“Well done, panty-lover. You’ve bought yourself some more time.

Did you love wearing your girlfriend’s scanties all day? Now I want to see you taking the next step, so dress in stockings, suspenders and panties. 

I dare you to purchase this lingerie for yourself. You’d better, otherwise I’ll send your girlfriend the pictures I took.

Next Friday, same drill as before. No room for failure.”

---

The most recent blackmail note I'd crafter left time for Rick to purchase the items specified. I suspected he chose the easy option and shopped online. Whatever he did, he hid all evidence successfully. 

I’d indicated in my work’s diary that I would be visiting a prospective customer on Friday. However, when 9:15 that morning rolled around, I was in fact hidden in my car a couple of streets away from home.

Once again my hidden camera was sending live feed to my phone. My heart was in my mouth as a rectangle of light appeared on the screen, signifying that Rick had drawn the curtains in our living room. When he came into frame, the rays of morning light highlighted the lattice of black threads hugging his muscled legs. I squealed with delight when I saw the fishnets — my favourite! His legs looked incredibly sexy; I’d guess he must have shaved them this morning. I longed to run my hands up his legs to his muscled thighs and over the thicker, black stocking band which encircled each one. I felt delighted, tingling with excitement that he was getting so invested in this challenge. There seemed every chance he was having as much fun with this kinky teasing as I was! 

Like before, Rick was not shy as he stood and posed in front of the window, proving to his blackmailer that he’d complied with instructions. My eyes travelled past the defined bulge of his quad muscles to the expanse of bare thigh flesh broken only by the front and rear straps of the garter belt he’d purchased. A peplum voile rippled around his hips, flared out like something a ballerina wears, bringing a femininity to his torso which enchanted me. There were accents of pastel pink on his black garter belt, a pink bow at the front, another at the top of each strap while pink stitching decorated the front panel. Underneath this dainty item, he wore black panties to match. What a fabulous, frivolous item it was! I guess Rick was drawn to its exaggerated femininity; it was so much girlier than anything I owned.

I swallowed, taking in this vista of proud sexuality. When my man turned sideways, I glimpsed the unmistakable bulge of his cock trapped underneath the sheer fabric. I felt such a twitch of excitement in my cunt as I laid eyes on all the promise contained in his lazy hard-on that my gusset was instantly damp. His length was held tightly captive inside those charming black knickers. Its tip was directed towards his hip and nestled just under the pale pink ribbon, which threaded in and out, decorating the waistline of the bikini panties.

I groaned quietly to myself; his package looked like a beautifully wrapped gift. If I was in the room right then I’d have knelt in front of him with my mouth open, begging Rick to use me. I loved to pull down the waistband of his underwear and let his cock spill out, bouncing to its full length before I sheathed it eagerly in my warm mouth. I could almost taste the mild, salty slip of his pre-cum as I imagined drawing the heat of him into my mouth and laving the underside of his frenulum with my tongue. In his absence, I cupped my breasts under my blouse, pinching my taut nipples through the lacy cups, sending stabs of desire down to my pussy, which was already throbbing in appreciation of my view. I pressed my legs together and enjoyed feeling the waves of pleasure concentrate in my heated core.

Rick cupped his bulge with coarse hands and I wondered how that fragile fabric felt to his capable fingers. Sometimes when I wore sheer stockings, which he loved, they didn’t last more than one wear because his stroking and tugging hands tended to cause snags and tears. He’d made a smart move to choose fishnets for himself, they were much more forgiving. Plus the way they enhanced his musculature was undeniably sexy; the reason they are worn by cabaret and burlesque dancers. They shaded and emphasised his firm thighs while the generous curve of his strong calf muscles, tapering down to quite a shapely ankle. Rick’s demeanour was confident, almost peacocking as he did everything to make sure that his challenge-setting peeping Tom would see clear evidence he was following instructions. 

When the time was up, he turned away from the window and left the room.

I felt such an anticlimax that it was over. My pussy was wet but unsatisfied, my breasts ached, heavy with lust. The sexy show my boyfriend just gave for me had my motor revving, with nowhere to go, but it was delicious too, the torment of yearning and not getting instant gratification. I drove to work and went through the motions all day, but my mind kept wandering back to Rick’s sexy black get-up and how I might get him to wear it again.

It wasn’t until I was at the gym that evening that inspiration hit. 

I knew I was stretching the limits of the rules I’d set, but once I’d thought of a new challenge for him, I couldn’t wait to implement it. I created the text of my next blackmail letter on my phone, knowing I could print it off at home when Rick was out of the house.

“Nicely done, panty-lover. Your choice of outfit was classy.

Now I dare you to take your fetish outside your comfort zone. Leave the house with women’s underwear beneath your usual clothes. Visit the large out of town supermarket dressed as you were today.

