I was in Marks and Spencers the other day, shopping, as you do and in the piles of reduced sale items I stumbled on something that brought memories flooding back to me from long, long ago.
A pair of girl’s Hello Kitty floral panties in pink surfaced to the top of the pile of underwear I’d been sifting through and did they ever bring back some very wicked memories of my sinful youth? Not half!
When I was much, much younger, my family lived in a teeny terraced house. There were six of us squeezed in there and I had to share a bedroom with one of my older sisters and that bedroom I hated almost as much as I loathed her.
Hannah, the loathsome sister with whom I unfortunately had to share that bedroom with, at that time was prettier than me and because she had a new hot boyfriend, a really good looking lad called Nathan, I was as jealous as hell of her.
From the outset I developed this unhealthy crush on him and I’d get in awful trouble with Hannah because I’d flirt with him outrageously right there in front of her, but I remained oblivious to his continuous snubs – what possible interest could a twenty year old handsome lad who could have any girl he wanted, possibly have in me, an immature spotty young girl, scarcely fourteen years of age with breasts that weren’t breasts yet? Especially as he was knocking off Hannah anyway?
Knocking off? Yeah , well one day I overheard them whispering between themselves. Fucking hell I thought, Hannah and Nathan, having sex, the thought blew me away, but where they were doing it I had no idea. It wasn’t at our tiny home and they couldn’t have been doing it at his parent’s place, they’d have killed him if they found out.
But one night when my parent were out, when my sister must have thought I was sound asleep, she smuggled him into our little bedroom. I heard her giggling and then him rip open what must have been a condom pack. I couldn’t do anything but lay there in total silence pretending to sleep listening to them having sex. I held my breath for ages, had to bite my hand hard to quieten myself.
I’m forty nine now and to this day that night remains fixed firmly in mind as the most erotic experience I’ve ever had in my life, the two of them doing it, Nathan doing his best to muffle my sister’s moaning as he brought her off not once but twice and his moans that she tried to stifle as she brought him off twice. I can tell you, afterwards I was in a total ruddy mess.
But fortunately or unfortunately however you want to look at it, as afr as our tiny bedroom goes, that was the one and only time they did it there, to my knowledge anyway. Then one evening, a few weeks later, my sister asked me to bring her something from her bag and while I was rummaging about in there I found a strip of contraceptive pills.
So Nathan wasn’t using condoms anymore – perhaps he didn’t like them, perhaps she didn’t, I don’t know, but what I did know was that from the amount of time they spent in each others company, without a shadow of a doubt, that new method of birth control she was on would have been pushed to the limit as they’d no doubt fuck one another senseless at every possible opportunity.
Now call this kinky or what, but from that day on, when no one was about in our house, I’d upturn the laundry basket looking for panties, the one’s she’d been wearing while she’d been with Nathan having sex and I’d put them on, still warm and wear them myself.
The thought of him, down there on me, I can’t begin to describe it, but this was the closest I was going to get to having sex with him. I’d press the crutch into me, smear him into my sex, sending shivers up and down my spine as I did so and all these years later, I can still feel the wicked sensations it gave me back then.
One day there was an inquisition, from my sister, wanting to know where the hell one of her pairs of panties had gone, apparently a particularly expensive pair, having the audacity of accusing me of stealing them.
“Nope, not seen them,” I lied smiling at my sister smuggly, wearing those self same panties she was missing, the remnants of her boyfriend’s semen pressed up to where I most wanted it to be pressed.
Then one day, on my manic routine rummage through the dirty laundry, I hit my pot of gold. A pair of her panties that were incredibly sticky and wet. Dampish one’s, there had been many of, those but these were well alive, wriggling in Nathan’s sticky stuff. As far as quantities and wetness goes, on a score of one to ten, these ranked an easy eleven. I sniffed them and smiled. Yes, this was all him, I decided with just a mere whiff of her.
It was so fresh. They could only have done it within the last half hour or so and I suspected she’d not even bothered to take them off, in the heat of the moment he’d probably just tugged them to one side, slipped it in and done her – I don’t know, but after she’d obviously had nothing handy to dry herself with, she must have rushed home and changed, put this stained pair in the wash then gone straight back out again, probably enticing Nathan into giving her another quick fuck later, the lucky bitch.
I even remember the brand, Hello Kitty and putting them on and then pulling them tighter than tight into me, I can tell you it was like having sex with Nathan. Those Hello Kitty panties, secretly I wore them for days and days, never washing them, until I could wear them no more.
I hid them from my mum and my sister, cherishing them for years, long after I’d had sex with my first boyfriend two years later , only to reluctantly throw them away just after I’d got married. But now, I so wish I’d kept them.
Nathan never married my sister. Where he is now sadly I have no idea, but to this day I still drool over that handsome lad and as for that time he never knew of, when I put those panties on and in my wild youthful imagination he had sex with me, well, that will be in my thoughts forever.