Jenny doesn’t own days-of-the-week panties.

She’s not that organized. I can imagine her wearing Tuesday on a Friday and wearing Saturday on a Monday. But she does utilize a certain type of lingerie during the workweek and a different style on weekends.

“Come here, you,” I said as she walked through the door on Thursday night.

For work, she chooses streamlined undergarments. Ones that won’t leave unsightly lines or cause ugly bunching.

“Just let me get out of these clothes,” she insisted as she set down her briefcase. I knew what was going to occur next. I’ve watched her arrive home often enough to understand she was about to perform that female magic trick of taking off her bra while leaving her blouse intact. I live for the sigh she emits when she undoes the clasp and lets loose her boobies. But I had to stop her.

“No, wait… Don’t!” My voice was a little louder than either one of us expected. She looked confused.

Jenny’s never realized how sexy I think she looks in her business clothes. Not her workout gear, nor her naughty nighties, but the no-nonsense, zero-frill attire she prefers for her day-to-day look.

“I want to fuck you in that bra and those panties,” I said, and the words came out low and gravelly. There was definitely a throb of desire in my tone, and it made Jenny perk up and take notice. The two of us have a deeply sensual relationship, but this was a new request. She watched me with interest, those brown eyes of hers narrowing and flashing sparks.

I pulled her close to me and ran my hands up and down her petite body. She was wearing one of her favorite blouses, white with tiny blue dots. It was tucked into a snug-fitting skirt that accentuated the curves of her hips. To complete the outfit, she wore sensible heels — but no hose. How scandalous! I could see her in my mind moving through her workday. All formality with her coworkers. She keeps her real self under wraps.

I was ready to unwrap her slowly.

We kissed first, and I felt the slick sensation of her lipstick and breathed in the subtle aroma of her expensive perfume. Then I stepped back and began to undo the row of tiny buttons running down the front of her silky blouse. Jenny leaned against the wall and let me undress her. She cooed as I kissed her right below her earlobe. She hadn’t even taken off her shoes. I was thrilled.

Fuck fuck-me pumps. Those classy navy heels had my libido soaring! I spun her around so she was facing the wall, and I pulled her blouse off her shoulders. The bra she had on beneath was exactly what I’d fantasized about. Other men might have thought the beige garment with no lace was dull, but not me. There was nothing to get in the way, not even a rosette in the front. I cupped her generous tits from behind, fingering them through the soft fabric. She grew totally still.

“I love the way you look in this,” I said, nuzzling her neck, then working to unzip her skirt and letting it fall to the floor. I pulled her blouse the rest of the way off. She remained facing away from me, adorned only in her plain white panties and beautifully boring bra. She looked at me over her shoulder.

“You really like this?” she asked.

I answered by pressing my body against hers so she could feel my hard-on. I didn’t simply like what she had on. I was consumed with desire for her.

Okay, so there’s nothing inherently sexual about her clothes. What sets me aflame is the way she acts when she wears them. All business. No pleasure. But I was finding pleasure — that was momentarily my business. I went on my knees and kissed her heart-shaped ass through those plain panties. I got down lower and licked her in-between parts through the crotch. I pulled the panties firmly against her and nibbled on her pussy lips right through the semi-translucent material.

Jenny didn’t have any words after that. I tongued her pussy through that fabric, which quickly got soaked with her juices and my spit. She leaned against the wall and thrust her box back against my mouth. I stood once more and slid a hand down her panties. Fingering her clitoris and holding her to me, I whispered to her, telling her how much I appreciated her panties.

“Sometimes when you’re gone, I stroke myself with them,” I told her in a rush as I rubbed her swollen clit. She put a hand back against the wall as I bit her neck. “I grab the pair you’ve left on the floor, and I jack my cock with them.”

Jenny mewed as I spoke. I hadn’t necessarily been planning on confessing to her, but her reaction to my words spurred me on. She seemed positively electrified.

“Sometimes,” I continued, “I bring a pair to work. I use them in the men’s room, pressing them up to my face while I jerk my meat.”

Her knees buckled. I caught her and slowly set her down on the floor, spreading her out on the varnished wood. I still had my fingers in her panties, pressing my digits inside her, determined to bring her to orgasm right there in the hall before we retreated further into the apartment.

“I never take your satin panties,” I explained. “Never the lace ones. I always take the ones like these. The plain cotton ones. I picture you at work, walking through the halls of your office, looking so polished and professional. All I want to do is make you dirty, mess you up.”

She came, crying out my name as a powerful climax crashed over her in shocking waves. I took her in my arms and carried her to the bedroom, feeling the quivers of her pleasure flicker through her whole body.

I climbed on the bed with her and began stroking her crotch through the wet fabric.

“But why?” she asked. “Tell me why you like these.”

She still seemed mildly amazed — if not amused — that I was finding her workaday panties so spectacular.

I tried to get my point across as I cupped her tits through her brassiere. Her breasts looked buoyant in this bra. It’s not that they don’t stand out in her lacy garments, but this was different. I searched for the right way to explain. My dick was trying to tell her for me. I was harder than rock, and I wanted to be in her, but I didn’t want her out of the clothes. I tugged the center of the panties to the side and let my cockhead rap against her clit. She groaned and swivelled on the bed.

“You have no clue,” I said, “no idea. “You act differently when you’re wearing them.”

“Different how?”

“All business,” I said, and her eyes lit slightly.

“That’s what you like?”

I nodded, and then suddenly she seemed to understand.

“Fuck me,” she demanded, her voice sounding the way it does when I call her at the office in the middle of a busy day. All business. “Fuck me now!”

I pulled the panties out of the way and thrust my cock inside her.

“That’s right,” she said. “Fuck me as hard as you can!”

I pounded into her, sealing our bodies together and gyrating my hips so she could feel the full length of me fill her up.

“I want you to use these panties tomorrow. Take them with you. They’ll be so, so dirty.”

She’d gotten it! Dirty, so dirty, when she seemed so clean. That’s what got me off. I shot off inside her, losing my breath yet finding my bliss. She lay next to me afterward, and she told me my come was dripping out of her, drenching her perfect panties.

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