Naughty Girl's Sexy Curiosity
The figure was having a great deal of fun with its mind-controlling panties. Each pair had produced a different effect on the girls who'd donned them. The figure was greatly amused by the ease at which humans could be manipulated.
It was eager to have more fun.
Today, the figure held another subdued pair of panties. Girlish even. They were all white with princess-pink letters, written in flowing cursive, across the seat of the panties. A single word: Curious? An interrogative to inflame the mind of a special girl. A girl already curious by nature, but one who could become even more inquisitive.
The figure slipped into a trendy clothing store. It swept past the young women who browsed the shelves, looking for cute buys and adorable outfits. No one noticed the figure. It was nondescript. Unremarkable. Just another shopper browsing through the store. The figure drifted, almost casually, towards the display holding a variety of panties. They were all cute, with girlish designs or adorable phrases printed on their rear. Not unlike the pair of panties clutched in the figure's hand. Many even had the lace-trimmed waistbands.
With a casual flick of the wrist, the panties were tossed onto the display. Finished, the figure slipped out of the store, unremarked.
Its quarry entered moments later.
Wendy was an eighteen-year-old, slender girl, with black hair falling around her round face. Her breasts were small, little A cups. They were perfect handfuls. She was just burgeoning into her sexuality. She had a natural curiosity about sex, not surprising giving the hormones raging through her youthful body. She was getting interested in boys. In cocks. She started to think about them all the time. Obviously, she'd seen pictures in health classes. She'd even seen a few passed around among her friends, the group giggling over shots of porn stars hard and erect.
She wanted to see a real one, but she was also more than a little scared. She wasn't as bold as some of her classmates. Many of them had already lost their virginities. They were eighteen or older, enjoying the delights of their nubile bodies. Wendy wanted to be like them.
She just had to find the right boy.
Thoughts of romance danced in her head as she drifted towards the panties section. Wendy liked buying panties. She had a collection of cute, adorable underwear. Nothing too daring, no thongs. No cheekies or bikini-cuts. She had a bathing suit that showed more flesh than most of her panties. Today, her eyes fell on that sweep of the princess-pink cursive word across the back of the panties. The pair lay front and center.
Curious?
She was. Her hands reached out, grasping the cotton/polyester blend. She picked it up, her fingers brushing the lace. Tingles raced up her arm and rippled across her skin, galvanizing her. Her nipples hardened and that naughty itch she got when she thought about boys and their hard cocks burst to life between her thighs. She groaned as she stared at that single word.
Curious?
She absolutely was.
Of course, the girl tried to pay for it. And the cashier even pretended to ring it up, but neither of them realized no price popped up on the screen. Wendy didn't realize she was paying less than she should have for all the items she was taking home. It just felt natural. Right.
She was curious to try on her new panties.
* * *
Wendy Lovell
I was curious about what my new panties would feel like the morning after I bought them. I had to get to college, my first year of college well underway. I grabbed those panties along with the rest of my clothes I'd wear. I headed to the bathroom. My older sister had gone first, leaving a steamy room behind. I was so eager to don the panties, but I couldn't go to school without showering. As curious as I was, I hopped in and quickly washed.
I don't remember the last time I showered so fast. I must've set a Guinness World Record. I was back out in a flash, my hand snagging up the fluffy towel to dry my nubile body. My nipples were hard, the terrycloth fabric of the towel feeling wicked against them. The molten itch in my pussy, tingling in me since I bought the panties, intensified.
I just had to try them on.
I snagged the panties and stepped into them before I was even fully dry. I was damp. By the time I reached downstairs, I'd be dry. I stepped into them, the lace rubbing into my palms. That wonderful tingles raced up them. I whimpered as I pulled them higher and higher up my legs, my little titties jiggling as I shuddered.
What made these panties feel amazing? I wanted to know. They were just so amazing. I didn't even know who made them. They didn't have a label on them. I tried to Google them. I wanted to buy the entire set. I could only imagine what other fun phrases they would have on them.
My curiosity itched at my brain. I pulled my panties fully up my legs and a little to adjust them properly. The stretchy material cupped my rump, the lace looking so cute as it encircled my waist. I couldn't help but cock a few poses, staring at my blurry reflection in the mirror.
I dressed in the rest of my clothing, bra, skirt, pink tights, and a fluffy cashmere sweater. My black hair bounced around my head as I headed downstairs.
I reached the bottom and gasped as I saw my sister. She was wearing a tight pair of jeans. I swear she had to pour herself into those skinny jeans to don them. Nothing else made sense. My eyes found her rear, seeing her perky ass cupped by the denim. The fabric gripped her rump tighter than the panties clung to my rear.
I licked my lips. I wondered what sort of panties my sister was wearing. It had to be a thong. I couldn't see any lines at all. As she bent over, her shirt rode up just enough for me to see the whale tail.
What would she look like in only a thong? I so wanted to know.
My sister, Clarissa, glanced at me as she straightened. She was twenty, a senior. "Are you staring at my ass, Wendy?"
"Just... Your jeans look good on you."
She smiled." Maybe you'll wear a pair like this, huh? Start teasing the boys?"
I shrugged.
Mom swept into the room dressed for her office job. She wore a gray pencil skirt and a conservative blouse that was ruffled in the front. As she walked by, I glanced at her rear. What sort of panties did she have on under there? What kind of panties did mom wear to work? I wanted to run over, lift up her skirt, and find out.
It itched my brain. My fingertips.
My sister waved her hand in front of my face. "Now you're checking out Mom's ass?"
My cheeks burned. "No, I'm not," I quickly said. "You need to get your eyes checked."
"Whatev, weirdo," my sister said, rolling her brown eyes.
I wasn't weird. What was wrong about wondering what sort of panties another girl was wearing? Girls were always checking out each other's clothes. So what was the big deal?
My fingers itched to yank down my sister's jeans and our mom's skirt. What were their panties like? Ooh, I just wanted to know. It made my pussy so wet wondering. Did Mom have sexy panties on underneath? Or did she have granny panties? The questions tumbled through my head all throughout breakfast.
Finished, I headed out with my sister. We had to get to our college. My sister gave me a ride, though I was usually on my own for getting home. She had better things to do than drive around "the annoying, little brat" as she called me to her friends.
