Can someone critique my second story?

[Bella-36]

Hi,

I posted my first story here about a week ago. I was so excited about the feedback that I received, that I decided to write another story. I finished it up last night. Before I post it, I was wondering if there's anyone interested in reading it over, and hopefully giving me some constructive criticism. I would really appreciate any advice, because I'm new to this.

I could email the story or post it if anyone is interested. I'm kinda new to all this, so I'm not sure exactly how it all works, and what the proper ettiquette is.

Well, Thanks in advance,

-Bella

 

[Chicklet]

Hey Bella!

I would certainly be willing to go over your story. You can e-mail it to me in msword form if you want.

Another thing you could do, if you want more than one person to look at it, would be to post it here. I've seen people do that before.

Also, you could go to the Author's Hangout with the same request, and the Editors Forum.

Good luck!

-Chicklet

 

[Bella-36]

Thanks for the reply, Chicklet.

OK, i'm going to paste the story below. I welcome any feedback! And be honest!

Hello again! As you may know from my first story, I’m rather new to the whole “erotic literature” thing. My first story was about an experience that happened when I was 18, and since I got so much positive feedback, I thought I’d write another story. I had no idea the effect I could have on some of you guys (and gals)! I was extremely flattered by so many of the comments that people sent to me, I began to think about what my second story could be.

I’ve been thinking about it for a few days now,

I thought about many different topics. Fantasies of mine. Things I wished I’d tried when I was younger (but never did). Things I’d like to try some day. Things I’d be too scared or shy to try in real life…things I’ll never experience for real. I could live vicariously through the characters in my story.

The more I though about it, the more the possibilities seemed endless. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with a topic. Maybe some day, I will write a story about my deepest darkest fantasies…fantasies of being pulled over and patted down by a frisky cop…fantasies of being a rich lady and having my maid strip for me…fantasies about having sex in an elevator with a guy I’ve never met before…fantasies about a “sexy secretary” at work…

But for now, I’ll just write about what I feel I can write about best…things that I’ve actually experienced.

Now, believe me, before you get the wrong idea, I am NOT THAT sexually adventurous. I would say that I’ve had an ‘average’ sex life, other than being bi-sexual and having had a few girlfriends. I was married for 7 years, and am now just starting to get back into the dating pool. During my life, I’ve had sex with probably 5 or 6 girls, and about 8 guys, including my ex-husband. So, while that’s probably more than some people, it’s certainly less than others.

Plus, to be completely honest with you, I’m actually a bit modest about sex. I’ve never really had sex in public. The oddest place I’ve ever had sex was in a car. I’ve never done it on the beach, or in the park, or in an airplane, or any of that kind of stuff. I’m not really kinky with my partners, and I’ve never tried whips or paddles or any of that stuff either.

Now, here’s how I’ve come to terms with my sexuality over the years: I have lots of fantasies, but I have a tendency to keep my fantasies separate from my reality. In other words, I’ll fantasize about that guy in the elevator, but I would never actually initiate anything. And if he tried something, I’d probably be to weirded-out to even enjoy it.

At this point, I should probably apologize for publicly psycho-analyzing myself, but I guess if I’m going to write a story about what really happened to me, I feel obliged to explain who the ‘real me’ is.

As I mentioned in my previous story, I’d had a few boyfriends in high school, but I didn’t develop an interest in girls until I was 18. My experience with Kelly was my first sexual encounter with another female body, and it was the only one I had for quite awhile. My upbringing was very strict Roman Catholic, so being attracted to girls made me feel very perverted. I’m sure there are those of you out there that know exactly what I mean. I ended up keeping these feelings to myself for a long time. In a way, it made the thoughts even more erotic! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I LOVE men (and all their associated parts), but at that time in my life, my late teen years, the sexual thoughts of women I had were completely blowing my ‘straight’ thoughts out of the water. I would get 10 times more turned on fantasizing about a pretty girl in class than a hot guy.

