Panty Thief
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Panty Thief free porn video
From probably about the age of 16/17 I started to switch my priorities in life from playing football to girls. Till then kicking a ball round around and watching my local team was all that mattered. My sister was 2 years younger than me and my mother would be in her mid 40's. Bearing in mind I'm now in my 50's they were not role models in my development sexually. I've read about how some men would try to get peeks of the female members of there housr naked or in stages of undress. Not me. I borrowed begged and stole porn mags as did every k** my age. The pages were invariably stuck together after a few days. I didn't have the sense to shoot into a hanky or whatever. No not me, straight on the models picture. What I noticed even at that age, was that I liked the girls to have some underwear on. Sure I liked seeing pussy and tilts the same as any man, but for some reason I liked underwear.
Fast forward I couple of years and I'd had the normal beginnings of a young mans sex life....fumbling about, getting knocked back, feel of tit here and there, sticky finger, then the big one when I was going out with a girl who was 2 years older than me called Anne. Now she was a real posh bird who had originated from London, and to be truthful was probably out of my league, but anyway she and I got it together and she took my virginity. That was many years ago, and not the point of my story. Although the sex was out of this world, and it was, what I didn't understand was why I loved her lingerie. Lads my age bragged about how much pussy they were getting, and how they fucked so and so and got a blow job of some girl at a dance.....none mentioned what these girls wore. I realised then that I was 'different'
When Anne and I had a date, which normally ended with us fucking, she always wore nice matching panties and bra. When she really got dressed up the suspenders and stockings appeared. All matching. Always black. I loved it. As it was the only body I had properly explored, comparisons couldn't be made. To me she was perfection. And it probably was. After we had been going out for a while, maybe 6 months, I preferred her to leave her underwear on when I licked her and fucked her. There wasn't, , and still isn't, anything better than the feel of stockings when your making love. It's getting me hard even now, just thinking about it.
Annes father had bought a farm and built a stable that Anne wanted and that's what her job was...meaning she was an early riser and had to be up at 5 in the morning to work the horses, leaving me in bed.
That's when it all started. My career as a panty thief.
Of course I didn't actually steal that many of Anne's. I didn't need to. They were all there in front of me. I marvelled at the feel of them, how soft and silky. My favourites were the French knickers. Like small football shorts. Haha. I tried them on, as one does, and of course they were to small, but I would always think that the material in the gusset must be right into Anne's cunt. Of course they weren't that tight, but that's what I liked to think. At the beginning I never thought about checking the wash basket for dirty knickers, I preferred the freshly laundered ones. Her cotton work knickers were on one side of the drawer and her sexy ones on the other. Hers bras and stockings in another. I learned about bra sizes and panty sizes, and how she had a different size bra for when she was on her period because her nipples were really sore when she was menstrating. She was the only girl I've known, who loved to fuck when she was on her period, because we could do it without a condom. She wasnt on the pill and we used condoms which I hated, We had sex in the shower which washed away all the blood. No woman I've been with since would do that.
I went out with Anne for nearly two years and during that time I learned a lot. She of course knew about my love of her underwear and would dress up accordingly for me. She, on occasion, would even take me shopping so I could chose. That was fun, but not as much fun as when she would tell me that she had a surprise for me. Those were horribly long nights out waiting till I could get her home and undress her down to her undies and run my hands over her new silk. I would bite her hard nipples through the material, and my favourite was poking the material covering her pussy with my tounge. I'd then just pull the gusset to one side and work on her that way. I rarely took her underwear off until after we finished.
I progressed to checking her soiled panties after one night when I'd arrived early and she was still in her work gear. She was still in her jodhpurs and boots and a tee shirt, and, as it was summer, and hot, she looked really fucking sexy...all hot and sticky.... I bent her over a chair, pulled her jodhpurs and cotton knickers down, and rammed my cock straight into her messy cunt. She had told me many times how riding horses makes her horny as fuck, because of the pommel on her saddle bashing her clit all morning. I remember that day vividly, because it sticks in my mind the various smells I encountered that day. There was the smell of horse shit, from her boots. The smell of sweat from her body and hair. Smell of her sweaty cunt. And then finally the smell of sex. All mixed together it was quite a concoction. Happy days. After we finished the phone rang and there was an emergency at the stables, meaning she had to leave immediately. No time to shower....no time to change. She pulled up her knickers and jodhpurs and left immediately, cursing that she must stink. I promised I'd run her a bath. Which I did. On returning an hour later she stripped her work clothes off and went into the bathroom for a long soak. I went into the bedroom and saw her knickers on top of her pile of dirty clothes. What caught my eye was that the gusset was on display and it was soaking wet. I picked it up and examined them, marvelling at the story that these plain pair of cotton knickers told. There was the cum stains from me obviously, but the whole of the rest of the gusset was absolutely soaking wet....as if she had pissed herself. I remember vividly raising her pants to my nose and drawing the aroma of everything there deep into my nasal passages and getting the feeling I had finally arrived at my goal. For the first time in my life I licked the material closest to a woman's most intimate flesh and noted then that this was the first time, but, it wouldn't be the last. I added another deposit of cum into them and put all her dirty clothes into the wash basket.
