Panty Removal Quotes

He bent over the back of sofa inside my apartment and removed my panties. With his Teeth. With his mother-loving teeth! I can't even! Romance novels, schmomance novels, here's how Wallbanger does it

She left her heels here. God, of all the things she could have left—earrings, boogered-up tissue paper, soiled panties, a toothbrush—she leaves her damn heels—O cruel fate!—the same ones she wore the night I first took her to bed—looked real good in them, too. She wanted them off at first, but I wouldn’t let her, I said, “If you remove those heels, I’ll fuck them instead of you.

Nine-thirty. I throw on my bathrobe. With soap in one hand, and potty, hairpins, panties, curlers and a wad of cotton in the other, I hurry out of the bathroom. The next in line invariably calls me back to remove the gracefully curved but unsightly hairs that I’ve left in the sink. Ten o’clock. Time

he released my lips and removed his hand from my panties. “Wha—oh.” He tugged them off and tossed them to the floor somewhere, then his mouth was on me. Right there. Holy crap. I tried to close my legs and squirm away, but he held my thighs open. It was so foreign. But so good. My eyes rolled back, my hips bucking off the bed to meet his roaming tongue. Despite never having done this before, he seemed to know enough, which I chose to be thankful for and ignored the urge to stalk his web history for porn sites.

Or are you just looking for some Cliff-Note summary so you can incorporate the impression of depth into some new panty-removal campaign?

A chastity device won't put out the flames of burning flesh. The Ultimate Guide to Chastity Removing the Iron Panties

Before she could question him further, she was swung over his shoulder and tossed onto her bed. Will kicked the door shut and removed his boots and shirt, revealing his toned body. "I need a distraction. I think I'm going crazy," he confessed as he finished undressing and joined her on the bed. "Help me forget, Em." He grabbed her ankles and pulled her down until she was flat on her back. Luckily for him, she was in a thin nightgown and silk panties. Hot hands trailed up her thighs and removed her underwear. She shivered despite the heat. She'd never seen him like this, broken and desperate.

He chuckled against my neck, the puffs of air stirring my hair. Out of nowhere he flipped my body around, sank to his knees, and yanked down my panties. They were stuck at the ankles where I had neglected to remove my heels. As I locked eyes with his, he opened me with his thumbs, flattened his tongue, and went to town on my clit.

It is important to understand that an enormous amount of our human experience is really a response to symbols. I speak in Origins of the Sexual Impulse of an underwear fetichist who stopped the car when he was driving with his wife, went into a garden, and removed a brassiere and panties from a clothesline; he laid these on the ground, and proceeded to go through the motions of copulation with them. Response to the symbol of ‘forbidden-ness’—another woman’s underwear—was obviously stronger than his response to the actuality of his wife beside him in the car. This is the peculiarity of human beings: that a symbol can gain a hold on the imagination and cause a more powerful response than the actuality that it represents. Control

Introduction to Jane. - Jane removed the last of the unfamiliar, silk bra-cup pads and panty liners from within the clothes she was unpacking and placed them in her top lingerie drawer. Her discovery of their illicit presence was a bombshell with which her disbelief was still struggling. The shock was enough for her to call the office, cancel her appointments and tell the studio she would be off all day.

Everybody stand back," Pat bellowed in a voice definitely more manly than girly. The Vamps flew around and squealed like girls. "It's gonna get stinky." "Oh my hell," Dima sputtered as she pulled me back toward the house. "Are they going to kill my father with anal acoustics?" "Very nice," I said as I pitched a throwing star at some incoming bad guys, removing a head and making the others duck for cover. "I'm impressed. I will accept that gross pun and raise you a booty belch, anal salute, cheek squeak and sphincter siren." "I'm going to be ill, but I will counter your offer with a butt bazooka, a crack splitter, Horton hears a poo, and a nice bout of rectal turbulence," she shot back as she beheaded something flying low over her head. Thankfully it wasn't a Vamp. "Can I play?" Hank asked. "Of course," I told him. "Panty burp, roar from the rear, air tulip, and ass ripper," he added proudly. "I will marry you," I said with a grin. "Your disgusting mind matches my own. And you deserve my friendship,

