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Walter shares his fetish for women’s panties with Tiffany after having sex with her.
Never wanting to let her go, Walter remained in bed with the love of his life, 30-something-year-old Tiffany. With him suddenly a player, the big man on campus, and the Don Juan lover of a man, albeit a man in a dress and wig while wearing makeup, he had a big ass smile on his face. He had just had sex with Tiffany. A marathon of sweating, humping, screaming loud, nearly having a heart attack type of sex, he couldn’t believe he just had sex with Tiffany. With him cumming in her pussy and again in her mouth, and with her ready to go again, he couldn’t remember the last time he ejaculated twice in a day unless he was masturbating himself morning and night.
“Wait Tiffany. Time out. I need a break,” said Walter huffing and puffing while checking his pulse and wishing he had 911 on his speed dial in case he was having a heart attack.
Never did he think his 48-year-old, out of shape body would experience making love to not only a much younger woman but also to a beautiful, black woman. With black men lusting over blonde, pretty women in the way that O. J. Simpson lusted over, romanced, and seduced Nicole Brown before she became his wife, a rare phenomenon, seldom does a black woman want to have sex with a white man. Of course, it’s much more tempting if that black man is a rich athlete but normally, unless they’re curious about having sex with a black cock, white women stay with white men. In the way that white men want to have sex with black women, black women are more apt to stay within their own race too.
Going back to the days of slaves and slavery, it’s always been the white men who wanted to sample the forbidden fruits of black women. In the way that so very many black rapists who’ve forced themselves on white women, it’s always been black women who’ve been forced to have sex with white men. Whether milk chocolate or dark chocolate in a black and white mixture of arms and legs with a black cherry on top, as far as Walter was concerned, indeed, bedding Tiffany was a real prize but was she a bittersweet one? In Walter’s case, perhaps in the future he needed to be more careful what he wished for because he may just get what he wished for and what he wished for in having sex with Tiffany now, he got in spades, no pun intended.
* * * * *
With his dress disheveled and his lipstick smeared all over his face and all over Tiffany’s beautiful face, her big tits, and her shaved pussy, Walter was the happiest he’s ever been in such a very long time. His dream come true to make love to Tiffany, it’s long been his erotic, sexual fantasy to make love to a woman while dressed as a woman. He’s wanted to experience making love to a woman while dressed as a woman ever since he dressed in his sister’s and mother’s clothes when he was 18-years-old.
“I love the sensation of kissing you while you’re wearing lipstick Walter. Put on more lipstick so that I can kiss it off again,” said Tiffany.
She was getting into having sex with Walter dressed as a woman as much as he was getting into have sex with Tiffany while he was dressed as a woman. Strangely enough, with her wanting to make love to man dressed as a woman in the way that he wanted to make love to a woman while he was dressed as a woman, the fact that they shared the same, sexual fantasy is beyond belief. Astronomical, no doubt, but what are the odds of that? If only Bill knew what he was missing in not dressing as a woman for the sake of having hot sex with his wife, maybe he’d readily agree to dress as a woman. If only Bill knew the two hour, hot and heavy sexual session he just had with Tiffany, perhaps he’d be enticed to dress as a woman too.
Only, Bill was the reason why Walter was in bed with Tiffany. In the way that Walter was now feeling too, Bill was too old to keep up with Tiffany, and always feeling tired too tired for sex. Fun in the beginning, Bill’s already admitted that his wife is too much of a sexual, wildcat of a woman for him. With Bill married to Tiffany for six years, even he couldn’t imagine having a steady diet of two hour sex day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year.
If Walter having a two hour sexual session with Tiffany is any indication of what she’s like all the time when naked and in bed, then she may be too much women for him too. She may be too much woman for any older man unless he’s in as good of a physical condition as Lance Armstrong. No doubt, any man who wanted to be with Tiffany sexually needed to dope his blood, take steroids, HGH, and an overdose of Viagra or Cialis.
“Hurry! I need another injection of doped blood. Give me another injection of anabolic steroids mixed with human growth hormone and another cocktail of Viagra and Cialis. Tiffany wants to cum again,” imagined Walter saying to an assistant charged with doping his blood, take steroids, and take an overdose of Viagra or Cialis.
