Sisters of Seduction
By LexiBellefire.
Isabella, my girlfriend, will tell you that im a good size. She might even say it’s perfect, but we all know what that means. At least I know what that means. When I put on her panties, it fully covers my penis and balls.
it shouldn’t…
I go to the bathroom after Isabella is done showering, cause i know there is a fresh pair of panties in the laundry basket. Worn the entire day, still smelling like her. Taking them out and giving them a good sniff makes me feel like nothing else. I get weak in the knees when doing it, and chills run down my back.
I love my girlfriend, and I wish I could share this side of me. The side that smells and wears her panties. The side of me that wants to be fucked by her while she puts her worn panties in my mouth. But what will she think…
That I’m a loser…
That I’m not a real man…
No, I can’t fuck this relationship up by some stupid fetish. So I’m keeping it a secret, and I’m sitting here in the bathroom wearing her panties and jerking off. When Isabella knocks on the door, scaring the living shit out of me.
“What are you doing? I forgot my phone in there.”
“Uhhh… Oh nothing… Just peeing,” I stumble on my words.
“Okay, can you unlock the door?” She says, confused. I think she might notice something is up.
I put on my pants over her pink panties, which are a nice pair with lace across the front. The string in the back rubbing on my asshole, every movement makes me harder. I open the door and hand her phone to her.
“You coming downstairs? I want to watch the next episode,” she says with a weird smirk on her face. We are watching a new dating show where contestants go to an island or something. I don’t really like it, but it makes her happy to watch together, so whatever.
“Yeah.. I just need to”
“COME ON! You’ve been peeing for 10 minutes. Surely every drop is out by now.”
She interrupts, this is weird. Normally, she is not this direct and dominant. But I can think of no excuse to stay here and take off her panties. I have to sit on the couch next to Isabella, wearing her pretty pink panties under my jeans. Walking downstairs, I feel the lace rubbing against the tip of my penis, making it harder and harder. By now, it is throbbing and almost starting to hurt. I don’t think any blood is going to my brain right now because I can’t think of anything but what I’m feeling.
We sit on the couch, and she puts on the next episode of the show. Man, do I not care about this now. Isa is lying next to me, head on my shoulder, and her hand on my leg.
While a fight is going on between two women on the show, Isa’s hand is starting to move on my leg.
“You know I know what you were doing in the bathroom, right?” she says without looking away from the TV.
“What?” I ask, scared, with a slight tremble in my voice.
“Come on, how naive do you think I am?”
“I uhh… I” I don’t know what to say.
“I know you were jerking off, it’s fine. Sophia told me her boyfriends did it as well.”
Sophia is Isabella’s younger sister; she is much smaller than Isabella. You almost wouldn’t say they are sisters. Isa has nice, full breasts and an ass that doesn’t fit in most jeans. Under her perfect ass are these long legs that feel like they go on forever, perfect for wrapping around my head while I go down on her. And she has the cutest face, one that tells you she would never do anything malicious in her life.
Her sister, and thus my sister-in-law, Sophia, is way smaller. And she has almost no breasts, I always tease her with this. But her ass is great, probably because she works out a lot. Her hair is way thinner than Isabella’s; it’s thin, and she painted it blond. But her face just spells mischief, and her behavior matches. Always telling her opinion right in your face, even if it ends in a fight.
We always joke that Isa got everything from their parents, the length, breasts, hips, and full hair. The only thing Sophia has is her attitude.
“How did you know?” I say relieved as I now know she doesn’t know about the panties.
“You were out of breath, had red cheeks, I saw the bulge in your pants, and your underwear was still on the ground, dumbass,” she says playfully.
“Right,” I say with a smile. This might work out after all.
“But seeing as you didn’t put your underwear back on…” her hand slowly going to my groin. FUCK FUCK FUCK, she thinks I’m wearing nothing under my jeans. She normally doesn’t initiate sex like this, but catching me jerking off must have turned her on.
“I guess not,” I say to her with a small giggle. How am I going to get out of this situation?
“And seeing as you still have a little bump in your pants, I’d say you weren’t done” teasing me. She always teases me with having a little bump, as a joke, of course, but deep down, I know she means it. She takes her head off my shoulder and looks me right in my eyes. God, does she have big, beautiful, brown eyes.
“You’re right, so I’ll go back to the bathroom to finish up!” I say it as a joke, but I hope she’ll let me.