From then on I tried to get her to leave her knickers on if I had finished in her cunt. I wasn't bothered if she had swallowed my cum or if I had shot on her tits. I loved the combined excretions of both of us. I had many a sneaky wank into her knickers after that night. Being In my prime I was good for many erections and we fucked accordingly. She was a horny bitch as well and loved my cock as much as I loved her pussy. Soon it was all history. Unfortunately for me, another man was to appear in her life. A man who was wealthy and more in her league than I ever could be. We split and I was of course devastated
Six months later I was stating to feel a little better. My first love was fading from my immediate thought when I woke every morning. I needed a new girlfriend but I still felt as if it was to soon. My friends were all dipping there dicks all over the place, all telling me to get hold of such and such, she would empty my balls they'd say. I just wasn't like that then. I preferred a steady girlfriend and all that shit. Shy I think. Maybe. Who knows.
I was now coming up to a period in my life when all of the 21st birthdays were due. Parties.
Although I'd been to friends houses over the years it wasn't an era when you had sleepovers. I'd stayed at relations overnights obviously but never friends. Now it was the party season there was a godsent opportunity to spent time in friends houses which through up the chance too.......search knicker drawers. Nearly all my friends had sisters, some of them plain janes....some of them smoking hot. One or two of my mates even had mothers whose panties were worth checking. Nowadays there are millions of milfs....in the 70's/80's they were all the age of my mother. Not a turn on. But some were. Thinking back, the ones who were eye catching had a bit of a reputation. Still, reputation or not, I was going to be in these women's houses to celebrate there sons coming of age party, and, like it or not, I was going to be doing my best to leave there houses with either mums or sisters knickers in my pocket.
And I did. Over 2 years I amassed 32 pairs of knickers. Mostly soiled as well. I would have many visits to the toilet. Suss out where people slept, chose which bedroom was the target, sometimes it was 1, my record was 3. I always carried a pencil torch, and never ever got drunk. Timing was of an essence. . If there was a downstairs toilet as well as an upstairs, game on. Only 1 loo....dangerous. But doable. Those nights I had to act pissed, so if I was caught in a bedroom, I'd just act drunk and lost. I led a charmed life. Never caught outright, but there were a few near things. Once I was in my best friends oldest sisters bedroom, who wasn't tat the party, and I'd foolishly decided to put on the knickers I'd stolen. Instead of stealing them, going to the bathroom and putting them on,,as most other like minded men would do. No no, I started to change in her bedroom. Luckily for me I heard talking outside and when her mum came in I was under the bed and escaped with my reputation in tact....and my prize attached to my body.
Over this period I put all the items of clothing I had acquired into separate bags and labeled each pair as to owners. They were very very very well hidden.
While hurriedly searching rooms, I would notice things that were there. Things like jewelry and money. Condoms and pill cards. They were in the mums rooms. I didn't take a penny...I'm a knicker thief.....that's all. It's bad enough, but that's all. In the sisters rooms it was mainly make up and perfume, tapes and lots of frilly girly things. I once found a dildo at the back of a drawer with a playboy magazine. This girl never married, and twenty years later announced she was a lesbian.
For all this time I never dated, never even tried. I was obsessed with making plans for my next 'raid'. I was really successful.
If I was to bump into the owner of one of my prizes, I would stop and chat with them. I would get a semi on, knowing that I would be using her knickers to jack off to thinking about the secretions in the gusset as I held it to my nose. I never came in them. Well, sometimes I did then chucked them. But I kept my favourites. The lesbians I kept for years. The thought of her ramming her cunt with that dildo must have produced pints of my cum over the years. Even after she came out, it made it better. She was gorgeous...and the thought of her getting licked and fisted by another woman was eroticism personified. There was a pair owned my a friends step mum. Elsie I think she was called. She was a big woman but tall as well. Very attractive. The knickers I stole had been worn after she had been fucked, they were caked in cum and still damp. She was one of the ones with a reputation. I had it in my head that she had been bent over a desk in the office she worked and fucked by her boss then pulled them back up and was sent back to work. Although I sniffed that gusset probably hundreds of times I never licked them.
