smooth even strokes.
It was not enough. I shuffled across the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Peering inside, I found what I had been looking for, a tube of KY jelly. Putting the panties down for just a moment, I picked up the KY, took off the cap, and pressed out a blob onto the palm of my hand. I quickly replaced the cap and then picked up the panties and held them over my nose once more before I spread the KY all over my rigid penis. And so I masturbated. My eyes were closed, my nostrils were flared and in my imagination I was having wild uninhibited sex with the gorgeous Rachel. No, that is wrong. In my mind I was fucking Rachel with total abandoned animal lust. She was lying flat on her back on the silk sheets of her double bed, her legs spread wide apart. I was between them relentlessly driving her to a climax with my engorged shaft as she screamed out my name and begged me to fuck her harder, ever harder.
The images in my minds eye were so graphic and so vivid, the scent of her was so arousing and the warm slippery feel of the KY was so sensuous that, for a brief time, my hand actually became her vagina. This avalanche of sensation could not last and very soon the inevitable happened. I felt my climax approaching, sweeping me up with the power of a tidal wave. I began to tremble, quite violently, as I felt little beads of sweat break out all over my body. I opened my eyes, and desperately shuffled to the washbasin, only just getting there as the first torrent of semen spurted out and splashed against the white porcelain surface. A huge shudder shook my body and I grunted, biting my lip to keep from crying out as the rest of my fluid pulsed out and began to trickle down the drain. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I caught sight of a movement in the half open doorway, reflected in the mirror on the front of the medicine cabinet, but, when I turned to look there was no-one there and not a sound to be heard. I put it down to my imagination and a feeling of guilt at what I had just done.
It did not take me very long to clean up. I washed myself with warm water and the bar of scented soap I found there, then dried myself on one of the soft towels hanging on the towel rail, the towel with a small "Hers" embroidered in a corner. I pulled my shorts and trousers up and fastened everything before carefully cleaning the last traces of my solitary passion from the basin. I almost put the panties in my pocket but decided that it was much too risky and replaced them in the laundry hamper after placing them over my nose for a few deep breaths one final time.
When I went back downstairs the others started ribbing me about taking forever just to take a leak but cryptic remark about a "brown cloud" soon shut them all up, even embarrassed them a little. One of the side effects of what had just happened was a lessening in my personal sexual tension level when I looked at Rachel and so the evening came to a very satisfactory end when Sarah and I left to go home shortly after midnight.
One morning, about a week and a half later, I came down the stairs and passed the hall table where Sarah had placed the morning post, as she usually did. I stopped and leafed through it, putting the dull boring stuff to one side (the bills that is) and finishing with a rather intriguing padded envelope addressed to me. I was about to open it when Sarah called to me from the kitchen,
"Your breakfast is ready love, come through and eat it before it gets cold."
"Coming." I called back, stuffing the envelope into a coat pocket meaning to read it as soon as I had finished my breakfast. Naturally that didn't happen, Sarah and I got engrossed in our conversation and then, suddenly, I was late for my train and had to rush to the station, forgetting all about it.
Sitting in my seat on the commuter train, reading my morning newspaper, I reached into my coat pocket for the tube of mints that I habitually kept there. My fingers found the envelope that I had stuffed in there in such a hurry earlier and I pulled it out. The address was typed on a label and the postmark was an anonymous inner city London borough, no clues there. Curiosity aroused I tore open one end, reached into the plastic bubble wrap interior and withdrew something that I recognised instantly. It was Rachel's red g-string panties, probably the same ones that had recently given me such pleasure, and still soiled judging by the faint whiff of scent which drifted up to my nostrils.
I stared at them in shock for a few seconds and then pushed them back into the envelope, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. . My heart was pounding and thoughts were racing through my head. She knew! She must have seen me. Had she told Michael? Would she tell Sarah? What was I going to do?
