The Panty Whisperer: The Complete Series

by Sloane Howell

  I hope he doesn't hate me. What the hell is my problem? Why do I feel sorry for him? He's a fucking player. Not worth my time.

  "He's pretty shaken up. Gained some weight. Think he might be depressed." Tommy finally sits down.

  "Poor guy."

  Poor guy? Get your shit together, Quinn. You sound like a desperate groupie for some celebrity.

  "I mean, umm, yeah, that's too bad. Hope he feels better soon." I shrug and look away.

  Tommy stares at me, too fucking intelligent for his own good. He takes off the terrible disguise, leans toward me, and props his elbows on the table. "So, you like Joel. Interesting."

  "What? Why in the hell would you think that?" My face heats up, and it has to be turning pink.

  There's that sarcastic stare of his again. I look up and see Megan. Thank god.

  "There's Megan." I smile and wave her over. I promised Tommy I would set him up with someone. My matchmaking skills are superb, because Megan is perfect for him. I look over, and he's sweating bullets.

  "Pull yourself together. Since when are you the nervous type?"

  "I don't know. I think it's the disguise I'm wearing. You've got my ass all flustered over here. I can't think straight with the clandestine spy operation and that fine specimen of a woman walking this way." He taps his fingers furiously on the table.

  I look down at his hand, then back up to him. "Jesus. Well, do me a favor and don't call her a specimen when she gets here, okay?"

  He better not fuck this up. I want to look hot in my bridesmaid dress.

  "Hey, Megan." I smile.

  "Hey, how are you?" she asks.

  "Great. This is Tommy. He's my friend I told you about."

  Tommy stands up, but not before wiping his sweaty ass palms down his legs.

  "Hello, me lady, how art thou this morrow?" His voice is some god awful Olde English accent.

  I mouth "what in the fu—" from behind Megan where he can see. He shrugs as if he has no control over his actions. Megan is smiling. It's a good thing Tommy is cute. My face is in the palm of my hand at this point. It's a total disaster.

  Please play that shit off as a joke.

  "Oh, why hello, good Sir." Megan reciprocates with some kind of awkward curtsy.

  She's wearing a black mid-length dress, and her wavy brunette hair is flowing over her shoulders. She has long legs that go for days down to a pair of black pumps. She's gorgeous, but also insanely smart. I don't understand what she's talking about when we talk about work. She's the director of IT at the marketing firm and graduated from Stanford with some degree in smart people computer stuff.

  At least her reaction seems to have Tommy at ease. Maybe he will act normal now.

  She sits down next to me. They're both silent, and I need to help them break the ice, apparently.

  "Tommy works for a firm that specializes in accounting software. Right, Tommy?" I shoot a stare in his direction, trying to get him to start a conversation.

  "Yeah, I don't really work much. I try to shirk my duties whenever possible."

  Goddamn it. Women don't like lazy men, especially those who wear it as a badge of honor. This is going horribly wrong. Megan is ambitious and driven. Tommy tries to skate by with minimal effort. Maybe it was a bad idea.

  "Oh yeah? How do you get away with it?" Megan leans in, apparently interested in his ways of laziness.

  She must find him attractive. It's the only explanation.

  "It's not hard. People are easy to read. I recognize patterns. Our software is a joke. Easy to learn. I show people modules that will be most useful and they love the hell out of me. I just steer them away from those that have the most bugs."

  "Interesting. So you're not a programmer?"

  "Hell no. I'd blow my brains out writing accounting software."

  Megan laughs. What the hell is going on here? I'm cringing with every word. Surely he realizes this woman's life is programming computers and he says he'd blow his brains out?

  "So, how do you know it has bugs?" Megan twirls a lock of her hair around her finger.

  I convince myself I'm in the Twilight Zone.

  "I spotted them when they showed me the source code."

  She laughs but has a curious look about her. "You spotted the bugs? Looking at it once? Bullshit."

  "Umm. Okay? I didn't spot all the bugs looking at it once." He shrugs.

  There's the confident sarcasm I've been waiting for.

