Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
The alarm clock startled me from a deep slumber, and for a brief moment, I was in the clutches of unmitigated fear and panic.
OH NO, my mind screamed. I HAVE TO GET OUT OF THESE PANTIES BEFORE MY MOTHER OR SISTERS CATCH ME!
When I reached over and pushed the button to stop the noisy clock, I was conscious enough to I realize I no longer lived at home. I flopped back down on my belly and waited until I caught my breath.
The front of my panties were crusty with dried semen, but they still felt wonderful against my erection. I ground my penis into the mattress and began my morning ritual.
There simply is no better way to start the day than with a rousing orgasm.
As I slowly moved my penis back-and-forth on the mattress, and the exciting sensations started to grow, I realized something wasn’t right; my head snapped to the side and I glared at the clock.
HOLY CRAP—IT’S SEVEN-O’CLOCK!
I’d meant to set the alarm for six.
Normally, I woke-up at seven when I drove to work. There was plenty of time to masturbate then get ready for work. Not now though, I had to catch the seven-twenty-two bus.
I rolled out of bed and hooked my thumbs in the waistband of the panties; they were stuck to my crotch, and it took some effort to peel them away from my skin. I pushed them down, stepped out of them, then opened the bottom drawer of the bureau, and placed them with the other pairs under my sweatpants and tee shirts.
I almost ran to the bathroom. I pissed then jumped into the tub and took a very fast shower.
I pulled on my ‘Dullard’s’ logo work shirt, and one of the three pairs of black pants that I owned; my hair was still damp as I hurried down the street to the bus stop. I made it with ten-seconds to spare. I climbed aboard, paid the fare, and found a seat close to the driver.
Oh darn, I thought. I’d forgotten to pull the bedcovers over the sheet. There was a huge, white splotch of dried you-know-what that sharply contrasted with the royal blue of the sheet.
Relax, John, no one is going to see it, I reassured myself. It’s not like I have to hide it from mom.
I was pleasantly surprised by the bus ride. It made too many stops, and it filled to standing-room-only, but all the people seemed normal.
At one point, an older fat lady plopped down on the seat next to me, and I was scrunched against the side of the bus, but it didn’t matter.
That’s when I noticed the smell. It was coming from my crotch and it was as familiar as the aroma of bacon or coffee in the morning.
Because I hadn’t had enough time, I’d done a haphazard job of cleaning myself. Now, some people say dried semen has no smell, but I know from years of experience they are wrong.
The aroma has been described as ‘ammonia-like’, but to me, and maybe my olfactory senses aren’t what they should be, it has the distinct smell of musky, seafood.
And now it was drifting upwards from my crotch and invading my nostrils. Maybe I shouldn’t admit this, but I like the smell.
I only hoped the lady next to me didn’t notice, but to my horror, she did.
At some point, she turned to me and said, in her best motherly-advice tone of voice, “Boy, you need to consider some serious hygiene improvements in the morning.”
My face turned beet-red. I said, “Yes, Maam.”
I stared out the window the rest of the time she sat beside me.
The ride was long, but uneventful.
When we arrived at Dullard’s, I thought, Danny, this is nothing—your fear-mongering won’t work—I can ride the bus for as long as it takes until you change that stupid ‘payment plan.’
Jennifer had been partially correct. I did work in the lingerie department, but only half the day. My other department was Beauty & Fragrances.
‘Perfume and Panties’ is how I smilingly thought of my job.
After I clocked-in, I would go see my boss, Mrs. Nelson, in the Lingerie & Sleepwear Department. She was in-charge of both departments, and would tell me where to begin each day.
She would say: “The sale on Cotillions starts today, make sure we’re fully stocked,” or, “A shipment of Calvin Klein’s is sitting in receiving,” or, “We’re running low on Elizabeth Arden” and so on….
I’d usually have to work Beauty first. The cases were too heavy for most of the sales ladies, and we sold more perfume and cosmetics than lingerie. I was fast and efficient, mainly so I could finish-up in Beauty as quickly as I could.
I didn’t much care for most of the Beauty sales ladies. They were usually cold and demanding, called me “Hon,” and they wore way too much make-up. I often coughed and gagged on the perfume they seemed to bathe in.
The Lingerie women were much nicer. They were older, more respectful, and generally seemed pleased to see me.
Of course, I preferred the Lingerie Department for obvious reasons.
