Lisa's Wet Panties

Lisa's Wet Panties is a collaboration based on the experiences of someone who emailed me through Literotica. It was developed though a series of on-line chats. If the opening chapter goes down well, we'll continue with it. If not, we won't. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for looking. Lowbobby

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Lisa studied them in the bathroom mirror. The swollen lips made her look as though she was pouting. They changed her whole facial expression. It was more sensual, she thought. Her lips looked excited by being slightly swollen. She gently bit the lower lip and squeezed it through her teeth. It tingled. She ran her tongue along the upper lip. The sensation was delicious and she wondered if it felt like that before the treatment, or if the swelling made it more sensitive. She couldn't remember the sensation well enough.

She pursed them softly to accentuate the extra pout the injections had given her, and examined her reflection. The whole area around her lips felt sexually excited. Would Tracey like them? she wondered. Lisa wanted to receive a kiss from her so much, but kisses were only for girlfriends, Tracey had said. With these new lips, maybe Tracey would want to kiss her. Lisa had spent hours choosing them, studying pictures in magazines to show the doctor.

She was pleased with the effect, and she would find out this evening if they worked. Tracey had suggested Maxine's. It was the perfect restaurant, with its quiet tables in secluded booths. Lisa had decided what she was going to wear: a dark green wrap over dress, high heeled dark green leather sandals, white cotton panties - a new pair of her favourites. Her tights were decorated with a subtle diamond pattern and secret bows and a seam at the back. She was going to the salon for a full facial and then to the hairdresser at 3 o'clock. She was going to look lovely.

It had been a shock to see Tracey at the club last month, after all this time. She was all grown up, twenty now. Lisa remembered her when she was a teenager. She was mischievous and confident. Even at 16, she was a tease. But she was the daughter of Lisa's employer, and Lisa kept well away from her, frightened that the precocious teenager would spoil the relationship with her boss. Lisa knew that Tracey saw through her back then, that she could tell.

And she knew that Tracey would mock and tease her here in the club because that was her character. She was voluptuous now, sinuous, slightly slow in her movements, but obviously athletic. She exuded health, youth, sex. She was rich, she was gorgeous, and she would always have the upper hand. Lisa felt like crumbling. She wanted to hide but there was no-where to go. And Tracey stood at the bar, blocking her way out.

Lisa noticed the girlfriend with her. She was far more slender than Tracey but captivating. Why was such beauty so frightening? Lisa wondered. Other women could introduce themselves to such a girl and ask her out. But Lisa could never dare. She decided to turn her back to them and try to squeeze past unnoticed. But Tracey saw her and broke into a smile that was both pleased and cruel, like a boy who had found an insect to torture.

"Hello," she said, her voice starting high and falling in pitch, "what do we have here?" And Tracey looked Lisa up and down, as though deciding what to do with her. Lisa stopped, speechless, helpless as always. She felt like the older woman in front of the young goddess. Closer now, Lisa felt the luscious sexuality of her. She wanted to stop herself from looking at her lips, her eyes, to stop herself from gazing at the swell of her breasts.

She turned to look at her friend, but that didn't help. The girl's skin was clear and pure, her features carved. You wanted to gaze. She wore a halter-neck dress in black chiffon and no bra. It was semi-transparent. Lisa tried to focus on her jewellery to take her attention away from the contours under the dress. The silver necklace was a coiled hoop and she wore a matching bracelet. Simple and elegant. But Lisa couldn't look at it forever. She looked back at Tracey, whose sense of power grew stronger while Lisa fidgeted.

"I don't think that was very polite, do you?" she asked.

"What's that?" Lisa replied, as sweetly as she could.

"Squeezing past. Ignoring me. Not even having the courtesy to come and say 'Hello'. Don't you think it was rude of you?"

"Yes, I'm sorry. I suppose it was. I..." And she was going to fumble some excuse about not believing it was really her, and about being in a rush.

"Well the least you could do is say sorry properly!"

"Yes, I am sorry..."

"I think you should at least buy me dinner, for such a public disrespect! Somewhere expensive." Tracey turned to her friend, who seemed to enjoy the power she was demonstrating. The girl let a slight laugh escape, and when she spoke her voice was sweet and mellow.

"Well, I agree with Tracey. It's the least you could do." Lisa saw the barman shaking his head in disbelief but she was nailed to the floor.

