I Wet My Panties Novels & Stories

Certainly, I wasn't under the drugs anymore. But why was Dane's presence having this much control over my body? It was embarrassing. My breath came in quick spurts as I pulled down my trousers. My fingers fumbling as I shifted my panties to the side. Fucking hell! My entire panties had been soaked. Wet, warm and slimy. My fingers grazed through the wetness. I moaned silently, biting my bottom lip. Fragments of images flashed through my mind. Images of Dane's hands rubbing my clit.

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 walked away fast enough to get into the restroom. I’m very glad I chose to wear a bra despite having firm perky breasts because I could tell from the way my body was reacting that my nipples are very very hard. I slipped a finger into my dress and I wasn’t wrong. “Shit.” There was no point confirming the wetness of my panties, I was already soaked and I care isn’t taken, I might have a pool dripping from my cunt. Even though I try to not react to him; it’s impossible to not. I always feel my heartbeat in the most intimate place ever.

I slid down to the floor for a second, thighs clenched tight. I was dripping. Literally dripping. My panties were soaked through, clinging sticky to my skin. I could feel it every time I moved. Wetness coating my inner thighs. I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up shaky and yanked my sundress over my head, tossing it aside. My bra came next. Then my panties. I peeled them off slow, watching the wet spot in the crotch. God. I was a mess. For him. Because of him. I crawled onto my bed naked, the cool sheets making me shiver. But I was burning up inside. My pussy throbbed so bad it hurt. Aching. Needing.

My cock twitches, jerking up. “Fucking hell,” I groan, jaw ticking with barely restrained control. I shouldn’t do this. Even as I think that, I fist the panties. A harsh exhale leaves my lungs. It’s soft. Too soft, like butter. It teases my skin, stirring my nerve endings to life. And just like that, everything rushes back and all I see is Wren. All I feel is her soft fleshy skin as I dragged the panties down her legs, the pool of wetness between her thighs...

“Is this who you are? Someone who breaks her promises?” I shake my head, feverish, panting. “Good girl. Fingers,” he orders. “Now.” I shove my hand down my underwear with no grace. “Oh my God.” It’s just . . . so much. Way too much. “Why am I so wet?” “It’s normal,” he says. “You’re going to need it.” “F- for what?” He exhales against my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Just touch yourself.”