Jim and Jen and I settled into something of a rhythm as the weeks passed. They would call or stop by my house when they needed my services and I would take care of them the best I could.
Naturally, I serviced Jim more than I did his wife, but that was to be expected.
On more than one occasion, Jen and I would be talking and she would let it drop that we'd missed a chance for me to get a creamy treat from between her thighs.
"I tried to get you a creampie," she said one day while we were drinking coffee in her kitchen.
I nearly did a spit take, but I held it in, coughing and sputtering.
"What?" I replied, thinking how quick our conversation had diverted from local homeowner's association politics to my licking the ejaculate her husband leaves behind in her pussy.
"I tried to get you a creampie," she repeated. "Jim wanted came to bed horny last night. I tried to put him off until this morning, but he was insistent."
"You can't set your sex life around whether we can play afterward," I said. "That's not realistic. And, by the way, I'm pretty sure I've never heard anybody actually use the word 'creampie' in a sentence before. Except maybe in a porn movie, or something."
"Well, that's what it's called, right?
I nodded, conceding the point.
Just as quickly as the conversation had veered to sex, it veered away again, as we finished a pot between us.
As I made my farewells, Jen stopped me at the door.
"I wiped up with the panties I wore to bed. Do you want to borrow them?"
My cock twitched in my pants. I merely nodded, at a loss for words.
Jen disappeared and came back with something pink and lacy folded in her hands.
"Bring them back when you are done, please," she said.
I gripped them in my hand as I made my across the yard to my house. Inside, I discovered she'd given me a thong, with a wide pink lace band and white polka-dotted cotton front. The crotch and inside of the panty was sticky from where Jen had wiped the remnants of their sex.
I held the panties to my face and inhaled deeply. My cock was hard as I dropped my pants and started stroking myself. I licked the panties as I masturbated, the subtle flavors of their secretions filling my mouth.
This wasn't a leisurely wank. I wanted to cum. Badly.
Just before I felt my load start to break loose, I took the panties from my face and held them over my erection. As I came, my cum landed on what was left of my neighbor's sex from the night before. I used them to clean myself up and tossed them on the dirty clothes pile to wash.
* * * * *
Little did I know how important those panties would become. I did wash them not long after Jen gave them to me, but I didn't return them right away. In fact, I used them for my self-pleasure more than once.
I was discovering that I was more and more interested in wearing panties, especially when I jerked off. There was something about slipping them on that made me hot.
But they almost gave me a heart attack, too.
I was in my laundry room when I heard a knock at the back door. Since Jim was the only person who had ever come in that way, I assumed (correctly) it was him.
I was taking clean clothes out of the dryer as we chatted, when I came out with his wife's panties. I wasn't paying attention, but he was.
"Who's are those?" he asked.
Oh, shit.
I could feel my face turning red. I didn't know what to say. If Jim recognized them as his wife's, my whole world, along with theirs, might just come crashing down.
But Jim apparently didn't recognize them. A look not unlike the one he gave me in the hot tub that night came over his face.
"Are they yours? Do you wear them?"
I nodded, still unable to make words come out of my mouth.
"How often do you wear them?"
"Just... sometimes," I managed to croak.
A grin broke across his face.
"That's kinda hot," he said. "I assume you jerk off while you wear them?"