And I’d get even MORE turned on fantasizing about my female teachers…the ones that were 25…35…45…it didn’t matter. Some how, by them being more ‘mature’ than me, it was just…I don’t know….it drove me wild!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to turn into an “I had sex with my teacher” story. I’ve read a lot of those stories, and I can’t imagine any of them actually happening. They’re good reading sometimes, but still. I’m just mentioning this because that’s my earliest memory of being attracted to older women. And I don’t just mean ‘old’ women, I mean, any lady that was at least a few years older than me. This was during the last few months of my Senior Year in High School, and I just remember it so well. It’s just one of those eras I’ll never forget. Unless of course I get alzheimers some day (which is another good reason for me to be writing this down).

I think that because I’d only had one lesbian experience at this point, that one evening played a huge role in how my thoughts and fantasies and fetishes developed. As I said in my first story, the thing that struck me the most about that night with Kelly was how completely DRENCHED her panties had gotten, and how exquisitely and indescribably erotic her juices smelled and tasted on my fingers. I think it is because of what happened that evening that I developed a fixation with panties.

Although I’m new to writing erotic literature, I’ve been a regular in chatrooms and on IRC for probably a good 5 years. In that time, I’ve discussed my ‘panty fetish’ with lots of people, and what I’ve discovered is that most people think of this as a “male” fetish. In other words, it’s usually men that fantasize about a woman’s panties, and her musky smell. Maybe that makes me the exception to the rule, but because of that experience with Kelly, I just have this ‘thing’ for panties and lingerie.

Not to mention, that was also the turning point where my nose began to hold it’s own as a sexual organ. Before then, I don’t ever remember the sense of smell coming in to play at all. Of course, I would get aroused by what I saw….what my boyfriends had whispered to me…by the touch of their soft caresses on my skin, or their strong hands rubbing me down there. But suddenly, the thought of Kelly’s smell, or the fantasies of what another woman’s pussy or panties might smell like…Mmmmm….it still warms me up just thinking about it!

I would sit in class and stare…fantasizing about my teachers. I’d undress them with my mind, and I wasn’t interested in getting them completely naked…I just wanted to imagine them in nothing but their underwear….their lingerie…their stockings….their panties. Even teachers that weren’t attractive at all somehow manifested themselves in my erotic thoughts if I imagined them in panties.

I became obsessed. Then I became more obsessed. Every woman I’d meet…I would imagine her in panties. And I was able to keep my fantasies in check for months. But at some point, it began to collude my thoughts. I wasn’t interested in girls my age anymore…I was interested in their moms….their aunts… Well, that’s not completely true…I still was attracted to girls my age, but there was something especially erotic about an older woman.

My fetish first manifested itself right before graduation. I had gone over to my friend Carolyn’s house (not her real name) to study for finals. I was a very smart student, as I mentioned in my last story, so I never really had to study that much, but still, I mean, finals are important. So, there were a group of about 6 or 7 of us girls studying for one of our finals. I can’t remember which final, but it doesn’t matter anyway.

Carolyn and I had been friends for about 2 years, so I had been over to her house before. Probably, once a month or so. She was a very cute girl as well. Not as cute as Kelly (at least not to me), but cute by pretty much any standard. She wasn’t my type though. Not that I have a type, but if I did, she wouldn’t be it. No particular reason…just not my type. Too skinny, I guess. I have a tendency to prefer curvier women.

Her mom on the other hand…now that’s a COMPLETELY different story. Curves like you wouldn’t even believe! She was probably in her early or mid 40’s, about the same age as most of my other friends’ parents. She was short though…couldn’t have been any taller than 5 feet. She wasn’t fat by any means, but maybe because she was so short, her curves just seemed, proportionately, curvier.

Mrs. Brown (not her real last name either) was a blonde…GORGEOUS blonde hair….long. I’m not really into blondes, never really was. I’ve always pretty much preferred brunettes and darker hair, but I don’t think I would have changed one hair on her head. She wore kind of a lot of make-up, but whatever it was, it made her just glow like an angel. Amazing blue eyes…bright blue. I think they stood out because she wore a lot of eyeliner. Ample chest. Ample isn’t even the word. Just, a beautiful, natural, well-rounded healthy large set of breasts. Gorgeous legs…the kind of thighs and rear end you just want to grab!

