Sunday – A Titillating Adventure

Erica had liked ditching her panties on Friday and enjoyed spending most of Saturday in nothing but a bathrobe, particularly the part where her husband, Kevin, had licked her clit until she came…twice.  Once for lunch and once for dinner.  Kevin didn’t seem to have a problem with her lounging around the apartment almost naked.

But today was Sunday and there would be no naughty wardrobe choices today.  Sunday morning was church and after that they had lunch with Mom 2 (Kevin’s mom).  She wasn’t comfortable going sans either place.

When she got dressed, she took off her robe and left it on the bed before crossing the room naked to open her closet.  She hemmed and hawed for a little while, flipped through her options, and settled on the first dress she’d seen when she opened the closet.  A short sleeve, square neck dress with an empire waist.  She pressed it against her bare front as she crossed back over to the bed.  The top was made of a thick solid green material that rubbed her nipple to an immediate point.  The bottom was a softer floating green and white floral skirt.  She loved the way the hem rubbed against her legs.  That would at least be the same.  She placed the dress on the bed and walked around to her dresser where she pulled out a balconette bra that Kevin had suggest she get, and – sigh – a pair of panties.  She put them on with a silent protest.  At least the color almost matched the dress, unlike the bra.  It was black, so it could be worn with everything and if it were up to Kevin, she would.  It was no secret to her that Kevin took very little pleasure in her breasts.  It wasn’t good or bad, just a fact.  But when she wore this bra, he seemed to like her boobs a lot more.  She put it on.  The thin band ran all the way around her under-bust and the thin straps crossed directly between her collar bone and shoulders.  The padded lace cups only came up to the middle of her breasts just above her nipples.  If she jumped or got jostled too much her tits would pop out to say hello.

She slipped the dress on and settled the waistline under her boobs.  The dress came down to just below her knee and she knew when she sat it would rise up to just a bit above her knee.  She checked the mirror and thought she looked good.  A rare level of self-esteem her parent had instilled in her.

She went out into the dining room and Kevin handed her her coffee.  He looked her over and gave out a breathless, “Hi.”  Yes, she looked good.

Based on her clothing choices yesterday and this morning, Kevin would probably think she was ovulating, and he didn’t even know about Friday.  Maybe she was, but it didn’t change how she felt; it just made her more willing to act on it.  And maybe all she needed to discover this more open, free, lusty version of herself was just a little hormonal help.

God, she hated the panties that were cutting lines into her thighs and her lower waist.  Sorry, God, didn’t mean to use Your name as an exclamation.  Hey, while I have You on the line, do You mind if I don’t wear underwear in Your house? No response…oh well, it was worth a shot.  Maybe latter.

She ended her morning prayer in time to hear Kevin remind her about lunch with his mother.  The way he was focusing on her boobs implied he didn’t think his mother would approve.  Erica didn’t care and ignored his implication.  She just smiled back and said she knew.

Erica lead the way to the car.  Once they left the lobby and entered the parking lot, she found it was colder than she had expected.  Her nipples immediately hardened from the cold.  Her bra and dress hid the evidence well.  She felt a mixture of relief and sadness about that.  It seemed unfair to her that ladies’ nipples became hard when it was cold, but guy’s penises shrank.  She wished the cold made Kevin as rock-hard as her tits were now, especially with the tight slacks he wore.  She nibbled on her lip and got in the car.

As soon as she sat down, she felt her underwear rubbing into her thighs.  It wasn’t the pleasurable rubbing her pants had done on Friday when she first went sans, nor the uncomfortable bunching her panties had done when she put them on for the ride home.  This rubbing was a tight, almost cutting sensation.  If Kevin had known her new habit, she wouldn’t have thought twice about ripping them off.  But as it was, she was a good Baptist girl headed to church, and taking off her underwear in the car just wouldn’t do.

