Chapter Two
Once again, I was searching the entire apartment like a crazy person, but this time, instead of a TV remote, I was trying to find lacy pink underwear.
I checked the washing machine three times, as if hoping they’d magically appear.
I searched every inch of my bedroom, including my closet and the drawers where I kept all my lingerie.
After an hour, I’d searched every single room of the apartment. Every room except Ben’s.
Maybe…maybe he accidentally took them. It sounded unlikely, but socks went missing all the time, right? Maybe my panties had gotten tangled up in his clothes.
He was at class, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t return for a while yet. It wouldn’t take me long to check. Just for peace of mind.
I tried the door, and just like last time, it swung open. I closed the door behind me, then got started.
I checked his closet, looking through his folded pants and t-shirts and his drawer of socks (all neatly sorted). I checked his underwear drawer too, trying not to feel like a creep as I searched for lacy pink within the collection of black and grey boxer-briefs.
After exhausting his closet, I tried the rest of his room, until I’d looked everywhere.
Everywhere except that locked drawer, that is. The silver keyhole seemed to taunt me, and I moved towards it, as if under some spell. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he’d bought the bedside table without caring abut the locked drawer.
Or maybe it did hold something. Cash? Valuables? Weed?
I tried the drawer, not sure what I was expecting, and just like last time, it remained stubbornly closed. Something — irritation? Determination? — surged through me. I would find out what was in that drawer. I had to.
Then the apartment door swung open loudly, and I jumped.
Shit. I was in Ben’s room again . Sneaking around and looking through his things again .
I doubted he’d be so amicable if he caught me a second time. Also, I didn’t want to explain that I was searching for my panties. It would sound like an accusation, and the whole thing would just be so awkward.
I heard the creak of his approaching footsteps, and I moved without thinking.
Which is how I found myself hiding in the closet, peering through the wooden slats hoping to god he couldn’t hear my breathing or the pounding of my heart.
Ben entered his bedroom and closed the door behind himself. He didn’t appear to notice anything off, and I sucked in a few breaths.
Calm down, Jules. It’s okay. You won’t be caught.
At least it was comfortably in the closet, sitting with my back to the wall, the carpet soft under my legs. All I had to do was wait until Ben left, then sneak out. I could do this.
Ben dropped his backpack by his desk, then sat on his bed, back against the headboard. He pulled out his phone.
Right. So he was just chilling after a long day of classes.
One minute passed. Then another. I fought the urge to shake with impatience.
God, how long was he going to stay there? If he was on social media, he’d probably be occupied for hours. What was he even doing? Watching cat videos?
His legs shifted, and then he slid a hand down the front of his pants.
And just like that, all my impatience evaporated. My breath caught in my throat. Oh .
He kept his eyes on his phone and while I couldn’t see much, it was clear his right hand was moving up and down. He played a video, and the volume was low, but I could still make out the distinctive sound of a female moan.
Yeah, he was definitely not watching cat videos.
I knew I shouldn’t watch. I should close my eyes and plug my ears. But I was frozen. Maybe I was simply fascinated that Ben — nerdy, socially awkward, shy Ben — jacked off like every other man.
After a minute, he dropped the phone and pulled his pants off, letting them fall off the bed onto the carpet. He shoved the waistband of his boxer briefs down, and out popped…
Holy mother of god. He was hung. I never would’ve guessed, but he had to be seven or eight inches, and he was so fucking thick and…
Between my legs, something pulsed with desire. Was my mouth watering? It was definitely watering.
I flinched. What was I doing? This was Ben I was thinking about.
But I hadn’t seen a naked man in so long, and his cock was so big and hard.
I’d never been with anyone who was as big as him.
Part of me didn’t believe cocks like that existed in real life.
That they were something that belonged only in porn videos.
He started stroking himself again, faster and harder. The head of his cock was deep pink and dripping pre-cum, which he used to lubricate himself. With his other hand, he picked up his phone and watched it intently, a tiny little crease in his brow.
It was hot as hell.
I never thought I’d think that about Ben of all people, but my entire body felt weak. There was pressure building up in between my legs. I could feel myself get aroused.
Ben grunted, then made an annoyed noise, scaring the hell out of me. Had he sensed me?
But no, it looked like something on his phone had irritated him. He let go of his dick, tossed the phone to the side, and leaned over towards his bedside table. He’d dropped his keys on the top, and they jangled and clinked as he picked them up.
He picked out one of the keys, leaned over the edge of the bed and unlocked the bottom drawer.
I couldn’t breathe. My entire body felt tight with curiosity.
He dug through it, and I could hear a variety of things move, and irritation flashed through me. If only I had a better view! I couldn’t see anything from here.