“NO WAY! You’re staying right here, mister.” I’ve never seen her so dominant. I mean, I really like it. I’ve always wanted her to be more dominant in the bedroom, but why did she have to start doing that right now? Her hand is going up from my groin and under my sweater.
“I’m not done with you, I guess I have to remind you why I’m better than jerking off alone,” moving her head towards mine and kissing me like we did when we first started dating five years ago. Maybe even better, I haven’t felt this much passion between us. But I have to stop her; maybe I can take control. Pick her up, carry her upstairs, then quickly go to the bathroom to undress, and tell her I have a surprise or something. Or maybe I can…
But indecisiveness made me wait too long; her hand started moving down from my stomach, and her pinky finger was already in my jeans. Only a whisper away from the lacy panties that contain my erection, the soft fabric of it rubbing against my balls while I move, and the passionate kiss from the love of my life make it hard to think. Maybe I should just do nothing, maybe she’ll like it. Maybe I wanted to be caught in a way.
I feel her hand inching closer and closer to the panties, and like I got startled awake from a dream, I jump up from the couch.
“I uhhh… I’m….”
I don’t know how I can get myself out of this situation. She first looked confused when I jumped up, but that quickly turned to anger, then to sadness.
“What’s going on? Why are you acting this way? This is very unlike you,” she said. I could see a tear forming in the corner of her eye.
“I don’t…”
“You don’t like me anymore?”
“No, absolutely not, I love you.”
“But you just don’t want sex with me, you don’t think im attractive?”
“No, I’d love to have sex with you, but I just can’t, because… well…”
“Well?”
“It’s just that…”
“Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me, I’ll leave. I’m going to Sophia’s! And you better think about what kind of relationship we have if we can’t even talk it out!”
FUCK, this is what I was afraid of. Maybe just telling her is the better option; she might leave me, but she’ll also leave me if I say nothing.
“Okay, wait,” I say, my head down; making eye contact right now is too difficult. “I can just show you.”
“Okay…” she says in a hesitant voice.
I slowly unbuckle my pants while looking at the floor. I just can’t look at her, I can’t even look at myself. I drop my jeans to the floor, revealing her pink lacey string. Now with a wet spot in it from where my cock was dripping while making out with her. The fight made my erection go away, making it so the panties cover my little guy even better. There I am, in the middle of the living room, with my pants on my ankles, wearing my girlfriend’s panties.
It’s quiet; she has not said anything. I don’t know how long it’s been, but it feels like forever. When I finally dare to look up, I see Isabella with the biggest smirk on her face I have ever seen.
“Are those my panties, you dumbass?”
Isabella’s smirk lingered as she crossed her arms, her eyes scanning me up and down. I could feel her looking at me, a mix of curiosity and amusement that made me feel uneasy. Her pink lace panties were still the only thing I was wearing, a stark reminder of how exposed I was both physically and emotionally. I felt the blood rushing to my face, blushing so hard that I could feel the warmth radiating from my cheeks. But the secret was finally out there, and all I could do now was wait for her reaction.
“So, you’ve been stealing my panties, huh?” she finally said, her tone a mix of amusement and curiosity. I stood frozen, my face burning with embarrassment. I tried to say something, but no words could come out of my mouth. Instead, I just nodded my head. “Well,” she continued, tilting her head, “if you’re going to wear them, we might as well do it right.”
Her words surprised me. “What do you mean?” I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper. “You’re not… mad?”
Isabella let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I thought you were cheating or something, but you’re just a dumbass. I already knew that.” Her playful chuckle warmed my heart, and the tension that made it hard to breathe left the room. Thoughts rushed through my head–does she like it, or is she still disgusted by me? She’s not mad, but that doesn’t mean she likes it.
“It’s not my cup of tea,” she admitted, her voice soft, “but if it makes you happy, I can play along.” She stepped closer, placing her hand on my stomach and slowly moving it down, hooking her fingers behind the lace waistband. Pulling it a bit and letting it snap back, the blood that had been in my cheeks rushed south. I could feel my cock throbbing, straining against the lace fabric.
“I mean, it’s kind of cute in a weird way. I’ve always known you were a bit more feminine than most guys–that’s what I like about you. And I’d rather have this than some other secrets you could’ve been hiding.”
Her words were a relief, but they also sparked a new kind of nervousness. She was willing to try it, but only to please me. What does that mean? How far is she willing to go? But before I could overthink it, Isabella pulled off her sweater and tossed it to the ground. Without hesitation, she reached behind her back, unclasped her black push-up bra, and in a smooth motion took it off, revealing her perfect breasts. The sight left me breathless, my thoughts scattering as she stood there. She threw the bra at me.
