A Memory

In our home, all the bedrooms have en suite bathrooms, apart from on the very top floor where there are two bedrooms and one adjoining bathroom between them. One year, while there was remodelling work going on on our bedroom floors, Ali and I decamped to the top floor. Mum and dad used the den as a bedroom for the four weeks the builders were doing their thing. (Individually controlled under-floor heating, and new hardwood flooring.)

Ali had a friend from school round. Oh, he wasn’t a ‘boyfriend’ as such, but, as it turned out, there was a little kissing going on, and Ali told me years later that she used to let him touch her boobs over her clothes, and a couple of times, she let him touch her panties and she touched his dick through his jeans. Very daring for my sister! 

So, one Monday, after I got home from school mum was waiting for me. Ours is a very large home, and to catch someone coming in, well, you have to be ready for them. She wasn’t angry, but she said she wanted to talk so we went into the den (their temporary bedroom) and locked the door. 

Mum asked me outright if I was having sex. My heart was racing, and for a moment I thought “having sex” included with myself. Fuck! Mum knows I’ve been masturbating. I stammered the most stupid come back of all time. “How do you mean?” Oh for fucks sake! “How do you mean?” You stupid lame bitch! Anyway...

Mum smiled and said, “Please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. I know you masturbate, and that’s just fine, it’s good...healthy...that you explore yourself, but these...(she opened her hand and revealed a pair of my undies)...these have more than vaginal wetness on them. They have semen in the crotch. If you’re having sex, I need to know you’re doing it safely.”

Wow! No anger! No “For FUCKS sake! You’re only 14!” And since mum is more of a Catholic than any of us, I would have thought she’d have gone ballistic, but this was not that. This was simply concern that I was safe. 

Thing is, I wasn’t having sex. Oh, I had in my mind, of course! Miss Brain had supplied me with many “I’m being fucked” scenarios, but at 14, my hymen was still a thing of beauty. So, I reassured her that no, I wasn’t having sex. Then she asked another question. “Are you letting a boy masturbate into your panties while you hold the front forward?” (Huh? Ohh. THAT sounds fun...file away for later.) Again, another no. 

She didn’t even question me. She simply believed what I told her. But it didn’t answer the question of why my panties were full of semen. I asked her how she knew it was semen, and she said, “Well, there’s a lot more here than just your usual vaginal wetness." (I hadn’t learned to squirt then, and although I got very wet, it was nothing like the flood I get these days.) "And also, of course, it smells of semen. Here. See for yourself. I assume you know what your own scent smells like?” She held them out to me and I could see instantly the mess in the crotch, even though it had dried by now. I took them and gave a quick inhale. My head swam as, for the first time, I breathed in the heady, strong scent of spunk! “And...and well, this is far from the first time I have found semen in your panties.” 

So, now we sat there and the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place. Who had access to my panties? No boy as far as I was concerned. (Unfortunately) So how....oooohhh .... obviously....., the laundry hamper in our shared bathroom. It hadn't happened before we started sharing a bathroom. Ali’s panties had never had semen in them, so he must have been deliberately seeking out mine. How would he know whose was whose? Easy enough. All Ali’s have a small A written on the label...helps when sorting washing after each load. So do our bras, although that’s not needed as much..Ali has B cup bras, while mine....oh, let’s not go there. 

A brief image popped into my head of him standing in the bathroom, dick out and hard, a pair of panties in each hand, wondering whose was whose. Maybe he smelled them, trying to determine a difference in our scents. Then, he noticed that small A, and smiled to himself as he realised it would be easy to find mine.

So, now we knew who was masturbating into my undies, and mum’s attention immediately switched to whether Ali was in line for getting hurt. 

Me? I scuttled off back to my bedroom, and locked the door, and sat on the bed to process all this. A boy. A real, live boy who barely spoke to me, was using my panties...MY panties to masturbate into. Was he just feeling them? Maybe smelling them? Maybe tasting me? Maybe he held them to his nose until the last moment, and then held them out on front of his dick as he came into them? Maybe he wrapped them round his dick...or...or maybe he liked watching as his semen pumped out onto my cum stains and slowly soaked in on top of my cum stains.

....and speaking of soaked....I realised that I was. Soaked, I mean! I had taken my panties from mum with my left hand and run my thumb across the sticky mess, so, right hand in panties, thumb up to nose. Semen DOES smell strange, doesn’t it? A sort of flat scent, and maybe slightly like when it rains after a long dry spell, you know that metal sort of smell? 

Anyway, my clit was like a bullet, and it didn’t take long for a cum to appear on the horizon. Miss Brain added one simple instruction. “Go on....suck your thumb.” So, sitting on the edge of my bed, knees wide apart, hand jammed into my panties, I sucked my thumb....

.....and came hard. Quite the strongest orgasm I’ve had so far. I was to learn, years later, that what I tasted that day was nothing like when a boy cums in your mouth, but hey, it was a start, right? 

Ali’s male friend stopped coming round soon after. I never found out why, but it didn’t seem to bother Ali very much. As far as I know, Ali never knew what Stephen was doing with my undies, but remember, at 14, I already knew the power of my body when, with friends at school, we flashed our panties deliberately. Now, I had another example of the power of my body. A boy WANTED my scent...he actually sought it out. 

When we moved back into our respective rooms, I realised that I had two pairs of panties missing. That made me feel great! Oh I’m sure they were from one of my super wet days, but the scent wouldn’t last forever, and soon he would just have some dry, odourless panties to hold and imagine, but, the thing is, they were MY panties, and the stains in them, and the scent were from MY body, and they made him cum! 

How powerful is that? 

(Anyway, I couldn’t be cross with him, as at that age I was using other girls’ undies to make myself cum in the girls’ locker room.)