Panty sniffing can of course be a risky activity. There is always the fear of being caught, of being exposed for indulging in this fetish. What follows is a true story of what happened to me when I gave in to temptation and stole a pair of panties. Going back a few years, when I was in my early twenties, I was going out with a girl who was very much into fitness. She would go to the gym regularly, jog most mornings, do aerobics and dancing. Sadly I didn’t share her enthusiasm for fitness, and sometimes we would fall out because of this. It felt as though she’d rather go to the gym with her friend Tracey than spend any time with me. I started to see a lot of Tracey. She was always around at the flat, either coming back from the gym with my girlfriend, or on their way out together to exercise. I suppose I was always attracted to Tracey. She had a very good figure, very curvy. But my attraction seemed to grow whenever I saw her standing around in her gym gear, with her tight shorts that showed her panty line. I found myself having to drag my eyes away, always scared that my girlfriend would notice where my attention was suddenly focused. I started to fantasise about Tracey, about her being all sweaty after a long workout, in those cute little shorts, peeling them off to reveal her sweaty panties underneath. I thought to myself perhaps she might give me a pair if I asked her, but I soon dismissed the idea as ludicrous as I knew there was a possibility that she would tell my girlfriend. There was no way to explain the fascination to her anyway, to explain why I wanted her sweaty panties. So I simply forgot about the idea, as I couldn’t see any way that I could get a pair of her panties without her knowing that I’d taken them. They would often come back to the flat after a workout, changed by this time into their normal clothes. My girlfriend would immediately get her dirty gym clothes and put them in the washing bin, whilst Tracey would put her gym clothes in her bag. It was agony, knowing that what I desired was so close, tucked away in her bag, and yet I couldn’t do anything about it. Then one day things changed. My girlfriend and Tracey had come back from their workout as usual. I came downstairs, and I could hear them both talking in the kitchen. I went into the front room, and there was Tracey’s bag on the floor by the sofa. bagMy heart started to race. I crept back to the door to check that they were still talking, and then I walked over to the bag. I was very scared, but at the same time I knew that if I wanted them then I had to act quickly. My hands were shaking as I unzipped her bag as quietly as I could. Her towel was on the top, and when I moved that aside there was a bundle of clothes underneath. They felt damp with perspiration. I got hold of her shorts, and there, tucked inside, I found her white panties. My heart was beating so fast by this point, I expected at any moment for my girlfriend and Tracey to come bursting in through the door. I grabbed the panties, stuck them in my pocket, and then put her shorts back where I’d found them, with her towel on top, and zipped up her bag. I stood for a minute, trying to reassure myself that the bag looked just as it had before I’d opened it, and that Tracey wouldn’t notice any difference. Then I ran upstairs, still very nervous. When I got to the bedroom I pulled out the panties and sank to my knees. I held the panties against my face. They were still damp from her workout. I breathed in deeply, and I was immediately throbbing. I examined the panties in more detail,Capture smelling both her scent in the gusset, and also her sweat, especially where the panties had been nestled between her round cheeks. I wanted to play with myself, but I knew that I didn’t have much time, that I had to put the panties back in her bag before she left. But it was too late. I could hear them both talking in the hall, and arranging to meet the next day. I went back to the bedroom and pulled down my trousers. The need for relief was overwhelming now, holding her damp panties in my hand. I started to play with myself, with the panties against my face. I breathed in the strong scent, and then, when I could hold back no longer, I relieved myself in her panties. I lay back on the floor, panting and out of breath, when the door slammed and my girlfriend shouted up to me, asking me what I was doing. I quickly pulled my trousers up, and shoved the panties out of sight. It was only afterwards that I started to worry about stealing the panties, and wondering how I was going to put them back. There was no way to put them back of course, I realised that, and certainly not after I’d made such a mess in them. So for the next few days I avoided Tracey as best I could. I asked my girlfriend what time she was calling round, and made sure I wasn’t around. Things seemed to be going to plan, but a few days later she called round early, and I didn’t know what to do. When she talked to me I avoided looking at her, desperately trying to hide my embarrassment. I was convinced that she knew. There was no proof that I’d taken them, but the way I was acting, how nervous I was, had to have made her suspicious. My girlfriend left us alone for a moment, and I decided to pretend to look for something, anything so I wouldn’t have to talk to her. ‘Have you lost something?’ she asked. ‘Yes and I can’t find it anywhere’ I said. Then suddenly she laughed. I turned round to look at her. She was bending over in her gym clothes, rummaging in her bag. I stood and watched her for a moment. I couldn’t help looking at her, bending over in front of me, and then she noticed me looking at her. ‘It’s funny’ she said ‘how easy it is to misplace things. I do it all the time’. I looked away, my face burning, just as my girlfriend appeared. ‘Right we’re off, we won’t be long. Have fun’ she said, kissing me on the cheek. ‘Oh he’ll have fun all right’ said Tracey, looking back at me. I felt my face redden even more, and quickly had to turn away. When they’d gone I got out the panties again. I looked at them, and I felt silly that a pair of panties could end up finishing our relationship. I put them to my face again, breathing in the strong scent, and suddenly all I could think about was Tracey, and her standing there, all sweaty and sexy, and I felt so lucky to have those panties. I was enthralled with them.

