My Panty Slave

I don't know why I married a panty slave. It's not like I didn't know about James' fetish before I said yes to his marriage proposal. He had been quite up front when we were dating about his desire to be controlled by a strong woman, and the instrument of her control was to be her underwear. He isn't into bondage or spanking or any of the more traditional bdsm fare, although I sometimes incorporate these things into our kinky love making. He also isn't selfish about his fetish; we don't play with my panties all the time. In fact, James told me he would only play if and when I wanted to play. It is part of his need to be controlled, but also his generous way. I assure you, I get all the things I like in the bedroom on a much more frequent basis than he gets to enjoy his little predilection.

When I am in a mood to be kinky, to be in control of my man, and to give him what he craves; I don't have to say anything, in fact I can't say anything. To verbalize it ahead of time is even to this day too awkward for me. Instead, I slip a pair of my panties in his gym bag, or his brief case, or dangle them from the rearview mirror of his car before he leaves for work in the morning. This way at some point in the day he finds out that he is going to have it his way when he comes home.

James isn't a cross dresser, but upon finding my panties, he is supposed to take the first opportunity to put them on under his suit pants. I always leave him something silky or satiny. He loves the feel of the slippery material on his gorgeous cock, and hugging his buttocks. He likes me to wear bikinis, not the thongs that most men want to see on their women. I make him wear bikinis too, and they are always very feminine, in chick colors like pink or pearl or teal, with lacy trim or girly patterns. James is in shape; his muscular thighs and hips stretch the panties out, and form a tight silky prison for his cock. He says he stays hard all day when he wears my underwear. I've never known him to lie to me. One day I even made a point of meeting him for lunch and inspected his panty encased dick, he was quite erect, of course that could have been because I made him show me in the elevator on the way down to the lobby of his office building.

James gets home from work before I do. On days when he has something frilly of mine on, he strips down to his panties and spends the hour he has to wait for me doing house chores. He works hard to allow us to have all the play time we will need that night. When I get home I am led to the couch by my man and am served a glass of wine, a flower; usually a rose, but often something else, and a plate of cheese and fruit. James has been hungry for me all day, and cannot wait for a traditional dinner and the usual end of day unwinding. The wine is to relax me, the rose is to thank me and the cheese and fruit are to restore my strength so I can ravage him. And I do.

When I've sipped my wine, and smelled my rose, and sampled my cheese; I feed the final morsel to my love and whisper in his ear. "Are you ready for me?"

"Yes." He whispers back.

"You haven't touched yourself all day?" I question teasingly as I stroke his engorged manhood through the silk.

"No." He promises.

"Did you enjoy my panties today?" I ask while continuing to caress him.

"Very much, thank you." He is very polite when he wears girl panties.

"Would you like to see what I'm wearing?"

"Please." He pleads.

I have only to point at the floor and James drops to his knees at my feet.

I pull back the hem of my skirt, slowly, teasingly. I usually wear thigh high stockings on these days, the only day I dare. I'm typically more conservative, but I must admit feeling turned on in my flirty skirt and sexy lingerie during the day; imagining what I'm going to do to my kinky little lover later that evening. When I've pulled back the skirt far enough to reveal my stocking tops and the first hint of bare thigh I stop. "Kiss." I command with a whisper.

James leans over and kisses my stocking tops. The sensation of his lips caressing the spot where the stockings end and my bare leg begins is exquisite. His kisses are punctuated with little licks and nibbles here and there. The good news for both of us is that by this time I am one creamy chick. My arousal is such that I can continue with our sexy play with little in the way of inhibition, and he is about to get sex the way he loves it the most.

I pull my skirt back a little more, and encourage him to kiss my exposed skin. It is at this point that sometimes I blindfold him, denying him the look up my skirt that he is craving. Sometimes I make him stop altogether and pour me another glass of wine, prolonging his agony. And sometimes I just pull my skirt all the way back and show James my panties. His eyes become fixated on them. He's mesmerized by the way they curve over my mound. His eyes scan over every part of my underwear, and my body. Typically there is evidence of my arousal in the crotch of my panties, eventually his wandering eyes find this damp spot and lock on. This is my cue to spread my legs a little wider and encourage him to come closer to the object of his desire.

"Kiss me," I tell him. He brings his mouth close to my panty covered pussy. "Just my legs for now." I tease. It's almost like telling a child to eat his vegetables before desert, except my man loves his vegetables. His mouth finds the soft spot on my inner thigh, right below the leg opening of my panties. He licks and kisses this spot with care not to get carried away and taste the for now forbidden fruit. Were I not so aroused, I'd be giggling from being tickled in this sensitive spot. Because I am aroused, a moan escapes my mouth, a little wetness escapes my sex. He works his lips, tongue and teeth back down my inner thigh to my stocking top, then switches legs and works from the stocking top back up to my panties. His eyes tear themselves away from my still covered pussy, just long enough to lock with my eyes and silently plead for what he wants.

