Monday, July 23, 2007

Panty Fetish, anyone?

It all started with a pair of purple panties.

I bought them at Victoria’s Secret, one of the few indulgences I could afford to make on a part-time salary. I was a full-time college student, and saying money was tight was an understatement. I had scrimped and saved for those panties and that beautiful matching bra, the one that held my breasts in just the right way, the one that always made me look a size bigger. Those panties, however, they hugged in all the right places, never rode up and made my hips look perfectly curved. I loved the bra, but I loved the panties even more.

My boyfriend loved those panties, too.

Taylor would lie in bed beside me and run his fingertip across the edging of those panties, riding it all the way around my hip and between my thighs, over my belly and across the small of my back. He would slip his finger underneath and lightly touch the satin with just his fingertips, then trace the places on my skin where it had touched. The panties became our own special brand of foreplay. He would spend a good hour making smaller and smaller circles until he found the wetness he had created, and then he would make me come while those panties caressed my skin with the familiarity of a lover.

Sometimes we would go out to dinner or a dance or simply walk around the college square at night and at some point, I would lean over and casually tell him I was wearing purple. Other women might get a rise out of their men by mentioning they were stark naked under whatever demure outfit they were wearing, but I could always get Taylor going by simply leaning over and whispering into his ear, “I’m wearing purple.”

Sometimes he fucked me while I wore them. He pulled the crotch aside just enough that he could slip his cock against the satin even as it slid into me, and the delicious friction of my tight wetness and that satin tease would drive him over the edge faster than anything else we could possibly do in bed. Then, of course, he would pull the panties back into place. I would walk around the house with panties on and nothing else, drenched between my legs from the wetness he had put there, and before I could get out of the bedroom to get a glass of water he would be ready for another round.

I was wearing the purple panties when he asked me to marry him...

And then, things started to get really interesting!

To read the rest of the story, as well as other hot and steamy tales from fantastic authors, visit Ruthie's Club. You'll be glad you did.

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