Lacy Underwear, or Not

"In fact, I think we found a great style, combining Carl's technical drumming with my heavy riff . . . riffing . . . riff, making, ness . . . "

"You're wasted Michael," she said with a sly smirk as she looked me over, noticing the obvious impairment of my mental and motor skills.

"True," I said, knowing she was well aware I would often stumble in as such on a Saturday night while she cleaned. It was getting to be a bit of a ritual. "What do we have to eat?"

She wiped her wet hands on a towel and opened the fridge, leaning inside. I liked her work overalls because they had holes in places that allowed me to see bits of skin peeking out. Even though it was mostly leg, there was something about it I found intriguing.

"I suppose you could make a sandwich," she said, digging around in one of the drawers, "we have everything you need."

A sandwich sounded perfect in my current state, and I walked up behind her and peered into the fridge over her shoulder.

"That shounds great," I sort of slurred out, realizing I did as soon as it came out.

"Jeez you're buzzed," she said as she stood up and turned to face me. Her nose came to about my chin as I looked down at her. I knew she had no sense of personal space, so her close proximity didn't faze me as she looked up.

"I know," I said, "I'm so ashamed." I put my head down in mock despair.

"Yeah right," she said with a gleam in her eye. I knew she loved having a position of power in a situation; and with me on the cusp of being actually drunk, she knew she could have fun with me. "Make your sandwich," she said reaching up and tapping a row of dainty fingers against my cheek.

She stepped aside and picked up her cleaning gear again as I reached in and started gathering ingredients. I filled my arms, which in my current state was a struggle, and I thought I had it under control until a squeezable jar of mayo slipped from the bottom and crashed to the clean floor.

"Crap!" I exclaimed as I brought the rest of the foodstuff to the adjacent counter, stepping over the bottle.

"You klutz," Lacy said as she came back by me to retrieve the fallen condiment from her freshly cleaned floor. "You're lucky it didn't break. Here." She handed me the bottle and I thanked her sheepishly as I turned in my daze to fabricate of some semblance of a sandwich. I could feel her eyeing my every move, watching to see if I'd even be able to build one in my stupor.

"You better let me do it," she said as she saw me struggling just to get the twist tie off of the bread bag. "I can't even imagine what you'd end up with if I let you go wild in my clean kitchen with all this stuff."

She held out her hand and I placed the bread in it, stepping to one side to watch her easily pull out a couple slices.

"Thanks Lace," I said, blushing at my inability to function at simple tasks.

"That's okay . . ." she said, and I knew there was more. "I don't mind taking a break from cleaning our kitchen to make you a sandwich. Let's just say you owe me one."

"Of course, I'll clean the next time," I offered as a way to make myself useful sometime in the future. It was all I had.

"I like cleaning," she replied, spreading the mayo across the face of the crusty white bread, "what else you got?"

Now I knew where this was headed. She wanted me to sweat while I watched her doing something for me. I couldn't really think straight, so I just went with, "Okay, what do you want?"

She was silent for only a moment, and then softly said, "Let me see it."

"Huh?"

"Let me see it, you know," she looked up into my eyes and then down to the front of my jeans. "You told me to just say the word, and now I am. Let me see it."

I couldn't believe she was using this night to get back at me so quickly. She had me mentally on my heels and I could hardly form a complete sentence. I must have looked like a deer caught in her headlights because she set the knife on the counter and turned right toward me, putting her hands on her hips.

"I mean it Michael," she said with the mischievous gleam she'd often get in her eyes, "Let me see it and I'll finish your sandwich. You're the one who put it out there, and I know you weren't drunk when you said it. Let me see it."

I was caught in my own web. I had been trying to get her to flinch in the bathroom the day before, and it worked. I really didn't expect her to come back at me with my own teasing game and call me out in the kitchen the first chance she got.

She stared at me.

Fortunately my inhibitions were down from the beers so I shrugged my shoulders and reached for my zipper. Lacy's eyes were on my hands, her raised eyebrows framing an expectant look as if she was waiting for me to get out a hundred bucks I owed her.

