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To be honest, I was panicking. From the outside I looked like an average teenager. Skinny black jeans. Indie band tee, maybe a size too small on my Bowie-thin frame. Cherry red Converse high tops. Straight dark hair cut into a fashionable (if you were an NME reading indie-kid) boy bob. But underneath I was sporting skimpy black panties and stockings and suspenders, all ?borrowed? from my sister?s underwear draw. Drenched to the bone and locked out of the house, I was having a Hugh Grant in ?Four Weddings and a Funeral? moment: ?Fuck, fuck, fuck-ity, fuck!?. What the hell was I thinking, leaving the house ?dressed? and without a key. I?d have to wait for mum or dad to get home, and they?d immediately use their x-ray vision to see what I was hiding under my clothes. Shit. I was of course being completely irrational. I?d just spent the last three hours out in public and no-one had blinked an eye lid. No one could see the lingerie I was wearing. But it didn?t stop me worrying like hell. So when I heard a friendly hello from a couple of driveways down I almost jumped out of my skin. ?Hi. Are you ok?? the voice asked.Shit. What to say? I obviously looked anxious, how could I recover from this and appear normal? Turning round, I almost forgot how worried I was. It was Jenny, our next door neighbour, too. She looked really fucking hot, soaked like me, long hair clinging to her face and neck, dressed in a crop top running bra and skimpy shorts, trainers and ankle socks. She was taking her head phones off and looking at me expectantly. ?Errr. Yeah. Fine thanks. Just, umm, locked out of the house and, you know, a bit wet,? I answered, gesturing at my soaking clothes. What the hell was I saying? I groaned inside at how stupid I sounded. She looked at me and smiled mischievously, ?Well. No need to look so upset about it. There?s nothing wrong with being wet.?She wiped the rain and sweat from her forehead and took a swig from her water bottle, ?Especially when you?re hot and wet.?I had a lump in my throat and my mouth was bone dry. The way she said it I thought I was going to cum in my pants. It was funny and smutty and sexy all at the same time. ?It?s Chris isn?t it?? she asked.?Err, yes,? I answered hesitantly. ?Well Christian, really.?I nervously mumbled. She looked at me with a quizzical expression, obviously not hearing me clearly from thirty metres away.?So, Christy, do you want to come in and dry off?? she asked. I must?ve looked horrified at the suggestion, ?Or at least get out Escort ankara of the rain until this downpour stops?? I couldn?t believe it. This was the offer of a lifetime. Jenny was undoubtedly the hottest older woman I?d ever met. Her and her husband were in their mid thirties and had moved in a couple of years ago. They had done a massive re-modelling job on the house, and although I hadn?t seen inside, I?d heard from my parents that it was a pretty impressive project. My main memory of her was looking out of my bedroom window one evening and seeing her being escorted to the car by James, (who was in a 70?s disco suit), dressed as a Playboy bunny ? heels, fishnets, basque, bunny ears. The full deal. Definitely one for the wank-bank. In the end, she made the decision for me. There was a massive roll of thunder and a couple of seconds later a sheet of lightning flashed across the sky in the way only a summer storm can. ?Come on Christy,? she said, ?I?m not leaving you out here in this.?With that I jogged across the front gardens and into her front door. Stepping over the threshold, I couldn?t help but be impressed. They?d turned a bog standard 1930?s detached house into something beautifully modern. White walls, oak flooring, mid-century furniture and vibrant prints on the walls, with plenty of natural light flooding in. It was like a Grand Designs house. Whilst I stood on the mat gawking, Jenny was taking off her trainers ? obviously a no shoes house! ? so I did the same. ?Wow. Nice house,? I commented, ?This is really amazing.?She wandered through the double doors at the end of the hall. ?Come on through Christy,? she called back to me, ?let?s see if we can get dried off.??It?s Christian,? I called back, following her through the doors into a massive open plan kitchen / dining room / lounge, which extended across the full width of the house. Two sets of bi-fold doors showed off the patio and landscaped garden beyond. Jen re-appeared from the utility room with a couple of white fluffy towels and threw me one, using the other to dry her hair and wipe the sweat and rain from her body. Thanking her, I did the same, bending my head down to get to the back of my head. Then I froze again. Looking down I could see my stocking encased feet poking out from the bottom of my jeans. Shit. What to do. I decided to act natural. Or at least whatever passes as natural for a shy nineteen-year-old about to be exposed as a cross-dresser by his hot neighbour. Standing Balgat escort up I shuffled closer to the kitchen island unit, so she couldn?t see