Tammy's Treasures

Tammy handed the bag of panties to the woman and smiled. "Thank you. Put them to good use," Tammy said and winked.

The woman smiled back, slightly embarrassed, and turned away from the counter. Tammy watched her leave the store and noticed that the woman wore a thong under her white pants. She could tell by the faint outline just below the woman's belt.

As owner of Tammy's Treasures, the city's hottest lingerie shop, Tammy made it her business to notice these things.

She would talk to anyone about lingerie, and indeed did. Her customers were usually more than happy to tell her what they liked and disliked, which helped Tammy gauge what was hot in the lingerie world. She'd also go online to chat, where she'd often find men and women eager to talk about their preferences. Even though the men were generally more interested in what she was wearing, she could usually tease out of them what it was about lingerie that turned them on. Knowing her customers was a big part of what had made the store such a success.

Men's interest in lingerie was a never-ending source of fascination for her. She'd been in her early twenties when she'd learned what power lingerie, and particularly panties, could hold over a man.

She'd always had a preference for skirts and wore them almost exclusively when it was warm—and usually when it was cold too, though the weather might make pantyhose a necessity. One day in her junior year at college—she had been twenty-one—she was sitting on a bench reading in one of the college's courtyards. She was dressed casually that day, wearing a red blouse and a denim skirt that stopped a couple of inches above the knee. At that time, she preferred playful lingerie, and wore a red silk bra and white cotton panties decorated with little bunches of red cherries—even in her youth, she insisted on matching.

She'd been so engrossed in her reading and so enjoyed the feel of the sun's warmth on her bare legs that she'd gradually let her knees, which were almost touching, come apart to a distance of about a foot. She'd even stretched one leg out so the heel of her sneaker rested on the ground and her toes pointed to the sky. Even though students sat on the grass all around the courtyard, Tammy was lost in her own world, and her surroundings had seemed to fade away. At the end of a chapter, Tammy looked up dreamily, the images produced by the text still playing in her mind. Her eyes gradually focused on her surroundings, and she saw a young man, not ten feet from her, lying on his side in the grass with a book spread out in front of him. He wasn't reading, though, and openly stared at the space between her legs. His eyes had a glazed look and his mouth hung open slightly. She saw that a sizable erection was stretching his shorts.

Tammy immediately crossed her legs, which snapped the boy out of his dream-state. He looked up at her, obviously fearful of being caught. Tammy just averted her eyes and pretended to continue reading. She was embarrassed, but strangely agitated too. She'd never flashed anyone, at least not knowingly, and despite being young and attractive, never really considered that men might be interested in looking up her skirt. Years later, she knew that she'd been hopelessly naïve, and that the boy's stare had awoken something in her.

At the time, she felt a tingling in her panties and squeezed her thighs together, which just made it worse. She cast secret glances over her book as the boy adjusted his erection, apparently trying to make it less noticeable, and shoved his book in his backpack, held it in front of his crotch, and made his escape. Tammy left shortly thereafter. She headed back to her dorm room, and for once her two roommates were gone. She wiggled out of her skirt, lay on her bed, and pulled a sheet up over her. Her cotton panties were warm, as though an engine had started inside them, and slightly damp. With two fingers, she drew little circles over herself, letting the soft cotton of her panties tickle her and slide wetly over her. She pictured the boy, remembering his stare and the faraway look in his eyes that the sight of her panties had produced. She saw his erection and imagined him sitting up, Indian style, and pulling his penis from his shorts. She'd never seen a man masturbating but pictured him stroking his penis. In here mind, it was long and hard, and he stroked it only for her. By the time she came, her panties were soaking wet and her fingers were sticky from the moisture that had seeped through the material. She smiled as she fell into a wonderful, dreamless nap.

Tammy didn't think about the boy again until about a week later, when she saw him in a girlfriend's apartment at a small party she was having. Her friend, Melanie, actually introduced them. His name was Stephen, and apparently he didn't recognize her, or else was very good at hiding it. Perhaps he'd only recognize my panties, she thought, and smiled to herself.

Toward the end of the evening, Tammy stood out on the apartment's balcony talking to her friend Gwen. Stephen was there as well, talking to a boy she didn't know. Tammy snuck covert glances at him and realized that he was quite good-looking in a self-conscious kind of way. He didn't look at all like the pervert she had assumed him to be. In fact, from what little she could observe of him, he seemed nice and maybe even sweet.

"I'm going to get a beer, anybody want one," said the boy talking to Stephen, looking at Gwen and Tammy.

"Umm, sure," said Tammy.

"I'll help," said Gwen in such a way that Tammy knew she had her eyes on the boy. "Don't wait up," whispered Gwen as she followed the boy into the apartment.

"Well," said Stephen, looking uncomfortable, but game.

"I have to be honest," said Tammy. "I don't think we're going to get our beers." She was suddenly self-conscious and was glad she'd worn her short black skirt and silky black blouse. She knew black favored her.

"What do you mean?" asked Stephen.

"Well, I get the feeling that Gwen likes your friend, and I wouldn't be surprised if they don't come back at all."

"Oh," laughed Stephen. "Do you want me to grab us a couple beers?"

He is sweet, she thought. Almost gentlemanly.

"I'm okay for a bit. I'm enjoying this night air," she said, and looked out over the balcony. Stephen turned to look too, so his elbow almost touched hers.

