Panty Stealing Pervert: Forbidden Threads

Panty Stealing Pervert: Forbidden Threads

Panty stealing pervert was caught red handed. The first time I noticed something missing, I brushed it off as laundry mishaps. It’s easy to lose socks, so why not panties? But when the second pair vanished, I started paying attention. By the third, I was suspicious. The fourth made it undeniable: someone was taking my underwear. Living in a shared house meant privacy was relative. I shared the space with Kendra, my best friend since college, and her boyfriend, Drew, who’d moved in three months ago.

Drew was charming in an effortless way, all crooked smiles and messy hair, the kind of guy who always seemed like he was in on some secret joke. I tried not to think about him too much. He was Kendra’s, after all. Off-limits. Still, when my panties started disappearing, he became my prime suspect. It was a ridiculous thought—I mean, who does that? But there were no other explanations. I wasn’t leaving the house much, and Kendra wouldn’t do something so strange.

The panty stealing pervert was Drew.

I decided to catch him in the act. One night, I left a pair of my favorite lacy panties on top of my laundry pile in the hallway, bait for my little trap. Then, I waited. Around midnight, I heard his footsteps. Slow, deliberate. My door was open just a crack, enough for me to see him emerge from his room. He glanced down the hallway, making sure no one was watching, then bent down to the laundry basket.

I flung my door open. “Drew.” My voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet like a blade. He froze, the panties in his hand. His eyes widened in panic, but then something unexpected happened: his lips curved into a sheepish grin. I should have been furious. Should have yelled, or stormed off, or told Kendra immediately. But instead, I found myself staring at him, a thousand questions fighting for dominance in my mind. “Why?! You panty stealing pervert Do you want some sort of sissy slut makeover!” I finally managed to ask.

He shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted something of yours.” The honesty in his voice threw me off balance. I expected excuses, lies, anything but the quiet sincerity of that confession.

The panty stealing pervert being honest threw me off balance.

I expected excuses, lies, anything but the quiet sincerity of that confession. There was a charged silence between us, the air heavy with something unspoken. His gaze met mine, and I felt a spark, a magnetic pull I’d been trying to ignore since the day we met. It was wrong, but in that moment, I didn’t care. I stepped closer, my breath hitching as the distance between us disappeared. He smelled like cedar and something faintly spicy, a scent that made my pulse quicken. Leaving me to crave more. And then, he kissed me.

It was reckless, impulsive, and absolutely electric. His lips were soft but insistent, his hands tentative at first, then bolder as they found my waist. I should have pushed him away, he was just a panty stealing pervert. I should have stopped this madness before it went any further. But instead, I pulled him closer, losing myself in the heat of the moment. We stumbled back into my room, the door clicking shut behind us. Clothes were discarded in a flurry of movement, and soon we were tangled together on my bed. His touch was both gentle and fervent, his lips tracing a path down my neck, my shoulders, my hips. Every nerve in my body was alive, humming with a kind of electricity I’d never felt before.

For a while, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no Kendra, no shared house, no stolen panties—

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