Sandy's Journey - Sex Stories

Sandy's Journey

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is completely fictional. All characters are 18 or older.

Sandy's Journey

CHAPTER 1: Oops

The whole thing started from an accident. Well, kind of, anyway.

My name's Sandy James. For some reason known only to potheads, my parents named me Xander. When I was two, I couldn't pronounce it, and told everyone my name was Sandy. My parents either decided to let me choose or forgot what my birth certificate said, and I've been Sandy ever since.

Anyway, here's what happened. I was getting ready for work one day and realized I didn't have any clean underwear. I had a big meeting with the brass scheduled, and going commando in my tailored suit didn't seem to be a great idea. The boys needed to be corraled. What to do?

Then I remembered there was a clean pair of woman's panties in my sock drawer. A cute little thing named Tanya had forgotten to put them on after a late night of drunken sex. She'd called an Uber to get home, and I'd found them in the sheets the next morning. I'd washed them and put them away in case I ever got another shot at her tight little hole.

They were red lace thongs, but I figured they had enough fabric to keep my junk confined. I quickly pulled them out of the drawer and skinnied them up my legs. My balls just barely fit into the gusset, my soft cock stayed put. They weren't the most comfortable thing I'd ever worn, but they would do.

I finished getting dressed and wolfed down a bagel and a cup of coffee for ...

... breakfast, then headed out for the walk to the metro. It was only a block, and the weather was nice, so I swung along easily. Underneath my clothes, things were happening. I'd never felt a satiny fabric like this thong against my balls, and I found it much nicer than the cotton I was used to.

Then there was the other feeling. The thong strap began working its way up between my cheeks. I couldn't very well adjust anything out there in the street, so I went with the feeling. Soon it was rubbing against my asshole with every stride I took. I'd never worn anything like this, and never felt anything like that -- well, except for that crazy chick in Sheboygan with the long fingers, but that was different. This was soft, barely touching, and it felt good. It felt like a silken fingertip just rubbing softly rubbing against that sensitive opening. It felt naughty, like the first time you rub your cock and feel it start to tingle.

I made the train station in no time, ran my pass through the machine and headed for the platform. I had a few minutes before the next train, and I found myself thinking about asses and panties. I glanced around at the other men on the platform, wondering if any of them were dressed like me underneath. I wondered what they would think if they could see my lacy red thong. I checked out women's asses as well, with their much more visible lines. I could see some that appeared to be wearing thongs, and wondered if they liked the feel of the string rubbing their ...