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As I walked down the aisle of the Minneapolis airport on Wednesday, I followed a very pretty dark haired girl. She was probably in her mid-twenties, wearing one of my favorite style skirts. It was the slinky nylon, long straight types which usually get me thinking about what it would be like to do to the wearer in one of those metal free standing phone booths...the kind you can sit down in. I imagine bending her over so she has to rest her elbows on the hard, cold stainless steel seat as I rub her thru that nylon skirt. But I get ahead of myself.
Now this girl must have had nylon briefs on... I could tell... what with my trained X-ray eyes and all. I walked matching her pace so I wouldn't lose the perfect line I had on her generous, bubble butt as she passed under each of those rather harsh florescent lights in the endless concourse we both were walking down.
It was plain that she did not have on any hose, from the way her bare ankles attracted me as she stalked down the hall. And it was also plain from the VPL she had along the side edge of her butt, that she did not have on one of those horrible thongs or g-strings. I could even make out the way the elastic of her panties was sewn with a zigzag stitch, puckering the nylon fabric against the stretched elastic band.
How was I able to tell the panties were briefs you may be thinking? Well, once again the skirt was that lovely slinky nylon material (light beige with the kind of large tropical flowers you usually see on a Hawaiian shirt) and as her hips swayed from side to side, I could occasionally make out a slight bulge up on her waist, just under the puckered elastic waistband of the skirt.
You may be thinking that it was pantyhose, but remember I've already mentioned that her ankles were bare in her clogs... Whenever she walked past one of the large windows facing out towards the parked planes, I could see through the thin skirt material... she was plainly not wearing any sort of half slip. So the logical, and delicious conclusion was that the bulge I'd see was from her panties.... Briefs, no less.
So why am I convinced the briefs were nylon? She looked very practical... the sort of young woman who probably usually wears cotton underwear to keep down the chances of contracting yeast infections. But the skirt was pretty tight fitting, not exactly business wear. She came in from Chicago as I did, and had spent most of the flight reading one of those terribly chic woman's fitness magazines. From what I was watching as she walked in front of me, she practiced what she read!
Oh, but I digress, why so sure they were nylon? I have years of practice observing and experiencing the difference in how material slides against material. Especially nylon.
Had she been wearing cotton briefs under the slinky nylon skirt, the cotton panties would have gripped the nylon slightly as her cheeks rose and only let it go as that cheek fell back...causing her skirt's hem line to rise and fall with the same hypnotic gate she walked with.
I must admit, I have some experience at sliding one piece of nylon against another... purely science you understand. Since the fibers of the nylon are actually quite hard, they do not tend to grip against each other. Try it for yourself... if you happen to have handy a couple of pair of cotton panties, put your hands inside each one and attempt to slide the material of one against the other. You'll quickly see that the cotton seems to stick a bit as you slide the panties together. They don't grip tightly, and you can slide them, but it is not a freely sliding process - there is friction at work.
Now I know you may not have available to you two pair of nylon briefs for the second part of the experiment... in which case you'll have to trust me on the rest. Put your hands inside each brief - back panels work nicely, plenty of room for larger male hands. Oh, notice how smooth the panties feel against your skin, unlike the comfortable but stiffer material of the cotton panties.
Oh, sorry, I'm performing the experiment myself to assure its accuracy, and I got side tracked by the pure science of it all. Well, in any case, when you place your palms together, sandwiching the panty backs together, you'll notice how the fabric slips and slides nicely in every direction. Now if your hands are not too callused, you may notice how there is a "grain" to the nylon, and that in one direction the panties slide more freely than in another. That is because of the nature of the way the fabric has been made... oops, another distraction, back to the experiment.
If you take one pair of each; one cotton and one nylon, and perform the same experiment, you will see that, although this is a nice slippery experience, it is much less so than when it is nylon to nylon. Therefore: cotton to cotton = slippery; cotton to nylon = slipperier; and nylon to nylon = slipperiest.
Back to Minneapolis.... The dark haired girl's nylon skirt did not catch against the panties underneath One Bit! As her cheek rose, the skirt material slid quickly down the flexing muscle...and the hem line only moved side to side with the movement of her hips... I tried to see color through the beige nylon skirt... I could see the panty-line moving, and the skirt material slipping and sliding... but no color presented itself. But the panties were nylon for certain.
She turned and stopped at a window to adjust the small nylon athletic bag she carried. I quickly turned and sat at a stainless steel phone booth about the same distance I had been following her from. The strong sunlight washed against her... and for the first time I could see how nicely the cotton tee shirt she wore fit against her chest. No bra, just lovely, tight, small breasts pressing out from her muscular chest. "A's" I thought...perhaps "A-minus"...perfect!
