Slimy Panties Novels & Stories

He pulled me to the fitting room and I tried everything on again. But this time, I was actually amazed by how true Victor was when he told me about how comfortable these panties could be! It felt so different from men's underwear, they are so smooth, so light, and some of them even make your skin feel cool and refreshing! I never expected how powerful these panties could be! My mind was so blown! After we obtained the sets of lingeries, boxes of squishy silicone breast pads, and pairs of stockings, we went to the next stop.

Upside down, I watch my heavily soaked panties. ‘Jeez, Pam!’ The same part of me tries to scold me but I’m beyond that. I shove my hand in and peel off my panties. The rich sight has me gasping. It’s incredibly wild watching the slimy cum drip from my wet pussy. It carelessly spills along my thighs. It leaves me curling my toes and hoping to fuck with you. ‘PAM!’ I swipe a pad-full and pull out. Finally standing upright, I stare at my coated finger.

Another slid up her thigh, pushing the heavy wool of her habit higher until it bunched around her hips, fully exposing her simple white cotton panties. “Please… this is wrong,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I am sworn to God. I cannot…” The words died in her throat as the largest tentacle, thick as her wrist, covered in soft, pulsing ridges, pressed firmly against the soaked crotch of her panties. The tip flared and began to rub in slow, deliberate circles, smearing thick, pearlescent slime through the thin fabric. The moment the slime touched her skin, fire ignited in her veins.

He came around the front of the car, his broad shoulders filling the space between us, and held out his hand. Reluctantly, I pulled the bag from under my jacket and handed it over, watching as he dumped the contents onto the hood. The black lace panties spilled out first, delicate and sheer, the kind that would cling to my ass cheeks and show every curve. Then the bra, cups edged with scalloped trim, meant to push my tits up high and inviting. “These are slutty as hell,” he said, picking up the panties and holding them up to the light, the fabric translucent enough to hint at what they’d barely cover.

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.

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.

The low light clung to my skin, tracing the lace of the black lingerie. It felt like a second skin, clinging, whispering promises with every breath. The panties, a mere suggestion of fabric, offered a tantalizing peek through the small keyhole cut into the crotch. My reflection stared back, a woman on the precipice, primed for a fall. Anticipation hummed in my veins, a dark, sweet melody. Anything tonight. Everything.

Since the dress barely covered the essentials everyone could see the lady was not wearing any underwear with this hot satin handkerchief. She had to show me that she had her skimpiest panties, essentially a tiny red triangle with an absorbent gusset (in case we fucked). The back and the waistband was transparent fishing line. These minimal undies were in her purse, but could be worn if there was a need. If she was drunk enough she teased that she could put them on in public - so I could remove them for the fun stuff.

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.

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.