She began peeling off her pants. Whatever Arthur's concerns, she was safe and in one piece. One very sexy, beautiful piece. Heat flared through the bond and she sucked in a breath. "Planning on taking a shower?" I approached slowly, my face revealing every intimate thought on my mind. "I---yes." Her exhaustion was lifting, replaced with a knowing smile. "Is that a problem?" "Not at all." I closed the distance between us, removing my shirt. "In fact, I might just need a shower myself." "Do you want to go first?" she teased. "I'm in no hurry." "No, no, I won't delay your shower." I wrapped my arms around her, unfastening her bra. "Why don't we take one together?" A playful smile crossed her lips. "I don't know, that seems terribly inefficient." "Nonsense." I helped her remove her bra and then slipped the panties down her legs. "I will show you just how efficient I can be." She moved a hand to my chest, catching her lower lip with her teeth. "Well, you can't shower in your suit." She leaned up to kiss me, her fingers working on my buttons as I laughed against her mouth. "Eager?" "Shut up." I scooped her off her feet as her laughter carried through to the bathroom, where I planned to assist her in a very slow and inefficient shower.

Blood pressure check!” The doorknob rattled, as if the nurse were intending just to walk in, but the lock held, thank God. The nurse knocked again. “Oh, shit,” Gina breathed, laughing as she scrambled off of him. She reached to remove the condom they’d just used, encountered . . . him, and met his eyes. But then she scooped her clothes off the floor and ran into the bathroom. “Mr. Bhagat?” The nurse knocked on the door again. Even louder this time. “Are you all right?” Oh, shit, indeed. “Come in,” Max called as he pulled up the blanket and leaned on the button that put his bed back up into a sitting position. The same control device had a “call nurse” button as well as the clearly marked one that would unlock the door. “It’s locked,” the nurse called back, as well he knew. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, as he wiped off his face with the edge of the sheet. Sweat much in bed, all alone, Mr. Bhagat? “I must’ve . . . Here, let me figure out how to . . .” He took an extra second to smooth his hair, his pajama top, and then, praying that the nurse had a cold and couldn’t smell the scent of sex that lingered in the air, he hit the release. “Please don’t lock your door during the day,” the woman scolded him as she came into the room, around to the side of his bed. It was Debra Forsythe, a woman around his age, whom Max had met briefly at his check-in. She had been on her way home to deal with some crisis with her kids, and hadn’t been happy then, either. “And not at night either,” she added, “until you’ve been here a few days.” “Sorry.” He gave her an apologetic smile, hanging on to it as the woman gazed at him through narrowed eyes. She didn’t say anything, she just wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm, and pumped it a little too full of air—ow—as Gina opened the bathroom door. “Did I hear someone at the door?” she asked brightly. “Oh, hi. Debbie, right?” “Debra.” She glanced at Gina, and then back, her disgust for Max apparent in the tightness of her lips. But then she focused on the gauge, stethoscope to his arm. Gina came out into the room, crossing around behind the nurse, making a face at him that meant . . .? Max sent her a questioning look, and she flashed him. She just lifted her skirt and gave him a quick but total eyeful. Which meant . . . Ah, Christ. The nurse turned to glare at Gina, who quickly straightened up from searching the floor. What was it with him and missing underwear? Gina smiled sweetly. “His blood pressure should be nice and low. He’s very relaxed—he just had a massage.” “You know, I didn’t peg you for a troublemaker when you checked in yesterday,” Debra said to Max, as she wrote his numbers on the chart. Gina was back to scanning the floor, but again, she straightened up innocently when the nurse turned toward her. “I think you’re probably looking for this.” Debra leaned over and . . . Gina’s panties dangled off the edge of her pen. They’d been on the floor, right at the woman’s sensibly clad feet. “Oops,” Gina said. Max could tell that she was mortified, but only because he knew her so well. She forced an even sunnier smile, and attempted to explain. “It was just . . . he was in the hospital for so long and . . .” “And men have needs,” Debra droned, clearly unmoved. “Believe me, I’ve heard it all before.” “No, actually,” Gina said, still trying to turn this into something they could all laugh about, “I have needs.” But it was obvious that this nurse hadn’t laughed since 1985. “Then maybe you should find someone your own age to play with. A professional hockey player just arrived. He’s in the east wing. Second floor.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Lots of money. Just your type, I’m sure.” “Excuse me?” Gina wasn’t going to let one go past. She may not have been wearing any panties, but her Long Island attitude now waved around her like a superhero’s cape. She even assumed the battle position, hands on her hips.