Distracted by this added bonus, I almost missed the opportunity to closely examine the packaging lower down. As she put the bag on the carpeting to pull out something from inside, the sun caressed her cheeks providing stronger lighting. She bent at the waist straight down, and a perfect view of her butt was presented to me. I could feel the stirring in my suit pants as I saw the clear half-moon outline of her panties crotch panel, framed by the zigzagging elastic of the leg bands.
Could I really see the slight mound the lips made? No, I couldn't be sure, but in a small, solid beige area of the skirt just at the small line that defined the top of her panties' semi-circular double fabric gusset, I could make out that the panty color was dark...perhaps dark blue. Like the nice royal blue Vanity Fair uses. Might be black, but the sun seemed to bring out a slight blue cast to the beige skirt material. My interest rose a bit more as I gawked at this blue gift from heaven.
Oh, yes, back to the fantasy I wanted to describe. I imagined walking with her from a airplane, all alone late at night. Being the very last to get off the plane we both went to make calls at a set of stainless steel phone booths. Our gate was almost at the end of the concourse, and instead of making for the main terminal, we turned toward the empty end. Making several calls, each of us independently assured our waiting hotels that we'd be coming as soon as we got our luggage.
Since I finished first, I started going thru my briefcase to find my reservation materials... and couldn't help noticing how her tight nylon skirt fit against her butt, and how the strong canister lighting made a slight shadow under the panty-line I could see along her strong, tight thigh. I felt myself absentmindedly reaching out my hand to touch that perfect ass cheek... to see if she was wearing nylon panties or cotton.
Electricity shot up my arm when her head snapped around to look at me. I realized I had actually touched her skirt! It was not a fantasy daydream - and I was frozen in place - caught in the act! I did not move my hand out of sheer terror; but she did not say a word either. She seemed to back up into my hand, but all I could think of was her calling security, and my having to explain to my boss why I was in jail in Minneapolis, instead of closing the deal I was there to negotiate first thing in the morning.
No, she did not give any sign of calling out, but neither did she smile or give any indication of what she felt. Terror had an unusual effect on my penis however; I could feel it stiffening and snaking down my pant leg. Terror also took a toll on my nerves, and as my palm lay firmly against this woman's cheek, I could feel the beginning of the rolling tremors I sometimes feel when I run outside in the winter - without a coat - to bring out the garbage. They start someplace near the small of my back, and cause my entire body to begin trembling. They only stop when something warms me up.
She felt the telegraphed tremors, but only pressed back more. Now the fingers of my right hand could feel where the double fabric of her panty crotch panel met the back fabric. As she pressed against my shaking hand, I sensed the smooth nylon of the skirt slipping against the fabric of the panties. "Nylon!" I said to myself… but terror quickly snuffed that delicious observation.
My cock is fearless, impervious to danger situations. Tonight it seemed directly linked to my hand which was sliding against those two (no three) layers of nylon. He wanted nothing less than to wedge himself between those hard cheeks, and revel in the sensation of slippery nylon-on-nylon strokes.
Her eyes locked on mine as she seemed to roll her hips from side to side, and my cock took over thinking for me. I took a short half step toward her, and pressed against her. Those beautiful cheeks caught against my downward pointing cock, and almost magically she worked it so he pointed up inside his BVD cage.
We rocked for a minute or two before I moved my hand, which had remained pinned between my trousers and her buttocks. I faced the length of the concourse, and she was hidden by the stainless steel wall of the phone booth, no one in sight at all. She had stayed bent over at the waist, and now was resting her face against her coat, which was covering the gym bag on the booth seat.
Placing both hands on her hips, I let my cock press against her cheeks, and I could feel the pre-cum fluid begin to coat my undershorts. Reaching around the sides of her hips, I felt how slippery her skirt felt as it slid against the panties beneath. I could feel the side seam of the panties, and as I slid my hands down her sides, could feel the elastic band at the leg openings. These panties felt wonderful!
I could resist no longer and slipped my fingers forward along the leg openings toward her puss. Lace! An inch or two wide, it ran from the side seam forward to where her leg openings met the crotch seam. Back up the lace panel I let my hands roam to the side seam and back upward to the waistband. Soft, slightly wide and flat… the covered elastic band felt unusual. She allowed my fingers to trace a path forward across her belly.
I moved down, past her belly button to the point where the smooth fabric met the top of her panty crotch panel. I kept up this process, until I had memorized the sensations and outline of her undergarment. I couldn't remember feeling any panties that felt quite like these. My cock could stand no more, and I looked up again to confirm that we were indeed alone in the terminal… we were.
I lifted my right hand to my zipper, and released my hard partner, pulling aside the fabric of my shorts so he could rest against her nylon ass.
