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From initially joking that a poltergeist was hiding my underwear, I’d discovered my boyfriend Rick hid a fetish for wearing women’s panties. I had spied on him getting pleasure from wearing my knickers before using them to bring himself to climax, which I’d found incredibly arousing. Rather than confront him, I wanted to encourage him, and to indulge my voyeuristic tendencies. So, I hatched a plan... Three days later, over my lunch hour, I composed a fake blackmail letter to Rick. Its contents implied the author was a neighbour who’d spied on his activities: I’ve been watching you. I know your dirty little secret. I’ve seen you parade about in female underthings, shameless and wanton. You stroked yourself to orgasm wearing your hot girlfriend’s black lace panties. Do you think she will look at you the same when she discovers the truth? If you want me to keep this information to myself, you need to do something for me. I challenge you to wear your girlfriend’s knickers all day, concealed under your overalls as you work. Feel them rub and tease as you reach and stretch. Pull them right down when you use the bathroom, tuck your junk back in, but don’t play. To prove you’ve accepted my challenge, be standing at your living room window tomorrow at 9:15 am. Show me what you’ve chosen to wear under your work clothes. Be there again at 4:50 pm to prove you’ve worn them all day. It’s too late to be shy, I’ve already seen your body naked. My heart was thumping as I typed the letter and printed it off on plain A4 paper. I felt a little mean, threatening him like that, but was equally excited to order the Kuantan escort service. I simply addressed it to The Mechanic in a plain white envelope. I drove home early to drop it through our letterbox at 4 pm, before nipping to the supermarket to do our weekly shop. When I returned later, my arms burdened with bags of groceries, everything seemed normal. Something delicious was simmering on the hob and the table was set for two. I greeted Rick with a kiss and he took some of the shopping from me. As we worked together to stow supplies in the cupboards and fridge, I asked him about his day. He talked about the gearbox problem his latest customer had, but I barely listened, studying his face instead. I thought I detected a little tension in the set of his mouth and in the crinkled lines at the corners of his eyes, but perhaps that was my hopeful imagination. As our evening progressed, Rick seemed a little distant; perhaps lost in thought, but we watched our favourite TV shows then got ready for bed. Despite feeling a niggle of guilt from causing him to worry, I couldn’t quell the excitement brewing inside me when I thought about watching him rise to the challenge I’d set. As we cuddled in bed I stroked the curves and planes of his back and chest. It soothed him and reminded me of the landscape of his strong, chiselled physique which I hoped would be offset by my dainty underwear tomorrow. Next morning, I got ready for work as usual. I ensured I was out of our bedroom and busy getting my packed lunch together well ahead of time, in case Rick needed access to my underwear drawer. “Got a busy day today?” I flung over my shoulder as I shrugged into my raincoat. “Not too bad, got a Mini to service.” Rick acted nonchalant, sipping his coffee, but I noticed him check the clock more than once. “Well, I’ll be back at the usual time.” I kissed him goodbye and left the house for work. I had parked my car close by as I intended to drive it around the block and return. As I started the engine, I imagined him getting ready, in a fluster of nerves. Just before 9:00, I crept into a parking space out of sight. I got out of the car to view the front of our house, satisfied that the curtains in the living room were open. Then I ducked back into the privacy of my car to check the footage from the hidden camera I’d planted in our bookcase. Currently, I had a view of the floor space in front of the large window, but no Rick. Maybe I was checking the clock obsessively, but the minutes seemed to drag as I sat there in my car, hoping that he had taken the bait. My heart sank when I wondered if I’d pushed him too far. Did he really believe that a neighbour was spying on him? At 9:10, Rick strode into view, wearing his overalls unbuttoned, his nervousness evident as he paced up and down. I hugged myself in anticipation and my stab of guilt was overridden by the climbing excitement. Already my pussy was swelling and I felt giddy with desire. As 9:15 rolled around, Rick shrugged his shoulders out of his navy coveralls. Their coarse fabric slumped around his ankles and I was struck by the beauty of my Adonis as he stood, legs slightly spread, wearing only a peachy concoction of lace and silk from my lingerie collection. The silky fabric was strained, taut across his firm buttocks and I longed to stroke and cup those familiar orbs of muscular flesh. He stood with hands on hips, just above where the knickers began, growing less shy about the challenge with every tick of the clock. He reached in front of himself and I guessed he was cupping or stroking his package through the lacy panel at the front. I hadn’t realised I was biting my lip until I tasted a metallic tang. At that moment Rick turned sideways, to ensure that his blackmailing voyeur could see he’d complied with the terms set. When he turned 180 degrees to show off his other side, I got a prime view of his manhood snared within the tight confines of the flowery lace. The moisture at my apex was really flowing now. His cock was nestled so invitingly, like a caged animal, that I longed to kneel in front of him, to dab it through the fabric with the tip of my tongue, knowing my nostrils would be assaulted by the warm, spicy smell I loved. I’d be reminded of all the times I’d sucked on his balls before, licking the underside of his penis from root to tip. I was shaken from my hot reverie when Rick bent over; the panties strained to maintain butt coverage as he did. He pulled his overalls up and over his muscled shoulders. He slid his arms into the sleeves, the press studs were fastened, then he shrugged a sweatshirt over the top. He left the room, presumably to add boots and get to work. The hidden camera continued to provide a view of the living room window, but there was nothing more to see. Feeling quite flustered, I placed my phone in my bag and