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Such a Naughty Boy
by rat_race

As I was standing there facing that bathroom vanity counter top that day, raised up onto the balls of my feet and methodically hand-pumping my fully-erect penis, barely moments away from ejaculating my semen directly onto the carefully-placed, flattened-out crotch of Susie’s panties, I had no idea just how much of an impact that this single, depraved sex act would end up having on me.

But when I finally opened my eyes (as my orgasmic sensations were slowly easing up), and I saw all the little globs and streamers of my freshly-ejaculated sperm all over the crotch-panel of those previously-clean panties–and also saw my now-mildly-pulsating dick-head, with its seemingly-endless little stream of sperm that was still oozing out of my piss-hole slit to fall almost straight downward and land right “on-target”–I realized that I had just done something very perverted; and at the same time, extremely exciting. I knew that I had once again managed to crossover into the world of sexual perversion, and I didn’t care one single bit. In fact, I wondered when I would get the chance to do it again.

But most of all, I wondered if Susie would eventually put these adulterated panties on, and wear them.

But let me back up a little bit, and start this story from a point where all of this might make a little more sense to you.

As a teenager, I used to hang out at Davy’s house a lot. He was a very good friend of mine, who just happened to live on the same street as me in our neighborhood. So it was very easy for me to walk over to Davy’s house any time that I wanted to.

During that one particular summer, I had been hanging around at Davy’s house so much, that his mother and his two sisters pretty much treated me as part of their family. I went out places with them, ate meals with them, and so forth.

But one of my favorite things to do was to hang out with Davy in his bedroom. And we would talk about all sorts of teenager kind of stuff, usually while building incredibly realistic-looking, kit-based model cars together. That was Davy’s hobby and his passion. And he was a true expert at assembling, painting and detailing model cars.

At any rate, it was late in the afternoon on a Saturday, and I was over at Davy’s house, visiting with him.

It also just happened to be the very next day after we had both secretly witnessed his younger sister, Susie, and her best friend, Sharon, making love (tribbing together) in the back yard of Sharon’s house. And of course, that topic was the very first thing that Davy and I talked about, once we were safely inside Davy’s bedroom, with the bedroom door closed.

“So how did you know about Susie and Sharon last night?” I asked.

“I didn’t,” Davy replied cryptically. “I mean, I’ve had my suspicions about Susie for a while. That’s why I warned you about getting serious with her. I just knew that she’d be a real heart-breaker, and I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

“What do you mean by ‘you had your suspicions’?”

“I don’t know. It just seemed like every time I turned around, either Sharon was having another sleepover with Susie here at our house, or Susie was having a sleepover with Sharon at her house. I mean, don’t you think those girls are a little bit too old to be having sleepovers all the time? It just struck me as a little strange, that’s all. And then there’s the way those two behaved around each other. What with all their kissing, and hugging, and holding hands, and stuff like that. I knew that something just didn’t feel ‘right’ about their relationship.”

“But how did you know to come and get me, and take me over to Sharon’s house last night?”

“I didn’t originally come over for that reason. I was coming over to see if you wanted to sneak out with me, and have a smoke,” said Davy.

(Davy and I were the proud owners of two very-inexpensive corn cob pipes and some crappy drugstore pipe tobacco that we used to secretly smoke, while we were talking with each other during our late-night sneak-outs).

“But when I started walking to your house,” Davy continued, “I noticed lots of giggling and some other weird sounds coming from Sharon’s back yard, and so I went over to check it out. And when I looked over the wall, I could barely believe what I was seeing. So I left and came straight over to your house, figuring that you, of all people, deserved to see what I saw.”

“Wow! Well, thanks for comin’ to get me,” I said. “I’m not gonna lie to you. That was one of the most incredible things that I’ve ever seen!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Davy quickly agreed. “How do you think I feel? I was watching my own little sister ‘gettin’ it on’ with another girl, right in front of me.”

“Did that turn you on?” I asked. “I mean, I saw your hand down in your crotch, while we were watching the girls go at it.”

“Hey, look who’s talking. I saw your hand too. Come on, admit it. You were jacking it off inside your pants, just like I was.”

“Oh, hell yes, I was jacking it off. I actually spermed my underwear,” I finally admitted.

