Sister’s Satin Panties Part Two

Sister’s Satin Panties – Chapter 2
By
Michele Nylons

I was masturbating in the bathroom of my sister’s house; I had a pair of my sister’s nylon panties over my face and I inhaled her musky odour as I furiously stroked my erection which I had wrapped in a pair of her black satin panties.

I ejaculated into the shiny black panties and once again feelings of remorse and shame replaced the feelings of sexual excitement. I removed the nylon panties from face and put them aside and then took a few folds of toilet paper from the holder and guiltily wiped away the pool of semen that I had spent into my sister’s panties and blotted them dry as best I could. I buried both of the flimsy garments underneath the other clothing in the wash basket, flushed the toilet and pulled up my pants.

A lot had happened in the thirty-five years since that fateful evening on the train. My sister Michele, now fifty-one years old, had never married. Instead she had had a series of unsuccessful relationships all of which had ended messily. She had no children and had not had a partner now for over a year to the best of my knowledge.

We had drifted apart and saw each other spasmodically; usually during the holidays. I had been married and divorced and now lived alone; my two children grown up with kids of their own.

Downstairs I could hear the sounds of people making their excuses to leave the family gathering. Family gatherings were a rare event, and this Easter my sister had hosted a dinner party. It was an awkward event where my ex-wife and I pretended to be civil to each other and my children and their kids could barely contain their eagerness to leave the uncomfortable gathering.

I didn’t think too much about what had happened between me and my sister on the train that night thirty-five years ago, but whenever I visited her house I inevitably found myself rummaging around in the dirty laundry in her bathroom and masturbating into a pair of her soiled panties, reliving the experiences of that fateful night.

We had never spoken of it and Michele seemed to have forgotten about the incident entirely. As we grew up and grew apart we didn’t have much contact with each other anyway, and when we recounted our school days at the Graham Academy I steered the conversation away from the train trips that we made home for the holidays.

I came downstairs to the kitchen to see that everyone had packed up and was preparing to leave. I air-kissed my ex-wife and hugged my children and grandchildren and they beat a welcomed retreat to their respective cars for the long drive home.

“Guess it’s time to go too,” I said to my sister, feeling guilty about the act that I had just committed in her bathroom.

“Stay for a while Mike,” Michele said and smiled wanly at me, “There are some things I want to discuss with you.”

I poured myself a drink from the small bar; Michele declined a drink herself and followed the small crowd out of the door to wave farewell.

The house was still and quiet, and when my sister came back into house she walked past me and went up the stairs. I presumed she needed to use the bathroom and settled down at the kitchen table and nursed my drink. I had a good idea what Michele wanted to talk to me about. Our mother had died recently and there were still a few legal issues concerning her will that we needed to sort out.

I sat at the table staring down in a reverie hoping that I wouldn’t have to stay too much longer. My daydream was abruptly broken when a pair of black satin panties dropped on the table in front of me. I froze; staring at the intimate garment which bore traces of my semen.

“Can you explain this!” my sister said sombrely.

I was gob-smacked and sat there speechless as my face paled and then changed to deep crimson with embarrassment and shame. I looked up at my sister’s solemn face.

“Perhaps its better that I explain first,” she said, pouring herself a drink and sitting across from me at the table

My sister had aged well. She carried a little more weight than when she was younger; her hips were wider and her breasts had sagged a little but she was voluptuous and still attractive. She still wore her hair in a short black bob and her makeup was heavy by today’s standards; lots of eyeliner, mascara and eyeshadow; rouged cheeks and ruby-red lipstick on her pouty lips.

I stared at her; guiltily silent as she went on.

“I have noticed over the years that whenever you visited my home that my dirty-laundry basket had been tampered with and then I found that my panties were stained.”

“I put it down to one of your teenage sons experimenting as he entered puberty. I’m not entirely naïve to the sexual peccadilloes of pubescent teenagers; I’ve had enough boyfriends over the years.”

“But I eventually realised that it was my own brother who was transgressing; but I decided to leave the matter alone for the sake of family harmony,” she said.

“Let me explain,” I whispered as I tried to fumble out some inane excuse.

“No! Let me finish Mike,” she said, silencing me with her curt tone.

“About three months ago I was having some personal problems; I was drinking too much and feeling despondent about the way my life has turned out.”