My pants were undone and my boxers were all that remained between her keen eyes and my naked cock. I knew I couldn't get out of showing her, and it was a little different than when I did it in the bathroom. In there she was naked as well, and I had a hard-on which helped me to look more . . . notable. Now it was just my drunken cock on its own, for whatever end.

"Well?" she said, "I know you don't need help here, you're always pissing when you're drunk. Let's see it." She knew she had me, and I knew it too. I pulled the front of my boxers down and there it was. I wasn't completely flaccid, thankfully, and my cock emerged as Lacy's eyes widened.

"Ah, there it is," she said as she stood and stared at my stuff for few long seconds. "I have to admit Michael, I thought you were full of shit yesterday, but you did it." She pulled her eyes away, turned, and just continued with my sandwich. I stood there with my right thumb pulling my boxers down and my cock out for no real reason. I figured I did what I said I would, so I covered back up.

Lacy started piling on cold cuts and said, "Kevin is working extra late for the Funky Freaky Dance thing they're doing, so I'm hanging here tonight, is that cool?" Her eyes were on the sandwich.

"Sounds good to me Lace," I managed, zipping up my fly. "I don't know how much longer I'll be of much company but we can hang out if you want."

"Either way, I'm going to finish cleaning before I do anything," she said as she folded the bread over, finishing the sandwich. "Here you go."

She turned and handed me the plate with the scrumptious looking sustenance atop it. I took it from her and she kept my gaze.

"Thank you for showing me," she said politely, "you have a very nice cock Michael."

"Oh, uh, thanks Lace," I started, not sure what to say, and off my game completely, "any time."

Any time? Did I just say that? I took my sandwich and sat down to eat while Lacy continued tidying up in the kitchen. I watched her ass stretch against the thin overalls as she bent over to clean the cupboard doors under the counter. I was admiring the bits of thigh peeking out as always and my brain seemed to be fixated on her body as I ate.

She looked back, seeming to catch me staring at her and asked "How is it?"

"How is what?"

"The sandwich dummy," she chuckled, "what did you think I meant?"

"Fantastic!" I blurted out, steamrolling right over her question, "I've never tasted anything so good."

She smiled knowingly at me and turned around again to finish her work.

Eventually I finished eating and Lacy had cleaned her way into the next room. I put my plate in the dishwasher and wandered into the living room where Lacy was dusting. I stood there wondering if should sit; I couldn't very well help, and she seemed to sense this and looked at me.

"Are you going to watch something?" she asked, carefully wiping the top of a lamp with a dirty cloth.

"I'm not sure," I said, slightly swaying in place. "I feel like I should be helping."

"Don't be ridiculous Michael," she said, "You would do more harm than good. Besides, I like cleaning. It's my Zen time, and you don't have to feel guilty about letting me do it. Why don't you go get comfortable and I'll be done in here in a minute."

It was a great suggestion and I nodded, turning my heel and making my way down the narrow corridor to my room. As I passed Lacy's room, I noticed that there was a pair of her panties on the floor right inside the door. This was quite typical, as oddly enough her bedroom always seemed to be the messiest room in the house, but it caused my mind to flash back to the image of her bending over and digging through her laundry. I started getting aroused again, and moved quickly into my room to escape the reminder.

Knowing Lacy was busy, I didn't close the door and just unbuttoned my shirt and pants, looking for my sweat shorts. I couldn't find them so I just grabbed a T-shirt and threw it on. She had already seen my dick tonight; I should be fine in my boxers I figured.

I wandered back out and Lacy was just finishing her dusting and putting away her things. She looked up at me, gave me a once over, and said, "Perfect, I'll be back in a minute."

With that she hoisted her cleaning products carrier up and made her way to the kitchen closet to tuck it away. I sat on the couch and found the remote on the gleaming coffee table. I was pretty lucky to actually live with someone who enjoyed cooking and cleaning. I would never ask her to do any of these things of course, being perfectly capable myself . . . well, sober anyway.

She walked past and down the hall to her room, and I flipped through the channel guide to see what was on. I found a documentary on giant construction equipment, and put it on to be funny, although it turned out to be quite interesting.

When Lacy came out, she still wore the same pink shirt with short socks, and I couldn't tell what else. It was probably either just her underwear or nothing again, as all I could see was leg to the hem of the long shirt which came to about mid-thigh.

