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My first attempt at a story so, please, be gentle. Panty lovers might get a kick out of it! Feedback appreciated.

Hope someone enjoys it out there…


Denise lived next door to my family as I grew up in a small city in Australia. She was married to a guy who never grew up, drank a lot and treated her poorly. Their home was littered with his empty beer bottles and her empty dreams.

My Dad would often say she was a pretty woman who deserved a whole lot better in life. Denise was originally a country girl and in Australia that meant there was a certain something about her. She came from a sheep and grain farming family and was used to hard, physical work. This also meant that she had muscularity to her feminine shape and ‘wiriness’ in her long limbs.

Denise was tall, with large, heavy, firm breasts atop a slim body. Her dark brown hair was always shiny I remember and whilst she seldom wore make-up, she was a young, attractive looking woman for a forty two year old. She hadn’t had children, which surprised me because she was a qualified teacher who seemed to love children.

My lasting memory of Denise to this day was that she would always work in a singlet shirt outside in her garden (in Australia they’re called ‘Wife Beater’ singlets) with ‘Farmer shorts’ that were rolled up to expose a fair portion of her thighs (Farmer shorts were pretty common, strong, canvas shorts in the 80’s in Australia). She would be so engaged in her work that most often her right bra strap would slip down onto her arm and she was forever jerking that arm upward to loop the strap back over her shoulder. That action would cause her right breast to jiggle deliciously and it was this jiggle that has etched itself into my mind for eternity.

Whilst there were other, prettier women in the local area for me to fantasise about in my late adolescence (I had just turned 18 at the time of this story), Denise was my next door neighbour and she was always close by. I had diarised in my mind all meetings with her on different levels that fuelled my masturbatory fantasies as a young adult.

Most common were the picture stills in my mind that were seared in my memory: a hint of breast flesh here, a cursory glance up the leg of her shorts to reveal pale blue panties, bending over in the garden to reveal a heart shaped ass atop long powerful legs — the list was, and still is, endless. I often lay on my bed in the stillness of night, furiously beating off to visions of her dressed in panties and bra with me holding her breasts or her allowing me to rub my fingers over her panty clad pussy, feeling the wetness seep through the thin gusset of material. I could never ‘last’ long enough to actually consider any sort of sexual penetration in my dreams — rather I was simply longing to touch her I suspect.

In fact, panties (and most specifically, her panties) had become one of my obsessions as my teen years faded. The fact that a woman’s panties were worn close to her pussy made them ‘private’ garments for me. My experiences with cousins and relatives had taught me that women’s panties were private — my cousin once screamed with disgust when I simply fingered a pair of her panties on the clothesline at her home one sunny afternoon. It caused a minor family breakdown and I remember, after the event, Dad had explained to me (under duress from Mum) that it probably wasn’t the best idea to play with a woman’s ‘private attire’ because, in his words, ‘Blokes don’t play with women’s undies mate.’ A typically Aussie Dad response.

However the sheer reaction from my cousin that afternoon had set me on the well trodden male path that, if women were not keen for me to see their panties, there must be something worth looking at! Thus I deduced if panties were my ‘thing’, then the next obvious step in my young, preoccupied male mind might appear to be having a pair of Denise’s!

And so it began.

My parents, freed from a life of child minding at my coming of age, had become expert travellers. They had been reticent to let me stay on my own at home during my early teen years. Thus, with their newfound freedom, each weekend saw them load up the car and take off to some sort of beach location around our state — often with friends who had also jettisoned their parental responsibilities, leaving their kids at home to fend for themselves.

In the summer of 1986 Mum and Dad were off every weekend, often arriving home on a Sunday evening just in time to unpack, sleep and wake the next day to head to work for the week.

So it was one particular weekend in ’86 that I stood on the driveway and waved them goodbye to the increasingly familiar sounds of arguing from next door. As my parents disappeared from sight down the road, my attention turned to Denise and her husband attempting to pack their own car for a weekend trip to visit her parents.