He picked her up, took her into the bedroom, and placed her on the bed. Wow---it was like a floating cloud. Ramón reclaimed her lips before his mouth left hers to blaze a path down her body. Heat pooled in her belly as he made his descent. He leaned in to lavish attention on her right nipple, licking around in circle before sucking on it, and then her left. Julieta moaned as he worked his magic. Her buds hardened against the softness of his tongue. She came alive under his mouth, writhing beneath. This entire night seemed like such a fantasy, and it was only going to get better. His hand caressed her body, and he cupped her ass. She ran her hands through his thick black hair as he guided his mouth down to her panties. Julieta's core throbbed for him. The sight of his wide shoulders and strong back was almost enough to put her over the edge. She couldn't wait to ravage him---kiss down his chest, pleasure him, but Ramón was in control, and he was focused only on her. He kissed her belly and settled in between her legs. His lips pressed against her black lace panties, the heat of his mouth igniting her fire. He planted more kisses on her, focusing now on her thighs. Julieta was out of her mind with lust. "Stop teasing me." She wanted Ramón's mouth on her, and she wanted it now. She began to remove her panties, but Ramón quickly got the hint and took them off. He looked up at her, and a devilish grin graced his face. "Tell me what you want, babe." "Cómeme." "My pleasure." He began to lick her, starting with her thighs, before lapping in between her lips. Slow and sweet, deep and dirty, Julieta wanted all of him. Ramón's tongue pressed against her clit, and she gasped, a flash of pleasure overtaking her. "Ah, Ramón." "You taste so sweet." He hummed against her, and she ran her fingers through his hair, holding him as his tongue worked its magic. She cried out, desperate for release. Julieta wanted this moment---not just the intimacy, but the night---to last forever. Ramón was every fantasy she had ever had wrapped up into one---strong, sexy, sweet, and oh so skilled. His deep voice, his capable hands, his delicious mouth. Perfection. She completely surrendered to him. "Ramón." She couldn't hold back any longer, as he edged her over the top. One final lick and a wave of ecstasy crashed through her followed by shivers of joy radiating through her entire body.

