by Stella

They were pink. Very definitely pink.

Nicki Welsh crouched on the floor of the hotel bedroom and could clearly see the discarded panties under the bed. Pink satin, with a little line of matching lace at the edges. Not particularly expensive, probably, but worn – and that was what interested her.

She reached out and closed her hands on the little bundle. Holding her breath with suppressed excitement, she brought them out from under the bed. She settled back on her heels and held the soft, pink panties in her hands, contemplating them for just a moment before carefully folding them so the stained and marked crotch was outwards. She didn't bother to glance round to see if she was alone: her colleague Olga would be busy cleaning another room down the corridor, absorbed in her own world as she cleaned.

Nicki wanted to be absorbed in these panties. Slowly, almost reverentially, she lifted the crotch of the knickers to her nose, drinking in the deliciously sharp aroma of another woman's sex. The heady, musky aroma of cunt filled her senses with an erotic delight so powerful, so stimulating that she would soon have to finger herself as she drank it in.

Not immediately, of course: she wanted to sniff these panties for as long as she dare before submitting to the overwhelming urge to bring herself off. How long had she got? A minute? Two minutes? Please, let it be longer, she thought as she closed her eyes and drank in the most unique, most erotic smell in the world. Another woman's cunt – her juices and secretions and stains all on a small patch of pink fabric. The absolute and intimate essence of a woman, sending flames of lust through every part of Nicki's being.

"Oh God," Nicki whispered as she pressed the crotch to her nose. If only she could drink more of it for longer, then her own orgasm would be so much more powerful. She had dreamed of finding pink knickers too: most women guests left black or white panties behind among all the other things they left – unbelievable things like a prosthetic foot and a crate of whiskey and an ivory white wedding dress and any number of handbags and umbrellas. But the greatest pleasure for Nicki was finding discarded and forgotten knickers, perhaps even those abandoned deliberately by someone who'd used the hotel for some sexual liaison and didn't want to take home the soiled panties. But Nicki would take them home: stuffed in her overall pocket she would cherish them for hours – at least until the smell faded.

Black, white, cream, yellow, red knickers, patterned and lacy and plain and complete with little bows... but pink was so rare, so precious that she almost came then and there without touching herself.

"What on earth are you doing?" said a woman's voice from behind. Not the voice of Olga, the other chambermaid – her English hadn't got beyond phrases like "Fuck, dirty room," and "Keep money." Nor was it the voice of one of the hotel's senior staff, thankfully.

It was the voice of a guest. A female guest, looming over Nicki.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Nicki, her face burning red as she jumped to her feet, trying at the same time to smooth the crumpled sheets as if that was the sole reason why she was kneeling by the bed. She dropped the panties and hoping the woman wouldn't notice. "I'm just the chambermaid and I'm cleaning the room."

"No, you aren't just doing that at all," sighed the woman. She was tall and blonde, around age thirty, and she was looking down at Nicki with piercing blue eyes. It was as if she knew. She went to the half-open bedroom door and closed it, then came back. Nicki was on her feet, her hands clasped in anxiety, her dark brown eyes cast down in shame at being discovered. She was twenty years old but felt like a naughty schoolgirl.

"I came back for something," said the woman as she regarded Nicki carefully. "Just a pair of knickers I'd left behind, but I see you found them."

"Oh, these," Without looking at the blonde, Nicki squatted, scooped up the pink knickers by her feet and offered them.

"Yes, those are the panties," said the woman. It sounded as if she was smiling so Nicki risked a glance at her. She was indeed smiling, but she wasn't reaching out for the underwear. "Tell you what, my dear, if you like them so much please carry on sniffing them. I can wait a few minutes: my husband is used to waiting."

"I wasn't sniffing them," Nicki protested, but weakly with her face bright red.

"Look, I understand," said the woman. "Smelling another woman's sex is great. I'd do it if I found them too." She sat on the edge of a chair next to the bed, still not reaching for the panties on offer. She had on a short skirt and casually crossed her legs before settling back. She really wasn't in any hurry.

Nicki hesitantly withdrew her hand, still holding the pink knickers. "I... I don't do this often but–" she began to say, aware it didn't sound convincing.

