I bought some panties for you.
Pink panties.
“Amourette D�cor” they’re called. A lacy, feminine thong, crafted in that most girlish of colours.
Pink is not a colour I’ve bought in lingerie before. My tastes have always held to the bolder hues: brilliant white; brazen scarlet; sapphire blue; femme fatale black. Pink always seemed a little … pale to me. Weak. Insipid in the depths of its pastel heart. Incapable of committing to extremes.
Yet something about these panties made me think of you. Made me yearn to see you in them.
Made me want to fuck you while you wore them.
I thought of mailing them to you.
There would be a brief handwritten note inside the package, telling you to wear them while you pleasured yourself, and thought of me. I imagine you slowly stripping yourself naked and slipping the panties on. I close my eyes and see you touching yourself through them, rubbing yourself, the soft cotton cleaving your ripe labia; your fingers circling, dancing, lingering over your aching clitoris and your swelling lips, moving faster, firmer, bringing yourself to one delicious orgasm after another, and all the time dreaming of my cock, hard and long, in your mouth, your cunt, your ass. Your sex grows wetter and wetter, the panties’ soft gusset sipping, drinking, gorging on your juices, until the material possesses the very essence of you. And then you mail them back to me, so that I can hold them to my face, breathe deeply of the scents of your sex, and then wrap them around my erect cock; stroking myself while I think of you, your creamy nakedness, your mouth on my cock, your cunt against my tongue. And when I come, I clutch them against my cockhead, and spill my scolding lust over the ashes of yours.
But if I take that route, I limit myself - limit us both - to the realm of imagination. I’ll deny myself the opportunity of seeing you wearing them, of hooking my fingers over the delicate waistband and easing them over your hips and your arse, and down your slender legs. Or of pulling them carefully to one side, and sliding my cock inside you while you’re still wearing them.
Wouldn’t that be so much richer an experience?
So tell me. Leave a comment. What’s your pleasure? To hear the soft thud of a package dropping to the floor from your letter box? Or to wait, breathless with anticipation in some softly lit restaurant, knowing that I’m on my way, knowing what I carry with me?
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It wasn’t so easy to make the choice. They are very pretty. So I’ll come to the restaurant, bare-bottomed and wanting, to receive your present. Reaching down to pull them up my legs, legs that squirm just a bit to get them positioned. Once they were on I’d smile over at you, knowing it would be you taking them off - later.
Rosie, what a delicious prospect - watching you across the table as you slip into the thong, suspecting that you were already moist, and likely to become even moister…
~EA
EA, the colour will look fetching against my skin. As Rosie said, this is the hardest of decisions to make. And, I also offer an alternative.
Post them to me. Slipping them on and then being deliciously naughty as I played, my essence coating them. I would then wear them shortly after the play to meet you in the restaurant. I would nip off to the toilets soon after arriving and meeting you, slip them off and then into your pocket upon my return. With a brazen smile, I would whisper to you what I had done just before I took my seat naked beneath my dress.
So this is a pink to complement the gleam of your nakedness? I can’t recall having seen any self-portraits posted within the bounds of your own journal, so I’ll have to accede to your assertion, and the power of my imagination. And your alternative certainly sounds delectable. Thank you, Kristen…
~EA
I’d love to get them in the mail. I’ll wear them for a bit while I’m getting ready so that they smell of me. Then, after the restaurant, I’ll stroke you with them.
They look perfectly silky for that, don’t they?
How could I possibly eat with the promise of such a delight to follow, AAG? My mouth would be dry with anticipation. And yes, they do look perfect for the application of long, languid strokes…
~EA
I’m not going to answer your post right now but I wanted to say that I’ve been reading for a few weeks and you’re doing good work. Keep it up!
Thank you for saying so, Indigo…
~EA
Oh!
What if you sent them to me by post and I wore them for a day while I played. The next day I could mail them back for you to enjoy and you could return them to me at dinner. ^_~
The best of both worlds, eh? Tell me, Shay: would you like me just to hand them back to you, or to slip them back up your legs from beneath the table while the waiter’s refilling your champagne flute?
~EA
Just send them around the world, have beautiful woman wear them and post the pictures.. Great blog
That’s an intriguing suggestion. I guess I’ll have to put in some serious overtime at the foundry if I’m going to be buying that many pairs, though!
Glad you’re enjoying the blog…
~EA
I’d want you to mail to me so I could feel the silkiness against my skin. Rubbing them against me imagining how you’ll lift them aside to taste me. And knowing that after dinner you’ll be doing just that.
Just discovered your blog and thoroughly enjoying it. Absolutely delightful.
You make it sound utterly irresistable, you dirty little girl.
I’m very pleased to hear that you’re enjoying the blog…
~EA
I really thought about buying pink the other day, after reading yours…. but somehow, pink under a nurses uniform top, I don’t know the black surprise lying inside of that white. I think the contrast worked better this way. He’s still in shock. His favorite moment tho was looking up at the ceiling mirror and seeing me doing him with a nurses cap on.
Go figure.
Maybe he’s got a hat fetish?
I think you’re right, KJ. The contrast between black and white is especially striking - especially when it’s a case of black lingerie beneath a stark white nurse’s uniform (I hope it was properly starched!). I suspect he doesn’t have a hat fetish though: I’d guess it was your entire ensemble - combined with what you were doing to him at the time - that was getting him off. Whether he has a nascent uniform fetish is another matter though…
~EA
Oh you will have to slip them on me.
“oops, I dropped my fork, be a dear and pick it up for me please?”
Now that sounds delicious. Will you promise to keep a straight face while I’m slipping them onto you? And I’ll promise not to peek - too much…
~EA
I love it !! I would love you to mail them to me … airmail to my home in Brooklyn. I’d open them up, feel their silky softness, giggle at the implied innocense of their ‘pinkness’ … i’d shower, shave, moisturize my entire body, slip them on and slip in to bed and think about … what? you? who are you? … some ‘you’ i imagine … i’d rub myself slowly at first, then increasingly so … through their liquid silkiness, creating a hot and soaked and sweaty juice-engorged miasma, as i cum and cum, and cum …
and then i’d fall asleep, dreaming of sucking you deeply, and your tongue, deep deep inside me …
in the morning, refreshed, was that a dream? … laundry … gentle cycle, delicate fabrics, hang dry … fold up and put away … another fantasy for another day … perhaps … perhaps not …
lovely thought and fantasy provoking post … sir.
Catnip: believe, me when I say, it was a genuine pleasure to provoke your fantasies…
~EA
I want them, but I’d want you to fuck me in them before we went out. Just pull them aside, bend me over and fuck me hard. Then as we were out, you’d know that your semen was not only inside me, but mixed with my juices in the gusset of the panties. I’d be soaking wet all night!
Web, that sounds utterly wonderful…
~EA
Wickedly naughty!
Glad you thought so…
~EA