It’s Not a Fetish

Temmuz 28, 2022 0 Yazar: admin

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I tried to look away, I really tried, but my eyes kept sneaking between my best friend’s legs. She had slumped back in the comfy chair, her legs pulled up, her knees slightly splayed, and beneath the hem of the white nightie I could glimpse the neon green yumminess of her thong crying out at me. I took another glance while she told me something about one of our classmates. Yes, it was a unicorn, small and cute and done in orange stitching, that sat right in the middle of Alice’s crotch. They were magnificent. I prayed that she was done talking soon, because the longer she did, the harder it became to pay attention, with the green object of desire so blatantly displayed in my line of vision. * * * * * No, really, it’s not a fetish that I have. I simply adore pretty panties and I love the soft, velvety feeling when the fabric slides over my bum and my shaved pussy lips. I’m a connoisseur of shiny colors, and there’s something so sexy when the string of a thong nestles in between my bum cheeks and keeps reminding me that there is nothing but one thin layer of cloth protecting my naked backside from the looks of everyone around me. I almost start to drool when I see a fine pair of panties in a display window, these little things of almost-see-through cuteness, with their bows and frills and tiny prints. I can appreciate all kinds of panties, thongs, boy shorts, briefs, and straight cotton ones as much as frilly things. It’s about quality, about the feeling it leaves on your skin and about the imagination of their creator. Am I a closet exhibitionist as well? Perhaps. But who cares? Panties are an expensive hobby, though, something I quickly learned. They drain your allowance faster than you can say “soaked crotch”. Panties thus were the reason why you could find my sixteen year old self standing down on Salisbury Road in front of lingerie stores every other day, be it sunny or raining or having snowstorms, with a blissful, yearning expression on my face and my body tense from the force it took to withstand the magic pull. It’s not something I talk about, not even to my best friends, and I used to feel safe with my little secret. Until that fateful week I spent at Alice’s place, that is. * * * * * Alice was my best friend, my confidante in everything that didn’t mention panties, my role model and my constant companion since we found out that she was exactly five minutes older than me. She was also a bit of a spoilt princess. Her dad earned well – that’s how she used to put it, but in truth he was filthy rich – and travelled most of the time, making up for his extended absences with regular gifts and a huge allowance. Her stepmom was into fitness and yoga and clothes and more often than not away with her gaggle of friends, leaving the house to Alice and the maid. Yes, they even had a maid! More of a housekeeper, in fact. She was Mexican, always wore black dresses and almost bubbled over with enthusiasm when she talked. It was Easter week, and my parents, both teachers at a grammar school, had decided to go on a one-week trip to Iceland, something like a second honeymoon. Alice’s bahis siteleri dad, Mr. Preston, was away for the whole week overseeing a company merger, whatever that exactly meant. Lucy, her stepmom, only tended to show up for dinner, and so Alice and I were enjoying having free run of the house. It was already ten in the morning, but we were still in our night clothes, seeing that there was nobody there to nag us about it. I had curled up on the couch while Alice had taken up residence in her favorite plush chair. “…that Becky-Anne is a lesbian!” My mind had drifted to god knows where, but her voice pulled me back into the present. “Sorry. I was zoning out. What did you just say?” I sat upright. She made an exasperated gesture. “I don’t know why I’m talking to you, really. I could just as well tell it the wall. Well, here we go again. You know Robyn, she’s in maths with us?” I nodded, recalling the lanky redhead with the slightly alternative clothes style. “Well, Celia caught them in the locker room way after phys ed, and you won’t believe what she saw!” Alice’s body moved a lot when she spoke, which made the neon green object of envy appear to jiggle between her legs. I felt my cheeks redden and swallowed. “What did she see?” She bent forward, her voice dropping to little more than a whisper. “She thought she heard someone crying, but when she peeked into the dressing room, Becky-Anne was licking Robyn’s snatch! Can you believe that? It’s what Celia said, that Robyn was sitting on one of the benches completely starkers and Becky-Anne was kneeling in front of her, her head between her thighs, and bobbing up and down while Robyn was moaning.” “Eww.” I made a face. “That’s gross!” She looked at me with a calculating gaze. “Are you sure?” “What do you mean?” Something in her grin was a bit off. “Perhaps you’re a bit of a lesbian yourself. You’ve been staring between my legs all morning.” My heart started to beat faster. I sent back a slightly overenthusiastic laugh. “That’s a good one. But what happened then?” Alice’s eyes narrowed, which was never a good sign. When she slowly stood from the chair, with that feline elegance that doing yoga with her stepmom had given her, I knew that trouble was brewing on the horizon. She stepped around the coffee table and in front of me, and my heart almost stopped when put one foot onto the armrest of the couch and pulled up the hem of her nightie. I really tried to look at her face. But now these pretty, green panties were just two feet from my eyes, bright and neon colored and looking incredibly soft. My cheeks started to burn when I could finally muster the self-control to look up. “You did it again.” She regarded me quizzically. “I think you are a lesbian.” “Stop it!” I croaked. “I’m – I’m not a lesbian. That’s not funny!” “You’ve been staring at my crotch all day. Why would you do that if you’re not a dyke?” “Alice! Please!” But instead of relenting, she had to tease me some more, and when her fingers stroked over her crotch and her pink nails contrasted so nicely with the green and orange, I felt a small shudder race through canlı bahis siteleri my body and my breath hitched. She