Getting Caught Trying On My Wife’s Lingerie
I should have known that doing the laundry was going to be a problem. My wife has a lovely collection of knickers, lace, satin, stretch, even smooth cotton. I was folding the clothes in the laundry room and trying my best to set those aside to deal with later, because I always found them very attractive on her. They were much more erotic to me then the simple men’s shorts that I was seemingly stuck with. I mean, cotton knit, or cotton knit? I suppose I could have invested in some silk men’s underwear, boxers at least, and it would have helped. Eh, hindsight, as they say, is better then foresight. This was a case of foresight being totally abstinent.
cc 2.0 Ludovico Sinz
So there I was, in the laundry room, folding clothes. I’m a pretty good husband when it comes to making dinner and doing laundry, as long as I don’t have to deal with hand washables, anyway. These had been washed already and I decided to fold them and put them away. My trouble started when I found this pale blue pair of knickers all netting and lace with a satin insert in the front. They were one of my favorite pairs of knickers when my wife wore them and she wore them often enough that I often thought she had more then on pair exactly the same.
I shoved them to the side to deal with later and put my attention on the other items in the load. The damage was already done though. The thought of how they felt on her skin and the things we’d done when she had worn them were already running through my brain. I found myself wondering how those knickers felt on. I could try them… but no, I had better not… oh but I bet they would feel great… Nuts. I shut the thoughts up until I had everything else folded and then placed the pale blue temptation on the top of the pile.
From the laundry room to the bedroom I went with the load of laundry. I casually tossed the problem pair of knickers on the made bed and put the rest of the clothes away. The breeze through the open window kept me company. Next door there was a lawn mower going. I vaguely took note of it, but for some reason did not bother to check exactly where the mowing was taking place.
I stripped off my trousers, shoes and socks over by my dresser and then moved across the room to where I had tossed the pale blue knickers. Sliding my boxers off, back to the window, I bent over and picked up the flimsy bit of netting and satin, fingering the material with my thumb. I did not pay attention to the sound of the mower cutting off. I put the knickers up to me, making sure they would fit, before opening them and sliding one leg then the other in slowly. It was only as I turned that I noticed my older neighbor standing at the fence watching me through the window…
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