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The seething passions that lurk within many individuals are often hidden beneath a veneer of normalcy, exposed only under extremely tempting conditions.
The woman who, after a few drinks at a party, takes on all comers, male and female alike. The man who, during a strip show at a stag party, climbs up on stage with the girl and performs with her in front of his friends. The couple who, under group pressure, join the neighborhood mate-traders. Marcy Russell is one of these outwardly proper and quite normal people. But within her, a love of perversity and a depth of passion she never dreamed existed lie coiled like snakes, waiting only for the proper stimulus to arouse them.
After paying off Peggy, the babysitter who stayed with her son when she went out at night, Marcy checked on him.
Neil was sprawled across his bed, sound asleep. His dim night light was on, casting a soft glow over his young body. He wore only the bottom part of his pajamas. Her eyes went soft with love for him and she stepped into his room to kiss his forehead.
She leaned down and paused.
Picking up the lacy garment that was beside her sleeping son’s head, Marcy looked at it in I the dim light. It was a pair of girl’s panties, very frilly, the bikini type. They certainly weren’t hers, she knew. Looking down at her son, she wondered where he had gotten them. He looked too young to even be thinking about girl’s panties.
Marcy took the lacy panties and looked at them in the brighter light of the living room. They were white nylon with scarlet hearts along the crotch. She stared at the panties, wondering. Bringing them close to her nose, she sniffed. There was the scent of cunt on the crotch.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.