Chapter One

I was just about to get in the shower when I heard the postwoman push something through my door. She always lingered for a moment, pretending to check her bag, waiting to see if I’d come to the mat, naked. With a thin glass strip running from the top of my front door to the bottom, she could see all the way up the stairs.

Not wanting to disappoint her, I walked slowly downstairs, pretending I couldn’t see her standing there, but she’d gone deathly still, her hands still inside her post sack, but her eyes, I was sure, were peering through the window under her cap.

I picked up the padded envelope from the mat, and stood there, examining it for a minute, while she feasted her eyes on my semi-hard cock. I could feel myself hardening under her gaze. There was something about her that just made me want to open the door like this and let her do whatever she wanted. I risked a quick glance at her face, and we locked eyes. There was the faintest trace of a smile at the corners of her mouth, and then I saw her eyes flicker back to my thick cock. Fuck, I want her.

I stood there just long enough to keep her going for the day, and then turned on my heel and headed back up slowly. It was a routine that we’d fallen into, and I wondered if I should give her more of a show one day.

As I reached the bedroom, I checked the envelope. I was sure the handwriting was a girl’s. There was a small, black heart penned on the rear flap. Intrigued, I tore open the top and looked inside.

All I could see was something scrunched up at the bottom—it looked like red lace and a small note. The smell, though, was something else entirely. The moment I’d peeled open the top edge, my senses were drenched in the sweet cologne of sex and perfume. I could feel my cock spring to life before I even knew what was in there. Excitement coursed through me as I took in the seductive scent, and I grabbed my cock while it trembled in anticipation.

I sat on my bed and emptied the contents of the envelope out, before pushing my nose against the torn edge and savouring the air that smelled like a spent pussy. I turned over the note and read it.

Between the intoxicating scent of her freshly worn knickers, and the demand for me to violate them with my thick spunk, I was as hard as a rock. There was no way I wouldn’t obey, and whoever sent me this envelope knew it. I turned it over to check the postmark, to see if a place name would jog a distant memory about a past lover, but the front was bare, without a stamp or mark of any sort. The idea that a completely anonymous woman could soak her thong and then post it to me made me want to explode. Send me proof, she said. I was going to have to make a video and send it to an anonymous email account. The thought made me nervous—this could be anyone wanting to humiliate me, or cost me my job. I didn’t think so, somehow, but there was no ignoring the risk.

Not wishing to deprive my anonymous benefactor of her well-earned spoils, I decided not to let my hard-on go to waste. It needed some attention, and this felt like a special occasion, so I grabbed the tube of Veet in my bedside drawer, lay back, gripped my solid cock and slowly smeared the cream around my balls and my cock, pressing firmly with the plastic paddle. I spread my legs wide, balls out on show, my eight-inch cock quivering in my tight grip.

I loved having a completely smooth cock. Being able to smother it in baby oil and stroke the silky skin drove me nuts. Cupping my balls and rolling them around in my palm was heavenly even with hair, but without it was exquisite.

Having covered my manhood in the cold cream, I reached over and opened the red knickers. It was a tiny thong, with delicate lace all over and a size fourteen label. These were from a proper woman, and I spent the next fifteen minutes imagining how she looked, whilst I held her sodden panties against my face.

The timer on my phone sounded, so I heaved myself carefully off the bed, and wandered through to the shower. For five minutes I scraped and wiped the cream from my newly smoothed cock, savouring every touch, and keeping myself erect and ready. I turned the shower on, pulling the head down and aiming the powerful jets at my waiting cock. Usually I would take a handful of conditioner and rub its silky wetness over my thick cock while a stray finger snaked around my back, over my cheeks and into my tight arse. I needed to hold out today. I had plans for this load.

I padded my way, still soaked with droplets of water, back to my bedroom. I opened my curtains, savouring the warm sunlight as it blinded me through the Juliet balcony. I often stood here naked—the woman opposite was always walking around in just a thong, or sometimes nothing. It was only polite to return the favour. I set my phone up on the nightstand and pressed record. The nerves kicked in again. What if she sent it to my friends or my boss? I’d never be able to show my face again. What if she showed it to her friends? That thought actually made me harder.