So she suffered through.  She adjusted to find a less painful position and settled on one that made her underwear nothing but an annoying pinching sensation.  The idea of wearing a skirt or dress without panties also helped distract her.  She had worn her robe that way at home, but the idea of going out of the apartment that way made her wet down there.  In that moment she decided how she was going to dress for work tomorrow.

Most of the week she drove her car and Kevin drove his truck, but on Sundays Kevin drove her car and also got her door for her.  It was kind of patriarchal, but mostly sweet.  It also gave her a chance to catch up on the Facebook posts from Sunday school classmates.  Going into a Sunday morning conversation with nothing but a smile was dooming, but having these highlights to cue off of made small talk a breeze.

When they parked at church, Erica dutifully waited for Kevin to get her door.  As soon as he opened it a cold blast of spring air hit her.  Her nipples stood at instant attention.  She would have paid more attention to this, but as she got out of the car she felt her panties sawing into her leg, this time assaulting the outside of her legs and cutting a line between her butt and thighs.  Once she was standing, the pain stopped.  Her mind once again drew to her nips.  She could feel that the car ride had been bumpier than expected.  It had caused her nipples to rise up in the cup to where only the lace was hiding her tits.  The cold hasn’t been arousing, but the feel of the lace rubbing them was.  She could pretend to have to go to the bathroom to fix it, but it wasn’t painful or too much.  So she left her freely displayed high-boosted cleavage where it was for the walk across the parking lot.

Their class consisted of eight couples that came every week and a rotating cast of eight more that showed up less regularly.  Erica and Kevin were in the first group.  They had some church friends in this class and some that had gone to other classes.  Church friends are the people that know you’re kooky, not freaky.  Though some let their freak flag fly without realizing it.  Molly, one of the more regular rotators, was wearing bondage gear under her shirt this week, the cheap kind you buy from Wish or Temu.  Erin, a full-time attendee, wore short dresses and thongs.  Erica knew this because one time Erin’s skirt got caught on the chair back and pulled up over her waist on one side, and she flashed her thong and right cheek to anyone that walked behind her that class.

The clothing in class was a mixed bag.  About a third of the women in class always wore dress on Sundays like Erica, another third wore pants, and the last third mixed it up.

Class was called to order by their teachers, an older couple called the Walkers (something they’d likely need soon).  Mr. Walker did most of the actual teaching with his wife listening silently from the seat next to him…a model the slightly patriarchal man wanted the other women in class to follow.  That isn’t to say he was a bad teacher.  He knew his Bible and loved the Lord, but the greatest generation definitely had some outdated ideas on gender dynamics and women in the workforce.  He also used an absurd number of golf references that almost no one in class got.

They were somewhere in the New Testament, likely Paul’s letters, but Erica wasn’t paying attention, her mind too busy wondering if she was the only one who went without panties.  Seated around the table like they were, she couldn’t tell for sure, which gave her some confidence. How specific did the lighting and position have to be to tell? She didn’t spend too much time looking on the way in, but no one’s outfits screamed, “Commando!”

At the end of class Erica intentionally held back and watched the other women to see if she could figure out their underwear situation.  Kevin had gone over to talk to Issac, the class’s default substitute teacher, about an overnight camping trip he was planning.  The most surprising part that Erica overheard was that his wife Susan would go with him.  Susan was best described as a big dog that acted and dressed like a pampered lap dog.  Currently her very plus-size self was wearing a sheer top blouse and pencil skirt with obvious panty lines.  The idea of her, with her perfectly manicured nails, in the woods was laughable to say the least.

Of the rest of the women, three in pants or leggings had overt panty lines and the slit in Erin’s dress went all the way up and exposed the waistline of her G-string.  It was no wonder she had three kids already.  The rest were undeterminable.

Erica realized on the walk to the sanctuary that her panties hadn’t bothered her during class.  She had been aware of them, and they were still too snug, but they hadn’t hurt her.  She hopped big church would be just as kind.

