Day One

My libido doesn't match my wife's. It's been in high drive since I hit puberty, and it has been difficult to control at times. When I was 18, I was kind of a reserved kid, not quite shy. Popular, but not outgoing. I didn't feel comfortable with the feelings I had and I didn't know what to do with them, so I kept my friends at a distance.

That all changed with a neighborhood guy named Matt. 24, college guy, and someone I knew but never really ran with, he was a fixture in the neighborhood. I'll never know why, but when he was home for the summer of 1987, he decided he was going to invest some time in me. What started as a hello while I was mowing the lawn, some small talk, turned into a couple of beers on his front porch at night when I walked by while walking the dog. I liked the beer, and felt all the attention deep in my belly, and started making nightly walks my habit, with the regular stop by for a beer, almost by appointment. Matt would be out, sometimes reading the paper, folding laundry, having a smoke, or possibly just waiting for me.

One night he was working on the laundry, and took a chance with me. As he was working on a folded pile, he asked me to hand him an unfolded pile left in the basket. As I did, a pair of his sister's panties fell to the ground. We looked at each other, both smirked, and argued who would have to pick them up. He suggested that since he didn't drop them, he wasn't going to pick them up. If he had to, he'd make me wear them. For some reason, that thought was like a lightning strike in my brain. I immediately could think of nothing else but slipping into that little pair of black satin panties for him. But I couldn't let on, I had to resist. I argued back, to no avail.

"At least I could fit in them." is all I can remember saying. That was all he needed, and he snatched them off the ground.

Tucking them into my pocket, he whispered, "You lose. They're yours now. I expect them on tomorrow night." Matt then took a couple steps back, smirked, and got back to the laundry like he never said a thing.

After I finished my beer, I went home, slipped those panties on, and furiously jerked my cock for all it was worth. I was in heaven. My god, if I could experience that again, I'd give anything. I literally hit my chin with the first gob of cum. Oh, to have those 18-year-old pelvic muscles again, though I'm still no slouch now. I slipped out of those panties, tucked them in my pillowcase, and passed out of sheer exhaustion.

The next night, I was so nervous and anxious I almost chickened out. The panties felt so foreign. I swore my parents could see them through my jeans. Every step I took I could feel them tugging in a different place, constricting and pulling at my cock, cupping my ass, sliding up and down my abs. Track and Field had given me a pretty tight body, and the panties just became a slinky satin skin encasing my hips, ass and cock. Of course, I mustered up the courage to go for a walk. If I didn't, I might have never ended up the deviant I am now. But I did, and my heart was pounding as if I was sprinting. My cock was pounding too, and I remember it being the first time I could actually sense my pulse there.

Matt was waiting, beer in hand, reading the paper. I came up the porch, terrified he'd go through with this and question whether I held up my end of the challenge. As it turns out, it was the first words out of his mouth.

"You wore them, huh? I could tell by the way you were walking. I knew you'd do it." I was mortified but proud I had satisfied his expectations. "Do they fit you ok?" he asked. I had to admit they fit like a second skin, though more constricting than I was used to. Matt said, "You know I didn't give them for you to wear. I gave them for you to USE. If you want, you can work on that right now. I'd just like to watch." I froze. I didn't know what to do. He sensed my hesitation, reached under the table, grabbed my cock and squeezed. "Jerk this cock for me and I'll let you off the porch quietly. You won't last a minute anyway, you're already leaking down here." With that, he gave my balls a squeeze and slid back into his chair with a grin.

I don't think I even lasted a minute, to be honest. But he was right, I was leaking precum, and could feel it through my jeans. It must have been what it feels like to have a soaking wet pussy. I closed my eyes and rubbed my cock for all it was worth, and came as hard as I had the night before, contained by my jeans, but leaving an enormous cum spot running down my right thigh. When I opened my eyes, he was watching me, newspaper now down, with his cock peeking out of his shorts, and he was stroking it. He kept it up for another couple minutes, almost staring directly into me, until he came right there on the deck. I had never seen another guy cum before, and it was so erotic, so powerful. Hearing that load spurt out of his cock, hearing him panting, knowing it was because of me, was intoxicating.

"I think I'm ready to hit the sack," Matt said, and with that, he reached out and shook my hand. He'd reserved part of his load in his hand for that farewell, and pressed his cum into my palm. I smiled, knowing what was happening, but not being sophisticated enough to have any witty reaction except a dumb smile on my face. With that, he reached up to my cheek and grasped my face with his cum covered hand, dipped his thumb over my lower lip, and said, "I have plans for you. This is only day one".