Now, in all the times I had been to Carolyn’s house, I probably never even gave her mom a second glance. But, after that incident with Kelly, I was looking at life in a whole new perspective. Mrs. Brown became simply amazing. I wish I had a better vocabulary…maybe I could come up with a more fitting adjective to describe her. She was…perfect. Her sunny personality, her gleaming smile, her teeth were whiter than white, she was radiant!

Believe me, I had gone over to Carolyn’s house with every intention of studying for whatever final we were cramming for, but the moment I saw Mrs. Brown that night, I think probably an ounce of juice flowed into my panties and I was completely taken by her. She was a perfect mom…bringing us sodas and chips and popcorn, or whatever snacks we were having. I remember she was wearing white shorts. I think she had some kind of light colored tank top on as well, but that could just be my imagination filling in the gaps.

The shorts I DEFINITELY remember though. When she bent down to put the snacks on the coffee table, her panty line was completely obvious. At the time, it was like a flashing neon sign to me. I just HAD to stare! Well, that’s an exaggeration too. But I would definitely try to catch a quick glimpse every once in awhile each time she passed through the living room where we were studying.

As you can probably guess, I was WAY more interested in thinking about Mrs. Brown’s panties than I was about studying. Finals became the furthest thing from my mind. At some point, we took a study break. In retrospect, this study break has become the epicenter of my lifelong panty fetish.

The Browns had 2 bathrooms in their house. Because there were about 7 of us all taking a break at the same time, we were using both bathrooms….the main one, and the one off the master bedroom. I somehow managed to take my ‘turn’ when her parent’s bathroom was open…just in case. I’ll openly admit, I was secretly hoping to find a pair of Mrs. Brown’s underwear laying on the floor in her bedroom…just to see what they looked like. I slowly walked through the bedroom, but I remember the place being spic and span…completely clean from top to bottom. The bed made, all the clothes put away, nothing laying around on the floor. Oh well, it was worth a shot.

I stepped into the bathroom…turned the light on, and locked the door behind me. As I sat down to go pee, the whirring vent masked the sound of my tinkling. And THAT’S when I saw it. The hamper. The wicker hamper. Right in front of the toilet, in the corner of the room, was the wicker hamper. I distinctly remember my heart jumping practically out of my chest at the sight of it. The thoughts blazing through my head were enough to speed up my breathing. I couldn’t have been more excited if a bag of money fell into my lap. Thinking about…hoping…what might be in there was simply…exhilarating.

As I sat there peeing, I imagined what might be in there. Would I find Mrs. Brown’s panties? Maybe the pair that she wore yesterday or last night, and she tossed them in there right before she took a shower this morning? Or maybe, I’d find some sexy kind of lingerie that she wore for Mr. Brown earlier in the week? Maybe something she got ‘naughty’ in, and it would have the smell of her sexual arousal on it? Was she kinkier than I though? Would I find a skimpy pair of thong panties, or would I just find a modest pair of briefs? Oh, the power of the imagination…

The best way I can describe my mental state at this point is this: You know how on Tom & Jerry, there were those times where Tom would be just about to hit Jerry with a hammer, and then an angel would pop up on his shoulder and tell him not to do it? And then, a devil would pop up on the other shoulder and tell him to go ahead and hit Jerry anyway? Well, it was exactly like that. On the one hand, I thought “this is just wrong…I can’t do that”. But on the other hand, I though “I wonder if Mrs. Brown threw some of her panties in there?” I thought about it. Went back and forth. What if someone caught me? What if someone walked in while I was looking through the hamper, what the hell would they think? How could I explain it? I mean, seriously, can you think of any good explanation I could have used? I sure as hell can’t, and I couldn’t back then either.

I didn’t do it. I stood up, pulled my underwear and shorts up, and…

…And then I thought about it again. I checked the door to make sure it was locked. I didn’t hear anyone outside waiting for me to finish. It’s just a hamper. With my hands sweating and my heart racing, I lifted the lid up. And do you know what I saw?

T-shirts.

