Amy's Merciless Panty Tease Pt. 04

As much as I loved Stephen, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't looked forward to today all week. He was as attentive as a partner as he was a father but I'd had a taste of excitement and was itching for more.

I stirred the yoghurt atop my fruit salad listlessly pondering the suffering I'd endured. A whole twelve days of frustration since my last bout of intimacy with Paul, we were long overdue for more alone time. Had he thought about my touch that night as much as I had?

A light gust of guilt would wash over me whenever I thought about Stephen away with work for the next couple of weeks not knowing what was happening under his own roof... I'd never been unfaithful in my life and wasn't about to start now but surely there was nothing untoward about some healthy education for Paul.

I adjusted the pink headband I'd picked for our outing, the one touch of cuteness in my otherwise casual outfit comprised of grey tank top, tight blue skinny jeans and black three-inch square heeled sandals.

Stephen strolled back from picking up the cheque, grey storm clouds behind him, juxtaposed by morning sunlight in front, filtering through the leafy lattice covering our café table. The salt and pepper clouds matching his regal hair as he lugged himself forward.

"You two are kings of the castle while I'm off," Stephen declared patronizingly, sitting at my left. I liked it when he talked to Paul and I as though we were siblings. "Behave yourselves... no late nights I hope!"

For all his success in life, he was a wishy-washy teddy bear as soon as he'd come home each day. Still, I can imagine the insecurity of leaving the house to someone else for a while, even if it was just Paul and I.

I gazed across the table at Paul's unfocused doe eyes resting innocently on his breakfast.

Placing my left foot behind my right, I slipped off my sandal. With only a strap across my toes and another two inches above, it came loose effortlessly, allowing me to raise my bare foot and place it quietly on Paul's chair, between in his parted legs without him noticing.

"You're both so cagey, I'm just winding you up! So long as the game is recorded this weekend you can eat me out of house and home for all I care!"

I smiled turning toward Stephen, placing my hand on his while lifting my foot under the table and gently resting it on Paul's groin. I spoke quickly to cover the splutter from his mouth.

"We'll be just fine hun. All fun and games, nothing to be cagey about," I said, a grin spreading itself across my face.

I could feel a stirring under my foot, softness beginning to swell. From the corner of my eye, I made out Paul peering through the wicker table probably just making out my white painted toenails at his lap brightening his otherwise dreary, grey morning...

"Besides we'll have to keep the place nice and tidy, since you've missed golf two weekends in a row now... and treating me to such a fancy night out!" I said cheerily. "Won't we Pauly?"

Paul squirmed uncomfortably, now with two sets of eyes on him and swallowed his last bite of eggs.

"My room's clean and it's not my night out, but go for your life I guess," he shrugged.

I gave my foot one last slow circular wiggle, feeling Paul squirm awkwardly, now at full mast.

"Nice work, see we're already getting things off on the right foot," I teased, before lowering my leg down again and sliding back into my heel, our key clinking slightly as it jiggled against my anklet.

I couldn't believe Steven still hadn't noticed my new set of jewellery.

Leaving the cover of the tabletop might not be the first thing Paul wanted right now but I had things to pickup before Stephen and I had our night at the theatre.

"It's been such a long time since our last outing, I think I'll need to sort an outfit for the evening! Come on Pauly, we'll meet your father back home."

"Alright, have fun you two. I'll be packing for the morning."

My tight jeans stretching as I stood, leaning over to plant a goodbye kiss on Stephen's cheek before heading out of the café with a very fidgety Paul in tow.

"Think a storm might be brewing," I noted casually as we made our way inside the mall through the cool November air.

After a moment of waiting for Paul's response, I turned back to see his hands clutched below his waist, a bashful look on his pimply face, looking like a kid that had wet himself. I smiled reassuringly.

Without saying a word, I took one of his hands, forcing him to let the other go. He'll relax in a moment.

Our fingers interlocked as we strode down the marble pathway of the crowded mall, his other hand now in the pocket of his baggy shorts probably clutching whatever was stirring down below.

Warm butterflies fluttered through me as we strolled for several minutes hand in hand, getting the odd look of approval from strangers as they scanned us up and down.

"Do you think people assume we're a couple?" I asked giddily.