“Oh, gee. What a surprise!” Davy said, very sarcastically. “Like I didn’t.”

“Well, I did it twice!” I blurted out in an automatic attempt to one-up Davy, but then suddenly realized that that was something that Davy really didn’t need–or want–to know.

And after an awkward moment of silence, Davy said to me in an overly-serious tone-of-voice, “God, I hate sticky underwear. Don’t you?” And then he grinned from ear-to-ear, before finally busting out in laughter. And of course, I followed suit.

Finally Davy got serious again, but this time it was obvious to me that his seriousness was very real, as he said to me, “I’ve never told anyone this before, but I’ve always ‘had the hots’ for Sharon. And you’ve gotta admit, she was smokin’ hot last night! God, that girl’s got an awesome set of ‘gazongas’ on her!”

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” I agreed; even though the truth was that I would always prefer Susie’s puffed-out, little breast-bud mounds over Sharon’s big, bouncing boobies any day of the week. And it was Susie–not Sharon–that I was fantasizing about, later that same evening, when I finally left Davy’s house, went back home, and inevitably ended up jacking myself off.

“Too bad she’s a lesbian,” I intentionally remarked as dead pan as I could.

“Yeah. Too bad,” Davy agreed, with a forced serious look on his face.

And then after a moment of staring each other down with serious looks on our faces, we both broke out laughing again. This time even harder. To the point that my abdominal muscles started hurting, and I had to do whatever I could to force myself to stop laughing.

Before I get any further into this story, I need to give you a little more background information about Davy’s unique and eccentric family.

Davy’s mother, Caroline, was a gorgeous-looking woman! She was a dead ringer for the famous actress, Elizabeth Taylor, back when Ms. Taylor was in her mid to late 30’s. And it wasn’t only Caroline’s face and her hair that looked like Ms. Taylor’s, either. It was her body, too.

I know, because I had seen Caroline’s curvaceous, naked body every time that I walked into the front living room of Davy’s house. There was a 4-foot-tall, oil-painted-on-canvas, full-color portrait of Davy’s totally nude mother, striking a very provocative pose–with her big boobs hanging out for all to see.

Caroline was also a very sweet person. But then she had to be, in order to stay married to Davy’s dad, who was kind of a keep-to-himself, stoic kind of guy. He was also an artist extraordinaire, and actually made a very good living doing nothing but artist-related work.

Davy’s father had met Caroline back when he was a young man in art school, and she used to model for his human anatomy art class to make some extra money while she was in college too. So Caroline was not only his wife, but his muse as well. That’s why there were nude drawings and different size nude paintings of Caroline on just about every wall of that house.

One time, while Davy’s parents and sisters were away from the house, leaving Davy and me alone, Davy took me into his dad’s and mom’s bedroom. He went over to one of their dressers, and pulled open the very bottom drawer. Then he reached in at the very back of the drawer, pulled out and produced a small album of photos, and then handed it to me.

Inside the small-but-thick photo album, were nothing but standard-size photos of his either scantily-clothed or totally-naked mother posing in different body positions. And naturally, some of those body positions were more sexually suggestive than others. And a few were even x-rated, porn-style, spread-legged photos that left nothing to the imagination, thanks to that sleek shaved vulva of hers.

I could barely believe that Davy and I were sitting there on his mom and dad’s bed, looking at photos of the very same vagina that Davy had come out of, when he was born. As you can well imagine, I felt completely overwhelmed, seeing all those super-racy nude photos of my friend’s mother.

I was also starting to get a boner. I couldn’t help it. Caroline was a definitely a true “MILF,” in every sense of that term. But she wasn’t the only female in that family who could give me a boner. Her two daughters were super-attractive young women themselves.

Caroline’s eldest daughter, Cathy, definitely took after her mother, in that Cathy had that same type of curvaceous, big-breasted, narrow-waisted, wide-hipped body that her mother had. Cathy also had a beautiful-looking face, and large powder-blue eyes. And at the time, she was going to college.

Back in her senior year at high school, Cathy had been the captain of the varsity cheer leading team, and she was voted the school’s homecoming queen that same year, as well.