giggled. “You are a lesbian. I knew it!” She moved even closer, and I could hear the rush of my blood in my ears. “You want to touch it, don’t you?” “Yes!” The moaned syllable left my lips before I could think about them. “No! I mean, it’s not what you think!” I wanted a hole to open up and swallow me. Sadly, that did not occur. Instead, Alice climbed onto the couch and put her knees right and left of my legs. I felt like a cornered animal and started to tremble. We had been best friends for ages, but something was shifting in our dynamics. Sex, besides the usually joking, had never been much of a topic of discussions between us. But now, with her accusing me to be a lesbian and my naughty secret on the line, she made me want to squirm and hide. “What is it then?” She knew she had me trapped. I stared at her face, frightened out of my mind and biting my lip so hard it hurt. Her answering look was both questioning and filled with something deeper that I couldn’t grasp. What could I do? Let myself be considered a lesbian, a dyke, by my best friend? Or confess my real object of my captivation. “It’s,” my voice shook and I had to look away, “it’s the panties. They are so pretty and soft.” There it was. She threw back her head and laughed. “My panties? You think you can tell me that you’ve been ogling me like that because you like my panties? Oh, come on!” “It’s the truth!” I wanted to cross my arms in front of me and pout, but I would inevitably touch her by doing so. I wondered how that was somehow important. We used to touch each other all the time, cuddling in front of the telly and wrestling around for fun. “You’ve got to believe me!” “Really? I have to?” She studied me intensely. “Let me run a small test. I’ll be right back.” I wanted to let out a sigh of relief when she jumped from the couch and crossed the room towards her dresser, but something told me she wasn’t done. My heart started to thump again when she opened the middle drawer, and before I knew it, she was back, one arm behind her back and a devious little smirk on her lips. “Let’s put the theory to the test,” she declared, mimicking the favorite phrase of our physics teacher. “Look closely!” She brought her hand in front of her with agonizing slowness, but when I saw the object it held, all my thoughts flew out the window. What I encountered were pale pink panties so delicious that my skin started to tingle from just looking at them. At first I thought the crotch area was made of incredibly supple leather, but at second glance I realized it was artfully woven fabric, shimmering in the light. The black cat’s paw print on the crotch was the epitome of cuteness, and the thin waistband in a darker pink with the tiny bows at the sides almost made me drool. “God. They’re so cute!” My hand shot out, but I hesitated at the last minute. “Can I?” My voice was almost a whine and my fingers trembled. “Go on,” Alice urged, “touch it.” I did. My fingertips stroked lovingly over the material canlı bahis and I gasped. Goosebumps rose on my skin when they encountered the softest, smoothest panties I had ever touched, and an incredible warmth spread in my tummy. I traced them along the seams and felt for the non-existent bumps of stitching. This wasn’t clothing, this was art! “Oh my god!” Alice’s voice broke through my entranced state, but I kept fingering the fabric. “You’re really that much into panties, aren’t you?” I nodded, afraid that my voice would fail me and filled with trepidation about her reaction to that discovery. She crouched down. Her head was level with mine, but she didn’t move her hand away, so I kept on stroking. “Do you want to have them?” “Have them?” My head shot up. “I mean – could I – really?” My breath started to fly at the thought of owning them, of feeling this creation of wonder against my very skin. “Not for free, but I might let you have them.” “Alice.” My heart plummeted, and I almost sobbed. “You know I don’t have money, I…” “Silly you. I wasn’t talking about money.” “But – then what…” I began to feel dizzy, my emotions tumbling over each other. “I was thinking,” she looked deeply into my eyes, “that you could make up for it if you model them for me for the next hour.” “Model?” “Yes. I want to see how they look on you. Just a little posing, you know. I tell you how to stand and move.” Her request was strange. I wondered what she would get out of that. But then my eyes fell on the pink fabric in her hand again. I’d model them all day long for her, I realized, if I could only have them. “Okay.” “Brilliant!” I froze, my hand resting on the panties. “Go on,” she urged, “take them and put them on.” The warm wave of joy that washed through my body when I picked up the panties was indescribable. “Mine.” For a tiny, depraved, hilarious moment I felt like Sméagol from the Lord of the Rings, but I reigned in my giddy joy in time before I could whisper, “my precious!” We both stood up, but when I started to head towards the bathroom, Alice’s hand on my arm stopped me. “Where are you going?” “Uhm, changing into the panties?” I yearned to feel the fabric on me, and I think I sounded impatient. “Change here. I want to watch.” “But – but I’ll be naked down there!” “Oh come on, we’re both girls. And pulling them on is a big part of their aesthetics.” She looked long and hard at me. “Or are you a lesbian? Does it bother you to be naked for that reason?” I quickly shook my head. Sometimes I hated how easy it was for her to steer me into the direction she wanted. But she was also a brilliant friend, always there when I needed to let off steam, always able to pull me out of the holes I fell into. I started to pull down my own panties, embarrassing plain white cotton briefs off the shelf in the supermarket, but her hand stopped me again. “I’ll not be able to see much while you’re wearing your nightie.” I blushed, but it made sense. My fingers gripped the hem, and before I could think too much about what I was doing, I pulled it over my head and threw it onto the couch. We had closed shower cubicles with their own dressing alcoves at school, so we had never seen each other completely naked. “You’ve got pretty little tits.” My skin prickled from the blush that spread over my chest. “Thank you.” My voice was quiet.

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