The Erotica of Al X : Paula's Panties - Episode 1
(MF Panty Mast)
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Standard Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material.
It is NOT suitable for minors.
If you are a minor, LEAVE NOW as it is illegal for you to be here.
If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material
in your community, LEAVE NOW.
If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, LEAVE NOW.
This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to
events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental.
These stories are pure fiction and do not promote or condone the
activities described herein, especially when it comes to unsafe
sexual practices or sex between adults and minors.
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Summary: Paula's always been repressed sexually. Then she meets a man with a panty fetish. On their first date she gives him more that a quick peek at her sexy new panties.
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"More Than a Quick Peek"
by Al X
We met at a speed-dating night. Although Paula wasn't the youngest or thinnest woman there, she had a cute face and a smiling, upbeat personality. But what I first noticed about her (even before the speed dating started) was her sweet round ass fitted into slacks so tight I easily made out the panty line. Her thong ran up the crack of her butt to a familiar triangle shape at the top. And when she leaned over the bar to grab a napkin, her blouse slid up and her pants dropped enough to reveal shiny red satin. I could have stared at that for hours, but she quickly reached behind and "fixed" it.
The speed dating took about an hour, broken into two sessions. Paula and I had our five minutes in the first session. It went well, I thought, and during the break we found ourselves at the bar. Making small talk with her came easy; we seemed to connect. When the host announced the second session, she turned and walked ahead of me, giving me another chance to glance at her round ass, and the outline of her thong against the fabric of her pants.
During the second session, we exchanged occasional smiles from across the room. At the end of the night, we finished our paperwork and ended up at the bar again. As we had another drink, I jokingly asked if she would "select" me on the speed dating forms.
Paula nodded. "But will YOU select ME? I think I exceed the weight limit for most guys." She was smiling, but I could tell she was partially serious. "Guys want supermodels, right?"
I set my drink down. "Guys want someone they can talk to and laugh with - and you're very easy to talk to. Guys want someone they find attractive - and you're VERY cute." (At this she blushed a bit, and nervously stirred the straw in her drink.) "And guys want someone they find sexy."
"Exactly! And what's sexy? Skinny little blondes, right?'
"You're sexy," I told her. Our eyes locked for a few seconds, then she looked away. "You have a great style, nice curves, and…"
She picked up on my hesitation "What? And what?"
"Well, it's… No, no, nothing."
"Go on, tell me."
Was it the drinks I had had or was I just so comfortable around her? In any event I fessed up: "I know shouldn't have been looking, but I noticed that you're wearing sexy underwear."
She sort flinched in surprise. She swiveled her hips and looked behind her. "You can see my underwear?"
I felt embarrassed, but it was too late to stop "No, no, just the panty line of your thong."
She ran her hand over her butt. "You must have been really EXAMINING my ass." When she looked back at me, she noticed my embarrassment. "Don't worry. It's actually kind of flattering."
"I just think that a woman who wears sexy lingerie is… well.. they must be a sexy person."
She thought about this for a moment, then finished her drink. "Yes, I admit, sexy underthings do make me feel … feminine? special? Maybe sexy is the right word." She set her glass on the table then broke into a sly grin. "You're a very naughty boy, aren't you?" She watched me shrug, then placed her hand on top of mine. "I like that. I do." *****
That first night we exchanged e-mails and phone numbers, then spent two weeks using technology to learn about each other. She had been twice married - a brief fling in her twenties, a long and apparently painful marriage in her thirties - but hadn't dated much since the last divorce.
Around 10PM the following Sunday we started instant messaging each other. As we were both drinking, our dialog turned to sex. With the freedom of communicating virtually, we opened up. I told her that panties really turned me on. "I already figured that out - duh!" she responded. "But I think it's cool. My ex used to complain about the money I was WASTING on underwear."
"Sexy panties are a waste of money - that's heresy!!!"
From some later comments I gathered that her ex had been a boring lover. "But maybe I was at fault, too," she confessed. "I've always been somewhat repressed sexually." Deep down she wanted to be freer, more open, and able to experience (and enjoy) more of the "naughty" side of sex.
Emboldened by the wine I was drinking, I typed: "Maybe I can help you with that. :)"
Her reply: "Maybe you can… I felt so comfortable around you that night. And getting to know you these last two weeks has made me trust you."
"I would never do anything to violate your trust." It sounded hokey, but I meant it.