"What the hell are you watching?" she said, sitting on the couch near me but comfortably distant. I was happy for the space as my cock started to harden as I pictured her naked again and smelled her sweet perfume settling over me.

"Just a documentary," I said, trying not to stare at her bare legs. She reached over and flipped off the main lamp, and the TV lit up the darkened room.

"Give me that," she said, holding out her hand. I handed her the remote with a smile, and her eyes met mine. They had a hint of mischief to them and she glanced down to my boxers. I looked down to see they were starting to tent and leaving little to the imagination.

I looked back up and she was already aiming the remote at the cable box and flipping through the channels. After a minute she finally stopped on an old movie and said, "Oh, here we go. Let me see it."

"Sure, we can watch this," I said, and then, "wait, what?"

"You heard me Michael," she said looking me in the eye as she set down the remote. "You said any time. Let me see it." The look in her eyes was challenging.

I knew right then that I was paying dearly for my mistaken cockiness in the bathroom. I really didn't think she would even take me up on my teasing offer, let alone rub my nose in it.

"Fine," I gave in, having little resolve left anyway. I found the open front of my boxers and reached in, finding my naked cock in a semi-erect state. I pulled it through the opening and lay it out in my lap for her to see. "How's that?"

"Very nice Michael," she said, eyeing up my growing cock. I was getting more aroused than I had hoped. "You seem to be kind of excited."

I looked at my bulging cock, "It would seem so. Have you seen it now?"

"I don't know," she said with the sly and teasing tone I knew so well. "You could put him away, but I'll probably just ask you again, so why don't you just leave him out for a while to save us the trouble?"

Now she was playing with fire. She wanted to me just sit there and watch TV with her, my bare cock lying out the whole time!

"Are you serious right now?" I asked incredulously.

"Dead serious Michael," she looked me in the eye with a challenging stare.

"I'll take my chances," I muscled up my last remaining nerve and tucked my member back inside my shorts.

"Fine by me," she said and looked back at the screen. We sat there for a while as the movie played, and honestly I couldn't have cared a wit about it. It was some black and white romance thing from the 40's or 50's, and I just never got those. I watched it though, waiting nervously for what I knew was sure to come.

"I'll let you change the channel if you show me again," she said out of the blue after about 10 minutes. I couldn't believe she was being so bold, and I was the one who had opened this door, all because I saw her bent over with her ass sticking out.

"Jesus Lace, what's with you tonight?" I had to ask.

"Show me Michael, I don't need to explain myself. If I want to see your cock you have to show me, so let's see it."

I was in deep shit now, and I could only respond by lifting my ass up and sliding my boxers down my hips and to my ankles. "There, happy?" I retorted as she openly turned to stare at my nude lower half.

"I guess," she said simply. "Nice cock. Do you still stand behind what you said in the bathroom?"

Thanks to the sandwich I was able to think about that one. It was a little thrilling to be sitting there with my cock out around her. I knew that neither of us could breathe a word of this to anyone, but we were also adults. "I do."

"I'm glad," she said and handed me the remote, glancing down to my cock again. I took the controller and started to surf channels, stopping on a movie I knew we would both enjoy, and it had just started.

"Oh that's a good one," she said, turning back to the screen. We watched for a few minutes, and then I saw her look at my lap again. She saw me notice and smiled sweetly. She was really getting off having my cock next to her to look at. My bulge had subsided, and I was a little happy for that, but not for long.

She must have noticed too, because she leaned back on the couch and pulled up a knee to her chest, allowing her t-shirt hem to drop down her thigh, exposing nothing but bare skin all the way to her naked ass cheek. Fuck. She had been sitting there again with a completely bare ass, and I had only just caught up when I dropped my boxers. The thought traveled instantly to my manhood and I felt it begin to inflate at a furious rate.

The little vixen! I saw her smirk and peek to the side to see if her little show had the intended effect, and of course it did. Now she really let me have it.

"Holy shit Michael, are you getting hard right now??" Damn it. I pretended not to hear, or that I had no comment, and she continued to push me. "What's getting into you? I mean this movie isn't that exciting, is it?"

