Caught Sniffing Her Panties

Reid let himself into Petra's house with the spare key and shut the door on the quiet street. He was twenty-eight. His neighbor Petra was thirty-two. She had shown up on his porch that morning with a suitcase, a blouse strained across her huge breasts, and a request he could not refuse. Check the house while she was away for the weekend. Water the plants. Make sure the doors stayed locked. He had agreed before she finished talking.

He did the chores the way she had asked. The fern in the kitchen got a full can of water. The back door was locked. The front deadbolt held. He could have left then. The hallway smelled like her perfume, warm and sweet, and her bedroom door stood open at the end of it. He told himself he was only checking the window latch.

The top drawer of her dresser was not closed. A strip of pink lace hung over the edge, fine enough that the light went through it. Reid stopped. His pulse kicked hard. He pulled the drawer open the rest of the way and looked down at a careful stack of panties, black, red, ivory, and the pink pair that had escaped, a tiny bow stitched at the front. He picked them up. The fabric slid through his fingers like water. He lifted them to his face and breathed in, soap and skin and something that was only her, and his cock thickened so fast it hurt against his zipper.

He closed the bedroom door. His shoes came off. His jeans and boxers followed, kicked into a heap on her rug. He stepped into the panties anyway. Lace climbed his calves, caught, stretched. When the silky crotch dragged over his cock he hissed through his teeth. He tugged the waistband up until it sat low on his hips and the pink panel had nowhere to go but tight across his erection. The head pushed at the delicate weave. A dark wet spot spread. He faced her mirror and stared at himself, bare chest, neighbor's panties, cock throbbing inside lace that belonged between her thighs. Every breath rubbed silk along his shaft. He shifted his weight and the friction made his knees loosen. He did it again, slower, and precum slicked the inside of the crotch until the drag turned obscene. He could not make himself stop.

The front door opened downstairs.

Reid went still. Keys clattered on the entry table. Heels struck the hardwood, quick and familiar, and Petra's voice came up the stairs bright as noon.

"Reid? You still here? They canceled my flight. I'm home early."

He lunged for his jeans and knocked them farther under the bed. The bedroom door swung wide before he could cover himself.

Petra stood in the doorway in a travel dress that clung to her waist and did nothing to hide the weight of her breasts. Her suitcase handle was still in one hand. She saw the mirror, the heap of his clothes, and him, bare, flushed, her tight pink panties stretched around a throbbing erection, the lace gone dark where he had leaked through it.

Silence held for one heartbeat.

Then she smiled. Not shocked. Seductive, slow, the kind of smile that knew exactly what it was looking at. She set the suitcase down and closed the door behind her.

"Well," she said, and her eyes stayed on the bulge fighting her underwear. "Look at the naughty panty-sniffer I left in charge of my house."

Reid's face burned. "Petra, I swear I was only—"

"You were only standing in my bedroom with my favorite panties on your cock." She crossed the carpet. "Did you sniff them first?"

He could not get a lie out. She saw the answer and laughed, low and pleased.

"Of course you did." She stepped in until her breasts pressed against his bare chest, heavy and soft, nipples already tight through the thin fabric. The contact knocked the air out of him. Her hand slid down his stomach, unhurried, and cupped him through the lace. She squeezed. Then she stroked, one long pass from the base of his cock to the leaking head, silk dragging under her palm. His hips jerked. A rough sound broke out of his throat.

"Sensitive," she murmured against his jaw. She stroked him again, slower, tracing the thick shape of him where the pink panel strained. "Walking around next door dreaming about this. About my panties on you."

"Yes."

"Good." She pressed closer. Her huge tits flattened against him, a soft overwhelming weight, and she kept her hand moving, thumb circling the wet spot over his slit until the lace clung and every stroke made him throb. His hands hovered. She caught one and set it on her waist. "You can touch me. You took care of the house. Let me take care of this."

He gripped her hip. She worked him in short, maddening strokes through the panties, never quite enough, her massive breasts rubbing his chest each time she shifted. She squeezed his cock and held, feeling him pulse in her fist, then dragged her nails lightly over the lace until he shuddered and cursed. She stroked him slower still until both of them were panting, foreheads nearly touching, her hand a warm relentless pressure and his cock aching so hard the lace creaked.

"Petra."

"I know." Her smile was filthy. "I'm not done teasing you."

She stepped back. The loss of her hand made him groan. Petra reached for the zipper of the travel dress and drew it down, eyes on his cock the whole time, still tenting her pink lace. The dress slid off her shoulders and pooled at her feet.

Under it she wore the matching set. A lace bra the same flushed pink, cups overloaded by her huge tits, and panties cut high on her wide hips, the front panel already a shade darker. She turned once, slow, so he could see the curve of her ass and the way the lace vanished between her cheeks, then faced him again and reached back. The bra clasp opened. She shrugged it off and let her breasts spill free, heavy and full, dark nipples tight in the warm air. She cupped them, lifted, let them drop, and the soft bounce made his cock jump against the ruined panties.