  Megan appears intrigued. "Okay, seriously? You really spotted them?"

  "I can spot an infinite loop a mile away. Especially in Python. Most of those pricks are amateur script kiddies that think they're hackers."

  "Is it all written in Python?"

  "No. There's one decent coder there who actually listens to me. I told him which parts to write in C. I edited some of it for him. It made the program lightning fast. I really should've leveraged that deal better. I didn't get a damn thing come to think of it."

  Megan keeps giggling like a schoolgirl.

  I look over at Tommy. I give him a thumbs up when Megan isn't watching.

  "Also, if I free up time at work, I can flame all the wannabe George Lucas fanboys on YouTube."

  Megan leans toward Tommy. "I know right. This fucker on Facebook tried to make an argument for Jar Jar's existence the other day."

  I seriously do not know what in the fuck is going on at this point. But they are both smiling, so I feel like it's going well. I'm also shocked that she said "fuck." I've never heard her talk like that.

  "Jar Jar Binks is a fucking abomination who should be tortured Law-Abiding-Citizen-style. Abrams had better bury that fucker or I will troll the balls off his Twitter feed." Tommy beams with pride at his declaration.

  "We need to have a Star Wars night and compare notes on George Lucas edits that warrant hatred and contempt." Megan starts twirling her hair again.

  "That sounds like the greatest date of all time." Tommy winks at me like it's a suave maneuver.

  I roll my eyes, but it appears to be working as Megan swoons in her chair.

  "It's a date then. Here's my card. It has my number. Hope it's sooner than later." She smiles at Tommy and her face is all kinds of pink.

  "You have to get back to work?" I ask.

  "Yeah. Big project going on." She looks at Tommy and smiles. "See you soon."

  She heads toward the exit, and when she walks out the door Tommy leaps to his feet and dances around, holding her card in front of my face.

  "Uhh, Quinn. See that shit? Mackdaddy skills right there, son!"

  What the hell? I don't get any credit. I start to interrupt him and he holds a finger to his lips, shushing me like a child.

  "Don't interrupt mah mojo." He switches to some kind of android voice and starts doing the robot. "Must. Do. The. C3PO."

  People stare at us, and I can't quit laughing. Between his antics and the smell of roasted coffee beans in my nose, it's like heaven.

  He keeps gyrating in stiff, jerky movements. "Sir, the possibility of successfully navigating that pussy is approximately 3,720 to 1!"

  "Oh my god. Sit down." I can barely catch my breath.

  He's still holding her card, staring at it as he looks around at the gawkers. "Sorry folks. Got some digits. You know how it is."

  "Well, I'm glad I could help." I shake my head.

  "She's perfect. I owe you one."

  "Yeah you do."

  "I thought I lost her with ye Olde English opener, but she ate it up." He smiles.

  "Well, I told you I'd find you a good girl. Didn't I? Now don't fuck it up. I have to work with her."

  He's staring back, and I can see the gears turning in his head. "Now, where were we with this Joel conversation? Maybe all four of us could hang out and watch Star Wars?"

  "I don't think that's going to happen. Not a good idea."

  "What the fuck ever. You two are perfect for each other. You need to quit playing all the bullshit games. Stubborn bunch of assholes."

&nb
sp; "Hey. I just hooked you up with a ten. Don't call me an asshole. Besides, it's his fault. I'm not going to betray my best friend for a guy. He shouldn't have fucked her over and maybe there'd be a possibility. Not to mention the fact that he bangs everything that walks."

  "Oh horse shit. If he hadn't pounded out your friend you would've never met him in the first place. And he would stop his playboy antics if he met the right girl, which is you. If he didn't like you he wouldn't be sitting in a pile of filth in his apartment, calling in to work and blowing through his vacation days like Tony Montana through a mountain of coke."

  "He's doing what?" I perk up in my seat.

  "Shit. Never mind. He's fine. You're right."

  My stomach churns. I tell myself it's the coffee, but I know better. "Is he going to be okay?"

  "I shouldn't have told you that. Please don't say anything. I finally got him out of the house and took him to his mom's. If he knew I told you, it'd send him right back off the deep end."

