The soaked red silk framing my pussy somehow makes it more beautifully obscene than if I were just naked. I watch in the mirror as his cock pulls out and plunges in, glossed with my wetness, my plump lips stretched around the thick shaft. It’s a mesmerizing sight, almost too arousing to handle, but I can’t look away.
Maybe the crotchless panties weren’t such a terrible idea after all.
“What are you wearing to the bar?” my best friend and fuckbuddy Tony asks. He’s called to say he’s held up at work; it’s the perfect opportunity for me to torment him.
“My new dress, my red Jimmy Choos… oh, and the crotchless panties.”
“You can’t!” he groans. “Those are for me! I mean… they’re for you, but… holy fuck, now I’m picturing you putting them on… baby please don’t…”
“But they go with my shoes!” I say, innocently.
Actually I’m lying. There’s no way I’m going out wearing crotchless panties under a dress this short, I just want to get a rise out of Tony. He bought me these bright red silk split-crotch panties a while back, and he’s been bugging me to wear them ever since.
I have steadfastly refused, initially because a girl only wears crotchless panties for one reason — easy access — and I don’t do public sex. Well, let’s be totally honest here, I do; but never premeditated. These things just seem to happen to me… So anyway, what started off as a “no way I’m riding your cock in the movie theater/club/bookstore” matter of principle has turned into a battle of wills, with me deriding the panties as low-class, slutty and trashy (and yes, on occasion I am all of these things) and Tony pretending his feelings are hurt, when really he’s just a horndog who wants to fuck whenever, wherever.
“Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” he exclaims.
“I thought you had to work? And it’s a thirty-minute drive from your office.”
“See you in twenty,” he says, hanging up.
I put on the dress, shoes and panties. They’re actually really pretty, crimson silk with gold embroidery and beading. He bought them from the lingerie store where my busty friend Polly works; no doubt she had a lot of fun helping him choose them.
I hitch up my dress in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, admiring the effect. They look like normal, sexy panties until I part my legs, and then the split becomes evident, my plump lips outlined by the silk, creamy skin in stark contrast to the vivid red. I turn around and bend over, my short dress riding up to give a perfect view, the panties riding low on my ass and then spreading to show my moistening slit. What began as a tease has become quite a turn-on. I hope Tony gets here soon.
I greet him at the front door (he made it in 22 minutes, hope he didn’t get a speeding ticket) with a chaste kiss on the lips, backing off when he tries to grab me so he gets the full impact of my sexy dress, my bare legs in high heels. I walk up the stairs ahead of him, knowing he’s hanging back, trying to get a peek up my dress.
In the bedroom, I push him into the easy chair and do a little twirl.
“Show me,” he growls, hand at his crotch, already too turned on to pretend to be casual about this.
I inch my dress up my thighs, reading the lustful expression on his face as the panties come into view. Slowly, I let my feet slide apart so the split at the crotch opens for his eager eyes.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes, gaze fixed on my pussy. “Even better than I imagined. Babe, will you… stand over me?” He sounds almost shy about asking, as if he doesn’t know I take pleasure in granting all his dirty desires.
When I nod, he moves to lie on the floor, unzipping his pants as he goes. I stand astride his face. With a groan of happy arousal he pulls his cock out and starts stroking it as I stand there above him, rocking my hips sensuously so he gets the perfect sightline up my dress to my pussy. I imagine what he can see, wetness seeping out from the groove between my lips, the split in the silk framing my sex like a target, inviting his gaze. After a while I take the dress off so I’m naked except for the panties and heels. He’s jacking off steadily.
“Sit on my face,” he says.
I crouch down, thighs spread so he sees my juiced-up cunt splayed open for him before he gets to taste it. He reaches out with his tongue, licking my clit first, then stroking all the way from my clit to my tight rosebud, painting my juices all over my slit. When he zeroes in on my clit again he makes me dance on his tongue, his hands gripping my thighs, his stiff cock bobbing to its own rhythm, unattended but still very much present at the party. I need firmer pressure and sink to my knees so I can grind on his face, rocking against him until the sensations build to a crescendo of sharp pleasure.
“Now fuck me,” I demand, knowing the bliss of getting eaten will quickly escalate to pure ecstasy with his cock inside me.
He sits on the edge of the bed so I can straddle him facing the mirror and we can watch ourselves fuck. First, I bend over in front of him so he gets to appreciate the view from the back, the red silk parting around my ass crack and pussy, dripping and spreading open from the ministrations of his tongue.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“You slutty little fuckdoll,” he says. “I bet you want to walk down the street wearing these, imagine all the guys getting a flash of your hot, wet little cunt… wishing they could bend you over and fuck you right there, they don’t even have to pull your panties down to touch you, see how wet you are…”
This is his fantasy, not mine, but it turns me on like crazy to hear him say it, knowing that even though he’s fucked me countless times I can still inspire such fiercely horny thoughts. I’m quivering with anticipation as I stroke my wet slit over the head of his cock, back and forth, teasing us both, before sinking down onto it a fraction at a time.
Tony is well hung and when he’s fully sheathed inside me I settle for a moment to accommodate to his girth stretching me open, before I start to ride. The silk is dark with my juices now, a flimsy red string encircling the captivating view of Tony’s fat dick pounding up into my pussy, turgid and shining with my wetness. The vision in the mirror is pure porno filth: his pistoning shaft spearing me, my flushed, glistening folds clinging around him. I slide up and down faster, finding the perfect angle so the head of Tony’s cock hammers my G-spot on each stroke, his fingers on my clit now, rubbing hard, just the way I like it.
Waves of arousal are pulsing through me, the heat and pressure igniting a million tiny starbursts through my synapses, setting off a wild chain reaction, and I’m cumming, bucking in his lap with his cock thrust into me to the hilt.
I shiver and shake through the aftershocks, his fingers flicking my clit to prolong and intensify them; and then I lower my feet to the floor, still impaled on his cock, and slide on and off it agonizingly slowly, so he can watch his bone disappearing into me over and over, gliding between the red silk strands and my hot pink folds, so creamy and swollen.
He can’t take too much of that before he grabs me and hauls me on top of him again, jackhammering up into me, gazing at the juncture where our slippery flesh meets. I feel his cock jump and spasm inside me as he starts to cum, and it sets off another explosion of intense pleasure within me.
When he’s done cumming he pulls out a little way so we can watch the jizz seep out of me and trickle down his shaft. I scoop some up and smear it over my pussy, fascinated by the way the wrecked panties keep my eyes fixed on the obscene picture they present.
“I’m not EVER wearing these outside the house,” I tell Tony, licking his cum from my fingers.
“I’ll do your accounts for the next year if you wear them to Angela’s cocktail party,” he says with a grin.
I’m still weighing it up…
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More confessions from me here — if you think you can handle it! Maybe take a cold shower first…