New Year Update!
Well, first off I must say Happy New Year to everyone! I’ve updated my store with tons of new panties and some new bonus items. There is now the feature to send me your photos and video footage. I’ve already received a few! I’m so excited about this. As you know I’m a super horny girl and I really get off by watching people masturbate. It’s innocent…right? lol
Tags: update
| Posted in » Happy Holidays!
Happy Holidays!! Be sure to get your orders in early so I can send you a creamy gift for the holidays.
Thanks a Bunch!
Tags: creamy panties
My apologies…
I apologize to those of you that have contacted me about not being able to comment on my blog. Unfortunately, when I leave my blog open for comments I keep getting flooded with junk mail. I will leave the comments open until it happens again. Feel free to comment in my guest book or just send me a a little note to say hello. I love thoughtful things like that 
Hot Sweaty Day
Here’s a picture of me doing what I do best when I wearing panties for you. I love to exercise, so here I am keeping it tight, wet, and creamy for you! Thanks for all the love you bring to my site.
Fiery Night
I had this full red fishnet top. I decided to jazz it up a little bit,so I cut it into a mini skirt and top. What do you think? If you didn’t know RED is favorite color, it makes me feel so sexy and fiery inside. Looking at myself in the mirror I just had to take some pictures for everyone else to see!
All About Me
First, let me start by saying, I am not the self-centered type. In fact, narcissistic people irk my nerves. However, I am one that hates to be put on the spot or challenged in front of others. This is the very reason why I ended up in a drunken stupor, dancing on a bar table like a bad scene from Coyote Ugly. Only the girls in Coyote Ugly flaunted a little more than a pair of stilettos and lingerie…
“Hey, girl, Marcellus and I broke up.”
“No, kidding. Haven’t you two been dating for about two years?” I asked my BFF, Maggie.
Maggie sighed solemnly and said, “Yeah, something like that. That piece of crap-o-la got drafted to the NFL and decided ‘it’s just not working out.’ Isn’t that some mess?”
“Did you slash his tires?” I asked jokingly.
“Tina, what’s the point? He can buy the tire company now if he wants,” Maggie pointed out. I nodded in agreement and tried to think of something that would cheer her up.
“You know what you need?” I asked her smiling from ear-to-ear.
“A dildo?” she laughed, but I suspected she was half serious.
“No! Well…maybe…but that’s not what I was talking about. You need a get-a-way trip to take your mind off of Marcellus. He was a geek anyway. And, I need a get-a-way trip, too. Classes are over and they kicked my butt. So what do you say?” I asked, raising a mischievous eyebrow.
“Tina, you and your ideas…but you know what? I think you’re on to something. We need a get-a-way trip where we can have fun and kiss good-looking guys uninhibitedly.” Now Maggie was the one raising an eyebrow impishly.
“You’re right. In this little town, everybody knows everybody and folks are always in other folks’ business. I got just the place: VEGAS!” I screamed excitedly. Maggie looked at me and then we both yelled, “VEGAS!”
Vegas reminded me of Miami as far as the night life was concerned, great ambiance and the party vibe was omnipresent. Maggie and I slept most of the day away and decided to hit the bar around 10 PM. I’m not sure if it was Vegas, the fact that it was late, or just being in a city where no one knew us, but we were dressed sexy as hell. Maggie sported a mini skirt with hot pink stilettos and I fashioned faux patent leather pants (so tight they looked like second skin) and black stilettos. We both had on our rock star graphic tees from Express, which highlighted two of our best features: DD breasts and small waists.
A couple of shots down and both of us were semi-wasted. Maggie was at the bar sucking face with the bouncer and I started watching the clock. It was already 2 in the morning! The bartender, a hot muscle-bound guy with spiked hair and tons of tattoos, yelled to me over the music, “Hey, sugar, you should sign up for our dance contest. Winner gets $1,000 smackaroos.” Did he just say “smackaroos?”
From the looks of things, Maggie was going to be locking lips for awhile, so I said to myself: Oh what the hell. It didn’t look like I had much competition and could surely use the $1000. “You buy me shot of patron, and I’m in,” I said to the bartender and winked.
“Consider it done,” he said laughing.
The music started blaring from the jukebox so I downed my shot of patron. The bar was fairly large, but there was no dance floor.
