This story has been on my mind for a while. Trying to decide if I should publish it. That's because it's a subject that a lot of readers won't like, perhaps even finding it distasteful. However, some will enjoy it, so I've decided to publish it for them, the panty enthusiasts.
And if among all the negative comments, there is at least one that praises it, then I will be happy!
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They were small and made of cheap cotton. An inexpensive item. When new, they were a vibrant red, but not anymore. Now they were a dull pink, an unattractive colour. The gusset was frayed and the seams were missing some threads. They hadn't aged well. The time to throw them away, and buy a new pair, was long overdue. But when I picked them up from the bathroom floor, those insignificant pair of panties made my heart beat faster. And when I opened them up, and I saw that they were stained with her juices, my cock started to stiffen. I held them in my hand with reverence, as if they were a sacred object, and then I inspected them.
Today was a good day, they were not just heavily stained, they also emitted a strong musky odour. That's not to everyone's taste, in fact, a lot of men would find that gross. However, for me, that was the icing on the cake. And I make no apologies for that, it's just the way I am.
What had she been doing to herself to make them like that? She must have fingered herself, but how many times? When I smothered my face with them the smell was intoxicating, almost overpowering. I took in several deep breaths, and that made me feel light-headed. With them still covering my face, I quickly unzipped my trousers. This was going to be good.
I didn't have long so I needed to be quick. But that wasn't a problem. Just knowing where the material of her panties had been was enough to make me come quickly. A few more strokes were all that was needed. Before she'd discarded them they'd been touching her sweet pussy, soaking up her nectar, now they were wrapped around my engorged cock while I was furiously stroking it. And while I was doing it all I was thinking about was her.
A minute was all that I'd needed, but that hadn't diminished my climax. It was explosive, one of my best, and it had taken all of my self-control to stay silent. I'd splattered the bathroom floor with my semen, and there was a lot of it. After wiping it up I carefully examined the panties. There was a small spot of pre-cum on it, but nothing to be worried about. I then tossed it into the laundry basket.
I'd been at work now for over an hour, but I still hadn't done anything of any significance. I couldn't concentrate. Jerking off in the bathroom had given me instant gratification, but it hadn't completely satisfied me. I wanted more than pleasuring myself with her used panties, I wanted her!
When I got home I was thirty minutes late, and that was too good an opportunity for Grace to ignore. With her arms folded across her chest, and in an aggressive tone, she said, "You were supposed to be back at six."
No welcome home hug, or 'How was your day?' instead, just criticism of my timekeeping.
I didn't feel that I needed to apologise. However, to keep the peace, I did. That made her smile. She was the winner, and to her, even something as trivial as that was important. It was sad that our marriage, that had once been idyllic, had come to this.
That night, as usual, we slept in the same bed. But for how much longer? I didn't want to admit it, but the truth was that our marriage, that had once burned fiercely, was now only dying embers. The sensible thing to do was to end it, but for some reason, that I didn't really understand, I was reluctant to do that.
As I was drifting off to sleep I heard footsteps on the stairs. It was Holly returning from a night out with her friends. Our beautiful Daughter, the love of our lives. She was nineteen years old, full of life, just like her Mother was when she was younger.
Hopefully, tomorrow morning, there would be another present from her in the bathroom!
I wasn't disappointed. This time though, she hadn't left her underwear on the floor, it was in the laundry basket. It was a new pair, one that I hadn't seen before, and it was black. Not my favourite colour, but perfect for displaying her womanly juices.
The material was silky smooth, so it was effortlessly moving over my cock. My excitement was building. Very soon I was going to spurt. When I closed my eyes I thought about my Daughter, and how good it would feel to come inside her. That was more than enough to make me reach it.
This time I'd been careless, carried away by the excitement of it all. I hadn't shot my load onto the floor, instead, all of it had gone onto her panties. They were a mess, sticky with my cum. Wiping them with some toilet paper was only making it worse. I was annoyed with myself. I should have been more careful. But what was I going to do? I couldn't leave them like that.
When I left the bathroom they were hidden at the bottom of the laundry basket with the other dirty clothes on top of them. I'd rinsed them in the sink and then I'd squeezed out as much of the water as I could, but they were still damp. There was nothing I could do about that. However, it was unlikely that my 'minor' indiscretion would be noticed, but I was still apprehensive. This should serve as a wake-up call. What had started six months ago, and was now occurring more frequently, should stop. I wasn't a teenager that couldn't resist his Mother's or Sister's underwear because of their raging hormones. I was forty two, old enough to be able to refrain from that particular temptation. However, I didn't think that I was capable of stopping. The best that I could do was to try to be more careful whenever I was jerking off with her panties.
That evening, I was home on time, and to my surprise, Grace seemed happy to see me. We ate together and it was a pleasant experience, so good, that it was possible that we might even have sex tonight. However, I was managing my expectations. It would be nice if it happened, but it was far from being a certainty. It was at least six weeks, perhaps even longer than that, since there'd been any activity in the bedroom. So being realistic, it was more likely than not, that my losing streak was going to continue for at least another day.
We were in bed early, before nine o'clock. That was a good sign. When I cuddled up to her I was hopeful, but that was until she spoke.
"We've had a nice evening, don't spoil it."
I didn't respond, because what can you say to that? But I did continue holding her until I fell asleep.
I was getting a lot of pleasure from using Holly's panties. However, I wasn't proud about it. It would be better if I wasn't doing it, so I decided to end my obsession with my Daughter's underwear. For the next few days I was on my best behaviour, and that made me feel righteous. If her panties were on the bathroom floor, I ignored them, and if they weren't there, then I didn't rummage in the laundry basket for them. I felt good about myself, but deep down, I knew that it was never going to last. And of course, it didn't!
They weren't just on the bathroom floor, they were in the middle of it, and they were spread out. It was as if they'd been placed there to tempt me. If they could speak then they'd be calling out my name.
"Richard, you know you want to. I'm all yours. Come and get me."
I was standing there, staring at them, knowing that eventually I was going to pick them up. But I was putting up a fight, even though I knew that it was futile. It was me against the panties, and I was never going to win.
They were her best pair, the ones she wore for special occasions, and they were my favourite. I liked everything about them. They were both stylish and sexy. A combination that's difficult to achieve with underwear. They were also a vibrant red, and the material of them was as soft as silk.
They were now in my hand, close to my face. I was savouring the moment. The anticipation of what was going to happen next had heightened my senses. The smell of them was intense, almost too much for me. As my tongue slowly moved over the part of them that had been against her pussy, I closed my eyes. As good as this was, I wanted more. I wanted my face to be covered with her sticky juices. I didn't want my tongue on her panties. I wanted it on her little pussy.
This was the best one ever, and I was determined to make it last. I'd already come close twice, before backing off. Now I was doing it for a third time, but I needed to be careful. I was on the edge. It wasn't going to take much more of this to make me come.
Then something happened that was beyond embarrassing. It was something that might even haunt me for the rest of my life. Holly was standing there in front of me with her mouth open, staring at my erect cock that had her panties wrapped around it. And I was motionless. My hand still on my swollen member, but not moving.
Then a bad situation got even worse!
I started to spurt. Wave after wave of it landing in front of her, near to her feet. I thought it was never going to end. It was as if I was offering it to her. She was looking at it, horrified at what she was seeing,
"I can ..."
That was as far as I got. She was now gone, as quickly as she had entered. I closed the door, and this time I made sure that it was locked.