I make him wait. I love the way his blue eyes stare up at me from between my thighs, filled with pure desire. Once I give permission, it will be a while before I see them again. A smile creeps across my face as the moment extends just past comfortable.

"Kiss my panties." They may be his most favorite words in all the world's languages, and I can barely complete the sentence before his mouth is pressed to the crotch of my silky under things, kissing and caressing my wonton vagina through my sexy underwear. The feeling of the pressure of his mouth and the silkiness of my panties is divine. It is in this moment that I understand him and his kink, everything about the moment is pure sex.

He devours me, pulling my juices through my panties and onto his tongue, and I give him plenty to lick up. He is mindful of my clit and spends lots of time giving this part of my sex plenty of attention through the panties. Occasionally for variety sake he returns to my thighs or kisses my pelvic bone and hips, right above the waistband, but always returns quickly to my pantied pussy.

He is not allowed to use his hands during this time, and he struggles with balance and keeping my legs where he wants them. He once complained, saying he could please me much more if his hands were in play. I told him he pleases me without them, and he is to do as I say. He likes it when I am in charge. I like that I can essentially handcuff him without the need for handcuffs.

It usually doesn't take him long to make me cum right there in my panties; gyrating against his mouth as I moan in ecstasy from his efforts. I usually put my hand on the back of his head and pull him into me while I orgasm. He tells me he loves the power of this position, his goddess pulling him to her while she writhes in pleasure. I'm always a little nervous I'm going to suffocate my husband in my cunt. Which I think would make a funny headline.

He stays between my thighs as I come down from my peak arousal, nuzzling my panties, but not daring to press too hard against my overly stimulated sex. When I've recovered enough to make my words come out right I command him to look at me.

His eyes find mine and I wait for him to do what he's supposed to do, we've done this too many times for me to have to command him. It never takes him too long to remember.

"Thank you for letting me please you." He says. It's quite a dominant feeling to be both the recipient of the orgasm, and then get thanked for allowing the man to give it to me. Yummy!

"You're welcome. Take me to the bedroom." I order. He grins and stands. His dick isn't very hard in his panties. I take it as another sign of his devotion. He was so into my orgasm, he forgot about his own cock.

He reaches out his hand and I take it. He helps me up from the couch and my skirt falls back into place. I feel extra naughty in my soaked panties as he guides me down the hall to our bedroom. Once there I find everything is the way it's supposed to be. The bed is made (It wasn't when we left for work that morning), all the clothes are picked up, candles provide the only light the room.

"Good boy." I whisper.

"Thank you." James says, again, he is very polite when he's wearing girl panties.

"Down." I tell him, and he lowers to his knees. We have refined this to the point where a lot of talking isn't really needed.

"Undress me." I command.

James starts by unzipping my skirt and sliding it down my legs. Once I've stepped out of the skirt, he folds it and puts it on the dresser. In subservient mode, he respects not only me, but anything that is mine. Next he takes my hand and guides me to the chest that sits at the foot of our bed. I take a seat and watch my man as he dutifully unbuttons my blouse and gently slides it off my shoulders. Again, he carefully folds my blouse and places it with my skirt. James returns to me to take my bra. He loves my tits, and he gazes longingly at them as they are revealed to him.

He is about to take the bra to the dresser when I pull him to my 32c's, he begins to kiss my breasts, and I allow him to make full use of his hands this time as he kisses and sucks my boobs. I keep him in this position for a long time. My breasts are sensitive and I love to have them sucked. At some point I remember to move my stocking covered foot between his legs and caress his cock and balls through his panties. My breast stifles a moan as my foot massages him. Up until this moment, everything we've done is about pleasing me. It's time for my man to get what he deserves.

When I've had enough of his lips on my breasts, which there can almost never be enough, I pull his head away from me and stare into his eyes as I continue to stroke his dick with my foot. Early in our relationship, this is the point where I would make him thank me for touching him. But as our play became more advanced, I could find all the thanks I needed in his baby blues.

At some point, I'll judge his arousal to be too great and I'll stop masturbating him with my foot. "Stockings." I say.

He takes one leg in his hands, bringing my foot to his mouth. He massages my calf as he licks my toes through my stockings. He starts to kiss up my leg and pays extra attention to the spot behind my knee cap, holding my leg outstretched over his head as he kisses me in this most sensitive place. As he's working my calf and knee with his mouth, his hands are rolling my stockings down my thigh. Once my stocking is rolled to where he is kissing, he pulls the stocking all the way off my leg, giving my toes one last kiss before freeing it completely. Then he repeats the process with my other leg.

Once my stockings are off, I sometimes, make him give me another orgasm through my panties with his mouth. I only do that when I'm particularly horny or being a little selfish. He never complains. Next I move back onto the bed and roll over on my stomach. My legs are spread, and I'm propped up on my elbows. I glance over my shoulder with a come hither stare that leaves no doubt about its intention, even in dim candle light. "Take off your panties." I tell him.