“Hey…bartender, where are we dancing? Where’s the dance floor? Are they going to clear out some of these tables?” The bartender looked at me puzzled and said, “You’re kidding, right, sugar? Dance floor? “ He was laughing like Chris Rock just said a funny joke. When I didn’t laugh, he said, “Sugar, the dance competition takes place at the bar. You’re dancing on the bar.” WTF? I had too many shots to dance on the bar! He yelled, “You got this, sugar!” I really wished he would stop calling me “Sugar.”
The bartender read the names from the list and one by one, stacked chicks with big hair and boobs stepped up on the bar. I followed suit. “Loosen up my buttons,” by the Pussy Cat Dolls erupted from the jukebox. The Pamela Anderson look-a-likes started to shake their asses. I joined in doing my, “It’s Britney Bitch” dances moves: toss the hair, move the hips slowly, gyrate the pelvis. One by one, the bartender dismissed my contenders. It was down to me and a brunette. She actually looked like me, just paler in complexion: petite, long hair, big boobs and a tiny waist. She had on a skirt which damn-near exposed her butt cheeks.
The crowd, which consisted of mostly men at this point, got rowdier every time she bent over. I knew I had to do something if I was going to win this damn money. I walked over to her and tossed my hair, kicked my leg straight up in the air so that it landed on her shoulder, and went into a full split. I stood back up and then put my leg on the floor. The crowd went wild. It was hot and I was dripping in sweat. The brunette came up to me and whispered in my ear, “Nice moves, bitch; love the fake diamond studs on your blue panties.” WTF? How did she know I had fake diamond studs on my panties? She even had the color right! I looked down and the whole crotch of my pants was exposed. I split my pants when I did the finale move! The brunette held up her hands as if she won and started pointing at the split in my pants. I saw dudes covering their mouths and pointing. I spotted Maggie in the midst of the crowd; she looked more mortified than I felt.
I’m not one to sit around and be embarrassed. I walked over to Ms. Brunette and peeled off my patent leather pants. In my Express tee and stilettos, I picked up my pants and tossed them into the crowd. I raised my hands in the air as if to say: No, I won. Then I shifted my weight and bumped Ms. Brunette with my hip; she stumbled back a tad, as I hoped. The crowd erupted again. The bartender walked over with an envelope and placed it in my hands. The Brunette walked up to me and if I didn’t know better, I thought she was going to smack me or pull a Pumpkin vs. New York and spit in my face. She did neither. She shoved her tongue down my throat and smacked me on the ass. She whispered in my ear and said, “Like I said, nice moves, bitch.” She was smiling and so was everyone else in the bar. I hopped down off the bar and grabbed hold of Maggie who was cradling my pants in her arms, mouth wide-open in shock. We headed for the exit.
“Tomorrow, we gamble,” I said and we took off laughing.
Sexy Satin
I’m feeling so sexy tonight. I love how satin feel against my smooth chocolate skin. Get these sexy panties in my store.
Good Lovin’
I can’t get over the fact that I have so many new pairs of sexy panties. A little strip tease with the hot, Victoria’s Secret security guard and bingo: a bag full of free sexy lingerie! First stop: Laundromat. I’ve seen too many horror stories on MSNBC where nasty chicks try on panties and put them back in the bin to be sold. Ugh!
I figured since it’s only about 11 AM, the Laundromat should be fairly empty. Correct assessment. The only people there, besides myself, was an elderly woman who resembled the sweet, little old lady from the “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” commercial; a big burly man with a scruffy beard, dirty fingernails, and a belly that looked as if he was with child; and a skinny, blonde teenage girl that reminded me of a bubbly, “Oh my gosh, like totally” Valley chick. I don’t know why I was overly concerned with people seeing me wash lots of lingerie; I mean, the laundry has to get done, right? I guess I was still feeling the lingering effects of the guilt. It’s not like I paid for my intimate apparel, but I sure as hell earned them! So much for guilty emotions…
I emptied the bag of clothes into the washer and set the cycle on “gentle.” In my haste…or perhaps it was sheer excitement, I forgot to bring a book or magazine to read. I was in no mood to watch “The Price is Right,” which was what was being aired on the 20-inch screen TV. I walked next door to the WaWa and picked up the latest celebrity news and gossip magazine.
I finished perusing the magazine just as the washing machine finished. I threw my winnings into the dryer and watched as my nightgowns, panties, and bras tumbled around in the dryer. It was about 11:30 AM, which explained my grumbling stomach. I headed over to the Chick-Fil-A for a crispy chicken sandwich with extra pickles. Fifteen minutes later I returned to the Laundromat.