“Put it on and meet me upstairs.”
She turned around and walked through the door. I looked at her heart-shaped ass, which was perfectly contained in her jeans, as she marched upstairs. With difficulty, I put on her bra; by now, the top of my penis peeked out of the panties, as if it was just as excited as I was. Before I could mess it up, I followed her upstairs.
Isabella walked over to her dresser, still teasing me by swaying her hips. She bent over next to her closet, her ass up and back arched, as she pulled open the bottom drawer inside a pile of panties, thongs, bras, fishnets, and other lingerie. My heart raced as she started rummaging through them, pulling out pieces and holding them up like she was shopping for herself.
“Let’s see… what do we have here?” she said, her voice playful. She held up a pair of red satin panties, dangling them from her finger. “How about these? Think they’ll fit you?”
I nodded, my face burning as I reached for them. She tossed them to me, and I fumbled to catch them, my hands trembling.
“Go on, put them on,” she said as she turned around and sat on the floor, still topless. I hesitated for a moment, then pulled down the pink lace panties I stole from the laundry and stepped into the fresh pair of panties. The satin felt smooth against my skin, and I couldn’t help but notice how tight they were, hugging me in all the right places.
Isabella tilted her head, studying me. “Not bad,” she said with a smirk. “But I think we can do better. They don’t really match your bra.” She gestured toward the bra I was wearing, which was way too big, the cups sagging awkwardly and the straps slipping off my shoulders. “You look like you’re playing dress-up in your mom’s closet,” she teased.
She turned back to the drawer, looking through the piles of lingerie. “Let’s find something that actually fits you,” she said, pulling out a delicate black lace bralette. “This might work better.” She held it up, “It’s smaller, more your size. Sophia left it here once, and luckily for you, she’s about your size.”
I hesitated, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement as I reached for it. Isabella’s smirk softened into something warmer, almost encouraging. “Go on,” she said, her voice softer now. “Let’s see how it looks.”
As I fumbled with the straps, trying to figure out how to put it on, Isabella stepped closer. “Here, let me help,” she said, her fingers brushing against mine as she took the bralette from me. Her touch sent a shiver through me, and I stood still as she adjusted the straps and hooked them into place. Her hands lingered for a moment, smoothing the fabric over my chest, and I could feel my face heating up again.
“There,” she said, stepping back to admire. “Much better. You actually look… kind of sexy.” Her words surprised me, and I could see a faint blush creeping up her own cheeks. She cleared her throat, trying to play it cool, but the way her eyes lingered on me told a different story.
“So,” she said, her voice a little breathless, “what do you think? Feel good?”
I nodded, unable to find the words. The bralette fit snugly, the lace soft against my skin, and I could feel myself getting harder under her gaze. Isabella noticed, her eyes flicking down for a moment before meeting mine again. “You really like this, don’t you?” she said, her tone a mix of amusement and something else… something warmer, more intimate.
“But now your panties still don’t match,” she quickly continued, “let’s see what we can do about that.” She dug back into the drawer and pulled out a black lace thong, holding it up with a mischievous grin. “What about this one? Think you can handle it?”
I swallowed hard, nodding again. She tossed it to me, and I stepped into it, pulling the thin strip of lace up over my hips. The fabric was delicate, almost too delicate, and I could feel every movement as it pressed against me. Isabella’s eyes lingered on me, and I could see the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks. “You know,” she said, her voice softer now, “I never would’ve guessed you were into this. But… It’s kind of hot.”
My cock was throbbing as the thing strip of the thong brushed teasingly against my asshole with every movement. Isabella noticed I was getting harder, her eyes looking down for a moment again before meeting back with mine. “So,” she said, stepping closer, “how often do you do this? Sneak into my panties, I mean.”
I hesitated, my voice barely above a whisper. “A few times a week… maybe more.”
She raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning. “And what do you think about when you’re wearing them? What’s going on in that dumb head of yours?”
I felt my face flush even more, but there was no point hiding it now. “I… I think about you,” I admitted. “About how they smell like you, how they feel like you. Sometimes I imagine you catching me, like you did today. Or… or other things.”
“Other things?” she repeated, her voice teasing. “Like what?”
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding. “Like… you putting them on me yourself. Or… or using them to tease me. Maybe… us having sex while wearing them.”
