The last time I saw my ex-girlfriend Sharon was when she came to pick up her things after we split. She arrived late one evening (she still had the key) and proceeded to empty the contents of her knicker drawer into an overnight bag. I was all ready for bed with a comforting pair of her panties on under my pajamas. I was propped up on our pillows when she burst in, slightly the worse for wear but still looking stunning in tight jeans and crop top, showing her newly fit midriff.

As she stuffed her knickers into the bag with no explanation, I couldn’t help blurting out.

“So, have you been fucking someone else, then?”

“Please don’t ask me that”

Sharon evaded my burning question, turning away from where I was propped up on the bed.

“I have to know”.

“Ok then, yes I have”.

“Was it good? Did you enjoy it? Was he better than me?” A stream of charged questions spilled out that I was dying to know the answer to, even though each one was killing me.

I knew by the smile on her face that it was.

“None of your business, we’re over. But if you must know, yes it was”.

“Better than me”?

“There’s no comparison”.

“Does he fuck you in your panties like we do”?

“Did. Yeah, there was no time to take them off”.

“Which ones?”

“I can’t remember…”

“Yes, you can. Was it the new red satin ones I bought you for Valentines but we never used”?

She knew it was those, of course. 

“Maybe, so what”?

“I want them back”.

“A present is just that. Anyway, I don’t think you’d want them now”.

“Why’s that”?

“Well, they’re probably covered in his spunk; there was a lot of it. Apparently, he’d been dying to fuck me for ages, so as soon as he heard that we’d split up, he took his chance. Of course, I was damn horny missing the sex, so I just went for it, and, you know, the body just responds.”

“Then what”? I was shaking now.

“He made me cut a hole in them so he could fuck me up the bum with them on. Thing is, his cock is so big he couldn’t force the crotch aside and it was hurting him. Didn’t matter to me; I was never going to wear them for you anyway. I hate big knickers, I only ever wore them to please you and now that I’m not doing that anymore, I wear what I like”.

“Which is what?”

“Like, very small”. 

She turned down the waistband of her jeans revealing a minuscule G-string I had never seen before, with no sense of embarrassment.

“Sorry, but he prefers thongs, and so do I.”

“Then what happened?”

"He fucked me through the hole.”

“Did you cum”?

“That’s for me to know and you to wonder about”.

I had a raging hard one by now, tenting my pajama bottoms. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice the panties underneath, but I was dying to wank.

“Please, let’s just do it one more time?”

“No. It’s over.”

“Please, I miss you so much!”

“I’m not touching you. I’m sorry, but you had it coming after I caught you wanking in my panties again. You’re not wearing them now, are you??”

I was, and she knew it.

“Show me,” she commanded. 

I dared not disobey. I lowered my jeans, revealing her favorite pink pair.

“You bastard. And you’ve got a hard on, you fucking perv”. 

I was hoping she might be turned on by the sight of my erection through the pink satin, like once before. Sharon looked at me; I was such a pathetic sight with my wilting erection under her pink panties, my pajamas round my knees.

“Go on then, panty boy, why don’t you do it in front of me and get it over with? Hurry up I’ve got to go; I’m being waited for.”

Sharon looked at her phone.

I was left with no choice. My hand involuntarily went to my aching crotch. Cupping my full balls, which were aching for release, bulging in the panties. Her panties.

“Go on then, do it to yourself if you must, but I’m gonna film it on my phone and send it to my new boyfriend for a laugh".

I had no choice; I just had to come.

She sat opposite me and I couldn’t help noticing she was syntribating, swinging her legs open and shut, almost without being aware of it. But I was. She always used to do it and deny that it caused her any pleasure, but later confessed to me that it made the tight crotch of her jeans press on her clit, without touching herself.

Please show me your thong, darling”, I was pleading now.

“Ok, just one last time. No touching!”

She wriggled out of her too-tight jeans revealing her superb arse and fit body (she had obviously been going to the gym) and the new thong I hadn’t seen before. It encased her sleek mound like a glove and disappeared between her cheeks. I was beside myself with lust for her. I sure liked thongs now. So did he, obviously. She must be buying herself new panties just for him and her.

My hand was rubbing frantically through the borrowed panties now, I was past caring what she thought anymore.

“Frig off for me darling, please I want to watch you like before.”

“I'm not your darling anymore, and I'm not frigging off for your benefit; I’ll do it for my own kicks later, after I’ve been fucked senseless, and you can just imagine it," she taunted, "Just hurry up and get on with it, if you must.”

Sharon lay back and opened her legs for me while she looked at her phone. I could see the slender piece of material disappearing up her cunt. Her sweet cunt I would never have again. The same one that was now revealing her wetness through the crotch. The one that would be fucked by her new boyfriend later tonight.

The sight of her parted thighs opening and shutting in front of me, showing the wetted crotch of her thong was more than I could bear. I could almost smell her sexy aroma and I made to get up off the bed to hold her, but she pushed me back.

“ I said, no touching. Just do yourself and get it over with. Then I can go and get fucked by someone I want to,”

Reluctantly I lay back on my bed and tried to attend to my wilting cock.

Sharon looked up from the message on her phone, 

“Ha ha, what’s the matter, panty boy? Can’t get it up?”

“I need to touch you, smell you, kiss you,” I pleaded.

“No.”

“No to all of it?"

“Oh, for god's sake, here it is, if it gets you off, just do it if you must, I’ve got to go.”

With that, she pushed me back on the bed and straddled my face, the tight material of her new thong inches from my mouth.

“Touch me and I’ll slap you. Or worse. Now get on with it; I’ve got to be somewhere else.”

Her wet crotch was almost in reach; I could smell her arousal in spite of herself.

This did it for me; I was rubbing myself frantically through her knickers, trying not to come, enjoying the moment for the last time, when she surprised me by reaching behind her to trail her fingers over my panty-clad balls, maybe just out of habit. It always brought me off. And it did.
Her wet crotch was almost within reach of my tongue as involuntarily I erupted with a month's worth of spunk through her favourite panties.
After it was over Sharon, withdrew her hand in disgust from my crotch, streaks of my spunk on her fingers.

“Enjoy that, did we?”

I nodded meekly.

“Well, enjoy this then.”

With that, she pulled the thong tight over her cunt and with a grunt, pissed herself through the material and all over my face. I could see her mocking eyes through the tears of urine.

When she had finished ruining me, she kicked off the wet thong and stuffed it in my mouth. 

Pulling on her jeans, no panties (why bother), she checked her phone, pointed the camera at me and took her memento, then picked up her clothes.

“You can keep those as a cum rag, you loser.”

She turned on her kitten heels and left me to clean it all up.