I wish women could be fucked through their panties. You know how much I love panties. Booty shorts and thongs can be fine, but panties are unmatched. They’re girly and childish, but show off everything womanly in just the right ways. Thongs exaggerate the size of hip bones and make asses look “long” similar to the way “mom jeans” do. Booty shorts often cover up the most essential part of the thigh: the impossibly soft inner part just before the crotch. Thongs and booty shorts also come almost exclusively in solid colors or some stupid plaid thing. Panties are much more creative. I love the juvenile patterns on so many panties: alternating roses, or pandas, or hearts. I love their bright colors and when they’ve got lateral stripes, they make a nice ass even rounder and fuller than any thong could.
Panties are perfectly divine. I can go down on women through panties and revel in that scent of pussy juice mixing with my saliva and getting absorbed into the soft cotton, which accentuates the smell. Panties also look mighty fine when they’re all wet. I can scoot a pair of panties to the side just a little and get at an asshole too. But I can’t fuck through panties. Yes, I could push them to the side like I do for analingus, but that’s not the same. What I want is to have the soft, soiled, cotton wrapped around my cock entirely—not unlike a condom—while I fuck you. But I can’t. Any pair of panties big enough for that would look retarded when you wore them, and any form-fitting panties would never in a million years relent to the extent necessary.
Sure, I could take a knife or a scissors and cut out the crotch. But who wants to hurt panties? I certainly don’t. The panties would be ruined, and perhaps more importantly, the crotch of them, all wet and stained, would become just a scrap of fabric. Scraps of fabric are not hot; panties are. Would I then give you just a measly piece of cloth to suck on? Or an incomplete pair of panties, devoid of their messiest part? It’s vaguely depressing just to think about it.
On the other hand, if I could fuck you through your panties, imagine just how disgusting they’d be at the end of it. They would be completely soaked through, not just with your pussy juice, but with my cum too, and maybe even just a bit of blood. God, it would be fucking hot to unwrap a cute pair of panties from my cock after a good fuck and dangle them over your lips, teasing you before plunging them in your mouth.
Alas, it cannot be.
In a similar vein, I wish both us of could have your panties in our mouths at the same time. One of the absolute hottest memories I have of you are those photos you had me take on one of our last nights together. We’d fucked once already, and for round two we were having you be the babysitter. Perfectionists that we are, we kept starting and stopping to get it right, and during one of the interludes, you had me do a little photoshoot. You were sitting in bed with your nerd glasses on, reading a big book. You had on one of your preppy tops and we’d undone those largely ornamental buttons at the top and forced your tits to pop out. They looked even bigger that way. They were more pronounced, having just made a jailbreak from your top, and the flesh looked even creamier contrasted against the uninviting fabric behind them.
What really brought the photo together, though, were the panties. They were one of my favorites, as you knew: the ones with alternating white and dreamsicle-orange lateral stripes. With your enthusiastic encouragement, we got them as messy as possible. They mopped up every last drop of pussy juice on your crotch, and for good measure, we stuffed them first almost entirely up your pussy, and then a bit up your ass. Those panties were a war zone of carnal secretions and you gobbled them right up.
When I started taking pictures, the panties were half-in and half-out of your mouth and you were paying them no mind. Your eyes were a line of concentration straight over those big tits and into your book. You sat there, in all innocence, reading, with only the slightest of smiles across your face. You looked so fucking beautiful. You’d redone your hair so it didn’t look like you’d just been fucked, and in the parallel universe photography creates, it really seemed like you were just doing a little reading before bed. You always do a little reading before bed, and on this particular night, your breasts had just felt a little uncomfortable so you had popped them out for a little air. And your dad or your boss or whomever must have politely asked for you to take off your underwear and hold them in your mouth for a while. No big deal and no explanation offered; good girls like you follow directions.
You were so pleased with the photos. My cock was so hard and despite the thorough cleaning those panties had given your crotch, you were wet again. I asked you if you could taste a little bit of your ass on those panties and you said it was “not a little bit.” We kissed and you proved you weren’t fibbing just to delight my perverted heart. I wish I were an asshole and had saved those photos. I’d pay a lot of money to get them back. If I had a grand that was to be spent on a prostitute or those photos, I’d choose those photos.
In summation, filling a girl’s mouth with her panties is amazing. But so is having a girl’s panties in my mouth. There’s nothing I like that I don’t want to eat. But if I’m choking on a pair of panties, you can’t be. It sucks. I’ve tried “tug-of-wars” with panties, but it doesn’t really work, and mostly just comes off as farcical. Ditto having a girl change in and out of two different pairs over the course of an evening so we both get a set of chew toys. It just doesn’t really work, though I should probably keep trying. I just wish there was some metaphysical way for us to both have the same pair of panties in our mouths, separately.
I wish I could eat a girl’s asshole while she blew me.
“Why not ‘anal’ 69?” you ask?
Because 69ing fucking sucks, that’s why. If I’m doing a good job going down on a girl, she should not be able to do a good job blowing me. If a girl is doing a good job blowing me, I should not be able to do a good job eating her out. End of story. 69ing is for kids and crappy porn from the ‘90s.
What I’m envisioning is that while I am standing and a girl is on her knees blowing me, I bend over her head and reach all the way down her back to get a few good licks in. Impossible? Yes, that is not how human bodies work. No one can do that. Yet, somehow, as a horny virgin in early adolescence, I thought it was possible, and wrote about how desperately I wanted to do it. Kids are weird.
Would not this act suck for the same reason 69ing sucks? Yeah, probably, but I want to find out for myself, after my back doubles in length.
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“Impossible But Desired” is an excerpt from Richard Power’s new memoir, Letters from a Heartbroken Pervert. You can purchase the book from Terror House Press here.
Richard Power is the author of Letters from a Heartbroken Pervert, available from Terror House Press.
