Creamy Used Panties の小説・ストーリー

I get the feeling she's rushing me to get this over with and I understand her anxiety but I won't rush. She comes up for air, baring her long, slender neck. I trail my lips down her chin, licking and sucking her pulse point until she starts rubbing herself against my erection. "Dante" she whimpers, clinging to my shoulders. I slip my hand inside her slit only to be met by underwear. "What is this?" She giggles "Built-in panties" "Since when did they start making those?" "You didn't think I'd walk around butt naked. Did you?" "A man can only hope," I say palming her pussy through the material "Fuck, baby, you're soaking wet"

I folded it quickly, almost angrily, and tossed it next my jeans. My panties matched the same wine-red color with a thin band of lace at the hips and a little bow at the front that I suddenly realized looked ridiculous in this context. It's like I had shown up to war carrying a ribbon. I ripped them off as heat crawled up my neck, tossing them next to my bra.

She was always complaining, slowing everyone down. Jack, on the other hand, seemed to have endless patience and indulgence for her. "Alright. Let's see what's so heavy." He stopped the group, knelt, and opened Dakota's backpack himself. In front of everyone, she carefully pulled out her precious belongings, as if presenting a prized collection. There was a full set of luxury travel-sized skincare, a nearly unused oversized power bank, chips in every flavor, jelly, sour belts… and a heavy jar of peanut butter.

”I brought you some undergarments meant to turn our Alpha to a puddle of mush at your feet. She pulls out a bra and panty set. It’s black lace, the panties are thong, which I’ve never worn and the bra is so lacey that I know it won’t last longer than the one night. Liam will rip that off me in no time. “Thank you Tina. That was very thoughtful.”

I'd always examined them with an eye to my luxurious comfort, but now I considered how easily his fingers would slide around the fabric as it covered my body and shivered. One nightie called out to me. When I held it up, it stopped just above my knees. The lace was delicate and soft, but the satin fabric was like liquid across my arm. I found pale, rose-colored panties in the same soft material and on impulse I got them all. My department store credit card had a high interest rate, but I couldn't resist.

she muttered fondly under her breath, a mix of affection and frustration warming her chest. She quickly pulled on a tight red stretch dress that clung to every mouthwatering curve like a second skin. The Lycra hugged her massive double-D tits perfectly, and she decided to go braless, knowing her tailored black jacket—long enough to reach mid-thigh—would provide just enough coverage while still letting her feel deliciously naughty. A regular pair of cotton panties with a fresh pantyliner went on next, just in case Barry’s cum tried to leak out later and betray her.

I crossed the room in three shaky steps and snatched my panties from her fingers. They were warm. Soaked. The crotch was heavy with her cum, the lace sticking to itself in glossy strands. The scent hit me—sweet, feminine, with that sharp edge of pure lust—and my pussy clenched so hard I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning.

He came around the front of the car, his broad shoulders filling the space between us, and held out his hand. Reluctantly, I pulled the bag from under my jacket and handed it over, watching as he dumped the contents onto the hood. The black lace panties spilled out first, delicate and sheer, the kind that would cling to my ass cheeks and show every curve. Then the bra, cups edged with scalloped trim, meant to push my tits up high and inviting. “These are slutty as hell,” he said, picking up the panties and holding them up to the light, the fabric translucent enough to hint at what they’d barely cover.

I muttered a quiet thank you and returned to the bathroom. When I opened the bag, my jaw dropped. Inside was not only a full carton of pads, but also a dozen pairs of expensive panties, all silk, all delicate and embroidered like they belonged in a boutique. My hands shook as I touched them. “God,” I whispered again, tears burning my eyes. “Who is this man? And why is he being this caring to me?” I slipped into one of the panties, stunned at how perfectly it fit. How did he even know my size?