The whole evening had been a sexual windup. I had returned from working abroad and hooked up with Emily who I hadn’t seen for a while, in anticipation of a night of hot horny sex. I had even brought her a promised present from Victoria’s Secret at the airport. I hoped that I had chosen well.

These were a sweet pale yellow with fine lace trim, not a thong, but cut briefly at the back so they would ride up her bottom and frame her lovely curves. I knew she would love them, and I couldn’t wait to see what she looked like wearing nothing else. Past visions of her in all her finery passed through my horny mind. The various matching outfits she had bought, not just to please me but for her own enjoyment as much as anything.

Of course she looked stunning. As we took our seats in the restaurant I could see the spark was still there.

“Guess what, I’m not wearing any knickers,” she giggled.

This could only mean one thing, or so I thought.

“Just as well I bought you some.” I handed her the cute little bag with the bow and the magic logo. Her eyes lit up.

“I might just have to go to the ladies and put these on then.”

I could only imagine how hot she must look, pulling them up over bottom, the sliding fit of silk and lace snug over her cunt. The pale yellow chiming perfectly with her skin. I could hardly wait to unwrap her.

I could scarcely detect the outline of them as she returned to her seat with that smile | knew so well, they must have slipped right up her sweet cunt. Exactly where I hoped to tongue her randy little clit through them. (I knew that she was super sensitive there and preferred the silky or lacy friction).

At dinner after the perfectly served courses and a very pleasant bottle of white wine, the conversation turned to what would come next. She anticipated me. Leaning forward, Emily murmured, but probably loud enough for the two girls at the next table to hear;

“I know you're dying to fuck me senseless, and these lovely new knickers you bought me are really making me feel super horny, but I’m afraid I can’t tonight. My daughter will be at home and I would make a lot of noise!” She smiled sweetly.

“Next time, when I bring a change of clothes for work, I can stay at yours.”

I looked crestfallen. She knew I had really been looking forward to fucking her so she took pity on me.

“You better keep these in the meantime.”

With that, Emily reached under the table and slid her already damp panties off and into my hand.

“I was thinking we were going to make use of them tonight?” I protested, feeling the warm and wet scrap of material in my hand.

“Actually you are. Think of me, darling.”

That was it. I saw her to a cab. Kissed her willing, open mouth goodbye, squeezed her now naked arse through her skirt, and she was gone. Leaving me to ponder what might have been, with a raging hard on. Her screwed up panties were like a sweet ache in my pocket.

When I got back to my flat, I undressed, took a shower, and lay on my newly made bed which I had prepared for her. I was still hard and couldn't resist laying her soft panties over my aching cock. They were still damp from being up inside her, I inhaled her familiar sexy scent. I imagined how they would look as they disappearing between her arse cheeks, the silky material caressing her cunt. It was all too much. I wrapped them around my cock and began wanking into them.

I wanted more. Dare I put them on? They were delicate and I didn’t want to rip them but on the other hand I could always buy her another pair, what the hell.

The sensation as I drew them up my naked thighs and over my straining cock was unbelievable. They were far too small to contain it and my swollen aching cock-head stood proud of the skimpy lace. The silky yellow material outlined my erection so temptingly. If she could see me now, she’d probably do something about it.

I wondered if it would turn her on, me laying here wanking over the memory of her, about to spunk all over her new panties. She would let her deft fingers trail over my crotch and behind my swollen balls.

That thought sent me over the edge. As I reached down and caressed myself between my legs, wanking hard, I erupted in spurt after spurt of hot spunk, drenching her knickers and splashing over my chest. My frustration streaming out through the silky fabric of her discarded panties, now ruined and sliding sweetly over my bottom.

Well if they did that for me, imagine the effect they would have on her? Should I return them to her next time we meet or keep them for my own personal use?