Drenched Panties Novels & Stories

The silky fabric whispered up my thighs as Dante’s hand moved with purpose, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, so close to where I was aching and soaked for them. Dante’s breath was hot against my ear. “Let’s see how wet our girl is already,” he murmured, his voice rough with hunger. His fingers finally reached my panties, pressing firmly against the drenched lace. He rubbed slow, firm circles over my pussy through the thin fabric, feeling exactly how soaked I was. “Fuck, Dad… she’s absolutely dripping. Her panties are soaked through. This greedy little cunt is weeping for us.” Victor groaned into my mouth, sucking on my tongue before breaking the kiss just enough

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."

And it dangled at the entrance of her pussy, aching to push through her panties. Her panties were still on her waist. I reached for the waistline and pulled it down, still staring into her eyes to watch her expressions, and I snatched the little piece of fabric off her waist. She gasped. “Don’t worry,” I cooed, tasting her panties after inhaling her sweet scent. “I’ll be gentle.” I threw her panties down to the floor. My hands reached for the shower and turned it on, the cold water rushing in full force as droplets splattered all over the floor and on my body.

Heat crawls up my neck and cheeks, and I stare wide-eyed in both shock and desire. “You were supposed to take a peek,” I whisper. “You know I never do what you expect.” He shrugs, raising my panties to the light. “Green. Lace.” He fists them, and his lips part. “Fuck baby, these are damp.” He leans in further, voice dropping lower. “You’re soaked, aren’t you? Nearly dripping.” Without my panties, I am definitely dripping. Cool air teases my thighs and core. I cross my legs, shuddering at the tingle that runs up my spine.

I get up and take her into the bathroom and lock us in. "Let me see those flooded panties ",I yank my sweats down my cock hard and leaking for her. She whimpers and touches me getting more cum. Fuck I'm going to nut if she keeps this up. I gently pull her pants down and true to her word she is flooded. Her panties are soaked. "Hunter please",she begs. I kneel and tear the panties off before I lick her cream a growl in my throat at the taste. She taste sweet.

He let out a deep breath. “Look at you,” he said, almost to himself. “ You're so fucking wet already. Dripping for me.” I shifted, feeling so embarrassed and somehow more aroused because of it. He held out two fingers and fondled the lace of my panties.“May I?” “Yes.” He pulled the panties down my legs, slow enough that I could feel the fabric move against my skin. When they hit my ankles, I just kicked them off, I felt so exposed that I had to close my thighs. Dante brought his hands up, he spread my legs gently and touched my pussy with his thumbs, lightly.

Cool air hit my heated skin, making me shiver. “Let’s see.” His fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties, and I felt Brandon’s grip shift on my shoulders, holding me more firmly as Jackson tugged them down. “Please Don’t—” The word came out weak. My panties slid down my thighs, stopping at my knees and Jackson spread my ass cheeks, wide enough to reveal my drenched folds. “Holy fuck, she’s soaking wet,” Brandon said, his voice thick with obvious lust. “I think she likes it.”

My heart hammered, my breath coming in shallow pants as anticipation coiled tight in my belly. "Good girl." His fingers hooked into the waistband of my leggings, and he wrenched them down in one brutal tug, the fabric tearing slightly at the seams. He tossed them aside like garbage, his eyes dropping to the soaked patch on my lacy panties. The damp spot was obscene, darkening the black silk, my arousal glistening through it.

I quickly went over to where those bastards had dumped my clothes in a pile and picked my cardigan up off the top. Underneath, in a crumpled heap lay my borrowed shirt, bra, panties and jeans. This dress was far too tight for underwear. As I reached down and picked up my panties I realised they were stuck to all the other clothing. Sighing I looked more closely only to drop the whole pile in horror. Those fucking skanky bastards! I was livid! But so fucking tired, as tears welled up in my eyes again. They’d fucking jacked off all over my clothes and left them here for me to find!

I just glared at them and they finally ran away. "She has a period? Sir you might just want to buy her period panties, I guess?" "What?" "Period panties are washable, reusable underwear designed to replace pads and tampons, or be worn with tampons and cups for extra protection." "I'll buy them all." After buying those shits, I went straight to my private room and saw retard standing on one corner while her hands are on her tummy. “What the hell are you doing there?” I asked her. She looked at me like a poor little puppy. “I’m afraid I might stain your couch. I already stained your coat.”