And it was, to begin with.  But given that Baptist churches treat their congregations like Protestant yo-yos, she had to stand and sit repeatedly, causing her panties to bunch up in the front.  And dig tightly into her cheeks in the back.  Seated in the back row as she was, she wondered if there was any way she could discreetly fix them or take them off.  In the end she suffered through.

Her seat in the back row also afforded her a chance to see what the other women were wearing under their clothes.  For the most part it was pretty hard to tell.  Unless she was wearing pants or a skirt that was too tight, her underwear choice remained her secret.  Mrs. Perkins made her undies choice obvious to everyone.  Even when standing normally, her tight shiny skirt showed the outline of her equally tight thong.  Both likely fit her better a decade or three ago.

One of the older youth girls was wearing tight leggings, but she wasn’t showing any panty lines.  The why became evident when she leaned over before sitting down.  The top of her crack showed embarrassingly well.  She didn’t have a stitch on under her leggings.  Erica smiled to herself, but she wasn’t sure if an eighteen-year-old going commando supported or detracted from her own lingerie choice.

By the time preaching had started, her nipples were completely clear of her bra, and her breasts strained heavily against her square neckline. The sermon was (surprise, surprise) more from the Apostle Paul.  As long as she didn’t have to start wearing head coverings to church, she was fine with it.  He did write most of the New Testament, after all.

As soon as the service was over, Erica rushed to the bathroom, pulled her skirt up, and looked the offending panties in the crotch.  They were still gathered in the front.  If she had had a mirror to check, she would have seen the back pulled so tight that every detail of her rear could be seen through the fabric.  She pulled them down to release the tension on the back and let the fabric reset in the front.  She stood there for a moment holding the panties, savoring the freedom down there.  Her skirt delicately swished over her butt.  Her formerly over-covered pussy savored the gentle breeze from the circulating air.

It was then she saw the problem.  “Medium?” She surprised herself when she said it out loud.  She hadn’t worn medium panties since before she was married.  She thought she had gotten rid of them all, but apparently she was wrong.  That was it then.  There was no way she was going to keep wearing a pair of mediums.  She’d toss them in the trash and go without, but…someone would see her trashing her panties, and that might lead to an awkward conversation, and she still had lunch with Mom 2.  She wasn’t ready to sit across from her mother-in-law without panties.  So reluctantly she shoved her legs back into the small panties, flushed the toilet for show, and went out to wash her hands.

She was greeted at the sink by Susan.  “I’m so glad y’all are joining us on our next camping trip.”

This was news to Erica, but she said, “Me too, I can’t wait.”  Then she dried her hands and hurried to the car.  She and Kevin needed to have a long talk about making commitments without talking to each other first.

And they did.  The entire ride to lunch they “talked” about it.

“Issac is going to be the next class teacher.  If we get in good with him, that gives us a lot of clout.”

“I don’t care about clout.  I told you, I don’t play social games.”

“But you’d be so good at them.  You study everybody.”

“I don’t study them to manipulate them.”

“It’s not manipulation, it’s…tactical friendship.”

“I’m not looking for a tactical friendship, I just want normal friendships.”

“Then what’s your problem with going camping?”

“I don’t have a problem with camping, I just wished you had talked to me before making plans.”

“Like you haven’t done the exact same thing.”  And then the conversation took a turn Erica would prefer wasn’t recorded.

They argued the entire way there and the only thing it accomplished was distracting Erica from the sadistic panties.

When they got out of the car they put on their fake smiles that they usually reserved for Sunday mornings.

They had lunch at a restaurant, neutral territory.  Neither one of them told his mom they were arguing, but based on the higher-than-normal number of glares she gave Erica, she knew.  Conversation was kept to the regular and relatively safe topics.  Weather, business, “when am I getting grandkids?”, the usual.

At the end of lunch Kevin ventured into unsafe territory.  “Have you talked to Dad recently?”

