Panty Sniffing Southerner

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For myths (hope you enjoy)

When I visited England in all its quaint little villages I spent a few days in Guildford. My favourite pub became The White Hart, a beautiful 16th century British pub, just off from the village green. A lovely fire greeted me every night as soon as I walked into the oak beamed bar area. My current lover, Solomon, and I enjoyed many evenings of fantastic food and plentiful bottles of wine in the large heated patio at the front of the pub.

We did all the sites, Thorpe Park Resort, Leith Hill, even Birdworld, but my main reason for travelling all the way to Surrey was to enjoy the delicious humiliation of a panty obsessed English ‘southerner’ as I was told they are called.

Surrey was certainly the quaint little place many American’s imagine England to be and very, very wealthy. Not surprising then that lurking within all that wealth and preserved history is the occasional kinky person with a severe panty sniffing fetish.

Not a girl to disappoint, I had worn the same black thong each evening of our trip, sitting in that heated patio, my pussy damp against the gusset. Samson wasn’t the possessive type and found the whole idea of Eric’s fetish hilarious. When it was quiet in the patio area, Samson would slide his hand up my leather mini-skirt and massage my pussy through my gusset. His strong fingers would have my pussy dripping into my thong and he would push the gusset between my swollen labia into my sopping pussy.

“Just another present for Eric!” Solomon would say, grinning at me and shaking his head in disbelief at Eric’s fetish. A few times I climaxed on Solomon’s fingers as he rammed the black silk of my gusset deep inside me, right there in the heated patio. The scent of my womanhood would fill the room and my juices soaked into the gusset of my thong, wedged inside me as I enjoyed a post orgasmic cuddle with Solomon.

As long as Solomon got to watch he was a happy bunny. He’s fine with my craving for male attention and the occasional ‘experience’. For me, having a man aroused by my most intimate scent to the point of needing my caste off underwear felt so powerful that it was a serious aphrodisiac in my love making with Samson. As a special ‘surprise’ for Eric I would slip my thong back on after fucking Samson, feeling our mixed juices drip out of my pussy and slime between my matted hair and the gusset of my thong.

I had chosen a Wednesday for my panty slave, simply because the pub was quietest then. This had allowed Samson the opportunity to masturbate me to orgasm in my now, very dirty and stained thong, that very evening. Consequently when Eric did come trotting into the White Heart, he was greeted to the site of my fabulous body as his nostrils took in the scent of my arousal that permeated the heated air.

Eric grinned like all his Christmas’s adana escort had come at once. I had dressed in one of my favourite outfits; a black leather waistcoat with matching black mini-skirt, fishnets and knee high stiletto boots. My bare upper arms were adorned with armlets and my collection of silver bracelets jangled over my black lace gloves whenever I sipped my wine. I just adore the sensuality of jewellery and had at least two silver chains around my waist as well as ankle chains around my boots and several heavy silver necklaces. I felt like a Goddess and looked like one too.

So we sat and chatted over a few bottles of wine, Eric nattering away in his quaint English accent and Samson smirking the whole time because he couldn’t quite believe my dirty panties could make someone actually turn up to sniff them.

I just wallowed in the attention of two men who clearly found me gorgeous. Why wouldn’t they? I was dressed damn sexy and was my usual brassy, sassy, smart assy self.

After a while, I gave Eric a filthy stare, he grinned, and I reached under my mini for Eric’s cock leash. I had stored the thin leather strip up my pussy all day, letting my juices soak into the leather so that it would be deliciously subtle and scented for this evening. Pulling my gusset to one side, I found an end of the leather strip and gently tugged it until the three foot strip slipped past my wet labia and out of my pussy.

With the wet cord between my finger and thumb nails, I held it high above my head, my naked arm stretched high, breasts jutting forward, and then dropped it into the middle of the table.

Eric was mesmerised. The scent of my pussy was saturated into the cord and all three of us could smell it.

“It needs cleaning, Eric. I hear you’re the guy for the job!” I said, swirling my finger in-between the coils of sopping wet leather.

Eric went to pick up the strand of leather and I slapped his hand away.

“Patience, darling! We all know what you want, but what about what I want?”

Eric was bursting with desire. This was all his fantasies come true. I kind of have that affect on men, play on their weaknesses, fondle their little piggy minds.

“It is an honour to be able to taste and smell me, Eric. I want you to take the leather strip there, fulfil your senses with it, take in my smell, take it into your mouth and chew it until you have filled your mouth with my juices…and then, poppet, it’s my turn. I want you to tie it round your cock and balls, tight and hand me the power over your precious genitals! Deal?”

Samson muttered “Oh, geez! She’s off again!” And I gave him a saucy peck on the cheek in acknowledgement.

“If you do this, Eric, submit yourself to my control, I’ll pop to the little girl’s room and return with the afyon escort special treat you’re so desperate to have!”

Eric picked up the coiled leather and brought it up to his nose, inhaling deeply. I felt the corner of my mouth turn up slightly in the pleasure of witnessing his subjugation. My pussy was tingling watching this man wallowing in the scent of my pussy as though it was his manna.