3 Responses to “A Panty Story, Gym Panties”
  1. David says:

    Nice story. Is there more?

  2. Rick says:

    Amazing story, which I totally see myself in. I have been a slave to the female scent all of my life and cannot count the number of times that I’ve expressed my devotion to a female by inhaling the scent on their worn panties until I was dizzy, while playing with myself. When in my mid-twenties I was dating a blonde girl; blue eyes, stunning figure, 5’10”, long, long legs and beautiful size ten feet – in short way out of my league. I would often stay with her for weekends in London and sometimes during the week while I did work here. ‘S’ (as we’ll call) her was well aware of her attractiveness and used to guys staring and that made her…well, a bit of a bitch. But if anything the masochist in me liked that even more. If she denied me sex one evening, acting like she couldn’t give a shit about my needs I got even harder and would lay awake fantasising about her, knowing that if I bided my time I could finally satisfy myself whether my goddess wanted me to or not. Our sex life was good, especially good for her as I adored going down on her for as many orgasms as she felt she wanted and would happily fall asleep not having the favour returned. ‘S’ would often rise early for work and I would wake up alongside her, hard and horny, knowing I had a good couple of hours before i needed to be anywhere. I’d wait in bed, aroused beyond belief for 10mins before I trusted that she wouldn’t be coming back for something she’s forgotten. I’d then languorously crawl to the foot of the bed where I was always faced with a clothes basket that was brimming with her dirty clothes. Satin panties with beautiful detail worn during a long, hot and stressful presentation at the office, thongs worn on nights out that had captured a drop or two of pee from every visit to the night club toilet, French
    Knickers that were soaked with her essence after an hour spinning or dance class, tights that had discolours toes from her beautiful work shoes, little socks she sometimes wore that smelled so perfectly of her perfect toes. I was in heaven. I would take a pair of ‘S’s panties and put the crotch over my nose, the satin soft on my face, but the soiled gusset slightly abrasive from being dry. The fact she wouldn’t allow me to orgasm only made the pleasure sweeter. A second pair would be put on to and over my head to double the scent, each pair holding the other in place. A third would go on top, further blindfolding me, suffocating my with her dominant scent, but taking me to heaven. A slave to my goddess’s feet, I would often slip a smelly sock in between the gussets of her girly panties and the aroma that came from this sweet combination, proving her perfectness and my worthlessness, was nearly too much to bear. I would often try to make myself lie there motionless while I inhaled her deep and hard, but 10 minutes was all I could bear. One pair would always be placed so that the crotch was over my mouth and I imagined ‘S’ ordering me to clean them, so they were spotless. I would lick and lick until the deposit of 24hrs of wear and sweat and thick, sweet mess was all I could taste; cleaning every bit off as I inhaled her toes and her ass and her pussy and all her wettest odours. Rock hard I would explode knowing mistress would think me even more worthless if she knew…but that’s what made it all the sweeter. So thanks ‘S’. For all the beautiful, soiled panties I used and abused for 2 years. For all the stillettos I buried my face or my cock in. For the tights I wrapped around my face and for the soaking gym knickers I could nearly drink the sweat from. Who’d have thought a woman could hold such power that we’d go so far for so little.

  3. Rick says:

    Damn, that meant to read size 7 feet!! Can’t edit, but you get the idea!! Mine are ten! Haha.

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