Paul chuckled nervously, surveying the people around us.

"I mean... They must be confused. You are years... and I mean years older," he quipped.

I laughed, giving him a playful punch on his upper arm. At not even a decade younger he knew he was unlikely to offend me.

I placed my other hand on his, now holding him with both and resting my head on his shoulder, my black ponytail swinging with each step as we strolled. Even with a few extra inches of heel, he still stood a good head above. I'll bet he felt like a real grown man getting the full girlfriend experience.

I was so looking forward to having the house to ourselves for a couple of weeks. I could; give Paul a big wet kiss whenever I pleased, wake up to a cooked breakfast each morning, I might even have him wash my panties daily instead of weekly. He'll love that, I thought excitedly.

Peering ahead, I saw my outlet of choice, now only a few strides away.

"Don't worry bestie I'm not really taking you dress shopping, I know that wouldn't really be your vibe... This might be though!"

Paul's pace slowed as he read the sign ahead, all in a pink swirly ribbon-like font.

Cupid's Corset

"Come on bud, nothing to blush over, just need something fun for my last night with your father for a while."

Embarrassed or not this was quite the treat for my little assistant and surely he knew it. Cautiously at first, we walked inside, our fingers still interlocked.

I glanced up at Paul, looking like a nervous kid in a forbidden candy store, his eyes filling with every frilly, lacy, stringy option.

"Where to first Pauly?"

The small boutique must've only had six or seven customers at best, us included but it could've been a crowded supermarket full of judging eyes as far as Paul was concerned.

"Go on, tell me what takes your fancy. May as well find something you like too given you'll be looking after them in the laundry..."

Paul slouched down keeping his eye-line below the isles of undergarments like a nervous deer ducking behind tall grass. After warily stepping away from the entrance, he fiddled apprehensively with a red piece of thread nearby.

"Ooh fun, those look racey," I excitedly announced, my voice carrying through the store as I picked up the small piece of material in Paul's hands.

"See these are backless so they look like briefs at first but there's nothing covering your butt. These might suit me huh," I prompted cheekily.

He eyed the bright garment tantalisingly dangling in my hands.

"I... Ah... don't quite get how they work but..."

I watched him politely search for words that wouldn't give away his lacklustre opinion or that he wasn't picturing me in them...

"It's ok, I'm not feeling them either. Besides these don't come as a set... I always think it's cute when my bra and panties match! Have a look around and see if you find any that come together, I want to make tonight special for your father."

Paul reluctantly placed his first pair back as unforgiving florescent light illuminated his every move.

"You take that isle and I'll keep looking here. I'm a thirty-inch waist, bra size thirty-two C and remember, when it comes to lingerie, delicate is best with just a little left to the imagination."

I turned to strut confidently in the opposite direction, casually scanning racks for something suitable. Paul must be getting a thrill surrounded by so much possibility no matter how self-conscious he might feel left alone in here.

One day he'll have a girlfriend of his own, I'm sure of it. Then they could play dress-ups to his heart's content. For now though, I was just warming him up for her, nothing wrong with that.

After a minute or so Paul returned hastily with an offering, probably keen to get our outing moving.

"Oh well done Pauly, you've found a few options!"

Trying to hide a proud expression from ruining his façade of reluctance, he held three up. Still unwilling to lower my voice, I explained his findings as though he'd brought me different loafs of bread at the supermarket.

"So first it looks like we have a cheeky cut, see they're like boy shorts but a bit higher. I like the deep blue color and the trim on the bra with these... What do you think?" I asked holding them up to my body.

"They... look... I think you look really good with them Amy..."

"Thanks bud, let's see what else you've got."

More hesitantly this time he passed the second option into my open hand.

"Wow ok, these are cute..." I grinned, letting the black whisper of thread unscrunch itself downward.

"So this is what's called a T-string. Can you see why?" I asked with a smirk, turning myself to hold the miniscule strips of material up to the tightly stretched denim over my behind.

I giggled as he nodded coyly. Facing him again, I held them up to just below his eye level.

"It's basically just a little strip with two strings attached to keep it in place... I always feel naked in these! Sometimes I forget there's a piece of thread up my cheeks..."

