Message-ID: <32222asstr$998986201@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: caselower@hotmail.com (Lower Case) X-Original-Message-ID: <5d00828.0108270246.549e3cb1@posting.google.com> Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: 27 Aug 2001 10:46:08 GMT X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: 27 Aug 2001 03:46:08 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} "The Neighbor's Panties" - Part One Date: Tue, 28 Aug 2001 04:10:01 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: kelly, gill-bates feedback to caselower@hotmail.com --- "The Neighbor's Panties" - Part One She was folding a pair of panties. They weren't fancy panties. They were a little white cotton thong. They were flimsy, though. Skimpier than you'd expect a woman in her forties to wear. They were still snow-white. I wasn't staring intentionally, of course. I'd just always had a thing for hot older women, and she was the epitome. She was in shape -- I'd seen her at the apartment pool in a two-piece. Real smooth, tight little buns. Her breasts weren't huge, but above average, I suppose. Nice tan. Short, dark hair just starting to get a little gray. She looked her age, but she looked great for it. So she was folding her little white thong in the laundry room on our floor and I didn't realize I was staring. Not till she looked over and smiled. We'd smiled at each other before -- polite, I-know-you-live-on-this-floor-but-that's-all smiles -- and said hello a few times going in and out of the building. That was about it. I was 25. I liked to think I was decent-looking -- I usually had a girl or two to hang out with -- but I wasn't the kind of guy who'd try to approach, much less hit on, a very professional, gorgeous, fortysomething woman. But she smiled in the laundry room, and of course I blushed -- which I don't do often -- and turned my head, like I wasn't watching. She just kept folding, and when I glanced sidelong at her, she wasn't paying any attention to me. I got my first load out of the dryer and transferred my second into it. She finished folding her clothes, picked up her basket and left -- I thought. I finished with my clothes and stood up, and she was standing by the door, watching me, smiling again. Her little snow-white thong was dangling from her finger. "I have to hand-wash all my really nice pairs," she said. "So the only way anyone else could ever see them is if he came over to visit." Maybe I nodded. Probably I just stared dumbly. "In about twenty minutes?" she asked. She was playing with the panties in her hand, twirling them, rubbing them with her thumb. I think I did nod then. "Take a shower first." Then she walked out. After a dozen or so seconds had passed, I exhaled. I shook my head. I busted ass back to my apartment to get cleaned up. * * * I shaved, showered, generally cleaned up and was knocking on her door exactly twenty minutes later. She opened it. She was wearing a little creme kimono and a pair of white stiletto heels. I couldn't tell if she had anything on underneath the kimono. I felt overdressed. She smiled, ushered me in. Sat me down on her couch and offered me a glass of red wine. She poured one for each of us, then sat down on the loveseat opposite me. "I'm Linda," she said. "Jay," I replied. She nodded. I don't even know what we talked about. I know we finished the first bottle of wine and opened another. I know we didn't talk about sex at all, although my hard-on never went away. Every so often, she'd glance down the hallway behind us, down where her bedroom had to be. Then she'd smile almost devilishly and ask another innocent question. She knew she was killing me. Linda was 41. She'd been divorced for ten years, no kids. The rest of her family didn't live in California. She did some consulting work, on a freelance basis. Her ex had done pretty well, she admitted, and she'd done pretty well when they split up. She talked about it casually, unashamedly but not brazenly. "I'm a hedonist," she said. "I like to work, but I'd rather play. I can make money -- I helped him make a lot of his. Why shouldn't I let him support me? It doesn't hurt his standard of living, believe me." "A hedonist, huh?" The word was a total opening, and I took it. She nodded, leaned over and opened the drawer in her end table. She pulled out a bag of weed, glanced at me. I nodded. I was already drunk. She rolled a fat joint, lit it, sucked, and passed it to me. * * * Linda and I got nice and high. We drank a little more wine, finished the joint, and then she stood and motioned for me to follow her down the hall. She headed into her bedroom. I followed in a happy haze. I stopped dead at the door. She was standing at the end of the bed, one high-heeled foot up on it. Her kimono was hanging open, and her perfect, mouth-watering tits were in full view. Besides the robe and the heels, all she was wearing were the little white panties from the laundry room. Her bed -- huge, a California king -- though, was covered in panties. Literally dozens of colorful, frilly, flimsy, girlie undies were laid out all over it. I couldn't take my eyes off it. My cock was like a stick of hot iron. "This is my collection. I only show it to my most special friends. I ... I know you like *these*" -- she looked down at her tight white thong; she turned around and dropped the kimono off her shoulders so I could see the tiny white strip running between her asscheeks -- "but I