That takes me to a period where I was dating a girl called Sheila, my first wife to be. She turned out to be a proper cunt, but brought another slant to my fetish. In part 2 I will tell you how I pushed the boundaries and risks in my development. Even now, many years later, I recall vividly how, if caught, I would have been right royally fucked. But fetishes are obsessions and nothing stops you. If your like me you know what I mean.
Fast forward I couple of years and I'd had the normal beginnings of a young mans sex life....fumbling about, getting knocked back, feel of tit here and there, sticky finger, then the big one when I was going out with a girl who was 2 years older than me called Anne. Now she was a real posh bird who had originated from London, and to be truthful was probably out of my league, but anyway she and I got it together and she took my virginity. That was many years ago, and not the point of my story. Although the sex was out of this world, and it was, what I didn't understand was why I loved her lingerie. Lads my age bragged about how much pussy they were getting, and how they fucked so and so and got a blow job of some girl at a dance.....none mentioned what these girls wore. I realised then that I was 'different'
When Anne and I had a date, which normally ended with us fucking, she always wore nice matching panties and bra. When she really got dressed up the suspenders and stockings appeared. All matching. Always black. I loved it. As it was the only body I had properly explored, comparisons couldn't be made. To me she was perfection. And it probably was. After we had been going out for a while, maybe 6 months, I preferred her to leave her underwear on when I licked her and fucked her. There wasn't, , and still isn't, anything better than the feel of stockings when your making love. It's getting me hard even now, just thinking about it.
Annes father had bought a farm and built a stable that Anne wanted and that's what her job was...meaning she was an early riser and had to be up at 5 in the morning to work the horses, leaving me in bed.
That's when it all started. My career as a panty thief.
Of course I didn't actually steal that many of Anne's. I didn't need to. They were all there in front of me. I marvelled at the feel of them, how soft and silky. My favourites were the French knickers. Like small football shorts. Haha. I tried them on, as one does, and of course they were to small, but I would always think that the material in the gusset must be right into Anne's cunt. Of course they weren't that tight, but that's what I liked to think. At the beginning I never thought about checking the wash basket for dirty knickers, I preferred the freshly laundered ones. Her cotton work knickers were on one side of the drawer and her sexy ones on the other. Hers bras and stockings in another. I learned about bra sizes and panty sizes, and how she had a different size bra for when she was on her period because her nipples were really sore when she was menstrating. She was the only girl I've known, who loved to fuck when she was on her period, because we could do it without a condom. She wasnt on the pill and we used condoms which I hated, We had sex in the shower which washed away all the blood. No woman I've been with since would do that.
I went out with Anne for nearly two years and during that time I learned a lot. She of course knew about my love of her underwear and would dress up accordingly for me. She, on occasion, would even take me shopping so I could chose. That was fun, but not as much fun as when she would tell me that she had a surprise for me. Those were horribly long nights out waiting till I could get her home and undress her down to her undies and run my hands over her new silk. I would bite her hard nipples through the material, and my favourite was poking the material covering her pussy with my tounge. I'd then just pull the gusset to one side and work on her that way. I rarely took her underwear off until after we finished.
I progressed to checking her soiled panties after one night when I'd arrived early and she was still in her work gear. She was still in her jodhpurs and boots and a tee shirt, and, as it was summer, and hot, she looked really fucking sexy...all hot and sticky.... I bent her over a chair, pulled her jodhpurs and cotton knickers down, and rammed my cock straight into her messy cunt. She had told me many times how riding horses makes her horny as fuck, because of the pommel on her saddle bashing her clit all morning. I remember that day vividly, because it sticks in my mind the various smells I encountered that day. There was the smell of horse shit, from her boots. The smell of sweat from her body and hair. Smell of her sweaty cunt. And then finally the smell of sex. All mixed together it was quite a concoction. Happy days. After we finished the phone rang and there was an emergency at the stables, meaning she had to leave immediately. No time to shower....no time to change. She pulled up her knickers and jodhpurs and left immediately, cursing that she must stink. I promised I'd run her a bath. Which I did. On returning an hour later she stripped her work clothes off and went into the bathroom for a long soak. I went into the bedroom and saw her knickers on top of her pile of dirty clothes. What caught my eye was that the gusset was on display and it was soaking wet. I picked it up and examined them, marvelling at the story that these plain pair of cotton knickers told. There was the cum stains from me obviously, but the whole of the rest of the gusset was absolutely soaking wet....as if she had pissed herself. I remember vividly raising her pants to my nose and drawing the aroma of everything there deep into my nasal passages and getting the feeling I had finally arrived at my goal. For the first time in my life I licked the material closest to a woman's most intimate flesh and noted then that this was the first time, but, it wouldn't be the last. I added another deposit of cum into them and put all her dirty clothes into the wash basket.