His face started to light up again, eyeballing the black, opaque, matchbox sized pouch.

"These are my favorite so far, I think your father might like them too... Alright bud, last option what've you got?"

I looked around at the now slightly emptier store, feeling a gaze on us from the assistant at the register as he passed his final selection forward. The soft dark lavender material met my warm fingers with a welcome gentleness.

"I um... I though purple might be good?" he asked timidly.

I caressed the intricate floral pattern outlining each skinny bra cup, matching both the front and back of the adorable panty below their coat-hanger.

"Good is right... The lavender is super cute and I love the pattern. Obviously, this is a G-string but it looks half see-through behind each flower on the front. I haven't got any like that..."

Turning them over, I stretched the slim behind between my fingers until I reached the elongated triangle at the rear.

"Well, what do you think mister? Would this look cute all tucked neatly up Lamey's tooshie?"

Paul's dinner plate eyes froze momentarily before nodding with the rest of his scruffy, pimply head. He knew he was in for a show at some point but I wasn't about to spoil our fun too soon. Both my boys would enjoy these, how fabulous.

"I think so too... Alright have a read of the cleaning instructions on the tag so you'll be ready when they need a wash."

I shot him a wickedly gleeful look, pointing my right foot outward and flashing the key on my anklet in the fluorescent light as I fumbled through my purse for moment. He scanned my new undergarments bewilderingly.

"Here we are, take my card and go up and hand our new G-string to the nice lady at the register."

A panicked look washed over him as our fingers touched for a flicker of a moment.

"Go on, don't be shy... and put the others back before you do, they'll have to wait till next time."

*****

I stared up at the ceiling, tracing cracks in the paint with my eyes. Any futile attempt to keep my mind off Amy the past few weeks had been hopeless.

Picturing her perfect, fit body in those tiny things we looked at this morning would surely be yet another incredible image fused onto my mind for good, I thought.

Feeling the soft duvet beneath me, I rolled over to my side, gazing over at the pristine floor that Amy now had me keeping immaculate each day. Her cute little feet had tip toed across that very carpet twelve days ago now. I could still feel her hand around me...

That same foot in my lap this morning nearly made me explode. The restraint it took not to grab it and place little kisses on each toe again was enormous. Is that what she wanted? I could never tell. What was life about to be like with just the two of us for next couple of weeks?

My hand made its way up my legs involuntarily. Amy's toes were crystal clear in my mind, her white nail polish on my lips, her new purple lingerie disappearing in her sweet little crack. My hand started pumping slowly.

"I want you to think about this next time you stroke."

How could I think about her this way if she knew I was doing it? If she was the one telling me to do it? She wouldn't get the satisfaction if she didn't know... but somehow, she'd find out, I was sure of it.

A loud buzz from the bedside table broke my concentration, my hand jumping away from my lap and upward, grabbing hurriedly.

Amy's name on my phone always made my heart jolt. I'd tried changing it to 'Lamey,' 'Amy Kwon,' 'Unknown'... They all had the same effect. I squinted at her message.

"Only one last thing on your list bestie. Down in the basement... Happy Saturday! x"

One last thing? I'd checked my list of chores this morning when I was alone upstairs and there was nothing left on it. Not even the laundry was left over. My father had to miss golf today like last Saturday, which meant Amy was doing it herself for a change but it was done.

Had she already worn her new pair of panties and wanted them cleaned, is that what this was about? My curiosity would nag at me if I didn't at least see what she had downstairs... I could always say I hadn't.

Sliding out of bed and ducking my head around the corner of the doorframe, I waited until I heard voices from the bedroom down the hall. I had the rest of the house to myself.

After making my way downstairs and past the kitchen I began to rethink. Amy had a hold on me like nothing before and it was getting to be like a drug. Would two weeks with her be a good thing or more torment?

Then again, the moments of closeness... Amy's lips on mine, her body in my lap, toes at my face. Deciding it wasn't worth rocking the boat so close to some time alone with her, I opened the basement door and made my way downstairs.

I assessed the mostly empty space, complete with our old TV, shabby lounge and dusty rug in the centre of the room. My father once had dreams of turning this into a den but they never eventuated. Instead, it now stood as a time capsule of our old living room. What did she want with me down here?