I really didn’t want to make a scene, but I was pissed. Did someone think I wouldn’t notice? Notice that all my damn sexy panties were missing from the dryer! The nightgowns and bras were in the dryer, though. My level of anger quickly turned to an extreme heightened curiosity when I noticed the white-haired, hunch back woman abruptly exiting the building. Hmmm… I decided to follow the old biddy. As she loaded her laundry basket into the car, a sky blue, satin thong was dangling from the basket. MY sky blue, satin thong. I started to say something, but before I could, she ran around to the passenger side of the silver, 2008 Lincoln Town car, as fast as her little legs could carry her, and shut the door. She had the nerve to look in the back seat and noticed the satin blue thong. She immediately pushed the panties down deep into the bottom of the laundry basket. Her wrinkled fingers were permanently bent. Interestingly enough, her crinkled fingers were manicured.
I decided to do the unthinkable. Follow her. Not because I wanted my panties back (I suspected the rest of my panties were in that basket), but I wanted to know why. I know this almost century-year-old woman wasn’t going to wear my underwear. So why?
It wasn’t hard to follow her. She was on the highway doing about 35 mph in a 65 mph zone. Damn old drivers. I exited off the highway with. Gran Gran, breaking the entire time, trying not to hit her bumper. I knew she was old, but I started to get this eerie feeling as we drove down a dirt path. Not to mention, it started getting dark. That’s winter for you. I checked my watch; I had been following the old biddy for over an hour. I took a deep breath and got out the car, just as she did. I decided to help her with basket.
“Well, hello. You startled me! How can I help you? Are you lost, sweetheart?” she asked.
“Well, why don’t I help bring this basket inside and we can talk then,” I suggested.
If I wasn’t mistaken, Gran Gran raised an eyebrow and a faint smile formed at the corner of her lips. All I could think was, “What have I gotten myself into?” Gran Gran didn’t respond; she simply made her way up two steps, which led to her condominium. I followed by her, with her laundry basket, which contained my panties.
As soon as the door opened, the smell of moth balls and cinnamon overwhelmed me. A male voice called downstairs, “Did you get them, mom?”
Gran Gran said, “Yes, and then some…”
Gran Gran looked at me and said in the sweetest voice, “I’m sorry, honey, but I didn’t get your name?”
“It’s Tina. Look. I want to talk to you about something that you have of mine.”
Gran Gran started up the steps and motioned for me to follow. I hesitated at first and decided, oh what the hell. I had my hand in my pocket, securely holding my can of pepper spray. I’d even spray granny if I needed to.
I heard the male voice again, this time it was more anxious, “Hurry, mom. I’ve been waiting…”
As we entered the room, I said aloud, “Oh shit!” My facial expression matched the guy’s facial expression: one of surprise, suspicion, and desire. He was absolutely gorgeous. I mean, I could only see from the waist up…but that was enough for me to make a quick assessment. His arms were ripped, like nothing I’ve ever seen. His face was chiseled and his hair was thick and wavy. His shirt was too small, intentionally, I’m sure, to show off his pecs and abs. I stepped forward and extended my hand, hoping he would stand up and introduce himself. He did nothing but stare at me and remained seated.
What shocked me even more than his beauty was the myriad of sexy panties hanging around the room on hangers. It was like an erotic panty museum with a display of an assortment of underwear…exotic panties, all white panties, lace thongs, etc., etc.
Gran Gran broke the silence, “I have many, many today and the owner as well.”
Hot stuff moved away from the desk and exposed his wheel chair. No wonder he was seated and refused to stand up. He couldn’t stand up. He rolled his chair up to me and said, “Well, hello, Miss…I didn’t get your name?”
“I’m Tina and you are…?”
“I’m Andre. And it’s impolite to stare. A car accident. Paralyzed from the waist down. Hence my underwear shrine.”
“I’m sorry? I don’t quite understand.” I was confused by it all. Underwear all over the room. Man in a wheelchair. Elderly woman stealing underwear. What was this?
“Well since the accident, I can’t seem to get a date. Once a woman learns that I’m paralyzed…from the waist down…she’s simply not interested. I can’t work and my mother is on a fixed income. She steals sexy panties for me when she does the laundry.”
“So, you can’t buy panties; so, you have you elderly mother steal them? What’s the infatuation with panties? Why not just watch porn?” I asked perplexed all over again.
