I Wet My Panties Novels & Stories

just a fantasy, not anything either of us would ever actually do for real. I rolled myself back over again, sat up, pulled my hand out of my panties. My eyes went wide, seeing the white, creIris mess I'd made. And I hadn't even been fingering myself, only playing with my clitty and lips! I quickly sucked my fingers clean, not daring to look inside my panties at the mess I must have made, refastening my jeans. I closed my laptop, stood and set it onto my desk, looking into my mirror as I rubbed the tears from my eyes and cheeks, grabbing a T-shirt from my hamper to dab away the sweat from my skin. I strode to my door...

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.

She soon showed me a bathroom attached to a room. I rushed inside and closed the door behind me, the lock clicking with a sense of finality. I immediately grabbed the waistband of my jeans and pulled them down to my knees. My panties were soaked, and my breathing was heavy, ragged. A wave of confusion and self-loathing washed over me. Why was I craving and getting wet for someone I hated? Someone I was supposed to hate?

“Yeah? You liked that? You want my hand there again? Sliding up under your shirt… brushing over your bra?” “Yes,” I breathed, my free hand sliding slowly down my stomach. “I’ve been wet ever since the party. I can’t stop thinking about it.” “Touch yourself for me,” he said, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “Tell me how wet you are right now.” I slipped my hand into my panties, gasping softly the moment my fingers brushed over my swollen, sensitive clit. “I’m… really wet. My panties are soaked. My clit is throbbing.”

"I bet your pussy is already wet for me. Tell me the truth." I look around. Some colleagues are talking nearby. A few men glance at my chest when they think I am not looking. I feel naughty and excited. "Yes," I admit. "I am wet." Ryan smiles and slides his hand under the back of my dress. His fingers touch my bare ass. I did not wear panties either. He asked me not to. His middle finger finds my wet slit from behind and rubs it gently. I almost drop my glass. Pleasure shoots through me.

The nerve of Harry! “No, we can’t. I have a man. We can’t, Harry.” I was on the verge of tears. Without warning, Harry yanked my panties down. “Do you have any idea how soaked you are?” Shame crept onto my cheeks. Before I knew, Harry spread my cheeks and ploughed into me.

He let out a deep, loud groan as he looked between my legs, his grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. My own hands moved slowly downward. If he was not going to put out this fire burning inside me, I would do it myself. If he wanted a show, I would give him one he would not forget. His eyes widened when he understood what I was about to do. I paused just above my core, watching him. “Is this what you want? Is this what you want to see? How wet I am? God, Raymond, I am so fucking wet.” I whispered the words, finding a courage I did not know I had.

My panties were already sticking to me. I tried to focus. I really did. But every time I crossed my legs I remembered how they held me open on the table. How they took turns. How they filled me until cum was dripping down my thighs and onto the expensive carpet. My panties were already soaked by eleven. I could feel the wet spot spreading. I kept pressing my thighs together under the desk, trying to get some relief, but it only made it worse. By lunch I couldn’t take it anymore.

Now, I spread the liquid myself, covering every inch of my body. The warmth had spread over my panties. Flooding them. Drawing them. I put two fingers underneath the cotton, and imagined Max doing the same thing with Ellie. Another cold spike rolled over my skin. Banishing every chance for a second thought, I pulled my panties aside, stuck two fingers in mouth and drew them out wet and slippery. “Why… can't we just fuck?” I said, more to myself than to the watching followers. I slid over my clit, tracing my opening, then—

With that goal in mind, I slip my hand between us and brush a knuckle over her panties. “Is all this for me?” The material covering her pussy is soaking wet.