Isabella’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I thought I’d gone too far. But then she laughed, a soft, breathy sound that made my stomach flip. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot, huh?” she said, stepping even closer. Her hand brushed against my chest, and I could feel the warmth of her touch through the bralette. “I have to admit… It’s kind of turning me on.”
Her words hit me like a shockwave, and I could see the effect they had on her, too. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was a little quicker than before. I could see the arousal firming up her nipples. She unbuckled her pants and took them off, throwing them in the corner of the room. Then, without breaking eye contact, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs, stepping out of them with a deliberate slowness. She held them up, the fabric damp and glistening, and pressed them to my face.
“You like the way they smell, don’t you?” she whispered, her voice low and husky. I inhaled deeply, her scent filling my senses, and I felt my knees go weak.
“Is this what you always fantasized about?” she whispered in my ear. She took the panties out of my face–eagerly waiting for my answer.
“you are”
And before I could stop myself, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into a kiss, our lips crashing together with a hunger I hadn’t felt in years. Isabella moaned softly into my mouth, her hands wrapped around my head as I backed her toward the bed.
With a playful yet commanding push, I threw her onto the mattress, climbing over her as we both surrendered to the heat of the moment. The lace thong was still clinging to me, but that made it even better when Isabella’s legs wrapped around me, pulling me closer.
*****
Isabella’s smirk lingered as she crossed her arms, her eyes scanning me up and down. I could feel her looking at me, a mix of curiosity and amusement that made me feel uneasy. Her pink lace panties were still the only thing I was wearing, a stark reminder of how exposed I was both physically and emotionally. I felt the blood rushing to my face, blushing so hard that I could feel the warmth radiating from my cheeks. But the secret was finally out there, and all I could do now was wait for her reaction.
“So, you’ve been stealing my panties, huh?” she finally said, her tone a mix of amusement and curiosity. I stood frozen, my face burning with embarrassment. I tried to say something, but no words could come out of my mouth. Instead, I just nodded my head. “Well,” she continued, tilting her head, “if you’re going to wear them, we might as well do it right.”
Her words surprised me. “What do you mean?” I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper. “You’re not… mad?”
Isabella let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I thought you were cheating or something, but you’re just a dumbass. I already knew that.” Her playful chuckle warmed my heart, and the tension that made it hard to breathe left the room. Thoughts rushed through my head–does she like it, or is she still disgusted by me? She’s not mad, but that doesn’t mean she likes it.
“It’s not my cup of tea,” she admitted, her voice soft, “but if it makes you happy, I can play along.” She stepped closer, placing her hand on my stomach and slowly moving it down, hooking her fingers behind the lace waistband. Pulling it a bit and letting it snap back, the blood that had been in my cheeks rushed south. I could feel my cock throbbing, straining against the lace fabric.
“I mean, it’s kind of cute in a weird way. I’ve always known you were a bit more feminine than most guys–that’s what I like about you. And I’d rather have this than some other secrets you could’ve been hiding.”
Her words were a relief, but they also sparked a new kind of nervousness. She was willing to try it, but only to please me. What does that mean? How far is she willing to go? But before I could overthink it, Isabella pulled off her sweater and tossed it to the ground. Without hesitation, she reached behind her back, unclasped her black push-up bra, and in a smooth motion took it off, revealing her perfect breasts. The sight left me breathless, my thoughts scattering as she stood there. She threw the bra at me.
“Put it on and meet me upstairs.”
She turned around and walked through the door. I looked at her heart-shaped ass, which was perfectly contained in her jeans, as she marched upstairs. With difficulty, I put on her bra; by now, the top of my penis peeked out of the panties, as if it was just as excited as I was. Before I could mess it up, I followed her upstairs.
Isabella walked over to her dresser, still teasing me by swaying her hips. She bent over next to her closet, her ass up and back arched, as she pulled open the bottom drawer inside a pile of panties, thongs, bras, fishnets, and other lingerie. My heart raced as she started rummaging through them, pulling out pieces and holding them up like she was shopping for herself.
“Let’s see… what do we have here?” she said, her voice playful. She held up a pair of red satin panties, dangling them from her finger. “How about these? Think they’ll fit you?”
I nodded, my face burning as I reached for them. She tossed them to me, and I fumbled to catch them, my hands trembling.
“Go on, put them on,” she said as she turned around and sat on the floor, still topless. I hesitated for a moment, then pulled down the pink lace panties I stole from the laundry and stepped into the fresh pair of panties. The satin felt smooth against my skin, and I couldn’t help but notice how tight they were, hugging me in all the right places.