The term “build like a brick shithouse” described Cathy to a “T.” Let’s just say that no healthy heterosexual man in this right mind would ever refuse a night in bed with Cathy–that is, if she ever decided to give him that chance. It goes without saying that Cathy would never give someone like me–a super-nerdy type of guy–the time of day, if I weren’t friends with her little brother.

Caroline’s youngest child was Susie. She was about a year younger than Davy (and Cathy was a couple years older than him), which meant that Susie was about the same age as me, and we got along fabulously.

In fact, Susie and I ended up “going steady” as boyfriend and girlfriend for a few months. What with her straight-across-cut bangs, and her long fine straight dishwater-blond hair, Susie definitely had that “California girl” look down pat. And I was head-over-heels for her. As far as I was concerned, Susie walked on water.

When it came to body-type, Susie was the exact opposite of her older sister, Cathy:
* Cathy had large, sweater-bulging boobs. Susie’s “boobs” really amounted to nothing more than glorified nipples.
* Cathy had wide hips, which helped give her that traditional hourglass shape, whereas Susie had boyish-looking, narrow hips.
* At around 5′ 10″ or so, Cathy was fairly tall for a girl, and she had an athletic build. On the other hand, Susie was thin and petite, coming in about 5 or 6 inches shorter in height than her older sister.

And it should come as no surprise that the two sisters’ personalities couldn’t have been more different from one another, with Cathy being the bubbly extrovert (once again, taking after her mother), and Susie being the demure introvert.

If you want to know more about Susie, you can read about her yourself in my “Tale of Two ‘Tribbies'” story that I already posted to this same website. In that story, I mentioned that after Susie had broken up with me (and after Davy and I had secretly caught her “getting it on” and tribbing with her best friend, Sharon, in Sharon’s back yard), I still wanted to fuck Susie so badly, that I could barely stand it. But I also knew now that Susie was never going to allow my dick to come anywhere near her pussy.

So right after that little unexpected “excursion into the weird world of lesbian scissoring” that Davy and I ended up taking that night, I began to try to figure out if there was a way that I could somehow get back at Susie, without her ever knowing that I was getting back at her. I know that sounds crazy. But it all made total sense to me at the time.

You see, Susie didn’t just break up me. She dumped me! Without any warning to me. And without any sign whatsoever that anything had “gone wrong” in our relationship. Heck, she had been cuddling up with me, and French-kissing me, all the way up until the night before she dumped me.

And then, as if that weren’t bad enough, Susie had later gone around telling all her little girlfriends in the neighborhood that the reason why she had broken up with me, was because I wasn’t “a good boyfriend” to her (whatever that meant). And that pretty much ruined my reputation in the neighborhood, as far as me ever being considered as “boyfriend material” by any of Susie’s girlfriends.

At any rate, my getting back at Susie had all started out innocently enough, when I decided that I was going to steal a pair of Susie’s panties, and then wrap them around my dick the next time that I jacked myself off. In fact, I intended to keep her panties as a souvenir.

So one afternoon, about three weeks after Susie had broken up with me, Davy and I had the house to ourselves. And I was talking with Davy in his bedroom, when I excused myself, saying that I needed to go to the restroom down the hall.

I left Davy’s bedroom, snuck down the hall into Susie’s bedroom, quickly opened and closed her dresser drawers, one right after another, until I finally found the drawer with her panties in it. And then I grabbed a pair of panties from little clump of panties in the drawer. And when I was closing the drawer, I looked down at the floor, and I saw something that instantly caught my eye.

Right at the foot of Susie’s bed was a pair of white panties that were laying on the carpet, right next to some white lace-trimmed bobby socks, a white bra, a hot pink blouse, a blue jean material mini-skirt, and a pair of dainty sandals. Of course, those were articles of clothing that Susie had obviously been wearing, and then had taken off, letting them fall to the floor wherever they happened to land. Naturally, I headed straight for the soiled pair of panties, scooped them up in my hand, and quickly shoved them into my pocket.

I couldn’t believe it. I had hit pay dirt. Or maybe I should say “pussy dirt.” All I could think about was how Susie’s cute little pussy had been right up against the crotch of those panties recently. And I just had to find out if her pussy-smell was still on those panties.

