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Panties for Sale? Chapter 2

This is NOT my story. This was written by Werner7890 and originally posted on another site. I hope you enjoy the story.

Panties for Sale? Chapter 2

Dark gray french lace panties. Cotton. Easily my favorite pair.
I shook my head in disbelief once more and lay back, happily fisting them around my cock. I lay on my bed quite content with an arm behind my head and my boxers around my knees, again reliving what had happened to me. It was such a thrill to think about her and look down and see her panties wrapped around my cock.

Such a thrill to know where they had been. What they held. Even after doing it no less than sixteen times these past two weeks, a surprise in itself, it was amazing how it felt.
The memory of her was so vivid.

I let go out of my cock, rolling onto my side and sorting through the other odd pairs within reach. I had strewn them out over my bed and never tired of admiring them like this.
I held up a small red thong. The thongs gave a little trouble. They didn’t have enough fabric for true coverage but I was content to press them to my lips, again reveling in where they had been.

I felt like such a pervert but I didn’t care. Such an opportunity would never come again. Or would it?
Ever since I arrived home after that first day I had wracked my brain for ways to contact her. Trouble was she said it had to be a one time thing. I was well aware, and terrified, of all the circumstances surrounding the idea of seeing her again and it sure had kept me from doing anything stupid.

Like there was no way I could just show up. Disaster. And there had been no exchange of contact information. Dammit. I knew her address and with a little work I could find plenty out but then how to go from there? I sighed.
I just had no way of judging what any outcome would be, of any scenario I came up with and it always came down to a tug of war in my mind.

I came out of my daydream, running my thumb across the little cotton patch of her thong. That was the other sorry thing about all this. They were all clean. I lay back with a groan.
I held the thong with up both hands as I lay on my back. No, it didn’t keep me from enjoying each and every pair. I just ached for more as I pictured her hips and thighs.

I dropped the thong on my chest and took my cock back up in her french panties. I slid my arm back behind my head. There had to be a way to let her know. Thinking how she too had enjoyed it helped my resolve to learn more about her. And wondering if we could ever do it again was overpowering my worries.
My hand sped up and I looked down to watch.
I would think of a way.
Right after this.
***
I finished my note and reread it. Then I reread it again. Printing one was to informal and this was my tenth try by hand but now it looked pretty good. It was part apology, part offer, part humor and part diary. A combination to let her know what I had been up to. I had thought on the matter for some time, always proceeding from the fact she had enjoyed it. So naturally she wouldn’t mind at least a follow up?

Still I couldn’t deny the risk and how it all seemed a little surreal. I tucked it into an envelope along with a card giving my cell number. There were many worse case scenarios but I was going to see it through.
I tapped the letter on the table a few times and sighed.
“She’s going to think I’m either a stalker or a secret agent.”
***
One hour later I sent it off via registered mail. I stepped out of the post office and blew into my hands. Our false summer was over and the days were getting chilly.
Registered mail. Only she and she alone could sign for it.
***

For a time on the way home I regretted sending it. I envisioned anyone but her contacting me. Everything from a shotgun wielding husband to the cops. I clicked my bedroom light on, tossing my jacket on my office chair. Her panties still lay in a pile on the bed and I leaned against the wall and studied them.
The woman gave me twelve pairs of panties.
This had to work. Something had to happen
***
Nothing. I waited five weeks and nothing. I felt stupid for how much I dwelt on it and how often I checked all the contact points I had provided. Nothing.
I clicked shut my laptop and leaned back in my chair.
Going to just be a memory then, huh?
Then my cell phone rang.

One night at 3 AM it went off right next to my head on the bed stand. I was hazy and fumbled around in the dark but finally I grabbed it and flipped it open.
“Hello?”
“You really are a pervert for my panties aren’t you?”
I clicked the light on and sat up.

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