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Episode
9
Adventures
in Pantyland
Arousing
Suspicion
Red
buttocks high, wishing it would never end, and hoping no one
will ever know. I wait, the faint movement of air in the living
room tickling the raw skin of my bottom ever increasing my
anticipation.
"Ta,
Ta darling" Oscar bids farewell, as he deftly swivels
out from under me and slaps his hands together as if washing
his hands of the whole nasty business. I had no idea one could
be so debonair about spanking a grown woman. His composure
has me yearning all the more for the indifferent air with
which he punished me.
But
alas, he is out of the living room and soon after out of the
house back into the mysteries of time. Pasha pats my bum lightly
(far too lightly) suggesting without words that clothes are
due. I get up quite red in the face with the shame of it all,
awkwardly trapped by the half-mast panties just above my knees.
I pull them up, discreetly relishing the cold of the silk
against my sensitized rear and general proximity.
"That
a girl" I vaguely hear Pasha whisper under her breath,
not sure if it’s to my embarrassed pleasure or my swift
dressing.
My robe retrieved and knotted tight, Pasha takes me in her
dewy hands and leads me up the stairs to my bedroom where
all this nonsense began in the safety of my dreams.
All
the intense restructuring of reality tires me out. My body
is electric with sex and worn with brain overload. I have
never been more willing to let someone take me where they
will. Either I’m broken or it’s my fantasy come
real.
"There,
there my dear. It’s no matter. I’ll take you to
your life again. A changed woman. An honest woman." Pasha
sings to me as a mermaid.
She
holds me close, her magnetic skin calling to mine through
my robe. We dance cheek to cheek in my small bedroom. The
straw rug deliciously biting at my soles as she leads me with
her slender frame from one wall and back.
My
eyes close and her natural smell has me near swooning. Music
from an aching violin fills my ears. Garlemon, true man of
my dreams, hovers in the doorframe playing his instrument
with a scant brief barely covering his eagerness. My eyes
open, his bow moving upward and Pasha lets me slip to the
floor. My passion so aroused I no longer need her encouragement
or subtle arousal.
Garlemon
lays the violin on my velvet chair, atop a pile of dirty underpants
long waiting laundry day.
"I’d love to do your handwash" Garlemon chuckles
as he presses himself on top of me pushing my body hard into
the rough straw carpet.
"while
you sleep!" he continues cooing in my ear till I all
but scream with the awakening in my panties.
"Night,
night" I hear Pasha whisper like a delicate splash of
river spray as it rushes by a large rock.
"Mmmmm"
is all I emit and then they’re all gone. Sleep washes
over.
I am dreaming. It is morning. I get up and go downstairs.
The house is empty. I open the fridge and grab the rice dream.
I take my cereal out of the pantry and a bowl and spoon.
"Gosh
I’m hungry."I say in garbled inner dream speak.
I vaguely know I am dreaming. Must be just slipping in. Suspiciously
monotonous here. No secret doors or lovers waiting.
I pull my finger round the side of the leg elastic on my underpants;
they’re giving me a wedgie. Feels uncomfortable and I
fix it.
A momentary thought wafts in. a dull dream…like regular
life. Disappointing.
I
shake my head to make the thought fly away. And a drop of
water shudders me a wake.
Garlemon
is hanging my freshly washed panties on a newly strung line
across the bedroom ceiling. Drips of water drop on my now
(once again) naked body.
"Well,
love." Garlemon quips, You gotta have breakfast somewhere
and its not going to be here!" he leans over and kisses
the drops of water on my body.
"If
you’re hoping for a shower or a toothbrush kitten it
won’t going to happen till beddy by"
Pasha’s
rippling laugh carries on the laundry soap scented air, as
she flies, melts (who knows) down the stairs.
"Welcome
to the real world" are the last words I hear before Garlemon
pulls down his briefs and horns shoot out of his delicious
curly head.
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