So I headed to the bathroom down the hall, closed and locked the bathroom door behind me, pulled Susie’s soiled panties out of my pocket, and visually examined the inside of the crotch. I could see the yellowish stains spreading out over the center of the crotch-panel, and a narrow brown “skid mark” towards the rear of it, and I got really excited. I placed the stained crotch-lining right up against my nose, and then took several big, long sniffs.

Susie’s pussy-smell was definitely all over the crotch of those panties. At this point in my life, I had never smelled pussy before. At least, not up-close and personal, like that. And that soiled panty-crotch had a slightly soured and fishy kind of odor to it that truly defied description.

But nevertheless, Susie’s left-over pussy-smell was like ambrosia to me. It also must have been a super-strong aphrodisiac, because within less than 30 seconds from the time I had begun sniffing Susie’s soiled panty-crotch, my penis had automatically responded by becoming fully-erect. And it did this all on its own, without me even touching it with my hand. And before I knew it, I found myself doing something that, up until this point in time, I had never done before: jacking myself off at someone else’s house, instead of my own.

While standing up, facing the bathroom vanity sink and mirror, I whipped my hard-on out of my pants and began stroking myself, as I kept on sniffing away at the crotch of those wonderful, previously-worn panties.

I had originally intended to end my masturbation by ejaculating into the bathroom sink, so that it would be very easy for me to clean up all the sperm. But then I thought about the other pair of Susie’s clean panties that I still had in my other pocket, and I quickly decided that I was going to squirt my sperm all over the crotch of those clean panties (instead of into the bathroom sink), and then place the spermed panties back into the underwear drawer of Susie’s dresser, hoping that she would actually put them on and wear them at some point in the future.

I quit hand-pumping my dick just long enough to take the clean pair of panties out of my pocket, and carefully place the panties on top of the vanity, next to the sink, with inside of the underwear crotch-lining flattened out, and facing upward.

Then I continued to jack myself off with my right hand, trying my best to keep the head of my dick directly over the crotch panel of Susie’s clean panties, while I was holding the crotch of Susie’s soiled panties up to my nose with my left hand, as I was repeatedly sniffing away at it, like a male dog tenaciously sniffing away at a the bleeding, puffed-out vulva of a bitch in heat, that he was getting ready to mount and breed.

And as super-excited as I was, it didn’t take me more than a minute or two to make myself cum, luckily squirting the vast majority of my sperm directly onto the crotch-panel of those previously-clean panties (I said “luckily,” because I have the tendency to close my eyes, whenever I orgasm my ass off). Then afterwards, while guiding my dick-shaft with my hand, I used my dick-head to spread all the freshly-ejaculated sperm out, as evenly as I could, all over the panty-crotch.

Finally, I used some wet tissue paper to wipe the sperm off my dick-head. And then used some more wet tissue paper to wipe up the little sperm streamers that were now on the vanity counter top. This was the sperm that had squirted out so forcefully from my dick during my first few orgasmic spurts, that it had actually over-shot the panty-crotch.

And then, I carefully folded the sperm-soaked panties up, and placed them back into my pocket, before I finally took a piss and then left the bathroom.

I couldn’t believe what I had just done. I felt like such a pervert! But it was way too late for me to turn back now. Besides, I still needed to “complete my mission.”

So after making sure that no one was watching me (that Davy was still in his bedroom, with the bedroom door closed), I made a beeline to Susie’s bedroom. At first, I was going to place those sperm-soaked panties back in her dresser drawer. But then I saw the crumpled up clothing on the floor at the foot of her bed, and I realized that Susie would most like snap that something was “wrong,” if there wasn’t a pair of panties laying there on the carpet with the bra, and the bobby socks, and so forth.

And there was no way in hell that I was ever going to return Susie’s pussy-smell-infused panties back to her. No sir. Those “special” panties were destined to go back to my house permanently–and to never ever see the inside of a washing machine again–so that they could “live out their existence” as one of my “masturbation tools” of choice, for many years to come (I even made sure to always store those precious soiled panties of hers sealed up tightly in a plastic freezer bag, in order to preserve as much of Susie’s pussy-smell as possible, for as long as I possibly could).

