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Chapter 3: Fantasies

It was all I could think about, alternately torturing and thrilling me.

You're a guy, Eddie, I reminded myself whenever my thoughts strayed to what had happened. You were curious. You tried something new. That's normal! But guys don't wear panties.

I had wrapped the vibrator in the cum-stained panties and shoved them in the back of my underwear drawer, hoping to push them from my mind. But all that happened was that every time I picked out my socks, I thought about laying on Susan's bed with a vibrator between my legs.

You came just like —

But I could never let myself finish that thought. No matter how hard I got thinking about it.

I stashed the magazines under the bed. I just couldn't bring myself to throw them away.

Because I need to return them, I told myself. Just have to work up the nerve to admit I took them.

I had studiously avoided Susan since she had moved in, even going so far as to call in sick to work just so I didn't have to go outside while she was mowing the lawn. I spent the day watching TV and trying not to remember what we had done. But every time I closed my eyes I thought about the cover of Girly Thrills and the centerfold of Feminine Delights .

I could be just like the boys in those magazines, I thought. All it would take was knocking on her door.

I promised myself I wouldn't. I couldn't! Not that it made me any less curious.

I wonder what stockings feel like, I wondered as I made myself a sandwich. Then I caught myself: On a girl I'm having sex with. Not on me.

But the harder I tried to avoid it all, the more I thought about it. I could feel the magnetic pull of the magazines through the walls of my house. I pictured the little bundle of satin in my drawer whenever my mind wandered. I thought about what Susan had told me.

"Anyone can wear panties."

"Anyone."

One night I just couldn't sleep. After spending what felt like hours tossing and turning I finally chucked my pillow across the room and turned on the light, sitting up in bed and fuming. There was only one thing to do about it — the natural sleep remedy.

I pulled down my pajama pants, my manhood already ready. I closed my eyes and started to stroke. I imagined a pretty blonde thing in a tiny skirt bending over for me, revealing her lacy panties. She was giggly and flirty, but when she stood back up and turned to look at me, she had changed — now she looked like Susan Lovell.

"Don't you wish you could be wearing these instead?" imaginary Susan purred as she pulled her panties down, then kicked them towards me. "Aren't they just the cutest?"

My eyes snapped open and I froze, the fantasy disappearing.

Let's try again.

This time I had just hired a maid, and she was eager to please. The service had sent her over in a tiny, low-cut uniform with frilly trim. She kept finding opportunities to bend over around me, showing off her black panties and lace stocking tops. Finally, I couldn't put up with her teasing anymore, grabbing her roughly by the hips and pulling her against my swelling cock.

"Oh, Eddie!" she gasped.

"Hush," I whispered into her ear. "You're mine now."

"Eddie! You need to put your uniform on first!" she giggled, pushing me playfully away. "It's in the bedroom."

"Sure," I said, grinning knowingly. "Right. My uniform. In the bedroom. Maybe you should show it to me?"

She giggled again and walked towards the door, curling her finger for me to follow. She strutted her way down the hall, glancing flirtatiously over her shoulder.

"There it is," she said, pointing through the doorway. "Do you need help putting it on?"

Laying on the bed was an outfit exactly like hers — a black maid's dress with white trim. Draped across the covers of the bed were sheer black stockings, tall stilettos on the floor.

This time I didn't stop stroking myself. I imagined her helping me undress. She slid the panties slowly up my legs and zipped up the dress from behind. She held my hand while I slid my stocking-covered feet into the shoes and giggled as I teetered around the room in them.

"Very good, you two," came a low voice from behind us.

I turned in surprise and saw Susan there, leaning against the doorframe.

"Just a darling uniform, isn't it?" she purred.

"Ah, I suppose," I stammered. "Not really my style."

"You know," she said with a pleased smile. " Anyone can wear something pretty like that."

I pumped myself faster now.

"It makes me feel really nice," I admitted to fantasy-Susan.

Her smile spread across her face and she walked to me, taking my hands in hers.

"It suits you, Eddie," she said quietly, squeezing my hands encouragingly. "Don't you like these pretty things? Don't they make you feel so sweet and lovely?"

The maid was behind me now, our dresses pressing together, her hands around me. Our petticoats crunched softly. I felt one of her stocking-covered legs slip around mine.

"Yes, Mrs. Lovell," I whispered. "They do."

My orgasm was abrupt and hard, my cum exploding out of me like it never had before. I fell backwards against the headboard, heart pounding. The fantasy had been so real — I could still feel the weight of the dress, my hands in Susan's.

Is that something I could really do?

There was only one way to find out.