Silver Panties
Every day I passed The Beautiful Lingerie Shop, that's what it is called, The Beautiful Lingerie Shop, and every day I stopped by its window and gazed at the posters of beautiful women posing in underwear. There was a particular model who riveted me, a beautiful woman in tiny, shiny silver panties. One foot was slightly set ahead of the other, hips thrust forward. She wore silver high-heels, and her legs were long and shapely. She wore silver stockings, their embossed lacy tops attached to a diaphanous silver garter belt that encircled her waist. The silver panties sheathed her, below the prominent hipbones; under them, her Venus mound was thrust forward. On top, all she was wearing was the skimpiest lacy bustier I have ever seen, of the same laminated silver as the panties. With the hand that was not on her hip, she was reaching up over her head, which was thrown back a little arrogantly, reaching toward a bunch of lilacs. Every day I stood immobilized there, dazed, hypnotized by the sight.
Too shy to join a gym, and too vain not to want the most perfect body I could have, I worked out in my small apartment every night for at least an hour, and I often looked at myself and pretended I was someone else, whom I desired, in despair, for it was, of course, only a reflection of myself that could never be mine in the flesh. As for the silver panties, I wished I could see myself in them, but, as I said, I was shy, too shy even to go into a men's shop to buy some male bikini underwear. Even in department stores, I could never get myself to go up to the register with underwear I liked. I always bough a plastic-wrapped package of three white cotton briefs that had hardly any shape. Sometimes, in front of my mirror, I turned the waistband down several times and tried to make it look like I was wearing a bikini. Even if I squinted, reality pushed its way back between my eyelids and frustrated my desire and strengthened my longing and my despair.
Thursday afternoon, it threatened to rain. I had left in the morning without either a raincoat or an umbrella. I was wearing my good suit – I had gone on a job interview – and I feared, when I saw the weather change, that it would get wet and ruined. Nevertheless, even though I was walking fast, rushing home, I stopped in front of The Beautiful Lingerie Shop and lingered there fascinated by the poster of the girl with the silver panties.
The street was darkening and the rain began to hit and I ran into the doorway. A salesgirl inside – I thought she was a salesgirl; it turned out it was her shop -- saw me and opened the door. "Come in," she said. "You are going to get soaked."
"Thank you," I said.
"This is not the first time I have seen you," she said. "You like to look in my window."
I blushed. She saw it. "Does it embarrass you?" she asked. "Does what embarrass me?" I returned her question.
"To like this kind of stuff."
I closed my eyes, as if that could make me disappear. Instead, it made me feel her palm gently upon my cheek and hear her say, "My poor baby, let me show you some of our wares. It's ok to like them."
"But don't you have to close?" I said.
"But I don't have to go. It's my shop. I can lock the door and then we can stay and have a private showing."
She was very beautiful, very sexy. She looked like the model in the silver panties. It was hard for me to look at her. She knew it. She smiled at me. "Don't be afraid," she said. But I was shaking. Outside it was dark, it was pouring, and there were flashes of lightening following peals of thunder.
She turned the key. "Come," she said, extending her hand, "I think I know what you like."
"You know what I like?" I protested.
"I told you I have see you standing looking in my window before, and I saw what usually had you enthralled." We spoke as she guided me through the store.
"Here they are," she said, "Silver panties," and she opened a pair for me. "You're blushing again," she said. "They really must turn you on."
"They do," I blurted out before I had time to stop myself.
"Wonderful! Me, too," she said. "Would you like to try them on?"
"What?" I said.
"You heard me. Don't be silly. Go try them on." I hesitated. She insisted, "I want to see you." I made a face of helpless capitulation. "I'll show you where the dressing room is."
She showed me and she followed me in. "Are you staying here?" I demanded. "Ignore me," she said. "Pretend I'm not even here."
"That won't be easy to do."
"Why not?" she smiled.
"Because you are here," I said.
"Well, then," she said. "So I am. In that case, why don't you get completely undressed for me. Then I can see exactly what would be right for you."
"Oh, no," I groaned. "Perhaps I better leave."
"When there's a storm like that outside."
"It can't be worse than the storm in here."
"Take off your clothes," she said, turning the key in the door and slipping it into the pocket of her mini skirt."
"Do I have a choice?" I said.
"Exactly," she said.
I slipped out of my suit jacket, laid it on a nearby bench, sat down on the same bench, untied my shoes, and took them off. Standing again, I unbuckled my belt and stepped out of my trousers. I had a debilitating sense of how foolish I looked standing there in shirt tails and a tie, baggy cotton briefs, socks that were falling around my ankles, and bare hairy legs. "Must we go on?" I implored.
"This is only the beginning," she said, "but the worst is over. You'll see. Take off the rest." I did.
"You are really a foolish boy," she said.
