Laundry Mishap Day 1

By Jake.

Part 1…

“Shit!” I said slightly too loud. My wife replied from the other room, “What’s wrong, babe?”

“I’m out of clean underwear…”

“Let me guess. You didn’t put it in the basket?”

“I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“I take care of all the laundry, and all I ask is for you to put it in the hamper.”

“I know. I’ll go commando today, I guess.”

By midday, my commando decision was haunting me. Given my size (or lack thereof), my zipper had rubbed against my dick head all day, causing quite the irritation. This pain seemed to be making everything else pull in tight as well. The day couldn’t end quickly enough.

My wife jumped me as I walked in the door. She reached down to grab my dick through my pants when she said, “I’ve been thinking about you going commando all day.” I yelped in a less-than-manly way when she grabbed me. “What’s wrong?”

“Going commando didn’t go as I hoped. The zipper ended up scratching me in a bad way.”

“Oh, you poor thing. Well, I have no choice but to inspect and do what I can to make it feel better.” She quickly had my pants around my ankles before she noticed my current state. “I know it’s not cold in here.”

“Yea, the pain kinda made everything go high and tight.”

“I’m sorry, honey. Let’s see if I can’t make the little guy feel better.”

The comment might have bothered me if her mouth wasn’t immediately on my package. She was circling and flicking at the nub where my dick should be, but only briefly. She pulled back and said, “Babe, I can’t get to you in your current state. The hair’s too long. I mean, there’s too much hair. Would you let me trim you up? I think it would help the irritation too.”

“Uh, I guess.”

“Yay! I always wanted to see you trimmed up. I hear it makes your junk look bigger.”

So off we went to the bathroom. First, she trimmed everything down. I thought this would be the stopping point until she got out her shaving cream and razor. “Listen, I have to shave some now that we trimmed it, or I’ll get a rash on my pushy when we do it here shortly. I’ll only shave what I have to if you prefer.”

“Yes, please. Could we use my shaving cream and razors, though?”

“No, silly, you need cream and a razor for sensitive areas. Otherwise, scratches on your little button will be the least of your problems.?

She lathered me up and got started. She caressed me throughout, so I remembered the reward. This had me immensely turned on. So turned on that when she went to wipe off the excess cream on my dick, I came with a high-pitched moan due to the surprise.

“OH wow, babe. That was sudden. I didn’t realize you were even hard. Think you could show me some love while you recover?”

“Oh, yea!”

So I threw her on the bed, pulled off her clothes, and went to town. After her first orgasm, she handed me her clit vibrator. I went to use it on her, and she giggled as it tickled. “Thank you for the thought, but I want you to use that on yourself to get you ready sooner while you’re going down on me. Just turn it on low and rub against it.”

This was uncharted territory, but she seemed into this. So I went for it. It felt weird. It was turning me on, and I could feel some pre cum leaking. But it was a different kind of arousal. She asked if I was ready. I hopped up and said, “Definitely,” assuming the pre cum was accompanied by an erection, but I was at most a chubby. “Let me see if I can’t help. Lay down. We’re gonna 69 for a bit.”

After she sat on my face, she went to town, flicking and circling my nub in a way embarrassingly similar to how I lick her clothes. It was working, though. I let out a moan, and she knew what that meant.

“Oh no, I’m getting off with you this time.”

She turned around, sat down, and started grinding against my dick. “Wow, this way feels amazing with you shaved. Way better than when you put it in. I think we will keep you this way.” We both came again shortly after that and quickly fell asleep.

The following day I realized the magnitude of her trim job. I was smooth except for a small narrow landing strip above my dick. Not even a stray ball of hair. The other noticeable observation was how high and tight I was after our evening activities. My dick was internal, and my balls were so drained that they were so high my sack looked almost empty. As I opened my too drawer, I realized the following problem. Even after the discussion, I didn’t put my clothes in the hamper yesterday morning.


“What’s up, sweetie?”

“I don’t have any underwear…”

“How I caught up again yesterday?”

“I still need to put my clothes in the hamper. Let me do that right now. I guess I’m going commando again.”

“I mean, there’s another option.” My wife said with a mischievous smile.

“What’s that?”

“Were a similar enough size. Just borrow some of mine.”

“Have you lost it? I can’t wear panties. There’s no way I would fit.”

My wife said. “So, if they fit, you will wear them? I’ve got just the right style.”

As she left for her dresser without an answer from me. She returned with a handful of panties. Trying to stop this madness, I said, “Now listen. It’s just one day. My clothes are in the hamper. It will be fine.”

“Nonsense. I’m not gonna have you damage your little fella more out of pride. I want to have fun tonight; that won’t happen if your rash worsens. These are soft and stretchy, so they should feel good and contain your bits without issues. Now step into these so we can see which ones fit best.”

“Oh, come on. Would you like me to put on a fashion show? This is bad enough. Can’t I take a pair and slip them on in the bathroom?”

“You can, but if they don’t fit right, they’re just going to cause more issues. I’m trying to help. Now step into these panties so I can pull them up.”

I dropped my towel as I stepped into them. This meant they were mid-thigh before I realized they were pink. I snapped at her stomping my foot. “I’m not wearing pink panties. Do you not have more neutral options?”

My wife giggled. I realized in retrospect that instead of looking like I was putting my foot down, I just looked like I was throwing a hissy fit with panties around my thighs.