drove to work. I felt highly aware of my slick pussy each time I pressed the pedals for a gear change. All the working day, my concentration was off. The view I’d got this morning kept replaying in my head. I imagined Rick in my peachy undies, the delicate lace cupping and compressing the tight furl of his cock and balls, his strong torso bent over a car with my panties pulling and teasing between his butt cheeks… Would my panties hold him secure? Or was he at the constant mercy of that uneasy feeling that his crown jewels might flop out of the leg hole? This sexy ‘home movie’ had my pulse racing and my nipples tingled. My gusset was sticky thinking of Rick carrying out a day’s work wearing my delicate knickers. As the clock in the corner of my computer screen neared 4:50 pm, the antsy feeling I’d been wrestling all day really took over. It was probably nothing to what Rick was experiencing, but I grabbed my phone and went to a stall in the ladies’ room to watch the concealed camera’s feed. I couldn’t help admiring how dependable my man was. At the allotted time, Rick moved into view, undoing the snaps on his overalls. He shrugged them off and stood, exuding confidence, my peach knickers enhancing the curve of his buttocks as before. He turned left and right, proudly showing his blackmailer that he’d completed the assigned task and worn my underwear all day. His cock was semi-erect as he stood in front of the window—I could see its burnished tip escaping the waistband of my dainty panties. There was no doubt he’d risen to the challenge. My eyes lost focus on the screen a little as I pressed two fingertips against my clit, pressing and swirling it a few times, feeling a delightful sensation radiate out from the little nub of flesh. I let my head fall back and tried not to gasp aloud as I rubbed until I felt my juices gathering, coating my lips with lubrication. I dipped one finger inside myself but then held still. A tiny tremor of a pulse was making my pussy palpate, but I decided to stop, to take my desire home to Rick. Sucking juices off my finger, I re-arranged my clothes, returned to my desk, and packed up to go home. I called out for Rick as I unlocked the front door. I shrugged out of my raincoat and slung my keys in the bowl before racing upstairs, hoping to join him in the shower. Once in my room, I shimmied out of my clothes and hustled into the bathroom. My nipples were tight peaks of desire, which even the warm fog of the bathroom couldn’t reverse. Through the steam, I could make out Rick’s rugby honed body, his dark hair plastered against his head by the running water. My lust was spiking, so I opened the shower cubicle to join him. When our eyes met, he read the intention etched on my face. As we crashed together and locked lips, he immediately insinuated his thigh between mine. I rubbed against him greedily and dragged him in closer by his buttocks, handling them like clay. The heavy meat of his shaft was curved towards his belly, swollen and hard. I concluded that he too had delayed his pleasure until now. Rick dipped his head to my breasts, nipping and tugging at my nipples alternately. “When are you gonna get these pierced?” he asked. “They’d look so perfect with bars.” It was a fantasy of mine too, but my courage had failed me so far. “If you’d like that, I’ll make an appointment.” The way he worshipped my body with his mouth and his hands made me feel like a beautiful goddess. Looking down at his physique I saw his desire clearly evidenced by his straining cock. “What’s got you so horny?” he asked, pressing two fingers into my slippery wetness. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” I smiled and, nibbling along his jawline, sank my teeth into his shoulder. “How about some monkey sex?” He shot me a sexy grin and hoisted me up by my buttocks. Linking hands around his neck I wrapped my legs around his waist and allowed him to nudge his cock at the entrance to my pussy. “How much do you want this?” His gaze bore into me while he teased the tip of his prick at my aching clit. He was tormenting me as he often did, letting it bump and rub against my little bean, heightening my hunger. “I want all of it!” I tried unsuccessfully to grind my hips against him. “I want it hard and I want it fast.” His grin was devilish and he licked his lips. “Give it to me, big boy!” I cried, and he thrust deep into me. The satisfaction of how he filled me was so intense, I could almost feel it in my throat. I hung on for dear life, clinging like a monkey to a tree as Rick pumped his hips. Clenching my pelvic floor, I used my inner thighs to help me bounce until stars exploded behind my closed eyes. My cunt clutched and throbbed around him; I felt joined with my man in the best possible way. Soon his thrusting hips brought him release, which I felt as I was coming down from my own climax. We kissed, our tongues tangling as the water created rivulets on our faces. Seldom had I felt closer to Rick than I did that day. Our coupling was more intense than I’d experienced since our early days. I knew the extent of what he’d sacrificed for me. I wondered if I should share my secret, or would it detract from the pleasure his fetish brought him? We seemed united by our sexy secrets, which were co-dependent. My logical mind told me that we were both gaining so much out of Rick’s secret panty fetish, that I would cap it if I confessed everything so soon. I decided I’d set him one more challenge and then I’d come clean. Next day at work, I crafted another ‘anonymous’ note to drop through our letterbox. I folded the sheet of A4 into a white envelope and, as before, addressed it to ‘The Mechanic’. This time I left it on the doormat before I went to bed, so Rick would find it when he came down the next morning. I let him assume our ‘peeping Tom’ neighbour had posted it through the letterbox. Well done, panty-lover. You’ve bought yourself some more time. Did you love wearing your girlfriend’s scanties all day? Did you feel more masculine or less when you had to pull them down and sit to pee? What I want to see is you taking the next step, so dress in stockings, suspenders and panties. Do you dare purchase these for yourself? You’d better, otherwise I’ll send your girlfriend the pictures which I took of you modelling the pastel knickers you selected this week. Next Friday, same drill as before. No room for failure.

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