  "I won't say anything. I promise."

  Who the hell would I tell anyway? Tommy heads out the front door and lets in a warm breeze that wafts over my face.

  I have to get back to the office.

  When I walk outside, a garbage truck pulls up to collect the trash on the street. The rancid smell coupled with the guilt makes me nauseous, and I might vomit. It's going to be a long fucking day.

  JOEL

  I'M AT WORK and getting back into the swing of things. Quinn still finds her way into every corner of my mind. I've convinced myself that I need to get laid and it will all go away.

  It seems like a bad idea but what's the down side? Getting laid? Sounds pretty fool proof to me. I need to think with my brain anyway. My feelings obviously can't be trusted.

  There's a woman in finance I've pretty much laid the groundwork for already. Her name is Brittany Mayhew. She's attractive, but not supermodel hot. It should make things pretty easy. I decide to pay her a visit.

  I walk around the corner, and she's sitting at her desk. Her brunette hair is in long curls today, and she's wearing a dark-green top that conceals a pair of medium-sized natural breasts. Her ass isn't proportional, but I don't mind. All I can think about right now is slamming into it from behind while she moans my name.

  She's 32 and divorced, with a kid. I think she needs some excitement in her life. She deserves to be pleasured, and I need to clear my mind. It's a win-win.

  She doesn't have one defining feature that stands out, but it all works well together. She's definitely self-conscious about her appearance. Most women are at her age, hell, any age for that matter. I'll never understand it. She's fucking hot and needs to be reminded how beautiful she is.

  A sense of impending doom rolls through my stomach, but I ignore it. She looks up at me with a pair of dark-brown eyes and a smile creeps over her face. Her desk is littered with stacks of papers and miscellaneous files, not unusual for most accountants. We've been office flirts for years. Usually I flirt when I need a favor, but sometimes I do it for fun.

  "Well, it's about time you stopped by to see me. Where have you been, stranger?"

  "Oh you know—out of the office for a bit, working off-site, wishing I was here so I could stop by and see you."

  She stands up and has on a mid-length khaki skirt. She looks amazing, way hotter than usual. My cock bulges in my pants, maybe because I haven't fucked anyone in a while. The things I'm going to do to this one, though. She has no idea.

  This should be fun. She's practically begging me to take her from behind, fuck her the way she deserves to be fucked. Hard.

  After all these years of flirting, it will finally culminate in a hot and steamy office closet. I can't wait to put her up against the wall.

  She lowers her black-framed glasses and eye fucks me. "So, I'm the reason you are always swinging by here?"

  "Of course, why else would I come by?" I lean against her desk.

  It certainly isn't to see her boss. He's an asshole. Works his people to death and he's always creeping on her.

  "I don't know." She twirls her hair, basically begging for my dick in her throat.

  "Are you busy? Want to go grab some coffee?" I smile.

  I can almost feel the heat rushing into her face as she blushes.

  "Sure. Why not?"

  "Follow me."

  I walk in the opposite direction of the break room and I imagine how wet it makes her. Everyone in the office has heard the rumors. She needs to find out for herself though. She needs to experience me.

  I stop in front of a maintenance closet, the same one I took Hannah in a few weeks ago. I've never actually fucked in here, and I do love to try new things. I look back and Brittany looks incredibly sexy, excitement radiating from her face. She's already walking with a look of confidence, rocking her hips side-to-side with her chest out. I throw her a wink and walk into the closet.

  When she walks through the door we attack each other. Four years of flirting with no pay off will do that to a person. My hands go straight to her ass, yanking her skirt up to reveal a pair of lace panties hugging her cheeks together. I slap one of them forcefully and grip with my fingertips while biting her bottom lip. I grip her hair and yank her head back, exposing her neck. I dive into her throat and suck down to her collarbone.

  She's panting, pushing her tits into my chest as I work back up to her ear.

  Her hand strokes my cock over my slacks.

  "You ready for a taste?" My mouth is next to her ear, hand still fisting her hair.

  She doesn't respond and I smack her ass again. She coos and strokes my shaft faster.