“You’re right, sweetie. I didn’t think about your style preferences. Which pair of panties is your style? These are black but have bows at the hips, these are grey but have flowers, the pink is the plainest and is cut like briefs, or these are white, but I wasn’t sure you would fit when you tucked. But now that I am up close, I don’t think you will need to tuck, and the crotch is plenty wide for your little pouch.”

I said, “I’ll take the white,” before she said anything else to make it worse.

“You bet,” she replied.

She pulled them up, and I realized they were what would be described as hipster panties. To my horror, the stretchy material wasn’t just holding me in. It was also holding me down.

“Oh my God, babe. They fit perfectly. I can’t even see a bulge; all I see through them is your cute landing strip.”

“Wow, thanks, just what I always wanted to hear.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just getting carried away by how cute you are in those. I’ll make it up to you after work. Now get your pants on and get before you’re late.”


Part 2…

So wearing panties to work made for an interesting day. First off, wearing panties kept everything compact all day. So each bathroom break, I had to push the head of my dick out enough to pee and not run down the front of me. When I text my wife about this development, she finds it hysterical and even rubs salt in the wound by saying, “That’s why us girls have to wipe each time. Don’t want little dribbles ruining our pretty undies.”

I replied, “Ha-ha.”

The other observation was my wife was right. The material was very soft. Hell, they felt incredible against my smooth skin. This left me cleaning up twice on each bathroom trip. First, to clean up the pre cum that had leaked out from the panties rubbing against me, then again at the end, so I didn’t have ‘dribbles’ in my panties. I decided not to share this after her response to .my first observation.

While I was at work, my wife was busy with her plan.

My husband sure looked good in those panties. Too bad I’m getting his boxers washed. Of course, there could be an accident. We will say his old underwear got destroyed, along with a load of towels. I’ll order some more, so it looks like I’m trying to fix it, but at least that gives me more time. I’ll order a pack of neutral panties and a pack of very bright, very loud men’s underwear. That should make the decision better to watch.

When I got home from work, my wife was ready to pounce. She dragged me into our bedroom and pushed me onto the bed. We made out with her sitting in my lap, grinding against me. I was aroused and no doubt leaking pre cum again. She started removing my shirt and kissing her way down me. When she unzipped my pants, she must have noticed my excitement. “You already wet for me, baby?” She said with a giggle. “Sit up. I want to try something new.”

“Okay, let me slip these off,” I replied.

“No, what I want to try. You should leave those on.”

“I’ll be popping or falling out of these when I’m hard,”

“Okay, so let me get you all the way aroused, and if your panties do not fully contain you, you can take them off.”

I would have protested, but she was stripping down to her very sexy underwear while we had this discussion. So I just sat up. She sat behind me and started kissing my neck and rubbing my chest. It felt great. Then I felt her teasing the hem of my panties with one hand before she places her clit vibrator on the front of the undies. I didn’t see her grab that, so the sudden vibration surprised me. I let out a high-pitched squeal far more feminine than I would have liked. The vibrator felt incredible. After a few seconds, my wife said, “You’re all aroused, and none of your little bits are poking out. Guess that means I can continue.”

Right then, she turned up the vibration triggering me to moan and start orgasm. It was a different kind of organ. There weren’t just a few big spurts but also a long, drawn-out spurt that felt more like the cum was draining out of me. She didn’t stop when my orgasm started, either. She just changed to slow circles and turned the intensity back down. After a never-ending orgasm, I finally came out of it.

“Wow, that was incredible. I think it’s your turn now.”

“No thanks, I don’t want a clit orgasm right now. Also, this wasn’t just a reward for being a good sport. I’m also trying to win some brownie points. Please don’t be mad.”

“Why would I?”

“Well, there was an accident in the washer, and your undies were ruined. I have already bought replacements, which will be here in two days. You will have to extend your panty stay for a couple of days. Since I’ve only got three more pairs, don’t worry about putting any on this evening. Go shower while I finish up dinner.”

“Couldn’t we go to the store real quick?”

“You are going commando or wearing the panties you just came in? I put the rest through the washer.”

“Why they weren’t dirty?”

“you’re right. They weren’t until you threw your dirty clothes on them this morning.”

“Damn. Okay. I’m sorry. Thank you for buying me more. I’ll go grab a shower.”

When I got in the shower, I found the gym shorts had been swapped for a pair of her sleep shorts.

“Babe, where are my shorts?”

“I swapped them out for a pair of mine. Your’s were rough and had a seem that I figured would scratch your sensitive skin. Mine are soft, and the seams are in a better spot. I don’t want your shorts scratching you up. I want to be fucked soon. Given all I’ve done for you the past 24 hours, are you seriously unwilling to wear comfy shorts made for girls one night so I can have sex soon?”

How could I argue with that? I slipped on the shorts and said, “Well, just don’t be mad at me when I’m hanging out the bottom.”

My wife cackled and replied, “Yea, right, babe. As much as you just came, there isn’t anything of yours that’s even hanging, let alone hanging out.”


To Be Continued…?


*This story has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, formatting errors, & basic grammar, but the narrative and plot have remained the same. Even with the limited editing done here, it doesn’t mean any possible major flaws in this story were fixed (That’s the author’s job). The opinions/views expressed in this story (and in any comments) are those of the author and do not represent this site. We support freedom of speech. This story was submitted directly to this website.

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