For you- and you know who you are. Thanks for sharing so nice.
"I can't believe you will be gone again...." he sighed into her hair- which she had spent an hour washing and curling and he spent 15 minutes dissolving into a passion-mussed tangle
"It's just a week- duty calls" she whispered into a space slightly below his rib, ruffling the curls of hair on his chest with mutual exasperation.
They exchanged mundane reassurances. "It'll be ok." "You'll see" "You have work- I have work". They both knew the excuses were hollow and the reality was that no matter how filled the days were- the nights had a empty cool spot on the opposite side of the bed.
Her downcast eyes suddenly glinted wickedly- "I know!" She pulled a pair of embroidered sheer black panties from the pile of hastily disgarded clothing at the side of the bed- and the nightstand, and the doorknob, and the chandelier (how did that GET up there?).
"Take these"- she said. "I won't be here but you can hold these and remember- there are lots of good times ahead." His eyes lifted to hers- and then looked back at the panties and then at her..."These are better with a girl inside..." he smiled- "Any girl?" She said, her lip curling in a knowing smile... and the panties hit the floor again.
Later that day (you can fill in the details above- this isn't THAT naughty a fairy tale) He waved goodbye at the airport and watched as she schlepped her luggage into the long line at curbside check in. As he drove off he felt the small bundle that was the panties curled like a little reminder of what he would miss in what appeared to be an endless succession of days- just 5 actually, but oh those long nights!
That evening he got ready for bed, remembered and pulled the panties from his jacket pocket. Feeling a bit sheepish he held the panties at arms length- little ribbons, thread flowers and the slightest hint of what had taken place between them earlier that day. "These ARE much better with a girl in them"- he said aloud startled at the sound of his own childish indignation. "Well they are"- he muttered- "what good are panties here and a girl wayyyy the hell over THERE?" He sat on the side of the bed and put his elbows on his knees and his fists into his chin grinding the little panties ever so slightly into his cheek- he turned his head towards the lacy lingerie and closing his eyes he whispered into them once more- "SO much better with a girl in them..."
Suddenly the air was scented with the distinct aroma of... fabric softener sheets. He opened his eyes and standing in front of our hero was... a clothes hamper. Upon closer inspection- HIS clothes hamper. "How did THAT get in here?"- he wondered aloud.
"I am the panty fairy"- said the hamper- its wicker lid lifting and falling with each word.
"You have three wishes..."
“Why?” the hero asked, the panties now clutched inexplicably to his chest, in all likelihood from the shock of encountering talking bathroom furniture in the bedroom.
The hamper rippled its lid in near-derision- “Schmuck, who says no to three wishes? Look a gift hamper in the mouth and all you’re gonna get is a faceful of dirty gym socks.” The wicker gave the distinct impression of a huff by tapping its lid insistently for a full minute. “So… what’s it gonna be- its laundry night y’know” the hamper grunted.
The hero remembered the panties in his hand. What the hell- he thought- he’d tried Atkins, bought sea monkeys and x-ray specs from the back of a comic book- even tied a cape around his neck and jumped off the garage roof- he’d passed foolish a long time ago.
“OK, OK- three wishes, right?” he said… shaking his head in wonder and just the beginning of belief. “Yeah, brain trust- and I’m the panty fairy so have it make sense from that angle wouldja? I’m fresh outta mansions, trunks of gold and being blessed like a racehorse if you catch my drift” Our hero understood- at least the first two… he’d figure out what all this had to do with horses another time.
He looked at the panties- “a sexy, sexy girl… to fill these.” The hamper sighed- “okie doke.”
And standing in the panties was a beautiful brunette- JUST in the panties.
We pause a moment to let our hero catch his breath- which he then let out in a low…”Whoa”
And then quickly pulled back in because he needed the air to make the room stop spinning-
She held her arms out. Our hero went to her- the hamper chose this moment to slide into the living room and make casual conversation with a wrought iron plant stand he’d been eyeing for weeks. He liked the look of her sturdy legs.