I thought about steering our dialog into a steamier direction - would she get into online sex? - but instead allowed our conversation to drift to other, non-sexual subjects. We chatted for another hour and a half. Before we signed off, we agreed to meet the next day at a Starbucks located midway between our towns. She could only spare an hour, she wrote, since she had to visit her sisters afterward.
"Wear something naughty tomorrow," I teased before I signed off.
*****
At the coffee shop I read the NY Times and waited. Paula showed up in a light sweater and a knee-length skirt, with black fishnet stockings covering her thick calves. She looked older than I remembered and wore a tad too much makeup - mascara, blush, light lipstick - but when she smiled I remembered her cheerful smile that I had found so cute. As she kissed me on the cheek I breathed in her perfume. "It's so nice to see you again," I told her.
She ordered regular coffee (no fancy frappe for Paula - "Who needs all those calories!") and we sat in the cushy chairs in the back. As Dylan played on the speakers behind us, I couldn't help noticing that her skirt had ridden up over her knee. She looked so feminine, and exuded a sweet sexuality that I found enticing.
She talked about her workday - "It was horrible; I'm sooo glad it's over" - and her evening plans babysitting her sister's kids. "They're five and seven. And little balls of energy. "
After about a half hour of small talk, I thanked her for the 'naughty' stockings she wore. She ran her hand down over her stocking leg. "So, you find stockings sexy, too?"
I nodded, my eyes fixed on her legs.
"Are stockings as big a turn-on as panties?" Her fingers tapped on the arms of her chair, then fell into her lap. "Because my panties are the real naughty surprise! I bought them especially for you, today at lunch."
I was a bit shocked at her boldness. She had said she had always been shy and inhibited, and yet, here she was telling me about her underwear.
"They're frilly. And silky. And sheer. Do you find black panties sexy, Al?" "
I sipped my coffee and stared into her eyes. "I don't know," I answered coyly. "I would have to really SEE them to judge." Seeing that she was nervous, I added: "Even a quick peek would be enough."
Paula smiled. We were well out of earshot from the baristas up front, but still Paula spoke in a hushed tone. "You really want to see my sexy black panties? Here?"
"I would love to!"
We sat there for a moment, and I took in the sight of this pretty woman sitting opposite me. Her knees were separated only a few inches, but her hands in her lap kept the skirt pressed down, hiding any glimpse of her nether regions. On the floor, her feet were situated a few inches apart. Slowly I slid my right foot across the floor until it landed between her feet. As I moved my foot to the right, it pressed against hers and moved her leg just slightly. Her knees parted an inch and her skirt began to rise. Her hand was still in her lap, holding the skirt down. I raised my eyebrows as if to ask if she had any objections. She again checked behind her, then took a deep breath and lifted her hands from her lap.
I moved my foot another few inches. As her knees parted, the folds of her skirt rose and I caught a partial glimpse between her legs. Paula looked breathless.
My foot kept moving her leg to the left. Not only did offer no resistance, but she moved her other leg on her own, until her knees were spread almost two feet, giving me an ample view. Where her black thigh highs ended, I saw several inches of chubby white flesh, and in between was another patch of black - her new sheer panties.
I glanced up at her eyes, then looked back down between her legs.
She let her hand on her thigh and lifted the edge of the skirt. "I was hoping you'd get a chance to see them."
But then her legs closed, and I frowned. Paula watched me as if analyzing me. Then she leaned forward and reached for the newspaper on my table. I figured our little adventure was over, but then she purposely dropped the paper on the floor and asked: "Would you be a dear and pick that up?"
I leaned forward and reached down to the floor. As I did, my face was level with her knees. Paula leaned forward as well. She spoke in a throaty whisper, in a tone more confident and assured that before. "Do my panties turn you on, Al?"
"Yes."
"Would you like to see more of them?" When I answered that I would, she asked: "What would you do to see them again?"
I was staring at her stocking covered knees. "Anything."
"Anything at all?" Paula scoffed. "You would be my slave just to see my panties?" As if to tease me, she let her legs open a few inches. "You would be my panty slave?"
It was too late to turn back now. I merely nodded, too embarrassed to look up into her eyes. I heard her say "Very well" then watched as her legs once again spread open. I looked straight between her legs and could swear I saw a damp spot on her panties.