As I looked on, Denise struggled out the front door with two bags packed to splitting point wearing a patterned, summery dress that billowed bursa escort in the afternoon cool breeze. Her gorgeous breasts jiggled with her effort and my eyes focused so I could commit this to memory for later that night. She offered me a warm smile which was quickly followed by a scowl as her dead head husband issued a torrent of abuse from within the house. Seeing her unsuccessfully attempt to swing the bags into the trunk of the car, I quickly jogged over the grassed area between our houses to help.

I offered her a ‘Hello’ and grabbed at the handle of the case in her right hand to help her out. She muttered a quick ‘Thankyou’ and I got an eye full of jiggling boob as her body adjusted to the lack of weight. Her Lavender smell was present as always and I could make out some panty lines through her cotton dress. I became fully aware of my pulse and heartbeat at that second.

Placing the bag in the trunk I turned and saw her smile at me warmly, even placing a hand on my shoulder to thank me silently with her eyes. The softness of the moment hardened as her husband announced his presence, a large burp and a request to ‘Hurry the Fuck up!’ breaking the spell between us it seemed. He slammed the trunk shut with another burp.

He moved to the car and shouted at her to jump in — now!

‘I have to lock the front door’, she feebly replied to him, moving toward the car door. He started the car and it just as quickly began to move forward with Denise pacing next to it trying to catch the door handle to get in.

‘I’ll lock it for you!’ I yelled as gently as I could and I caught her smile as she literally jumped into the moving car as it sped off. The last thing they would have seen in the rear view mirror was a vision of me walking toward their front door — and they were gone.

‘Simple thing to do really’ I thought to myself as I walked to their porch area, the front door slightly ajar. I reached out to grab the handle, checked it was locked and was about to slam it shut when I stopped. My nose had caught the Lavender scent of Denise as it wafted through the open door space.

Suddenly all of the ‘pictures’ flooded my head at once: the jiggle of her breast as she replaced the bra strap, the sneak peak of pale blue panties whilst crouching down in the garden, her smell, her panties, her… Her panties! My arm stopped just as the lock on the door was about to ‘click’ shut.


My arm now pushed at the door gently and it opened. I pushed harder and it opened all the way up displaying the chaos inside but all I could ‘see’ were her panties.

I became acutely aware of my pounding heart and throbbing temples at this point. It was the most erotic I had felt in my life. I wasn’t supposed to be there! As I stepped through their doorway it was almost like stepping into a pair of panties. I was about to go where I wasn’t allowed and about to see things I wasn’t supposed to see.

I delicately shut their front door behind me and stopped in the hallway. The silence was almost deafening as I suspected they may return to grab something they had forgotten in their rush and my ears were highly sensitive to any noise that appeared from outside. After standing in the hallway waiting for a period of around 5 minutes, with my heart beating through my chest, I was convinced that they weren’t coming back and made my move.

I ventured straight to their bedroom and was confronted by a filthy mess. His stuff was strewn all over the floor making clean and dirty one big indiscriminate pile next to his side of the bed. His bedside table was littered with beer cans and had an ashtray that overflowed with butts and ash. There were shoes in a pile in the corner and jeans and shirts draped over a chair that sat in another corner of the room. He was a pig and he lived like one.

However Denise’s side of the bed seemed to be ‘made’ and her bedside table wasn’t overstuffed with clothes or filth. I zeroed in on her bedside drawers immediately and carefully moved toward them, my temples throbbing with excitement as I took each step on the soft carpet underfoot.

I opened the top drawer and found several different perfume bottles, however all of them were empty or very close to it. I noted a lot of them were Lavender based scents. She also had assorted, coloured hair ties, some knotted up that were often seen in her long, shiny, brown hair when she tied it back. There was a pack of playing cards underneath some letters from the local bank in one corner of the drawer and a few tubes of cream that seemed very old and past their due date in another.

I closed the first and opened the second drawer to be absolutely dazzled by a selection of her bras. Most were white or beige and, judging by the frayed materials and clasps, had seen better days. There didn’t appear to be any real colour of note and, given it was the 80’s, they lacked a certain sensuality that the modern forms possess. However they reeked of her aroma and they were so bursa escort bayan soft — I distinctly remember rubbing one pair against my face and just absolutely revelling in the erotic sensation and her odour. I imagined the weight of her meaty breasts filling each one of the cups as I buried my whole face with 4 or 5 bras, in raptures as I breathed in the scent of her body. However bras weren’t my desired item — I closed the second drawer and gazed at the third and final one.