Our hero was only momentarily stunned and took the fairy’s apparition into his arms. She was beautiful, and sexy, and she could KISS. And kiss… and kiss….. And
He pulled back from her sexy tousselled visage- with his eyes half closed. “You are so… beautiful… “ He whispered “Uh-huh” she said. “And sooo sexy” he spoke into her perfect ear. “Uhuh” she said. “ And,,, hey…ummm don’t you have anything else to say?” He asked- pulling back from the perfect face to look into her eyes- “Naaah” she said- “you can just keep talking- it’s all true..Oh wait- there is something…” she put one pink polished nail to her slick pouting lips “Got any gum? All this kissing makes my mouth dry…" ” Uh maybe a tic tac…I’ll check” he said. He walked into the kitchen and began checking the drawers for loose hard candy… “ Make it sugar free” she yelled from the bedroom “and could you move it I’m getting COLD” Hmmm our hero thought,,, me too.
Our hero walked into the living room where the hamper was getting into a very serious conversation with the plant stand regarding the distinct advantages of cross-pollinating the wicker gene with the wrought iron gene and creating a nice flexible… “A- HEM” the hamper looked over what would have been a shoulder- had there actually BEEN a place for shoulders on a hamper. “Can I TALK to you a sec?” the hero asked the hamper. “Finished so soon?” the hamper smirked “ I knew a seltzer bottle once that had that problem and solved it by icing..” “NO” Shouted the hero “Look she’s nice and all but… kind of a pain… and I kind of prefer someone with more than a three word vocabulary” “Picky, Picky… big talk for a guy who was talking to UNDERWEAR half an hour ago.” “Look” The hero began losing patience- which, for a hero is really a stretch, “could you just- you know- disappear her?” “I look like Tony Soprano to YOU?” the hamper barked. The hero sighed. “She’s an apparition not a mob informer-look, just.,,,”
“OK,OK, OK- she’s gone.” said the hamper.
I’m going to bed- said the hero with a sigh, and as he walked to the bed he spotted the little black panties lying by the side of the bed. He picked them up- folded them carefully once, and then again, and slipped them under his pillow. As he lay down on his side his hand slid to the cool empty place on the other side of the bed.
“See ya tomorrow schmedrick…” said the hamper as it ambled back to the living room- the night was still young…
Our hero (heretofore referred as “H” to save typing "OUR hero"… over and over- feels like overkill and he’d be embarrassed if he read it… heroes are modest like that) returned from work the next evening, dropped jacket, car keys, shirt, pants and scootched off his socks (that motion where you take off each sock using the opposite foot to avoid bending down- you know, scootching.) as he walked through the empty apartment and into the bedroom in t-shirt and somewhat less than his BEST underwear- after all (sigh) who would notice?
“Where have you BEEN?” there stood the hamper- next to H’s sock drawer with a pile of random single socks scattered on the floor around it. “What?” “HUH” stammered H.
“Great act!” sneered the hamper- “banter like that should be on Carson” H looked up from the pile of socks- “Carson’s DEAD” H shot back. “So’s late night TV- it’s all dreck.What’s your point?” the hamper replied with a resigned air. “So! Ready for wish #2?” the hamper asked- wriggling a mismatched pair of socks on its lid- which eerily resembled Groucho Marx’s eyebrows in a not-so-good way..
“Look,” said H sagging onto the bed and slipping his hand under the pillow to find the panties “ I appreciate your doing this but- last night was really awful- she was beautiful- but …” “Yeah- what a bimbo… no problem kid- I felt bad yanno so…” The hamper glanced downward- “ I decided to fix this…”. H looked down as well- “You’re fixing …
my socks?” “Nahhh- returning the one-sies” said the hamper” I usually keep ‘em until you throw the singles out and then return the first ones but… you looked like you could use a break after last night..” H goggled… “But…WHY steal socks?” “Hard to hide a Cadillac in a hamper kid- if ya know what I mean” said the hamper with a small wicker shrug. “So! Make your wish- we’re burning spin cycle here…” . The Cadillac notion danced briefly on H’s consciousness hoping to find a purchase based on reason… and ultimately gave up- making sense of a talking hamper was just too gargantuan a task for one hero with panties on the brain- the Cadillac got parked along with the racehorse reference for further consideration at a later date. That being dealt with H gave the second wish a moment’s thought- what was he going to do? She was still hundreds of miles and days away- and he was just a guy with panties under his pillow and a big night of reheated beef stew and bathtub cleaning scheduled for the evening’s entertainment agenda.
