Oh, Hormonal Me.

…but it clearly mattered to her. No matter what I said, all it did was to make her more resolute that no, nothing would be happening today. I pushed it too far…there will need to be some damage control done there later. 

So, she left to do the shopping. No ordering online for her. She much prefers to take a morning, visit the local farm shops and by the freshest produce possible…and it shows in the meals she prepares. I’m going to look like a house in a couple of months anyway, so I figure I’m eating for two now…(yes, I know that’s a fallacy.) 

The utility room is a place of fascination for me. Our whole home is controlled by computer, and down here is something called a ‘server’, plus other bits and pieces…I think I heard the word modem mentioned once or twice. Anyway, there’s lots of flashing lights, and the thing takes up a floor-to-ceiling rack. Sometimes, I come down here just to watch the lights. I find them hypnotising and I wonder what the various things in the cabinet are saying to one another…yes, I know, sad isn’t it? 

But it’s also where the laundry is. There are three of us in the house, and with me leaking like the Titanic, I get through three, four or even five pairs of panties a day. Dani gets through two, I’ve worked out. Emily can manage with one pair, unless I’ve made love to her or got her turned on in which case she’s a two-pair girl as well. So, there’s a daily undies wash. Two laundry hampers, one filled more than the other which is ours, and one smaller one, Dani’s. 

And it was on top of hers that I found the cutest pair of white, bikini-style panties with a tiny, contrasting navy blue bow on the waistband at the front. My mind has been crazy just lately. Miss Brain can change direction like a Jack-knifing lorry. I picked them up and with no warning whatsoever, I had an image of the 15 year old Dani. Tall for her age, and could easily pass for older if she wanted to. She has told me that her boobs came in late and at 15, she was only a ‘b’ cup…if that. I imagined her in her grey school skirt, her flat belly beneath is, perhaps with just a gentle swell, her school shirt tucked in and her breasts just making themselves known. 

Dani, walking home after a long day, in these panties. As white as she is virginal, and then Miss Brain wormed her way into the young Dani’s mind. As she walked home, had she felt that familiar slickness between her legs? Had her nose wrinkled slightly? Maybe she tried to ignore it until she got to her room. Short off and in the laundry, a new shirt already hung up for the next day. Skirt off and folded neatly. Bra off, and then shoes and socks. Panties next. Immediately the crotch was freed, she would look, as we all do. Then one leg at a time, off. 

Did she hold them in her hand and look at the wetness? Maybe she even brought it to her face and breathed herself in. The fresh, musky scent speaking of her readiness, her arousal. Had she become aware, at that moment, that yes, she did feel aroused, and did the arousal bring with it more arousal? Perhaps her clit had jumped making her gasp. Did she stand, her panties in her hand and gaze at herself in the mirror, perhaps turning this way or that, noting her recently acquired curves of her hips, perhaps the profile of her bum, her boobs, of course, the neat triangle of hair between her legs, and standing there, her white panties in her hand, had she felt the gentle kiss of arousal over her body? 

I held her panties to my face and breathed in deeply. Oh, I know she’s no longer a virgin, but these reminded me of my locker room exploits. Dani’s natural scent is inviting, yet there’s a purity about it, an innocence. 

How I got my own panties off, I really don’t recall, but Miss Brain was obviously in control. My skirt lay in a crumpled heap around my feet and I stood with my legs slightly parted. My eyes were fixed on Dani’s hamper. There were many pairs of panties, some of which I could clearly see the stains in the crotch. As for the pair in my hand, I positioned them carefully so my finger was behind the crotch and I could press Dani’s sexual cream against my clit. 

I don’t suppose this will resonate with straight women out there, but touching another girl’s wetness against one’s clit is highly erotic. I would use Dani’s cream to bring myself to orgasm, then at the moment of release, I would hold the material firmly between my legs and cum into her panties. 

As my arousal built, her panties in the hamper told their own story. Here, a pair lightly stained, that she had only walked around in. There, another pair, more heavily stained….arousal, then? And there a pair where the staining looked heavy and haphazard. The kind of distribution you get when you’ve masturbated in your panties, fingers on the outside, and have used the friction of the material to get the job done. The centre of the crotch heavily creamed, but also staining right at the leg holes too. They told their own story. And over there, balled up in the corner…the pair,  the ones she had worn when she was visited by The Lovely Chris. These didn’t had just Dani in them. There was semen there too.

I almost missed it. The orgasm hit me so fast I barely had the presence of mind to cup my crotch with her undies. I felt the wetness spread and escape the material into my cupped hand, and drip through my fingers. I had to hold one of the hampers to prevent myself from falling. My cums make me light headed these days, when I have them standing up, yet having an orgasm standing is a whole new world.

Stop press.