When we arrived at the wedding at Marlboro Man’s grandparents’ house, I gasped. People were absolutely everywhere: scurrying and mingling and sipping champagne and laughing on the lawn. Marlboro Man’s mother was the first person I saw. She was an elegant, statuesque vision in her brown linen dress, and she immediately greeted and welcomed me. “What a pretty suit,” she said as she gave me a warm hug. Score. Success. I felt better about life. After the ceremony, I’d meet Cousin T., Cousin H., Cousin K., Cousin D., and more aunts, uncles, and acquaintances than I ever could have counted. Each family member was more gracious and welcoming than the one before, and it didn’t take long before I felt right at home. This was going well. This was going really, really well. It was hot, though, and humid, and suddenly my lightweight wool suit didn’t feel so lightweight anymore. I was deep in conversation with a group of ladies--smiling and laughing and making small talk--when a trickle of perspiration made its way slowly down my back. I tried to ignore it, tried to will the tiny stream of perspiration away, but one trickle soon turned into two, and two turned into four. Concerned, I casually excused myself from the conversation and disappeared into the air-conditioned house. I needed to cool off. I found an upstairs bathroom away from the party, and under normal circumstances I would have taken time to admire its charming vintage pedestal sinks and pink hexagonal tile. But the sweat profusely dripping from all pores of my body was too distracting. Soon, I feared, my jacket would be drenched. Seeing no other option, I unbuttoned my jacket and removed it, hanging it on the hook on the back of the bathroom door as I frantically looked around the bathroom for an absorbent towel. None existed. I found the air vent on the ceiling, and stood on the toilet to allow the air-conditioning to blast cool air on my face. Come on, Ree, get a grip, I told myself. Something was going on…this was more than simply a reaction to the August humidity. I was having some kind of nervous psycho sweat attack--think Albert Brooks in Broadcast News--and I was being held captive by my perspiration in the upstairs bathroom of Marlboro Man’s grandmother’s house in the middle of his cousin’s wedding reception. I felt the waistband of my skirt stick to my skin. Oh, God…I was in trouble. Desperate, I stripped off my skirt and the stifling control-top panty hose I’d made the mistake of wearing; they peeled off my legs like a soggy banana skin. And there I stood, naked and clammy, my auburn bangs becoming more waterlogged by the minute. So this is it, I thought. This is hell. I was in the throes of a case of diaphoresis the likes of which I’d never known. And it had to be on the night of my grand entrance into Marlboro Man’s family. Of course, it just had to be. I looked in the mirror, shaking my head as anxiety continued to seep from my pores, taking my makeup and perfumed body cream along with it. Suddenly, I heard the knock at the bathroom door. “Yes? Just a minute…yes?” I scrambled and grabbed my wet control tops. “Hey, you…are you all right in there?” God help me. It was Marlboro Man.

Truth or dare,” I ask, my voice edgy with anticipation and yearning. I know he’ll answer dare – and it will be the last one I give him. “Dare.” “Fuck me,” I beg. He immediately rolls over, gently resting his body on top of mine. I spread my legs, positioning his trim waist and hips in between my thighs. The hard outline of his cock grazes the front of my panties, sending my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He slides his hands under the covers. His fingers sneak under the waistband of my panties. He sits up to slowly glide them down my legs, revealing body in the moonlight. He tosses them, dripping wet, by the side of the bed and the then slides off his tight briefs. His erect cock stands at attention once removed from its fabric confines, pulsing up and down in rhythm with Cole’s racing heartbeat. With the covers now cast to the side, Cole leans over me, devouring my lips. My lips open and I yield him my tongue, which he handles adroitly, flicking it with his own and sucking it with his lips. He leans over to the side of the bed and bends down, picking up his shorts. The movement of his body over mine sends the peaks of his deeply sculpted abs gliding across my soft skin, generating a shiver that trembles through my body. He pulls out his wallet from his shorts pocket and extracts a condom. He kneels on the bed and works the condom down the expansive length of his solid shaft. He imposes his body back over mine, covering me with his huge torso. The length of his cock rests against my warm pussy, throbbing against it. I wrap my legs around his waist and lock my ankles together, pulling him closer toward me. His rough, masculine scent fills my nostrils. He kisses my neck, the light stubble on the side of his check rubbing against my skin. I buck my hips toward him, pressing his cock against me. The bottom of his shaft rests on my warm opening, the tip extends up to my belly button. A delicious anxiousness overtakes me. Will I really be able to fit all of him inside me? “Fuck, Emma, you’re so sexy,” he moans while raking his lips and tongue up and down my neck. He nibbles lightly on my earlobe, his hot, staggered breath brushing against the side of my face. “I want you inside me,” I pant to him. He lifts his hips up and steadies his cock at the precipice of my slick center. He looks me in the eye, and I nod, imploring him to plunge inside me. He does. I shut my eyes as a brief wave of pain washes over me, the shock of accommodating his massive size inside. It soon subsides and my body comfortably accustomed itself to his presence. He slowly pumps in and out of me. I bite down on my bottom lip, waves of pleasure erupting from my center and traversing every inch of my body. My stomach is in knots and my breath is quick and sharp. Every time he lifts his hips to thrust out, my wet cavern craves for him to come back – and he immediately does, pushing himself back in, the length of his shaft rubbing against my insides, the friction driving me wild with ecstasy. I lose track of time as he continues to thrust in and out. I buck my hips against him, hungry for his full length. I tighten my grip with my legs around his waist, greedy for his body to press against mine. “Fuck, Emma, shit,” he moans. I can only respond with unarticulated moans of pleasure and gasps for breath. “Oh, fuck, Cole, I’m gonna come,” I announce. I shut my eyes tight and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into me. He thrusts one more time, strongly, and my orgasm erupts. Pulses of pleasure shoot up and down my spine and turn my insides, my chest beats and my heartrate booms against my eardrums. The outside world disappears as I feel my body melting into Cole’s. Cole collapses next to me, a sheen of sweat glistening over his body in the moonlight, highlighting the twists and turns of his musculature. Slowly the world comes back into focus and a blissful

