tagIllustratedThe Panty Perils of Me 09

The Panty Perils of Me 09


I have met with Dr. Thrasher a number of times now, although not as his patient. He said that he would prefer to have me as a study case instead.
I am fine with this since I am getting all of the benefits of therapy without having to pay, although I am wondering what the real reason is that he would prefer to not have me as his patient.

I do need to admit something though. Dr. Thrasher has told me that it is important that I not feel ashamed of myself and to embrace my activities as a part of my true self.
So I have a little confession to make.

I only told you half of the story as Jackie and I sat on the fallen tree after Dr. T left us.
I did tell you that she had reached between my legs to feel how wet I was. What I didn’t tell you was that she kept her hand there. More specifically, she kept her fingers pushing right up against my g chord, if you understand my reference.
I was excited. More excited than I had been in a while, which is saying a lot.
Jackie found my rigid little chord immediately and began playing a most erotic tune.

She did this thing with her fingers gently rubbing me through my panties from the top of my open lips down to the bottom. I was so wet that the nylon fabric clung like a second skin to all of my swollen parts, so I could feel her fingers gliding across my extending nub, driving me crazy.
Once she had my lips fully parted she started to vibrate her two fingers right on top of my throbbing chord creating a sensation much more intense than any vibrator I have ever used.
There was no doubt that she knew how to play my instrument.

I turned towards her burying my head into her shoulder and spreading my knees as wide as I could. She just kept strumming my chord until my breathing changed to something akin to a locomotive rushing towards oblivion.
Somehow Jackie knew all of the signs of the onrushing orgasm about to invade my body. My crotch was making a splooching kind of sound as she continued to work her magic.

Knowing that at any time another group of witnesses might happen upon our vignette of debauchery only served to quicken the pace of my excitement.

It felt like being in another world; one that is made up of pure sexual pleasure.

All five senses were fully engaged in the sensations of my approaching orgasm. I was whimpering like a sex starved animal into Jackie’s shoulder begging her to vibrate her fingers faster and faster over my hard knot.

The first orgasm (Yes, I said first orgasm) hit me like a tsunami and as I squeezed my thighs together as tightly as possible to increase the sensation, Jackie expertly balled up her hand allowing me to trap it right up against my open lips.
I did a very poor job of stifling my loud groan of ecstasy trying not to bite her shoulder as my entire body convulsed with pleasure.

It took a long time for the final convulsion to leave my body as I was now covered in sweat from the physical release.

Ordinarily that would have been that, but not for Jackie.

Once I relaxed my thigh grip on her hand, her fingers found my chord again and continued to play.

The splooching sound became soggier as my panties were now soaked with my juice.
I felt like I might pass out form the intensity of the raw gratification taking over my body.
I pushed my crotch into Jackie’s magic fingers as if trying to impale myself on them.

I no longer cared about anything or anyone. My full concentration was on achieving the next orgasm

It might have been after my third orgasm when I needed to lift my head up from her shoulder to take in a huge gulp of fresh air. As I took one large breath after another, Jackie pushed her lips against mine biting me on my lower lip.
The pain was exquisite causing me to open my mouth wide in reaction to her assault. She pushed her tongue as far as it would go into my mouth, and as I orgasmed for the fourth time, I wrapped my lips around it and sucked on it as if I wanted her to ejaculate into my mouth.

As our lips parted a long string of saliva reached from her mouth to mine. My legs were now fully extended and wide, wide apart as Jackie took her two fingers inserting them inside the elastic of my panties and then starting at the lowest part of my open vagina brought them all of the way up to the bottom of my mound in a wiping motion.
She then took the same hand and sucked my liquid from her fingers while making an “Mmmmmmm” sound in the process.

I didn’t know what to do and was too exhausted anyway as Jackie brought her mouth up to mine again pushing her tongue inside while I sucked on my own excretions like a desert survivor suffering from dehydration.

Surprisingly no one had walked by while Jackie had her way with me. At least I don’t think so, although I am doubtful whether I would have noticed anyway.

When she was finally finished and I had a chance to breath again, Jackie put her wet hand on my leg saying with a big smile, “Lawrence has helped me embrace the fact that I am a gay exhibitionist.”

“So what does that make me?” I thought to myself.

Thankfully Jackie reminded me to rebutton my dress, as my mind was now a pile of mush. With her holding my hand, we walked back to my car where she planted another kiss on my lips saying, “Call me”.

So that kind of gets me to the present and my working relationship with Dr. Thrasher.

I have shared some things with him, afraid to let him know everything about me. Heck, I don’t even know everything about me. And now he is asking me to try some exercises while he records my reactions.

Yesterday he sent me an email asking me to wear a normal outfit with a swimming suit underneath for our regularly scheduled appointment.
We normally meet either at his office on campus or in an enclosed room designed specifically for these types of experiments i.e. no windows or furniture other than a table and chairs.
On this particular day, I was meeting with him in his office.
I put on one of my summer skirts along with a t-shirt top over my swimming suit and showed up at the appointed time.

