Trinity – Part 1 Provenance
Footsteps on the landing bring a moment of panic before I quickly set about doing what feels like a thousand things in the few seconds I have; quietly shut the drawer, rapidly put my trousers back on, try to find my shoes and trawl through the numerous excuses for why I’m here. Fear, sweat and more fear...and then the door opens.
She walks in emitting a casual sigh and makes two steps before she notices me (for there was no reason to expect that I would be in her bedroom) at which point she almost chokes on her sigh, stiffens her posture and changes her expression from surprise to suspicion as she struggles to determine her first question.
“What are you...” she says failing to finish, as her eyes drop to see my un-buckled belt, shoeless feet and bulge in my jeans.
Speechless, I look at her with regret and my last ounce of fear.
During the moment that passes I’m distracted for a millisecond by the soft satin of her knickers wrapped around my ass. My mind jumps back and forth from this to the excuses I will try to feed her, and the inevitable truth that I have been caught, almost literally, with my hand in her panty drawer.
“Sorry” is all I can say. “Um, I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right now...please don’t tell anyone about this and I promise it will never happen again.”
Slightly confused she asks “what will never happen again?”
I pause for thought, wanting to escape this scene without further exposing what I’ve been doing here...desperately searching my mind for the right words...
”It’s embarrassing and it never should have happened, but I must leave now and...I’m sorry, so sorry.”
“Not so fast” she says calmly and takes a step back towards the door, pushing it shut and then gently leaning against it, blocking my only route out.
“Why are your...wait, where are your shoes?”
I look to the ground, searching for my shoes. I turn my back to her as I look on the other side of the bed and take the opportunity to buckle my belt, hoping she won’t notice.
“Here they are” I confidently state and subsequently sit on the bed to put them on.
I stand up, apologise again and ask if I can leave. She takes a deep breath and having noticed my not-so-covert buckling of my belt, asks “why were your trousers undone?”
Stubborn and frightened I stand there speechless. Her eyes move towards her chest of drawers and stop. I follow her gaze and find out what caught her eye. For what feels like an eternity we both fix ourselves on the pink material draped over the top left drawer, preventing it from shutting tight. She walks towards it slowly, and carefully slides open the drawer.
Inside are numerous pairs of her knickers, ruffled and disorganised.
“Was this you?” she asks as she turns to look at me.
“I’m sorry” I respond.
She smiles and holds up the pink knickers; hipster style with a little bow at the front, clinging nylon material and seem running up the middle of the back, the ones which slip between your cheeks, less revealing but more appealing than a thong.
“Are these what you came for?” she asks with her glossy lips and seductive eyes. “Don’t be shy, there’s nothing wrong with being curious”.
It began a year or so ago when I was 17 that I developed an interest in lingerie; the cut, the material and the way it hugs a woman’s body. In the absence of girlfriends with whom I could explore this interest I began to find opportunities to explore it on myself. Scouring women’s clothes catalogues for the underwear section, learning the different names for different styles and eventually attaining examples which I would wear myself.
This time I had gone too far. Whilst staying with my friend for the week, I took the opportunity to venture into his mother’s bedroom whilst she took him to tennis practice. I misjudged the time she would be away and what an error it was. Exposed I am, and worst of all, to such a close family friend.
Again I tell her I’m sorry, she sighs and tells me not to worry.
She walks away from the drawer, still with the pink panties in her hand and sits on the edge of her bed.
“Which ones do you like the best?” she asks, beckoning towards her drawer.
“This is very uncomfortable for me” I explain. And she quickly replies asking me rhetorically if I think it is comfortable for her.
“Come here” she says softly.
My head lolls back in an effort to refuse but my body shuffles towards her, knowing I hold no ground to be stubborn.
She undoes my belt and pulls down my trousers to reveal another pair of her knickers; the cream, satin, full-back panties which had previously cluttered my mind during the moment of intense fear. A moment which is passing...has passed...has turned into something else.
My erect cock bulges against the satin with pre-cum clearly visible. She laughs for less than a second, then smiles curiously and tells me to take off my shoes and trousers.
I try to appear reluctant but inside I’m overcome with erotic thought. She is attractive, there’s no doubt about that...and always has been. It’s not like I’d never noticed, not like I’d never fantasised about her before.
“Turn around” she softly instructs, and I do until I feel her hands on my thighs stopping me so she can inspect the way her panties hug my butt. Standing there I see my reflection in the full-length dressing mirror, the same view I had seen only 20 minutes before...when I was safe...and not quite so hard.
“So what do we do now?” she asks.
Shrugging my shoulders I turn to face her. As I relax my posture my left knee drops and my weight shifts onto my left side, my cock slides against the smooth material of her panties and releases itself popping its head out over the top of the material. Instantly we both notice and again what brings a smile to her face brings shame and fear to mine.
“Is this the first time you’ve done this?”
“No” I stammer.
“Is this the first time you’ve been caught?”
“Yes.”
She pauses, takes a deep breath and reaches forward to stroke the shaft of my cock through the satin. It twitches and pulses uncontrollably.
“We’ll have to do something about this I think, but before that you’ll have to do something for me” she confirms.
“Please don’t tell anyone about this” I beg.
“Don’t worry” she says, “this is our little secret”.