Federico Lawton

For the uninitiated, it may come as a surprise to learn that cyclists typically do not wear underwear beneath their bike shorts. In fact, in order to get the full cushioning benefit of the chamois that is sewn into the shorts, wearing anything else is discouraged. You can imagine, therefore, that the panties that I had on under my shorts were somewhat distracting. Not in a bad way, in fact, maybe in a slightly naughty way, a constant reminder of the completely unexpected turn of events of the day!

I let myself into my nephew's home and searched the refrigerator, making a plan for dinner as well as a shopping list which would get me through the next few days of my visit. It was obvious that my tastes were somewhat less sophisticated than his, and I certainly did not want to take advantage of his generous offer to stay on after his departure.

As the sun began to set, the temperature dropped to a point where it was noticeably cooler in the house. Rather than turn the heat up, I opted to spend the evening in the den where I was able to light a fire in the wood stove. Within half an hour, the stove was hot, and the room was toasty, almost too hot. It was a good time to take a shower, given the fact that I would be able to return to this very warm spot afterward. I put another log in the stove and then shut the door before making my way to the bathroom.

There were fresh towels and all of the toiletries that one could imagine in the guest bathroom. After adjusting the temperature of the water and turning on the spray, I stepped back and peeled my clothes off, pausing briefly in only the panties. I stepped in front of the mirror to catch a glimpse of them, noting how my cock was nestled in the soft, feminine lace. And then I watched as I slowly slid the waist band over my hips. That was all it took for my cock to be stimulated. It began to grow and was soon standing straight and hard, tipped up slightly at an angle, ready for whatever pleasure might come its way.

The shower was a luxury, an endless supply of hot water caressing my body. The fragrance of soap that I had never heard of, and probably would never be able to purchase for myself, and the soft sensation of a new washcloth against my skin all added up to a feeling of almost total contentment. The shower addressed the needs of my sore muscles, and it washed away the sweat and dust from the ride home. It helped to center my thoughts regarding the sexual exploration in which I had engaged earlier in the day, leaving me with a feeling of acceptance and anticipation for what might occur the next day. But, it did little to address the needs of my still hard cock. I washed it with soapy hands, gently stroking it, fondling my balls with my slippery hands and even touching my rosebud with a soapy finger, recalling the pleasure of feeling my friend's finger penetrating me there. But then I stopped, turned off the water and picked up a towel to dry my body, speaking out loud and telling my cock to be patient.

My intention was to fully comply with my friend's request to wear the panties until I saw him later the next day. They were not as fresh as my just showered body, but I stooped over and picked them up from the floor, pausing to bring them to my face, briefly wanting them to be his, to be reminded of his fragrance, but, of course, I smelled my own scent, discovering that it was delightful in its own way. I slid the panties on and picked up my dirty clothes as well as a fresh towel.

I dropped the dirty clothes off in my room and grabbed some flannel pants and a t shirt, but they were for later. As long as I had the house to myself, and a cozy fire in the den, I had decided that it would be appropriate to wear just my panties, at least until the fire died down. Entering the den, I spread the fresh towel on the chair in front of the wood stove, and sat down. As I did so, I noticed that my cock had lost some , thought not nearly all, of its rigidity. Past experience told me that it would only take only a slight touch and perhaps a few thoughts of the days activities to help return it to a state of being ready for action.

I dropped my hand to caress it through my panties, cupping my balls and then running my palm lightly up the bottom of my shaft. Unlike so many movies in which guys seem to rely on vigorous and prolonged stroking, I learned early on that pressure against the bottom of my cock, down close to my balls, often led to much more explosive orgasms. Even with my wife, the act of just gently humping her thigh, often times point me beyond the point of no return, and, to her slight dismay, I would end up pumping my cum on her belly.

This was the image that I entertained in my head, laying on top of my new friend, my nipples grazing his chest, my lips nuzzled against his neck, his thigh between my legs with my cock pressed against it, my balls dragging against his skin. The panties no longer contained my cock. The head had slipped under the waistband and was sticking out straight and hard. My hand was his thigh, pressed tight against the underside of my cock with my fingers touching my balls. The warmth of the wood stove enveloped me. There was nothing to distract from the feeling of total bliss. Although there was no one there to hear, I could not contain the low moan that grew in intensity along with the orgasm. I could feel my cock pumping against my palm and then I could feel the warm cum splash on my belly.

I was not sure if the time that passed could be measured in seconds or in minutes, but gradually I came back to reality as if awaking from a deep sleep. The first thing I noticed was the feeling of pleasure from head to toe. What a gift, to be able to experience something like this by one's self, sitting in a comfortable chair in front of a warm stove. The only thing better would be to share it with a friend. In fact, throughout the years, I have come to realize how extending pleasure to another human being enhances my own to the nth degree. As the warm tingly feelings subsided, my only regret was that my friend was not there to experience it with me.

