The Panty Thief

Unseen, unheard, uncaught, he moves through the night with one thing on his. Mind

He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t stop.

The attraction to girls panties was absolutely irresistible for him.

His eyes were drawn to washing lines when he saw tiny little panties waving to him in the wind.

When a girls skirt blew up, he was elated when he glimpsed their undies.

His reactions were lightning quick. If knickers were to be seen, he saw them.

As he got older he would steal panties from the drawers in bedrooms when he visited friends and family. He would excuse himself to go to the rest room but would detour on the hunt for the prizes he sought.

He almost got caught a few times in bedrooms he had no business being in. He was clever and believable. He was always to talk his way out of the situation without raising suspicion about what he was really up to.

As he grew into his teens, he started to scope out houses where pretty girls lived. He would watch to see which days were washing day. He would determine if washing was routinely left on the washing line overnight and, when he was sure the timing was right, he would move in silently. Opening gates or climbing over walls, he would glide up to the line and choose his prizes. He never went for anything large, always the small items. Always knickers, never bras. He never took all panties from the line. The was choosy but also didn’t want to leave huge gaps in the washing. He would adjust the spacing to hide the missing items in the hope that the homeowner would not notice anything was missing. He never went to the same house twice.

His care and attention to detail saw him amass a large collection without any suspicion being raised. He never got caught.

When he got the panties home, he would go up to his room and inspect his prizes. He would check out the colour, pattern and size. He really liked the ones that had ages on the labels. At first he was puzzled by the ones that just had a number on the label, but deduced that it was not necessarily the age of the wearer unless it specified years.

He loved coloured ones, but also liked white ones if they had colours bands on legs and waist or had cartoon characters on them.

He was fascinated by the crotch are. He especially liked when the stitching had split which held the gusset closed so he could get his dick right inside the gusset.

He would rub his swollen cock against that gusset and he swore he could feel the presence of the previous wearer. He loved the feel of the fabrics against his dick and balls. As he quickly reached orgasm, he would remove the pants from his cock so as not to get them all yellow and crispy with his cum when it dried.

When he had girlfriends, he would steal their panties and those of their sisters or even Mum’s if they were attractive. They never suspected and he was never caught.

When he did get enough cum on a pair, he would dispose of them by putting them in public waste bins away from his immediate neighbourhood. He would do so at night. He could not get away with that now as his DNA would now be profiled and he would risk discovery if ever he crossed paths with the law. He eventually changed to burning pants that he no longer wanted.

He knew what he was doing and knew it was wrong, but he could not stop and knew he would never be caught.

Before he died, he had a massive bonfire destroying all evidence.

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