Peed Panties Novels & Stories

In disbelief, Jasmine dangled a pair of silky panties up in the air. The material parted at the crotch, forming a butterfly. She’d never owned such a scandalous undergarment in her life, and she couldn’t believe Wiley would actually bring her such a thing. Yet here they were, several pairs of them. Yep, she could choose to be risqué in fire engine red, pink, black, white or midnight blue. It got worse.

Davina POV “Better?” I ask, arching my back a little. The tips trickle in, $5 here, $8 there. Barely scraping seventy-five total. NightRider88: shorts next SugarKing: $15 for the panties I stand, turning so the camera catches the curve of my hips, and slide my thumbs into the waistband of the shorts. “Hey, Sugar King. You always this sweet?” I ease them down slowly, bending just enough to give them a show, then step out and kick them away.

I just glared at them and they finally ran away. "She has a period? Sir you might just want to buy her period panties, I guess?" "What?" "Period panties are washable, reusable underwear designed to replace pads and tampons, or be worn with tampons and cups for extra protection." "I'll buy them all." After buying those shits, I went straight to my private room and saw retard standing on one corner while her hands are on her tummy. “What the hell are you doing there?” I asked her. She looked at me like a poor little puppy. “I’m afraid I might stain your couch. I already stained your coat.”

I pretended I couldn’t see him, and turned slightly, arching my back just enough to push my tits out toward the glass, and hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts. Down they went, sliding over my hips, then my ass, cheeks jiggling as the denim dropped to the floor. I stepped out of them in just my panties now — tiny white ones that barely covered my pussy lips. The thin fabric was practically see-through where it was wet, the outline of my smooth slit on full display.

A bit relieved, but also freaked out. My sister slowly and obediently dropped to her knees, hands going for April's shorts and pulling them down. I remembered seeing her polka dot panties at the bar, so I was sure we had ducked somewhere to fool around. The red and white undergarment had reminded me of a cartoon mouse, and they quickly slid to her ankles as Katia dragged them down her thighs.

I bend at the waist, gently laying her down at the bed before rising to my full height, standing over my prey and casting my shadow down onto her. Her little skirt has ridden up- it’s bunched around her waist, revealing a simple pair of black cotton panties. Nothing fancy or fussy, but just perfectly her. I’ve been thinking about those panties since that day at the hot springs, and this time, when I slide my thumbs beneath the waistband at either side of her hips, she doesn’t stop me from peeling them down.

This was over. Instead, to my shock, my demure wife reached under her polka dot dress and pulled off her panties. They were white, cute, and cotton. She dropped them on the floor, then slid her dress back far enough so she could reach her own sex. No one could see anything private, only a bit of tan leg. But for Ariana it was scandalous.

I folded it quickly, almost angrily, and tossed it next my jeans. My panties matched the same wine-red color with a thin band of lace at the hips and a little bow at the front that I suddenly realized looked ridiculous in this context. It's like I had shown up to war carrying a ribbon. I ripped them off as heat crawled up my neck, tossing them next to my bra.

I looked forward to it. I chose the outfit carefully. No bra again—didn’t see the point. A thin white cotton camisole, almost see-through when the light hit it right. Tiny black sleep shorts that barely covered the bottom curve of my ass. No panties. The seam of the shorts pressed directly against my clit every time I moved. Torture. Delicious torture.

She unfastened her jeans with tantalizing slowness, seeming to lower the zipper a notch at a time. Her panties showed at last. They were skimpy bikinis, slung so low that a fringe of pussy hair showed above the elastic. Manuela shook her hips and the jeans fell all the way down her legs and she stepped out of them, completely naked, except for her tight panties. The sheer fabric of those panties hugged Manuela's crotch so snugly that the outline of her cunt was beautifully obvious. She rubbed herself through the clinging yellow nylon until it was darkened by a spreading stain of her pussy juice.