X-Archived-At: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: bannerboy1@aol.com (BannerBoy1) Subject: She's A Teaser 2-by MIKE HUNT “I often don’t, except when I know I’m going to be trying on shoes, or something. Even then, I forget sometimes. It certainly does make for an interesting time in the shoe store. Usually the guys want to help me try on 20 or 30 pairs!” She continued “But I just didn’t think how panties would look with this. And it makes the whole thing positively ugly.” I countered quickly. “I don’t really think ugly is the right word. In fact I’d have to say that the whole damn package is pretty amazing, panty lines or not.” She told me to turn my head to the left and look at the fireplace. I did as she asked, and when she told me to turn back, there were her panties draped over the back of the sofa. She stood straight in front of me, with her legs about 6” apart. “Now doesn’t that honestly look better?” she asked. My head turned from the panties on the sofa to the area where they had been just moments before and back. The dress still covered that amazing space at the juncture of her slender legs, but the knowledge that there was just one little wispy, clingy piece of cloth in the way of my view was an immense turn on. I tried to burn a hole in the cloth with my eyes. No luck. Still, depending on how she moved, I could see the occasional outline, the hint of it, really, of her pubic hair pushing out against the cloth. “Yes, that honestly looks better. Real honestly. Unbelievably honestly.” My words were getting harder and harder for me to pronounce. And other parts of my anatomy were suffering the same effect. She walked over and picked up the panties. “Here, look,” she said. You could have blown me over with a feather. How far was this going to go, I wondered. But I remembered her speech about her husband and how much in love they were and how she would never do anything to jeopardize her marriage. Well, OK. This was certainly entertainment enough. And then I remembered that her husband was out of town until Thursday. So... Anyway, she held out the panties, saying “They’re part of a matched set. Really. It’s so cute. Want to see the other half?” I readily agreed. She walked into the bedroom and returned just a moment later with a shink-wrapped package. “I thought it would be a bra,” I said. “No no no. It’s a matched set. His and hers. They were just so cute that I couldn’t resist. These are his. Go ahead, open the package. He probably won’t wear them anyway.” My fingers pried at the plastic. “Why not?”, i said. “Oh he only wears briefs, and these are boxer shorts. But I just thought the idea of the ‘His and Hers” was so cute that I had to get them. Whaddya think?” “Well I wear boxers, so I’m not prejudiced,” I started. But before I could get out another word she squealed and interrupted. “Oh you’re kidding. Oh that’s great. Would you do me the biggest favor. I mean the real biggest? Would you model them for me? Maybe that will give me some ideas on how to get John to wear them.” It was a pretty lame excuse, I thought, but hey, who was I to argue. “Ah, sure, sure. I suppose.” I stood up and went for my belt. She stopped me. “For heavens sakes, not here. Go change in the bedroom and come back out.” “Oh,” I said. “Sorry.” Guess her marriage speech was more real than I had hoped. Oh well. Just keep playing, I thought. I stepped into the bedroom, dropped my pants and my shorts. My dick jumped out at half-staff. I did my best to get into the boxers and tried to lose at least a little of my erection, and after a couple of moments succeeded in getting as comfortable as I could with a small tent sticking up in the front. “Well, are you ever coming back?” she said. Her voice was raised enough to hear clearly around the corner. “Ready or not,” I said. I walked around the corner. Her eyes rocketed to the shorts. She burst out laughing. “They’re great. Just great.” I had to say, I thought they were queer. There was a big red heart plastered on the front of them, a design I hadn’t seen when they were folded inside the shink-wrap. “Well, I think they’re a little weird,” I noted. “Why,” she asked. “Don’t you get it? See? Her heart-on.” I honestly hadn’t noticed the little “Her” embroidered above the big heart. She stabbed at the word with her finger. About 3 inches from my manhood, and closing. But it was not to be. She really was just pointing out the word on the shorts. “Here, look.” She picked up her panties again. Now I noticed the little embroidery on them, the word “His” with a picture of a cat. I wrinkled my nose. The cat was positioned right across the pubic area. “His pussy. Don’t you get it? I think it’s a riot. Her heart-on, his pussy. Oh, I just had to have them.” I let out an involuntary breath. “Oh, yea, now I get it. Pretty funny.” Where was this going? She continued, “Of course, yours aren’t always supposed to look like they do now. You know, with your boner in there, and everything.” I blushed. I flushed. She went on. “That’s OK. Really. I’ve seen a boner before. But we can cure that.” “What do you mean,” I asked. “Well, we can just wait a while. I’m sure it’ll go down if we just give it some time.” She hesitated. “Or...” “Or?” I said. “Or we can just whap Mister Wiggle there with a rolled up newspaper or something. At least I won’t be worried that you’re going to rip the material.” “Oh,” I said, involuntarily pulling my pelvis back. “I thought maybe there would be some other alternative...” I trailed off. “No,” she said. “Remember the rules. Teasing and flirting is OK. But I don’t want to do something that could affect my marriage. Remember?” “Yeah, sure. I agree. Absolutely.” I didn’t mean a word of it, but what the hell, this broad had set the rules and I was sure enjoying the game. I saw no reason to take the chance of screwing it up. “So, we’ll just wait a few minutes, and they I’ll get to see how those shorts look without the tent option.” She smiled. I smiled back. OK, what now? She said “Have a seat,” motioning me back to my narrow little hard back chair. Sitting down did nothing to disguise my condition. “I’m sure if we just wait, that ole hard-on will go away and then you can model the shorts for me again.” “This could be a long wait,” I said. As I sat there staring at her, she stepped directly in front of me and cast her eyes down at my groin. Yeah, this could take a long time, I thought. She stood facing me while holding her arms behind her, not exactly sticking her chest out, but the effect was nearly the same. She heldd her panties in her hands which were folded behind her butt. Suddenly she dropped the panties. “Oh my,” she said. And with that she turned around and bent at the waist to pick them up. Her knees were locked rigid, and as she bent over the back of the dress rode up and the full flower of her womanhood stared me in the face. “Oh my god,” I said. “What?” she asked. “You should be careful about bending over in a short skirt in front of people when you don’t have any panties on. At the party I mean, of course.” “Why?” she asked innocently. “Can you see something else that you’re not supposed to see?” She ever so slowly began to straighten up, still facing away from me. God, what an ass! “Yes, actually. I could sort of, you know, kind of see, your, ah,” “Oh here we go again,” she interrupted. “Don’t tell me you could see my pussy. Oh how embarrassing.” Needless to say, if I thought I was hard before, now I could have used my dick to pound a nail into concrete. The effect of her talking about her pussy almost made me lose it right then and there. This was just about like having a wet-dream except with your eyes open and you remember every second of it. “OK, yes, your pussy. I could see a little of your, ah, pussy.” I still wasn’t comfortable talking with this voluptuous neighbor about her pussy. But what the heck, when in Rome, I always say. “How much of it,” she wanted to know. “Well, I don’t know how to describe it, exactly.” She began to lean over again. “Well, if I bend over this far, how much can you see?” She inclined at about a 20 degree angle. -- Story Submission: Moderator Contact: Newsgroup FAQ: Archive site (could be better):