Panties Stories Novels & Stories

I felt my dress lifted to my waist, and my bare skin tingled after the exposure. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I was in my pink panties. The mummy kind. Oh, fuck it! I picked the wrong day to wear the wrong panties. Guys like Hayden wouldn’t like this. Obviously, they wouldn’t. It’s just that the coverage panties were more comfortable than the G-strings, which Jake and I call catapults. How was I supposed to know I’d bump into Hayden at the restaurant? Was he staring? Did my underwear turn him off?

So, I ended dressed in something between slut and lady. My breasts were pushed up in a tight corset. And a maxi skirt covered my legs, but- the freakin corset was almost as short as a bra and left my back bare, plus the cut on the left side of the skirt was impossibly high, completely showing my leg almost reaching the fucking underwear, but it was a huge exaggeration to name 3 straps underwear! At least the skirt was waist-high, and my long hair fell in loose curls, covering me a bit.

My thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking friction. I read on, my breath quickening. He pushed her against the shelves, hiking up her skirt and plunging his fingers inside her. The descriptions were vivid – her moans echoing in the empty library, the slick sounds of her arousal. My own hand wandered down, absentmindedly at first, tracing the seam of my yoga pants. I wasn’t wearing panties; I’d skipped them this morning, feeling daring. The fabric was already damp. I bit my lip, debating. Should I? The house was empty. Why not?

“I did nothing with your husbands. It is all a misunderstanding.” “Shut up!” A woman said and moved close to her. “Let us see what has had them salivating all these days.” Saying that, she ripped the buttons on Yasmine's shirt, baring her breasts for them to see while another woman pulled up her skirt. “Look at that!” the woman pointed out. “She's not even putting on underwear.” “Whore!” One of them slapped her hard on her pussy and Yasmine felt herself quiver. “Wet already? How shameful.”

She was always complaining, slowing everyone down. Jack, on the other hand, seemed to have endless patience and indulgence for her. "Alright. Let's see what's so heavy." He stopped the group, knelt, and opened Dakota's backpack himself. In front of everyone, she carefully pulled out her precious belongings, as if presenting a prized collection. There was a full set of luxury travel-sized skincare, a nearly unused oversized power bank, chips in every flavor, jelly, sour belts… and a heavy jar of peanut butter.

My eyes widen and she continues, “I don't think there's ever a night he goes to bed without a woman or two. And I've never seen him bring the same woman home twice.” I cringe at the revelation. But Nancy doesn't seem to notice. “You know what we call him around here?” She looks around and whispers to me, “The panty ripper.” “What?” “That's right! I think he has a kink for ripping panties off his conquests. He's quite notorious for it. It's like his signature move or something. I've lost count of the number of torn panties I've had to throw away.”

She paused for a moment reaching into her panties Jenna pushed the gusset of her panties downward and away from her pussy before putting her thumbs back in the tiny waistband of her panties and pushing them down. Once gravity gripped the panties and pulled them the rest of the way down Jenna's legs she stood up straight and stepped out of one leg hole while hooking her toe in the other leg hole and lifting the panties up so she didn't have to bend over. Jenna had practiced this move on many guys and knew with her one knee bent off to the side, her lovely bald pussy would open slightly giving Tony a better view of her. With her panties in her hand Jenna smiled at Tony and saw that his eyes we

Panties really did not help much at all around these two because they knew how to coax my pussy into drenching them regardless. “I do believe that you promised something, love,” Xander said as his lips grazed mine without actually kissing me. He was such a tease. I stood up and pulled my shirt over my head before dropping my shorts. They both watched every movement I made as if waiting for their chance to pounce. My bra fell to the floor, and I slid my panties off. I stood bare before them with a coat of arousal gracing my thighs. It was very easy to see how badly I needed them.

[Maya’s POV] CONSENT IS LOUD. NO MEANS STOP. EVERYTHING ELSE IS YES UNTIL IT ISN’T. I walked in wearing nothing but black lace panties, thigh highs, and a sheer cropped top that hid exactly nothing. My nipples were already hard from the AC and anticipation. I recognized half the faces, friends from the scene, regulars at the dungeon parties, a couple of models who liked to play rough, but the rest were strangers and that made my cunt clench before anyone even touched me.

The store was empty except for a young attendant at the far end, busy cleaning something behind the counter. I moved slowly through the aisles, letting my fingers brush over lace and silk as I lazily shuffled through the displays. I paused at one set that barely qualified as clothing and wondered how anyone was even supposed to wear it. I picked it up… a blue pair of panties with a tiny matching top that surely couldn’t cover anything — then set it aside and kept walking. Different sets in red, black, pink, and white filled the racks. My fingers trailed over the fabrics as I wandered deeper into the store until I reached what looked like the costume section.