Dirty T-Shirts.

Mr. Brown’s dirty t-shirts.

And underwear. Boxers. Stuffed up to the top of the hamper.

A total bust.

I quickly set the wicker lid back down, and turned around to flush the toilet. With my hand on the handle, I paused. What if…maybe….there were some panties in there, but they were buried? Should I look?

I turned back to the hamper, delicately lifted the lid up, and gave myself one last chance to stop before doing something I’d probably regret. But I said to myself “Ahhh, fuck it”, and with that I quickly began the ‘search for buried treasure’. With one hand, I held Mr. Brown’s shirts and boxers up. With the other, I blindly moved my fingers around through the pile of dirty clothing.

It felt like I was digging in there for a solid minute. In reality, it was probably only about 10 seconds, but as anyone can tell you that has been in this kind of situation, it feels like an eternity.

Then I moved something, and I saw it! Underneath a shirt or a pair of boxers or something, I caught my first glimpse. Through all the white cotton and plaid patterns in the hamper, I could see a tiny patchy of what looked like baby blue satin peeking up at me. I grabbed for it, and pulled it out…

What I held in my trembling hands at that point was exactly what I had been looking for. I didn’t even bother to see what else was in there. I just dropped the shirts and boxers back into the hamper, pushed them down a little, and stood there for a moment, in awe of my discovery. Not since my little stunt with Kelly had I felt so overcome with desire and lust. My hands were shaking…sweating…my mouth was dry and my heart was racing with excitement!

There I was, holding a pair of Mrs. Brown’s panties! Honest to goodness! Light blue…like a powder blue or baby blue. They were satin…soft…smooth. The fabric slipped from one hand to the other…dancing between my fingers as I examined them. After a few moments of enjoying the feel of the fabric in my hands, I grasped the sides of the waistband and held them out in front of me so I could see EXACTLY what they looked like. What a sight! They were a pair of briefs. I remember that the way the elastic was on the legs and waistband, it made the blue satin material “ruffle” up, but I think that when Mrs. Brown put them on, they were probably a little more form fitting and the material would smooth out over her delicious curves.

I flipped them around to look at the back. As I did, I imagined Mrs. Brown’s rear end filling them in, just like the shorts she was wearing today. I just stood there and ogled them closely for a few moments…probably just a few seconds, but it seemed longer.

There were two parts of my brain working at this point. One part was examining these beautiful panties and imagining Mrs. Brown wearing them. The other part…well, that’s the part that was trying to decide whether or not I should do what I really wanted to do. Should I….bring them closer? Even after all these years, it’s still embarrassing to type what I’m about to type. It seems so taboo and so naughty.

I ‘m not even going to say it. You know exactly what I wanted to do at this point.

So I stood there…deciding whether or not I should. I took a few deep breaths. I had just done something so naughty…pilfering through Mrs. Brown’s hamper and taking out her panties. But somehow, I could justify it. It’s just like putting someone’s laundry in the washer. All I did was pick up a pair of her panties. No big deal. Nothing illegal about that.

But I wanted to do something…else.

……..

……..


(Just so you know, I’ve been sitting here at my computer for 10 minutes deciding whether or not I should continue. I feel so completely naughty about what I was thinking. But, it doesn’t matter. I think you know exactly what was going through my mind. Remember all that stuff I said before about my nose? So I’ll just continue)

So I stood there, debating whether or not I should.

OK…this is stupid. It’s just words on a computer screen…here goes.

I can’t believe I’m going to blurt this out.

I wanted to smell Mrs. Brown’s panties!

WOW

I WANTED TO SMELL MRS. BROWN’S PANTIES!!!

I WANTED TO SMELL THEM SOOOOOO BAD!!!

(that felt good! LOL)

I couldn’t hold back any longer. It was like dangling a piece of steak in front of a tiger that hadn’t eaten in a week. I brought them closer, and without another hesitation, I plunged my face into the pile of satin fabric I was holding with my hands. I inhaled the deepest breath I could muster up, and I held it, never wanting to let that intoxicating air out of my nose….

WOW! WHAT A RUSH!!!