This time when I started to caress her cheeks, I spent more time tracing the outline of the back of her panty crotch panel. There seemed to be some sort of irregularity there that I couldn't figure out. My cock reveled in the sensation of slipping between her cheeks…covered in two…or was it three layers of nylon. As it slid, the fabric of the skirt clung to it like a second skin, and that nylon rode smoothly in the crack of her ass, which was covered by the as yet unseen nylon panties beneath.
I couldn't hold back any longer and hiked the long skirt up so I could see the treasure I was enjoying beneath. Up and up it came, and while the last bit of it still lay beneath my throbbing cock, I pulled the sides of the skirt up to reveal the panties I longed to see. They were light blue, and looked like nothing I had ever seen before.
Without stopping my stroking, I reached down around to her belly and began to softly rub the incredible nylon. It was not the firm, commercial nylon I had felt so many times before on my girlfriends, but rather soft and almost transparent. The lace panel I had felt through the skirt was also soft to the touch, as if it had been washed a hundred times before ever being put onto the panties as decoration.
Hating myself for it, I stopped sliding my cock along her ass, lifted up and pulled the skirt away so I could see these amazing panties. Their color was so different from anything I had seen in stores made by Vanity Fair, Warner or any other lingerie manufacturer. Without hesitating more than a few seconds to admire them, I placed my dick back on this gorgeous girl's ass… this time on her magical panties.
She pushed back with every stroke now, raising her butt even higher than before. I could actually begin to rub myself against the very back portion of that very large half moon shaped crotch panel. My cock throbbed in response to the feeling. It too was nylon on nylon! This was not any cotton lined panty crotch like all the others I'd known… it was nylon inside too.
Her breathing was heavier now and so was mine. I reached up her chest to touch those perfect buds… not even a full handful! The nipples were tiny, almost as if she wasn't as old as I knew she was. This was no child, but her breasts were the size of a classic champagne glass The nipples seemed no larger than a pencil eraser.
I sucked in my gut so I could watch as my cock rode her, and immediately noticed what I had felt through her skirt material. It looked as if the top seam of the crotch panel had come unstitched…and that had been the slight lump I had felt under my hand earlier. When I looked closely however, I could see that in fact the seam was fully stitched, and that the back seam had been intentionally been left open.
The edge of the nylon fabric had been neatly turned under and sewed by hand to form the same kind of edge a shirt pocket has. This woman bucked her butt up higher so I was now rubbing the top of my cock on the bottom of her pussy. I could feel the dampness of her sex thru that incredibly soft double nylon fabric. As it became wet, the nylon seemed to turn into slick liquid as my cock rode in her crack.
The edges of the crotch gusset were different too. They had what I assumed was a standard elastic band to hold them tight to her legs. But touching it as I probed for her clit, I found more of that incredibly soft lace had been bound to the edge and seemed to run onto the inside of the crotch panel. I found her button and in what seemed only a minute or two of light touching through the nylon, she shook and gasped and locked onto my hand as she came violently.
After, her crotch was soaked in her juices, and she lowered her ass as the quakes subsided. I ran my finger into the side of the panties and found that the inside panel of the panties was indeed entirely covered in soft lace! As I ran my finger along the outside of the panties along the length of her slit, I could now feel the slight texture of the lace under the nylon – such a delicious sensation.
She was clearly not done, but would not raise her ass up again for me as she had before. I thought I'd let my cock ride down under her, and press it up against her slit with my hand to tease her clit. The sensation was pleasant, but not what I wanted… I wanted to feel my cock wrapped in that wonderful nylon of her panties again.
I laid my dick on the top of her ass again, and the nylon from her panties, seemed to slide as if there were lubricant under it. Delightful as this was now it was not enough either. I looked at the strange opening at her butt and decided to take a chance. She'd either go along with me or it could be over with. I had to do it.
I pressed my hardon into the opening and found to my amazement that the gusset was not lace on the inside, but a full nylon pocket with the lace covering it on the side touching her pussy. Shivers ran down my spine as I slid into this nylon sheath. Now she raised her hips up so the top of my cock would ride in the slick, wet nylon entrapped in her pussy. It was just as if I was inside that slit, but I knew there was a fine, smooth layer of nylon between her skin and mine. There was a lace layer beyond the nylon to give me some marvelous friction as well.
I wondered if riding her like this, with the lace rubbing her sensitive tissues would cause chaffing in her pussy, but I figured she'd let me know if it got unpleasant for her. It was heaven for me.
Her hand snaked back between her legs to press against the panty crotch and my pistoning cock. She adjusted the pressure on her clit to what she needed. I sensed she also wanted to provide maximum nylon contact for the sensitive bottom of my cock. I reached forward with one hand to pinch the little eraser nips while the other ran over and over the smooth nylon brief covering her tight back.