Use the changing rooms to remove your trousers, then take a selfie in the privacy of the cubicle. Prove the authenticity of the picture, hold a copy of the newspaper so the date is visible, don’t obscure your lingerie.

Send your picture here.”

I created a new email address and included it in the letter, which I printed off and slipped into another plain envelope addressed to “The Mechanic.”  Once again I left it on the doormat so Rick would think it came through the letterbox that night, while we were in bed. 

All my plotting and subterfuge had my heart beating pretty fast by the time I got into bed with him that night. He rolled on his side to cuddle me, as usual. However, I soon squirmed out of his grip to slither down under the covers. I had been longing to worship his delicious cock since watching him parading around dressed like something from a burlesque show earlier that morning. As I nuzzled into the heat of his groin I inhaled his familiar musky fragrance.

“Yes, girl,” he growled as my plump lips encircled the tip of his penis, his capable hands tangling in my hair to guide me. “What’s got you so greedy?” he murmured with satisfaction. 

Without answering I bobbed and dipped on his engorged member, leaving tracks of drool as I sucked and licked, pleasuring him with my mouth.

“Face or chest?” he managed to grunt later, as his climax neared. 

I pulled off him reluctantly and leaned back, pressing my boobs together. I created a cavernous landscape for his ejaculate, which followed shortly, propelled as ropes of creamy liquid.

“Hey, I’ve got enough for both,” Rick chuckled as he pumped his foreskin, coaxing those few last dribbles onto my chin. 

I grinned and flicked my tongue out to lick at the pearly fluid.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled fondly before kissing me, long and deep, swirling his tongue with mine to taste himself.

He bent his head to my breasts, coated as they were with his sticky cum, to lap and lick my pebbled nipples. He sucked to make them shine and strain, then blew gently over the wetness which made them tingle. I swiped at my cleavage with my fingers to scoop up his fluid, feeding it to myself. I sighed at the sensations which were now radiating out from my breasts thanks to Rick’s ministrations. He was laving with the flat of his tongue around my under-breast which felt heavenly. When he commenced suckling one nipple at a time, I groaned aloud at the urgent need building in my core. He alternated from one to the other, making them engorged and distended which was delicious torture. 

“Bite them, please,” I moaned, squirming my bottom into the bed.

“I call the shots here girl,” he growled, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “Touch your pussy, spread your wetness around.” He instructed, and I responded with alacrity.

My labia were swollen, they felt sumptuous and cushiony as I stroked my fingers between them to paint my hot little bean with the gloss of my arousal. Each nibble and suck delivered to my nipples seemed to echo in my clit. I pushed my hips upward in a tilt, rubbing two fingers over and around it, and was rewarded with pleasure sensations and heat.

“Oh, Rick,” I groaned and writhed as I ran the fingers of my other hand through his hair. “I can’t -”

“Can’t what, my greedy girl? Can’t wait? Can’t take any more? You can and you will. Stop touching.” He instructed.

When I removed my hand from my liquefying pussy, he took both of them above my head and held them firmly, while he set to work sucking and biting with increasing intensity. He tugged on each nipple, elongating it, before letting it spring back. The pressure inside me was building; I thrashed my head from side to side making incoherent noises.

Suddenly, Rick shifted positions. Sliding down my body, he latched his hot lips around my straining clit, sucking and nibbling as he’d been doing to torment my aereola.

The explosion of my climax was instant. It burst, in the pinks and reds of Fourth of July fireworks, over my body. My hips strained up to his face, thrusting at his mouth. The pleasure was intense, almost too much. I squealed my release as his strong arms held me down. I needed that anchor. I felt I was shattering into pieces as the waves of pleasure pounded through my body.

My mind showed me fragmented images of Rick sheathing his cock with silk panties as he came, stroking himself through lace knickers while he stood at the window and bending, to show me a rear view as he smoothed his black fishnets up his strong legs. My own legs were shaking and weak as a new-born foal, so he removed his mouth and held me until the aftershocks abated. After cleaning ourselves up, we snuggled into a spoon position and fell asleep.

---

Next morning I stirred when Rick did, but I let him go downstairs to make us cups of tea so that he could discover the latest blackmail note. He seemed pretty nonchalant when he came back upstairs, but when we talked about our plans for the day he said he had an errand to run in the morning.

“Me too,” I said with faux innocence. “I want to inquire about piercing at that salon in town.” I paused for a reaction, but his face was clouded with distraction. “So how about I meet you for lunch somewhere?”

He gave no indication that he registered I was finally taking the step of getting my nipples pierced. “I’ll text you when I’m free then,” was all he said. 

This final lingerie challenge was obviously a big deal for him.

I left the house first, with a plan to wait up the road until I saw him drive off. I gave him a 15-minute lead, before driving towards the out-of-town supermarket too. Rick’s quite a creature of habit, so it was easy to spot where his car was parked. I hustled into the supermarket in time to see him buy a copy of the Daily Times at the newspaper kiosk. 

