Sammy's Panties Pt. 03

The third part of the story about Sammy the beautiful sexy Venezuelan girl that had come to share the apartment that I lived in, in Spain. Sammy's Panties and Sammy's Panties Part. 02 precede this story in content. Finally, in Part. 03 my fascination with her lingerie and her naughty ways come to collide for our mutual pleasure.

I found my way out of the hypermarket through the shopping complex and into the fresh air of the October sunshine. My head cleared after all the espionage in which I had indulged and a spring came to my step as I headed up the Gran Via. Suddenly I was humming the tune to the song 'My Mammy', covered by the great Al Jolson. Great at least since both Bing Crosby and David Bowie have cited him as an influence.

Sammy,

My little Sammy,

I'd walk a million miles,

For one of your smiles,

My Sammy! Oh-oh-oh

I was so pleased with myself that I began to whistle the tune loudly. To pronounce my joy to all the world and smug in the knowledge that it was only I that knew I had knickers to match those of my horny flatmate. Sure, not her knickers, her naughty little thongs but at least identical to the ones she had selected. I could wear the same panties beneath my trousers as she might be wearing beneath her clothes and I loved the idea of having that common ground between us.

Community with her really meant sliding my cock inside her and wrestling with her hot athletic body but as an older guy somehow it doesn't seem quite right for me to interfere with a young woman who has all her life to live when I've already lived much of mine. However male biology does not share this guilt and in the presence of a smoking, receptive, fertile female it really doesn't give a shit but demands babies. Hence the requirement for something in a society that operates in our psyche that we term morality.

Displacement behaviour. Can't have her cunt. Then the only way to get into her panties is literally to put them on. Wear them. Taking it a bit further, were it the case that she might insist that I wear her panties then that would be like her consent to a community, her permission to share something of herself with me, negating my problem of imposing on her youthful idealism.

.

This is kinky so I need a kinky woman.

I knew nothing really about Sammy, she was new to the flat. She had consented that I show her around the local sights so that was a positive for my self-esteem and I was proud that a luscious young lady was prepared to accompany me, she had the confidence to trust me that far. That was the long and the short of everything I had to go on.

It was early evening when I arrived back at the apartment and as it was a Friday night a few souls had already begun to collect around the doors of the small bar close to our building. I went indoors and up to my room where I took my treasured purchases from my bag and placed them carefully into the panty drawer next to my bed. I'd had enough crazy sexual wantonness for one day so I decided to join the fold at the bar and indulge. The day was a success, nothing more to be achieved.

I was sat watching the footie with the rest of the Celta Vigo hooligans. I felt very comfortable with them. Young and enthusiastic and rebellious suits me. The electronic darts board by the door was buzzing and I was amused that one of the lads playing would engage the big button that signalled the end of a round by bending from the waist and depressing the button with a quick smack of his forehead. Silly Sod.

Then an anxious, searching face appeared in the doorway and I was thrilled and I reciprocated when it smiled at me because it was Sammy.

"Mart," she called and came straight towards me at my table.

"I forgot my keys, they are in my coat pocket in the hallway," she said.

"Shit me too, I was waiting for you or Marisol to let me in," I lied.

Her relief evaporated but I couldn't bear her predicament so immediately I responded,

"Only joking dear," and I held up my keys for her.

She snatched the keys from me telling me that she would bring them back later. Her face informed me that I was a fucking bastard for the momentary deception but I'm sure that she thoroughly enjoyed my ruse. Her arse wound it's way back through the congregation towards the door clad in her pharmacist's trousers and it was illuminated by the light shining from many hungry pairs of eyes.

I spent some time reflecting on the converse of the situation. What if I had been borrowing Sammy's keys, then I could have quickly sneaked into her room, rifled through her laundry basket and stolen something intimate and aromatic. I would have been very happy if she had wanted to 'borrow' some of my underpants but it wasn't very likely.