* * * * *
“If I had a cigarette, I’d smoke it,” said Walter.
“There’s no smoking in my house,” said Tiffany not scolding him and not saying that in a confrontational voice but just telling him her preference.
Able to take it or leave it, he really didn’t smoke. Just, sometimes, occasionally, he needed a cigarette and, understandably, this was one of those times.
“It’s okay, Tiff,” he said.
Seemingly now that he ejaculated cum in her pussy and in her mouth, it was okay for him to call her Tiff, the pet name that Bill always called his wife, instead of Tiffany. Nonetheless, by the look on her face in not wanting to hurt Walter’s feelings with him a guest in her house and more than that, an invited sexual guest in her bedroom too, she seemingly felt compelled to explain her reasons for having a no smoking rule in her home. Just a personal choice for most people who are non-smokers, it was more than merely that with Tiffany.
“After coming home every night smelling like cigarettes and beer, if I never smell another cigarette and another beer, I’ll be a happy woman.” She looked at Walter. “If you want to always make me a happy woman, never smell of cigarettes and/or beer.”
Never wanting to make her an unhappy woman in the way that he was always making Linda an unhappy woman, he readily answered her with the promise of his personal assurance.
“Don’t worry. I won’t,” he said. “The only time I light up a cigarette is late at night, just before going to bed, while having a beer and watching you clean your kitchen naked,” he said giving her a dirty, little laugh.
“Pervert,” she said laughing and giving him an elbow in the ribs.
He couldn’t believe he was in bed with her. He couldn’t believe he just had sex with her. He couldn’t believe he fulfilled his sexual fantasy of having sex with a woman while dressed as a woman. He looked at the beautiful, naked black woman beside him with as much sexual lust as he looked at her with love.
“I couldn’t believe my eyes when you stood in front of your kitchen windows to face me while removing your bathrobe. Wow! In an instant and going cold turkey, I’d stop drinking beer and smoking cigarettes for you.”
He felt and fondled her big, brown breasts and fingered her hard, erect black nipples while she mindlessly fingered the head of his white cock. Without her even having to stroke him and without him even having to take a blue Viagra pill or a yellow Cialis pill, he was getting an erection again. He couldn’t believe he was getting another erection. Especially after he was recently experiencing some difficulty in his inability to get hard with Linda, he had no problem getting hard with Tiffany.
Seriously, c’mon, are you kidding me? Look at her. Just look at her. Who wouldn’t get an erection with Tiffany in bed with him naked? With her gorgeous when fully dressed, she’s even more stunning when naked and in bed with him. Either way, dressed or naked, she’s beautiful.
Maybe if Linda looked like Tiffany and had her body, he’d get erections with her all the time too. Maybe if Linda was an ex-stripper and could do what Tiffany can do with her hands, her mouth, and her pussy, he’s always be hard for Linda too. Suddenly, he tried to envision Linda as a black woman. Unable to visualize her with blue black hair and brown skin, he didn’t think she’d be nearly as pretty as Tiffany.
“That’s sweet. You offering to quit smoking and drinking is more than any man has offered to do for me,” she said. “So,” she said pausing to look at him. “Would you like to see my stripper clothes?”
Stripper clothes? Having never seen her striptease show, he couldn’t even imagine her stripper clothes. He imagined her dressed as Liberace albeit in abbreviated, barely there outfits that sparkled more than they covered her. He imagined her big breasts and her round ass protruding from her stripper clothes.
“Yeah, sure,” said Walter sitting up in bed. “I’d love to see your stripper clothes.”
Seemingly with the clothes she wore as a stripper more of a big deal to him than it was to her, she wasn’t able to match his excitement in showing him her stripper clothes in the way he looked forward to seeing her stripper clothes. Whether she worked at McDonalds or at Wal-Mart, her stripper clothes was just a uniform that she wore when stripping.
“I’ll tell you what. Give me half an hour to shower and change. You go next door to shower and get dressed and bring your panty collection over with you when you return,” she said. “I’d like to see them.”
Never having shown his panty collection to anyone, he was excited to show her his panty collection. With her having worked as a stripper, if anyone would understand his attraction to and his fetish for sexy panties, she would.