His hands were clumsy as he leaned back and started to remove my flannel pants. He growled in appreciation when he saw that I wasn’t wearing any panties. I said nothing as he angrily pulled at my shirt to get it off of me. “I want to see your skin. I need you,” he kept repeating. Leaning up, I quickly pulled my camisole over my head. Instead of his usual slow sexual way, he fell on top of me again and quickly entered me. It caught me so off guard that I gasped. My body easily accepted him, so there was no pain, but it was so unlike Devin that for a brief minute I felt fear. Once I looked up into his face my fear melted away and all I wanted to do was make whatever was hurting him go away. He looked down at me and although there were no tears on his cheeks, he looked like he was about to cry. He buried his face in my neck so that I couldn’t see him anymore. Something was definitely wrong. I held on to him and my heart broke as he rocked against me over and over again. The couch creaked with his every thrust and the sound of our bodies smacking echoed throughout the room. “I only want to feel you, nothing else, just you,” he whispered into my hair. His movement became jerky as he sped up. He thrust into me over and over again, harder each time. His hot breath pounded against the side of my neck. I said nothing as he found comfort in my body. I just held him close to me and every now and again, kissed the side of his neck. I felt his body tense up as he growled out his release and slammed into me one final time. His full body weight pressed against me when his arms went weak and he dropped onto me completely. When he finally removed his face from my neck and looked down at me I could see the realization in his eyes of what had just occurred. I never said no, but he never really asked. Quickly, I cupped his cheeks with my hands and kissed him softly. “Did I hurt you? I never want to hurt you,” he said with a thick slur. “It’s OK, I’m OK,” I whispered. He said nothing. He just stared back at me like he was afraid I’d push him away and run for my life. Then his expression changed, and tears filled his eyes. I’d never seen a grown man cry in my life and my heart crushed inside my chest as he buried his face in my neck once more. “I’m going to lose you. I am. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m going to lose you.

His hands were clumsy as he leaned back and started to remove my flannel pants. He growled in appreciation when he saw that I wasn’t wearing any panties. I said nothing as he angrily pulled at my shirt to get it off of me. “I want to see your skin. I need you,” he kept repeating. Leaning up, I quickly pulled my camisole over my head. Instead of his usual slow sexual way, he fell on top of me again and quickly entered me. It caught me so off guard that I gasped. My body easily accepted him, so there was no pain, but it was so unlike Devin that for a brief minute I felt fear. Once I looked up into his face my fear melted away and all I wanted to do was make whatever was hurting him go away. He looked down at me and although there were no tears on his cheeks, he looked like he was about to cry. He buried his face in my neck so that I couldn’t see him anymore. Something was definitely wrong. I held on to him and my heart broke as he rocked against me over and over again. The couch creaked with his every thrust and the sound of our bodies smacking echoed throughout the room. “I only want to feel you, nothing else, just you,” he whispered into my hair. His movement became jerky as he sped up. He thrust into me over and over again, harder each time. His hot breath pounded against the side of my neck. I said nothing as he found comfort in my body. I just held him close to me and every now and again, kissed the side of his neck. I felt his body tense up as he growled out his release and slammed into me one final time. His full body weight pressed against me when his arms went weak and he dropped onto me completely. When he finally removed his face from my neck and looked down at me I could see the realization in his eyes of what had just occurred. I never said no, but he never really asked. Quickly, I cupped his cheeks with my hands and kissed him softly. “Did I hurt you? I never wanted to hurt you,” he said with a thick slur. “It’s OK, I’m OK,” I whispered. He said nothing. He just stared back at me like he was afraid I’d push him away and run for my life. Then his expression changed, and tears filled his eyes. I’d never seen a grown man cry in my life and my heart crushed inside my chest as he buried his face in my neck once more. “I’m going to lose you. I am. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m going to lose you.

