tagTranssexuals & CrossdressersThe Red Lace Panties

The Red Lace Panties


The Lover

She watched him as he looked through the racks of panties. She'd approached him when he first came in, as she'd been trained to do, and asked him if he needed any help. He seemed to know what he wanted and she'd directed him over to the size he'd requested. He was well over six feet tall and well built, with broad shoulders. He wore a smart pair of jeans and a well ironed shirt and his boot heels rang out on the hard flooring.

She kept her eye on him as he made his selections; a handful of reds and pinks. He approached her, slightly flushed but walking with a self assured air. Putting his purchases down on the counter he looked at the her and smiled broadly. He had a neatly trimmed beard and even white teeth and chewed on his lip slightly apprehensively. She scanned the panties and checked off the sizes. She'd told him that he had chosen the red satin ones in two different sizes.

'Yes, that's ok. One pair is for me,' he'd replied with a nervous catch in his voice, but still smiling. Had the regular assistant served him, had she not been busy on the phone, she would have simply smiled back at him.

'His and hers?' she would have said, lightheartedly. But Dolores had not worked there long and she affected nonchalance as she wrapped the lingerie and placed it carefully in the gift bag. Taking the gift bag, dwarfed by his big hand, he strode purposefully out of the shop. Concentrating on the sensation of his not quite hard cock rubbing against the pink silky satin thong he was wearing under his jeans.

Back at home the tall man removed the pair of red shiny satin briefs in his size. He re-wrapped the remaining four pairs of panties, gently placing a kiss on each pair, just at the point of most intimate contact. He placed them in a padded envelope already addressed in his neat, clear handwriting and sent them off on their journey across the ocean.

The Husband

He'd known what was in the parcel. She had told him that they were on their way. But the jiffy bag was addressed to her and he put it on the kitchen table, for when she came back from work. He was busy cooking tea when she came in through the back door, all cold and wet from cycling home. He kissed her in greeting and watched out of the corner of his eye as she took off her wet things.

He heard her exclaim excitedly as she noticed the parcel. She would normally go straight upstairs and shower when she came in, but today she sat down and hurriedly tore into her gift from overseas. Long dark tendrils of wet hair stuck to her face and her greeny brown eyes were lit up as she pulled out all the layers of tissue, and examined the contents. He was torn between wanting to be with her as she opened the parcel, but held back because they were her presents. He was grateful when she made him come over and look and he saw three pairs of lacy panties, two red and one pink. She held up some red satin briefs, rubbed their shiny smoothness against her cheek and said;

'These have to be the ones he bought for himself as well! They just have to be!' He nodded in agreement. Having been shopping in Second Life together, the husband thought he knew the lover's tastes well enough by now.

That evening his wife was going out and she called him up to their bedroom to help choose what she should wear. He also realised it was an excuse to show him she was wearing a pair of the red lace panties. They were a dark red, almost crimson in colour, hipster briefs. He saw her pale skin illuminating the flowers in the pattern of the lace. He could just imagine how she felt to be wearing such sexy panties, expertly picked out by her online lover.

Once she had left and he had the house to himself he put Haydn's Piano Concertos on the cd player and turned up the volume nice and loud. He poured himself a glass of chianti and took it up to the bedroom. He looked at the splash of pink and red, satin and lace, lying on the bed. Sitting down he took a swallow of the fruity red wine and looked at the panties. The pairs on the bed still had the tags in them. An exotic sounding foreign label: Caqique. A label he'd come across on the Internet, but not one that was available over here. Two pairs labelled 'Cheeky'. Identical; one pink and one red. A lacy pattern again, but not so sheer this design. Narrow cut at the back though and he imagined how high between the cheeks they would sit and how much of his wife's curvaceous arse you would be able to see.

He took another sip of his wine and picked up the one remaining pair. Again, a rich crimson red. Seemingly less frivolous these were briefs; they would encompass the arse completely, covering it in the slippery shiny luxurious fabric. Unconsciously mimicking his wife's gesture from earlier, he held them up to his face. But this reminded him that he needed a shave. What he'd come upstairs for in the first place.

He took off his clothes and shivered slightly as he took his wine into the bathroom with him. The immersion heater hummed as it heated up the water and he enjoyed the cooler air of the bathroom on his skin. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the bath in time to the music that was filling the whole house. Draining his glass he stepped into the shower.

Soon the hot water was pouring down over his head. He closed his eyes and gave himself up to the wonderful relaxing feeling of the water cascading over his body. The small bathroom began to steam up as he rubbed shampoo into his blond hair, massaging his head as he did so. Next was the conditioner, which he carefully applied to his long hair. Once his hair was rinsed he stepped out of the water's range and sprayed orange scented foam on his body. Slowly and carefully he shaved from his neck down to where his pubic hair started. He had been shaving his legs for nearly a year now, but this was a recent activity and his skin was still really sensitive. Still he liked to do it; he liked the smooth and more feminine appearance of his body and he knew it would become easier the more often he did it. So he shaved his body and his legs and stepped back under the water to rinse off. A good soaping of everywhere else with shower gel and then a careful application and massaging in of a vanilla and caramel scented foot scrub, a final rinse of everywhere and he turned off the water.

One more thing to do: a task he previously avoided for thirty years. He had shaved off the beard he had had since he was 18 only a few months ago. He had realised only recently that he had grown a beard to avoid looking at himself every morning; to avoid the daily reminder of his outward maleness. So wiping a hole in the misted up mirror, he applied more foam and slowly the face that was now familiar to him appeared, clean shaven, smooth and getting more likeable each time he saw it.