Paula ran her hand along her inner thigh, over her stockings and onto the bare flesh. Soon her hand was pressing against the panty. The bottom was black silk, but the top was sheer, with what looked like roses embroidered on the sides. "Would you like to touch them? To run your fingers along my thigh" - her fingers began to trail on her inner thigh "and down here?" Her forefinger followed a trail along the leg band of her underwear. "Would you like to tease me with your fingers?"
I was speechless, transfixed by her words and by the image.
"Would you like to kneel before me, Al, and place your face between my legs?" She placed her hands on her inner thighs, palms down, to gently spread her legs further apart. With her thumbs extending, she began to rub her crotch. "Do you wonder how my panties smell, now that I'm getting all hot and bothered?"
I just nodded, wanting nothing more than to bury my face in her silk panty, awed at the dominant tone she was taking.
"And would you like to lick them, Al?"
"Yes."
"Lick my what, Al? Tell me."
"I'd like to lick your pussy through them."
At this she extended her forefinger and let it run along the front of her sex. "Would you run your tongue along my panty - like this?" She moved her finger up and down, pressing the fabric until I could see the form of her crack. "Would you stick your tongue inside me, Al? Would you lick me until I started to cum?"
To avoid suspicion I sat back up, but remained leaning forward, close to Paula. I watched as she began rubbing herself with two fingers, over the panty, getting herself good and wet.
"I'd like that, Al. I'd love to feel you inside me." Her breathing was getting heavy; she was both nervous and turned on by this public experience. "Are you getting hard seeing me be so naughty?"
I nodded.
"Show me," she ordered.
Now it was my turn to check the store to ensure no one was paying us attention. The place was empty and we were alone in the back. I adjusted my khakis and pulled on them until Paula could clearly see the tent I was pitching. I was hoping she'd move the panty side so I could see her pussy, but she didn't.
She was now rubbing herself with three fingers. "Get yourself harder," she ordered.
I placed my palm over my lap and began to massage my erection. My body was hidden from the barista's by Paula's chair, but I had to keep my face looking calm and collected.
"I want you to cum for me," she told me as one of her fingers disappeared beneath the leg band of her panty. "Can you do that?"
As I used my thumb and forefinger to rub the head of my penis through my loose pants, I stared between her legs, watching her hand move up and down. She closed her legs, then, and her fingers were hidden from view, but obviously digging in and out of her pussy. Every now and then her eyes closed and she sucked in her mouth. She was close to having an orgasm, and I was getting closer too, turned on by her brazenly taking control of the situation.
"I can't wait until the day I get to see your cock, to taste it, to lick it. Would you like that, Al? To cum in my naughty mouth?" She licked her lips, then let her tongue hang out, as if she was showing me a glob of cum on it. Her hand moved faster between her legs. "Or would you rather cum on my panty? Would you like that better? To have me take my soft … satin panties and … wrap it around your cock until you … filled it with cum?" She must have finished her orgasm, because she withdrew her hand and placed it up to her face. "Would you like to smell my pussy, Al?" she asked as inhaled the scent of her fingers. "Or would you rather taste it?" Her finger rested on her lower lip. "Do you want to taste my cum?" As her mouth closed open, she slipped the finger deep inside and began to suck on it.
And that's when I felt my own orgasm, and soon a rush of cum exploded in my underwear.
I tried to catch my breath, then rested back in my seat, as Paula stared into my lap as my wet spot became visible. We just stared at each other for a few minutes, neither able to speak, neither able to stop smiling. Finally Paula spoke, her voice once again normal, without the demanding tone it had assumed only moments earlier. She seemed embarrassed, ashamed even. "I've never done anything like this before."
"Me neither," I admitted. I looked down at my lap. "I should clean up."
I left her to use the rest room, where I wiped the cum from my underwear. It took a minute before I could pee, but then I wiped myself again. As I washed my hands, I couldn't believe how lucky I was to find Paula, and began imaging all kinds of erotic future encounters. But as I left the rest room, I saw that the coffee shop's back room was empty. Paula was gone.
I sat down and drank up the last of my coffee. It must have been too much for her, I thought. She was probably embarrassed, and regretted what she had done in the heat of the moment. I even wondered if we would get together again. But then I noticed a bulge in my newspaper. Opening up the Arts section I saw it, a brand new black silk panty - frilly, silky, and sheer. Paula's panty was also moist and pungent. Had she left this as a souvenir or a promise of the future? I couldn't wait to get home to find out.
THE END
Written during March, 2007 / Revised March 27, 2007
The author welcomes your comments and suggestions for future stories.
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