Plastic Panties: Polish My Knickers

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Hairy Pussy

We met on-line but didn’t ‘talk’ much. Vicky didn’t want to sit around. She didn’t want to get fat on her phone. And I agreed. Life is for living. We had a few drinks but we already knew our shared interests. I asked, “Can I pop to yours? I won’t try anything on.” Maybe she thought I was being coy. I wasn’t. I was acting outside of my comfort zone. Vicky drove to hers then disappeared. She came back transformed.

“You have one purpose in life, and one purpose only. That sole purpose of yours is to polish every single pair of shiny, tight knickers, I wear. Now, do we have a deal?”

I look at her black bobbed hair and that stern face – those authoritative unblinking hazel eyes. I glance down at her tight body that is honed for sports. Her large brownish nipples are full and aroused. But most of all, my eyes fix on her high-waisted, red and full-zipped, PVC knickers. My kinky panties stir. The plastic rubs my dancing cock. It cracks and rustles as the sheer plastic slides across my butt.

I look over her shoulder to the blank wall Maltepe Escort and mutter. I can’t believe my luck. I’m floundering and indecisive. She lashes out with her whip which cracks my taut plastic covered arse. I yelp in pain. And yet I’m familiar with leather fronds as I self-flagellate, the best I can, whilst wanking. I love to whip the whip up beneath my balls as I pump my cock harder with my other hand.

“I agree,” I agreed, louder than before and certainly no less in earnest. She whips my noisy knickers again. “Very good,” she replies.

I lean back to a kneeling position. My smarting arse rests on my heels. I suppose I am like a little puppy. A mucky little pup with a raging boner.

“Well, I think you’ll begin,” she glared. “There’s no time like the present.” Then she rolls back, her back against the kitchen wall. Her legs are wide spread in the rudest of moves. The gusset of her deep red, kinky panties ripple and stretch across her raging clitty. I crawl forward to her, looking at her tightly closed Anadolu Yakası Escort eyes. She quivers in anticipation and I bury my hungry face in the smell of hot, rustling plastic.

I can smell her glorious musk as I work my tongue around the stiff folds of her knickers. I trace the folds and creases with my tongue tip. I circle and flick. I prod her glorious PVC.

Then I use the length of my tongue across her shiny, camel-toe. I rub her knickers with my lips. I make circles as I drink her in through my nose and throat. I feel really heady with lust. My fingers hook in the thick plastic knicker elastics that pull tighest on her hips. I loosen them a little. I can taste her excitement as my tongue works faster to outline the lady’s muff. I lick with hunger. I lick. I polish. I polish and lick her pervy panties like it’s an Olympics Sport.

I try to unzip her like they do in films. But I’m dizzy and burning with an animal greed. I unzip her conventionally, with my quivering fingers, to reveal her plump, İstanbul Escort hot cunt. My fingers tease her open. I taste and taste her metallic musk. I lap and lap. My tongue burrows and strains with hunger.

Then I reach down to my own shiny, plastic knickers and slide my hand inside for a panty wank. She moans. She groans as her heavy breath shallows. She pulls my hair as I wank. She pulls me in tighter. I lick and wank. I pound my cock until she screams out. Her love juices hit her plastic. And I lap. Oh, how I lap! I tease her hot knickers aside to harvest her love. My nose and chin glistening with her cum.

“You little bastard!” She snaps. She whips me again as I hurry to finish myself off before she can stop me.

“You must never wank. Ever! And you must not release my juices.” That was enough. I shot my spuzz everywhere.

“You little bastard! You’ve jizzed all over my kitchen floor.” She whips and she whips. She thrashes me like fuck. Even my sticky hand can’t block her fury.

“I can see you need to be taught a bit of etiquette, you filthy little pup. But first you will clean me up.”

I am red and smarting. My tongue soon warms up again. My fingers too. My fingers work to the rhythm of my racing heart. I try not to think about her wet pussy – her hot, hungry pussy in those kinky knickers.

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