She wanted to see me squirm, the way she squirmed in the bathroom, the last time both of our privates were out in the same room together.

"Did you just realize that I'm not wearing anything under here again? Is that it?" She knew it was. "My god, you're totally hard, look at you! You really like knowing my pants are off don't you? You're so bad!"

"Me?" I finally said, "You were the one wearing almost nothing on Friday morning when I came home, and now?" I should have kept my fool mouth shut.

"Is that it? Is that what this was all about? Did I turn you on running around with just a shirt on in my own place Michael? What, were you thinking about my tits while you ate my home cooked breakfast?"

I was a little too annihilated to come up with a coherent response.

"You were!" a look of shock and accusation crossed her face as I looked away. "You can't hide it! Is that why you called me into the bathroom? Did I get you all worked up Michael?"

"You didn't have to stay, or take your shirt off you know," I was able to construct an intelligible sentence out of somewhere. My mind was still aware I was in hot shit.

"You liked that though, didn't you? Did you get a good look?"

I knew where this was going, and I didn't want to fight with her sitting there with our pants off, so I tried to turn the tables. "Show me."

"What!?"

"You heard me. Show me."

"Oh no, you don't get to say that. Only I do. That was your idea," she squinted, her challenging eyes on me.

"I never said it was just for me to say, and it's only fair. I've shown you, and now I'm totally out here. Don't think you can handle the tension? Come on Lace . . . just show me."

A slow and silent resolve crossed her face, and I knew I got her thinking.

"Fine, just a peek," was all she said, leaning back and dropping her foot to the floor. From there her legs slowly crept apart, the shirt still covering any view between her legs.

"I can't see anything."

She spread her legs wider, one of them touching my own bare leg as it moved. Her shirt crept higher until I could just see her curly little hairs and the protruding lips of her . . . a HA! . . . fully aroused pussy!

"Mmmm, that a girl," I murmured in a cocky tone, and she instantly snapped her legs together.

I definitely recognized the telltale puffiness between her legs in my momentary glimpse, the shine of the television lighting her up. I'd seen Lacy in this highly aroused state so many times, and it meant I was back in control. I knew how stimulating everything was to her once the heavy weight of arousal set in, so I decided to change my strategy.

"Oh, you're wearing panties," l said, knowing full well she wasn't, "I thought you weren't."

"I'm not, genius," she said, her playful look telling me everything I needed to know. I sat silent for a minute, waiting for the next move, which came as quickly as expected.

Slowly her legs parted again, and the empty space between her bare thighs began to grow. This time she reached down and raised the edge of her shirt, clearly showing me her private tuft of wily fur in the process. She gently tilted her hips so her swollen lips puckered out clearly from underneath again.

"See," she snorted, with as much of an act as she could muster. I knew her heat was rising. She loved the fact that my naked cock was right next to her and pumped full of steam. I was sure she knew she'd have me pull it out again, even while she was in her room changing. Her pussy was probably already soaking wet while she decided to come out in just a shirt. The horny little minx!

"Oh my god," I said softly, "you're serious." She let me stare between her legs for a minute, looking down there herself. "Look at that beautiful pussy," I said, knowing compliments would keep it out a bit longer for me.

"Don't get any ideas mister," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on her own distended labia.

"Like what?" I asked with a hint of drawing her out in my voice.

"Like whatever ideas your hard-on is having there," with that she turned her head and stared right at it. I looked at my cock and it was long and quivering with excitement.

"What, this hard-on?" I asked softly, wrapping my fingers around it and slowly pumping it up and down next to her.

Her mouth stopped working for a second as she watched me blatantly holding and stroking my naked cock in the bright glow of the television. Her eyes were hooded and she seemed mesmerized by my movements.

She just watched in silence with her legs open and her bare pussy out, until her words finally appeared, "What are you doing?"

I didn't answer, I just kept looking between her legs and slowly moving my cock skin up and down my erect shaft in the dim light.

"I can't help it," I finally whispered, "I'm too hard."

She seemed to snap out of it, and slowly pulled her thighs back together until they touched in front of her. Her shirt was still up however, and the curly hairs between her legs formed a little brown shrub in the middle of her deep crevice.