With a grunt, Dude rolled onto his stomach, tucking his arm beneath the sad excuse of a pillow beneath him. He had no idea how long he had slept, and there was no telling with the windows boarded up. All he knew was that it wasn’t nearly long enough. Through the fog of sleep, he rummaged around his mental notes to try to remember if there was anything he needed to do today. What was today? Fuck it. Couldn’t be that important. His head felt like it was filled with lead as he lifted it to check the time, regardless of his plans to try to doze back off. Bright red blurred numbers seared his retinas. Where were his shades? His face slumped back onto the pillow while his free arm felt around him in search of the sunglasses. Soft thumps echoed like gunfire as he patted the area surrounding him.

His signature shades must’ve grown legs and walked away… That or he lost them over the course of his bender. Just as he was giving up that fruitless hunt, his fingers brushed a fabric that differed from the sheets. Without thinking, he grabbed and brought whatever it was to his face, as if being right in front of him would make a difference in the almost pitch black room. It was then he caught a whiff of something that wasn’t smoke or ball sweat. It was... pleasant. Earthy. In the back of his mind, he wanted more, though he couldn’t quite place it in his hungover state. He brought it closer and gave it a good sniff. Only when his dick twitched in response did it finally hit him what the suspiciously lacy article in his hand was…

Panties. He was sniffing panties. That damn mistress must have lost her drawers last time he had her over.

Dude dropped them like it burnt him. Yeah, it was time to go back to sleep. He buried his face into the pillow and brought his free hand under it to join the other. His eyes screwed shut and he tried to relax, but of fucking course, his body had other plans. His boner pressed into the worn mattress, causing a pleasant pressure that couldn’t be ignored. With a huff, he rolled over onto his back, grumbling at the loss of stimulation before shoving his hand down his boxers. He was too lazy to jerk, so he just held his cock while trying to doze back off…

Nope.  That wasn’t good enough either. Christ, his balls felt tight. He stared straight up towards the ceiling that he couldn’t see. Looked like he had no choice here. He started masturbating with reluctant, unenthusiastic strokes. Even forcing his hand to move was exhausting. Ready to get this over with as quickly as possible, he tried conjuring up the sexiest things he could think about. Those Postal Babes that Vince invited to the parties… The nurses at the clinic in their tight little revealing dresses… The aggravating woman that got him in this mess in the first place…

A low growl escaped him when none of this got him off fast enough. In the back of his mind, he knew what would get this over with the soonest, but he didn’t want to succumb to that. After a weak bout of mental grappling, he felt around the bed again until he found those damn panties. He brought them to his nose and snorted them harder than a line of coke. A satisfied groan rose out of his throat and his strokes grew more deliberate. He felt like a fucking kid. Whacking off to a girl’s underwear like it’s some taboo forbidden fruit was some juvenile shit. Yet it was getting the job done.  Can't argue with results.

It was a good thing she wasn’t around to witness this. He’d never fucking hear the end of it. She’d taunt him for the rest of time, or do something like smother him by holding them to his face until he got lightheaded. Or use them as a gag to keep his smart ass shut while she fucked his ass with a strap-on.

Fuck, that mental image made his hips buck. He needed another deep inhale of them to keep going like he was taking a hit.

What else would that psycho bitch do with them?

He could see her putting him on all fours and making him wear a pair as a mask. She’d probably sit on his back and spank his ass with a crop while laughing and calling him a filthy pervert.

Dude swallowed thickly, sweat beading his brow as his dick throbbed in his grip. He swiped the fabric across his forehead before breathing them in again. And again. And one more time for good measure. He was so goddamn close now… Almost there…

What else?  What else could that wicked woman subject him to if she knew?

He pictured her wrapping them around her hand and using them while she gave him a hand job. Feeling the cool silken fabric and tickle of lace against his boiling hot erection. It’d be no time before he burst all over them if she did that… But knowing her, she wouldn’t be done tormenting him. No, she’d stand over him while she slipped each foot into the holes and dragged them up her shapely legs, not giving a fuck that they were damp and sticky now. Once she was certain he got a good look at them adorning her body, she’d settle her fat ass down on his face and make him smell his new addiction right from the source before making him eat her cunt through the soiled fabric—

Yep, that was it. That depraved fantasy pushed him over the edge. It left him panting like Champ in the Arizona heat and filling his boxers with more cream than a Twinkie. He tugged them off before his jizz could start to cool, used them to wipe his now thankfully limp dick off, and balled them up along with hers to toss onto the floor with the rest of the laundry that he’d get to at some point. He rolled onto his stomach again, tucked that arm beneath the raggedy pillow, and dozed back off with a satisfied smile.