From then on I tried to get her to leave her knickers on if I had finished in her cunt. I wasn't bothered if she had swallowed my cum or if I had shot on her tits. I loved the combined excretions of both of us. I had many a sneaky wank into her knickers after that night. Being In my prime I was good for many erections and we fucked accordingly. She was a horny bitch as well and loved my cock as much as I loved her pussy. Soon it was all history. Unfortunately for me, another man was to appear in her life. A man who was wealthy and more in her league than I ever could be. We split and I was of course devastated
Six months later I was stating to feel a little better. My first love was fading from my immediate thought when I woke every morning. I needed a new girlfriend but I still felt as if it was to soon. My friends were all dipping there dicks all over the place, all telling me to get hold of such and such, she would empty my balls they'd say. I just wasn't like that then. I preferred a steady girlfriend and all that shit. Shy I think. Maybe. Who knows.
I was now coming up to a period in my life when all of the 21st birthdays were due. Parties.
Although I'd been to friends houses over the years it wasn't an era when you had sleepovers. I'd stayed at relations overnights obviously but never friends. Now it was the party season there was a godsent opportunity to spent time in friends houses which through up the chance too.......search knicker drawers. Nearly all my friends had sisters, some of them plain janes....some of them smoking hot. One or two of my mates even had mothers whose panties were worth checking. Nowadays there are millions of milfs....in the 70's/80's they were all the age of my mother. Not a turn on. But some were. Thinking back, the ones who were eye catching had a bit of a reputation. Still, reputation or not, I was going to be in these women's houses to celebrate there sons coming of age party, and, like it or not, I was going to be doing my best to leave there houses with either mums or sisters knickers in my pocket.
And I did. Over 2 years I amassed 32 pairs of knickers. Mostly soiled as well. I would have many visits to the toilet. Suss out where people slept, chose which bedroom was the target, sometimes it was 1, my record was 3. I always carried a pencil torch, and never ever got drunk. Timing was of an essence. . If there was a downstairs toilet as well as an upstairs, game on. Only 1 loo....dangerous. But doable. Those nights I had to act pissed, so if I was caught in a bedroom, I'd just act drunk and lost. I led a charmed life. Never caught outright, but there were a few near things. Once I was in my best friends oldest sisters bedroom, who wasn't tat the party, and I'd foolishly decided to put on the knickers I'd stolen. Instead of stealing them, going to the bathroom and putting them on,,as most other like minded men would do. No no, I started to change in her bedroom. Luckily for me I heard talking outside and when her mum came in I was under the bed and escaped with my reputation in tact....and my prize attached to my body.
Over this period I put all the items of clothing I had acquired into separate bags and labeled each pair as to owners. They were very very very well hidden.
While hurriedly searching rooms, I would notice things that were there. Things like jewelry and money. Condoms and pill cards. They were in the mums rooms. I didn't take a penny...I'm a knicker thief.....that's all. It's bad enough, but that's all. In the sisters rooms it was mainly make up and perfume, tapes and lots of frilly girly things. I once found a dildo at the back of a drawer with a playboy magazine. This girl never married, and twenty years later announced she was a lesbian.
For all this time I never dated, never even tried. I was obsessed with making plans for my next 'raid'. I was really successful.
If I was to bump into the owner of one of my prizes, I would stop and chat with them. I would get a semi on, knowing that I would be using her knickers to jack off to thinking about the secretions in the gusset as I held it to my nose. I never came in them. Well, sometimes I did then chucked them. But I kept my favourites. The lesbians I kept for years. The thought of her ramming her cunt with that dildo must have produced pints of my cum over the years. Even after she came out, it made it better. She was gorgeous...and the thought of her getting licked and fisted by another woman was eroticism personified. There was a pair owned my a friends step mum. Elsie I think she was called. She was a big woman but tall as well. Very attractive. The knickers I stole had been worn after she had been fucked, they were caked in cum and still damp. She was one of the ones with a reputation. I had it in my head that she had been bent over a desk in the office she worked and fucked by her boss then pulled them back up and was sent back to work. Although I sniffed that gusset probably hundreds of times I never licked them.
That takes me to a period where I was dating a girl called Sheila, my first wife to be. She turned out to be a proper cunt, but brought another slant to my fetish. In part 2 I will tell you how I pushed the boundaries and risks in my development. Even now, many years later, I recall vividly how, if caught, I would have been right royally fucked. But fetishes are obsessions and nothing stops you. If your like me you know what I mean.
Trish
- 14.03.2021
- 19
- 0
