Kelly Lane - Wet and ready

I could never quite get over the fact that the person I was looking at was me, and that body – that ripe, full body – was mine; I had to touch myself just to make sure that I was real.

I brought my hand back to my cunt. The hair was damp, the flesh moist and clammy. I put my index and middle fingers together and placed them just above the inward curve of the mound, in the middle of my cunt. I began to slowly rotate the fingers, sending slow throbs of excitement into the sleepy thickness of my body.

The sight thrilled me almost as much as what I was doing. I watched in the mirror as my hand moved against my cunt, barely slipping the tips of each finger into the wet slit between the lips, and touching the bud of my clitoris just enough to activate a burning warmth that made my knees tremble.

I began to rotate my hips, pushing my cunt up against the moving fingers. I saw my hips pounding in and out in the mirror. My stomach muscles undulated; my tits jiggled just enough to disturb the beads of moisture gathered there, causing them to lose their consistency so that they spilled over, sending trickles of cold water down across the burning flesh of my tits.

I stood like that, in the middle of the floor, staring at my erotic reflection for perhaps twenty seconds before I noticed the hamper in the far corner of the bathroom. A shiver of excitement went through my body at the idea.

I had to pull my hand from my cunt to initiate the idea. The thought was almost as exciting as the reality would prove to be.

I opened the top of the hamper and looked in. The mildewed odor of damp, musky clothing filled my nostrils. I sorted selectively through the dirty, discarded clothing, feeling my excitement building as though I were still finger-fucking myself. Finally I found what I wanted, and I pulled them from the pile.

It was a pair of Gus' undershorts.

I put the white garment up to my nose and inhaled deeply. I could smell the pungent sweatiness of his body.

I rubbed the material over my tits, and my nipples tingles with the contact. I held the shorts tightly in my hand, sliding them down my body until they rubbed between my legs, up against my cunt. I held the precious white garment against me, diddling myself with it. I was using Gus' undershorts under my fingers, rubbing them against my clitoris in rapid strokes of pleasure.

Sexual excitement flushed throughout my body like a odd cold sweat. It would take me only a matter of moments to come. My head spun with the thought – my cunt was pressed against the very spot where Gus' balls and cock had been. The day he wore the shorts, did he have a hard-on? Did he come in the shorts? Did he stick his erect cock through the opening and fuck Mimi while he was wearing them? The ideas drove me wild with excitement.

A knock on the door!

"Are you going to be long?"

I dropped the shorts as though they were contaminated. I recognized the voice calling to me through the door – it was Gus.

"N-No!" I stuttered, shaken. "I'm almost dry. I'll be out in a moment."

Panic seized me for the moment; and I felt my sexual arousal dissipate as suddenly as it had grown. I dashed over to the hamper with the damning evidence balled up in my hands. I was going to stuff the shorts back into the pile, hiding them back along the other dirty clothes, and covering over my moment of weakness.

But something made me stop. A new feeling came over me, a calmness. I felt confident and relaxed.

I took the shorts over to the sink-top and wrapped them carefully in my bath towel. Then I slipped my robe on, and tied it firmly against my naked body. I picked the towel up and walked very calmly over to the door and opened it. Gus was standing there, waiting.

He smiled back at me; for a moment, a flutter of panic raced through me. I was almost sure that he knew. There was something about the strange and sensual way he looked at me.

I yawned. The yawn came out stiff and false. "Gee, I'm tired," I said, covering my yawn. "I guess I'll go to bed now."

"Good idea," Gus said. "Good night, Tootsie. Sleep tight."

"Thank you," I answered, clutching the towel to my tits. "Good night, Gus."

I closed the door. I was alone in my bedroom.

I threw the towel down on the bed, and the shorts unrolled and came to rest on my pillow.

Sleep tight, I thought, giggling.

I must have fallen asleep after I masturbated because I woke with a start. The house was dark and silent. Gus' white shorts were still draped over my stomach, against my cunt.

I listened for a moment to the house. I heard no sounds or voices. Only an occasional creak or groan and the whistling rattle of the wind blowing through the blinds. Everyone was sleeping.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, clutching the shorts in my hand. Reluctantly, I held them up to my nose, trying to see whether I could separate the smell of my cunt from the musky odor of Gus' sweaty balls. I savored the aroma, feeling a residual tingle or two from my orgasm making an occasional twitching in the depths of my numbed cunt.

The shorts were slightly damp, and I blushed, remembering that, at the height of my orgasm. I had tried to shove the shorts up into my cunt-hole, as though they were a substitute for Gus' cock.

The dampness would be gone by the morning, I knew. No one would know.

Except me.

I walked slowly to the door. The coolness of the night air made my nipples grow hard. I shivered once, suddenly, as I opened the door. The house was dark.

With the undershorts in my hand, stark naked, I walked towards the bathroom.

My blood suddenly ran cold when I heard something.

For a moment I stood there in the dark, with the shorts in my hands, and held my breath. I waited with my eyes open, searching the darkness, expecting to be caught at any moment.

I stood there for perhaps thirty seconds before I forced myself to understand that the sounds were not coming after me. They were coming from down the hallway – from the master bedroom.

Why I did it, I'll never know. The sensible thing would have been to slink into the bathroom and replace the shorts in the hamper; then, in case anyone heard me moving about in the dark, to make sure that I flushed the toilet, and return to bed.

But I didn't do that. Instead, I found myself walking quietly down the dark hallway towards Gus and Mimi's bedroom, the shorts still in my hand. I walked on the tips of my toes, holding my breath, and moved an inch at a time. My eyes strained through the darkness; each time the floor creaked under my weight, I cursed silently under my breath, and waited a moment or two before I dared to move again.

The bedroom door was partially closed, and a curtain of darkness hid the room beyond. I peered into the room, trying to discern what it was that was making the noises.

Then I saw it.

It was Mimi Wells. She was on the bed, naked. Gus Wells was bent over on his knees, between her legs. I could see the pale flesh of his ass and his thighs facing me.

My heart throbbed like a pump; excitement made my mouth dry. The air that was in my lungs seemed like steam. Cautiously, I allowed it to trickle from my sealed lips in a low, sibilant whistle.

I stared in at the two unsuspecting figures. The bed faced the door, and neither of them could possibly see me looking in. Gus was on his knees, his face buried against his wife's cunt; Mimi's face was hidden by the bulk of Gus' bending body. I could stand squarely in the doorway without fear of being caught.

Yet, that very fear gripped me like a cold hand. Shivers ran up and down my skin, my muscles were like tight cords prepared to spring me to safety at a moment's notice. I was torn by two desires – to run and to stay. I think the very idea that I could be caught actually heightened my excitement, and fixed me even more firmly in that doorway.