Soaked Panties Novels & Stories

The silky fabric whispered up my thighs as Dante’s hand moved with purpose, his fingertips brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, so close to where I was aching and soaked for them. Dante’s breath was hot against my ear. “Let’s see how wet our girl is already,” he murmured, his voice rough with hunger. His fingers finally reached my panties, pressing firmly against the drenched lace. He rubbed slow, firm circles over my pussy through the thin fabric, feeling exactly how soaked I was. “Fuck, Dad… she’s absolutely dripping. Her panties are soaked through. This greedy little cunt is weeping for us.” Victor groaned into my mouth, sucking on my tongue before breaking the kiss just enough

Certainly, I wasn't under the drugs anymore. But why was Dane's presence having this much control over my body? It was embarrassing. My breath came in quick spurts as I pulled down my trousers. My fingers fumbling as I shifted my panties to the side. Fucking hell! My entire panties had been soaked. Wet, warm and slimy. My fingers grazed through the wetness. I moaned silently, biting my bottom lip. Fragments of images flashed through my mind. Images of Dane's hands rubbing my clit.

The skirt pools around your ankles like spilled ink. Panties last. They’re soaked through—crotch dark, clinging obscenely. Hook your thumbs in the sides. Drag them down inch by torturous inch. The wet fabric peels away from your folds with a soft, sucking sound. A fresh string of slick stretches between cotton and cunt before it snaps, landing cool on your inner thigh. You step free. Kick them aside. They land somewhere in the dark with a damp slap. Naked. Vulnerable. Turn around.

Leave your panties at home. I was in a deposition at 10 AM—some bullshit merger dispute—and I couldn't focus on a single word being said. All I could think about was sitting across from Ryan with my bare pussy exposed under the table. About his fingers sliding up my thigh. About him testing me to see if I'd actually obeyed. God, I'm such a slut. The thought made me wetter. By the time I got back to my office, my panties were soaked through. I took them off in the bathroom, shoved them in my purse, and put on the dress I'd brought—a simple black wrap dress that tied at the waist. Easy access.

Luckily I only had a towel draped around my waist or it would be straining right now. When I reach her lace panties, I already know that she is soaked and ready for me, but I want to taste her desire. I ran a finger up her slit, feeling her drenched right through her panties. She bucks her hips, needing a lot more friction than a mere touch of my finger, so I slip off her panties and toss them to the side.

He smirks when he sees my black lace panties and brings his nose to my crotch. He takes a whiff of my panties and his fingers wrap around the lace. With one brutal yank, Sir Oliver rips the delicate fabric in two, shredding it like paper in his hand. I gasp at the sudden exposure, my body shaking from the thrill of it all. I'm soaking wet. The ruined panties flutter to the ground like fallen petals. My bare flesh meets Sir Oliver's starving gaze. And yes, I'm smoothly shaved this time. Call me crazy but I've been shaving everyday since that night. And I've taken an interest in wearing panties more often.

Shamefully, eagerly wet. His fingers traced the edge of my panties, feeling how soaked the fabric had become. A quiet shiver ran through me as he pressed the flat of his hand firmly against my center, rubbing slow circles over my swollen clit through the drenched lace. The pressure was perfect, teasing yet deliberate. On the screen, a woman screamed as something monstrous chased her through a pitch-black forest, but I could barely register it. All my mind was focused on was Lucas’s hand working between my spread thighs in the dark.

The delicate black lace panties that adorned her ass cheeks only served to amplify his every breath, leaving him breathless and consumed by desire. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her black lace panties, slowly dragged them along her legs and left them near her ankles. Taking her ass cheeks in the palm of his hand, he applied gentle pressure, relishing in the sensation. Sofia's moans of pleasure reached his ears, fueling his determination. Emboldened by her response, he increased the pressure, causing her to groan even louder, a symphony of gratification.

A soft sigh escaped me as my fingers brushed higher, over the damp lace of my panties. Already soaked. I pressed lightly, feeling the heat through the thin barrier, and closed my eyes. The TV faded to background moans, whispers but in my head it was Steve’s voice, low and teasing “Wet already?” Like he had in the office, kneeling between my legs, breath hot against my inner thigh. I hooked a finger under the lace, pulled it aside, exposing myself to the empty room. Cool air hit my slick folds and I shivered. I dipped one finger in, slow, circling my entrance, gathering the wetness.

Cool air hit my heated skin, making me shiver. “Let’s see.” His fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties, and I felt Brandon’s grip shift on my shoulders, holding me more firmly as Jackson tugged them down. “Please Don’t—” The word came out weak. My panties slid down my thighs, stopping at my knees and Jackson spread my ass cheeks, wide enough to reveal my drenched folds. “Holy fuck, she’s soaking wet,” Brandon said, his voice thick with obvious lust. “I think she likes it.”