We sold every type of lingerie imaginable, but my favorites were the panties and sexy sleepwear; namely the babydolls and chemises. I also loved to casino siteleri touch the sexy, flimsy lace bras, but thought it would be just plain silly and weird for me to wear brassieres.
I’ll never forget my first day on the job: I opened a box labeled ‘Hanky Panky’ and inside I found the sexiest panties I’d ever seen. I did my best to control myself, but when I held them in my hands, the sheer, smooth softness overwhelmed me. I sprang a boner and it throbbed and twitched inside my briefs.
I guess I’d gone into a trance or something, standing there staring at the panties and running my fingers all over them. Suddenly, I heard Mrs. Nelson cough. I looked up and saw her staring at me over the top of her reading glasses.
My face turned bright red, and moisture filled my eyes. I was sooo embarrassed!
“Oh jeez—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean anything—I don’t know what happened to me—I’m sorry….” I profusely apologized.
Her voice was even; no sign of anger or scorn.
“Sweetie,” she said softly, “don’t be embarrassed…a lot of men love the feel of women’s lingerie…it appears you have a panty-fetish—it’s nothing to be ashamed of…BUT, if you want to keep this job, you need to work on your self-control…alright?”
“Y-Y-Yes, Mrs. Nelson—I swear it won’t happen again!”
Then she added: “One more thing, dear…”
And horror-of-all-horrors, I saw her staring at my crotch.
“A boy like you shouldn’t wear light-colored slacks to work…stay with basic black,” she said with a slight smile then left me alone.
I looked down and saw the tiny bulge in my slacks, but far worse, a sizable pre-cum stain.
That evening on my drive home, I stopped and bought two more pairs of black pants.
The workday was coming to an end. I had one last package to open and stock the contents on a backroom shelf.
A feeling of excitement washed over me when I read ‘Cabernet – Panties.’ They too are some of my favorites.
I tore open the package and found the sleekest, sexiest panties I’d ever laid eyes on; they were diaphanous and pink. My prick instantly became erect. If it wasn’t for the security cameras, I would have massaged my erection right then-and-there.
I couldn’t just place them on the shelf, no, Mrs. Nelson had taught me how to neatly fold panties before I placed them on the shelf.
My hands trembled as one-by-one I folded the sexy pink panties. The soft and sensuous material caused my prick to jump and lurch in my briefs. I prayed to God I would finish before my balls exploded and I flooded my pants.
Just as I folded the last pair, and reached to place them on top of the others, my fingers manipulated the sheer fabric until it was a tiny ball in my hand. I closed my fist, moved away from the shelf and walked to an area I knew to be out of the range of cameras. I casually put my hand in my pocket, went about cleaning-up my work area, then strolled to the time clock and punched-out.
I slowly walked by George the Security Guard as he examined employee purses and packages. I smiled and he waved me thru the line. I was soon outside in the hot and humid Florida summer heat.
As I stood at the bus stop, I felt the familiar pangs of remorse and regret for taking the panties.
I’m not a bad person—I need these, I told myself. Sure, I already have pink panties, but they’re not see-thru—I need these for my ‘collection,’ and honestly, it’s not like I could buy them, everyone would know my secret, if I did that!
The bus arrived and I climbed onboard for the long ride home.
Two things struck me right away when I boarded the bus: it was already standing-room-only, and, the evening passengers looked different than the morning passengers.
I held onto a pole near the driver and resigned myself I’d have to stand for much of the hour-and-a-half ride.
“HEY KID,” the driver shouted at me. “YOU SPECIAL OR SOMETHING? MOVE TO THE BACK!”
It was embarrassing—all the other passengers looked at me as I carefully made my way as far back as I could go.
It was a whole different world in the back of the bus. The people seemed sullen and angry; no one smiled or talked or even made eye contact; some of them appeared to be downright dangerous. It felt like I was standing in the middle of a freak show.
I clutched a pole with both hands and hung-on for dear life as the bus lurched forward for a block then would suddenly stop. More and more people climbed aboard, but no one seemed to get off. We were soon packed-in like sardines in a tin can.
Then I became aware of all the smells. Everyone seemed to have their own particular brand of body odor and none of it was pleasant. And worse, my own smell began drifting upwards and I was horrified others would notice it, too.
During the course of my typical workday, I would have numerous erections from handling the merchandise, and my briefs would absorb many dribbles of pre-cum. I could now smell an even stronger aroma from my crotch than this morning.
