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Plain Jane and the new panties. (f mast)

For the most part, Janie's panties were plain, white, cotton women's briefs. Hanes. Plain Jane's Hanes, was how she thought of them. Her first recollection of being called Plain Jane was from the fourth grade, when some girls started dressing differently and a few began wearing makeup. Jane's mother didn't approve of makeup and bought her daughter practical, nondescript clothing.
Now Jane was older, going on 15 years old, and even now some kids referred to her as plain Jane. Her mother's tastes and restrictions hadn't changed much, but Jane did get out some, and it was on one trip to the mall that she had found the panties.
Her mother never allowed her to go in to Victoria's Secret. She barely even glanced at it as they past, headed for the JCPenney's or Sears or wherever the sales were. But one day last summer her mother had a doctor's appointment at the clinic just down from the mall. Jane, as was often the case, wasn't doing anything, so on the off chance that they might go to the mall after the appointment, she came along.
Her mother left her the keys to the car while she went in for the appointment. Jane was not driving yet, but she sat in the car for 20 minutes or so and listened to the radio. When she got bored with that, she locked the car and went in to the office. Her mother was sitting in the crowded waiting room, with no chairs anywhere near her.
"Hey mom, how long do you think it will be?" Her mother looked up from her magazine and scowled.
"Unfortunately, either they or I mixed up the appointment time. I was almost an hour early. I don't see the point in going anywhere, since now I've only got thirty minutes, but it looks like they're behind schedule. It could be a while."
Jane tried not to roll her eyes. She knew that she was unlikely to get anything she asked for if she appeared dissatisfied with her current situation.
"Mom, would it be ok if I walked down to the mall? I'll check back in a little bit so you won't have to wait on me."
Her mother looked around the waiting room, taking in how crowded it was and considered. "Yeah, I guess so. Don't take too long though. One hour from now I hope to be done."
Jane smiled slightly and agreed to be back in exactly an hour. She figured it would take her about five minutes to get to the mall, so she'd have 50 minutes to browse, unattended by her mom.
The first place she headed was for the music store. Her mother never let her spend much time there, and there were a lot of CD's she would like to get. She had built up about $50 in allowance and figured she might get a CD or two. She checked out the new releases, then ambled through the bargains and finally found 1 CD she figured her mother wouldn't mind her getting.
In general, Janie knew that her mother didn't like her to spend much time in any of the stores that Janie considered fun. Not much time in the music store, or the book store, or the place with all the earrings and jewelry. She looked at her watch and realizing she had burned twenty minutes already, headed for the jewelry.
As she walked in that direction, the display at Victoria's Secret caught her eye. She looked at her watch, made a self-conscious glance around her, and walked in.
The first person to greet her was an attractive young woman who looked to Jane as if she was about college age. Jane was shy and when asked if she needed anything, simply replied "No thanks," and proceeded to browse around.
She couldn't believe how embarrassed she was. She felt silly for being bothered. "It's just underwear," she kept reminding herself as she examined the bras, panties and lingerie which decorated the store. She enjoyed the feel of silk, and was amazed at the many colors and designs that were available.
After a few minutes, she saw a pair of panties that she knew she had to have. They were a yellow color, with one flower on them near the left hip, and though she would have called them "yellow with a flower" Victoria's Secret gave them the romantic name Lemonade Floral. They were $5.50, or 5 for $20. She knew she couldn't buy them. Her mother wouldn't approve. But she did it anyway. A single pair. Lemonade Floral. Her decision took her all of five minutes from the time she walked into the store.
Heading towards the exit, she schemed at how she might hide the panties. She could sneak them into the car and then get them later, maybe hide them in the trunk. Or she could stuff them in her CD bag, or she could, "Put them on!" She thought, stepping quickly into a relatively empty women's clothing store, grabbing a blouse and heading towards the dressing room.
She walked in, and took off her sandals, pants and underwear. She tried to remember if she had ever stood naked from the waist down in a dressing room. She looked at her naked crotch in the mirror. She had started growing pubic hair several years before and had learned about her "female issues" from her mother, who handed her a clinical pamphlet when she had her first period. It felt kind of strange, standing there half-naked, and she got goose bumps on her behind from exposing herself to the mall air conditioning.
She took the panties out, quietly pulled the tag off of them and slipped them on. She pulled up her t-shirt to get a better look and enjoyed the view of her stomach, and her "privates" encased in the nice material. It was cotton, just like her Hanes, but they were cut low, barely covering the top of her bottom and with the color, they felt very different from her Plain Jane Hanes. She wondered how her belly button would look pierced, like some of the girls at school, with low cut pants to show off her stomach and give a glimpse of these panties.
She must have daydreamed a little longer than she thought, because she looked at her watch and realized that she had to go NOW. She pulled her pants back on, walked out with her Hanes shoved in the CD bag, hung up the blouse, nodded at the bored looking clerk, and headed for the exit. Once she got outside, she stopped at a trash can, dumped her old panties in them, (she had enough that her mother, who usually did the laundry, would never notice them missing) and walked quickly back to the clinic.
Jane was winded when she walked in to the office, but had time to sit down and catch her breath before her mother got out. Her mother looked around briefly and spotted Jane at the same time that Jane got up to walk towards her. She smiled, and Jane smiled back, feeling somewhat guilty, but also pleased with her own secret.
Jane and her mother, Anne, decided to go eat before they went home. They went to the cafeteria next to the mall, got chicken and vegetables ( her mother rarely took them to anything that could be called "fast food") and ate in relative quiet. Anne mentioned needing to pick up a few groceries, so they headed to the store and picked up some items and headed home.
Through lunch, Jane's mind was not clear. She was thinking about her own underwear. She was surprised by it. She felt sexier, even though she knew no one could see her panties, which led her to think about walking around in her new panties. She wished she had taken the time to check on a matching bra, but was pleased with her panty purchase. She looked around at people near her, wondering what kind of underwear each of them wore. Boxes or briefs? Bikinis or t-backs? The whole thing just made her feel, well, aroused.
She also had to plan things. Her mother did the laundry, and was usually very meticulous. However, Jane always put things away, so she could probably hand wash the panties when she needed to. But how would she dry them? She had to consider what kind of trouble her $6 panties could cause.
By the time she got home, she swore she could feel the panties. They weren't uncomfortable or anything, just very "there". She also knew that she was damp, aroused in a way she hadn't been before. She told her mom she was going upstairs to take a nap. It wasn't atypical on a summer afternoon. She was adolescent, after all, and seemed to need sleep all the time. She didn't have any intention of sleeping though, at least not until after she played with herself.
She took off her sandals, unzipped her khakis and dropped them to the floor. She looked at her image in the mirror, enjoying the view of her panties which now had a slightly darker shading at the crotch, from the moisture that had accumulated from the afternoon. She rubbed her index finger between her legs and moaned as she rubbed her swollen clitoris. She thought that with a few more rubs, she would come, but she wanted to prolong it a little first.
She pulled her bed spread and sheets back and got in the bed. Deciding that her mother probably wouldn't bother her, she removed her shirt and bra as well. Her nipples were already hard. She reached for the left nipple, rolled it gently, then palmed each breast. She sat cross legged on the bed, naked except for her panties, and gently touched herself, her breasts, then her stomach, then her thighs and calves, even her feet. She knew it wouldn't take long but she kept drawing it out, teasing herself.
Normally when she masturbated, it was functional. Once or twice a week she went to her room, got naked, got in bed, and rubbed her clit for a few minutes until she was done. Sometimes it was before turning in for the night, sometimes a few minutes after her mother left, other times under the same pretense as she was currently using - a nap.
But this was different. This was far more sensual. She rubbed her hands across the back of her neck, through her medium length brown hair, even over her face, her chest again, then finally laid back.
Her legs were spread and the moisture seeping through the crotch of her newly purchased underwear was unmistakable now. She wasn't just damp, she was wet. Her chest flushed pink as the result of her arousal. Her nipples were fully erect. Even the light hair on her stomach seemed to be tingling with the full arousal she was feeling. She cleared her throat, then sighed as both her hands felt her vulva through the Lemonade Floral fabric.
The sheets, cool and comfortable, felt good against her naked back as she continued to rub and play, touching her warm thighs. Her left hand moved slowly from leg to stomach and then to her other thigh as her right stayed between her legs. Her right index finger stroked steadily, up and down, further wetting her panties. Under the pressure of her finger, her wet crotch felt like it was already pulsing, moving beneath her. She desperately wanted to reach underneath the panties and touch her clit directly, but also wanted her first orgasm in her new panties to be from the outside.
Jane moved her left hand next to her right. She kept the rhythmic stroking of her clit going, but was now pushing her panties inside herself with her left. The warmth and wetness between her legs was spreading, and the panties were clinging to her as she continued rubbing and pushing.
Her knees were bent now and she stared at the ceiling and breathed heavily as her orgasm approached. She lifted her hips, then lowered them, thrusting against her hands as if someone was above her, and she focused on an image in her mind. Not a fantasy, just a thought, a picture of someone, male or female, it didn't matter, on top of her, pushing against her. Then the forbidden word came into her mind and the image took form.
"Oh fuck," she whispered, her hands and hips thrusting against each other. "Fuck me." The image became a man, thrusting, pushing himself into her, taking her virginity. She mouthed the words again, "fuck me." Then her body clenched, her hips raised and for what seemed like a full minute she froze, the peak of her orgasm sweeping over her.

