**Welcome today's guest, Stephy Smith.**
I had to break down and buy new underwear the other day. I made my choice, walked to the checkout stand and stood in line. I couldn't wait to get home and slip into one of the pretty little tuffs of material. Just something about new panties makes you feel all fresh and clean.
Piling my hair on the top of my head, I jumped in the tub and slathered up with baby oil. What a delight. I dried off and slipped into a pair of new black bikini panties. Soft, expandable little numbers I might add. My droopy ass was now in tight firm rolls instead of knee knockers. So what's a few lumps? I wear jeans anyway that will flatten the hills.
Long spaghetti tits swung just above the waistline as if they were Vanna White pointing out the correct letter. I pranced around the bathroom admiring the view for a few moments then dressed. I couldn't wait for the next need to pee! I drank tons of water, tea and coffee to forward the process... nothing!
Hours later, the need finally hit! Yes, oh yes I thought to myself. I perched on the thrown like a queen. All done and time to pull them up to experience the comfort of these little critters climbing across the hills and sinking into crevices excited me. The feel of the material of my new bloomers sliding up my legs, tantalized and molded cellulite as I tugged upward.
The pliable band clenched in my hands, sent tingles down my spine.
What the hell... my ring caught in the crotch.
Who put a pocket there and why? I re-read the package. It doesn't say anything about a frigging pocket! And it sure doesn't say what you are suppose to put in it. Am I wearing these things wrong side out? Were the panties made for a pole dancer? Is this where the men stuff the money?
Holy shit, are they for a cross dresser to stuff his dangling parts inside the pocket to hide them? Should I roll up the saggy lips and tuck them in to make a camel toe to be envious of? Do you braid the pubic hair before swimming and tuck the braids neatly inside so you don't have to rip that shit out before entering the pool?
Is there some kind of little vibrator you stuff in it to give you an all day orgasm? Do you carry extra Kotex in there? I don't have to worry about that any more, cancer cured that problem over twenty years ago. Is this a new place to hide your wallet for gravity possessed women? What the f***? Oh, hell! Has it been twenty years since I bought new underwear?
Blurb: Shawnee Turner left her home, family and friends to start a new life on a Colorado ranch. When the ranch sold, she was forced to return to her Texas hometown and the job she left behind. Emory Creek owned the sale barn. Anxious for his one true love to return he had to come up with a plan to convince her, he was the man for her.