"I told you I understand. When I was your age, I worked as a chambermaid for a few months. Oh, I know all sorts of nasty things get left behind by careless guests, which oddly is why I came back. The panties aren't valuable or sentimental. I merely came in them last night while fingering myself when my husband was in the bath, then I tossed them aside. But as we were paying our bill I thought it unfair to leave them for someone else to clean up." She smiled more deeply. "But then, they seem to have found a very pretty nose."

Nicki stared in silence, embarrassed by the fact she had been caught sniffing the panties but blushing even more because the woman had said she was pretty. Well, had a pretty nose anyway.

"So, please carry on, my dear... or would you prefer something a little more fresh?" The seated guest uncrossed her legs and allowed her legs to slide open. From where she stood Nicki could see up her skirt, see the pink satin knickers she was wearing. Without any show of embarrassment herself, the blonde reached her right hand between her own legs and rubbed at her crotch, moving her legs even wider apart, the light gleaming on her hold-up stockings.

"Oh!" Nicki felt her sex burst into flames as she watched this glamorous stranger rubbing at her own slit through the pink knickers. Instinctively she did the same to herself with her left hand, pressing at the folds of her skirt and working it inward while her right hand raised the older woman's discarded panties back to her nose. She had never felt so alive, so aroused.

"My name is Andrea," said the blonde, her cheeks looking flushed as she rubbed herself harder, seeking her hard clit. "What is your name?"

"Nicki," came the reply, between deeply inhaling the aroma from the worn panties.

"Ah, Nicki, you are so very pretty and you look wonderful smelling those panties of mine. I want to cum hard while I watch you, and then you can smell the pair I'm wearing." She gasped a little and then continued: "Would you like that, my dear? Would you like to drink in the smell of my cum when it's fresh and delicious?"

Nicki nodded, concentrating on what she could see, what she was doing to herself and most of all what she could smell. She sat down on the bed and opened her own legs so she could get her hand up her uniform skirt, ashamed that her own knickers were only white cotton but more than glad of the chance to finger herself properly.

"Mmmm, beautiful," sighed Andrea as she watched the young brunette sniffing panties and fingering her crotch and looking at her with those gorgeous dark eyes. "Absolutely beautiful. Just as you are, Nicki. So sexy!"

The two women rubbed and caressed and stroked and pinched themselves and came more or less at the same moment – a deep, heartfelt gasp from each of thrm as their inflamed cunts exploded into bright, flaring orgasms. Only then did Nicki reluctantly take the pink knickers from her face.

She recovered her breath. "Andrea... I suppose you'd like these back," she said, offering them to the blonde, who sat slumped in the chair with her hand no longer on her sex but with her legs still wide apart. Sitting like that Nicki could see that the crotch of Andrea's pink panties were stained with wetness.

"No, I want you to keep them," sighed the older woman, quite happily. "I want you to keep those – and the ones I've got on right now – in exchange for the ones you're wearing."

"Mine? But they're orinary. Just plain white–"

"Yes, but you're wearing them. You came in them so beautifully, Nicki." The blonde's eyes sparkled. "I want to take those panties home and – when my useless husband is out playing golf or wanking himself over his pathetic secret store of dirty magazines – I can sniff them and cum again as I think of you."

Nicki nodded. That was what she would do too, in this woman's place. She was flattered and excited again. "If I give them to you..." Then she hesitated, not sure how to say this: "Can I... Will I see you again, Andrea?"

"I visit this hotel quite often, with my husband," laughed Andrea. "I see no reason why you and I shouldn't exchange our stained panties again. Do you see any reason?"

Nicki grinned. She could see no reason at all.

"Now, my dear, I am sorry to say I must go." Andrea stood and lifted her skirt to pull down her pink satin knickers, the crotch glistening with her cum juices. "These are for you," she said as Nicki stood to remove her own rather plain white cotton underwear.

They swapped panties with each other, noting the gussets were still warm and very wet. Andrea leaned in and gave Nicki the briefest kiss. Short, but laden with a richer and deeper promise. "Perhaps my dear, when I come back here we can make each other cum in our knickers before we sniff them together," she whispered.

Nicki's grin widened. She could see no reason at all why they shouldn't do that.


Copyright 2007 Stella

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