Serial · Story

The Messenger – Part One

“A rock hard erection desperately straining to be released from the restriction of a pair of flimsy panties. Preferably lacy ones, or maybe semi-transparent, but to be honest I’m not too fussed.”

Gordon Lister didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He was too stunned to even consider replying. He’d just asked Joanne Drake what he’d thought was an innocent question, and received an answer which had left him speechless, sweating and with a heart beating faster than at any time he could remember.

She grinned, her mouth parting just wide enough to expose the edges of a perfect set of pristine white teeth, leant forward and lowered her voice to a breathy whisper: “And they wouldn’t even need to be mine, just so long as they were way too small, and had the desired effect on whoever was wearing them.”

Gordon stammered nervously : “I, I, I, don’t …” Joanne Drake interrupted him, “Believe me?” and leant even closer so that he could feel her warm breath on his ear, “Ok, you got me. Of course they’d have to be mine. And the erection would need to belong to some hard-bodied young man like you, not a fat old one like my husband.”

He tried to compose himself while she continued smiling at him, and after what seemed to him like an age, finally managed an apologetic, “N, N, No, Mrs Drake, that’s not what I meant. You asked me what had got me so excited when I knocked on the door to deliver a message from your sister, and after I’d obviously bored you for ten minutes with the details of my first week working in her finance office, politely asked what would get you excited. I wasn’t expecting….” “Honesty?” she interrupted, “Or did you think I was the sort of woman who got excited by daytime TV, or ironing?”

He shook his head, “No Mrs Drake, it’s just that..” She interrupted him again, “It’s ok Gordon, I was only teasing you as  you did drone on a bit, and I’ve had a very boring day,  but you look more …. shall we say excited ….. now than you did when you got here.” She nodded downwards at the growing bulge in the trousers, and grinned even wider.

“It’s n, n, not,” he stammered, “Not the thought of … well, you know … it’s you breathing in my ear like that and you are very ..” “Attractive? Thank you Gordon. It’s nice to know that someone half my age might want to get in my pants!” She laughed and turned her back, as he desperately tried to explain what he meant, even though he didn’t know himself, and shuffled nervously in the hope that his embarrassing erection would become less obvious.

She stopped about ten feet away, turned to face him and stood with her hands on her hips, her legs perfectly straight, her feet about two feet apart, and the outside of her thighs pressing against the material of a knee-length red pencil dress. He stood and stared at the lithe, athletic silhouette of a woman who obviously spent more time in the gym than she did ironing or watching daytime TV, and even though he didn’t know why, stepped forward as if he’d been invited in.

Joanne Drake said nothing. She just stood with her hands on her hips, her shoulder length hair fluttering gently in the slight breeze coming in thru the open door behind him, and an expression on her face which Gordon thought looked like someone who knew exactly what has happening even though he didn’t .

“Why?” he asked, breaking the silence. “Why what?” replied Joanne Drake, “Why have I just embarrassed you?”

“No, not that. Well yes, that. But what I meant was, why would you get excited by a man wearing your underwear?”

Joanne Drake stepped forwards, reached over his shoulder and pushed the house door closed behind him. “There’s a couple of reasons Gordon. Firstly, I’ve read that whatever they’re made of, the material has an effect on men. A very positive one, if you get my meaning. Something about the sensation of the satin, or the silk, or the laciness, or whatever, can get a man to …um… shall we say reach his full potential? Secondly, the typical male’s ego turns me off and it’s apparently the perfect way of getting rid of it. I mean, what kind of man could be all macho when he’s wearing a pair of frilly panties?  I quite like the idea of sexual dominance, and if what I’ve read is anything to go by, well….”

She left the sentence unfinished and started a new one. “And I embarrassed you Gordon because you’ve been sent by my older sister to deliver some pointless message as a reminder that she’s an important high-flyer with attractive young men like you working for her, while I’m just a bored housewife who’s alone at home all day.”