(A vivid memory strikes me about opening the third drawer — I liken it in my mind to the old Gene Hackman version of ‘Charlie and the Chocolate Factory’ when Charlie finds the golden ticket in the chocolate bar. As he opens the wrapper, a tinge of gold light shines on his face like he has seen the most remarkable thing in his life!)

My shaking hand reached out and I heard a wooden creak as I pried the drawer from its frame. As it opened the contents inside lit up my face like a beacon. There were panties everywhere!

The smell was undoubtedly Denise, yet I also got my first real hint of the female scent at that exact moment. There was the presence of Lavender alright but there was also a hint of muskiness that tantalised my senses. As I pulled the drawer completely open I was met with around 20 pairs of panties. The colours were more adventurous for these items — a mix of blue, black, white and a light green colour. Some were what I later became to know as satin, some were cotton and two pairs were dark in colour with a lacy panel on the front that was obviously see through when they were on. My cock lurched in my pants as I pictured her wearing these for me and I became aware of the growing wet spot of pre-cum that soiled the front of my shorts.

I chose the lacy, see through numbers first up, making sure I knew how to replace them when finished. I bought the material to my face and rubbed it on my cheeks, getting off on the fact that ‘I wasn’t supposed to be playing with women’s undies’ but loving the fact that I was. I knew the gusset of each pair would hold her own special scent and found my nose searching out this part of both pairs. The soft material that covered her pussy had obviously held some of her smell over time and I now found myself floating in an erotic world — almost a nirvana type state. Time seemed to stand still for me that day.

Holding the dark pairs in one hand I grabbed at a pair of silky panties with my other. I bought them to my nose and inhaled roughly, soaking up ‘her’. I felt briefly annoyed, as one does when you get a hair caught in your mouth, but my body literally shuddered when I realised that the hair was possibly one of her pubic ones. I tore the panties from my nose and, with an eagle eye, inspected the crotch panel to find a pubic hair, approximately 2-3 cm long, stuck in the side stitching. I reached out for it with my tongue and delicately licked the hair, telling myself this was just like licking her wet cunt — and for the first and only time in my life, I came in my pants without so much as rubbing myself. My knees threatened to buckle and I had to lower my body weight onto the nearby bed so I wouldn’t fall over or pass out! I then watched as my cum seeped through the front of my underwear and shorts to make a large wet spot above my pubic bone.

My breathing was ragged but I was not unsurprised to note my cock had not gone down after that huge load. It was still hard and seemed to be insistently throbbing once more. I noted the bunched up pairs of panties in my hand and softly chuckled to myself — I felt like the King of the World! Master of the Universe!

Placing the panties back in the drawer I dug down deeper at a slip of red material that seemed out of place from the plain coloured selection in front of me. It was smooth and silky and my heart raced as I soon pulled out a pair of red silk panties that appeared hardly worn. My senses went into overload when I noted the crotch area of the knickers was ‘missing’ and I held in my hands a pair of crotchless panties. My heart skipped a beat, my mouth dried up and the pounding in my temples reached jungle drum proportions. Holding these in my hands was like a gold miner holding the Mother Load.

There was still a swatch of red silk in the drawer and further pulling revealed what was a matching bra made of red silk with mesh covering where the tops of her breasts would have been. The material seemed almost to melt in my hands and I noted they trembled in my touch.

I laid out what I was calling her ‘special’ underwear onto her side of the bed, wondering quite honestly as to when she might have had occasion to wear such gorgeous stuff when she was married to such a Wanker! In my mind I pictured her wearing this stuff for him and saw him lean back on the bed, burp and then go to sleep, leaving her unsatisfied and looking a bit foolish in her special underwear.

