I Wet My Panties Novels & Stories

The position left her waist directly at my eye level, and with her spread legs and how non-existent her skirt was, I could see a dark, wet spot right in the center of her crimson panties. "It was just like this," she said, as she brought two of her fingers between her legs and began rubbing that spot. Zoey's eyes closed as her breathing picked up, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from her fingers and how the wet patch was slowly getting larger. "What were you doing as you imagined this?" she asked, eyes still closed.

"...you're getting with women, you don't need to..." I reached her panties, feeling her open her legs. "I am..." My cock was already hard, spilling out of her, while she, wetting the fabric of her panties. "...but..." "Don't forget that mine..." I stuck my fingers in her opening, seeing her gasp. "Ah! Damn it! Why are you doing this?"

I whimpered softly, rolling onto my side and pressing my thighs together tightly, trying to ease the frustration. It only made it worse. “Tristan…” I whispered into the pillow, voice already breaking. My nipples were hard and aching against the thin fabric of my crop top. I could feel how wet my panties were- completely drenched, the slickness coating my inner thighs. I groaned in frustration, hips twitching involuntarily as I rubbed my legs together again, seeking any kind of relief. But…..Nothing helped. I couldn’t take it anymore. With shaky hands, I reached down and hooked my fingers into the waistband of my soaked panties. I peeled them off slowly, the cool air hitting my dripping pussy

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."

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?”

Without a single thought, I staggered over to the WC, dropped the cover, and sat on top of it. My legs parted before I could even imagine it. I was too horny, too wet to even process anything. I moved my hand down to my panties. God! I was dripping! I was a soaking mess of juice. My hand moved faster, slipping my soaked panties to the side. My finger moved again, and the moment they found my clit, my back arched and my eyes rolled backward. “Fuck….” I cried ecstatically, rubbing my fingers against my clit while the wetness was streaming down like a river.

I whispered under my breath, grabbing the counter for balance. I wiped myself with shaking hands, but it was useless. I was still wet. Still leaking. My inner thighs were glossy. My scent filled the room like heat. Damon. His name pulsed through my chest again. I bent quickly, grabbed the ruined panties from the floor, stared at the soaked fabric for a second, then shoved them into the trash like they were evidence. Another knock. Louder this time. “You dead in there or just drowning in your own cum?” one of the girls laughed from outside.

Her legs were shaky as she turned off the water and dried her face. She dropped her charcoal-gray trousers and pink panties and sat on the toilet. A glance told her that those panties were drenched. Her hand reached out to grab the rag from the edge of the sink, pulling it once again to her face. Her other hand snaked down between her thighs to spread the petals of her soaking wet little pussy. She shook as soon as the tip of her finger touched her sensitive little button.

Wetness slick and heavy, soaking through my panties. Without turning to face him, I let my back remain against his chest. I wanted to feel him this way; hot, broad, looming over me. My hand slid down, trembling with urgency, until one finger hooked the thin band of my panties. I dragged it aside, gasping softly as the cool air met my swollen heat. I could feel how wet I was, dripping, shameless. My fingers brushed against myself, and I whimpered at my own touch. But I didn’t linger.

I am missing Adams. "Ah ..." I opened my mouth to release my weak voice. I lifted my legs even more and I could feel my wet panties. I looked at it and when I saw how sticky my panties were, my nipple also hardened so I immediately took off my bra. I took the round little vibrator out of the drawer then tucked it into my panties.