So I grabbed hold of the previously clean pair of panties that I had just finished “marking,” and I tossed them onto the floor at the foot of the bed, right next to Susie’s other items of clothing.

And that was the very first time that I ever “marked” a girl.

I called it “marking,” because it was kind of similar to the way that a male dog will instinctively mark its territory, by strategically pissing on certain parts of it. Except that in my case, my “territory” was any object that had a good chance of coming into direct contact with an attractive girl’s pussy–and especially Susie’s. And instead of pissing urine like a dog does, I chose to “mark” my “territory” by “pissing” semen.

Well, needless to say, one panty-sperming (“marking”) didn’t turn out to be enough to satisfy what I would later refer to as my “marking urge.” And so, over the next few weeks, whenever I could get the chance, I went into the bathroom at Davy’s house, and I spermed the inside crotch-panels of at least four or five more pairs of Susie’s clean panties (one pair of panties at a time, of course), and then hid each pair of adulterated panties back in her dresser drawer afterwards (mixed right in with the rest of her clean panties), before heading back to Davy’s bedroom.

However, I still had no idea whether or not Susie was actually wearing any of those sperm-soaked panties. And if she was actually putting them on, I assumed that she would be wearing them after the sperm that I had left on the panty-crotch had completely dried up.

Then one day, something unexpectedly happened that took all this “marking” stuff up to a whole new level.

I was sitting on the toilet, taking a shit in the bathroom at Davy’s house one afternoon, when I looked up and noticed that Susie’s and Cathy’s damp swimsuits were hanging over the towel rack to dry. And that’s when an idea hit me like a rock.

After finishing up my “Number 2” stuff, I got up off the toilet seat and I carefully pulled the bottom part of Susie’s bikini off the towel rack. And I placed her bikini bottom on the vanity counter top, with the crotch lining side facing upward.

Then, while standing up, facing the vanity, I jacked myself off like crazy.

And within a couple of minutes at the very most, I was squirting most of my sperm all over the inside of the already-moist crotch lining of Susie’s bikini bottom.

Then, while guiding my dick-shaft with my hand, I used my dick-head to spread all that freshly-ejaculated sperm out, as evenly as I could, all over the crotch-lining of Susie’s bikini bottom.

Afterwards, I was going to use some wet tissue paper to wipe the sperm off my dick-head, and then wipe up the little sperm streamers on the vanity counter top. But another thought hit me all of the sudden. And I acted on it immediately, without even giving it a second thought.

I carefully pulled Cathy’s one-piece swimsuit off the towel rack, and spread the crotch-material over the open palm of my right hand, with the crotch lining facing upward, towards me.

Then I used her damp swimsuit crotch lining to wipe the sperm off my dick-head, and to also wipe up all the little sperm streamers from the vanity counter top. The bottom line was that, thanks to my quick thinking, the inside crotch lining of Cathy’s swimsuit was now coated with quite a good soaking of my freshly-ejaculated sperm.

Last, but not least, I carefully hung the two swimsuits back over the towel rack, in as close to the same positions as I had originally found them.

When I stepped out of that bathroom and into the hallway, I could have never guessed in a million years what was getting ready to happen next.

I heard Cathy yell down the hall to Susie, who was in her bedroom, “Hey, do you wanna go swimming?”

“Sure,” said Susie’s voice, from down the hall.

And then Susie came out of her bedroom, walked down the hall towards me, and stepped into the bathroom.

I was in shock. My heart was racing, and I could feel it up in my throat. I was so freaked-out by what was happening, that I could barely breathe.

Then the next thing I knew, Susie emerged from the bathroom, wearing her damp bikini. The very same bikini bottom that I just finished sperming moments before. And I knew that my sperm was still wet all over crotch of her swimsuit, and that hundreds–if not thousands–of my little sperm cells were actively “swimming” into the perpetually-moist crack of Susie’s pussy at that very moment.

And then Cathy went into the same bathroom, closed the door behind her, and finally came out, wearing the same one-piece swimsuit that had my freshly-ejaculated sperm right down the middle of the stretched swimsuit crotch material, which was form-fitting her vulva very nicely. It was hard for me not to stare at her pronounced camel toe.