“I’m still missing a girl” said H-. “Natch”, said the hamper- “whaddaya think I AM a FRUIT basket?” “No- that’s not IT- sexy is great- but… someone…SMART… someone I can talk to…trade IDEAS with…” H implored the hamper- “Understand?”. “You got it” Said the hamper- and sitting behind H on the bed where the panties had been was yet another brunette- wearing one of H’s shirts- and the little black panties. Her dark hair was piled on her head and a pair of neat horn-rimmed glasses perched on a very nice but not exceptional nose and highlighting a very intelligent pair of brown eyes. “ Er- kid- I’m gonna head out for a bit. It’s Dollar night at the Fluff and Fold” said the hamper. H waved a hand in the direction of the retreating hamper, giving barely a thought as to how exactly the hamper would open the door- or WHERE the dollars came from for Dollar night at the Fluff and Fold and making a mental note to be more thorough when going through pockets before putting pants in the wash.
“Hi…” said H- a bit amazed at the very…interested woman sitting on the bed. “Greetings and Salutations!” she said brightly- peering over her glasses at H. “May I sit down?” asked H. “It‘s YOUR bed isn’t it?” asked the woman pleasantly… “ it’s not mine to GIVE permission” H sat down next to her. “Charlotte’s Web” said the woman. H- who was still busily looking at this latest apparition- who definitely filled his shirt in ways he didn’t, not to mention rather nicely filling the panties which peeked fetchingly from beneath the hem. H’s brain heard through a fog of shirt and panty inspired…preoccupation and finally registered the words “Charlotte’s Web?”. Yes! said the woman waggling a well-read paperback book in front of him- “I simply ADORE E.B.White’s writing- I am rereading his works and analyzing the Freudian and Jungian archetypes present in each book” she said- the words delivered precisely in a slightly breathless voice which brought neither pigs nor spiders to mind for H. He leaned towards her cross-legged corporeality on the bed- intent on those fast moving chatty lips, his eyes half closed, his own lips moving forward and touching…nothing
For suddenly she had shifted from sitting up to lying on her stomach on the bed with her face propped on her elbows revealing a not so perfect but absolutely serviceable and very nice tushie which peeked rather fetchingly from below the shirt as she bent her knees and crossed her ankles and continued talking. “Greetings and Salutations is what Charlotte says when she meets the pig for the first time- but you knew that” The apparition paused for the briefest razor thin moment and looked up to H for recognition. H, with great effort removed his eyes from the aforementioned tushy just long enough to smile in false affirmation.
“… I think that Charlotte is actually the mother figure and her death in the end as well as the birth of all those baby spiders is just the ULTIMATE in Oedipal fantasies- you know….” Again she allowed a sliver of a pause for agreement- it was at that moment that H realized that the panty fairy did not have a matching bra fairy and could only murmur “Yerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr” as a basic form of agreement. “Good!” piped the woman. I’m so glad you GET it- so few people get the DEEPER ideas and the BIG picture- it’s so nice to have someone to BOUNCE these things off. “Bounce…” echoed H who by this time was incapable of locating his own nouns or verbs .
It was at this moment, in an singularly UNhero-like moment- H heard a rush not unlike the ocean in his ears- he grabbed the apparition by the shoulders and gave her a long, soul-searching, extended tushy-gazing inspired kiss. Drawing back from her inexplicably stiff form H opened his eyes. The lip thing wasn’t really WORKING here- it was more like lip MASHING than kissing- he thought. Altogether too much teeth and not enough of the softer slipperier stuff. It was at that moment the roaring sound in his ears that preceded the kiss subsided and he located the problem.
She was STILL talking.
“and THAT rat…. With his LONG tail . It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that this is all about the father issues – cold, distant and..”
It was at that moment that the second unhero-like moment occurred. H leaned towards her and whispered to her still moving lips… “Shut up and kiss me- wouldja?. The apparition’s eyes opened WIDE. “Whatever for?” she piped- “We DID that. I simply don’t know what all the fuss is about- you kiss- hug, messiness- so much more exciting- the exchange of ideas, than say- lip sucking and neck biting..” “ But.” said H- still feeling a bit sheepish for overstepping the hero boundaries twice in such a brief period.. “ I LIKE hickies…especially the installation process” he mumbled, mostly to himself as she was still talking.
