Creamy Wet Panties Novels & Stories

He leans up on his elbows so my arm fits between us. He holds my gaze as I slide my free hand down my half-bare body to the waistband of my skirt, then under and into my panties. What I find there almost doesn’t make sense for a moment. How, when I am nothing but fire, am I producing so much wetness? Because I’m soaked, all the way through my panties and probably onto my skirt. Maybe onto Dante’s nice couch, so he can never forget I was here. His eyes burn. “Well?”

He kept groaning my name as he emptied himself, hips jerking. I was panting, trembling, my own orgasm hovering just out of reach from nothing but the sight and smell of it. When he finally sagged back, cock still twitching, he looked at me with that dangerous, satisfied smirk. “Look at the mess you made, little sis. Now take those wet panties off and put these cum-soaked ones on. Right here where I can watch.” My hands shook as I reached under my sundress, hooking my fingers into my drenched cotton panties. I was about to slide them down when—

I fell hard into a pile of sharp gravel. The impact lacerated my palm, blood oozing from my bone-baring cut. I fixed my gaze on Jack Campton, yet all I saw in his eyes was annoyance. "Oh, no, Willow! You're bleeding! You're not going to get tetanus or something, are you?" Dakota Sweeney covered her mouth in exaggerated shock, but her eyes gleamed with poorly hidden delight. "What a pity. I just used the alcohol pads to wipe the mud off my shoes."

Hair in a low, messy knot, strands escaping like she’s already been fucked. She doesn’t wear panties. She promised. She writes “Crashaw – The Weeper” on the board. Bends just enough to write low. The skirt rides up in back. Jesus Christ. A flash of bare skin. The lower curve of her ass. The shadowed split between her cheeks. No fabric. Nothing. Just her. My cock floods instantly, thickening so fast it aches. Pre-cum beads and soaks straight through the sweatpants in seconds, a dark circle spreading at the tip.

The impact nearly knocked the wind out of me. His hands gripped my waist, yanking my skirt up around my hips again. He ripped the panties open, the fabric tearing at the sides. The cool air hit my bare skin, but instead of excitement, it left me feeling exposed and dirty. Chris spat into his fingers and slid two inside my wet pussy, thrusting them hard and fast. “Auuhhh… mhmmmm… ohhh…” I moaned, my body betraying me despite my shame. He leaned closer, his voice harsh. “You like that, don’t you, dirty whore?”

Note: Thank you Heather Alderman for your comment. Thank you everyone for your support. I really appreciate you❤️ Chapter 52 Amber Whyte. Three weeks later. (Party) The moment I sighted the special lace panties the triplets had instructed me to wear, carnal desires shot through my dry hole. It pumped juices, roaring back to life. I felt warm. Wet. Ready. My pussy started to hum. To hiss. To pulse. I snatched the panties from my dresser, scrutinizing it.

“You’ve made a fucking mess of your panties, baby girl, soaking them through with your cum. I think we’d better take these off.” My fingers push under the edge of her panties, brushing against her soft, silken pussy before hooking into the soaked panties. I yank them down, making her gasp as I half rip them off in my zeal, letting them drop to tangle at her knees. She whimpers, panting as she stays just like that bent over, ass up, and legs spread for the both of us with her messy panties caught at her knees.

Right now. He spun her around and grabbed the strappy edges of her crotchless panties. The moisture pooling inside her and drenching the delicate fabric gushed out, spreading wetness down the insides of her thighs. “You’re so juicy, like a sweet ripe peach,” he praised as he bent her over the table.

Crystal breathed then, "Suck me... please..." He grinned, sucking her harder. Crystal groaned loudly then, squirming. Thrusting a hand under the waistband of her pants, he found his way into the thin panties she was wearing and into her pussy. She was very wet and hot, which made him chuckle. Raising his head, he pulled out his hand, and made quick work of her sneakers and pants. Her panties were a teal silk thong, and soaking wet by now.

Shamefully, eagerly wet. His fingers traced the edge of my panties, feeling how soaked the fabric had become. A quiet shiver ran through me as he pressed the flat of his hand firmly against my center, rubbing slow circles over my swollen clit through the drenched lace. The pressure was perfect, teasing yet deliberate. On the screen, a woman screamed as something monstrous chased her through a pitch-black forest, but I could barely register it. All my mind was focused on was Lucas’s hand working between my spread thighs in the dark.