Tammy handed the bag of panties to the woman and smiled. "Thank you. Put them to good use," Tammy said and winked.
The woman smiled back, slightly embarrassed, and turned away from the counter. Tammy watched her leave the store and noticed that the woman wore a thong under her white pants. She could tell by the faint outline just below the woman's belt.
As owner of Tammy's Treasures, the city's hottest lingerie shop, Tammy made it her business to notice these things.
She would talk to anyone about lingerie, and indeed did. Her customers were usually more than happy to tell her what they liked and disliked, which helped Tammy gauge what was hot in the lingerie world. She'd also go online to chat, where she'd often find men and women eager to talk about their preferences. Even though the men were generally more interested in what she was wearing, she could usually tease out of them what it was about lingerie that turned them on. Knowing her customers was a big part of what had made the store such a success.
Men's interest in lingerie was a never-ending source of fascination for her. She'd been in her early twenties when she'd learned what power lingerie, and particularly panties, could hold over a man.
She'd always had a preference for skirts and wore them almost exclusively when it was warm—and usually when it was cold too, though the weather might make pantyhose a necessity. One day in her junior year at college—she had been twenty-one—she was sitting on a bench reading in one of the college's courtyards. She was dressed casually that day, wearing a red blouse and a denim skirt that stopped a couple of inches above the knee. At that time, she preferred playful lingerie, and wore a red silk bra and white cotton panties decorated with little bunches of red cherries—even in her youth, she insisted on matching.
She'd been so engrossed in her reading and so enjoyed the feel of the sun's warmth on her bare legs that she'd gradually let her knees, which were almost touching, come apart to a distance of about a foot. She'd even stretched one leg out so the heel of her sneaker rested on the ground and her toes pointed to the sky. Even though students sat on the grass all around the courtyard, Tammy was lost in her own world, and her surroundings had seemed to fade away. At the end of a chapter, Tammy looked up dreamily, the images produced by the text still playing in her mind. Her eyes gradually focused on her surroundings, and she saw a young man, not ten feet from her, lying on his side in the grass with a book spread out in front of him. He wasn't reading, though, and openly stared at the space between her legs. His eyes had a glazed look and his mouth hung open slightly. She saw that a sizable erection was stretching his shorts.
Tammy immediately crossed her legs, which snapped the boy out of his dream-state. He looked up at her, obviously fearful of being caught. Tammy just averted her eyes and pretended to continue reading. She was embarrassed, but strangely agitated too. She'd never flashed anyone, at least not knowingly, and despite being young and attractive, never really considered that men might be interested in looking up her skirt. Years later, she knew that she'd been hopelessly naïve, and that the boy's stare had awoken something in her.
At the time, she felt a tingling in her panties and squeezed her thighs together, which just made it worse. She cast secret glances over her book as the boy adjusted his erection, apparently trying to make it less noticeable, and shoved his book in his backpack, held it in front of his crotch, and made his escape. Tammy left shortly thereafter. She headed back to her dorm room, and for once her two roommates were gone. She wiggled out of her skirt, lay on her bed, and pulled a sheet up over her. Her cotton panties were warm, as though an engine had started inside them, and slightly damp. With two fingers, she drew little circles over herself, letting the soft cotton of her panties tickle her and slide wetly over her. She pictured the boy, remembering his stare and the faraway look in his eyes that the sight of her panties had produced. She saw his erection and imagined him sitting up, Indian style, and pulling his penis from his shorts. She'd never seen a man masturbating but pictured him stroking his penis. In here mind, it was long and hard, and he stroked it only for her. By the time she came, her panties were soaking wet and her fingers were sticky from the moisture that had seeped through the material. She smiled as she fell into a wonderful, dreamless nap.
Tammy didn't think about the boy again until about a week later, when she saw him in a girlfriend's apartment at a small party she was having. Her friend, Melanie, actually introduced them. His name was Stephen, and apparently he didn't recognize her, or else was very good at hiding it. Perhaps he'd only recognize my panties, she thought, and smiled to herself.
Toward the end of the evening, Tammy stood out on the apartment's balcony talking to her friend Gwen. Stephen was there as well, talking to a boy she didn't know. Tammy snuck covert glances at him and realized that he was quite good-looking in a self-conscious kind of way. He didn't look at all like the pervert she had assumed him to be. In fact, from what little she could observe of him, he seemed nice and maybe even sweet.
"I'm going to get a beer, anybody want one," said the boy talking to Stephen, looking at Gwen and Tammy.
"Umm, sure," said Tammy.
"I'll help," said Gwen in such a way that Tammy knew she had her eyes on the boy. "Don't wait up," whispered Gwen as she followed the boy into the apartment.
"Well," said Stephen, looking uncomfortable, but game.
"I have to be honest," said Tammy. "I don't think we're going to get our beers." She was suddenly self-conscious and was glad she'd worn her short black skirt and silky black blouse. She knew black favored her.
"What do you mean?" asked Stephen.
"Well, I get the feeling that Gwen likes your friend, and I wouldn't be surprised if they don't come back at all."
"Oh," laughed Stephen. "Do you want me to grab us a couple beers?"
He is sweet, she thought. Almost gentlemanly.
"I'm okay for a bit. I'm enjoying this night air," she said, and looked out over the balcony. Stephen turned to look too, so his elbow almost touched hers.