I looked down and saw the little pools of cum on my stomach and reached for a tissue, but then a naughty thought entered my head. Instead, I slid the panties off and placed them in my hand so that the crotch was in my palm and then wiped my cum with them. Rather than waiting for it to dry, I immediately slipped them back on. My balls reacted to the feel of the damp material by retracting slightly, but then relaxed as my body heat warmed up the panties. There was no question that when I agreed to follow my new friend home, I had embarked down a path of erotic experiences, many of which had not previously entered my mind!

As the fire died down, I reached for my flannel pants and t shirt and then made my way to the kitchen for a late dinner of a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. After the dinner cleanup and checking to see that the doors were locked, I turned out the lights on my way to my bedroom. There were a few DownEast and Yankee magazines on the night stand. I crawled under the comforter and paged through some of the magazines but found my mind drifting back to the events of the day. I wondered if my friend was having the same thoughts, replaying in his mind what we did, perhaps anticipating what may happen the following day. My eyes grew tired, and I reached for the light. Before turning over on my side, however, I slid the flannel pants off and pulled my t shirt over my head, electing to sleep under the warmth of the comforter in just my panties. And then I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my lips.

The next morning, I awoke to the sun shining in the window. I was immediately aware of the need to go to the bathroom, but as I pulled the comforter down, I was also reminded that I was wearing sexy panties, ones that were taking on my scent and which had the faint stains of dry cum on them. It was a sweet thought.

Finishing in the bathroom, I grabbed my flannel pants and a sweatshirt and made my way back to the den. The towel was still on the chair. I started a fire and reached for the towel, thinking that I might put it in the laundry, but then decided to leave it where it was. not knowing just how the day would play out.

Eggs and toast were on the menu for breakfast. I was starting to get to know the kitchen and beginning to feel comfortable in the space. With a plate heaping with scrambled eggs and whole wheat toast, I returned to the den to find that the stove had warmed the room to a comfortable temperature. I added a log before sitting down to enjoy breakfast, thinking that it just might be nice to be able to shed the pants and sweat shirt. The fire roared and soon I was down to just my panties again, glad that I had kept the towel in place. I put my empty plate on the coffee table and began to think about the shower experience of the previous day, my reaction when my friend first traced the crack of my ass with a slippery finger, wondering how far he would go, hoping that he would explore my rosebud, tightening up when he first grazed by it, but then relaxing when he returned, feeling the pressure of his finger against my orifice, not speaking but wanting him to continue, pushing against him, signalling that I wanted him to continue, and then feeling my muscle give way, parting and allowing him to enter, feeling full, feeling eroticism, experiencing something that I had only read about. I was in a daze, but when I looked down, I noticed that my cock had responded to my thoughts, once again sticking out from under the panties, ready to be touched. Again I spoke to it, requesting that it be just a bit patient.

I wanted to experience that feeling again. I wanted something in my ass. Rising from my seat, I made my way to the bathroom. At a loss, i picked up a bottle of shampoo and then noticed a brush with a long slender , rounded handle. I grabbed it and returned to the den. I slid the coffee table in front of the chair and then scooted down in my seat, my feet on the coffee table and then I squirted some shampoo on the handle of the brush before reaching down sliding my panties to the side and placing it with the tip of the handle against my rosebud. It tickled. It felt great. I concentrated on relaxing before putting gentle pressure on it. At first my muscle resisted, but then suddenly, it opened and the tip of the brush slid inside. It was all about taking my time, gently getting used to the idea of something hard inside my ass, probing, pushing it deeper in very slight increments. As I became more relaxed with the idea mentally as well as physically, I could feel the beginning of pleasure. It was two fold. Certainly there was the physical pleasure of something stimulating the nerve endings inside - no denying that. But it was also mental - the pleasure of knowing that I was doing something slightly naughty, something new after so many years of enjoying straight sex.

I continued to push the brush handle inside until there was no more to be had. The brush itself, rubbing against my rosebud. And then I began to pump it in and out. I paused to add a little more shampoo, and then began to move it in rhythm. I placed my other hand against my cock, this time stroking it. It did not take long for this activity to produce an explosive orgasm, my body bucking against the brush while my hand rubbed my cock. Once again I felt the warmth of my cum squirting on my body, and once again, I slipped into a daze of warmth and total pleasure.

As I began to emerge from the haze, I slowly slid the brush handle out. There was a feeling of emptiness that I had not anticipated. Immediately, I wondered what the real thing would feel like. I wondered if my friend would oblige me and give me the opportunity to find out. I then slid my panties off and used them to clean the cum from my belly, adding more stains to the collection. I then grabbed the towel, the brush and the shampoo and headed to the bathroom. I took pains to wash the brush thoroughly, and put the towel in the hamper before washing myself off with a warm wash cloth.

It was mid morning, and I had a few things to get done before heading back to my friend's l home later in the afternoon. I picked up the panties from the floor in the den and slid them on, followed by a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I determined that it would be a good time to drive to the grocery store and do some shopping and then to return for a light lunch before heading back out on the bike. With a beautiful day in store, I figured that a ride of 40 miles or so would get me back in time to shower and get ready to make ride to my friends house for dinner with time to spare. The only challenge would be for me to keep erotic thoughts and ideas at bay and to keep focused on riding safely!