“It’s not so much the panties. I like the scent. My preference is worn panties. I haven’t smelled the scent of a woman in so long. My mom brings me washed panties, which are what you see hanging up around the room. But the worn panties, I keep them on the bookshelves in those tiny boxes over there, to maintain the scent. ”
As crazy as this story was, I actually felt sympathetic towards Andre. I looked at his bookshelf and sure enough, there were eight shelves; four were filled with small boxes, the size of gift boxes that would hold bracelets. The other four were empty.
Andre spoke again, “Tina, would you mind…I don’t know how to ask you this…but would you mind…”
I realized he was asking me for my panties. My worn panties. Gran Gran was looking at me with such a tender smile with her hands folded. I couldn’t tell if those folded hands were: mad scientist folded hands or I love my son and want what’s best for him folded hands. Either way, I was felt compassion for this man. And I was somewhat turned on by it all.
I stepped towards Andre and unbuttoned my jeans. I gently rubbed my hands up and down his arms and pulled his head to my torso. Goose bumps formed on his arms even though the room was quite warm. He pulled my jeans down and I stepped out of them. Both of our breaths sped up. He held me closer and put his face right between my legs and inhaled all of me. I felt something warm on my inner thighs…Warm. Wet. He was licking me. His tongue found my crotch. Even though my panties were still on, I could feel the forceful flickering of his tongue. My legs began to lightly shake. He hiked up my left leg and set it on his shoulder. His tongue moved from my crotch to my butt and then between my cheeks. This was all too much but what could I do? My brain told me to say, “OK, that’s enough,” but my vagina begged and begged for more.
He was so fluid in his movements; his hands and lips were like magic. He pulled me onto his lap. Gran Gran gasped. I imagined her clutching her pearls. He continued to kiss me and my body and began to insert his fingers into my vagina. He stroked my clitoris with rapid precision. I surprised myself with my moans. Between his fingers and his tongue…just lovely. I have to admit I was surprised when I came. Juices were everywhere. What surprised me more was when I came, so did he. He came while his face was between my legs. Damn. What a turn on.
My panties were soaked. Andre had worked up a sweat and it was sexy as hell. He removed my panties and wheeled himself back to his desk. He removed a box from his top desk drawer, similar to the others, and meticulously placed my cum-stained panties inside. He wheeled himself over the bookshelf. Instead of putting the box on the fifth shelf, he re-arranged the boxes to make room on the very first shelf. He placed my box in front of the others. He looked at his mother and then at me and said, “Thank you. Thank you both.”
Gran Gran looked on, smiling, her hands still folded. I gathered my things and headed to my car. Without my Victoria’s Secrets panties.
Tags: Sexy panties
Hot Item!
These panties were sold from my site 3 minutes after I posted them! Smokin’ Hot!
Tags: Lingerie Pictures, panties, Updates
A Day in the Mall
My younger brother is graduating from college today. Since my family and I are taking him out to a fancy restaurant in celebration of his commencement, I bought this really cute dress to wear: navy blue, strapless, form-fitting, falling slightly below the knee. The only problem is, like usual, my laundry is piled high. The only undergarments that I have clean are my boy-cut undies. I can’t wear those though: panty lines. There’s only one solution to this problem: Victoria’s Secret shopping spree!
As I entered the store, I became quickly overwhelmed. Sales, clearance items…a girl’s dream. I grabbed night gowns, a silk robe, and had a handful of thongs, lace cheekie and boy-cut panties, and seamless bikini underwear. I could barely hold everything in my arm; in fact, some items started to spill over into my over-sized pocket book. I tried repositioning my garments. I reached into my purse to pull out the attire so that I could drape them back over my arm and someone firmly tapped me on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Do you mind coming with me?” I turned around and this buff, approximately six-foot tall, dark-haired security guard was staring me in the face. He looked to be in his late 20s, early 30s perhaps.
“I was actually on my way up to the register. What seems to be the problem, sir?” I asked, quite perplexed, to be perfectly honest. I wasn’t confused about his physique though. He was a looker. The definition in his arms was quite pronounced. I knew he hit the gym at least five times a week. I wish I knew what his abs looked like, six-pack no doubt. I had a quick reverie of him lifting me up and dangling me over his shoulder…Tarzan meets Tina. Focus Tina. Stay focused.
“No, you won’t be going to the register; you’ll be coming with me. Follow me, please.” He firmly took hold of my elbow and attempted to guide me in his direction.