“Taste it!” I said, my tongue rolling around my mouth in anticipation of his own tongue’s action. He did it, Eric pushed the leather strand into his mouth, his cheeks slightly puffed out as he chewed. I smiled sweetly at him, my English hamster faced, fetish driven Eric.

It was gorgeous sitting there, Eric admiring my body as he tasted my pussy juices, just lording it over him, watching him struggle to swallow, making him a victim of his own fetish. But, I had promised Eric my thong. I sent Eric to the little boys room to attach his leash and I visited the little girls room to slide off my very, very, worn and scented thong.

By the time I returned, Eric was sitting back down and I held out one gloved hand for his leash. Eric handed it over, with a delicious look of trepidation. I gave it a little tug to make sure it was attached to the right equipment. The sudden jerk of Eric’s body and a definitely genuine wince convinced me right enough.

With a triumphant smirk, I knelt down and tied the leash around my ankle. I crossed my leg, Eric twitched. The power was driving me wild.

I dropped my reeking thong onto the table. The smell was extremely pungent, five evenings and five nights of my pussy juices dripping into the gusset, five evenings of having that crusty gusset re-soaked inside my wet pussy and five nights of Samson’s cum congealing against my pussy as I slept in the thong.

The gusset was stained in layers of matted slime with my fresh pussy juices glistening on top. Eric’s eyes were nearly popping out of his head as he stared at my stained thong.

“Go ahead, Eric…amuse me with your dirty, little fetish!” I said, taking a sip of my wine.

Eric picked up my still warm thong delicately and brought it up to his nostrils. I swang my leg, making Eric cry out.

“There’s a price, darling, for this pleasure. Continue all you want, but I want to watch you suffer. Fair deal?”

Eric nodded, commenced sniffing my stained thong and I yanked on his leash every few minutes. My dirty thong, still warm from my aroused pussy rubs against his face.

“Clean them, Eric! With your tongue!” There was no way he could have missed the cum stains and manly musk of Samson’s spunk, but Eric obeyed, licking my filthy gusset. I sat watching him, placing Samson’s hand up my skirt, so my pussy got all the attention I needed as I enjoyed Eric’s little performance.

“I’m alanya escort not sure that your tongue’s gonna manage this, Eric. Try sucking them clean!”

He did. The occasional little splurt and smack of his lips as he sucked Samson and my juices out of the delicate silk gusset were hilarious.

“Harder!” I said, yanking his leash and he began sucking with fervour.

Watching Eric indulge in his panty sniffing fetish, his cock and balls at my mercy, Samson playing with my wet pussy all had me desperate to fuck.

“Thong. Now, Eric!” I said, holding out my hand. Looking crestfallen, Eric handed back my thong. I inspected it; the silk was literally sodden in saliva, but I could not see a stain anywhere and the scent had greatly reduced.

“Outside, Eric, good boy!” I said, shoving my thong into Samson’s pocket and walking off. Eric leapt to his feet as the leash suddenly grew taught and he limped after me, desperately trying to protect his delicate genitals.

I strode over to Samson’s Harley and rummaged around until I found my treat for Eric.

I untied the leash from my ankle and yanked Eric to a kneeling position, right before my pussy. I hitched up my leather mini and gave Eric a close-up view of my pussy, my labia swollen from Samson’s touch and glistening with juices in the moonlight.

“Smell me!” I said and Eric leaned forward, inhaling deeply.

“Now stroke yourself to my scent!”

Eric obeyed, fumbling with his jeans to release his cock. I held his nose pressed against my sweaty pussy hair as he stroked. When I thought he was near to cumming I yanked on his leash again. My sadistic streak was welling up, my need to subjugate and terrorise.

“Test time, Eric. If you pass you get to cum and you get a very special present. If you fail, I’m gonna kick those balls until you can’t stand up.”

I stood, looking down on his terrified face, smiling innocently, as I opened a plastic bag and pushed a pair of dirty panties into his face.

“Are these mine. Answer carefully Eric: Pain or pleasure, darling!”

Eric sniffed, sniffed again, tasted the gusset.

“They’re…not yours…” He decided and looked doefully up at me standing before him.

“Well done, poppet!” I said. “They’re my neighbours, Sue-Anna. I had her hubby get them for you. Inside your little goodie bag you’ll find a couple of photographs of Sue-Anna. Sorry, darling, but no-one gets to keep my panties. Enjoy Sue-Anna’s though!”

The thought of someone owning Sue-Anna’s panties without her knowledge, sniffing her most private scent, knowing what she looked like and all because of me was a real buzz.

“Go on then, cum!” I told Eric and he stroked himself to orgasm at my feet.

We left him then, kneeling in a car park, spent and leashed cock in hand, as we rode off to our hotel room to satiate our lust. I fucked Samson reliving Eric kneeling as we had left him, the smell of my pussy still on his face, the imprint of my sweaty hairs pressed into his face, his nose coated in my juices and Sue-Anna’s panties in his hand.

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