My Panties Are So Wet Novels & Stories

My pussy was throbbing so hard it almost hurt. With trembling fingers I tugged the hem of my sundress up to my waist. I hooked my panties to the side, exposing my bare, dripping cunt to the cool air of the booth. Two fingers slid easily through my slick folds. “I’m… I’m soaked, Father,” I gasped, circling my clit slowly. “My pussy is dripping down my thighs. I’m so wet it’s embarrassing.” A low, masculine sound came from the other side—almost a growl.

VIVIAN "You're drenched. Fuck, Vivian, your panties are ruined." "I've been wet for you all day. Every day. For three years." He rips my panties off — literally tears them from my body, the fabric giving way with a sharp sound. Cool air kisses my bare pussy, and I shiver with anticipation. Then his fingers are there, sliding through my folds, spreading my wetness. "So fucking wet," he murmurs. "So ready for me. Have you been touching yourself, thinking about this? Fingering this pretty pussy and imagining it was my cock?"

My panties were the only thing in the way. I wish I could take off my sweatshirt, but he ordered me to lay down. And I don't want to ruin the moment. Call me crazy, but this means a lot to me. His eyes rested on my panties. It is white. I can tell he can see my wetness. God, that's embarrassing. His eyes moved to me. I stared at him nervously. "Wet already," he said. I can't help it. "Perhaps I was touching you in your head, wasn't I?" he asked.

She is wet, soaking, and dripping wet, her panties soaked through with her wetness. "Wet," I murmur. "So fucking wet," I add as I move to stroke her pussy through her panties. "Were you this wet for me yesterday?" She nods rapidly. I move her panties to the side and move my middle finger down her pussy, lightly brushing her clit and her labia. I gather her wetness and spread it wide. "Please.." she moans her body writhing with need.

I leaned back harder against the locked door, my legs feeling weak and shaky. My fingers travelled straight down to my pussy. I didn’t even think about it. I quickly unbuttoned my jeans and yanked the zipper down. My hand pushed inside my panties, sliding over my smooth skin until I reached my soaked folds. I was dripping wet. My panties were completely ruined, sticky and warm. My clit was swollen, sensitive, and begging for touch. The second my fingers brushed it, a sharp jolt of pleasure shot through me.

I could barely control my moans, which had turned into high-pitched, pathetic whimpers of need. Below the waist, I was a mess. I could feel my panties soaking quickly, the slick of my heat coating the fabric and making it cling to my skin in a way that was both uncomfortable and incredibly arousing. I was so turned on it was crazy; the scent of my own readiness was filling the room, driving us both toward the edge.

I kicked them off, leaving me in just my thin, soaked camisole and a pair of simple cotton panties. He let out a low whistle. “Look at that. Already soaked for me. You really are a little slut, aren’t you?” He reached out and hooked a finger into the crotch of my panties, pulling the fabric aside. The cool air hit my bare, wet folds, and I couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped my lips. He ran a single finger slowly up my slit, gathering my wetness on his fingertip. He brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"...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?"

~Bethany~ I need to call Jobalt to update him on where to meet him for the Foxgove shrub. That will take my mind off how fucking wet I am. I shut the room door behind me and blow out a breath, covering my face. But my panties are damp with neediness. It’s ridiculous that just the thought of them with me like that incites this kind of reaction from my body. It makes me squirm, huffing at the arousal that I already know I can’t get rid of by touching myself because that never fucking gets me there.

My panties are wet, sticking to my skin like a second layer of shame. "Kael..." It's not even a refusal. Just his name, stretched into a moan that sounds like surrender. He doesn't answer. Not with words. His fingers slide under the hem of my skirt, moving up along my thigh with sadistic slowness. My breathing becomes ragged, each inhale a struggle. When his fingers finally brush against the soaked fabric of my panties, I hold back a moan, my nails digging into the palms of my hands. "You're wet."