The girl who was unsure about her trousers
by Maximilian Cummings
"I like your trousers," her friend said admiringly looking at the tight grey cords hugging Anne's bottom below her short top.
"I don't," she replied. Anne was not pleased by yesterday's purchase. She did not think they looked right on her.
"Well, take them off then."
Anne stood up and did just that. The other occupants of the carriage were dumbstruck. Those facing away in their seats turned and craned their necks to look at this brown haired girl who was calmly revealing a sweet pair of white cotton panties. She sat down. They listened to the conversation.
"You're not wearing any trousers."
"I said I didn't like them."
"Lucky you like your panties then!" laughed her friend.
"They're alright I suppose," said Anne looking down, "do you like them?" They were white with a red trim.
"Mmm, suppose so. He certainly does!" She was looking at a young man who was sitting very near them and, like everyone else nearby he was starring at Anne.
"Do you think he likes them better than me?" Anne demanded.
The young man looked away in confusion.
"Perhaps he does—but I really don't think they would suit him." Anne's friend laughed. It was not really a kind laugh.
"You mean they suit him more than me?" Anne snapped. She was looking cross, "well, he'd better have them."
For a moment it looked like she was going to take her panties off.
"No, no, Anne. That would hardly be right on a train would it? He can't possibly try them on."
"Why not," demanded Anne, "all he's got to do is take his jeans and pants off. Perhaps his would suit me better." She looked wistfully at him.
The strange conversation did not seem to pall on the other travellers, their attention was held.
The first girl grinned and looked thoughtful, "I suppose you are right Anne, shall we ask him?"
"Please."
She looked straight at the young man, "Hallo, my friend Anne wants to see if her pants fit you. What's your name?"
"Andrew, Andy," he replied without hesitation as if he was obeying a command.
Anne had stood up again, giving the carriage another look at her legs but they were about to see much more. Her hands took hold of the sides of her white panties and began to roll them down her thighs. Those to one side of her watched as the crack of her white bottom lengthened, whilst those to the front of her, craning their necks in some cases, saw the material roll down to reveal a strip of brown curls that lengthened and narrowed as the panties were pulled downwards to a point where her thighs met. She rolled the panties on down her thighs and stepped out of them. Stepping forward, naked from the waist down, she handed them to Andy who took them with a very surprised expression on his face.
"Here you are, now you try them on."
"Yes, Andy, do," said Anne's friend.
Well, you can imagine the stunned silence of the carriage lasting for quite a few moments before a few earnest whispered conversations started up. The disapproval on the face of a middle-aged woman sitting not far away was a picture to see: though well balanced by the pleasurable grins from a couple of lads a bit further down who were standing to watch.
Andy stood and, to the amazement of the carriage, came out into the corridor and bent to take off his shoes. The eyes of the middle-aged woman widened as he pulled off his jeans revealing his blue striped boxers beneath his shirttails. But no sooner had he dropped his jeans on his seat than Andy pulled off the boxers and these joined the jeans.
The mouth of the middle-aged woman opened to a round 'O' of astonishment. There, poking out from his shirt, just where the button stopped, was his erect penis, its shiny head pointing right at her. Anne saw the erect penis, looked at her friend, and they both burst into gales of laughter.
Of course divorced from its sexual function the erect male appendage does look a funny sight, just standing there and rather in the way—but that was not just what had provoked mirth.
"How's he going to put that in my pants!" Anne giggled.
And she was quite right because, despite the disapproval of the woman, the stares of the carriage and the mirth of the girls Andy had picked up Anne's panties and was putting his legs into them. The thin cotton was pulled up his hairy thighs and over his hips. The panties didn't look too bad—after all white with a red trim is not completely unmanly—but nonetheless they just did not look right due to not simply a discreet bulge at the front but a prominent ridge rising right up the front of the panties and out over the top of the red trim of the panties as Andy's penis rose beyond the margin displaying, despite being a little obscured by his shirt hanging down, its purple head, its glans, squashed against Andy's stomach.
"It's certainly not going to stay in your pants like that—it needs to be brought down to size!" laughed Anne's friend, "how are you going to do that?"
Anne looked thoughtful, "cold water?" she suggested.
"Don't be silly, how are you going to carry that from the washbasin in the loo and, in any case, it would make your pants all wet. That wouldn't look right."
"No, I suppose not. Couldn't Andy push it to one side?"
"Dumbo, that wouldn't look right either."
"What should we do?"
"We, Anne? They're your panties. You are going to have to do something." She looked thoughtful. "I know, Anne, if you make him cum then his prick will go all soft and you will be able to see if they fit."
"Oh yes," Anne said brightly, "I'll wank him off."
"No dumbo, you'll get mess all over your panties, you don't want his mess all over them do you? You should blow him and swallow—then he won't make a mess."
"Oh no, I don't like doing that, I don't like boys cumming in my mouth."
"Yes you do, Anne, you've forgotten you like it very much."
"Silly me, I do, don't I!"
So before Andy had sat down Anne was across the gangway, pushing his shirt out of the way, pulling her panties down Andy's hips and freeing his penis. She gave a long lick right up it. The face of the middle-aged woman was a picture.