I remember feeling so dizzy that I had to sit back down on the toilet. This must be what someone feels like when they have heroin for the first time…just, that rush through their veins. Her aroma….it was such an aphrodesiac. The fact that I really shouldn’t have been doing this…that it was wrong…that it was naughty…that it was perverted….made the whole experience that much more erotic. I felt a tremendous, power sensation between my legs. The tingling….the muscle spasms. But I didn’t want to get carried away, so I kept my hands, trying hard not to rub myself.

I could see a picture in my head of Mrs. Brown…with her perfect large breasts, standing by the bed wearing only these panties. It was driving me nuts! The scent of her pussy…her blonde pussy, pressed against these panties for a whole day…and here I was, holding it against my face. I took one deep breath…then another….then another. Then I really started to feel dizzy. I had to stop before I passed out in their bathroom. That was the last thing I wanted. How on earth would I explain that one?

I stood up to put the panties back in the hamper. I lifted the lid and moved the boxers and shirts to the side. I took one last whiff. But I couldn’t bear to part with them….they just smelled so delicious! What if I never had a chance like this again?

I instantly decided I was going to steal them. I must have been thinking about it the whole time I was smelling them, because all my thoughts converged, and I had a plan. She would never miss one pair of panties. I loose socks and underwear in the laundry all the time. And if she noticed it was gone, there was nothing to make her suspect that it was me that snagged them. But, I couldn’t just stuff them in my pocket. I was wearing sort of tight shorts. I couldn’t go back down to the study group with a bulge like that in my pocket and play it cool….I was far too aroused and nervous.

I had a better plan. I quickly pulled my shorts down. I stepped out of them, and pulled her panties on over mine. I couldn’t believe I had concocted such a scheme to steal a stupid pair of panties! They were a little bit big on me because Mrs. Brown was a bit thick around the middle and had quite an ass, but my butt was also a pretty good size, so they stayed on ok. I pulled my shorts back up, flushed the toilet, and stood in front of the mirror for a moment.

While I tried to regain my composure, I checked around the room to make sure everything was just like I left it. The clothes were all back in the hamper (except the panties I put on), and the lid was closed.

I splashed my face with cold water, washed my hands, and dried off with the towel. I unlocked the door and walked back out through the bedroom…back out to the living room. My whole episode in the bathroom hadn’t lasted more than 5 minutes, so nobody was suspicious of anything.

For the next hour and half, I sat there staring at the practice tests. What a waste of 90 minutes. My mind couldn’t have been farther away. While everyone else was trying to make the most of this time, my thoughts were on Mrs. Brown and the panties I was wearing under my shorts. It wasn’t very comfortable to sit there wearing 2 pairs of panties, but in my mind, it couldn’t have been more worth it.

Every time she walked through the living room, my heart jumped. What if she knew? I know it wasn’t a rational thought, but I mean, I was trying to smuggle a pair of her panties out of the house, which isn’t exactly rational either.

When it was finally time to leave, I couldn’t wait! I think I was the first girl to have my books all packed up. We all thanked Mrs. Brown for her hospitality. If only she had known what I was doing…

I got a ride home with one of the other girls. As she pulled into my driveway, I jumped out of the car and ran into the house. I was so eager to get up to my room! But I bumped into my mom, so I had to talk to her for a few minutes, tell her how the study session went…verify that I had thanked Mrs. Brown for the snacks and soda.

I scurried upstairs, and closed and locked the door to my room. I IMMEDIATELY kicked my sneakers off, unzipped my shorts, and pulled them off. In my full-length mirror, I spent a second or two staring at what I looked like with those powder blue panties on. But I wasn’t interested in how I looked. I was interested in how Mrs. Brown looked in them. I was interested in how they smelled.

I slipped my thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down my legs. I didn’t bother to take mine off. I didn’t have time. As soon as her panties were off of me, I was laying on my back in bed, with the panties draped over my nose. I held them there with one hand while my other hand slipped down between my legs.