Ben gives them a quick wave and then removes his arm from around my shoulders, sliding his fingers through mine. "Nice to meet you both." He points down the hall. "I'm gonna follow Fallon to her room now so I can see what kind of panties she has on.

I caught his mouth with mine and shifted my hands to start unhooking his shirt buttons. I could feel him grinning as he kissed me harder, driving me back against the bookshelf and shoving his knee between my thighs. I pushed his shirt off of his broad shoulders and looked at the perfection of his muscular torso for a moment, running my hands down his chest. He drove me back against the shelf more firmly, kissing me again. I devoured the taste of him, his hands sliding over my breasts through the thin material of my dress and making my nipples harden in response. I placed my palms on his chest and pushed him back, propelling him around so that he was pressed against the shelf instead of me and a dark laugh left him. “Do you wanna be in charge, sweetheart?” “Well, I am more powerful than you,” I teased. His eyes lit with the challenge in my tone as I took a few steps back and pulled on the knot at the back of my neck. My dress fell from my body like a spill of oil and pooled at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my black panties. “Holy shit, Tory.” He gazed at me hungrily and I stepped back again biting on my bottom lip as I looked at him. “Take your pants off,” I commanded. Caleb’s smile deepened and he held my eye as he kicked his shoes off and unhooked his belt. I twisted my fingers through my hair as I watched him, my pulse rising as he revealed more of his muscular body to me. When he was down to his navy boxers, he advanced on me again. I smiled, backing up as he stalked towards me until the backs on my thighs met with the games table. He was upon me in a heartbeat, his hands gripping my thighs as he lifted me up and sat me on the table. His mouth pressed to my throat, stubble grazing across my skin in the most delicious way. His kisses moved lower, passing over my collar bone before making it to the swell of my breast. His mouth landed on my nipple, his tongue flicking against it and making me moan in pleasure. His hand found my other breast while he spread his other palm across my lower back to hold me in place. I locked my ankles around him, pulling him closer so that I could feel the full length of his arousal grinding against me through the lacy fabric of my panties. His mouth found mine again and I pushed my fingers into his golden curls as my breasts skimmed against the firm lines of his muscular chest. My muscles were tightening, my heart pounding and my body aching for more of him. I grazed my fingertips down his chest, feeling every ridge of his abdomen before reaching the waistband of his boxers. I pushed my hand beneath the soft material and wrapped my fingers around the hard length of him. Caleb groaned against my lips as I began to move my hand up and down, a tingle running along my spine as I felt just how much my touch affected him. His hands made it to the sides of my panties and he peeled them down as his heavy breathing broke our kiss. I lifted my ass to let him remove them and he stepped back, forcing my hand off of him as he tossed my underwear aside. I watched as he pushed his boxers off revealing every inch of him and my mouth dried up with desire. He shot forward with his Vampire speed, scooping me up and moving me backwards as he lay me beneath him on the games table. Poker chips and cards scattered all around us and a surprised laugh left my lips. He grinned as he kissed me again, hard enough to bruise my lips but still not enough to tame my desire. My hands explored the curve of his shoulders and I arched my back off of the table so that my nipples skimmed his flesh. Caleb shifted, moving between my legs, our kiss breaking for the briefest moment as he looked into my eyes and pushed himself inside me. A moan of pleasure escaped me as he filled me and I tipped my head back, my eyes falling closed as I absorbed the feeling of his body merging with mine. “Fuck,” Caleb breathed as he started to move, slowly at first but building in speed as I urged him on. (tory)