"So when would you like?" she found herself saying, stupidly. And there was a whole rigmarole of next Tuesday... no Wednesday... or better still... and every time Lisa came up with a suggestion it was inconvenient.

"Make it next month. I'll let you know." Tracey's voice sharpened. "And I'll let you know which restaurant."

"O.K." Lisa started to shuffle towards the stairs but she felt a hand on her arm, holding her back.

"Where are you going?" Tracey demanded.

"I have to..."

"No, come and join us. We were just looking at photographs. Ellie models, you know." And Ellie smiled in the easy modest way of the truly beautiful, as though it was nothing. Nothing at all. Oh God, she's lovely, Lisa thought. And again she found her eyes darting from place to place to avoid staring.

They took a table and spread out the current issue of Vogue, a magazine called Dazed and couple of very arty publications Lisa had never heard of. The conversation was about lips, and Lisa followed it closely, not venturing her own opinion but listening to every word. The girls looked at the photographs and talked about fullness, shape, colour, the way the lips matched with the faces. What was sexy and what was beautiful. Lisa felt increasingly left out of the conversation. She didn't dare push in, but they didn't ask her opinion.

It should have felt wonderful to be at this table with the two most beautiful women in the club and to be seen in their group, but she knew she was the odd one out. And she wondered what she was doing there, why they had asked her to join them. She began to feel embarrassed at being ignored so publicly and looked around to see if anyone was watching. She recognised the quickly averted glances. Everyone in the room was looking at these girls.

They started admiring each other's lips, enjoying a little public performance. Tracey ran her finger along Ellie's lower lip, the pressure indenting the flesh as her finger moved, and then it followed the cupid's bow of the upper lip. Ellie let out a little sigh, a rush of breath when she finished. She smiled and looked at Tracey, her eyes sparkling with a memory private to themselves.

Lisa knew she was getting wet. She could feel it. She knew she would have to go to the toilet.

"Whose do you prefer?" asked Tracey, surprising her with the attention, "Ellie's or mine?" It was a cruel question, asked with the knowledge that both of these lovely young women were out of reach.

"You both have lovely lips," Lisa rushed to say, "it's impossible to choose." She felt herself burning, and getting wet again with the teasing of it. She was being invited to look closely at the lips that were denied her, to be present at some kind of foreplay. Her pussy was tingling. She could see a mocking glint in Tracey's face.

"Now look," said Tracey, "we'll both lick our lips, and you tell us which is most kissable."

Ellie joined in the game.

"You go first," she said to Tracey. And Tracey leaned over the table and put her elbows on it. She stared at Lisa as though she was in love, and then she licked her lips. She ran the tip of her tongue slowly around them and pouted. All the time staring at Lisa with that look of love, of lust. Her lips were full and dark and sensual. They shone with moisture as her tongue moistened them. She left them erotically half open. Lisa felt her pussy reacting the way it always did. She felt herself squirting involuntarily and she wanted to cry, to escape, to get out of there before it got any worse. She was hoping that the stains would not seep through to her dress. It would be over in a moment, after Ellie's turn, she thought, and then she could escape to the women's room.

Lisa had seen Ellie as a sort of classical goddess until now, physically perfect, completely beautiful. But slightly unreal and less physically present than Tracey, whose energy you couldn't help feeling. But when Ellie in her turn leaned in over the table and stared into her eyes, it was different. Lisa felt like a switch had been tripped in her body. She felt hypnotised, powerless. Nerves tingled all along her arms and her legs and in her torso. She felt the wetting sensation again but she couldn't move. The girl's close gaze was like a knockout blow.

Ellie's tongue ever-so-slowly traced the outline. Her lips were a work of art. Full, almost swollen. The left, or was it the right, was ever so slightly fuller, but the little asymmetry made them more interesting, like a puzzle you couldn't solve and had to keep staring at. People would die for a kiss from this woman. Her eyes were softer, more gentle than Tracey's, and her look more loving, and that gentleness made the tease even more cruel.

Lisa just shook her head as she stood and rushed to the ladies room. She heard the girls laughing behind her as she went. She bumped past people in her haste and apologised clumsily. When she locked the door she pulled up her skirt to inspect the damage.

Her panties were drenched. Her fluids had rushed out and flooded the cotton panties and her tights. There was the beginning of a wet mark on her skirt. She sat on the toilet and pushed and felt the remaining fluid dribble out. She was tearing paper from the dispenser to pad her panties when she heard the knock on the door.