"I don't understand," I replied.
"To hide a great body under all that ugly clothing, to be so careless of your grooming."
I looked at her stupidly. "Don't worry," she said. "Come with me." She took me into a large and very beautiful bathroom.
The room was replete with mirrors and lilac-colored tiles in the few places where there were no mirrors. "Take a look at yourself." "How can I avoid it?"
She laughed and said "You can't. Now, be serious. Look at yourself. Really look."
Ok, I looked. This was getting weird.
"Now, I want you to tell me about yourself. About what you see. What you like and what you don't like."
I hesitated. "Here." she said and handed me the joint she had just lighted and from which she had taken a hit. "Now, tell me."
"I'm in pretty good shape," I said. She nodded her head. "What else?"
"I don't like how hairy I am."
"You're not very hairy,"
"Still," I said, hesitating but impelled to go on. "Still, I don't like it. You said to say what I don't like about myself."
"And what you do like."
"I'd like my skin to be smooth like yours."
"That's easy," she said, smiling. "Come here."
By now, I was following her orders and beginning to enjoy it.
"This won't hurt," she said. "It's depilitating cream. You'll keep it on for five minutes and then wash it all off in the shower."
Naked as I was she rubbed the cream onto my whole body including my scrotum and pubic region. "Even here," she said, but when it grows back we can trim it and shape it the way we like." As she spoke she wagged my cock, which had gotten very hard. I tried to pull back, but she held me, despite her gentleness, firmly. "None of that," she said. "You like it, and I like it too," she said and pressed little kisses on the tip. "Now into the shower." I came out glistening, and she was ready with a towel, which she wrapped around me as she faced me and softly patted me dry. I stood quietly as she did. Then she studied the hair on my head. That abundant mop of sandy brown hair she had not depilitated. She squeezed her lips together and nodded her head and began to comb and style my hair until she was satisfied. "Don't touch it till it's dry," she said. "But you can look at yourself in the mirror now. Little silver ear rings will go very well for every day, and I have beautiful bangles for dressy." Wherever I turned my eyes, I saw my reflection. I was afraid of what I saw.
"Here," she said, handing me a pair of silver panties. "Put them on."
I took them from her and held them for a moment feeling how thin and weightless they were. I stepped into them and pulled them up my legs, which were now smooth and very shapely, as far as they would go to my crotch. They kissed my scrotum and the skin of my penis, tucked down, to give the suggestion of a cunt. The fabric rose only slightly higher on the sides. Despite how fiercely they excited me, I knew somehow that I did not want to get an erection. It would ruin the aesthetic. I felt a wave of energy rushing up in me from my anus towards my chest, and I strained forward, projecting my tight nipples.
"You are a beautiful girl," she said. "You're my girl." She stood and kissed me and placed her hand over my cock. "I want to feel your mound of Venus," she said, "and your clitty-cock." Then she took my hand and brought it near her. "And I want you to feel mine. She touched my hand to her and I felt underneath her skirt her shaft. "We are the same," she said. "You are my mirror. I am yours. We are each other. She slipped open her blouse and her beautiful chest was naked to me, her nipples rouged in coral. When she put her mouth to mine and kissed me I responded and brought her to intoxication, for I was drunk myself and found myself deep inside her, playing in her depths and always holding on to her and bringing her to me. Our bodies gleamed and swam in each other as she took possession of me.
"You know you can't just go around in silver panties," she said. "You need a whole wardrobe, one that I especially choose for you, because you know that you are always dressing – or undressing – just for me.
I had it so bad that every word she uttered made me tremble with pleasure and desire. And I never felt more comfortable. There was a bedroom in the back of the store, and we spent the night there.
It was Sunday morning and she was not opening the shop. "I'll show you what to wear. You need several changes to reflect your changing moods.
If it were a movie, the scene would be a montage of accumulation, of tops and skirts and heels and boots, of hats and jeans and jackets, of me posing, bare, in underwear, clothed, in city streets, at a farm, in the snow, on the beach.
"Suzy, this cannot be a closet affaire," Mandie said to me. She had begun to call me Suzy, first when we fucked, then all the time, and I responded to it proudly.
"You are a beautiful girl. I want to be with you where people can see us," she said, kissing and stroking me. We virtually lived by kissing. "We cannot stay locked up."
We dressed particularly provocatively, stockings, heels, hot pants hardly lower than the crotch, with garters visible, skimpy bustiers, bare midriffs, and walked by the river. I confess: I had butterflies, bees, too. Mandie said that she felt great and loved walking by the river under the stars with me. She liked being seen with me. She felt like she was showing me off. And everyone who passed us was looking. She took my hand and kissed me on the lips and we kept walking, leaning on each other as if we were drunk.