Keeping my distance, I watched Rick go into the clothes section and select a pair of jeans which he took to the shop assistant manning the changing rooms. Throwing a pair of pyjamas I didn’t intend to buy into my empty wire basket, I got closer. I heard her direct him to the changing room at the end of the row. I followed silently, several meters behind and she pointed me to a cubicle nearby. 

Now for the tricky bit. I could see my boyfriend’s shoes just below the curtain so, from the safety of my cubicle across the aisle, I watched him remove his shoes, and was delighted to note he’d worn the fishnet stockings without any socks over them - he was getting bolder by the day! When his jeans crumpled at his feet in a heap of denim, he stepped out of them.

I took a peek back along the aisle between the changing rooms, checking the coast was clear. I then crossed the aisle and pulled his curtain aside, before darting into the tiny cubicle to join him.

He was wearing a black singlet, his arm and shoulder muscles defined from manual work and looking fine. Despite already having seen his panty and garter belt combination on the screen of my phone, it was truly thrilling to behold them in the flesh. The way the black knickers hugged his curves and obscured, without hiding, the furled length of his penis was so sexy. I admired the fluted fabric of the garter belt skimming his hips whilst straining to hold up the mesh of those black fishnet stockings at the wider part of his thighs. He looked so divine it brought a lump to my throat and a tingle to my pussy.

He’d been poised to take a selfie, with his phone up and the newspaper positioned to display today’s date, but when I burst in he clutched them both to his chest.

To say Rick was astounded would be an understatement. He was noticeably shocked to see me there, surveying him in all his cross-dressing glory. I could smell the sharp scent of the newsprint, mixed with pine notes of the aftershave I bought him for his birthday.

“What the f-” he started. 

I clamped my hand over his mouth. The last thing we wanted was the shop assistant coming to see what all the fuss was about.

“Darling, you look delicious!” I crooned, removing my hand and kissing him until I felt him relax a little.

“What? How did you know I was here?” Rick asked, his emotions still flashing between panic and confusion.

“I know your little secret…” I smiled, then held my phone at arm’s length to take a selfie of me and my sexy man.  “C’mon, smile for me. Panty-lover,” I added as I went cheek to cheek with him and clicked the button on my phone.

“I don’t do this all the time.” Rick was anxious, his handsome face etched with worry.

“I don’t mind if you do,” I smiled, “I love watching you, it’s so hot! I want to help if I can.”

As I talked to him, in a low voice, my hands roamed over his very male landscape, admiring how it looked adorned with typically female underwear. 

“Look at all this gorgeousness,” I commented. Stroking the bulge of his panties. I cupped a silk-clad buttock. “Where did you get these things? I’d love some the same. Would that be fun, if we both wore the same lingerie?” 

Rick was still dumbfounded by the realisation that I knew about his kink and was neither shocked nor disgusted.

“I know you loved doing this in secret,” I whispered, trailing my fingernail around the puckered skin of his nipple. “I imagine it added to the thrill, but now that I know about it, we can explore so many more avenues. Please, let’s bring your kink into the bedroom, darling. I have never come so hard as I do when I watch you enjoy yourself in my lingerie.”

“You like it?” he questioned, his eyes locked onto mine.

“Yeah,” I nodded enthusiastically, drawing his hand under my top, “feel how hard my nipples are right now.”

“How long have you known?” he asked.

“Let’s get out of here, so I can get you up to speed.” 

I felt like the cat who got the cream as we sauntered out of the changing room together. Rick and I linked arms and went for an early lunch. That’s when I told him the whole story. How I came home and caught him pleasuring himself with my panties and everything that had happened since then. I showed him the videos I had on my phone of him parading around in lingerie for the faux-peeper and I confessed just how horny it had made me, even to the point of masturbating out in the open as I watched him pleasure himself.

“Do you forgive me for blackmailing you?” I asked him, genuinely worried that he might not see that I’d done it out of kindness.

“I’ll admit I was shit scared at first, but only because I thought you would reject me once you realised what I was into. Are you really cool with it?”

“Of course I’m cool with it! More than that, I’m turned on by it. Have you not been listening?” I searched his face.

“We have had some great sex recently…” A wolfish grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I guess you have been a horny little minx lately.”

I punched his arm in retaliation and tried to hide my blush. It was true, I couldn’t deny it. My knickers were slick right now from re-telling the story. 

“I think you owe me something for playing such a dirty trick on me,” Rick said, pulling out some notes to pay for lunch and dragging me out of my seat.

“What do I owe you?” I asked, puzzled.

“You owe me a pair of pierced nipples. Let’s get to that piercing salon.”

I giggled, feeling a heady mix of excitement and nerves. “Whatever you say, Panty-lover.”

/Shutterstock