my feet. ?So,? she said, ?what can I do you for?? ?Sorry?? I answered, hiding my confusion. I wasn?t used to this kind of banter from real adults. ?You know, what can I get you? Tea, coffee, something harder? I?m going to have a white wine. Fancy one?? ?Sure.? I answered. ?Why not. It?s not morning so that?s ok, right??She smiled at my attempt at humour and took a couple of glasses from a cupboard and selected a bottle from the wine fridge. Pouring she continued, ?What else? A change of clothes? I could put those wet ones in the dryer for you, you know.? She walked round the island and gave me the glass and I took a glug. ?Or maybe just a new pair of socks??I almost snorted the mouthful of wine out of my nose. Looking up at her I saw that mischievous smile and then we both looked at my feet. ?Errr?it?s a? there?s a?? I stumbled, feeling myself blush. There was a lump in my throat the size of a tennis ball. I couldn?t get any words out and I knew I must be bright red. She chuckled playfully. ?No need to explain. I?d wear nylons all the time too if I had half a chance. So what are they? I love stockings the best. Tights just keep riding up on me. And please don?t let them be pop socks. I?d have to ask you to leave. Knee highs I can go with, but pop socks are a no-no.? I looked at her and couldn?t see any malice in her face, so stuttered out my answer ? stockings. She looked at me approvingly and in that look I felt as if I?d passed some kind of test. ?Come on then, I?m going to get out of these sweaty clothes and the offer still stands for you too.? She led the way back into the hallway and then up the stairs. Following her up the steps I couldn?t keep my eyes off her gorgeous arse and marvelled to myself at the turnaround in events. Not only hadn?t she freaked out, but she seemed to be taking me upstairs for sex. I was still in a daze when we got to the landing and she led me to the spare room. And that?s when the fantasy stopped.?So ? the en-suite?s through there. Leave your clothes outside and I?ll pop them in the dryer.?I must?ve looked disappointed. This wasn?t going to end with me burying my face in her cleavage and my cock in her pussy after all. She smiled at me and just said that I?d find a towel in the bathroom and she?d leave a robe out for me. With that she turned and left, leaving the Batıkent escort bayan door slightly ajar. Thinking there wasn?t much other option, I stripped off and left my clothes, lingerie included, outside the room. I stepped into the en-suite, pulled the door shut behind me and checked out the facilities which were?impressive.This was bigger than the family bathroom at my house. Free standing bath, huge walk in shower, floor to ceiling mirror on one wall. God this was nice and quite kinky really. Whether you were in the bath or the shower you?d have a pretty good view of whatever you decided to get up to. I stepped into the shower and turned on the taps. Soon I was wet all over and I let the hot water wash away my anxieties. Fuck it. It is what it is. If she wants to tell my parents, then so be it. There?s not much I can do about it now, I decided. I washed and conditioned my hair, used a cocoa butter body scrub on the rest of me and even douched my arse, bending over and letting the warm water from the shower head gush into my butt hole. There was a fresh razor, so I gave my legs, chest and underarms a quick once over. I?d started doing this at the beginning of summer, not having to worry any more about what anyone would say when getting changed for sports in front of my school mates.Then I was done. I turned off the taps, grabbed a towel and dabbed myself dry. On the sink top there was a body moisturiser, scented like the shower gel, so I took a couple of handfuls and massaged it into skin. I even had a good go at my cock and balls, and of course my butt cheeks and little star ? frankly this whole experience had left me equal parts confused and horny at the same time. Looking at myself in that massive mirror as I rubbed the lotion over my slender body was a hell of a turn on. We didn?t have a mirror this big at home and I could really examine every inch of me. I was pleased to see that I?d done a good job shaving, and I was especially happy with the tidy-up of my landing strip, which I hadn?t tidied up for a couple of days. Touching my intimate areas and twisting my body so I could look at myself was getting me hot and I could feel the blood pumping into my cock, making it throb gently. Thinking I better not do anything that might upset my host, I managed to restrain myself and returned to the bedroom. Jenny was obviously a fast worker. On the bed was the promised robe, so I picked it up and put it on. It was, to say the least, short, barely coming down to my mid-thigh. In the pockets there was another surprise for me - the cheeky cow had stuffed some panties and a pair of stockings into the pockets.There was even a handwritten note in there, which read: ?Thought you?d like to slip into something more comfortable!?I took a deep breath and made a decision.