Two boys approached us, adorable, and nineteen at most and, although they could not see it, I could, they were slightly feminine.
"Are the two of you lesbians?" the lanky blond one asked with a devious smile.
His friend slapped him on the arm.
"I want to know," he said.
"What does it matter?"
"What does anything matter? I want to know."
"If you want to know, come home with us," Mandie said.
"Now see what you've gotten us into," his dark-haired friend who had a certain...Persian?...look said to him.
It's ok," -- we were to learn his name was Sebastian – Sebastian said. "Sure," he said to us. "I'm not too sure," other one said.
"Don't be difficult," I said to him, with as much seductive charm as I had learned so far, slipped my arm through his, but he pulled away. "This is not the way things ought to be done," he said. "I am not going. You go if you want to. I am not."
"I am," Sebastian said. He was like a boy in a toy store when we entered the shop. "You live here?" he said, his eyes popping out of his head.
"This is my shop," Mandie answered. "There's a studio in the back where I can stay when I have to work late. I do have a little place uptown on the east side. You're into clothing. Aren't you?
"I guess I am. Yeah, I like it when a girl gets all dolled-up for me."
"You like the way we're `dolled-up?"
He blushed.
"You are so sweet," Mandie said, and kissed him, ambiguously, on the cheek. But it was enough for him. He put his arm around her waist and did not let her go, but pressed her to him and kissed her with cock pride, and felt inflamed when she returned his kisses with fierier passion. He ran his hand down her lovely ass and touched her thighs. She did not resist but made herself more pliant to his will. She slipped her hand into his jeans, unbuckling his belt with unheard of dexterity and took his cock in her tender hand and pushed him to the wall. They devoured each other in an erotic embrace, each of them climbing to unbearable heights of excitement, as she intended, and then he broke, but she subsided.
"You came," she said.
He blushed. She held him by the chin. "Don't be ashamed. Most boys need to be taught how to please a girl."
I took his hand and led him to Mandie's bedroom. "But you have stained your trousers," I said, and we cannot let you leave looking like that."
Mandie shut the lights and I lit candles.
Inside the amber chamber, Mandi shook her head when Sebastian tried to kiss her. "Suzy, come here," she said and brought me near her with a turn of her lithely muscled and graceful bare arm, and pressed me to her. She pressed her breast to mine and kissed the breath out of me. I melted into her and felt her yield to me with an intensity of desire so strong that it felt like love. We pressed ourselves together, hidden cock to hidden cock and raced to crest beyond heaven and saw the silver fireworks breaking in a golden molten distance.
Mandie unhooked my bustier and revealed by beautiful and smooth and gently muscled male chest. She pulled open the snap of my skimpy cut-offs and peeled them down until they fell to the floor and I, still in silver panties, heels, and stockings, stepped out of them and stood in front of her. She gazed with worshipful desire at my stocking-tops and the sexy, smooth thighs above them, and at the tiny silver panties I wore .
She took Sebastian's hand in hers. He had taken his clothes off and was standing with a full erection looking at me. She took his hand and touched it to my mound of Venus. Unable not to we kissed and he caressed me, feeling my cock and scrotum and sighed. He dropped to his knees and with great delicacy and reverence, lowered my silver panties and took me in his mouth and held me in the womb of his warm saliva. I grew big in him and he began to suck and swallow me. Excitement trembled joyously throughout our bodies and he wagged his tail. I came near bursting. Mandie gently drew me away from him, slipping her fingers between his lips and my cock, leaving him panting with desire. She touched my rosebud and I opened to her. All the trembling now was a throbbing in my center, an impossible desire for her to be in me. She lay me on my back and lay herself on top of me and I cradled her in my thighs and wrapped my pretty legs around her and thrust myself up to her. She entered me. She touched the tip and danced into me, and I sobbed with joy, no longer constraining myself. I clawed my way up the steep of desire and stretched more tautly and filled myself with her until I burst. Sebastian lay next to us and rubbed himself against us until he came and then tongued his copious emission off our skin, as if he were our big and frisky dog companion playing with us. We rumpled his hair.
"You like this, huh?" Mandie said with a caress in her voice.
Mandie looked at me and smiled. Her eyes were bright and glazed like diamonds, glinting as I gazed into them. In the distance, Sebastian played in the rushing tide where the ocean breaks, foaming upon the sand. I smiled back at her. I liked where I was. I liked what I was. I liked everything about me. The sun was shining. I was posing by the craggy cliffs that pressed at their base into the translucent blue sea.
She stepped a few paces away from me and got me on the screen at the back of the camera. "I'm going to get this blown up and put it in the window next to the girl you liked to gaze at," she said. I knew she would. I thrust my hip further forward, looked ever so slightly over my shoulder, pouted seductively. I was a goddess ready to be adored, in my silver panties.