worn panties

finally, we were getting heavy, ground soaking rain, after months of dry, hot weather. the dark grey skies had opened up their low rolling clouds as i was completing a small list of errands, which had me driving all over town, picking up and dropping off various items. before i went to the grocery store, i stopped to make a clothes donation, into the bin at the side of a large box store.

i was wearing low slung jean shorts. frayed along the cut off bottom, white strings of bleached denim tickled the top of my tanned and firm thighs. my pale purple capped sleeved t-shirt, had a wide and low scooped neck , showing a generous amount of cleavage with the full round tops exposed. The shirt was carelessly rucked up around one side as they were just a little too large at the waist. needless to say, as i exited the car, i was soaked almost to the skin, with rivulets of water cascading off my  bared skin and instantly soaking through the cotton of my top.

i was focused on the rain, distracted by the warmth of it against my skin, thinking how warm it was and how much the humidity was increasing, rather than improving. i opened up the side door and pulled out a small bag of clothes i had sorted through the prior day for donation. odds and ends from my lingerie drawer. nighties, teddies and slips i no longer wore. camisole sets i had grown tired of.

as i stepped up onto the curb and started to hoist the bag into the bin, two things happened almost simultaneously. first, an item fell out of the open top of the bag as i was lifting it, by the time it reached my shoulder height. the second was a man, who had just come into my peripheral vision, bent over to pick it up for me, as i turned to see what had fallen, lowering the wet bag to my side.

as he stood straight, looking at what was in his hand, i also looked at what he was holding and staring at with such intensity. it was a pair of sheer, vintage type panties, full bottomed, with delicate lacing around the legs and detailed stitching on the band, featuring a large and prominent gusset area, as was typical of foundation wear from the 1950’s styling.

we seemed to raise our eyes almost at the same time i saw him swallow hard and say “I’ll give you $50 for these”. the look on his face was cascading; arousal. sparks of a desperate kind of craving. fear of speaking impulsively and without thinking. deep dark need. As he spoke, he didn’t even wait for my instant reply; his wallet was out and his money was in hand, even while I was saying “Okay” and our hands reached towards each other, His to give and mine to take.

the moment the money was exchanged, his eyes got wide. surprise, delight, fear,pride of possession. All passing in succession as he quickly turned and went around the corner of the building. i stood there in the pouring rain, looking down at the wet money, slowly going limp, watching the rain pour off it’s sodden edge, and i smiled once the confusion started to pass. and then i chuckled.

and then i tipped my head back and faced the stormy day and laughed and giggled and gave myself over to the moment which took me several minutes to understand. i had just unexpectedly sold a pair of my lovely worn, but clean panties, to a stranger, in broad daylight, beside a busy mall during a severe thunderstorm and had $50 to show for it.

needless to say, as i entered my car, i tossed to soaked bag of lingerie back onto the seat beside me, thinking that there may be potential for alternative ways to dispose of them, other than donation into a charity bin. certainly more profitable ones, anyway.

This entry was posted in erotica, fetish and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to worn panties

  1. Marty says:

    “… tanned and firm thighs …” Yum

  2. Liras says:

    *long and low chuckle, deep in the back of my throat* 🙂

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