I felt I wanted to keep this up forever, but knew her fingers on my nylon covered cock, and the friction from the lace inside her puss would very soon put an end to this heavenly experience. I pinched her nipple a bit harder, and I felt the first convulsions of her second orgasm begin. She jammed her fingertips up against my cock just as I thrust against her clit, and she pushed it back to where her vagina opened.
My breath caught, and I was afraid to draw another for fear of changing the angle she chose for my next stroke. As I thrust forward she seemed to throw her hips back toward me, driving my cock, crotch panel and all; up into her soaking wet pussy. Her orgasm peaked, and her pussy muscles grabbed against my nylon-cased cock forcing my orgasm despite every effort I made to delay it.
I must have been riding against her G Spot, because her gasps turned to moans and then to muffled screams as she buried her face into her coat. We crashed violently together for a minute or so, and then my sweaty face was against her soaked cotton tee shirt. My shriveled cock soon popped out of her slick channel and soon out of her panty pocket as well.
My hands kept up swirling around and around her beautiful nylon brief covered ass. The panties were amazing for more reasons than the cock-chamber. The elastic waistband I could now see was beautifully detailed That soft lace was wrapped around the band on the outside down to just under where the bottom seam of where the elastic was sewn in. But it also went inside, and when I traced my finger into the top edge of the briefs, I was amazed to find that it not only covered the elastic band as on the outside, it extended down as far as my finger could reach.
Now that I was paying attention, I could see that the lace I felt along the top front of the leg openings was really beautiful to look at. Not the standard stuff manufacturers sewed onto the top of the nylon fabric of their panties, but this lace hadn't any nylon fabric beneath, and you could see through it to her skin. As I fingered the panties, it seemed to me that the entire brief was made of two layers of nylon, and when I traced my finger down from the waistband into the brief, I could indeed feel that was so.
There was another strange feature to these panties, the inside seam was not an open binding which would press into her skin, it was also finished as the outside was… so both inside and out had finished seams. No wonder when I slid against her butt it felt strange… it was a double fabric nylon panty!
Where ever did she find these? I could see that against the side seam at almost the top was a small label. I couldn't resist! While continuing my attention to rubbing her ass through the panties, I casually rolled the edge down just enough to pull the tag out and read it.
"Made in the USA" it said proudly…"Size 5"… "Hand Wash Only" was the warning that finished up this side. I flipped the tag over and it said "Pretty Panties" "Custom Made For Lynn". She looked back at me for the first time since this all started… 35 minutes ago, I calculated as I glanced at the clock over her shoulder.
We had not spoken a word in this whole time, yet I knew she was someone I had to see and have again. I had to find out more about her.
Who else in my entire life had ever fucked me this wildly, in public? Who else had such wild needs, to screw in a public airport? Who else had anything like these "Pretty Panties?" – What was the deal with "Custom Made?" I had never experience such a woman before, and I certainly had never seen the match of her stunning panties. They seemed to have been made for fulfilling fantasies!
As I took a half step back to allow her to stand up next to me, she gave my cock a little squeeze, gave me a peck on the lips, picked up her coat and bag and walked off without a word.
"HEY!" I shouted into the empty corridor… "What's your name… Can I see you again?"
She kept walking, and without looking back shouted, "You know my name, give me a call."
I wanted to run after her, but out of a men's room she was passing, a burly middle aged man appeared. He was wearing jeans, a flannel shirt, heavy boots and a parka. She put her arm in his and they walked off together. She never looked back at me
Stunned, I slumped into the phone booth to recover, and put my clothes back in some semblance of order.
Yes, I did know her name. The tag had said "custom made for Lynn" But the Minneapolis area held thousands of women named Lynn. How could I ever find her?
I had no call for complaints, since she had given me the most amazing fuck of my life, but I DID want to see her again. Was she married, and was that her husband she walked off with? I was confused, and beginning to get depressed as I thought of all I'd never have a chance to do again in my life.
Then, realizing it was past midnight and I still had not picked up my rental car or checked into my hotel, I quickly called both places and reassured them that I was still coming. And as I began to get up and out of the phone booth seat, I noticed the card on the floor.
"You've just experienced the highest quality and most amazing new lingerie product ever made" was printed on one side.
"For more information, call 555-PANTIES" was on the other side.
I tucked it into my shirt pocket and began the long walk to the outside doors.
I'll have to call the number tomorrow after my meeting, I thought. I wonder if there's any chance I could find out anything about Lynn there?
Was that what she meant by "Give me a call"?
...to be continued -
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