Well, I've always had a thing for women's panties, specially the lace ones.
This story happened sometime around the year 2000. I had not had sex in months, mainly because I was going through some emotional problems in my life and didn't feel fit or attractice enough to go out and grab women. The fact is, I used to be really shy and inexperienced back then and had made the mistake of falling in love with the wrong person more than once, which was enough to shake my confidence.
I had this neighbour who was probably in her mid to late thirties (we used to exchange a few 'hellos' here and there, but never really engaged in real conversation, so that's a rough guess). She was also mother of two and although you could see that her beauty was starting to wane (probably due to the hardships of life) she had a great body and was more than desirable. Definitely a MILF.
I was in the peak of my sexuality back then and would fantasize about every single woman I happened to find interesting. I used hide behind my window just to watch her handle her daily chores in her beige dress while tried to imagine what it was like to fuck her and feel her juices. The fact that I had not had sex in a long time only added to the fantasy.
We both lived in row houses and the wall that separated our backyards was only high enough to keep out prying eyes. It's very common for people in my country to hang their clothes to dry on clotheslines that criss-cross their backyards, and on that fateful afternoon I spotted a pair of red lace panties that belonged to my neighbour. My heart started to race immediately, as I stopped to assess the situation. Those panties were close to my wall, not close enough to allow me to go for them without some extra effort, but they were definitely at arm's reach and both my perverted mind and lonely soul started wondering whether that was worth the risk or not.
I mean, those panties clearly belonged to my neighbour and I'd love to steal them for one night to feel the texture, the fabric, the smell and fantasize about her, but the stakes were too high. What if I got caught? There would be dire consequences, of course, and my superlative imagination and guilty conscience tried to talk me out of it. I dabbled with the idea for a few minutes before I gave in to my burning desire and decided that I would wait until later that night to carry on with my plan.
Two in the morning and the neighbourhood was dead silent. I snuck out of the house and onto the backyard. I brooded in the dark for a few minutes, to be sure everybody was asl**p and that I wouldn't be caught red handed, gazing at my object of desire. I had reviewed my plan carefully a million times and I knew I had only one shot, and I had to be swift and precise. There was no room for mistakes. Making a mistake would mean that the panties would drop on the floor, in her backyard and completely out of reach and I knew that I wouldn't be able to jump over that wall and retrieve them without alarming the whole block. The panties were firmly hung by a clothespin and if my neighbour found them on the floor the morning after she'd know for sure what had happened. I was scared to death but not even a million sould would talk me out of it: it had to be mine!
I reached out over the wall determined to catch it. The seconds that elapsed really felt like hours, although I knew I had to be quick and precise. I put both my hands on it and felt a shiver as the tip of my fingers touched the delicate fabric. I removed the clothespin and pulled them off the line and over the wall, and quickly ran into my house.
There they were on my table, in all their majesty! I touched and licked the crotch and rubbed them against my face while masturbating and tried to imagine that I was doing the same to her pussy and ass. I was in heaven and the mixture of danger and guilty pleasure was inebriating. I put them around my dick and jerked off twice, being careful enough to take put them back on my face just before cumming very hard. Honestly, two of the best I've had.
But it was time to put them back in place. I had studied the exact location and position where I'd taken them and was pretty sure that nobody would ever suspect anything. I put them back as swiftly and precisely as I could and made sure that nothing was out of place. It was also very late and I knew that nobody had heard or seen me. 'Mission accomplished', I thought and went to bed a happy man.
On the day after my little stunt nothing really traspired, and I was relieved because that probably meant I had been careful enough. My neighbour had removed all her clothes from the clothes lines and not a word had been said but I was a bit sad: although the experience from the night before had been intense I knew I wouldn't get that lucky again.
I resigned and tried not to think about it until the next morning when I was swept off my feet as I walked into the backyard. There they were, the red lace panties! But what really struck me was the fact that not only were they even closer to the wall but were hanging there all by themselves! How? I had been so careful. I retraced my steps a hundred times before I left them on the clothes line two nights before and was pretty sure nothing had gone wrong. It didn't matter. That was a clear sign that she'd noticed something, was at least curious or suspicious and probably left them there again as a bait, knowing that the hungry wolf in me wouldn't resist the invitation. And she was right...
I felt dizzy as I ran through the possibilities. Maybe she wasn't agry: maybe she noticed that somebody had taken her panties and was flattered or even excited that a young man like me was even remotely atracted to her. I felt hornier as I imagined her enjoying the idea of me stealing her panties and masturbating and couldn't wait until the night so that I could go back to my crime scene...
Well, the rest is history... I stole her panties again (it was much easier this time) and had very intense jerk offs but wasn't bold enough to cum on them. I put them back where I'd found them, just like I'd done two nights before, and hoped that something would happen after that.
You might be wondering whether anything happened between us after that... well, the answer is no. There were no words, nods, winks or anything that would suggest that she was open for the possibility of the real thing happening. The panties also disappeared from the clothes line after that night, and she moved away a few months later, never to be seen again.
But the question (and the memory) still remains. Do you think she really noticed something or was that just a major coincidence? I like to think that she was teasing me and that she really enjoyed the tribute.