I took one deep breath after another! It was like when you try to see how long you can stay underwater, and when you finally come up for air, you take these big quick deep breaths. It was just like that. It smelled amazing! My other hand was rubbing furiously between my legs. My own panties were showing signs of my arousal…the dark wet spots. After the initial rush of Mrs. Brown’s scent, I paused for a moment to tug my panties down, and I kicked them off onto the floor.

I moved my fingers up and down the length of my slippery wet slit. I focused pressure on my clit, rubbing it, pinching it. At some point, I’m sure that I slipped my fingers inside. I usually do. But that time was just such a blur. I felt like some kind of wild perverted animal. I was furiously masturbating with one hand, and holding someone else’s dirty panties over my face with the other!

Then, I had the urge to do something I hadn’t given much though to before. As I inhaled the sensuous musky aroma of Mrs. Brown’s panties, I wanted to take my craving a step further. I opened my mouth, extended my tongue out, and barely touched the crotch of her panties with the tip of my tongue. I don’t think that first taste actually tasted like anything. I tried again…this time lightly running the top of my tongue up the crotch. Still, I didn’t really taste anything. The whole idea of it was erotic, and I kept masturbating, but I definitely remember not tasting anything.

I retracted my tongue, got it wet in my mouth, and tried a third time. This time, I ran the flat part of my tongue along the crotch. BINGO! For the first time in my life, I tasted another woman’s dirty panties! In a word, it was AMAZING! My animal urges took over, and before I knew it, I had my lips closed around the fabric, sucking on the panty crotch with my mouth!

At that moment, I remember feeling, just, absolutely filthy! At that moment, sucking the taste out of Mrs. Brown’s panties seemed like the naughtiest thing in the world to me. At that moment, I swallowed a mouthful of what I was sucking on, and it brought me to the verge of an orgasm. The taste…the smell…the way the satin felt on my lips and in my mouth…draped over the side of my face and down my cheek…I couldn’t take it any longer.

With one swift motion, I tugged the panties out of my mouth and plunged them down between my legs. During those last few seconds, I rubbed Mrs. Brown’s delicate blue satin panties on my pussy. I furiously diddled my clit through the fabric. Before I could prepare, a wave a pleasure racked my body, and I tensed up. My thighs squeezed my hand tightly between them, forcing my to press the panties even more firmly against my sex. My hand was clenched in there so tight, I couldn’t even rub my clit….only press against it.

I thrust my hips up into the air, and my back arched tensely, I held this position for 7 or 8 seconds before my body collapsed back on the bed. My body was jelly! The orgasm was so intense that another one quickly followed. With the panties still down between my legs, I clenched my thighs again. The muscle spasms within me were so intense that it took all my concentration to keep myself from moaning out loud.

When my second climax subsided, I was finally able to begin catching my breath. I was completely flushed and sweaty, and my hands were shaking like two little leaves. I remember bringing the panties back up to my nose to smell them a bit more as I came down from my high. All of this excitement because of a simple pair of panties. Was this normal? Was I the only person that had this fetish? I pondered this while I lay there.

As I mentioned before, this is a fetish that I never really seemed to outgrow. As I got older, and especially with the advent of the internet and chat rooms, I’ve come to realize that although it’s a bit odd for women to have these particular urges for panties, there are definitely other people out there that share this fetish with me.

But back then, I didn’t know any better. I was a naughty, filthy, dirty little 18 year old girl, laying on her bed, basking in the afterglow of an orgasm brought on by the taste and smell of her friend’s mom’s panties. After a few minutes, I began to wonder what I would do next. Should I keep them? Should I get rid of them? If my mom saw them, she’d know they weren’t mine. How would I explain myself?

I did end up keeping them for quite awhile, hidden in a secret spot. I used them a few more times, but eventually, due to rubbing them on my own wet pussy so many times, Mrs. Brown’s scent gradually diminished and my own juices soaked in instead. I got rid of them at some point, but not before I developed a more intense attraction to Mrs. Brown. Each time I masturbated with those panties…each time I smelled them…I became more attracted to her. I guess I’ll save that story for another time, but I will always remember that first time…that first pair…that first taste. I will always remember Mrs. Brown’s blue satin panties.