Some two hours passed before Sammy returned to the bar. By then the place was hopping helped in large part by the screening of the replay of the recent game in which the local club had wasted Barcelona to the tune of four goals to one. Sure hashish and cocaine were playing their part as well as the alcohol but they were a good crowd and everyone knew everyone else. Safe, exciting, edgy fun. Punks, skins, mods and the odd old English geezer with a touch of youthful Venezuela thrown in for good measure. Really, really good measure.

Sammy went straight to the bar and gesticulating with her finger she pointed repeatedly to her open mouth whilst engaging my eyes. Was she suggesting to give me a blowjob or was she intending to request if I would like to take a drink? I decided on the latter option just to be on the safe side.

"Whisky solo, no ice," I bawled above the noise of the throng of the hooligans.

Sammy was now wearing her red and purple check shirt and jean shorts with a Harrington jacket. On her feet she wore grey trainers with pink stripes. Her hair remained in pigtails which she had pinned around the crown of her head. She had little difficulty sitting down opposite me on a crowded bench which suddenly and miraculously became capable of seating one more person. I had witnessed the parting of the Red Sea.

We wished each other good health in harmony as our glasses clashed seemingly noiselessly below the rancour of the revelry. The guy I was sat next to, Ander had a good natural command of a moderately large English vocabulary. His grammar was good. I was telling him that I was an early retiree and with a limited budget, I could do more or less do what the fuck I liked.

Within moments Sammy was approached by a guy with a clutch of darts in his hand and she was whisked away to join in the competition. I was happy just to sit and watch her. Each time she composed herself to throw a dart she would shift her feet about and separate her beautiful legs. Her lovely little unsupported titties would hang down inside her shirt and she would push her arse behind her to balance her posture. That was all the entertainment I needed. I just sat there feeling totally enchanted and content. Later when I was smoking in the street Sammy came outside to join me for a ciggy. Her pigtails had gone, she had literally let her hair down and she looked very relaxed and jubilant.

"Looks like you won?" I enquired.

"Won Mart, won what?" she requested

"Won at darts Sammy," I said.

"No Mart I'm not very good at darts. I threw one in the back of a boy's leg, he screamed in pain but when he turned round to see who had done it he was really nice about it. It was strange, he even bought me a drink," explained Sammy.

I didn't find it strange, perfectly normal in fact. I would have done the same and would have felt equally glad to have such a golden opportunity to speak with the beautiful little thing. The fact that she kind of owed me for wounding me might even come in handy. I decided I might even have left a leg exposed if I had noticed her playing that badly. Maybe wear a 'T' shirt with 'Wound Me Please', written on it.

"Crazy day, Mart, said Sammy.

I raised my head interrogatively.

My boss at the Pharmacy has been a lot of trouble ever since I began to work there," she admitted.

"But that's just a couple of weeks isn't it, two days last week and two days this week wasn't it?" I sought confirmation.

"Four long days, Mart, he's been touching me and saying very bad things to me whenever no one else is looking. He said that I had to do what he said or he make me a bad report for the University."

"Well then, there must be someone responsible for listening to these issues within the University, surely?" I questioned.

"It's already sorted, Mart. I also had this problem when I was waitressing in Venezuela, there was always some guy that thought he was entitled to harass me, so I knew what to do, Sammy informed me.

She added, I thought I would confront this myself. I have to tidy the store on Fridays at the back of the shop. Last week he came into the store and started touching me and saying very dirty things to me. So this week I was prepared for him."

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, I have been working out at the gym at the university a lot this week. I was wearing the same sports knickers and socks all the time for a reason. On Wednesday I participated in a circus of exercises with two of the guys that are always hitting on me and that I really quite like. Being close to them and smelling their manly sweat made me very horny and I creamed my little sports panties, admitted Sammy.

I looked at her with some astonishment at her frankness and with enquiring eyes and she went on,

Then on Friday after a horrible day with the Boss on Thursday, I deliberately didn't shower in the morning before work and I put the stinky sports panties and socks on. I could smell myself but I knew it was all for a good cause. Then when the boss told me to go and tidy in the store room I put my plan into action.

