Cleaned 16

By timos111@hotmail.com

Janelle's plan was to let Christine stew for a couple
of days, then phone her up all little-girl-lost and
say "we have to talk."

This waiting was murder on her, though.  The need in
her had still not been sated, and in fact was steadily
increasing.

But then, suddenly, there was an unexpected bonus.
Right out of left field.  Out of nowhere.

Next day Janelle got in from work at five-thirty,
feeling kinda stinky from a day of office cleaning.
Brad had the TV on, watching an incessant stream of
cable music channels.  Doug was still at work, where
according to usual form he'd probably remain until
about seven.

In Doug's bedroom she shucked off her work clothes and
underwear, then pulled on a robe so she could go and
put her clothing in the laundry basket on her way to
the bathroom.

While showering, she noticed a slight movement out of
the corner of her eye.  She turned around in the
shower stall and peered past the clear plastic shower
curtain.  After a moment or two she noticed that the
bathroom's sliding door was about one inch from being
fully closed.

Hmmm ... she was sure she'd closed it when she entered.
But hadn't bothered to lock it.  Why should she?
There was only ever Doug in the place, and now Brad,
and besides she wasn't all that hung-up about modesty.

What had been the cause of that movement she'd seen?
Just Brad walking past?  Or had he been peeking?

She left the shower running to cover the sound of her
wet footsteps as she padded to the bathroom door.  She
eased it open a tad.  Glancing down the hall, she
could partly see Brad's denim-clad butt through the
laundry doorway.  He seemed to be bending over the
dirty-laundry basket.

Seeing him straighten up, she pulled back and quickly
returned the door to its original position.

Was he, she wondered?  Was it possible that ...?

Shutting off the shower and drying herself, she put on
a fresh pair of panties and the housecoat again.  She
waited quietly in the bathroom, checking her watch
until about four minutes had elapsed.  Ought to be
sufficient time for him to have gotten started.

Then she strode down the hall, turned the handle of
Brad's bedroom door, and shoved it suddenly open.

Brad was lying on his bed with his jeans thrust down,
his very-erect cock gripped in one hand, and the
yellow-stained crutch of her recently-discarded
panties pressed against his nose with the other.

The poor lad just about leapt out of his skin!

The panties quickly disappeared under the bedcover,
but he could do nothing in a hurry to conceal his
massive erection.  With mortification in his face, he
slowly pulled his briefs and jeans back into place.

She stood with her hands on her hips, contemplating
him implacably.

She looked poker-faced, but in fact her mind was a
whirl.

It was like that scene in the Animal House movie when
a girl passed out drunk, and an angel appeared on the
guy's shoulder to say "Stay your hand!  This helpless
lass is but a child!"  Meanwhile a devil appears on
his other shoulder to say "Fuck her!  Go on, fuck
her!"

Janelle's angel was saying she should turn on her
heel, walk out of there, and pretend nothing ever
happened.

Her devil was telling her she ought to seize the
opportunity to teach this kid some respect for
womanhood.  More specifically, show him there'd be
consequences if he messed with her panties!

Consequences that would bring her maximum
satisfaction, of course.

Her racing mind fleetingly considered what Doug might
think.  He'd disapprove of course, but she didn't feel
she had to tell him, or owed him her fidelity.

No, it was too perfect.  Too delicious!  It brought
back fond memories of what she and the girls had done
to that kid in the backseat of a car so many years
ago.

And right now, it would be fulfilling the need in her.

"Stand up" she said, quietly but firmly.

He did, jeans more-or-less up but not yet zipped.

"Strip off."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

He shoved his jeans down and stooped to pull them off
each leg.  Then he raised his t-shirt up over his head
and let it drop to the floor.

His prick was large and magnificent. His body
perfectly muscled, almost hairless.  A light dusting
of fluffy golden pubic hair, and a sum total of about
two translucent chest hairs gracing his breastbone,
but the rest of him was as smooth as a baby's bottom.

"Do you like my panties?"

He blushed red, but didn't say anything.

"You better answer me when I ask you a question.
Otherwise I'll be telling your Uncle Doug all about
this!"

"No ... please!"

"Then answer - do you like my panties?"

"Yes" he muttered, feeling very exposed in his
nakedness before her.

"Explain why."

"I ... uh ... I love the smell."

She already knew that for a fact, and she couldn't
blame him either, but it was good psychology to have
him to state it out loud.

