My love for panties goes back as long as I can remember. When I met my girlfriends mother I knew I had to have her panties. She wore a tight fitting skirt with an iridescent white blouse. The blouse showed her lace bra underneath and just a hint of her dark nipples trying to break free. Her panty lines were evident , full granny panties it appeared, yet there was a slender look to them. My anxiety to see what lay beneath was soon quenched as she stepped over her daughter and I. I snuck a peek that seemed to take hours for nothing more than a glimpse. She had a white slip under the skirt that may be why her panty lines had been subdued.
I hinted to my girl that I needed to wash my work clothes if I were to stay. After changing she told me to follow her down the hall to her mothers room. She had just finished her laundry so she had nothing to add. Without a thought she threw open the hamper next to the laundry and started adding to the load. Playing dumb I commented that I thought she had already done her laundry. It's not mine it's my mothers she stated and continued to load clothes in the washer with mine. The scent of perfume, sweat, smoke, and musky gussets were filling my nostrils.