N Van Heller: A panty compulsion

The long low Jaguar cruised through the park like a slinking animal stalking its prey, pausing for a moment while the voluptuously sensual woman inside shifted gears, then the car soared effortlessly up the winding road ahead.

At that moment, Sally Baxter, the honey-haired blonde behind the wheel, was hardly aware of the battered black Plymouth following several hundred yards behind. Other things were whirling through her mind… other more important things… like handsome young boys! She knew she would find them here… she had to find them!

It was getting urgent now. Her head was pounding, her throat was dry as sandpaper and a strange nervous trembling had seized her entire curvaceous body so that her hands shook noticeably as she held the steering wheel. A light sweat began to break out on her forehead as, almost unconsciously, she reached for the top button of her blouse and undid them one by one. Casually, the flimsy see-through material fell away from the ripely swelling cleavage of her young breasts until just a hint of the rich white mounds protruded from her brassiere.

Slowing the flashy sports car to a prowl, Sally hungrily scanned the fields along the side of the road… God, nothing yet! Where were they all hiding, those young innocent boys that she needed so badly? Didn't they know she wasn't going to hurt them? Didn't they understand that she needed them… needed them to watch her as she spread her legs apart and salaciously ran her fingers over the soft silkiness of her white bikini panties?

If only she could control herself… but she had been possessed by the lewd urge to expose her panties ever since the age of thirteen… ever since the obscene day when her uncle had come into her bedroom and locked the door behind him. God, she could remember every second of the depraved experience now… the twisted lust-contorted expression on his face, the filthy things he had said to her… even the way he had moved menacingly toward her as she backed off toward the wall step by step.

Her mind's eye blurred in confusion as it focused on a tangle of arms and legs, as it watched herself as a young helpless girl being thrown on the bed, her clothes violently ripped away from her until she was left with nothing but her little white panties, struggling to hold them on while her passion-crazed uncle fought to tear them away.

Even now the memory of the wicked event was making her head throb like a jackhammer. And then, miraculously out of the corner of the eye she sighted what she had been looking for all along!

There at the side of the road only a hundred feet away stood a whole enticing group of teenage boys gathered around a picnic table… handsome innocent young boys who sent electrical thrills pulsing through her grown womanly body. No, Sally, no, a tiny inner voice warned her. Don't do it here, there are too many of them. They'll tell someone, you'll be discovered. Wait, wait, the voice cautioned, though her loins were already burning with a forbidden passion that could only be satisfied by the lewd act.

The obscene temptation was unbearable. Those young boys were gaping wildly at her now, they had seen the suggestive way she had undone her blouse. God, they were so youthful, so responsive. They were whistling at her. Her warmly pulsing pussy was beginning to throb and ache all over as the first tiny droplets of excited moisture seeped into the close clinging crotch-band of her skimpy panties. The tiny voice inside her mind began to scream and shriek at her, until in response she jammed down on the accelerator, lurching the car powerfully up the road ahead only to leave the young boys dangling behind in their lewd daydreams.

At that very moment the stocky man in the black Plymouth stepped down hard on his own accelerator, inadvertantly jostling the expensive movie camera laying on the front seat. Catching it out of the corner of his eye, he winced painfully. Hell, Nestor, he chided himself, you can't take chances with an expensive piece of equipment like that, not when it's going to get you all the evidence you need on that sexy Baxter dame.

Picking up speed the Jaguar powered around a sharp bend. Every second now Sally was becoming more passionately desperate. God, if she could only find some young boys in a quiet secluded place. Only then, when she had acted out her licentious fantasy in front of them, would she be cured of the terrible headache and nervous trembling that afflicted her.

Row after row of dark pine trees whizzed by on either side of the road until a grassy clearing opened up. Sally slammed on the brake as she suddenly caught sight of two young boys playing a harmless game of catch. God… at last, she breathed in relief, pulling the car hurriedly over to the side of the road.

From the distance the two handsome youngsters looked to be fifteen or sixteen. The oldest boy, who had removed his tee-shirt, was taller than his stocky friend, and Sally could see his youthfully well-formed muscles straining sensually as he leaped up in the air with his glove for an overthrown ball. Already the lascivious excitement of wild anticipation was crawling like a furry caterpillar all over her passion-starved body. This was the perfect place. No one in the world would ever discover her here!

But as this reassuring thought flashed through her mind, the black Plymouth rounded the last bend before the hollow. Completely oblivious to the man who was shadowing her, Sally's eagerly aroused body began to shiver with tingling excitement. She slid out from behind the driver's seat, slammed the door shut and set out to pick her way carefully through the uncut grass toward the bowl-shaped hollow below where she had sighted the young boys.

About a hundred yards away she noticed a tall shade tree that would make a perfect shelter from the curious eyes of anyone else who might happen to wander by. It was as though fate had guided her to this place, as though she were being inexorably drawn to the innocent teenagers by some hypnotic magnet…

Goddamn! Finally! It's about time, Nestor Burns thought to himself. The Baxter dame he'd been following for a week was about to make her move. Approaching cautiously, Burns brought his Plymouth to a halt beside the now-deserted Jaguar. With the engine still revving in neutral, he hopped out, clicked the door shut and scanned the area in front of him.

The blonde had vanished… at least that was his first thought, but then, shading his eyes, he caught sight of her provocatively moving form. Sure enough, she was heading right toward those two young kids! It all made sense now… the way she had slowed down in front of those other teenagers gathered around the picnic table… the way she had been impatiently cruising around the park all day. Damn, he should have known it all along. She was going to throw a trick to those kids. She was hot stuff all right, and her husband was going to be very interested in how she spent her afternoons. Ten to one, he'd be willing to pay plenty for some juicy little home movies.

Burns surveyed the situation and decided the best shots would come from the other side of the hollow, where he could hide himself among a grove of pines. But there was no time to waste, hurriedly, he dashed back to his car, parked it out of sight in front of the Jaguar and, with his camera in hand, began to wind his way through the woods.

At that moment the two young boys, Tom Wilson and Jimmy Crowder, were completely unaware of the two figures approaching them from different angles… and that was just as well, Sally Baxter thought to herself, because she could see their exciting teenage bodies perfectly. She could see their sweat-glistening muscles as they leaped and ran like beautiful male animals for the baseball.