My Wet Panties Novels & Stories

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.

smooth guy. We all got dressed. Tanner left the room first. As I came out, Mr. K. came out of his room wearing these sexy loose pants and a linen shirt. He held up a finger. I paused, letting Tanner go down the stairs. Mr. K reached out and dropped my wet panties into my hand. I reacted without thinking and pressed them to my face. They smelled strong. My orgasm and the smell of cum. I looked at Mr. K with wide eyes. He just smiled and walked down the stairs. I went back and put those panties in the bottom of my backpack. I may never wash them.

The delicate pink lace panties she wore were damp and he slipped his finger under them to feel the evidence of her need. “Fuck,” he growled. “You’re so wet, Blue.” She wriggled and removed the loose blouse that she wore, throwing it to the floor. His eyes wandered up from her damp panties, his finger still stroking her wetness, and took in the hollow of her stomach, the rise of her rib cage, and the plump pillows of her breasts. They were full and lush, overflowing from the demi-cup bra she wore and her nipples were hard nubs straining against the pink lace.

Counter tease, bed tangle hours of desperate fucks, tension's fire consuming. By dawn, spent and cum-wrapped, he whispered against my neck, "Anytime now, Lila. Crush unlocked."

That’s when I saw something. Her panties—black lace, simple but sexy—crumpled on the floor near the foot of the bed, half-hidden under the edge of the mattress. She must’ve kicked them off during one of the frantic moments and forgotten them completely when she dressed in a hurry. I bent down slowly and picked them up between two fingers. They were still barely warm. Still damp in the crotch from how soaked she’d been all night. The fabric was soft, worn in places, carrying the faint trace of her laundry detergent mixed with her arousal and the salty musk of my cum that had leaked out of her earlier.

"I won't be able to look at his mouth without blushing." I wave her off. "You never blush." She laughs. "Well, what do you want me to say-when I look at his mouth my panties go wet." The girl has no filter. "You're incorrigible. No wet panties with my man. You have your own to drool over." "Panty drool is a good word for it." "Come on." I take her hand. "Someone needs to stuff a sock in your mouth."

Amber’s nipples were almost as hard as my cock. The short skirt was the next to go. She thrust out her chest as she reached behind her waist to release the skirt’s button and zipper. She was then swaying in front of me in nothing but the smallest of silky pink bikini panties. The pink panties wonderfully accented her beautiful light brown skin. The crotch of her panties was already soaked with her juices. A few brief strokes to her pubic mound with her flattened hand, and the panties were quickly cast aside.

His voice was cold as ice and when he picked up my pantie from the floor, I froze, my face flushing red with embarrassment. "Give back that! What right do you have to touch my underwear!" I yelled, trying to reach for it but the motherfucker was taller. "Hmm….." he hummed, sliding his fingertips along the soaked fabric, "G-string? our dear nerdy wears sexy panties too? Hmm, interesting. But why is it so wet, who made you cum this much?" I twisted my face in pure disgust when he brought it close to his nose and took a long sniff. "Wow….such depraved scent…."

~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.

I was whimpering and grinding my soaked panties against nothing, losing my mind with pleasure. Mark’s hand slid down and rubbed my silk-covered pussy. “Fuck, she’s absolutely drenched,” he told Angie. “Her cunt is leaking all over these panties.” Angie stood up beside the bed, right in front of my face, and slowly peeled her black panties down. Her hairy pussy was right there — dark curls glistening with her arousal, plump lips puffy and parting, her swollen clit peeking out. The musky scent of her hit me and I licked my lips involuntarily.