"The Neighbor's Panties" - Part One
-> Panty Stories - 'true', 'fiction' or 'erotica'

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#1: "The Neighbor's Panties" - Part One Author: fiversex,  Posted: Fri Apr 06, 2007 1:15 am
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She was folding a pair of panties. They weren't fancy panties. They
were a little white cotton thong. They were flimsy, though. Skimpier
than you'd expect a woman in her forties to wear. They were still
snow-white.

I wasn't staring intentionally, of course. I'd just always had a thing
for hot older women, and she was the epitome. She was in shape -- I'd
seen her at the apartment pool in a two-piece. Real smooth, tight
little buns. Her breasts weren't huge, but above average, I suppose.
Nice tan. Short, dark hair just starting to get a little gray. She
looked her age, but she looked great for it.

So she was folding her little white thong in the laundry room on our
floor and I didn't realize I was staring. Not till she looked over and
smiled.

We'd smiled at each other before -- polite,
I-know-you-live-on-this-floor-but-that's-all smiles -- and said hello
a few times going in and out of the building. That was about it. I was
25. I liked to think I was decent-looking -- I usually had a girl or
two to hang out with -- but I wasn't the kind of guy who'd try to
approach, much less hit on, a very professional, gorgeous,
fortysomething woman.

But she smiled in the laundry room, and of course I blushed -- which I
don't do often -- and turned my head, like I wasn't watching. She just
kept folding, and when I glanced sidelong at her, she wasn't paying
any attention to me. I got my first load out of the dryer and
transferred my second into it.

She finished folding her clothes, picked up her basket and left -- I
thought. I finished with my clothes and stood up, and she was standing
by the door, watching me, smiling again.

Her little snow-white thong was dangling from her finger.

"I have to hand-wash all my really nice pairs," she said. "So the only
way anyone else could ever see them is if he came over to visit."

Maybe I nodded. Probably I just stared dumbly.

"In about twenty minutes?" she asked. She was playing with the panties
in her hand, twirling them, rubbing them with her thumb. I think I did
nod then. "Take a shower first." Then she walked out.

After a dozen or so seconds had passed, I exhaled. I shook my head. I
busted ass back to my apartment to get cleaned up.

* * *

I shaved, showered, generally cleaned up and was knocking on her door
exactly twenty minutes later.

She opened it. She was wearing a little creme kimono and a pair of
white stiletto heels. I couldn't tell if she had anything on
underneath the kimono. I felt overdressed.

She smiled, ushered me in. Sat me down on her couch and offered me a
glass of red wine. She poured one for each of us, then sat down on the
loveseat opposite me.

"I'm Linda," she said.

"Jay," I replied. She nodded.

I don't even know what we talked about. I know we finished the first
bottle of wine and opened another. I know we didn't talk about sex at
all, although my hard-on never went away. Every so often, she'd glance
down the hallway behind us, down where her bedroom had to be. Then
she'd smile almost devilishly and ask another innocent question. She
knew she was killing me.

Linda was 41. She'd been divorced for ten years, no kids. The rest of
her family didn't live in California. She did some consulting work, on
a freelance basis. Her ex had done pretty well, she admitted, and
she'd done pretty well when they split up. She talked about it
casually, unashamedly but not brazenly.

"I'm a hedonist," she said. "I like to work, but I'd rather play. I
can make money -- I helped him make a lot of his. Why shouldn't I let
him support me? It doesn't hurt his standard of living, believe me."

"A hedonist, huh?" The word was a total opening, and I took it.

She nodded, leaned over and opened the drawer in her end table. She
pulled out a bag of weed, glanced at me. I nodded. I was already
drunk.

She rolled a fat joint, lit it, sucked, and passed it to me.

* * *

Linda and I got nice and high. We drank a little more wine, finished
the joint, and then she stood and motioned for me to follow her down
the hall.

She headed into her bedroom. I followed in a happy haze. I stopped
dead at the door.

She was standing at the end of the bed, one high-heeled foot up on it.
Her kimono was hanging open, and her perfect, mouth-watering tits were
in full view. Besides the robe and the heels, all she was wearing were
the little white panties from the laundry room.

Her bed -- huge, a California king -- though, was covered in panties.
Literally dozens of colorful, frilly, flimsy, girlie undies were laid
out all over it.

I couldn't take my eyes off it. My cock was like a stick of hot iron.

"This is my collection. I only show it to my most special friends. I
... I know you like *these*" -- she looked down at her tight white
thong; she turned around and dropped the kimono off her shoulders so I
could see the tiny white strip running between her asscheeks -- "but I
thought you might like me to model a few more pairs?"

"Uh-huh," I said. She guided me to the bed, where I made space among
the piles of panties and leaned back against her pillows.