Isabella tilted her head, studying me. “Not bad,” she said with a smirk. “But I think we can do better. They don’t really match your bra.” She gestured toward the bra I was wearing, which was way too big, the cups sagging awkwardly and the straps slipping off my shoulders. “You look like you’re playing dress-up in your mom’s closet,” she teased.
She turned back to the drawer, looking through the piles of lingerie. “Let’s find something that actually fits you,” she said, pulling out a delicate black lace bralette. “This might work better.” She held it up, “It’s smaller, more your size. Sophia left it here once, and luckily for you, she’s about your size.”
I hesitated, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement as I reached for it. Isabella’s smirk softened into something warmer, almost encouraging. “Go on,” she said, her voice softer now. “Let’s see how it looks.”
As I fumbled with the straps, trying to figure out how to put it on, Isabella stepped closer. “Here, let me help,” she said, her fingers brushing against mine as she took the bralette from me. Her touch sent a shiver through me, and I stood still as she adjusted the straps and hooked them into place. Her hands lingered for a moment, smoothing the fabric over my chest, and I could feel my face heating up again.
“There,” she said, stepping back to admire. “Much better. You actually look… kind of sexy.” Her words surprised me, and I could see a faint blush creeping up her own cheeks. She cleared her throat, trying to play it cool, but the way her eyes lingered on me told a different story.
“So,” she said, her voice a little breathless, “what do you think? Feel good?”
I nodded, unable to find the words. The bralette fit snugly, the lace soft against my skin, and I could feel myself getting harder under her gaze. Isabella noticed, her eyes flicking down for a moment before meeting mine again. “You really like this, don’t you?” she said, her tone a mix of amusement and something else… something warmer, more intimate.
“But now your panties still don’t match,” she quickly continued, “let’s see what we can do about that.” She dug back into the drawer and pulled out a black lace thong, holding it up with a mischievous grin. “What about this one? Think you can handle it?”
I swallowed hard, nodding again. She tossed it to me, and I stepped into it, pulling the thin strip of lace up over my hips. The fabric was delicate, almost too delicate, and I could feel every movement as it pressed against me. Isabella’s eyes lingered on me, and I could see the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks. “You know,” she said, her voice softer now, “I never would’ve guessed you were into this. But… It’s kind of hot.”
My cock was throbbing as the thing strip of the thong brushed teasingly against my asshole with every movement. Isabella noticed I was getting harder, her eyes looking down for a moment again before meeting back with mine. “So,” she said, stepping closer, “how often do you do this? Sneak into my panties, I mean.”
I hesitated, my voice barely above a whisper. “A few times a week… maybe more.”
She raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning. “And what do you think about when you’re wearing them? What’s going on in that dumb head of yours?”
I felt my face flush even more, but there was no point hiding it now. “I… I think about you,” I admitted. “About how they smell like you, how they feel like you. Sometimes I imagine you catching me, like you did today. Or… or other things.”
“Other things?” she repeated, her voice teasing. “Like what?”
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding. “Like… you putting them on me yourself. Or… or using them to tease me. Maybe… us having sex while wearing them.”
Isabella’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I thought I’d gone too far. But then she laughed, a soft, breathy sound that made my stomach flip. “You’ve been thinking about this a lot, huh?” she said, stepping even closer. Her hand brushed against my chest, and I could feel the warmth of her touch through the bralette. “I have to admit… It’s kind of turning me on.”
Her words hit me like a shockwave, and I could see the effect they had on her, too. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was a little quicker than before. I could see the arousal firming up her nipples. She unbuckled her pants and took them off, throwing them in the corner of the room. Then, without breaking eye contact, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs, stepping out of them with a deliberate slowness. She held them up, the fabric damp and glistening, and pressed them to my face.
“You like the way they smell, don’t you?” she whispered, her voice low and husky. I inhaled deeply, her scent filling my senses, and I felt my knees go weak.
“Is this what you always fantasized about?” she whispered in my ear. She took the panties out of my face–eagerly waiting for my answer.
“you are”
And before I could stop myself, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into a kiss, our lips crashing together with a hunger I hadn’t felt in years. Isabella moaned softly into my mouth, her hands wrapped around my head as I backed her toward the bed.
With a playful yet commanding push, I threw her onto the mattress, climbing over her as we both surrendered to the heat of the moment. The lace thong was still clinging to me, but that made it even better when Isabella’s legs wrapped around me, pulling me closer.
To Be Continued…?
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