Delicious Delicates

It is my nineteenth birthday, and I am all dressed up waiting for my date to arrive. Since I have some time, I thought I'd scribble down some notes about how I got to this night.

It all started less than a year ago when I arrived back at my parents home after College got out for the summer break. Mom told me a woman had moved in next door recently, her name was Maria Johnson. She was divorced and lived there alone. My parents were very old fashioned, and did not believe in divorce, so this was quite taboo to my mom. She was courteous, but not overly friendly to our new neighbor. I didn't give her any further thought, and called my old neighborhood buddies to get a baseball game going.

I did the usual older teenager guy things, hanging out with my buds, playing sports and mountain biking. Then one morning I went outside to sit on the back deck to drink my coffee. That's when I noticed them; shiny, brazenly colored women's underwear. Pink ones, red ones, purple ones, and even a yellow pair, all very feminine, sexy, tiny... panties! They were hanging on Ms. Johnson's clothesline, lightly blowing in the breeze. I sat there staring at them, in lust with the way the sun shone off them. At the time, I didn't know what kind of material they were made of. But I knew it wasn't the familiar cotton my underwear or my mom's plain underwear were made of. I spent all my time playing sports or mountain biking, and I was quite shy, so I didn't really date much. To put it bluntly, at eighteen I had only ever gotten to first base with girls. Yes, I was a virgin. So these beautiful, delicate, intimate pieces of female clothing that were swaying in the wind; had me mesmerized. I wanted to touch them, to feel the fabric. I actually thought about climbing the fence and taking them down from the clothesline. I quickly threw that idea out of my head. I had visions of Ms. Johnson or my mom screaming pervert or something. I went riding my mountain bike, but I couldn't get the image of those panties out of my mind. I wasn't concentrating on my riding, and crashed more than usual that day. When I got home, I ran out to the backyard to get another glimpse; but they were gone. Ms. Johnson had obviously taken her laundry inside.