The phone weighed heavily in my hands as I considered my options. It was the end of my eighteenth birthday, the day I had promised myself that if I was still a virgin then I would make a change. Heck, who was I kidding, even having had my first kiss would have led me to holding off what seemed to be the inevitable for a while. Instead, after my party, I was putting the finishing touches to my Tinder profile. I had always been of the opinion that it was for a shallow, desperate, sex driven people; at least I checked two of the boxes. Something though, was holding me back.
I rolled over on my bed, so I was facing the opposite wall. I noticed two things. Firstly, the time: 4.38am. It had been a good party after all, even if I hadn't got any. Secondly, the was a small piece of red material lying just besides my bed. I picked it up and inspected it. Immediately, it became clear that even if I had not got any action tonight, someone had. The thong was lacy and tiny, either the girl was very petite or the goal was not to cover much. In my head, it was both.
I put my phone down beside me, and inspected the thong further. Upon manoeuvring it about, my hand hit something wet. It was the crotch; I looked inside. A creamy, almost white shine was reflecting in the low light of the room. There was an evident wet patch where the girl's pussy had been. She had really wanted it, whoever she was, and she got it- in my bed.
With no real thought behind it, I pulled the panties close to my face and inhaled. The scent was heavenly. My cock twitched. I needed more of that musky, sexual smell, so much so the wet patch touched my nose. That was fine with me. I breathed in deeply, my cock grew further. Blood rushed to my head- both of them. That was all the encouragement I needed; I wanted this for real. With my spare hand, I made a few final adjustments and sent my profile out to the world.
I could wait no longer. My right hand fiddled with my jeans and awkwardly pulled them off, before reaching for my cock and embracing it like an old friend. I may not be experienced with a partner, but I was an expert at pleasuring myself. I stroked slowly at first, a thrust a second, lining my breathing up with my movements much like a sniper before making their kill. My mind went to the producer of the scent that had me in a trance. Who did she fuck? What position? Was she bent over my bed and fucked doggy style? Maybe reverse cowgirl, pulling her panties to the side and soaking them with her juices before taking them off for something more vigorous. Did she manage to orgasm before she clearly hastily left?
My questions quickly turned into fantasies. Me stood behind this imaginary girl, giving her the time of my life. My mind flittered between images of that and of my head buried between her legs, my tongue hard at work on her shaved pussy. Did I mention that I knew what I was talking about, even if I did not have the experience to back it up? Porn and Literotica saw to that.
Once more without reason, my nose drenched in her scent, I wrapped the panties around my cock and continued to jerk off. The feel of the material rubbing against my cock's head was a new sensation and a good one at that. I could feel my orgasm building. The images of the girl being pounded by my cock grew. I was close. So close. She was too. She called my name, I could almost see who she was.
But then I was done and she was snatched away. My cum was intercepted by the thin material of the thong. It began to seep through. After a moment to recover, and no longer wanting to experience the smell of her pussy if it was intermingled with my cum, I chucked the panties under my bed, too tired to do anything else. I lay back. It was not long before sleep took me.
*
A day had passed, one full of fruitless Tinder interactions. Sure, I had got enough matches, more than I had expected in fact. However, once I got into a conversation with a girl it always seemed to fizzle out. Either the conversation was dead before it began, or they didn't give much back in the way of effort. Maybe it was me? So far, the best I had received was one selfie of half a girl's face in return for proving I was not a catfish. Hardly sexting, never mind a meet up. I was just about to chuck my phone down following my latest swiping session when a message popped. It was from Rhiannon, a girl from school who I didn't know too well, but attended my party. She was brunette, slim and fairly pale. She was not a supermodel by any means but she was certainly pretty. Word on the street said the things she could do with her C cups were legendary; she had a reputation for being a little promiscuous.
R: Hey Ben, think I left my earrings round at yours the other night. Have you found any?
B: No, sorry! What do the look like?
R: They're tiny little stud diamonds, you'll never find them. Do you mind if I come round and have a look? I'm driving past yours in a bit on my way out anyway!
B: Sure, see you in a bit.
I sat in the lounge so I wouldn't miss the doorbell. Boredom won out and I slipped my phone out of my pocket and began swiping again. Fifteen matches later, including one rather attractive blonde, Rhiannon knocked on my door. I scrabbled for the door, dropping my phone as a consequence.
"Hey!" I greeted a little too enthusiastically.