“Look, do you mind explaining to me what this is all about?” I asked, a little annoyed at this point. I didn’t care how buff he was, he needed to explain to me what was going on!
“We have a zero tolerance shop-lifting policy, ma’am,” he retorted. I actually started laughing. Me, shoplifting? I may be a lot of things, but a thief? NO.
“Sir, let me explain…,” before I could finish my sentence, sir buffness cut me off, “We have you on camera, ma’am. Please walk with me. Let’s avoid a scene.”
Damn. Damn. Damn. I’m not one for a big commotion; so, I decided to follow the security guard. He took my underwear, but gave the other items to the sales representative. She just shook her head and smiled. He escorted me through a corridor not too far from Victoria’s Secret that led to the Management Office and instructed me to have a seat. I swung my legs under this white, cafeteria-style table and turned around. As I turned around, hot stuff was in my face like a drill sergeant, “You have one minute to strip down and shake your ass.” This fool must be crazy. Was he serious?
“On your feet!” he continued and held up the lace cheekie underwear I planned to purchase. He held it between his thumb of his left hand and pinky of his right hand, as if he was going to shoot a rubber band at me.
I looked at his face; he was dead serious. I glanced around the room. The windows were tinted. Although I couldn’t see through them, I had a strange feeling there was someone – people – on the other side of the windows watching us.
“So, let me get this straight? You want me to strip down naked, and model those underwear for you?” I asked anxiously. I was scared, but more nervous, and I felt my adrenaline start to rush. His hotness was just too much for me.
“YES!” he said, a little bit too excitedly for me, “along with these thongs and hip hugger underwear.”
“So, Mr. Security Guard…what do I get out of this?” I asked in my most-perfect-I’m-a-tease voice.
“You can have all of these underwear, free of charge. Now, MOVE,” he instructed.
“OK, but let’s get one thing clear? Do not TOUCH me. Do you understand?” Sometimes I surprise myself. Here I am, detained in this room, about to get butt naked, and I’m making demands.
He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” I repeated, more loudly in case he didn’t hear me the first time.
“Hmmm. You’re spunky. I like that. Yeah, ok. I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he conceded.
And just like that, I was on my feet, slowly removing my three-and-a-half-inch heels and tossing them to side of the room, totally over-exaggerated. I unbuttoned my jeans and allowed them to gracefully fall to the floor. I turned around so he could see my bare butt, got to love thongs. I pulled my shirt over my head and unfastened my bra. Before removing my bra, I looked over my shoulder and winked at him. Droplets of sweat had formed on his forehead. My bra fell to the floor with a gentle “thud.”
Mr. Security Guard barely blinked. I removed my ponytail holder and tousled my shoulder-length hair. He was across the room. I decided to make this a little bit more interesting. I walked right up to him and slipped one leg out of my thong, and then the other. I picked up my underwear and wiped his brow with them. I let them fall and he instinctively caught them in his hand and clenched them tightly.
So there I was. Butt naked in this room with Sir Buffness. His left hand held my recently-removed thong and his other hand held the hot pink, lace cheekie underwear I was supposed to model. “Hand ‘em over,” I said quietly. He gently placed the underwear in my hand. I walked in front of him, back and forth, back and forth, twirling the lace panties, maintaining eye contact the entire time.
I turned around so my back was facing him, bent over and pulled the panties over my legs, slowly. He mumbled something that sounded like, “Yessss.” “What was that?” I asked, smiling at him the entire time. He simply cleared his throat and waited for me to continue. I walked to the corner of the room and slipped my feet into my Nine West, midnight stilettos. I marched up to him and said, “Remember don’t TOUCH me,” and straddled him, one leg dangling over both sides of him. Just as I suspected, his manliness was rock hard and quite hefty. I leaned backwards, allowing my hands to touch the floor and flipped my legs over my head. Thank you, mom, for gymnastics class. I felt like a bad bitch at that moment. I shook my perky, Double-D breasts; I might as well have said, “shimmy, shimmy, watch me shake.” As I shook my lovely lady lumps, I heard this thump against the window. I knew it; there was someone, people maybe, watching.
“That’s my cue to exit. Hope you enjoyed the show.” I gathered my belongings and began to get dressed. I dressed slowly and peeked at Mr. Security Guard from time-to-time, smiling. Eyes wide, he clamped down on his fist in his mouth.