“....the geese with those long necks and beaks…OBVIOUSLY a reference to…” The end of her sentence was muffled by the slamming of the front door and the hamper ambled in, a powder blue plastic fabric softener dispenser ball dangling jauntily from his left handle. “Heyyyy kid- home run… this one’s STILL talking- bet you’re in head-heaven huh? Whatta BRAIN!
“Can I SEE you in the other room?” H asked- his voice communicating a sense of more than a little urgency, he grabbed the hamper by the first thing that came to hand- the softener ball- “EASY” yelled the hamper “new piercings are SENSITIVE” And dragged the hamper into the living room.
“GET. HER. OUT.” growled H. “What is your damage Boy-o?” asked the hamper- rocking slightly from the left to the right as he experimented with the side to side momentum of the softener ball. “STAY still, please…” begged H “ Yes, she’s smart, and yes we exchange IDEAS but… what can I say- NOT MY idea of a conversation- I don’t know what she is saying AND I can’t even get a word in edgewise with a razor blade to TELL her. “But she’s a cutie, too, huh.. ain’t she? Didn’t I get you what you asked for? Hunh? Didn’t I? The hamper began to develop the distinctly ripe scent of indignation- sort of a cross between greasy kitchen towels and old gym uniforms. “Yes, yes- you delivered… “ sighed H “it’s…just.... not what I was looking for… could you…” “Done” said the hamper-
“You’re not makin’ this easy boychik.” Huffed the hamper. “I’m outta here- see you tomorrow.”
H lay down on top of the covers and curled his body around the panties lying on top of the comforter. “ You think THIS is easy? He said to the air above the bed… and rolled onto his stomach, and the panties and fell asleep.
The next night H struggled to juggle keys, groceries and knapsack as he opened the door to his apartment. His soul needed soothing and the comfort food of the evening was a cheesy risotto (the beef stew of the previous night- or perhaps that same evening’s “date” had left H with a bit of a sour stomach and turned his digestive tract into an express lane.
He had just shoved the door closed with his hip when a voice behind him said “Looocy is dat YOU?” . H’s struggle to maintain the balance on his load was lost as keys, knapsack and groceries hit the floor, the bag of Arborio rice broke and rice skittered across the floor, the container of grated cheese popped open and a fine dust of Parmeggiano Romano filled the air, finally a large tin of chicken broth followed, bouncing off H’s foot . “What the ………….!!” He howled in a combination of shock, pain and exasperation- a potent recipe for driving even the most staunch hero to the occasional bout of potty mouth.
Standing in the doorway wearing a red checked apron tied about its mid-section was the hamper.“I love that show- especially Ricky- he could always make me laugh. How ya doin tonight kid?” H just stood there gingerly favoring the broth-wounded foot and brushing Parmesan off his pants. “Look- I’m fed up- I’m OK on my own- I have the TV- my work to do, and I can FEED myself” (“when dinner isn’t raw and on the floor” he thought to himself, not daring to utter the words aloud should the apron be some indication the hamper was of a mind to actually cook- truly a recipe for disaster- or at the very least-severe indigestion) “I’m just fine”- he continued ”so thanks and see ya, bye.””
“Kid, kid, kid. Man does not live on…” the hamper glanced down “ whatever this hard crunchy stuff on the floor is, alone. Look- you’ve got one more wish- why waste it?” The hamper looked up at H- his lid open and earnest, and inadvertently revealing H’s need to do a white wash, soon. “I just want a girl who is HERE for ME.” “DONE” said the hamper.“Wait, wait, wait!!!!!! Shouted H but the hamper was trundling off to the kitchen, sweeping the rice and grated cheese ahead of it and rolling the can of broth as it went. From behind H a voice cried “Oh You’re HOME!” and he was suddenly blindsided by a slightly cushy, flannelly, rather nice smelling bundle of…girl.
