Episode 6
Adventures in Pantyland

Wet and Wilde

Climbing down the ladder in the arms of the man of my dreams, completely naked should provide some sort of erotic (I've never done this before) thrill but it doesn't. My unbrushed teeth and growling tummy seem to be the predominant sensations.

"Let's go inside" I snip at Garlemon as we hit the ground. "I'm dying for a chair."

I have to refrain from slamming the door behind me, leaving my poor dream-boat outside. I want the weirdness to go away and I want some goddamn privacy.

Ha! Good luck.

"Surprise!" Pasha sings, standing in the foyer, arms outstretched towards me holding a red silk robe and pair of ruffled pink panties. She's not alone. A tall man with page boyish dark hair and old fashioned clothes (yes he's dressed!) stands to her right and on her left leaning against the wall, like she's posing for a beatnik poster, stands a large squat woman. Her face is familiar, very masculine with short hair and a look of smarts that intimidates me.

Meanwhile, I'm still naked, remember? And I've never been a big one for public nudity. I skipped all those let's go skinny dipping romps in the river with my young college friends. I refused to play strip poker even when I was drunk out of my mind. So here I am in front of a pantheon of goddesses, archetypes, and strangers nude as can be.

"I'll take those," I say as I lunge towards the not-my-style Victoria Secret-ish sexy lingerie. Awkwardly, with deliberate un-lady-like clumsiness, I grapple with putting them on. First I get the panties on wrong and then the robe's belt keeps slipping out of my fingers. The time it takes to get myself "decent" is a pause I relish. No graceful surprises can interrupt my irritable couture.

"So" Pasha giggles as I finish up, her shell blue toe nails pattering with anticipation. "These are some people I'd like you to meet."

"Gertrude" the familiar woman steps towards me with no smile, her hand outstretched to shake. I hesitate a moment, trying to place her. As her hands grabs mine, the horror of who she might be hits me.
"As in Stein?" I ask, hoping I made a joke.

"Yes" she smiles now, gesturing towards the tall man "and this, my lovely, is Oscar."

My robe slips open, damn silk, I never liked it.

"Wilde, I suppose."

Tipping his hat Oscar comes forward saying, "My dear, who else?"

He lifts with careful hands my fallen robe and fastens me again, never turning his gaze away.

I blush! A flood of lust soils my silken panties.