What’s with men thinking every woman turns into elastic girl when they hit the mattress, floor, kitchen table, or any surface when their panties are removed, or worse, nudged aside? She didn’t have much experience, but she and Becca decided men had a penchant for twisting a girl into a pretzel and expecting her to enjoy her legs wrapped around her head. Oh baby, do it to me. Yeah, right. Then, to add insult to injury, literally, a man felt as if he had to bend a girl around like a Gumby doll and wouldn’t leave her alone until he’d come and she’d faked three orgasms, giving him the ego stroke necessary to break his arm while he patted himself on the back for being the world’s greatest lover.

Bra already forgotten, he was working on her pants, and he kissed every inch he bared, from her waist to her knees, then to her ankles, then her toes, one by one. he laid a path of kisses down on leg, then up the other, then he placed a long, lingering kiss at her center, through her panties, She was already wet for him. Not that he hurried. All the impatience he'd shown earlier seemed to have evaporated. Doris could have crocheted a pair of panties in the amount of time it took Hunter to remove Gabi's. She squirmed under him. "I thought they teach speed in the military." "When warranted. There are times that call for careful deliberation." "You're going to deliberate me to death," she warned, just as he finally parted her hot flesh, a move that immediately silenced her. But he didn't touch her further. He blew on her clit. She nearly jackkifed off the couch. He pushed her knees up until her heels touched her butt, then he pushed her knees out until she was spread wide open just inches from his face. And then he just looked. Good grief. What was there to look at? "Touch me!" she snapped when she couldn't stand the suspense any longer. "Touch me, you torturous bastard. That's an order." He laughed deeply and heartily. "And what are you going to do if I don't?" "I'll arrest you." "I think that's what they call an abuse of power." His eyes glinted darkly. "But the idea of handcuffs does have considerable merit.

Abrams voice cut in over the comm. “My God, this place is breath-taking!” “It is a palace for the gods,” added Brock. The group stood gawking at the magnificence of the hall surrounding them. Delanda went to the table, placed her helmet and pack on it, and began pulling tablets, scanners, and other accessories out. She wrestled off her gloves, but had trouble with the suit torso so Wilson had to intervene and help. Without a thought to the revealing fit of the white stretch suit liner, she escaped the spacesuit bottom and placed it on the table. Then, with still no self-consciousness at all, she stripped the suit liner off down to athletic bra and slim panties and pulled her pink, rolled up vacuum-packed flight coveralls and cloth boots from the suit pack. After excitedly dressing, she hurriedly grabbed a scanner from her pack and began investigating the hall. Show over, one by one we all removed our suits and became visitors in white suit liners. Wilson gave his fatherly warning. “Everyone be very careful removing and folding those liners. If you tear or damage the thermal control system in any way you could have an unpleasant trip back to the ship. Also, be careful to tuck in your suit communicator since we’ll all be using wrist coms from now on. That is if they actually work here.” Delanda ignored his comments and headed for the far end of the hall. Wilson pulled on black coveralls, R.J.’s were farmhouse blue, Brock and Wen light green, Abrams in hospital scrubs green, and Sharma’s and Ansara’s in tan. Mine were captain’s blue. As we studied our celestial surroundings, Delanda returned and spoke in a commanding voice. “Gentlemen, if you would grab your tablets and gather around me here at this magnificent table we should get started.” For the first time there was a unanimous look of annoyance, although everyone quickly complied. R.J. and I stood opposite her feeling like two school kids being ushered around on a field trip. Delanda checked to be sure everyone was paying attention. “Okay, I’m assuming our intranet will work in here even though we’re out of contact with the ship. Let’s try it. All of you use your tablets to access mine and copy the file titled: Translations. Let me know if anyone has trouble.” Delanda’s tablet appeared on our screens. As she had guessed, there were no problems getting in. Once copied, I opened the file and found dozens of Altair symbols, some highlighted, most grayed-out. “Okay, everyone got in? Right? Okay, the symbols you see highlighted are the ones I believe I have a rudimentary translation for. Those that are in gray, your guess is as good as mine.” “How do you propose we proceed?” asked Brock. “Speaking as an experienced field researcher, I would suggest one of us photographs and documents this first chamber thoroughly while the rest of us split up and do the same with other chambers, periodically reporting back here after each excursion. We should have one central person remain here to monitor the progress of everyone in the event they get into trouble. I would think that would be you, Commander Mirtos, since you are the best at rescue. Does anyone have any objections?” R.J. leaned over. “I believe this is a non-hostile takeover. Are you going to step in?” “Not until she says something I disagree with.” Delanda continued. “So, if no one has any objections the first order of business will be to photograph every wall symbol we find along with any artifacts possibly associated

