Letters From The Underwear

“Another Sunday endeth.”

Bronx clicked the lock into place and moved to pull down the shop window bars.

Lightning flashed out on the street as the last shoppers fled the downpour of rain for their cars.

“Roll up the sidewalks, time to go home,” Bronx said to his own reflection in the window. Then a smile appeared on the grizzled face of the six foot tall man. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair and hurried to his desk behind the display counter.

The laptop quickly responded with the email of the week. He quickly jumped out of the business email account and into the consumer emails.

The first three were the usual simple thanks for good services and products. The fourth was a complaint about a broken condom which was not a brand name Bronx sold in his shop. The fifth was a story, finally…a story about a guy tying up his wife with cuffs bought from Bronx and attached were pictures of her red bottom after the husband was done with her. A couple more thanks and another complaint.

This complaint was legitimate, however, as a pair of new boots had lost a heel. Bronx quickly replied apologetically offering an exchange or refund.

Then another story, and this one caught his eye.

The subject line was: “Panties”.


My name is Doug and was recently in to your establishment. I bought a pair of pink leather panties off your clearance rack.

No, I do not have a girlfriend, nor a wife. Don’t judge me as I collect female lingerie.

“Thanks and come back soon.”

I picked up my bag and walked out. My eyes stayed averted as the store owner was nice enough, but these sex shops always make me feel awkward. My blue jacket flapped lightly in the warm breeze and my black tee shirt offered just enough protection underneath.

The sun was shining and the roads were soaked as melting snow ran along towards gutter homes. The day was unusually warm for February.

The plain brown bag was under my arm and I glanced in the windows of some of the other stores walking south. Passing one used bookstore and my body froze. I dropped the paper bag onto the wet sidewalk.

The goddess was in the store glancing at a book. Her hair was light brown, straight and half way down her back over her white sweater. Blue jeans caressed her long slim legs. Her skin was very pale with big plump red lips and large eyes.

I bent to pick up the bag before slipping into the store.

Her brown eyes quickly met mine as the bell over the door announced my entrance. She offered a greeting smile.

The store was full of dog eared paperbacks and rough looking hard covers.

“Can I help you find anything?” she asked.

“No, just browsing today.” I picked up a beat up copy of Clive Barker’s Books of Blood.

“Your paper bag is falling apart.” She ducked behind the cash counter and returned with a fresh paper bag. She grabbed the bag from my hand, saying, “You browse and I’ll fix.”

My mouth opened to complain and my face turned beat red sensing the embarrassment that was expected to follow.

She pulled the pink leather panties out of the wet bag and her big brown eyes got bigger. “Wow, someone’s getting lucky tonight. These are gorgeous.”

My face overheated as I pretended to flip through a copy of Peter Straub’s Mystery.

“Wish my husband bought me these…oh, and my size even.”

“I’m not married,” were the only words that slipped from my head.

She blinked. “Girlfriend?”

My head shook a negative response.

Her eyes searched around the room as a single man with pink leather panties in his bag confused her. Those big browns lit up with an idea. “Wait here.” She quickly walked to the front door and flipped the sign to “closed”. She then disappeared into the back room behind the cash counter.

Standing in the empty book store, now alone. I decided to purchase a paperback copy of Neil Gaimen’s ‘American Gods’ which was in good shape. I weaved through the maze of shelves to the counter and waited.

The brunette returned with the pink leather panties on under her white sweater. She quickly turned to show off her gorgeous behind as well.

My erection wanted a look, but I stood up against the cash counter close enough to keep it in place in my jeans.

“I need these. Where did you get these?”

“Up the street at BronxAdult.” I held the book up. “How about a trade?”

She looked up at me with those big browns. “That hardly seems like a fair trade.”

“It would be…”

She was around the counter, had me spun around and unziping my jeans before I could say another word. “I’ll make it fair.” She dropped to her knees and pulled my jeans down to my knees. My black boxers quickly followed and my dick was quickly between her plump red lips.

Her blowjob had me gasping from what was the most glorious blowjob I had ever experienced. Her warm wet mouth had my cock getting harder while the rest of me melted. She had one hand steadying herself on the counter and the other caressing my balls.

I leaned back against the counter and barely hung on to my balance.

“Damn,” she whispered between mouth strokes. “This thing is too hard and I’m going to have to fuck it.” She stood and slipped the panties down to her thighs and bent over the counter to wait for me.

I was a bit confused with the speed of this, but I was not going to complain. I turned behind her and loaded my cock into her.

I wonder if it makes me seem bad that, although she was a good fit, she was much better with her mouth.

Regardless, after her screaming ended and she cleaned up my cum slipping down her thighs, we made the trade.

We’ve traded twice more since then.

Being I lost my panties, I’ll be by for another pair next week.

Best regards,

Bronx did a quick cut and paste on the letter for this week’s winner. He then started editing, typing one handed and stroking his cock with the other.

“I love this job,” he said to the screen and saved the draft. He went to read it one last time when a lightning blast took away the power and left Bronx in darkness. He gave a quick whistle. “At least I saved it this time.”

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