Boring Underwear Pt. 01

Last week, we had dinner with our friends the Joneses, and they brought their son Walt with them. The Joneses moved into our neighborhood when Walt was a teenager, and before he left for college he would often drop by to visit. Walt has turned into a handsome young man.

After dinner, and after a few drinks, my husband asked me, "Why don't you tell them what your granddaughter said to you the other day?"

I looked puzzled, than remembered. It was embarrassing, and the Joneses must have noticed me look flushed. "Go on," he said, "it was funny."

If I didn't I figured that he would tell it anyway, so I started.

"Our granddaughter slept over with us while her parents took a night off from having a small child around the house. The next morning, she happened to walk into my room while I was getting dressed, and she said, "Grandma, your underwear is boring."

I laughed, my husband laughed, the Joneses laughed, but Walt smiled and gave me one of those looks, you know, from head to toe and back again.

"That's a good one," Mrs. Jones said. "Kids will say the funniest things."

Everyone chucked a bit more, then I said, "I guess she was right."

Walt said, "I bet your underwear isn't boring," and everyone laughed again.

My husband said, "Maybe your panties should have cartoon characters or unicorns on them."

I replied, "Maybe I should go shopping."

Our talk turned to other things. Before they left, the Joneses said they were going on a trip and Walt would take care of the house for the next several days. Walt smiled, "I'm off for the summer, and it'll be nice to have the house to myself for a while."

Because of what my granddaughter had said, the next day I went shopping for less boring underwear. I had not updated my lingerie for quite some time, and I was overdue to treat myself to something feminine and fancy.

A couple of days ago, I walked down our street past the Jones' home and happened to see Walt in the back yard in the garden. So I strolled back to say hello.

Walt smiled, "What brings you here today?"

"Oh," I said, "just out for a walk and saw you working. How's the garden?"

"Fine," he said, "the new plants need attention, and I just sprayed them for pests."

"Oh, that's what I smell," I said. "Whew, it's a strong odor." I waved my hand under my nose and started to feel weak.

Walt noticed my reaction, and he jumped to his feet and guided me away to the patio. "Are you okay?" he asked. I felt light headed as Walt gently guided me to a lounge chair and Walt fanned me with a magazine.

I felt better quickly, and then that I noticed Walt had unbuttoned the top of my blouse, I suppose to give me more freedom to breathe. My new bra was partly exposed, and entire cup on one side was in plain view.

I don't know if my mind was still a little fuzzy or if I was startled, but I didn't cover myself quickly. Instead, I watched Walt leering at my bosom as he fanned me.

Then I felt Walt's hand touch my bra, "Well, Mrs. Ballard, it looks like you no longer have boring underwear."

No one had touched me like that for a long time, and I didn't scold him like I should have when his fingers traced the lacy pattern of the bra holding up my breast, I said, "I'm glad it's not boring to you, but maybe we should...."

Walt stopped me by putting a finger to my lips, "It's okay, no one his here but us," as I felt his fingers move across my nipple. He couldn't see anything, but he guessed exactly where my nipple was hidden. I froze and let him continue. I couldn't believe that this old family friend, the teenager I had once known, was being so bold. Both nipples harden as he exposed the other side of my bra.

"You're feeling okay now?" Walt asked. That was a hard question to answer. Yes, the dizziness was gone, but I was concerned that this young man was taking too many liberties with an older woman. It was entirely improper, and I didn't know what to do.

My hesitation became my undoing. If I had complained, I'm sure Walt would have politely apologized and restored my modesty. Before I could give him a direct answer, Walt said, "Well, your bra is the kind of lingerie that a young man dreams to see on a lovely mature woman like you, and the only thing left to do is to see if your panties are as exciting."

My arm started to defend my privacy, but before I could react definitely Walt had lifted my skirt. "Ooops," he said, "not high enough yet." Then he pulled up my skirt higher. I didn't defend myself with my arms, but instinct made me slide my hips to the side and press my knees together.

He saw my panties. "Oh, Mrs. Ballard, your lacy panties do match your lacy bra. And I love it!" I don't think anyone will accuse you now of having boring underwear. And then he laughed.

His laughter broke the tension, and I laughed, too. Finally, I was able to say something, "I'm glad you think I've solved the problem?"

"Well," Walt said, "I've only seen a bit of your panties." And then I felt his hand trying to gently move my knee. I don't know what got into me, but I allowed my knees to follow his touches. I tried to remain at least a little modest as my legs moved apart.

Walt glanced down, and I could only imagine what Walt was able to see now. "Ah, yes," he said, "very lovely." As a gentleman, he did not stare at the spot where only a thin strip of silk hid my pussy. He looked up at me, then at my breasts as one hand traced the lacy design up and over each breast, and then I felt his other hand start to trace the lacy patterns of my panties.

I happened to catch his eye as his fingers found my mons and gently climbed up and over its little hill. My hips squirmed as I knew what was about to happen, but I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to stop him.

"Relax," Walt said, "Enjoy yourself. There's nothing to worry about. I'm just going to touch your pussy now."

I must have gasped at how bold this young man was being. My heart was racing, and more than anything I wanted him to touch me there. His fingers pressed gently as they found the parting of my pussy lips. My excitement grew to a fever pitch as he found the hooded fold that was sticking up and protruding when I get aroused. Just under the hood he rubbed in a circle until, even under my panties, he found my most sensitive spot. My head fell backward.

This young man was no slouch. He knew his way around a women's body, and I was about to discover what it felt like to be teased by a master.

As one of his hands continued to gently massage and explore my pussy, his other hand went back to my bra. The next minutes were heaven, and I was falling deeper and deeper into a place I'd never felt before.

Then, all of a sudden, Walt politely lowered my skirt. He tucked my breasts back and buttoned my blouse for me. Then he sat there, looking at me. "Mrs. Ballard, did you think I was going to fuck you?"

Even after all this, I was startled again. Did he expect me to answer such a question? Well, yes, I suppose I did know that I allowed him to take liberties with me. And certainly if someone didn't fuck me soon I'd be a wreck.

I had to swallow, blink, and then answered him, "Yes, I did."

He smiled, "Oh no, I don't think you really want that. But you do like to be touched and teased."

I was confused. Why wouldn't he want to strip me naked and fuck me like the slut I felt he made me?

"My parents are away all week. Come back tomorrow but wear new lingerie for me, and we can do this again."

What? Was he serious? Did Walt want to tease me unmercifully again. Or over and over? He stood and took my hand to help me rise up. He took me in his arms and kissed me, a very unneighborly kind of kiss that made my toes curl. He walked with me through his home and to the front door. My pussy and nipples were still tingling as he wished me good day.