Then he pulled something out, and the sight of it shocked me to the core.
Tiny. Pink. Lacy.
My missing panties.
My stomach dropped to my feet, and part of me wanted to burst out of the closet right then and there and demand what the fuck he was doing, stealing my stuff. But I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t have moved even if I wanted it to, and besides, he couldn’t know I was spying on him.
Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe it wasn’t my underwear, but someone else’s.
But no. As he leaned back against the headboard, clutching the panties in his hand, it was clear they were mine. They were the exact same pair. There was no mistaking it.
He spread his legs, using one hand to stroke his cock, the other holding my panties. He brought them up to his nose and breathed them in, letting out a low, satisfied groan.
Holy fuck. Ben was a freak .
He smelled them as he jerked himself off faster and faster, his fist a blur on his cock. Then he took the crotch of the panties — the part that had pressed flush against my pussy — and put that part in his mouth.
My jaw dropped open. I kind of wanted to scream.
What the actual fuck was he doing? But also…why did it turn me on, in a sick and twisted sort of way?
This was such creepy behavior, yet part of me wanted to slide a hand down my pants and rub my clit.
I watched, frozen with a mix of horror and lust, as he sucked on the panties while stroking himself. His eyes were closed, and he looked lost in pleasure, occasionally letting out grunts and moans that were muffled by the lacy fabric.
His legs jerked and his body went taught, and I realized he was about to cum. I sucked in a breath, feeling anticipation in spite of myself.
At the last minute, he took the panties out of his mouth, wrapped it around his cock, and came a second later, grunting as he shot white ropes. The creamy cum landed on my panties, which, in addition to his spit, were a wet, soggy mess.
I was completely disgusted.
I also kind of wanted to lick it up.
Ben’s cheeks were pink, his face damp with sweat, and his eyes fluttered shut. He let go of his cock, which was softening.
The entire thing felt like a dream.
Eventually, he got out of bed, took the panties, and left the room. A moment later, I heard the shower running, and I used the opportunity to slip out of the closet, leave his bedroom, and I ran out of the apartment.
An hour later, I was on my second lap walking around campus, my skin still feeling hot after everything that just happened.
What the actual hell. Should I move out immediately?
No. First I’d need to confront Ben. I nodded to myself, confident in my decision. I knew exactly how it would go. He’d stutter and turn red and eventually he’d admit to it.
And maybe…maybe, if I was feeling forgiving, I’d tell him it was okay. And I’d push him down on his king bed. And I’d take out that huge, thick, throbbing —
I closed my eyes, needing a moment to compose myself.
Fifteen minutes later, I was back in the apartment. Ben’s bedroom door was closed. I knocked on it.
A moment later, he opened the door. Looking past him, I saw that his laptop was open on his desk. He’d been studying.
“Hey Juliet,” he said, looking totally normal. If I hadn’t seen him, I’d never think he’d masturbated with my stolen panties.
“Hi,” I said. Alright, time to do this . “So, I have a question. It’s a bit awkward though.”
“You can ask me anything.”
God, he really looked so innocent.
“Um.” I swallowed. “I was doing my laundry earlier and realized I’m missing some underwear. They’re pink, lacy…”
Ben looked blank.
I frowned. This was the part he was supposed to turn red. “Have you seen them?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I haven’t, sorry.” He took a step back.
I stepped forward, so he couldn’t close the door on me. “Are you sure?” I asked. “Are you sure you didn’t accidentally take them?”
He blinked at me. “No, of course not. I think I’d know if I picked up pink lacy lingerie.”
“Alright,” I said, losing my patience. “Here’s the deal, Ben. I know you took them, so if you could just admit it —”
A laugh cut me off. Ben stared at me, looking completely incredulous. “Juliet, are you seriously accusing me of stealing your panties?”
“I’m not accusing you,” I said. “I know you have them. Just give them back and it’s no big deal.”
No big deal. Yeah, right. I needed to expose him as a liar.
“I don’t have them,” he said, looking at me like I was speaking nonsense. “Honestly, why would I take your panties? What would I use them for?”
“To jerk off,” I said.
There. There was the tiniest twitch in his expression. Then his face smoothed out. He stepped forward, meaning I had no choice but to stumble backwards, out of the doorway. He seemed taller than ever as he towered over me.
“Listen, Juliet. You might be pretty, but not every man is tripping over themselves to fuck you. I’m certainly not so infatuated with you that I’d stoop as low as low as stealing your underwear.
You probably just misplaced them. I’d help you search for them, but I’m in the middle of finishing an assignment right now and I need to get back to it. ”
With that, he closed the door in my face.