I hunted through relics for a few minutes wondering if this space was once meant as an escape from reality, now no longer necessary since Amy moved in...

I heard the loud clacking of footsteps above and quicky grabbed an old tool kit lying next to me amongst the other lazily packed pieces of storage.

"Hey bud"

Hearing the soft high-pitched voice from above I lay the tool kit down.

"Oh, it's you," I replied in an exhale.

I turned to face the source of the clacking footsteps sauntering down the stairs. My breath escaped my body as my eyes hungry lapped up the sight slowly coming into view.

One shiny black stiletto after the other clacked down each step, long dark shimmering material dancing over tanned legs and up to a low neckline hanging from spaghetti straps just under Amy's luminous black hair at her shoulders, a middle part leaving two strands to frame her pretty, made-up face. She looked incredible.

Her cocktail style dress appeared modest at first, save for the long slit up her right leg ending just below her hip.

"You... um... look nice Amy," I quivered politely.

"Thanks sweetie!" she beamed. "Your father's about to take a shower, we'll be off in about forty-five minutes."

I couldn't stop eyeballing the exquisite outfit outlining her petite womanly frame as she stood a few steps above the basement floor. Her simple, symmetrical face was the perfect canvas for whichever beautiful look she required. Was she the quiet girl in high school or in the popular group? Amy could've had whatever she wanted.

"Only thing is, I noticed a few scuffs on my heels... Thought that might be a nice final weekend job for my little helper..."

I watched her sweet expression shoot a glimmer of cheekiness.

"Oh.. ok... yeah, I think we have that stuff down here," I said looking over my shoulder to the pile of boxes.

"Good. I'm ready when you are bud."

Amy walked down the final step and over to one of our old dining room chairs.

The last thing I was in the mood for was more unnecessary chores but maybe if it meant getting the place to myself all night. Not to mention, this was a vast improvement on cleaning floors and countertops. I pictured Amy sliding her feet out of each heel. Maybe she'd want me to put them back on for her once they were ready? Her cute little toes were flawless and she knew it. Anything to make me go red, I thought frustratedly.

After a short rummage, I found a box of shoe polish, rag and brush. Clearly unused since Mom's days in this house, I wiped off the lid and turned to face Amy again, now placed expectantly, knees together on the chair by the rug.

"That looks right Pauly, nothing you haven't done before, I'm sure."

I paced slowly toward her, stooped in front, expecting her heels to be off by now.

"Just a quick polish with that dark black color you have at the end of the box I think," she ordered softly.

I placed the old, cardboard shoebox next to me, removed the polish and brush and looked down at her heels sitting tightly on her feet, neatly together on the rug. Amy sat back in her seat and crossed her legs. Her dress fell to either side of her lap, the slit revealing her long legs as her right foot raised up to my face.

Nervously, I looked up at her unphased expression and down at her heel again. Trying not to glance at her thighs, now tantalizingly exposed, I moved both hands toward her heel to carefully remove it.

"No need for that," she said casually. "I know you'll be careful enough not to get polish on my skin."

I looked up at her kind smile as though she'd just paid me a compliment.

Opening the polish tin, I moved the brush inside and scraped a small amount over the bristles. Placing my hand under the cream sole of her heel, I moved my brush up to meet the leather.

I felt a swelling in my lap as I inhaled the smell of polish mixed with the unmistakable scent of her leather covered feet.

"Good job buddy, I knew you'd be my clever man."

The sound of bristles swishing back and forth carried through the otherwise silent space.

"I was so sad when I saw my drab looking heels this afternoon and thought I might've left it too late... Then I noticed my dress is just high enough that it doesn't matter if the polish doesn't dry before I leave!"

Her gleaming heel stood tall and proud like a skyscraper full of rich people that would never let me in. I held her foot up slightly higher feeling the weight of her leg pressing down into my hand.

"I knew my little helper wouldn't want me to have shabby feet..."

I anxiously scrubbed, slowly approaching the top of her heel.

"Careful bud, not so much as a dot of polish on my foot please."

Brushing further down again, I noticed black marks beginning to form around my hands. Would this come out, I wondered as I tried to help myself from ogling her thighs, her soft skin crossed firmly together.