“A friend put me on to psychiatrist who recommended hypnotherapy.”

“After a few sessions I found that I was having strange dreams involving sexual fantasies where a stranger was molesting me. I was still a young girl and in my dreams I was always wearing the uniform that I had worn at the Graham Academy.”

“Wait a minute Michele,” I interrupted and now my face turned a deep scarlet and I was feeling physically sick.

“No; let me continue!” she snapped.

“I discussed the dreams with my psychiatrist who then she recommended that the hypnotist attempt to recover any repressed memories I might have. You’ve heard of that,” she said accusingly.

“Oh my God Sis; I didn’t know that you had repressed those memories; I thought we just had an unacknowledged agreement to never talk about what happened that night,” I said; my voice both sympathetic and guilt-ridden.

Christ! I loved my sister, even though we seldom saw each other; and now it was apparent that what I did to her all those years ago had caused her psychological damage.

“I’m so sorry Michele; but I was a boy! I didn’t realise that what I did to you was so bad; I thought we had put it behind us,” I said.

“Ok Mike; I guess that constitutes some form of apology but we need to discuss this further; and we will, when I return,” my sister said and stood up and left the room.

I sat there swamped with guilt and remorse staring at my sister’s soiled panties lying in front of me on the table. I gulped down my drink and poured another, waiting for my sister’s return and the accusations and wrath that were sure to follow.

I heard the click-clack of her heels on the stairs and then the kitchen door opened and my sister entered the room.

She was wearing her Graham Academy school uniform!

The blouse was too tight and she had left most of the buttons undone which exposed her white lace bra, barely containing her full breasts. The little A-line skirt was stretched tight around her waist causing a little roll of fat to form at her belly and the hem now rested halfway up her thighs. Her legs were encased in sheer tan pantyhose that glittered in light of the kitchen; they were a lot sheerer that the ones that women had worn in the seventies.

Even the toes of the pantyhose were sheer, a little seam ran along the front of her toes drawing attention to her red-painted toenails. Her black open-toed platform shoes still fit her and she smelt of flowers and bubblegum. Memories of my youth at the Graham Academy came flooding back.

I stared appreciatively at my sister but I wondered why she had put on her old school uniform. Was this some ploy to make me feel even guiltier?

Michele smiled at me.

“Mike; I said was having strange dreams involving sexual fantasies. I didn’t say that I found those dreams displeasing,” she said smacking at a piece of Juicyfruit bubblegum.

“When my psychiatrist uncovered the memories of that night on the train she tried to convince me to confront you or even to go to the police,” she said.

I balked at the shame and humiliation that was awaiting me should my sister take such action.

“But as I said; I never actually found the dreams unpleasant; I have to confess that I have been using them as an aid to masturbation.”

“And when I discovered what you had been doing with my panties I figured that you too were using the memories for masturbation. Am I wrong?” she asked.

“Well you’ve figured it all out haven’t you Michele,” I said; now I was more inquisitive than frightened.

“Mike; we are both middle-aged and lonely. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want another permanent relationship, but I do like sex,” she said, her voice now had a calculating tone.

“What you did to me on that train thirty-five years ago was wrong; but for whatever reason it has now become the focus of my sexual fantasies, and looking at the evidence before you on the table, it is still part of yours.”

“But…” I tried to respond but Michele interrupted me.

“Besides; look at what I went out and bought yesterday!”

My sister lifted the hem of her A-line skirt and the rustling sound of the skirt on her nylons bought the memories flooding back again. She raised the hem of her skirt above her waist and I gasped. Modern pantyhose now incorporated sheer-to-the-waist gussets and I could see the shiny dark-green satin panties underneath her pantyhose quite clearly.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed and leapt from my chair.

Excitement and arousal overcame any reservations I may have felt and I took my sister in my arms and kissed her. She immediately responded and slid her tongue into my mouth. I tasted bubblegum and inhaled her scent as our tongues intertwined.

“Are you sure?” I gasped when we eventually broke our kiss.

“Silly boy,” she responded and slid her hand between our bodies and squeezed my thickening cock through my trousers.

I kissed her again and walked her backwards through the kitchen and into the darkened lounge room. I kept walking her backwards, my body pressed against hers until I felt her bump into the settee. We stopped there and kissed each other passionately as my erection grew in my pants until it was uncomfortable. Michele bought her hands up to my shoulders and pried her body away from mine.