I quickly lost my clothes and lay down next to the underwear with my cock waving around in front escort bursa of me. Positioning the panties next to my cock I slowly pushed its throbbing head through the crotchless slit, imagining it was the soft outer lips of her cunt as I pushed further. The engorged head of my cock was sliding joyously against the panel of silk that made the back of the panties. Holding the panties with both hands I proceeded to slowly fuck the little hole but this proved a little hard to do. I soon moulded the panties around my shaft with one hand, ensuring all of my cock was covered in the slick, smooth material and I began to pound away on my knob like there was no tomorrow.

I was on my knees, legs apart and I was pulling my dick with a ferocity I had never experienced before. I spied her bra in front of me and leaned my head over to smell her scent once more. My tongue found the cup of the bra and I licked at it like a wild animal, eager to taste her, have her on me.

My flailing hand tightened around my shaft and, in no time, I was convulsing, spurting hot, sticky cum all over her panties, her bra, her bed — God I wished it was all over her. I fell to the side, spent and surveyed the mess I had blown onto her bed sheets. My cum was everywhere and I was so sated, that I simply lay there and watched it soak into the sheets until it became crusty and stale.

My next conscious thought was the realisation it was dark outside and I sensed the need to go home. I packed up the panties and placed them all back in place in her drawer. My ignorance meant that I thought the stains from my cum would merely disappear from her underwear so I spent some time sponging my goo from her sheets but neglected to clean her ‘special’ red panties and bra. When it was all back in place I walked out to the front door.

I was again just about to lock the door and walk home when I realised I would have open access all weekend. I sensed the need to go home so I simply shut their front door without locking it and headed into the night air with a swagger I hadn’t had before. I had just seen the ‘private’ stuff that women wore and had just done unspeakable things to Denise’s underwear. It felt so good and, given the intensity of my cum into her panties, I slept like a log that night — with the knowledge that I was merely 20 metres away from more of ‘her’ panties.

I was never an early riser but I bolted out of bed early on that Saturday morning, threw on some clothes and headed over to ‘her house’. I did a quick check to ensure they hadn’t magically appeared over night and, when satisfied, I headed toward the front door, finding it unlocked. I entered again to the smell of Denise.

My dreams overnight had centred on taking a pair of panties as a trophy. I figured they’d also serve as my jerking off device but something else had occurred to me during sleep. I had experienced ‘her’ smell last night and wondered openly whether she might have some panties that had been worn recently and whether they might smell more. I had settled on the idea that I’d check their dirty clothes hamper when I was next there — and there I was!

I moved through their house in a way I suspected a burglar might move — catlike and with senses on high alert. The constant dripping of a leaking tap sounded out my arrival at the bathroom/laundry area of the home and again I felt my cock grow inside my shorts. I entered and quickly spied the overflowing dirty clothes hamper in the corner of the tiled room.

I opened the hamper and suffered through several items of clothing that were his — filthy, brown stained underwear, shirts with full moon sweat marks on the arm pits that had been worn into yellow/brown stains. However, mindful that artists tended to suffer for their art I received a jolt of electricity when my fingers came upon a smooth, soft piece of cotton material below a pair of dirty jeans. I lifted the offending garment to my eyes and almost fell over — in front of my nose was a pair of ‘her’ panties that ‘she’ had worn recently.

They were blue cotton panties with a small pale pink bow at the front on the stitching. I opened them out to reveal a gusset that clearly showed what looked to be the line between her cunt lips that had been transposed there from the moisture of daily wear. From the mark left there I surmised that she must have thick and plump vaginal lips with a deep slit between them. There was a small light coloured stain in the middle of ‘her lips’ which had dried to be a pale white colour and it was seemingly ‘dusty’ in texture. I lowered my lips to it and immediately felt my cock lurch as I tasted her pussy for the first time. I soon had my tongue at work licking the whole crotch area while the hand not holding the panties freed my pulsing cock.

I leaned back against the tiled wall of their bathroom and slid my hand up and down my cock whilst thrusting those panties into my mouth and all over my face. I began to see spots in front of my eyes, my knees almost gave way as I thrust my cock outward and pumped my cum all over my fist and splashed it on the floor. I remember looking into the mirror and seeing my flushed face as I came, cheeks were burning red and sweat dripping from my brow. At that point, this had been the most intense orgasm of my entire life.

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