From deep in her throat a low moan surfaced and her body relaxed, dropping back to the bed as her orgasm eased. "Oh god, oh my god," she thought, or said as she gently touched herself through her panties. She rolled over onto her side, her hands still between her legs, and fell asleep.

When she woke she was stunned. Two hours had passed in the blink of an eye. Her hands still grasped her panty clad crotch, which still felt damp, though not as warm as before. She sat up, looked down at her panties, and smiled.

"Wow." Then she stood, removed the panties and without knowing why she brought them to her face and inhaled. She had never done that. Usually after an orgasm she didn't even put her fingers near her face, but here she was sniffing her own panties. And she enjoyed it. She even stuck out her tongue, tentatively and tasted them. It was not a taste she found unpleasant, and the fact that she was even doing such a thing made her feel aroused in a fun, dirty kind of way. In a moment she had the crotch in her mouth and was sucking the moisture out of them until the taste dissipated.

She lay back down in the bed and with the panties, wet from her saliva and her juices, laying on her chest, she quickly stroked herself to another orgasm, this one finger to clit; quick, functional and not nearly as strong as the first one, but necessary nevertheless. Now she could return to the world, the haze of arousal dissipating as she put on a clean pair of Plain Jane's Hanes, got dressed, buried the Lemonade Florals in the bottom of her underwear drawer and headed to the bathroom to clean up and get ready for supper.