THE SCENT OF LACE – My Pantie Fetish Story
My gaze glides over the silky red fabric in my hand. I let the satin lace slide through my fingers and revel in the softness against my skin. My pointer finger brushes against moistness and my lips part in a moan as I spread the crimson panties out across my hand.
The lace is a series of delicate crisscross patterns along the waistband and the leg holes, and the glow of my flesh through the design makes me imagine a creamy pelvic bone poking up through the top. I brushed the incredibly soft threads across my lips, and my nose caught a whiff of feminine fragrance.
It took all of my willpower not to just bury my face in the panties right then. But this was special. I couldn’t just dive in right away. I grasped the edges of the crotch in pincer grips with my thick fingers and stretched the fabric taut.
The discolouration of the fabric told me that she’d been sweating, but the scent told me that at some point, she’d been aroused. It was equal parts salty and musky and my cock was so hard I thought it might punch a hole in my jeans.
I quickly shed my clothes, all the while still clutching the panties in my left fist. I wouldn’t need them anyway. This woman was one to be savoured, not just fucked with my pants around my ankles.
I resumed sitting on my plush bed, the memory foam hugging my bare ass like a lover. I spread the fabric out again to examine the crotch and realized that I’d struck gold.
There was a very thin sheen of milky nectar along the middle seam as if it had gotten stuck up in her folds through the day. I waved it under my nose like I was smelling a cigar and reveled in the tangy aroma wafting to me. I imagined a red-painted nail picking this fabric out from between tight labia beneath a pinstriped skirt.
My tongue darted out, as if all by itself, to sample just the tip of the seam, and my eyes rolled back at the zestiness attacking my taste buds. She tasted like the sea, like life, like a thin drizzle of chili-spiced chocolate enveloping a string of licorice.
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I couldn’t help myself. I sucked the crotch of the panties between my lips, the moisture from my mouth permeating the thread count and loosening the fluids within. As I sucked, flavours rolled around in my mouth, assaulting my senses with a heady savour that I’d never experienced in my life.
It was as if this woman had danced all day just for me, worked out just for me, rubbed her little pink clit all over the fabric just for me. I drank the essence of her, letting it overwhelm me.
Spittle started to drip down my chin and I immediately removed the fabric from my mouth, scooping the escaped liquid back up between my lips with my finger. I didn’t want to lose any of her.
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My lips and chin smelled like her now, and if I licked my lips I could taste her lingering there. My cock was a beacon of mass destruction, painfully hard and jutting out from my body like a telephone pole.
I laid the panties next to me on the bed and ran my finger along the now sopping crotch, placing soft kisses along the seam. My other hand stroked my thick cock, teasing and feather-light touches as if from this woman herself.
I took the fabric and circled my nipple with it, the moisture leaving chills in their wake as I tightened my grip around my aching member. I massaged my chest with the panties, covering myself in her scent, marking myself as her territory. I felt like I was drowning in a heady sea of her musk, the essence of a thick cloud over me.
I sped up my pace as I twirled the fabric over my forehead, the lace tickling my eyebrows and temples in its wake. My eyes slid closed and I concentrated on the softness, the sensation of the panties ghosting over my flesh, brushing over the muscles in my arm that were taut with each hard thrust of my cock into my hand.
I balled them up and shoved them into my mouth, moaning around the vermilion silk as my hips bucked up off of the bed. I imagined a laundry basket full of this woman’s negligee, burying my face in it.
I imagined her swallowing my cock deep into her throat and then aiming a hot stream of sticky semen all over the basket of panties. I imagined her milking every last drop and then dumping the basket on herself, rubbing every last sticky garment against her sopping wet pussy.I had always had a pantie fetish but now wow I have been left speechless of how turned on I truly am
I pulled the panties from my mouth, running them down my chest and massaging circles into my abdomen with them. I ran them around the base of my cock, the silky fabric almost like a warm wet pussy around my thick rod. I slowly grasped the garment around the lower half of my dick, continuing to jerk the top half with my other hand.
I imagined her spread legged on her own pastel bedspread, fingers working furiously at her pretty pink clit as she masturbated while thinking of me with her panties wrapped around my cock. I imagined that she was just as turned on as I was, dipping her middle finger into her soaked cunt right up to the knuckle, shrieking in arousal at the thought that her panties were being sucked and fucked by a stranger.
I let go with my top hand, reaching up to spit a glob of saliva into my palm. Its aroma was still flowery with her scent, and I groaned at the knowledge that my own mouth was producing her essence. I smoothed my natural lubricant down over the head of my cock, working it down along each ridge and vein. I tightened the panties with my lower hand around the base of the shaft like a noose, a silken cock ring.
I fell into a steady rhythm with my lubricated hand, little moans and groans starting to tear their way from my throat. My balls started to tighten, and I wrapped the panties around the base of my sack too, pulling the fabric taut as my jerking hand sped up.
My breathing became erratic and the muscles in my body started to tense, nerves on fire. My skin was electric, gooseflesh dancing up my arms in a shivering dance, hair standing at attention like little soldiers saluting my forward march.
Warmth began to pool in my belly, deep in my gut, spreading out to lick up my spine like a forest fire. I’d reached the point of no return and there was no way that I’d be able to stop now, my body rocking on the edge of the precipice, the pleasure I’d been drawing out the whole night ready to come crashing down into an explosion, the culmination of my need.
It felt as if every muscle in my body drew into my center, pulling almost painfully into my core, and then my balls let go. The pressure on my sensitive taint from the panties caused the pulsing of my orgasm to heighten, my come spurting straight up in the air like a fucking AK-47. I released my cock and balls from their satin bonds and a rush of pleasure whooshed over my body like a tsunami. This reminded me of when I viewed the live panty cams online one time and how turned on I was when I saw sexy girls pull their panties between their lips
A spray of hot semen hit my chest and I collapsed on the bed, limbs going limp and sinking deep into the memory foam like rubber. I felt like gelatin in a mould, laying there like a rag doll after a long day of play.
When my breathing started to even out, I slowly drew the panties up my chest, mopping up my spunk with loving care. Every single drop, mixing with the tang that was all hers, creating something new, something from both of us. I cleaned my chest and belly with the silky garment, squishing it around to evenly coat the fabric.
I leaned over to my side table and drew open the drawer languidly, producing a plastic Ziploc bag. I carefully inserted the double-soiled panties, and rolled up the plastic, squeezing all of the air out before sealing it. I placed a lazy kiss on the rolled-up bag and laid it back in the drawer. I’d vacuum pack it in the morning to send it back to her.
I flopped back down onto the bed, eyes heavy with heady pleasure, aftershocks tingling along my inner thighs. Those crimson satin lace panties were the best delivery yet. And an experience I surely wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
I drifted off to sleep with the taste of her musk clinging to my lips.
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