I canlı casino looked down to see an older man sitting on the seat before me wrinkle his nose and glance at the front of my slacks; a strange grin spreading across his face. He looked up at me and winked. He had two teeth missing and his skin resembled old dry shoe leather. I quickly turned around and faced the other direction.
More people boarded the bus at the next stop; bodies were now pressing together. People were excusing themselves for stepping on feet, or elbowing the person next to them.
It seemed we were no longer human, just animals packed together in a small container on our way to the slaughterhouse. It was very demoralizing.
Someone began copping feels on my body. I couldn’t turn enough to see who it was, and I couldn’t move out of the way. The hand grasped one of my buttocks and gave it a squeeze. Finding I was a captive prisoner unable to move, the perpetrator became emboldened and cupped my genitals.
The motions of the bus didn’t help matters. I would fall against the intruding hand when the bus careened forward, then lurch into it when the bus came to a halting stop.
At the next stop someone got off the bus enabling me to move away from the hand. I casually glanced around trying to determine the guilty party but saw nothing incriminating.
Three guys boarded the bus, loud and obnoxious; they made their way back to where I was standing. They stood beside me. They looked dangerous and the one who appeared to be the leader, who had a nasty scar on his cheek looked me up and down.
He smiled and said, Hey, “Chica—want to have a party with me and my boys?”
I blushed, shook my head and mumbled, “No, uh, thanks!”
I tried to look as casual as I could by holding the pole with one hand while my other hand was in my pocket. Suddenly, the bus made a jolting stop and I instinctively jerked the hand from my pocket and grabbed the pole with both hands to keep from falling.
“You dropped something,” said Scarface. He had a huge grin on his thin lips.
I looked down to see my newly acquired pink panties lying beside my shoe. I stooped over and retrieved them and shoved them back in my pocket. My face was burning-red.
I mumbled, “Thanks—they’re, uh, a present for my girlfriend.”
He winked and said, “Uh-huh, sure.”
He never stopped looking at me the whole time he was on the bus. Twenty-minutes later, when the bus stopped on a block in what was probably the roughest section of town, just before he and his friends left, he said to me with deadly seriousness, “Chica, maybe I should have you model your little panties for me and my friends.” He opened his jacket and showed me a gun.
My heart caught in my throat; deafening alarm bells went off in my head. Suddenly, he broke out in laughter and he and his friends left the bus. I was trembling with fear for the remainder of the trip.
The evening itself was thankfully uneventful. My car was not in the parking lot, which meant it wasn’t fixed yet, and I didn’t see Danny or Jennifer at all.
After dinner, I went to the bedroom and fired-up my laptop. I tried to read my favorite news and opinion sites but I was restless and couldn’t concentrate. I got up from the desk and stripped.
I had laid my new panties on the bed so I took them in hand and marveled at their soft and sensuous feel. I couldn’t wait any longer: I grasped the frilly lace waistband, and stooped-over and stepped into them. I unconsciously wiggled my hips like a girl when I pulled them into place.
“Mmmmmmm….” I groaned when the tight material encased my genitals. My penis became hard in a matter of seconds.
I sat back down at my computer desk and opened the file ‘Insurance Quotes.’ All of my favorite porn sites began listing on the screen. There must have been forty of them but I didn’t see what I wanted.
I typed in ‘peniscocksandpricks.com’ and up popped my newest favorite site. I added it to my favorites under the name ‘PCP’…it was the first gay website I added to my list.
I began stroking my panty-covered erection with my right hand while my left hand navigated the mouse.
The memory of Danny’s cock was still fresh in my head. He had held my hand on it, and moved it back-and-forth. I searched the photos for a long and slender hard-on.
Oh, there it is, I thought to myself when I saw a young man sitting next to an older guy, holding the older guy’s stiff cock.
And for only the second or third time in my life, I fantasized about a hard penis: that it was me holding that cock—that it was my hand moving up-and-down the long, slender erection.
My right-hand moved faster-and-faster; rubbing the sheer fabric of the pink, diaphanous panties over my throbbing flesh. I was getting close.
I suddenly stood and went to the bed and threw myself down on my stomach. My fingers made sure my foreskin covered the glans then I ground my pelvis into the mattress. I closed my eyes and furiously fucked kaçak casino the mattress.