Acting on a hunch, she stepped to the bedside drawers
and pulled them open.  Sure enough, in the bottom draw
there were two more pairs of her panties.  They were
crusty and yellowed in places.  She pulled them out
and held them up.

"What have you been doing with these, exactly?" she
enquired.

Getting an answer from him was like pulling teeth, but
he forced out the words.

"I ... I been jacking off into them."

"Do you think about me, when you do that?"

He blushed even redder, to the roots of his hair.

"Yes."

"Do you imagine you're fucking me?"

"Yes."

"One thing I can tell you right now, Brad - you will
never ever get to fuck me.  But there might be other
stuff I'll want you to do."

"Like what?"

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out.  But
just for starters, I don't ever want to catch you
wearin' no more mens' briefs.  Since you love panties
so much, from now on you ain't gonna wear nuthin'
but!"

"No shit?"

"No shit.  And I'll expect you to verify the fact any
time I request.  Got it?"

"Got it."

"So ... what are you waiting for?"

She held out one of the crackly pairs of panties, and
he took it from her reluctantly.  Bending, he pulled
them up into place.

Ill-fitting, and without enough fabric in the front,
his prick stuck well out over the top.

"Now, finish what you were doing when I got here."

"You serious?"

"Yep."

"I don't think I can."

"Whaddya talkin' 'bout?  You were doing fine when I
first come in here!"

"But ... but ... I ain't done it before, y'know, in front
of a girl!"

"Are you a virgin?"

"No!  But I never let no one see me jack off before."

"You start right now, or I'll be telling Doug."

He sat down on the edge of the bed, thinking about it.
It didn't take long for him to accept defeat.  Laying
back, he arranged a pillow under his head and curled
his right hand around his dong.

What a dong!  There was plenty of it - certainly much
longer and thicker than Doug's.  He stroked
diffidently, though.  Like he was having trouble
getting into the swing of things.

"Several times now I've caught you staring at my tits"
she informed him.

He had the grace to look slightly embarrassed.

"Wanna see what you can't touch?" she tantalised.

He said nothing, but his eyes were definitely
answering in the affirmative.

She shrugged open her robe, enough to expose her
shoulders and chest down to her navel.  He gasped at
the sight of her pointed tits with their proud dark
nipples.  Full and heavy, and so well shaped.  A
chocolate paradise.

He couldn't take his eyes off them, and was wanking in
earnest now.  She stood there like she was modelling
for Christine, turning every so often to give him
another angle while he beat his meat with increasing
vigour.

She stepped forward and leaned over him, so that her
boobs hung down about a foot above his face.  He was
too intimidated by her to even think about trying to
touch them, but the close-up view he had of her down-
hanging globes got him to the brink.  His breath gave
a couple of soft snorts, his toes curled inward, and
she saw his stuff shoot over his belly to land in
thick white gobs, with the final spasms dribbling down
over his cockhead onto his thumb.

"Impressive!" she said admiringly.  She pulled her
robe back together again.

Then she reached under its hem and whisked off the
panties she was wearing.  She did it in such a way
that he only got the teeniest glimpse of her nether
regions.

"Here, let's get you cleaned up."

She reached down and used the panties as a cloth to
wipe the sperm off his belly.  She even dabbed some
off the end of his prick.  To him this was maddening,
because a minute ago he'd wanted so badly to be
touched by her.  Now she was touching him, after he'd
cum - too late to be of any use!

Then she suddenly shoved the soiled garment against
his face, smearing its juices onto him.  He rolled
away and tried to fend her off, but was too slow to
prevent it.

"What's the matter?  Those panties got my fresh pussy
smell on them.  It's the closest you'll ever get to
having your sperm near MY pussy!"

"What else do you want from me?' he asked miserably.

"That'll do for now.  Just remember this will all stay
our little secret, as long as I get your full
cooperation."

"You got it" he whispered.

She closed his door behind her and scurried back to
the room she and Doug slept in.  A mental image of
Brad's strong young cock splurging pecker snot all
over his belly was engraved in her mind. Time for a
quick bout of masturbation before Doug got home?

No, dammit.  She heard his key in the lock, and he
entered the apartment.

"Hi, honey!  I hope looking after that nephew of mine
hasn't been any trouble."

She kissed him on the cheek in greeting.

"Nothing I couldn't handle" she said mysteriously.

She reached down to firmly grasp his testicles through
his business-suit trousers.  His eyes widened in
apprehension.  Using this tender handhold, she led him
aggressively toward the bathroom.