“There’s quite a lot panties,” he said with an embarrassed laugh. “With me collecting panties for years, I have quite a lot of panties.”
He intimately recalled his panty collection. With all of them memorable occasions in his life, he remembered the exact days and the stores where he bought each one.
“How many panties do you have?” She looked at him with more curiosity than surprise.
With each of them unique in color, style, and brand, he was trying to count them all in his head. He had so very many pairs of panties.
“Being that each pair doesn’t take up very much room, I still have enough panties to fill a big box,” he said with a happy smile. “There are briefs, classic, high-cut, boyleg, and control panties. I have hipsters, hip huggers, bikini, cheekies, cheekini, shortie, tangas, no line, thongs, V-string, and G-string panties. I have panties in satin, silk, cotton, lace, sheer, and no-show through styles. There’s white, ivory, nude, grey, black, pink, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, brown, gold, multi-color, stripe, plaid, print, and floral. I have panties made by Leonisa, Soma, Bracli, Carnival Cruise, Comfort Choice, Gilligan & O’Malley, Jockey, Xhilaration, Olga, Natori, Hanky Panky, Vanity Fair, Booty Pop, Bali, and TruFigure.”
Even though he knew exactly how many pairs of panties he had, 341, he didn’t want her to know that he was perverted enough to have counted them and foolhardy enough to have spent all of that money on them. He didn’t want her to know that he knew exactly how many pair of panties he had in his collection. It’s one thing to collect something, stamps or coins, but it’s quite another thing to have a sexual fetish for the items that are collected.
Presently, he had them all arranged in drawers in a cedar chest he has in the back of his closet. He’d have to dump them all in a box to carry them over. Yet, something that he’d look forward to doing later, he wouldn’t mind rearranging his panty collection again while revisiting with some of the panties he bought years ago.
“Wow, that’s amazing. Well, bring them over and we’ll go through them. What size are they?”
Interestingly enough, not all that familiar with women’s sizes, he bought his panties but just holding them up to his eyes while imagining a woman wearing them. Now a panty professional, he didn’t even have to look at the size to know the size. Routinely, he bought the same size panty.
“Mostly size 5 and 6,” he said.
As if he had bought his panties with her derriere in mind, she smiled.
“That’s my size,” she said. “Maybe I can model some for you.”
It sexually excited him to imagine her walking around her bedroom while wearing his panties.
“I’d like that,” he said.
* * * * *
Tiffany got out of bed and went in the shower while Walter went next door to shower and change. He thought it odd that she didn’t invite him to shower with her but he was relieved that she didn’t. Now knowing her sexual drive, she’d probably want him to give her sex in the shower. With his bad back, bad knee, and bad hip, he didn’t think he could lift her and hold her against the wet tile wall in the way he used to do with Linda twenty years ago.
Being that he now experienced having sex with a woman while dressed like a woman, he removed his wig, dress, and makeup. After he showered, he changed into his man’s clothes, jeans, sweatshirt, and sneakers. Then, digging in the cedar chest in the back of his closet, he retrieved his panty collection and neatly folded them while placing them in a box. Taking him longer than he thought it would, with Linda staying overnight at her sister’s house and with Bill working and giving him the thumbs up to spend time with and have sex with Tiffany, he had the time to intimately spend with his panties.
Intimately familiar with every pair of panties, he lugged his box of panties over to Tiffany’s house. He arrived in time to watch her do her hair and makeup. Something he always imagined her doing, he watched her parade around her house while wearing only her panties and bra. Content just to watch her, as if he was watching her from afar through her bedroom window with his binoculars, she was so beautiful to look at while doing mundane things.
Only, with him unable to see her bedroom from his windows, her bedroom faced the other side. With her not having blinds or shades on her kitchen windows and leaving her café curtains open, his unobstructed view was of her kitchen. If only he had an unobstructed view of her bedroom in the way he had an unobstructed view of her kitchen, he would have loved to watch her dress and undress. He would have loved to have watched her having sex with Bill.
“Is that it? Your box of panties,” she said looking at him through her bathroom mirror.
She turned to look at the box before looking back at him. She turned to look at him without giving him a judgmental look. She turned to look at him without making him feel bad that he had a fetish for women’s panties. She gave him a kind and loving look that he’d never expect to receive from anyone else knowing that his fetish is collecting women’s panties.