I didn't do any tidying, I took my canvas shoes off, and took off my trousers. I put my panties around my ankles and had my feet apart so that the stain in my knickers was very clear to see. I had worn those sweaty clothes throughout the morning they were really humid and smelly. I wanted that the store room would smell of a woman wanting sex. I rested over one of the benches visible from the entrance door with my bottom in the air and waited for him to come in. I waited for a long time then I heard the door handle being moved and I began to moan and started to whimper his name, Gustavo, Gustavo, over and over again. I was pleading that he should put his cock right up me and shoot his sperms all over my bottom.

When he opened the door he could have smelled the smell of a hot woman, he panicked very much. I told him that I needed fucking and was desperate to have his penis in me. I told him that I had wanted him to fuck me profoundly ever since I first met him and he did not have to worry that I would tell his wife. I told him that he shouldn't worry that the other people in the pharmacy would hear me moaning from the shop.

When I mentioned his wife and that there were other people that might discover his dirty idea it must have really terrified him as I had planned to and even before I saw him he very quietly closed the door and ran away.

Later when Ana the counter assistant went to the toilet he came up to me and was very scared. He told me quietly that he would never bother me again, apologised a lot and said that he would give me a very good report for the University. He really didn't know what had made him like that, he said. Job done, Sammy said triumphantly with a glorious smile on her face.

One other thing, she informed me. I told him I'm having a week off so he will have to do without me next week. I think I'll go to Madrid," she said.

"Well, thanks for sharing that with me Sammy, that's quite a story," I opinioned.

I hugged her and was giggling for quite some time before I let her go. I disappeared into the bar and returned with two tequila shots. I proposed a toast to 'girl power' and we downed the shots in one.

I couldn't help feeling somewhat confounded that I could have been some anonymous delivery boy with a boring driving job on a shit wage with nothing to lose and was charged with carrying the pharmaceutical deliveries to the store room. Everything she had described, her availability for a good stuffing in a sea of her own aroma was everything I craved.

I left the bar. Sammy was surrounded by an adoring crowd of fellow male darts competitors. I went straight to bed and mused over what an amazing day it had been before I slipped into deep sleep.

-----

The following day, Saturday, I awoke early with a stiffy. I must have been dreaming about Sammy's state of dress when her boss arrived at the store room. I wanted to wank thinking about her in her soiled underwear surprised by the delivery boy. I reached into my panty drawer at the side of my bed and pulled out both pairs of the red lacey panties that I had purchased at the hypermarket the day before. I selected between them for the pair with the label that read L and then from the bottom drawer of the chest I reached for my nail clippers and cut the shop tag out of those frothy dainty panties. I put them on . Then I removed the shop tag from the smaller pair of panties, size S.

I fantasised that I was actually wearing Sammy's panties, after all, I knew she had an identical pair. My cock began to rapidly unfurl and soon I was pulling at my shaft whilst I held the frothy material of the smaller sized lacy panties, (those that I might substitute for the identical ones she had bought) to my face. It wasn't long before I shot my lot into my panties and then feeling rather stupid as one does, quickly rolled out of bed and put on my dressing gown.

I made my way down the corridor to the shower room and I could not help but notice that Sammy had left her canvas work shoes by the front door and more importantly they were stuffed with white cotton ankle socks. Surely not the sporty pair that she had used as part bait for her lascivious boss. I could hear water running as I approached the shower and I identified Sammy in there because she was speaking on her mobile phone. It was regularly a problem that the shower room was occupied at the beginning of the day particularly as the only toilet was also located there.

"The fucking youth of today," I muttered to myself.

I decided to have breakfast and went into the kitchen to prepare it. After tucking into some scrambled eggs and whilst standing at the sink to do my washing up, I heard the shower door open and then close and the flip-flop of slippers on the corridor floor that were approaching the kitchen door. I turned to see that Sammy was standing in the doorway on one leg, she was dressed in a luxurious red towelling robe that matched her slippers and another towel that she had fashioned into a turban about her hair. She had withdrawn her other foot from her slipper and was sliding the sole of it up and down the calf of her supporting leg. I could hear the faint sound of skin rubbing against skin.