James stands and removes the panties that have held his manhood captive all day. By now he's too aroused to remember his manners and unlike the rest of my clothes, this garment is carelessly cast onto the floor.

James likes my tits, but he loves my ass. By all accounts I have a nice rear and he loves to pinch me, give me little spanks, and make inappropriate comments all the time. Now in this setting he doesn't get to do any of those things, because he is under my control, but he still gets to worship this part of my anatomy, and I don't need to tell him to do it.

James crawls onto the bed between my legs. I toss my long chestnut hair around playfully, anticipating what he is about to do. Once he finds the spot between my legs that he likes, he is required to spend the next several minutes kissing my ass all over my panties. I have a sensitive derrière and I love having him press his lips to my rear and worshiping me in this somewhat humiliating, but extremely sexy way. My favorite part is when he kisses me along the edge of the leg holes of my panties, right at the lower side of my ass, mmmmm. He also knows to press his tongue between my cheeks and pleasure my crevice.

In a different setting I might like a little spanking with my ass kissing, but I'm running this show and it wouldn't do to have the dominatrix on the receiving end of the spanking. When I've had enough kissing, I give him the order to stop, and to remove my panties with his teeth.

He wrestles with the panties; the only help I give him is to prop my hips up slightly so he can pull them down over my thighs. Once he has them all the way off my legs he comes back for more ass kissing. I don't let it go on quite as long this time. By now I'm ready to have his dick inside of me and I can't stand any more foreplay.

I roll over and motion him to lie down on his back.

As always, James does what he's told and I admire his rock hard cock jutting away from his otherwise lean muscular body. I find my panties on the bed and take them in my hand. His tongue has been all over the garment already, but I hold them to his mouth for one more long lick. Then I trail the moist, slinky garment down his chest, making him purr. When I reach his dick I twirl the panties around his manhood, letting the fabric dance on his aroused member. I delight in his moans as I toy with him. Finally when neither of us can take it any more I wrap the panties around his dick and start to stroke him slowly.

James bucks his hips to meet my thrusts, but I shush him and make him lie still while I continue to stroke his dick.

"Do you like my panties?" I whisper.

"Very much." He says.

"Do they feel good against my dick?" As a matter of my dominance over him, I refer to his sex as my personal possession.

"Ah huh." He says, his pulse quickening, his breath becoming more labored.

"Do you want me to fuck you now?" I tease.

"Yes." There is a kind of desperation in his voice.

"Ask me." I tell him.

"Fuck me." He says. His need has supplanted his manners.

"Ask me nice." I say softly, continuing to stoke his cock. I've allowed part of the panties to hang down below my hand and tease his balls as I play with him.

"Please fuck me Kate." He breathes the words more than says them.

I reposition the panties so that they are covering the head of his penis. I straddle him, grabbing his panty coved dick with my hand between my legs and rub the tip against my opening.

Now my breathing is becoming heavy. I can feel his pre cum soaking through my panties and when I'm ready, I envelope his throbbing dick, panties and all. I begin to move up and down on him, feeling him finally inside me makes me purr as I ride him.

James moves his hips to meet my effort and the sound of our bodies colliding is music to my ears.

"Do you like fucking my panties James?" I ask him.

"Ah huh!" is all he can manage in his current state.

"Do you like fucking my panties more than you like fucking me?" It's a stupid unfair question, but I'm the dominatrix, and nothing about this is supposed to be fair. It doesn't matter, he can't answer the question, he's too far into his arousal to deal with the verbal trap I laid down for him.

"James, do you want me to let you cum in my panties?" I'm struggling to keep up with my teasing as my own excitement rises from within.

"Ah huh!" James moans; his vocabulary is extremely limited when he's nearing the edge.

"Ask me." It's the best I can do at this point. His cock is driving me wild and if he's not going to cum in my panties, I sure as hell am.

"Plea... please can I... I want to...." He can't speak, I love that I we make each other speechless.

For my part, I can no longer find the words to give him permission to fill my panties, and my pussy with his cream. It doesn't matter, the Hoover damn can't hold back his orgasm and he explodes beneath me, bucking wildly as he moans from somewhere deep inside his body.

The warm cum jetting into me, and the sound of his primal groans sends me over the edge and I squirm in pleasure atop my kinky husband. My own breathy moans echo through the room as I cum, collapsing finally atop his chest. He wraps his arms around me, and mutters his thanks into my ear.

I roll off of him; he has one more submissive duty to perform before we become just man and wife once again. He crawls between my thighs and uses his teeth to remove my very very dirty panties from inside my pussy. This garment finds its way to the floor and James finds me under the covers. He wraps his arms around me, his appreciation for me doesn't need to be spoken.

I don't know why I married a panty slave, but I'm so glad I did.