  "Take it out." My voice is a throaty growl.

  She unbuckles my belt and unbuttons my pants slowly. I release her hair and let her do what she needs to. She unzips my pants and yanks them and my briefs down simultaneously. My cock springs free, and she looks up at me.

  Her eyes grow wide as she runs her hand up and down me, staring into my eyes through her glasses. "Oh my."

  "Get on your fucking knees."

  Brittany drops to her knees, still stroking my cock. She seems to enjoy being told what to do, so I take advantage of the situation. She stares up with those big brown eyes, and her warm tongue licks up the length of my shaft.

  I groan as she explores every inch of my dick with her tongue.

  "I've wanted this for so long." Her voice is a whisper.

  I reach down and grab a handful of her hair. "Put it in your mouth."

  She licks the length of me again but this time swirls her tongue around the head and takes half of it into her mouth.

  I slap her playfully on the cheek and she moans on my cock. "All of it."

  She takes me into the back of her mouth, doing as she's told while I stare at the big round ass sticking out the back of her skirt. It's hot as fuck and I'm going to have to be careful not to blow my load too early. I can't miss out on getting inside that pussy. I've put in too much work for it.

  She sucks me harder, and my head tilts back toward the wall. She pauses to tease the tip.

  "Spit on it." I look down at her eyes.

  They're staring back at me and I squeeze her hair in my fist.

  A moan rolls off her lips. She smiles and spits all over it. It drips down her chin and along my shaft. She strokes me in smooth, rhythmic motions. It feels fucking amazing, but we don't have a lot of time. I'm going to have to speed this up.

  "You want to get fucked?"

  She nods and takes me in her mouth again. I turn her head so that my cock is lodged in the side of her mouth, then lightly slap her cheek with my hand.

  "You want to get fucked like a dirty little whore? Is that what you want?"

  "Uh huh." A mouthful of my dick has her words jumbled and she nods on my cock.

  I grab under her arms and yank her up to her feet. A light squeal escapes her lips.

  I flip her around and shove her up against the wall. Swiping her hair back over her ear, I lean in next to it, all the while my h
and is up her skirt, rubbing her pussy over the top of her panties. I slowly increase the tempo.

  I grip the back of her neck, and press the side of her face against the wall, my mouth in her ear.

  She gasps. "Fuck."

  "You want me to shove my cock in here?" I yank her panties to the side and palm her wet cunt, then run my fingers back and forth through her slick folds.

  "Mmhmm."

  "Not yet." I shove off of her neck, releasing her from my grip.

  I drop to my knees and pull her panties to her ankles. She kicks them to the side.

  I spread her ass apart and bury my nose in the middle of it as I lick from her clit to her asshole. She squirms and I slap her ass, hard. Her legs stiffen at the impact and she stills.

  I tease her swollen, pink entrance with the tip of my tongue and a shudder rips through her thighs and up her back. She moans and reaches back with both hands to spread that big beautiful ass of hers for me, digging her nails in.

  I circle my fingers on her clit while probing my tongue in and out of her, pausing occasionally to run it around the tight ridges of her asshole. She claws her ass harder, spreading it wider.

  "I'm gonna come." She can barely breathe.

  Yeah you are.

  I tease her clit faster with my fingers, still going to town on her puckered asshole with my tongue. She's about to lose control and is trying to remain still. It's time.

  I slip two fingers into her hot pussy and start ramming them to the hilt. She loses control, bucking her ass in time to my fingers pumping in and out of her cunt, her ass shaking, her fingers still gripping it tight.

  She lets go of her ass and splays her fingers across the wall as her head flies back and her body tenses up, tightening her walls around my fingers as she grinds her ass up and down them.

  I take my fingers deeper and shake my head, my tongue lashing her asshole from every angle as I growl.

  She belts out a loud moan and convulses on my face, my head buried in her ass and my fingers in her cunt.

  Finally, her muscles relax. I can't waste this opportunity.

  I stand up and grab one of her wrists in each hand, then yank them back to her ass. "Spread your fucking ass."