Panty Trap

"So you're not wearing any panties right now?" Tammy said to Sherry, causing the two guys at the high-top next to them to snap their heads in the sisters' direction.

Sherry closed her knees, smiling crookedly at how the music in the bar had dipped at the exact moment her sister had spoken. "Do you want to try that a little louder? I think there are some guys in the back who aren't aware there's nothing under my skirt but little old me."

Tammy and Sherry were four drinks in, and it had taken Sherry the first three to begin to tell the story. She still couldn't believe she'd done it — or the effect it had had on Rob.

Tammy wore a look Sherry knew well, one that said she was bursting to say five different things at once and didn't know where to start. Sherry wondered for the millionth time whether all older sisters were such pain in the asses.

"One," Tammy said, "there's nothing little about you."

"Noted," said Sherry. "And you wish you had my curves, honey." They couldn't have been more different physically. Where Sherry had big breasts, wide hips, a belly, and thick thighs, Tammy was skinny with B cups and had been having guys throw themselves at her as long as Sherry could remember.

In fairness, Sherry thought, Tammy was a really cool chick when she wasn't royally pissing you off.

"I don't," said Tammy, "but more importantly, "I can't believe you did that? I mean, what?"

Sherry pressed her thighs together and had the urge to slide a hand under her skirt and explore the wetness that had been present ever since she'd literally dropped Rob to his knees. "What can I say? Inspiration struck. And it got me out here, didn't it?"

"I can't argue with that," Sherry said and sipped her Long Island ice tea through a straw. "What does he have, like, a panty fetish? A thing for big chicks?"

Sherry took a hit of her margarita. "I don't know. Maybe both. I wouldn't really have thought either. It just all sort of happened, so I'm trying to figure it out after the fact."

"Are you into him?" Tammy asked.

Without thinking Sherry shot back, "No!" But then she had to admit, "I don't know."

She sure hadn't planned on starting anything with someone at work, and she wouldn't have thought Rob was interested anyway. He was apparently some big deal tennis player in college or something, and she wasn't exactly an all-American athlete. But — if it wasn't the margaritas talking, and that was a big if — she had to admit that there might be something there.

An entire universe had seemed to open up inside her when he'd dropped to his knees, when she'd loomed up over him, when she'd seen his eyes swim and heard him moan as she lifted her skirt. She squeezed her thighs together again and thought about his face pressed to her panties.

This was definitely something she wanted to explore.

***

Rob tried desperately to get his work done, but he couldn't concentrate to save his life. All he needed to do was knock out a press release and he could go home, but even with an opening line and a clear idea of what he needed to communicate, the words kept flying away, and all his thoughts kept jumbling together.

Having his boss, Denise, popping in every five minutes to check on his progress didn't make things any easier. He knew she was eager to get his draft, but he wished she'd just go home and let him be.

Plus, he didn't know how she'd avoided seeing his hard-on to this point, and it was becoming a real problem.

Rob put his hand in his pocket, as he'd done time and again since coming to in the office, and touched the silk. He looked at the open doorway and knew he shouldn't risk it, that it would be impossibly stupid, but neither could he help himself.

Rob drew out Sherry's panties and held them up before him with two hands, spreading them out so he could imagine her in them, her leg holes giving way to her thick thighs, the lace panels decorating her ambitious hips, the waistband that would hug the swell of her belly, and the crotch that would kiss her sweetness beneath.

Her panties were cut like bikinis, but they were so much bigger than the panties of any girl he'd been with. Rather than turn him off, though, they lit his thoughts on fire. Seeing them so big before him made it seem like he were in a theater and a fantasy woman had stepped off the silver screen, bigger than life and orders of magnitude sexier.

He brought Sherry's panties closer, thinking again of how it had felt when she'd trapped him between her thighs. Flesh and warmth and skin like the smoothest cream. His cock twitched, and he ached to stroke it. Rob was vaguely aware that precum had made a dark circle on the front of his pants, and he didn't think he'd been so horny since he was an awkward thirteen-year-old jerking off every chance he got.

A sound in the hallway nearly gave him a heart attack, and he thrust Sherry's panties between his thighs and started typing. A second later Denise entered the room.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, sounding anything but and aware he'd broken into a sweat. "Just trying to get this done."

"Well, hurry up," she said, "I want to get out of here too."

He couldn't very well tell his boss how the only thing he cared about in the world at that moment was stroking his cock to the thought of Sherry in her black skirt, white silk panties underneath, a perfect shimmery triangle that only he had been granted access to, a sexy secret that had him helplessly in its thrall.

What have you done to me? he thought.