“Honey, I haven’t talked to your father since he married that harlot in California.”  Mom 2 spat out every word of the sentence like it was adder venom.  The check couldn’t come quickly enough after that.  As soon as it was paid, she hugged and kissed Kevin and gave another glare to Erica.  Then she left.

Erica and Kevin went out to the car soon after, making sure to give Mom 2 enough time to leave the parking lot.  When they got to the car, Kevin opened her door for her.  His light carefree walk made Erica think he had forgotten about their argument.  That was fine.  Erica had a more pressing fact to lay on him.

As soon as he sat down, she blurted out, “Your mother hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, she just thinks the only reason I married you was for the sex.”

“Did you?”

“‘Just’ is such a constraining word.  I married you because I love you.  The fact that your sex drive is as strong as mine is just a bonus.  A really good bonus,” he began to drift off into his mind

“Your mother was glaring at me the entire time.”

“Because your boobs are almost popping out your top.”

Erica looked down.  Sure enough, her breasts were now completely out of her bra and bulged against the square neck opening.  “So they are.”  She left them as they were.

Kevin cleared his throat.  “About earlier.  I’m sorry I agreed to go camping without talking to you.  I can tell Issac we can’t go.”

“It’s fine.  I’m okay with camping, just please talk to me first next time.”

“Okay, baby.”

Erica leaned over and kissed him.

“Oh!” Kevin pointed at her chest.

She looked down.  The tops of her areolas poked out above her neckline.  “Oh!” Erica sat back down.  She smiled at Kevin and buckled her seatbelt, which pulled the top tighter along the curve of her breasts.

Kevin took the bumpiest way home he could.  After each pothole he checked if her boobs had come any higher.  Erica was really getting into this game.  As they neared their street she reached up under her skirt and pulled down her panties.  Without the straps cutting into her she could fully enjoy Kevin’s attention to her chest.  Also being in a skirt or in a car, or whatever, without panties really excited her too.

By the time they made it to their apartment her nipples were almost out of her top.  Kevin didn’t want to wait to get to the bedroom.  As soon as the apartment door was closed, he picked up her and put her on the counter.  He kicked off his shoes and dropped his pants in record time.  Then he proceeded to flip her skirt up out of the way and press his fully erect member into her moistened pussy lips.  Erica leaned back, bracing on the counter with her hands, her cursed panties gripped in her fingers.

Kevin kissed along the top of her breasts and tried licking down at her nipple.  But for his trouble he got a taste of her dress.  When she felt his dick slip in, he began to thrust into her.  He pulled his head back and grabbed her hips.  Erica felt him rubbing against her lips, but she wanted more of him.  She slid her hips forward and rotated them until she felt him drive deep.

Their groins met as he pulled her off the counter.  She felt her nipples moving higher and higher as they crashed into each other.  She leaned back, savoring his strength on her hips and womanhood.  His eyes were fixed on her ever-rising breasts.  Soon they cleared her top.  Erica felt the neckline sliding down the underside of her bouncing breasts.  Then she felt Kevin explode within her.  His hands squeezed into her waist until it was almost painful.  He looked at his wife smiling with pleasure feeling him get his pleasure.  His pulses lessened and he began to shrink out of her.  Erica missed the fullness he gave her down there already.  Kevin kissed her nipples gently as he put her butt back on the counter.  He slipped out and stumbled to the bedroom for a rag to wipe them off.

Erica felt their juices sliding out of her.  She used her panties for something good and wiped herself off.  By the time Kevin came back she was clean and the panties were very dirty.

“Do you need me to put these in the laundry?” he offered.

“Put them in the trash.  They’ve been trying to cut my thighs off all day.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”  Kevin kissed the red marks on her thighs before grabbing her panties and heading for the trash can.

Erica hopped down and went to the bedroom.  She popped off her bra and settled her breasts back into her shirt before opening her underwear drawer to get a new pair.  She had a lot of pairs.  What were the odds of getting a pair that was too small this morning? What were the odds now? Better not tempt fate.  She left them all in there and walked away.