"Hi Marti, how are you," she asked.

"Yip, not so bad, but do me a favour darling, how about just washing in there in the mornings and not broadcasting to the world, I'm dying for a leak," I remonstrated.

"Sorry Marti, my cousin had her exam results yesterday, I really needed to find out if she passed, she did. I'm going to Madrid for the week," Sammy informed me as I passed her on my way to the toilet. I was wondering, as old gits do, why it was necessary to gather such information whilst showering but I requested,

"Hang about and tell me about Madrid, I'll be back in a mo."

Suddenly I was being much less formal with Sammy. The fact that she had entrusted me with her goings on in her workplace had made me feel like I was her trusted confidant. The period when we had just been two people sharing the same flat was a thing of the past, we had begun to be friends. I noticed that my name had changed and I wasn't 'Mart' anymore but had become 'Marti'. Nobody had ever called me Marti before and I was glad she had her own pet name for me.

Whilst standing at the pan and enjoying my delivery to the porcelain, those little cotton socks that were stuffed into her canvas shoes re-entered my mind and I hoped, for heaven's sake, that they might still be there when she left for Madrid.

When I arrived back in the kitchen, Sammy was feeding sliced bread into the toaster. She had her back to me and I desperately wanted to walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. Let my mouth and nose linger around her neck and enjoy all her fragrance, even if it would just be that of her shower gel.

"So what's this about Madrid," I asked her.

"It's a dream come true Marti. My cousin, Angel, is studying there at the moment until June. I didn't think I could get the time off but because my dirty boss underestimated me, suddenly I have the chance. I'm going by bus, it's too late to get a cheap flight but it's okay. I've already got to know a lot of his friends on facebook and they are all really looking forward to meeting me," Sammy said with a twinkle in her eye.

It occurred to me that she would be unlikely to leave Madrid without conceiving. Her cousin's friends, mostly men I assumed, would probably interpret meeting her in the most intimate possible way, aware of her staggering looks as the sharing of photos on facebook is common place.

She was going to have a wonderful time and I was really pleased for her. It was very likely that on their way to getting into her pants her cousin's friends would do everything they could to accommodate and impress her. Show her a really good time.

"I have a problem Marti, my clothes are getting really mouldy in my room. It's humid at this time of year. I keep my drawers open and the door of the wardrobe too and I keep the window open when the weather is fine and sunny. Marisol told me that there is a dehumidifier machine in the flat but I don't know where it is. Have you seen it, Marti," she enquired.

"I have it in my room Sammy, I put it on when I'm drying my clothes on my drying rack but it's no problem, your need is greater than mine. I'll go and get it for you," I told her.

When I returned Sammy was sat at the kitchen table and spreading a hazelnut chocolate spread copiously onto her toast. She was a picture of happiness. I was carrying the bucket that served to collect the condensed water from the dehumidifier in my hand and went to the sink to empty it, before going over to the table and placing it there.

"You just need to put the bucket inside, switch the machine on and Bob's your uncle," I said to her intending to confuse her. It worked.

"Bob my uncle," requested Sammy with curiosity.

"Yes, Bob's your uncle, Fanny's your aunt and another more contemporary expression is that something is 'easy-peasy'. They're all expressions that people use in England to say that something is simple. The bucket won't fill up in just one week so all is cool," I told her.

Sammy always spoke to me in English and she was better at speaking my language than I was hers. Anyway, I had no academic ambition for speaking Spanish only that I wanted to be polite to the people of my host country. I wanted to contribute to her young life because I thought her a great human being, worthy of support, oh yes and because I fancied her like crazy.

Marisol and her boyfriend Javi had left their room and were on their way to the shower and greeted the two of us as they passed. They spoke to Sammy who told them about her impromptu visit to Madrid. I was able to discern that they were enquiring at what time Sammy would leave. That they would have the opportunity to say goodbye to her and advise her about some of the interesting places that she should visit. We had a very convivial household.

Sammy finished her breakfast. She had chocolate spread on her face and on her robe.