We talked for a little while and then he told me that he wanted to try a specific exercise with me. “Is that OK with you?” he asked and I nodded.
“ I want you to strip in front of me to just your swimming suit and heels while at the same time telling me what you are feeling as you remove your clothing.” He said.

I wasn’t quite sure if I had heard him correctly as I stood in front of him with a questioning look on my face.
He repeated, “I am trying to find out what your sexual behaviors are and how you feel about them. So take off your t-shirt and skirt one at a time while you tell me exactly what is going through your mind as well as any physical reactions that you are experiencing as you strip.”

I wanted to act ignorant again, but I understood exactly what he was asking me to do.
“So you want me to start telling you everything going on inside of me right now?” I asked.
Dr. Thrasher answered, “Exactly, starting right now.”

So I began my narrative for him:

“I am feeling a mixture of anxiety, wondering why I should do this, and at the same time excited. I have knots in my stomach thinking about undressing in front of you particularly since I was taught early on that certain behaviors like stripping for someone is not considered appropriate. And it certainly isn’t something that any woman should ever feel excited about.
But it is exactly these thoughts that make me want to do it.
I want to feel bad, naughty, even wicked. I want to be seen as sexy and leered at by men.”

I reached for the bottom of my t-shirt pulling it up over my head and then sliding it off of my arms. My nipples were already at full attention pushing provocatively against the unlined material of my triangle bra.
I sat down on a high chair that Dr. Thrasher had placed in the middle of his office. I put one of my high-heeled feet on the bottom-rung letting the other foot remain on the floor.
The act of sitting on such a high chair pulled my already short skirt up to my middle thigh.

I stared into Dr. Thrasher’s eyes watching him struggle to not look at my legs or the little space I had left open between my thighs. It made my heart race to see him fight his impulses.

I guess that I should have told him that, but I was embarrassed to reveal how aroused this all made me.

I continued, “ I am visibly shaking at the idea that my skirt comes next. I feel confused over my desire to show off and my heart is beating out of my chest.”

Dr. Thrasher did not respond, but continued to record my every word.

I stood back up taking a hold of the waistband of my skirt and pulling it away from my waist and down my legs.

“I am finding it difficult to swallow and am feeling very flush.” I told him.

The real truth was that I was feeling a most pleasant sensation invading my most private area.

Holding my skirt at about knee height I picked up one leg at a time and stepped out of my skirt. Little beads of sweat were starting to form on my back and between my breasts.

“Do you feel excited?” he asked me.

“No, I mean, sort of, I mean, Yes.’ I answered embarrassed to admit it to him.

He had me face him standing in just my tiny yellow string bikini-swimming suit. It felt weird to be standing barely dressed while Dr. Thrasher looked me over and wrote in his notebook. It was the writing in his notebook that felt weird as I have become accustomed to receiving the undivided attention of anyone that I have had to strip for.
I was disappointed and a little angry with him to be treated so clinically.

“How do you feel now?” he inquired.

I flat out lied when I said, “OK.”

“Do you realize that your lips are swollen and pushing against the crotch of your bikini bottoms?” he stated matter of factly.

I flushed crimson hearing him remark on my obvious excitement.

“ and your nipples are obviously erect.”

“Also, I never instructed you as to what kind of swimming suit you should wear and yet you stand in front of me in one of the tiniest suits I have ever seen.”

I couldn’t deny anything nor offer any sort of explanation. When I had read his email containing the instructions for this meeting, I immediately picked out one of my smallest suits knowing that I would be showing as much of me as possible to him.
As these thoughts rushed through my mind I could feel my lower lips quiver feeling a warm moist sensation starting to form right between my legs.

I liked to be looked at. I wanted to be looked at. I needed to be looked at.

And when I feel this way I want to be spanked.

It all was too much for me.

I grabbed my skirt and t-shirt and fled out the door, hearing Dr. Thrasher’s voice telling me to stop.

I am wondering how strange it was for all of the students that I passed to see a 40-year-old Mom rushing past them in just a yellow string bikini. I doubt that it is a regular occurrence on campus, although lately all of my campus activities have been highly irregular.

I got to my car and just sat there shaking uncontrollably. I was very wet again.

I know that I had shared this with Jackie, but it still was just too humiliating to realize that I enjoy the combination of fear and excitement that arrives every time I am told to strip.
It overloads my senses to the point that I become aroused…very aroused.

It is almost like a drug to me and I wonder if I can ever get back to a normal life again or even I want to.

Everything that has been happening to me goes against all of the principles of proper behavior that I was taught growing up. But this is not as simple as an act of rebellion. It is as if I have taken a taste of the forbidden fruit and I want more.... much more.

I don’t know whether I can continue meeting with Dr. T. Right now I am just too ashamed.

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