“OOF” H grunted, for the second time since entering the apartment- which had suddenly and inexplicably begun to feel like a roller derby arena with flying debris and flying…girls. H’s face was at that moment being covered in a series of quick moist kisses- “I missed you, missed you missed you!” H began to notice an unfamiliar feeling at the center of his chest… he tried to identify it… Fear? Nope- too warm. Apprehension- no- missing the twisty stomach/nausea thing. Depression? Wrong again, the corners of his mouth were turned the wrong way- in this moment- up. So lets recount- thought H. warm, smiling and not sick, female kissing me and moving assorted girly parts against me wearing – what WAS she wearing? H pulled back as far as the kissing girl/bundle’s arm’s length would allow. She was clad in an EXTREMELY short but decidedly red flannel lace-trimmed nightgown which was delightfully both short enough and low cut enough to reveal… the little black panties. The girl pushed forward wrapping her arms tightly around H’s neck- “WHERE have you BEEN?” “It’s been FOREVER! She whispered urgently. H was a bit occupied surveying the VERY short expanse of nightgown at the back of the girl and.. the way the flannel.. draped- in a way that flannel shouldn’t if one expects to behave in a gentlemanly hero-like manner through those cold winter nights. On the other hand what better way to stay warm thus avoiding the need for even this miniscule yet fetching little scrap of fabric?
“I have been waiting FOREVER” she looked up at him, her big brown eyes imploring and her dark brown hair falling in a really cute way in her eyes. She swung from her arms draped in a rather friendly half- Nelson around H’s neck. “Well honestly,” said H moving a wisp of hair out of her near tear-filled eyes…“I just wished you up ten minutes ago”. “But I’ve been waiting ALL that time” she pouted-. “I’m sorry” replied H. I’ll focus on you to make up for it. What did you do today?” he asked as he attempted to sit down, this made somewhat difficult as the girl did not seem to be willing to unlace her fingers from around H’s neck so he sat down on the bed and she sat down - on H. “I waited for you” she said- her face inches from H’s. “ Well, did you DO anything interesting?” he asked- “I thought about you- where you were, what you were doing… when you’d be home…” she said dreamily and at the same time still disturbingly close to H’s face. H began to notice a distinct drop in the amount of oxygen in the room and breathing freely was getting slightly more difficult. “But let’s talk about YOU” she said in a gush “Did YOU miss ME today?” she asked brightly- tightening her grip on his neck as she tossed her head flinging a half dozen tresses into his mouth as he struggled to take a deep breath while locked in her embrace. “Well…” “P-TUI”, “Yes..KACK” said H, “Or I would have,” he said- spitting one final tress from his mouth “had I known you were here…” We’re TOGETHER NOW that’s ALL that matters” she sighed blissfully.
H was now experiencing a bit of numbness in his girl-encumbered legs as well as a slight spinning sensation which could either be attributed to so MUCH girl at one go or a distinct lack of personal space and oxygen. The resulting feelings were quite similar, H imagined, to being trapped in a nice smelling but utterly sealed coal mine with an overly chatty canary.
“Could you- WHEEZE- give me a sec here?” H managed to gasp. “O-KAYYYYYY" She said coyly… but you be RIGHT back”. “Certainly” said H as he stood and simultaneously ducked under her tentacle-like embrace “Be right back!” he said, backing out of the room to avoid being recaptured.
He ran into the kitchen where the hamper stood next to a bubbling pot on the stovetop. “Help” gasped H. “What now?” the hamper grunted.” The panties are filled- she’s ALL yours- Whaddaya want? Green Stamps, too??”
H raked his hands through his hair in exasperation.and said urgently “Listen- ALL I want is an intelligent, sexy girl who HAS a life of her own, who wants to be here with ME- even when she ISN’T exactly here- is that SO MUCH to ask?”
“ I knew you’d be a LITTLE lonely but this is kind of extreme don’t you think?” said a voice from behind H. He turned and there in the doorway was yet another brunette; a little travel-rumpled, smelling a bit of airplane and very, very wrinkled from a long flight and smiling at him.
“You’re HOME” he said. “Yep.” She smiled and walked over to him, and placed her arms on his shoulders and looked directly in his eyes- “ Missed you” she said quietly and kissed him in a way that verified that she missed him very much indeed. She took his hand and led him to the bedroom… and there in the doorway lay the little black panties. “What were you doing with THESE?" She laughed. “Trying to fill them.” he said “You can’t BELIEVE how difficult that can be!” “Probably not” she said- “but c’mere and let me show you how easily they get emptied” she grinned.
“Wait” said H ( because a girl THIS good deserves a hero) “you just had a long flight- do you want some dinner?”
“Nahhh” said the girl- “We had risotto with fabric softener on the plane” and then she giggled.
And the moral of the story is:
It’s not the panties on the girl- it’s YOUR girl in the panties – and really, with the right girl- who needs panties?
