PANTY STORY # 15
Silly Little Surreal Pink Panty Talking Cat Story
"The Pink Pantied Meter Reader"
"I didn't expect you," John said, smiling at the woman in the red hat and cloak.
"Obviously, or you wouldn't be in your bathrobe. I came to read your meter."
"I won't be a minute. Make yourself at home." John ducked into the bathroom.
Red spotted a pack of cigarettes on one of the twenty folding chairs and helped herself, but after three puffs, she put it out. She hadn't expected to catch John this way. It spoiled her entrance.
"Want me to scrub your back?" Her hand was on the doorknob.
"Why not?" She walked in and knelt to scrub his back. First she soaped the washcloth and began to rub his neck.
"Came to read the meter did you?" Her perfume mixed into the soap smell. Her smooth hands, her soft and supple fingers, the warm wet cloth, the slippery soap, her hands, his hands, her back, the perfume made him wonder if he could keep breathing. What color panties was she wearing? He raised his head to look into her eyes.
She put down the cloth, grabbed his head in both hands, and kissed him. The touch of her lips, her wet fingers, the warm water, the delicate perfume, and the sensual tongue inside his mouth primed a torpedo that had been growing for some time.
John threw his slippery arms around Red's neck and returned the kiss. She looked into the soapy water and saw the pink top
"What's that?"
"That's my toy boat. Want to play with my naval vessels?"
She looked into his eyes, kissed him again, rubbed her fingers up and down his arms and said, "I don't want to get in too deeply."
Then she stood up, and when she stepped over the edge of the tub, he saw above the tops of her black stockings that she was wearing pink silk panties. The woman straddling his body was wearing pink silk panties and she didn't seem to mind that he was looking up her skirt. She smiled as she straddled John's body. The soap bubbles came to within an inch of her boot tops. His wet fingers moved slowly up her stockinged thighs, finding the pink silk panties with the lacy leg and waist bands, and he said, "Come on in. The water's fine."
She slid down on top of him, feeling the warm water crawl over the tops of her boots. As she spread her knees on either side of him, her red pleated skirt ballooned out, settling first on top of the water and then slowly wetting and sinking. His body levitated to meet hers as the torpedo found its way around the lacy legband of her panties. She settled on top in a motion deliberate and slow. Not a drop splashed out of the tub. He tried rubbing his hands on the sensuous and silky waist band of her panties.
John's hands, controlled by a will nearer his navel than his brain, began soaping her white blouse, rubbing the warm suds over her breasts, over her spread thighs, down her back. Red's lips met John's for a long time, and she began whimpering little animal sounds, unable to articulate and unwilling to let her lips leave his honeyed mouth. He unbuttoned the back of her blouse and unsnapped her bra, and when he pulled her clothing off he cupped her breasts with his warm wet hands, then sucked her erect nipples. It wasn't easy to get her clothes off while she was still in the tub, but John took his time and removed every stitch. Except her panties of course. Red wasn't in a hurry anyway. She looked great in wet pink panties.
"I just came to borrow a cup of sugar," she said.
"Are you sure you've washed the torpedo enough?"
"Maybe once more." She kissed him while her hands made washing motions. And then he made it come to her very slowly and with no splashes over the tub.
* * * * *
She had donned his bathrobe while he was still drying off, and she pulled on a dry pair of silky panties she had brought with her for such emergencies. These were white panties.
"What'll I wear?" he said. She threw him a hand towel and told him it was no time to be modest, so he draped it over his shoulder and made her some coffee while she sat on one of the folding chairs. His earthly goods were a thousand books, hundreds of records and tapes, twenty folding chairs, and a mattress with a very clean cover. "You don't even have a meter," she said.
"It's outside," said a voice. John was in the kitchen.
"What did you say, John?"
"Leave him alone," said the cat. John sat on the folding chair next to Red, and leaning back he put his feet on the chair in front of him.
"Now, Red, straddle John," said the cat. As Red obeyed the cat's command, she heard the phone on a nearby folding chair ring. It was John's mother.
"Hell, Mother," he said. "I mean hello, Mother."
Red, her white panties just an inch from the torpedo, hovered and waited while John was on the phone.
"Oh, my god," said the cat.
Red found the torpedo and John gasped. "Nothing, Mother," he said. "Just the cat is here." Red continued to play with the torpedo. She slipped it under her leg band and used it to probe for the harbor. John moaned. Red moaned.
"Nothing, Mother. It's just the cat."
Red, straddling the torpedo, stuck it into the harbor, all the way in, rocking back and forth until there was imminent danger of explosion.
"I'll call back, Mother. The water is boiling," said John.
When he hung up, he ran his hands over Red's silky ass and said, "What are you doing?"
"Reading the meter," she said.
"If I move," he said, "the chair structure may fold in?"
"Don't move," she said.
"What if I die in this position?"
John moved his bod two inches and the torpedo slammed into home port and made Red scream "Oh my god." Then John's folding chair folded while he was on it. It almost folded him inside holding John's feet folded part way. They were balanced on folded folding chairs. And Red had a stuck torpedo she didn't know what to do with. "I'm harboring a torpedo," she said. "Take it out but don't hurry."
"You put it in," John said. "You take it out."
"No, it's yours. You do it."
"It's wedged pretty tight. I don't think I can."
"Oh my god," said the cat. "Why not use the old truck-stuck-under-the-viaduct trick," he said. "You know, letting the air out of the tires."
"Why a duck?" said John.
"Be serious," said Red.
"Do you think I'm not being serious," said John. "Why would I try to be funny while a fantastic girl in white panties was sitting astride me, jamming my torpedo and not trying to get off?" I wouldn't would I?"
"Would you what?"
"I forgot."
"How about the truck-tire trick?" said the cat.
John looked at Red. "Did you hear something?" he said.
"Not a thing," said Red.
"Good., For a minute I thought the cat was talking."
"Just let the torpedo explode," said Red.
"Shall I just give it a command?"
"Yes."
"O.K., torpedo explode."
"Nothing happened, so try again." "Torpedo explode."
"Try once more."
"It won't work," he said.
"The doorbell's ringing," said the cat.
"Answer it," said John.
"Can't reach the knob," said the cat.
The doorbell rang again.
Red leaned forward, tongue kissed John, and whispered in his ear. She kept whispering until the torpedo exploded.
"It's down now," she said, and she eased herself off.
"Quick, give me my bathrobe and duck into the bathroom," John said. Red grabbed her clothes on the way in, and John answered the door.
"Hi. I'm Diane, your ex-wife," she said.
"I didn't expect you," he said.
"Obviously," she said. "Or you wouldn't be in your bathrobe."
"Make yourself at home," he said. "I won't be a minute." He ducked into the bathroom, where Red was donning some very soggy clothes. She grabbed him by the lapels of the bathrobe and said, "I don't care if you have four wives. Just keep Saturday mornings for me." And with that she marched out, looked at Diane, and stormed through the front door.
"Who was that?" said Diane.
"Little Red Riding Hood, the meter reader," said the cat.
"John, why is the cat talking?"
"Don't all cats talk?"
"Who ever heard of a talking teddy bear?" said the cat. "I think you'd better go."
"She must be more than the meter reader," said Diane.
"She's also a torpedo collector," said the cat.
"In that case I'm leaving," said Diane, closing the door behind her.
John studied his fingernails and looked at the cat. "Nice going," he said.
"Well," said the cat. "What did Red whisper to explode the torpedo?"
"Don't you wish you knew?" John said.
"Does anybody know if anything really happens?" said the cat
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