“This is most of them,” he said.
With him always being so secretive when having anything to do with his panty collection, he never thought he’d be proud of his panty collection when out in the open and not behind his closed door bedroom. Because in the way that Tiffany made him feel normal by being accepting of him cross dressing and collecting women’s panties, he rested his hand and arm on his box of panties as if he was the proud owner and indeed he was.
“That’s a big box of just panties,” she said with a little laugh.
If she thinks that’s a lot of panties, wait until she sees his women’s shoe collection.
“If ever there’s a panty shortage, we’re all set,” he said returning her laugh.
Thinking that he’d feel uncomfortably guilty and perversely perverted exposing so much of himself to the woman he so loved, he didn’t. He only wished that Linda was as understanding about his need to cross dress and about his panty and shoe fetishes. Knowing she’d never be as understanding and as accepting of him as Tiffany is, he’s always hid everything from her. Too judgmental of him, no doubt, she’d want to take him to see a psychiatrist.
“It’s amazing the secrets we keep Walter,” she said. “After moving out of my neighborhood to live with Bill when we were married, not many of the residents here know that I used to be a stripper. Surely, all that they noticed of me and knew of me was what they saw of me, that I was a black woman married to a white man. If only they knew that I was a stripper too, I wonder what they’d say,” she said with a laugh. “They’d probably think that I was a prostitute.”
Walter gave her an understanding look.
“It’s enough for them to accept you as a black woman living in an all-white neighborhood, with Bill being a police officer is probably the reason why they accepted you living him. Yet, knowing the type of people who live here, if they knew you had worked as a stripper, they’d probably have nothing to do with you. In addition to you being black and living in racist America, you’re only redeeming quality is that you’re beautiful and shapely,” said Walter with a sad laugh.
She gave him a curious look.
“Thanks, I think,” said Tiffany with a sad smile.
Never mind her being a stripper too, he looked at her with renewed insight of the struggles she faced as a black woman living in a white neighbor and living in racist America.
“Stripping, strippers, cross dressers, panty and shoe fetishes, extramarital affairs, as well as a man who cuckolds his wife are all not acceptable, appropriate behavior in this neighborhood,” he said with a laugh. “Yet here we both are doing all of those things behind closed bedroom doors. If only our neighbors knew,” he said with a laugh.
She nodded her head in agreement.
“No doubt with stripper and whore synonymous in most people’s minds, most of the strippers I knew weren’t slutty at all but were students, mothers, and housewives who were desperate enough for money to willingly strip off their clothes. With you a cross dressing collector of panties and women’s shoes and with me an exhibitionist who cleans her kitchen naked while knowing her neighbor is watching her, we make for quite the modern age couple,” she said with a dirty laugh.
He stared at her standing there in her panty and bra as if he was spying on her from his office window instead of sitting on her bed in her bedroom.
“That was hot fun to watch you clean your kitchen naked but so much more fun to have sex with you,” he said.
He walked up behind her to hug her while rubbing his semi-erect cock through his jeans and up against her panties. He reached up to feel her big tits through her bra and spun her around to kiss her. She was so very beautiful and he couldn’t believe he was there in her bedroom after having had sex with her. He loved looking into her big, beautiful, brown eyes before kissing her.
Letting her go for her to finish dressing, she slipped on a tight pair of jeans and a loose, comfortable top. Not bothering putting on shoes, she sat on the bed beside him. With her sitting beside him, knowing that he no doubt had more panties than she did, he wondered about her panty collection. He wondered about her shoe collection. After showing her his panty collection, he couldn’t wait to see her stripper clothes.
“Here’s something you probably thought you’d ever hear me say,” she said with a laugh. “Let’s have a look at your panties Walter,” she said laughing.
Walter opened his box of panties.
“Unlike other panty collectors, these aren’t the used panties of other women after I had sex with them. These aren’t trophies. Until having sex with you, I’ve only had sex with Linda. I bought these panties because these are just panties that I liked the color, the feel, and/or the style of them. There’s more than three hundred panties in the box,” he said not wanting her to know that he knew exactly how many panties there were in the box. “They’re all new, most still have the tags on them.”