BECOMING UNDONE   Advancing down the front of her with my lips pressing firmly against her stomach my hands move up from underneath her shirt looking up into those eyes that long for me. Traveling up her long thighs my hands move with a subtle sophistication that sends shivers round about her. My hands and fingers inch all the way up under and passed her buttocks climbing over the top of her black panty line. Like a feather broom to a silk web her laced laungerie slips down her legs as her hands and fingers comb through my hair. With my fingers I draw a V below her lower abs sliding my lips between her libellule as she moves up the back of my neck. I remove her sandals from her heels looking up at her as my hands strum down from her back end, she gazing down at me with a still attraction.

Bringing her over to the kitchen island, I lift her little frame, sitting her on the edge and removing the mask. I toss it on the floor, her long black hair remaining a tangled mess over her face. She looks wild and untamed, and every bit the dirty doll I’ve always imagined. “You ready for some cock?” I ask, pulling her panties to the side and plunging my fingers back inside her.

She sighs wistfully and flops down onto an empty stump as her seat. “God. I love gin and tonic. Panty remover.

delectable lover. Alex was clearly not satisfied with the clothes still remaining, and started pulling at her hips. Breaking the kiss, Alex gently pushed against Kaylee’s shoulder, laying her back on the couch. With one deft movement, her skirt, panties and remaining clothes were removed, and Kaylee was nude. Blushing, she opened her eyes to see Alex gaze upon her flesh. Then they locked eyes again as Alex leaned down, pushing Kaylee’s thighs apart with her knee, and continued to kiss her. After a few moments, Alex left her lips and turned to her neck. Sucking, kissing, and nibbling, Alex found Kaylee’s tender spots, sending bolts of electricity shooting through her. While teasing with her mouth, Alex moved her

Y-you’ll keep fucking me?” Cassia said hopefully. “You mean like a mistress?” “Sure,” Renna said while slowly removing her panties. “Or like some old whore I shove my fist in when I’m bored.

Next the ruined panty hose came off. I removed my wide gold wedding band, tied it to the leg with the big hole, and carried it back to the bedroom. I stood on the bed and looped the hose around a blade on the ceiling fan. I hoped Drew would flip on the light switch and the thing would knock him upside the head.

The horse gave his arm a nudge when he reached to remove the headstall. With his large hand, he gave the animal an affectionate stroke on the neck that gave Charli a tug way deep down in her lemon yellow panties.

his fuck-me green eyes are paired with perfectly coiffed hair that exudes the kind of sex appeal that makes you wish he’d invite you to remove your panties. Because after a minute with him, you’d only need an invitation.

To keep me from whimpering in pain, please stuff nylons and panty hose into my mouth, gag me with pleasure. Tie the gag skillfully to my mouth with a rubber hose (you can buy it in any hardware store) and more nylons—so skillfully that I can’t possibly remove it. And please wear a small black bikini, which reveals more than it conceals. I won’t breathe a word!