The Long Game. Part 2.

I said nothing, instead staring at my feet. She sat quietly on the bed, and motioned me to sit beside her. I did so, doubtful of her good intentions, but aware that this was surely better than the beating she could so easily have resorted to.

“Now, tell me the truth. Did you do it because it feels nice?”

I continued to look at my feet, but nodded silently. I couldn’t face her.

“Well, at least we have the truth, now.”

She put her arm around my shoulders. Her body was warm and soft, and she said softly, “Michael, you’re not the first young man to put on panties. It’s ok, you know.”

I relented and spoke, “But it’s embarrassing. Boys aren’t supposed to…”

“Oh, don’t be so silly,” she said in mock admonishment. “I don’t like you taking my stuff, but I don’t really care if you want to wear girly panties.” Then she laughed and got to her feet.

She walked to her pantie draw and opened it. She then drew out a pair of very frilly panties that I could hardly believe anyone would have worn, they were so clearly meant to be looked at, rather than put on.

“Why don’t you try these on?” she said. “I like these ones. They feel wonderful.” She held them out to me and I was captivated by the silky fabric.

“I shouldn’t,” I said. “It’s wrong.”

“Go on, Michael. Just for me.” She placed them in my hand and then pulled me firmly to my feet. With a touch of menace in…