I grabbed the red knickers and pulled them on, feeling the delicious softness of the fabric as it pulled over my hungry, smooth cock, squeezing my balls together. I pulled them up harder, feeling the thong press dangerously against my willing anus. Sitting back, near the glass, with my legs slightly open and my feet against the balcony doors, I gripped my hardness through the lace panties, trying to hurt my wanton cock, and leaving a lace imprint on my smooth, ultra-sensitised skin.

Squeezing my arse cheeks together as tightly as I could, I pressed my loin against the firm grip of my right lover. My left hand cupped my balls, rolling them lovingly around my palm as I thrust my rigid cock through my fingers. My breathing was becoming shallow, and I could feel the slow, exquisite ache, spread up through the insides of my thighs, my arsehole, the soft, smooth skin around my cock, right up through my navel and chest, to the tips of my nipples.

I could hear the soft moans escaping my open mouth, my tongue licking around the inside of my lips. I imagined this mystery woman, lying there, long, blonde hair flowing over her pillows, back arched and nipples hardening on her plump breasts, as her legs widened, wanting a cock to pummel her. She grabbed her red knickers and pulled so tightly that her lips were visible; her knuckles whitening as the intensity of her grip increased, yanking them against her soaked slit, feeling them grind against her forbidden passage at the rear.

These thoughts were too much. I pulled the knickers to one side, letting my throb spring from its feminine harness, reaching behind and pushing a finger indelicately inside my bum. There was something so naughty about playing with my arse, and feeling my finger deep inside me as I stroked my cock. I fantasised about my lover tying me to her bed and then pushing her toys into me to punish me for wanting to fuck her. I could imagine the pain, but also the pleasure of her taking my cock into her mouth as she vandalised my arse. I squeezed my cock with all my might, pulling it up and down in slow, rhythmic strokes as I gripped my finger with my pelvic muscles.

I was edging now. Wanking never lasted long—not with the devious thoughts in my mind. I dabbled with my imagination, dreaming of being in a shop changing-room, stroking my hardness, only a thin veil of fabric separating me from hundreds of other shoppers, wondering if they could smell the sex from my cock, as I squirted over the walls.

My strokes were getting faster, and my arse was squeezing my finger tightly as I pushed it as far inside as it would go. I felt the fiery liquid bubbling up inside my balls, snaking its way through my aching tubes, begging to be released. The note had been specific though - fill them. There was no way that would happen like this, so I let go of my cock and pulled the thong down, leaving it laid open on the floor.

I knelt by the window, my profile visible to anyone looking, the swollen, red tip of my cock, quivering over the gentle lace of her knickers, and pumped my cock for the final assault. Faster I stroked, gripping tighter and harder, fingering my arse, in and out, in and out as I clenched my cheeks and pounded my flesh weapon, feeling the ache rising up, the euphoria within my grasp, the vibrations of the blood rushing around my balls and thighs and then, suddenly, I came.

Thick jets of milky gloop erupted from my swollen cock, which writhed and bucked as the orgasm ripped through my loins. Squirt upon squirt of my salty gift, creamed the panties and soaked into the skimpy fabric. Great dollops of my hot cum drenched the gusset, and still it came. I imagined her putting them back on, and rubbing my sacrifice into her slut-hole, begging me to fill her cunt with my cream, over and over again.

My body shook with the remnants of my satisfaction washing through me, my still-hard cock twitching and cum dripping from the swollen head. The knickers were ruined. I’d covered them in my cum. Thick globs glistening on the surface of her gusset, leaking over the delicate lace at the front and dripping from the string that would nestle against her begging arsehole.

I licked my fingers, savouring the salty taste of my sex, soaked in sweat and breathing hard, before switching off my phone recorder and saving the video. I picked up the desecrated thong and carefully arranged it half in and half out of the envelope. I took a quick photo of the envelope and her soaked knickers, with my cock hanging over them, cum still dripping into the open top.

I pulled up my email account, and typed in the address.

Enjoy the video. I’ve also attached a picture. I’ll be leaving this behind the flowerpot next to the front door…