The Gift of Panties

It's evening when I hear a soft knock on my apartment door. When I open it, Joanna stands there—my childhood friend and current university classmate. Her blonde hair is cut short and colored with a streak of pink. She is so cute. I love her...as a friend of course. She's fidgeting nervously, her cheeks already flushed pink.

"H-hey," she says, her voice trembling slightly. "Can I come in for a second?"

She steps inside but doesn't sit down. Her fingers worry at the hem of her pleated skirt, betraying her anxiety.

"So... I was hanging out with the girls earlier," Joanna continues, her eyes fixed on the floor. "And we were talking about guys our age... and how... um... horny they can get."

She takes a deep breath. Before I can respond, she reaches under her skirt in one fluid motion. She slides her light pink panties down her smooth thighs, steps out of them, and holds them out to me with both hands. The fabric is still warm from her skin.

"Here," she says, her face turning bright red. "I heard boys really like this kind of thing. So you can use these if you need to... um... relieve yourself."

She can't even look me in the eyes. The embarrassment radiates off her in waves.

"O-okay then! Bye bye!"

She literally turns around and sprints toward the door, leaving me standing there holding her warm panties.

"Joanna, wait!" I call out.

She freezes mid-stride, her shoulders tensing. Slowly, she turns back around, her face still beet red. She clasps her hands together nervously in front of her, trying to act casual despite the compromising situation.

"Y-yes?" she asks, her voice small. "Did you... did you want to say something?"

She bites her lower lip, glancing between me and the floor. The air feels thick with tension and unspoken emotion. Her magenta hair—when did she dye it?—falls in loose waves around her flushed face as she waits for my response, equal parts mortified and secretly hopeful.

I hold up the panties on one finger. The satin whispers against my skin, and I can't help but grin at how flustered she is.

"Did you lose a bet or something?" I ask. "It's not that I'm not grateful... but holy smokes, Jo, this is a little outside the box, even for you."

Joanna's eyes widen as I hold up her discarded underwear. She shakes her head vigorously, causing her magenta ponytail to sway.

"N-no, no bet!" she insists, starting to pace anxiously. "I just... I wanted to help you out, y'know? Since we're such good friends and all!"

She gesticulates with her hands as she explains in her usual bubbly yet flustered manner.

"The girls said guys your age get super pent up sometimes and need... relief," Joanna continues. "And I thought, hey, I've got a great guy pal who deserves some help! So here I am!"

Realizing what she's just admitted, she claps both hands over her burning face.

"Oh gosh, I can't believe I'm saying this out loud!" she groans from behind her hands. "Forget I mentioned anything, okay? Let's pretend this never happened!"

I can't help but grin. She's so cute when she's flustered.

"Nope," I say, twirling the panties on my finger. "I'll play your game, Jo, but I'm not playing by myself... or with myself. I'd be down if you wanted to watch. Or even, you know, lend a hand."

Joanna peeks through her fingers, her eyes going wide as saucers at my suggestive offer. A strangled squeak escapes her throat before she drops her hands, looking torn between shock, embarrassment, and a glimmer of excitement.

"W-watch? Or lend a hand?!" she exclaims, her scandalized tone not quite masking her interest. "Ero, you perv!"

Despite her words, she makes no move to leave. Instead, she shifts from foot to foot, chewing on her bottom lip as she considers the idea. Her gaze darts down to the bulge growing in my pants before snapping back up to my face.

"I mean... I guess I could stay and make sure you're okay," Joanna says, nodding firmly as if trying to convince herself more than me. "Purely platonic reasons, of course! Nothing weird! Just two good pals helping each other out, right?"

"Perv?" I laugh, holding up the panties. "Says the girl who literally just took her panties off and handed them to me and tried to make a clean getaway. You are so adorable, Jo, you know that?"

I twirl the panties on my finger, watching her reaction.

"Just what am I supposed to do with these anyway?" I ask, my tone playful. "Wear them? I admit, this is a first for me."

Joanna's blush deepens to an almost painful shade of red at my teasing words. She stamps her foot petulantly, pouting up at me with a mix of indignation and barely suppressed giggles.

"Hey, I'm not the perv here!" she protests. "I was just trying to be a good friend! Don't go twisting this around on me!"

She watches, transfixed, as I twirl her panties—equal parts mortified and intrigued by the intimate gesture. At my question, she throws her hands up in exasperation.

"Ugh, I don't know exactly!" Joanna says. "The girls didn't give me a step-by-step guide, y'know? I just figured... you could sniff them or something. Isn't that what guys do in those dirty magazines?"

She pauses, her face flushing even deeper.

"Not that I read those!" she quickly adds.

I hold the panties up to my face and take a deep, long sniff, savoring the delicate scent of her arousal mixed with her familiar perfume. It's intoxicating.

"Okay, that was fun," I say, lowering them. "Now what?"

To be continued in chapter 2...