Pantat Item Novels & Stories

Dante asked, his voice dropping even lower. "Sometimes. Think about your fingers. Your cock. Wish it was you instead of my hand." "Fuck. Spread your legs wider. Let me see." I did, utterly shameless now, too turned on to care about dignity or restraint. Dante moved closer, his eyes locked on my hole. "Perfect," he murmured. "So fucking perfect. Keep touching yourself. Don't stop." He finally stripped off his pants and boxer briefs, his cock springing free, thick and hard and already leaking.

His touch would be enough for me to melt in his arm. He opened his shirt and threw them on the floor. My gaze followed the white piece that gracefully joined his coat. When my eyes returned to him, he was working on his pants. The button was undone, waiting for us to pull them down. I was able to see his Calvin Klein boxer beneath his pale blue pants.

Panty Girl to the rescue! By the time the lunch break rolls around, I've drawn Panty Girl in a number of ridiculous situations. In one she's saving a cat from a tree. In another she's using a giant pair of panties as a parachute after jumping out of a burning plane. In still another she's cutting off Ford Grand's balls with a chainsaw. I'm a little creatively exhausted. Omar and Christian seem just as ready for a break. They turn around so quickly that Christian runs right into me. The tablet falls from my hands to the tiled floor.

He took it and looked at it carefully. “Nice panty huh, power pop girls... pfft why is there a hole?” I just bowed in embarrassment. It’s embarrassing that“Shut up.” He said seriously. He power-pophe towel that covered my body. I didn’t cover my body even though I’m shy of him.too big. I heard him laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you panties. What design do you still want? Those pikachu, doraemon or maybe--“ “T-That’s enough, just dress me up to finish.” He slowly put my panties on me. “H-Hey, don’t stare at that!”

Matching crotchless panties that left nothing to the imagination Sheer black thigh-high stockings with garter belts, and a tiny pleated skirt so short it would barely cover my ass. The fabric was luxurious, the kind that would cling to every inch of my skin. Next to it, nestled in more wrapping: a huge realistic dildo. Thick, veiny, at least eight inches, with a heavy base and balls. It looked expensive too.. A couple of other toys and a small bottle of lube rolled out beside it. My mouth went dry. My cock jumped hard in my sweatpants. This was insane.

Everything about him screamed perfect. Then he reached for the waist band of his pants and that was when my breath caught. He pulled his pants down for good eight inches and his cock still had not bounced out. He paused. Leaving the pants just halfway. His long and hard cock stretched under his pants like it was calling for me. He looked at me with a smirk on his face. “You like what you see?”

Clothes are flung everywhere, and there's a pyramid of beer cans on the table. "This... is not going to work," I mutter, stepping into the living room. "What?" he shrugs. A bright pair of blue panties catches my eye. Using my pointer finger and thumb like tweezers, I tug them out of the gray chair and hold them up. They're so small I couldn't fit one leg in them. Is that the kind of girls Max is into?

Ginger stated. The outfit they gave me was ridiculous. A baby pink lacy bustier top, ruffled bottom panties, and a micro crinoline mini skirt, so short you can see the ruffles of my panties. I’m at least thankful for the panties covering my butt, since I have the bite mark that Zander left. Antonio would totally freak out if he saw it. I also have the standard little girl knee-high socks and platform Mary Janes. I’m starting to get the feeling that Antonio has a little girl fetish, which is just ick.

My eyelids fluttering, I lean back further against his chest, supporting myself against his torso while he plucks and teases my nipples. “Your pants, next,” he says, his voice even lower than before. I start to reach my hands up to my waist, but he moves quicker, releasing my breasts to grab the waistband of my hands. He starts to lower it. When the pants are at my thighs, he leans back a moment, as if finally realizing I’m also not wearing any panties. The panties I wore in the coliseum were likely destroyed, and even after being given scrubs, I was never given any replacement underwear.

I tried hard not to make a sound. My trouser was unbuttoned next. He gently pulled my zipper down. Then he dragged it off along with my underwear in one slow drag, his eyes on mine the whole time. For the first time in a really long time, I was damn proud of my choice of panties. Unlike my boring thongs, today I wore a sultry pink net pant that barely covered my entire butt cheek.