Her pretty face looked up at mine; our eyes locked.

“Some ground rules Mike,” she whispered.

“It goes without saying that this needs to remain our secret.”

“Of course,” I replied.

“It only ever happens here; and it only happens if I say so.”

“Absolutely,” I answered.

“Now; do me like you did on that train when I was eighteen and drunk,” she murmured and kissed me again.

“I want my fantasy to become reality,” she moaned and pulled me closer.

I put my arms around her and slid my hands down to her bum rubbing her through the thin material of her skirt. Once again, after all those years, my fingers experienced the sensation of her nylon pantyhose gusset sliding against the lustrous material of her satin panties.

“Whoops-a-daisy!” she giggled and pulled me down on top of her on the settee.

“Wasn’t that what I said?” she whispered into my ear as lay on top of her.

I looked into my sister’s heavily made-up face and grinned.

“You want it like I did it to you on the train?” I asked.

She nodded her reply and I reached between our bodies and slid my hand up her leg stroking her pantyhose and once again I marvelled at the feel of silky garment. Michele moaned and lifted up one of her legs and wrapped it around my body, pressing me tightly against her.

She was not the tight-bodied teenager that she once was but her plump body still felt exquisite underneath mine.

“I don’t remember you doing that last time,” I whispered in her ear as my hand kneaded her leg.

“Let’s call it dramatic licence,” she giggled and kissed me again slipping her tongue inside my mouth.

As much as I was enjoying what we were doing I extricated myself from her embrace and stood up. I watched her cheekily smacking her chewing her gum as I quickly shucked off my clothes. My erection stood out proud from underneath the little pot-belly I had developed over the years.

“So that’s the naughty thing responsible for all those stains on my panties,” she sniggered and reached out stroked a finger along the length of my shaft.

Her fingernail was painted with red-nailpolish and she softly scratched at my frenulum causing my penis to shudder.

“I definitely don’t remember you doing that; and didn’t you use pink nailpolish back then,” I teased.

“Oh shut up and do me,” she moaned and wrapped her fingers around my erection and pulled me towards her reclining body.

I would not be rushed however, and I stopped when my knees came into contact with the sofa. I lifted her skirt and looked down at her panty-clad crotch.

“Surely they aren’t the same panties?” I whimpered as my sister slowly stoked my turgid cock.

“No silly; I told you; I bought them yesterday,” she pulled harder on my cock and I climbed onto the lounge and straddled her body.

I stroked her legs and let my penis glide across her sheer hosiery, leaving behind little silvery trails of pre-seminal fluid. My sister gasped when I reached for her titties. They were no longer firm and pubescent; they were creamy and soft and her areolas were large and brown; her nipples erect already. Her breasts had burst out of the cups of her bra when she had plopped down on the settee. Her blouse was mostly unbuttoned giving me free access.

I lowered my face to her breasts and suckled one nipple while I stroked the other nipple with my hand. I breathed in her scent and I could already smell a tinge of the musky bouquet coming from her sex. She was aroused and secreting vaginal juices.

“I don’t remember you sucking my tits either; but if you stop any time soon I’m going to have to slap you,” she giggled and then moaned as I tweaked her nipple between my fingers and softly bit down on the other.

I stroked and suckled her breasts; letting my erection slither along her nylon-encased thighs. My excitement was building but I didn’t want to come too soon so I again extricated myself from our embrace. Michele whined her disappointment but I shut her up with another long passionate kiss.

I moved down her body until my face was level with her ankles. I softly kissed each of her feet and licked the cute little toes poking out the front of her shoes. I kissed, nipped and licked my way up to her knees, where I slopped and lifted each leg and kissed the inside of her knees and she shuddered in response.

“The pantyhose you wore back then used to wrinkle at the back of your knees; I found that so sexy,” I whimpered.

“Modern technology dear; the wonders of Lycra; but I’m sure I can find some of those older-style nylon pantyhose for next time.”

“Now; who told you to stop!” she giggled and pushed my head back down to her legs.

I straddled her again and slowly ran my hands up her legs ahead of my lips and caressed her thighs as I felt her excitement mounting. The pungent smell of her vagina was palpable as I approached the dark-green satin V at the top of her legs.