"It's nice," he said. "I know this is going to sound like a line, but you look really familiar. I know I'd remember if we'd met, though. It's strange. Do we have a class together, maybe?"

He'd turned to look at her and she looked into his eyes, which she realized were a startling blue. "No, I'm sure we don't . . ."

Her words hung in the air, and they were both silent for a moment. Tammy could hear the faint sound of his breathing and the beating of her own heart. She wouldn't dare to say what she was thinking of saying.

"I think I saw you in the courtyard the other day." She couldn't believe she said it. Would he make the connection?

His eyes went wide and he breathed in, his face reddening. "Oh," he said, and looked like he wished he were a million miles away.

"It was you, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, his voice crackling. "I'm sorry . . ." He still couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"Don't be," she said. "I don't know how to explain it, but it was sort of . . . flattering."

"It was?"

"I could tell you enjoyed looking at me," Tammy said.

He nodded, then realized that she meant she had seen his erection. "This is really embarrassing," he said, and looked at her again with those blue eyes.

"I've certainly never had a conversation like this before," she said and laughed quietly.

"Neither have I," he answered, laughing too, glad that some of the tension had been released.

"How . . . umm . . . how much could you see?" she asked uneasily.

He swallowed before answering. "I could see your panties pretty clearly." He looked a little flushed, as though the memory were affecting him.

"Do you remember what they had on them?" She knew this was torture for him, but couldn't help it. She was in fact thrilled by it.

"They were white with cherries," he said.

"Well, I'm glad I wore something cute that day."

"Me too," he said, and gathered up his courage. "You have no idea how much that turned me on."

Tammy's breasts rose under her blouse as she breathed in. "Me too." She remembered touching herself after their encounter.

"I've been playing it back in my mind ever since. You looked so perfect . . ." he said.

"So you liked the panties I was wearing?" she said, almost whispering the word panties.

"Oh God. They were so cute."

Tammy shocked herself as much as Stephen when she said, "Would you like to see what I'm wearing now?"

Moments later, Tammy was leading him from the balcony into her friend's bedroom. She wasn't sure if anyone saw them entering it, and didn't really care. She locked the door behind them and told Stephen to sit on the bed. She could see that his pants were already starting to bulge. He sat hunched forward, as though embarrassed.

"I want to show you my panties," she said. "But I want you to show me something first."

"What?" he said quickly, desperately.

She pointed at his crotch, "That."

He quickly undid the top button of his shorts and yanked down the zipper, then hesitated, lifted his bottom slightly, and pushed his shorts and boxers down around his thighs. His cock sprung up at her, now completely hard.

"Wow," she said. "God, it's big, really big," she marveled. Tammy had been with two men before, but they were not as large as Stephen. He blushed, but she could tell he enjoyed the compliment.

"I guess it's time for my part of the deal," she said, and moved closer to him. She started to inch her skirt up, but with agonizing slowness. He stared at her legs, at the hem of her skirt and the skin she was revealing.

"You can touch yourself," she whispered. "I want you to."

Stephen took hold of his cock tentatively, but then appeared to cast any restraint aside and began to stroke it. His hand moved up and down. God, I'm doing this to him, she thought.

Tammy inched her skirt higher, higher, revealing her pretty thighs. Stephen moaned and leaned forward as her panties came into view. At first her could see just a little semi-circle of material below her skirt, and then she revealed more. She wore silk panties with thin, vertical black-and-white stripes.

"I hope you like these," she said. "I always try to match."

"Oh, so pretty," he gasped, and stroked his cock faster.

Tammy inched closer to him as she raised her skirt. He could now see where the panties crossed over her hips and the pale skin above her waistband. She held the skirt with one hand and placed her other hand on his shoulder.

"Stroke it, stroke it," she said, and lowered herself a little. Her crotch was inches from the tip of his cock. She moved even closer, so he was able to brush the tip across the warm, moist silk.

"God," he moaned. His head fell back and he raised his hips, pressing his cock hard against her panty-covered crotch. He squeezed his cock and leaned forward, opening his eyes wide. A shudder seemed to pass through him. His cock actually widened for a moment, as though she'd taken it in her mouth and blown air into it, and then he was coming. He came in three long bursts, each one coating the black-and-white silk with his semen. Tammy closed her eyes and with one hand still on his shoulder pressed her other hand against the front of her panties. She rubbed his semen into her panties and could feel her clitoris throbbing. How can this be happening? she thought as an orgasm coursed through her. She hadn't come like this ever, not during intercourse or even while masturbating. She swayed on her feet, holding on to him for support, and only gradually came back to the room.

"Mmm, I think we ruined these panties," she said. Indeed, they were soaked, both with his semen and with her juice. "Would you like them for a souvenir?"

Stephen smiled gratefully. "Very much."

She shimmied out of them. Stephen cupped his hands together to take them. She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. "I better be going now," and in an instant she was gone and he was left alone in the room, shorts down, holding her precious panties.

It was a good memory. Tammy didn't see him much after that. They were both embarrassed about what had happened and were busy with school. Before she'd left the room that night, she'd snuck one last look at him from the doorway. He was holding her panties lovingly before him, staring at him. She swore after that she'd never wear anything but the finest lingerie. You never knew.