He dried himself with a big soft fluffy towel, relishing the way he was more aware of textures now that his skin was not covered with its layer of body hair. He rubbed himself dry and walked back into the bedroom. Haydn had finished playing downstairs now and he turned the cd player on in the bedroom. The cd started to play: Kings of Leon - his wife's current musical favourite. Singing along he combed his hair and massaged in some foot moisturiser. It would soon be summer and he wanted his feet to be ready for sandals.

Looking in his chest of drawers, deciding what to wear. Black stockings he decided. He sat on the bed and gathered up one stocking and then the other, placing them carefully over his toes and easing them over his long legs. He loved the feeling of his legs being caressed by the tight sheer fabric; stockings felt so much better on shaven legs. He fixed them to a suspender belt: black with a lace panel at the front. Which panties? He decided on black lace mini briefs; they had just enough stretch and support to contain his semi hard cock. A burgundy coloured short skirt -- one that spun out when he swayed his hips and a purple T shirt. He looked at himself in the full length mirror and decided he needed some new tops: some thing prettier. But the cotton felt good against his smooth chest and he loved the way the fabric made his nipples tingle.

Lastly he put on his black ballerina style flat shoes and took his empty glass down with him, ready for a refill. Half way down the stairs he realised he'd left Kings of Leon playing upstairs but carried on down anyway.

The Wife

She sat up against the wooden headboard, a pillow behind her back. She was waiting for her husband and listened impatiently to the water running and teeth brushing sounds coming from the bathroom. She drank her Sleepytime tea (made out of habit, not out of any desire to fall asleep quickly), holding her mug in one hand while she unconsciously stroked the other across her breasts. Her nightie was leopard print and slippery to the touch. Her nipples were hard as the fabric brushed against them. A thin spaghetti strap slipped off her narrow shoulders and she absent mindedly pushed it back.

Her husband came in and she fixed him with her gaze as he undressed. She smiled at him as he kicked off his shoes and lifted his T shirt over his head. She loved his shaven chest; she had suggested he give it a go and she had been surprised at how silky smooth his skin was. She watched him take off the skirt and thrilled as he slowly revealed his sheer stockings, black suspender belt and the sizeable bulge already in his little black lace panties.

'Come here,' she said and he crawled across the bed until their mouths met. Then gently pushing him away, she asked, 'Would you moisturise my feet for me?' He opened the tub of caramel scented cream and she placed her feet on his stockinged thighs in readiness. He gently but thoroughly massaged the rich moisturiser into her feet. She relaxed as she felt his strong hands rub her aching muscles. Still keeping her feet on his thighs, she opened her knees, the short nightie travelled up to the tops of her thighs. As her thighs parted she revealed to him that she was still wearing the red lace panties.

She smiled to herself as she heard a low moan in his throat. Her feet forgotten, he crawled forward to bury his head between her thighs. She slid her feet down, but made sure that one remained between his legs. He pitched forward and kissed her, high up on her pubic bone. Then made a trail of kisses downwards. She felt his every movement through the fabric and squirmed in anticipation. His mouth felt very hot and wet as he started kissing and licking. He bit gently at her lips and she moaned appreciatively. He placed his mouth over her clit and sucked hard. He poked and probed through the lace of the panties with his tongue. She used her foot to press against his cock and balls and slid it back and forth, rubbing him hard, her toes curling up almost to his ass.

She was aware of a great wetness, her juices and his saliva. Her panties were drenched as he ate her out through the laciness. She tilted her hips forward to assist him and was slightly discomfited when the panties bunched up between the cheeks of her arse. But she started to enjoy the way the fabric rubbed against her there and scooted down a little more. She felt the panties being pulled tight around her as he worked them inside her cunt with his tongue. Fucking her with his lace panty covered tongue.

Then she sensed his frustration and he pulled the panties down and off and cast them over the side of the bed. He lay down flat on his stomach, squashing his cock against the mattress, and she felt his tongue thrust straight into her cunt and she inhaled sharply. She was able to feel the ministrations of his tongue more directly and she began to buck her hips against his mouth, building up a steady rhythm as he licked and sucked. She saw his hips buck against the mattress and knew it was time.

'Turn over,' she said urgently, as she pushed him away from her cunt. He lay down on his back and she quickly straddled his face, throwing off her nightie to join her panties. She held onto the headboard and positioned her cunt just how she needed it on his face. Previously they had been enjoying cunnilingus, but this was face-fucking, pure and simple. She placed her cunt over his nose and mouth and ground back and forth, riding him relentlessly. She was dimly aware of his body rocking in rhythm and she knew he was stroking his cock as she fucked him.

Quickly now she felt her pleasure increase as she reached that peak; she froze mid buck and her whole body shuddered as wave after wave of bliss rocked through her body. She cried out loudly; there was no holding that sound back, a pure animal sound. When she had come down sufficiently and come to, she lifted her body up and she heard him take a huge breath. She flipped around and sat back down on his face again and felt his tongue and lips working gently to drink all her juices.

She turned around just too late and saw that the first spurts of cum had landed on his suspender belt. But he was still stroking his rigid cock and she leaned forward and wrapped her lips around it and milked the last few drops. She sucked his cock head and licked the cum from his hand, as his tongue cleaned her up too.

Lifting her body up from his, she lay down next to him and their breathing slowed together. A flavourful shared kiss before he went to clean up. She picked up her nightie and put it back on. She picked up the discarded red panties and saw how wet they were. Impulsively she pressed them to her face, inhaling their fragrance, and then she placed a gentle kiss on the wettest part. And she thought of her lover, thousands of miles away, and the pleasure he'd brought to her and her husband, with the gift of those red lace panties.

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