I shuffled through my underwear drawer looking for a nice granny-panty pair to sleep in. I noticed my tidy-whitey pair, striped in pastels, and lightly stained with period mishaps.
I darted for them at top speed, quickly pulling them out, anticipating sleep. As I ripped them from my panty drawer, I accidentally brought another pair along for the ride. It was a thin, silky thong- an invisible panty line panty from Victoria’s Secret. They shaped me well. They breathed well. They were comfortable and sexy.
Quite an ideal undergarment.
With my quick grab, I accidentally dropped them on the floor. I stared at them, wrinkled, slightly aged. They brought me back to when I first bought them and to when I first wore them.
I remember him lifting my homecoming dress, caressing the invisible panty line panty as if they were truly invisible. He pressed himself against me and kissed me deeply. I fell into his lips, I fell into his heat. My thin panty’s were wet, sticky, holding an urge that was begging to be satisfied.
But the panty withheld it’s class. The panty gave him an insatiable taste of what he could have.
Too bad all he got was 78% nylon and 22% lycra.