Gordon couldn’t tell from her tone whether she was dropping some sort of hint, trying to embarrass him even more, or just complaining about being left alone because she didn’t have anyone else to talk to and so decided to try making a joke: “But I’m already wearing woman’s underwear, and just got embarrassed by what you said, not excited.”

Joanne Drake didn’t laugh. “Are you making fun of me Gordon?” she said very firmly, “My sister’s always trying to find ways to show off whatever new plaything she’s got, and as the two of us are very similar and have the same tastes, it’s very depressing. I’m lonely, frustrated, desperately in need of something to alleviate the monotony of…”

She left that sentence unfinished in the same way she had done with her description of what might happen a few moments earlier, and just like on that occasion, started to say something else. “Of course, if you did want to cheer me up, and see if there’s any truth in that article … nobody would ever need to know….”

She turned away from him again, walked towards the kitchen worktop, opened up her handbag and pulled out her cell phone. She looked down at it, pressed a few buttons, nodded as if reading a text, and held it in her hand as if to write another one. “And you wouldn’t even need to show me or anything. You could just try a few pairs on and see if it had a …. um… positive effect and tell me afterwards.”

Gordon Lister wondered for a second if she’d just read a text about him, but quickly dismissed the thought as conceited as only her sister knew he was there, and instead decided to go along with what Mrs Drake had suggested. He didn’t really know why he agreed, or exactly what he was hoping would happen afterwards  if putting on Mrs Drake’s underwear did get her as excited as she’d said it would, but somehow the words “Ok I’ll do it” came out of his mouth and in the direction of one of the most attractive forty-something women he’d ever met.

Joanne Drake told Gordon where her bedroom was, which of her drawers contained the laciest, frilliest underwear, which of her drawers contained the satin ones, where he could find the silken ones, and explained that he ought to try on as many pairs as possible so that he could be sure which ones, if any, ‘maximised his potential’.

He went upstairs as directed into a modern bedroom with fitted furniture, antique ornaments, a very large bed, two dressing tables with small standard lamps on top, and a dresser covered in ornaments and trinkets, one of which looked like some sort of mechanical toy with a flashing light on the back. He recognised it as something his mother had when he was a child, and wondered why Mrs Drake had one, but decided against touching it or turning it off.

Gordon Lister undressed, folded his suit over a chair, dropped the underwear he was wearing on the floor, and spent nearly an hour trying many different pairs of panties, admiring himself in the mirror,  watching his erection grow to an uncomfortable size when constrained and feeling relieved each time he peeled a pair down his legs and added them to a pile on the floor.

He had finally decided to get dressed when Joanne Drake strode in to the bedroom holding her phone and smiling. “Don’t take pictures!” he protested. “No need,” she said grinning, “I’ve spent the last fifty minutes filming you trying on my underwear, so you can consider that pile down there what you’ll be wearing under your nice new suit from now on. And of course, I’ll be expecting you to send me proof every day. ”

Gordon was puzzled. “How? Why?” he asked.

“How? With the camera in that baby monitor on my dresser. It works from my phone. That’s why I got it out of my bag before you came up here to check it was working. And the why? That’s the best bit. Because if you don’t, the film I’ve recorded of you dressing up in frilly panties with a big hard on will get absolutely everywhere.”

“No,” he protested, “Why do you want make me do that?”

Joanne Drake grinned as she hooked her right index finger into the waistband of the white satin panties his erection was protruding from and pulled him towards her. “Because as I told you earlier, I quite like the idea of dominating a man. And making you wear these will help remind you that just like the panties, you’re mine. ”

She gripped the panties with all four fingers and pulled them downwards to release his erection while she pushed Gordon backwards onto the bed with her left hand, and then stepped up to straddle him. “Now don’t say another word,” she said lifting her skirt to reveal that she was wearing nothing underneath, “Just fuck me. ”

She pushed him deep inside her, and then pinned his arms to the bed as she rocked, squeezed, scratched, bit, licked and writhed until her shuddering noisy orgasm finally allowed a nervous Gordon Lister to feel able to have an almost-silent release of his own.


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