She moaned as I lapped at her through the layers of hose and panty. She took my head in her hands and pressed me down into her pubis as she opened her legs wide to allow my tongue access to the silky folds of her sex. I lapped at her vulva tasting her vaginal secretions. I kept this up for a few minutes until she began to whimper and shudder.

“Do it! Do it!” she ordered as she pulled my head out of her crotch by my hair and pulled my face up to meet hers.

“Do it just like you did on the train!” she gasped and pulled me down to her and kissed me fervently; sliding her tongue back into my mouth.

She tasted her own sex on me; and once again I tasted Juicyfruit and lipstick.

I traced the crotch of her pantyhose with my finger, there was no seam to guide me this time, but I had no problems locating her vulva through her sodden panties. With my other hand I massaged her soft creamy titty whilst my finger explored the folds of her sex through the layers of nylon and satin. I found her clitoris and she gasped and pushed her crotch against my fingers.

My cock was leaking copious amounts of pre-seminal fluid and when I glanced down I could see a slivery trail running up her tan hose to the V of her crotch. My penis was pulsing and I knew that I would climax soon.

I removed my hand from my sister’s vulva and lowered my body down until my penis lodged against her sodden sex. I hooked my fingernail into the material of her pantyhose as I had done all those years ago and tore a hole in the crotch of her pantyhose and manoeuvred myself over her so that the tip of my penis was at the hole.

“Oh God Mike just do it!” she panted, pushing her hips up to meet my thrusting member.

My cock slid into the folds of my sister’s vulva; separated from her vagina by only one single layer of satin panty. I lowered my face to hers and kissed her, sliding my tongue inside her mouth and began to hump at her. She lifted her legs and locked her ankles behind my back; her sheer pantyhose felt magnificent as the rubbed them on my bare flesh.

Re-living that fateful night in the darkened railway carriage I felt the lips of her sex wrap around my glans as I pushed the silken garment into the crevices of her pubis. This time was different though. My sister was pushing back against me and moving her body to ensure that my penis rubbed against her clitty. I tasted lipstick and Juicyfruit as she frantically kissed me.

Once more I inhaled her scent and moved both of my hands to her hips and pushed her down into the sofa as I fucked her panty-clad mound. But this time it was different.

My sister pushed a hand between our bodies and stroked the top of my shaft with her pantyhose gusset as I dry fucked her. Then she hooked a fingernail inside the small hole I had made in her hose and she tore is wide open and pushed her fingers inside her pantyhose.

She pushed aside the gusset of her satin panties and took my penis in her fingers and guided it to the entrance of her vagina. I felt the folds of her labia open like a flower as she lifted herself up against me and impaled herself on my penis.

“I definitely don’t remember doing this!” I whispered into her ear.

“Shut up and fuck me!” she moaned and raked my back with her fingernails and pulled me deeper inside her; her ankles locked behind my back.

I slid inside my sister until our pelvises slammed together. I looked down into her beautiful face; she was smiling; her dark eyes bright and her red lips parted as I lowered my lips to hers.

We fucked slowly; I pulled my penis almost completely out of her before gradually sliding it back into her; grinding my pelvis against hers so that the base of my penis stimulated her clitoris. She lifted her pelvis up to meet my thrusts and rubbed her sheer-hose clad legs along my flanks to encourage me. Her nails raked my back and she nipped playfully at my tongue.

Our orgasms built up slowly and I matched my thrusts to her rhythm until I felt her climax approaching. We came against each other and she pulled me hard against her body with her legs; her ankles drummed on my back and our tongues intertwined as I emptied my seed inside her. We quivered in each other arms as our orgasms surged through our bodies. It was very loving and as our climaxes subsided we kissed each other tenderly.

A tear ran down her cheek and I licked up the salty droplet and kissed her gently on each of her eyelids. She smiled lovingly up at me.

I lay atop my sister in the comfort of her arms; breathing in her scent, kissing her affectionately as my penis slowly deflated inside her. Her sleek nyloned legs felt sensual and comforting as they remained locked around my body.

As night darkened the room we lay in each others arms and cuddled and caressed each other; saying nothing but enjoying the intimacy. My sister finally broke the silence.

“So? Do you want to keep these panties as a souvenir?” she giggled, and kissed me again.

The End