tagIllustratedThe Panty Perils of Me 01

The Panty Perils of Me 01


It has been 4 weeks since my embarrassing exposure to the neighborhood hormonal charged 18 year olds at my daughter's high school and as a constant reminder I have a group of them lurking outside my home to get glimpses of me. Normally I guess that I should be flattered, however it has become a bit unnerving for me and I have found that I have purposely altered some of my regular routines to avoid their constant scrutiny. One of these routines has been my early morning work out where I have learned to incorporate aspects of the equipment found at our local playground that is located within eyesight of our house.

I believe that every neighborhood has them i.e. a group of males that react to their burgeoning hormones by acting inappropriately. It never happens when they are alone as they are by nature polite and respectful. However get them together as a group and I will overhear their comments on my tight pants or short skirts along with references to my MILF status, which has also brought me to the attention of one of my more reclusive neighbors, and possibly others as well.

In a way it does help to assuage my female ego to have a group of men hovering around like dogs in heat, but to what end I am not sure.

As the warmer weather has approached I couldn't ignore the call of the outdoors and have again been getting up early and walking a couple of blocks to the playground to use the equipment as part of my exercise routine. I am always the only one there but often have my newly acquired entourage admiring my sweat soaked t-shirt and nylon shorts as I walk home. It is difficult to hide my smile as I can only imagine what they might be thinking about during what I expect to be their subsequent unusually long trips to the bathroom.

I can imagine them emerging with reddened faces a little out of breath with a sense of satisfaction at their recent ministrations and ejaculations into a wad of toilet paper. Shame on me for even thinking about these things, but as I have written in my Woman's Journal often enough, I am changing.

One morning I was in one of my moods. You know the ones, when you wake up in the morning feeling aroused and want to be a bit naughty. This particular one found my normal wardrobe of exercise shorts and a t-shirt bunched up in the laundry basket awaiting a thorough cleansing of my female odors and stains. So instead I found myself donning a black cotton summer blouse and micro mini along with a pair of flip-flops for my morning routine. Not exactly the ideal form of exercise wear, but as I have already stated, I was in one of those moods. I could probably spend a great deal of time analyzing my choice of attire as a hidden desire for attention or something similar, but when I am in one of my moods it is so much simpler to just go with the flow instead.

I walked down to the playground without seeing any of my aforementioned audience, although it was still quite early, and began my routine resulting in numerous upskirts and panty peeks, which went seemingly unobserved but caused such a delightful tingling inside me that my body was absolutely vibrating with sexual energy.

My stamina was at an all time high as I climbed onto the top of the oversized tire stack and began to do body presses by inserting myself inside the opening of the tire with my hands on either side of the rim as I lowered my body and then pushed myself back up to define my arms and build upper body strength.

I was doing extremely well as I tried to do that one more rep with my arms shaking and my shoulders groaning in complaint. Unexpectedly my body just gave out.

As I fell through the opening of the tire, a few strands of steel belt caught the zipper of my mini skirt which combined with my own gravity induced fall put the wires in a perfect position to tear the zipper completely open from stem to stern and off came my skirt never to be worn again.

As I stood shaking from the experience I gingerly checked everything that either bounced or hit the side of the tire as I fell to find that I was basically unharmed except for some minor bumps and bruises that normally would be covered by my clothing anyway. The same could not be said for my skirt, which now hung seductively from one of the protruding wires as if thrown there by an over anxious lover. I then climbed back out leaving the shredded skirt behind wondering how I was going to make it home wearing a too short to cover anything black blouse and very tiny black panties.

Just as I resolved myself to retrieve my torn skirt to use as a makeshift cover-up, I heard the voices of my testosterone filled male admirers approaching the playground.

"Are you sure you saw her come down here today?"

"She was wearing a mini skirt?"

"I am telling you that I was watching her do her usual stuff and she's was wearing a mini skirt and black panties."

"God, I would love to see her legs all the way up, if you know what I mean."

"She has got to be here somewhere."

So much for my 'sexy' mood as the realization that my fan club was about to see their resident MILF in just her panties hit me full in the face or more specifically, full in the gut. A sense of panic coursed through me as I pulled on my skirt until the steel belted wires came loose from my destroyed zipper and attempted to wrap the material around my waist holding it in place with one hand.

Essentially I was now wearing a very short skirt with a side slit that went all of the way up to where my hand held the material together.

I then gathered all of the courage that I could muster trying to replace the overwhelming feeling of discomposure with an adult determination to get myself home. With a deep inhale of air to bolster my resolve I stepped out from behind the tires to look at my surprised but very pleased male admirers.

As firmly as I could, I told them to mind their own business, but the shaking combined with a telltale squeaking of my voice gave my extreme lack of confidence away.

One of the young men grabbed the loose flap of my skirt easily pulling it from my trembling hand and there I stood in my too short black blouse and my pair of tiny black string bikini panties.

The look of pure satisfaction on all of their faces gave my stomach a weird feeling as I felt a warm flush envelope my bare skin.

What exactly do you do when you are standing almost naked in front of a hormone infused group of voyeurs whose wet dreams of me have just come true?

Oh sure, I know what many of you are thinking as you imagine a sequence of BJ's as well as a gang bang, but I am not that type of girl. And after all this story is about me, isn't it?

As I stood in the middle of the circle that they had formed around me an older male voice barked out with authority, "Get away from her and leave her alone, you hoodlums."

I turned to see my reclusive neighbor, who it was rumored had been asked to retire his tenure as a noted professor as he had a penchant for taking revealing photos of not so willing coeds, approaching my band of voyeurs.

Immediately their bravado turned to uncertainty as my one souvenir taker returned my ruined skirt to my neighbor. I found it uncomfortable with how long it took the professor to return my skirt to me so I could cover up my nakedness. Had I not been so distracted by everything that was happening I undoubtedly would have recognized that undeniable look in his eyes as he unabashedly stared at my body.

Time would remind me of that look.

The group disbanded as I repeatedly thanked my neighbor for his intervention. As he walked me home he said something to me about " returning the favor one day", which has left me with a very uneasy feeling as the look on his face indicated that any type of favor would not be of an innocent nature.

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byHarleyFatboy1© 3 comments/ 160930 views/ 7 favorites

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