"Hi," Rhiannon replied as we engaged in an awkward hug.
"Come in," I gestured. "My parents are out on date night, so feel free to look wherever you like!"
"You do know that just means they've gone out of the house to fuck, rather than do it here?" Rhiannon teased.
"Shut up," I said, cringing.
"Your Dad is fit to be fair," she said. "I would."
"Please, stop!" I begged, even though I was having exactly the same thoughts about Rhiannon. She was dressed to the nines, with a tight, leather mini skirt and barely there crop top. Her makeup was gorgeous, with a light pink eye shadow framed by her straightened hair.
"Sorry," she giggled. "Oh shit, you dropped your phone!"
Before I could stop her, Rhiannon was past me and into the lounge. She bent over at the waist, giving me a view of more than she intended, I think. Her skirt rode up a little, and suddenly her pussy was on display. The one thing stopping me getting a perfect view of her lips was a tiny black, lace panty. In a flash, everything was back in its place.
"Ben Simons on Tinder, who'd have thought it?" she laughed. "And this girl, wow. Even I would fuck her! How's Tinder going for you?"
"Not great," I blushed. "I only got it a couple days ago."
"Let me see," she said, even though she was yet to return my phone. She swiped over the messages section and began flicking through the various chats. Every so often she would let out a tut or a sigh, or even a slight shake of the head. "No wonder you're tanking all these! It's a good job you're good looking or you would be getting nowhere."
My cheeks flushed red at that.
"Why? What?" I said, clamouring for a view of the tiny screen.
"Luckily you're not too deep with this one," she muttered, 'this one' being Charlotte. She was 24, lived three miles away and had a pretty face and stunning blonde hair. "There's a formula, watch and observe. Firstly, everything has to be sexually charged; you want these girls to view you as a potential fuck, not a best friend. For example, compliment her top but mention you wouldn't mind seeing what's underneath."
B: I love your top, I reckon what's underneath looks even better?
C: Oh, really now?
B: Oh yes, if you gave me your Snapchat we could put it to the test...
"Holy shit," I gasped, as Charlotte immediately replied to my ghost-written message with her Snapchat.
"Secondly, keep it short and sweet. Confidence is what will change the game for you. Pretend you are, even if you're really not- they can't see you. Go in for the kill as early as possible," Rhiannon said as she copied and pasted Charlotte's username into Snapchat and typed out another message. "And finally, seal the deal."
B: Hey x
C: Heyyy x
B: Think we need to conduct our experiment now...
C: You're lucky I was getting changed already...
*NEW SNAP*
"And...voila!" Rhiannon exclaimed dramatically.
"You're a wizard!" I gasped.
"Follow my formula, and you will be too!" she laughed. "Now, I'm going to go and find my earrings. Please don't be wanking yourself off when I come back!"
I gave a small laugh but could not take my eyes from the red square on my screen that idiicated a picture message was ready to be viewed. I didn't even notice Rhiannon slip away. My first nude. I was already semi hard and I hadn't even seen it yet. I considered waiting until I was alone, but I couldn't contain myself. I tapped the square and the screen filled with Charlotte's womanly body.
Oddly, my eyes went first to her flat stomach- though she was clearly breathing in. They moved upwards, resting on her chest. Her tits were large but that was about all I could tell because she was wearing a bra. It dipped in the cup, affording me a good view of her cleavage. Not fully nude, but I would certainly take it. The top of her red panties were even peeking out at the bottom of the frame.
Shit. That stopped me in my tracks. Careful not to make the picture disappear, but eager to not let it out of my sight, I clambered hastily up the stairs though I was somewhat impeded by my erect cock. As my room came to view as I approached the top step, that hard on quickly disappeared. Rhiannon was stood with her back to me, discarded, cum soaked panties in hand.
"I can explain!" I offered.
"You better be able to," Rhiannon said, turning to look at me, her tone calm and inquisitive rather than angry. "Because these are mine."
I was just about to begin on my long, grovelling apology when what Rhiannon said downstairs same into my head. Confidence is what will change the game for you.
"In that case, maybe you should tell me what your panties were doing up here in the first place," I replied with as manly a voice as I could, though the tremble at the end almost gave me away.
Rhiannon raised her eyebrow, "Oh, really?" she asked, as she stepped forward towards me; slowly, sensually. "You want to know why my panties were on your bedroom floor?"