Cathy even walked up to me, gave me a big hug and a quick peck on the cheek, and then said goodbye to me, right before she was getting ready to leave the house.

And neither girl made any remarks about the crotches of their swimsuits feeling weird, or sticky, or anything like that. Instead, they both calmly left Davy’s house, on their way to go swimming at the neighborhood pool.

I couldn’t believe it! I had not only managed to secretly place my wet sperm into Susie’s pussy crack, but I had also managed to secretly get a substantial amount of my “living” sperm cells up into her older sister’s pussy crack, as well.

I was on Cloud 9, at that point. As far as I was concerned, I had just fucked Susie and Cathy both–without either of them ever realizing it. And I also realized that the most-likely reason why I actually got away with it, like I did, was that my semen has always been more on the watery side, as opposed to being super-thick and gooey, like it is for some guys.

And then all of sudden, the gravity of this whole situation hit me. What if one of the sisters was ovulating right now, with my sperm cells merrily “swimming” their way up into her vagina?

In fact, what if both sisters just happened to be ovulating right now? I had read that it is extremely common for girls and women who live in the same household to have their menstrual cycles sync up with each other, so that they all end up having their monthly menstrual periods at the same time of the month.

Oh well, I thought to myself, There’s nothing I can really do about it right now. At this point, all I can really do is wait and see if either girl ends up getting pregnant because of me. God, I’ve got to stop doing this shit! I’m gonna get some poor girl pregnant, if I don’t.

Looking back on everything now, I really don’t regret what I did to Susie and Cathy. To the best of my knowledge, neither of the two young ladies in that household got pregnant from my having secretly fertilized their pussy cracks. And that made me very happy. Because believe it or not, even though I was doing everything I could to try to somehow get some of my sperm up into their pussy cracks, the last thing I wanted was for my sperm to actually end up getting one of those girls pregnant. Yeah, I know that sounds like some really weird and disjointed thinking on my part. But it’s the truth.

My main goal all along was to secretly get back at Susie for dumping me the overly-harsh way that she did. And I think that I ended up doing a very good job of that, if I do say so myself.

Susie, if you’re out there on the Internet somewhere, reading this right now, please don’t get too upset with me for being such a naughty boy, so many decades ago.

After all, back then, you were a very naughty girl, too. I mean, if tribbing with your girlfriend during a sleepover at her house isn’t naughty, then I don’t know what is.

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The Aftermath:

I’m not particularly proud to admit this, but my “marking” behavior didn’t end after I had “marked” Susie’s and Cathy’s swimsuits that day. Despite my best intentions to do otherwise, I simply could not stop myself from “marking” other girls and women who I liked a lot, and found to be sexually attractive. And I did this sporadically, over the course of the next several years. These other girls and women were inevitably close family friends and acquaintances of mine. But it made absolutely no difference to me whether they were 18, or 28, or 38 years old; or whether they were single or married. I still went ahead and “marked” them.

I most often “marked” the girls’ or women’s panties, which I would almost always “temporarily borrow” from their bedroom dresser drawers; although I did get a few panties from other places, like dirty clothes hampers, for example. And of course, I would gladly “mark” a girl’s swimsuit, if I happened to find one. But the bottom line is that, if I couldn’t manage to get a pair of panties or a swimsuit to “mark,” I would go into the bathrooms at those girls’ or women’s respective homes or apartments, so that I could search out–and then “mark”–anything that I thought might somehow come into direct contact with their pussies. And I do mean “anything.”

One time, I got really lucky and found this middle-aged lady’s vaginal douche bag that had been pulled apart, and was laying in two pieces on the side of the bathtub. So I quickly decided to “mark” that douche bag (by sperming directly down into the hard-plastic douche wand, and also sperming into the open end of the large, blue-colored squeeze-bulb itself). In fact, I actually made myself orgasm and ejaculate twice while I was doing that, just from the thought that my sperm was definitely going to be secretly placed deep inside of that lovely woman’s vagina the next time that she used that vaginal douche bag.

But what made things even more exciting for me during this unique douche bag “marking” experience was that this exceptionally-attractive woman was married, and she was also old enough to be my mother. And she just happened to be a dead ringer for Elizabeth Taylor. That having been said, I will let you draw your own conclusions…

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