thought you might like me to model a few more pairs?" "Uh-huh," I said. She guided me to the bed, where I made space among the piles of panties and leaned back against her pillows. She straddled me. I wanted to put my hands, my mouth on her, but I got the sense I wasn't allowed yet. She bumped and ground over my aching crotch, pushed her tits toward my face but not quite. She swiveled, got on all fours and thrust her ass out, shaking it in my face. The little white cotton strip was maybe a centimeter thick. "You like that?" she breathed. "You like that ass in your face?" "Yes," I said, croaking. My mouth was getting cottony from the pot. I watched her ass bump up and down. She thrust it back into my face. "Sniff it. Take a deep sniff," she said. I did. I got as close to her ass as I could without touching her and inhaled: She smelled musky, oily, dirty, spicy. No girl had ever let me sniff her ass like this. I couldn't get enough. I took deeper and deeper breaths. I kept reaching out to touch her -- just to touch her somewhere -- and she would lightly slap my hand. "No," she said, "keep sniffing." I did. I started to whine involuntarily -- just little moans I couldn't keep in. I sounded like an animal. I saw Linda smiling at me while I lay there, fully clothed, inhaling her ass-scent and almost yelping. It was a satisfied smile. "Bow wow," she said softly. "Bow wow...bow wow..." She almost whispered it, but she said it insistently. It turned me on so much I nearly blew in my pants. She *was* treating me like an animal -- like a pet. "Bow wow," I said. I said it quietly at first -- it felt strange. But she nodded and said, "Good..." and I got into it, sniffing her ass and almost shouting, "Bow wow! Bow wow! Bow wow!" I was going to explode. I had never been so turned on. I needed to touch my cock, if only to get it out of my pants before it made a mess. And then Linda stopped. She climbed off me, off the bed and stood there, smiling. I couldn't think. All I could say was, "Bow wow?" She nodded. "That's the first show. Pick another pair." Pick another pair. She was going to tease me like this all night long. My cock was crying for relief -- I could feel it drizzling pre-cum in my pants. I looked at all the panties surrounding me. "Pick a good pair, one that'll make you hot," she said. It was so unnecessary. But I took some time and found a trashy hot pink thong made of silk -- I like thongs. She smiled and left the room. She waited a little more than five minutes -- I watched the clock on her nightstand -- and finally returned in the pink panties, with another joint in her hand and a glass of wine. She gave both to me and then reached into the nightstand drawer. She pulled out a bottle of lubricant and dropped it on the bed next to me. "No coming," she said, and she started to dance at the foot of the bed. I smoked the joint and watched her. Eventually I pulled my shirt off, then undid my pants and pulled my cock out. She danced all around the bed. She stopped for a little while and leaned against the wall near me. Her right hand was planted in the hot pink thong, and I could see her rubbing and squeezing her pussy. She masturbated for me. I watched, rapt, trying not to touch my cock too much. It was clear she wasn't just doing this to entertain me. For a few minutes, it was all about her, fingering herself in front of a live audience. She moaned loudly. Then she looked up, smiling. My cock was purple. It hadn't been so hard in years, it seemed like. I wanted to get my pants and underwear off, but I was almost afraid to move, I was so close to coming. She lifted her left leg. Her hand wasn't in her panties anymore. She rubbed her high heel all over my face and chest while I lay there. "It's hard not to come," she said. "You want to come. You want to come, and you want to lick my high heel." I did want to lick her high heel. I took her foot gently in both hands, trying not to bump my agitated penis, and licked the white leather from the heel to the toe and back. I licked all over her shoe. She moved and pushed the heel to my lips, and I opened my mouth and fellated it. "Mmmmm..." She purred softly as if I were sucking a part of her body. I sucked and licked her white high heel, trying to get as much it into my mouth as I could, for close to ten minutes. I was still aching, but relaxed, a little. Finally she pulled the shoe from my face. "Pull your pants all the way off," she said. I did. She picked up the lubricant and popped open the cap. "Watch," she said. She held the bottle directly over my cock and let let the clear, slippery liquid ooze out all over my hard-on and balls. She was coating it. My cock got even more purple, and I was holding my breath. "Now..." she whispered. She reached down. She picked up the white thong she'd worn first and waved it in front of my face. I could see it was wet from her. I could smell her hot pussy stench on it. She waved the panties back and forth and then dropped them right onto my hot, incredibly slippery penis. At the same time, she leaned forward and pushed her tongue into my mouth. It was too much. Kissing her -- her tongue was impossibly hot -- and feeling the soft, slightly damp fabric drape itself over my gooey cock. I started blowing my load, into and all over the little white panties. --- more? drop me a line: caselower@hotmail.com -- send naughty pics and stories, too! -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+