She straddled me. I wanted to put my hands, my mouth on her, but I got
the sense I wasn't allowed yet. She bumped and ground over my aching
crotch, pushed her tits toward my face but not quite. She swiveled,
got on all fours and thrust her ass out, shaking it in my face. The
little white cotton strip was maybe a centimeter thick.

"You like that?" she breathed. "You like that ass in your face?"

"Yes," I said, croaking. My mouth was getting cottony from the pot. I
watched her ass bump up and down.

She thrust it back into my face. "Sniff it. Take a deep sniff," she
said.

I did. I got as close to her ass as I could without touching her and
inhaled: She smelled musky, oily, dirty, spicy. No girl had ever let
me sniff her ass like this. I couldn't get enough. I took deeper and
deeper breaths. I kept reaching out to touch her -- just to touch her
somewhere -- and she would lightly slap my hand. "No," she said, "keep
sniffing." I did. I started to whine involuntarily -- just little
moans I couldn't keep in.

I sounded like an animal. I saw Linda smiling at me while I lay there,
fully clothed, inhaling her ass-scent and almost yelping. It was a
satisfied smile.

"Bow wow," she said softly. "Bow wow...bow wow..." She almost
whispered it, but she said it insistently.
It turned me on so much I nearly blew in my pants. She *was* treating
me like an animal -- like a pet. "Bow wow," I said. I said it quietly
at first -- it felt strange. But she nodded and said, "Good..." and I
got into it, sniffing her ass and almost shouting, "Bow wow! Bow wow!
Bow wow!"

I was going to explode. I had never been so turned on. I needed to
touch my cock, if only to get it out of my pants before it made a
mess.

And then Linda stopped. She climbed off me, off the bed and stood
there, smiling.

I couldn't think. All I could say was, "Bow wow?"

She nodded. "That's the first show. Pick another pair."

Pick another pair. She was going to tease me like this all night long.
My cock was crying for relief -- I could feel it drizzling pre-cum in
my pants. I looked at all the panties surrounding me.

"Pick a good pair, one that'll make you hot," she said. It was so
unnecessary. But I took some time and found a trashy hot pink thong
made of silk -- I like thongs.

She smiled and left the room. She waited a little more than five
minutes -- I watched the clock on her nightstand -- and finally
returned in the pink panties, with another joint in her hand and a
glass of wine. She gave both to me and then reached into the
nightstand drawer. She pulled out a bottle of lubricant and dropped it
on the bed next to me.

"No coming," she said, and she started to dance at the foot of the
bed. I smoked the joint and watched her. Eventually I pulled my shirt
off, then undid my pants and pulled my cock out.

She danced all around the bed. She stopped for a little while and
leaned against the wall near me. Her right hand was planted in the hot
pink thong, and I could see her rubbing and squeezing her pussy. She
masturbated for me. I watched, rapt, trying not to touch my cock too
much. It was clear she wasn't just doing this to entertain me. For a
few minutes, it was all about her, fingering herself in front of a
live audience. She moaned loudly.

Then she looked up, smiling. My cock was purple. It hadn't been so
hard in years, it seemed like. I wanted to get my pants and underwear
off, but I was almost afraid to move, I was so close to coming.

She lifted her left leg. Her hand wasn't in her panties anymore. She
rubbed her high heel all over my face and chest while I lay there.

"It's hard not to come," she said. "You want to come. You want to
come, and you want to lick my high heel."

I did want to lick her high heel. I took her foot gently in both
hands, trying not to bump my agitated penis, and licked the white
leather from the heel to the toe and back. I licked all over her shoe.
She moved and pushed the heel to my lips, and I opened my mouth and
fellated it.

"Mmmmm..." She purred softly as if I were sucking a part of her body.
I sucked and licked her white high heel, trying to get as much it into
my mouth as I could, for close to ten minutes. I was still aching, but
relaxed, a little.

Finally she pulled the shoe from my face. "Pull your pants all the way
off," she said.

I did. She picked up the lubricant and popped open the cap. "Watch,"
she said. She held the bottle directly over my cock and let let the
clear, slippery liquid ooze out all over my hard-on and balls. She was
coating it. My cock got even more purple, and I was holding my breath.

"Now..." she whispered. She reached down. She picked up the white
thong she'd worn first and waved it in front of my face. I could see
it was wet from her. I could smell her hot pussy stench on it.

She waved the panties back and forth and then dropped them right onto
my hot, incredibly slippery penis. At the same time, she leaned
forward and pushed her tongue into my mouth.

It was too much. Kissing her -- her tongue was impossibly hot -- and
feeling the soft, slightly damp fabric drape itself over my gooey
cock. I started blowing my load, into and all over the little white
panties.

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more? drop me a line: caselower @ hotmail.com -- send naughty pics and
stories, too!

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