In my mind’s eye, I was sitting next to Danny on his couch; my fingers wrapped around his warm cock; stroking his hardened flesh. My hand moving faster-and-faster as he groaned, “Yes—yes—yes!” His voice—his excitement sending powerful jolts of pleasure shooting thru-out my body.
It started as a sweet, but thrilling sensation in my balls. I pressed my dick harder against the panties, suddenly, it began, my back arched-off the bed, I buried my face in the pillow and screamed and then, the hot sperm and semen exploded from my balls and shot thru my pulsating prick.
I thrashed wildly about the bed, careful to keep my dick pressed hard against the mattress for the ultimate effect.
My head rolled from side-to-side but my cries of joy were muffled by the pillow; I was always mindful about not making too much noise, I’m sure it was from growing-up in a small house with my mom and two sisters.
Afterwards, I lay gasping for air, feeling the puddle of goo in my crotch quickly grow cold.
“Ohhh…” I groaned out loud. “…that was a good one!”
I was very pleased with my new panties…they were going to give me many enjoyable nights!
When I caught my breath, I briefly thought about doing laundry; washing my sheets and crusty panties.
“Nah,” I told myself, “…tomorrow’s another day.”
It was still fairly early, but it had been a stressful and long day and I was tired.
I made sure the alarm clock was set for the right time. I never wiped my prick dry; the fragrant aroma from my sheets filled my nostrils as I fell asleep lying in a pool of cold cum.
The bus ride the next morning seemed longer than the day before. My senses were on alert. When the bus stopped where Scarface and his two thugs had gotten-off, I searched the area, but they were nowhere to be seen.
Of course not, I told myself, guys like them roamed the streets at night—they were probably just going to bed at this hour.
The workday flew-by until I opened a box of Shirley of Hollywood babydoll nighties.
Oh my God, I gasped as my hands swam in the luxuriously sexy fabric.
I began to tremble as I neatly folded them one-by-one. My prick was already throbbing in my briefs when I came upon a pink, see-thru nightie.
Oh my God—this would go great with my new panties! I told myself.
However, this time, my conscience got the better of me; my common sense, anyway.
After balling it up and seeing that it would create a noticeable bulge in my pocket, I figured the only way to get it out of the store would be to put it on under my clothes and wear it past security. I considered it, but thought it would be too risky.
I thought: I’ll just go online and buy it and have it delivered thru the mail, like I’d done with several pairs of panties.
Crammed into the bus again; barely able to breathe…the stench of human failure all around me.
A sudden and jolting stop by the bus and a hand squeezed my butt then, tried to yank my wallet out of my back pocket. I twisted and turned and swatted the hand away. Once again, I couldn’t tell who the perpetrator was.
At every stop, I stared to see who was getting onto the bus, and then I saw them.
OH MY GOD—HERE COMES SCARFACE AND HIS THUGS!!!
Scarface wore that evil grin again. He and his friends pushed their way thru the crowded bus until we were face-to-face. The people were afraid of him—they moved out of his way to let him by.
“Chica,” he grinned thru crooked teeth, “…a pleasure to see you again…us meeting like this must be fate!”
The crush of people mashed me into his chest. I held tightly to a pole, he held my hips in his hands to steady himself.
“A boy like you shouldn’t be on this bus without protection,” he said, smiled, then, added, “…I’ll protect you—perhaps we can think of a way you can repay me!”
He stood with legs wide-apart, and rocked forward and back with the motions of the bus. He held me firmly to keep his balance.
Then a strange hand on my butt again. I whipped my head around and screamed, “STOP IT!”
Scarface leaned over me, pulling me closer to him. So close, I felt his erection pressing on my belly.
He said something to someone behind me. I could hear an old man repeatedly saying “Sorry—sorry—sorry”, his pleading voice in obvious panic-mode.
It must be the old man with the missing teeth who winked at me yesterday, I concluded.
Scarface began rubbing my buttocks with his large hands; he cupped them and pulled me tight against him. I couldn’t move away. He kneaded my buttocks and rubbed his erection on my stomach.
He whispered in my ear: “I want you to follow us when we get off…there’s an alley by the bus stop…you can thank us with that pretty mouth of yours….”
The hair on my neck stood straight; a rush of fear raced thru my body. He ground his hard cock on my belly, I couldn’t for the life of me move away from him.
I remembered the day before and how long Scarface rode the bus with me. In the meantime, he held me close and continually pressed his cock against me; smiling down into my petrified face.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32