"You went through my drawer," she said. "So you get to look at all of it." She hooked her thumbs in her own panties, tugged them down an inch, then left them on. "These stay. I want them pulled aside while I ride you."

She put a hand on his chest and pushed. Reid went down on the bed, back to the comforter, cock straining upward. Petra climbed over him. Her breasts swayed, brushed his mouth, and she settled her weight across his hips. She reached between them, yanked her panties to the side, and hooked a finger in his, dragging the soaked crotch off his shaft. His cock sprang free, flushed, shining at the tip. She wrapped her fist around it, stroked twice, bare skin now, hotter than the lace, and lined him up.

"You want this," she said. It was not a question.

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

She sank down.

Tight slick heat took him inch by inch. Reid's head hit the pillow. Petra's mouth fell open, a low moan rolling out of her as she took him to the root and sat there, stuffed full, huge tits heaving, lace bunched at her hip. For a second she only breathed, cunt fluttering around him. Then she rolled her hips. The grind was deep and filthy. Her clit dragged over his pubic bone. The stretched waistband of his panties rasped his balls every time she circled.

She rose until just the head stayed inside and dropped, ass slapping his thighs, and did it again, harder. Her breasts bounced. He caught them, palms full of soft weight, thumbs on her nipples, and she moaned louder and rode him with intent, hands braced on his chest, hair sticking to her neck.

"That's it," she panted. "Thrust up. I want to feel you working for it."

He planted his feet and drove up into her. The angle punched a cry out of her. She ground down to meet him, circling, chasing friction, the wet sound of it loud in the quiet house. Sweat gathered between her breasts. He watched his cock disappear into her, shiny with her, both pairs of pink lace twisted and damp where they were joined. She rode faster. The headboard tapped the wall. He leaned up and sucked a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking, and she grabbed his hair and fucked herself on him like she meant to use every inch.

"You feel how wet I am?" she gasped. "That's from catching you in my panties. You nasty little housesitter."

"Don't stop. Ride me."

She did, harder, the bed creaking. Her massive breasts swung against his chest. His hands slid to her ass, gripped, and helped her slam down. Every thrust shoved a broken moan out of both of them. The room smelled like sweat and sex. Reid was close, balls tight, the drag of lace around his thighs a dirty extra, and he held on.

She lifted off with a wet sound that made them both curse.

"Behind me," she said, breathless. "I want you pounding it."

She got on all fours at the edge of the mattress, back arched, ass up, cheek pressed to the comforter. Her panties were still on, yanked aside, cunt glistening, the pink lace cutting into one cheek. Reid knelt behind her. He gripped her hips, lined up, and pushed in with one long stroke. Petra moaned into the sheets. He pulled almost out and slammed home. Skin slapped. She pushed back, greedy, and he set a hard rhythm, fucking her from behind, watching her ass shake.

"Harder," she said. "You sniffed my panties and got hard in them. Fuck me like you meant it."

He gave it to her. Deep, rough, the bed frame knocking the wall, sweat dripping onto the small of her back. One hand stayed locked on her hip. The other reached around, found her clit, swollen and slick, and rubbed in tight circles while he pounded into her. Petra's arms nearly buckled. She dropped to her elbows and the new angle let him hit deeper. She clenched around him so hard his vision blurred.

"Right there. Don't stop rubbing. Don't you stop fucking me."

He didn't. He drove into her and worked her clit, both of them sweaty and loud and completely willing, her soaked panties a filthy twist at her hip, the pair around his thighs dragging his balls with every thrust.

Petra came first. Her cunt clamped down and fluttered, a raw cry torn into the sheets, hips jerking against his fingers. Reid fucked her through it, and the squeeze dragged him over. He slammed deep and stayed there, grinding, and came with a broken groan, pulsing thick and hot inside her while she milked every spurt. He pulled out slow. Cum leaked from her onto the bunched pink lace.

Petra rolled onto her back, huge breasts heaving. She sat up, grabbed him by the hair, and kissed him deep, tongue pushing into his mouth, filthy and claiming. When she pulled back there was no softness left in her smile.

"Thanks for taking such good care of my house," she said. She peeled the ruined panties off his thighs, held them up so he could see the cum soaking the lace, and dropped them in his hand. "Keep these. Your reward for housesitting."

Reid's cock twitched in the open air, spent and already thickening again at the filthy picture she painted. She watched it happen and smirked, breasts still bare, cum slick on her fingers. She wiped those fingers across the pink lace in his fist, marking it, then shoved his hand down so the wet crotch pressed his still-sensitive cock. She spread her thighs and pushed two fingers through the mess still leaking out of her cunt.

"Next time you housesit, I'm going to walk in, shove those cum-soaked panties in your mouth, and ride your cock until you pump another load in me."