"Lisa? Lisa?" Tracey's lilting voice, again starting high and dropping in pitch in a mockery of niceness came from the other side.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm ok. Just a minute," Lisa replied, and she packed the paper into her panties and pulled them up and straightened her skirt before opening the door. But when she flipped back the latch, the door came in and Tracey stood there barring her exit.

"Have you been having fun by yourself?" she mocked. Her hand dropped down and lifted the hem of Lisa's skirt to feel. She tried to stop her, but the change in Tracey's expression was enough to make her let Tracey lift the skirt. She felt Tracey's hand dip into her tights and downwards, and then she saw Ellie behind her. Again she squirted, this time into the paper.

When Tracey found it, she pulled back, and then with both hands she lifted the skirt and pulled down the tights and panties. Lisa leaned back against the wall, her secret exposed. The white toilet paper she had packed into her panties was soaked now and creamy-coloured with the juices that flowed from her. Tracey picked it out with her thumb and finger as though she was handling something distasteful.

"Ugh. Look at this," said Tracey, and she moved aside so Ellie could see the panties and tights soaked with cream, the dangling wet tissue. Lisa felt completely exposed. She heard Ellie giggling.

"And look at this underwear! Absorbent cotton panties!" said Tracey, "And they're all soaked in cream!" Tracey couldn't care less if anyone in other cubicles could hear her. Ellie leaned in to look and she laughed, too. She was so lovely, and Lisa felt her hips jerking, and another squirt came.

"Yuck," said Ellie.

Lisa burned with shame and with the secret pleasure of them seeing her like this. Her pussy was on fire. If they could only understand how I worship them, she thought, how I want to be with them. Then she felt Tracey's hand on her mound, and the forefinger pushed downwards, down, down, and caressed the lips expertly. She leaned back and let it happen. She was going to cum if it continued. And Tracey's hand carried on stroking gently, up and down the outside of the lips before her finger rested on the inner fold and began its journey to open them up widely, the long sweep back up towards her little nub.

Tracey's face was inches away, her lips invitingly close, and Lisa moved towards them, but Tracey pulled back sharply.

"Oh, no, no, no. Oh, no." Kisses are for girlfriends, and you're not a girlfriend," she mocked, "you're much too slutty. Look at you!" She gestured with her head at Lisa leaning on the wall of the toilet, her panties around her thighs. Besides, your lips aren't nice enough."

The finger in her pussy pushed back along the fold and tickled the tender skin near her anus. Then it began its return. It was torture.

"Now if you were to get some work done on your lips, then I might allow you a kiss. They need some shaping. Need to be fuller, like Ellie's." Lisa heard Ellie laugh.

The finger again approached her most sensitive place, and drew circles around it before it touched. She felt it fluttering over the nub. The sensations built to an intolerable intensity and she fought to hold herself back. The muscles in her buttocks were contracting and making her hips jerk. Tracey pressed her torso and her breasts against her. Her face was inches away and she stared into Lisa's eyes, watching her reactions. The finger pressed a little harder and Lisa could hold back the squirts no longer. They gushed over Tracey's hand as the finger vibrated. Lisa felt her body juddering with orgasm and she leaned her weight back against the wall of the women's room so she didn't collapse.

Then the hand was gone. She was propped against the wall, still jerking, her wet panties and tights around her knees. There was fluid on the floor. Tracey and Ellie were laughing loudly, excited at what they had done.

"Yuck," she heard from Ellie. "Look." They looked at the creamy mess in her panties and on the floor, enjoying their achievement. Lisa slowly pushed the door closed. She heard the tap running, the blow dryer, and their laughter diminishing in volume as they returned to the bar. She sat and waited for a long while before she packed her panties with more tissue, and came out of the cubicle to wash her hands.

She was hoping they would have gone from the club when finally she pulled open the door into the lounge, but they were seated at the table. She sensed people looking at her, as though there had been a discussion about her in the room, and she guessed that Tracey and Ellie must have gone back to their table laughing and talking about what had happened. She walked hurriedly towards the stairs but before she reached its safety, she heard Tracey's voice coming loudly across the room.

"Sort out those lips," she ordered. Lisa blushed. "I'll ring to let you know which restaurant." There was more laughter as she left.

And now that evening was just hours away.