I Could See Her Panties

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I Could See Her Panties
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I'm slightly obsessed with cute panties and lingerie! My channel is all about my favorite things... I love showing off cute lingerie and my subscribers help feed my obsession by sending me gifts from my amazon wish list. Sometimes I get really great sponsored videos that I share with you, subscribers usually get access to special discounts and sales! Subscribe so you'll never miss my latest videos💋

Love, Kiki

To collaborate email lovekikimarie@gmail.com
*Summer Vibes // Bikinis and Jean Shorts
July 4 Swimsuits // Target Try-On Haul
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stockings, legs, heels, panties, wife, wives, swingers, short sk
/ladies_in_short_skirts_and_very_high_heels7

View all All Photos Tagged Wife's panties



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One of my wife's favorite pair panties..
DO NOT FAVORITE WITHOUT LEAVING COMMENTS OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!
Please do not be rude and view without comments. Wife enjoys comments
The fact that her husband bought her underwear for Christmas was not, in and of itself, the problem. The problem lay in the nature of the underwear - control-top panties and something called a shaper.
"A what?" she asked, holding up the garment, which was made of heavy flesh-coloured latex.
"A shaper," said her husband, leaning forward, genuinely excited... anxious to appreciate his wife's appreciation. "The girl in the store said everyone's wearing them, even women you'd think are thin."
The wife was skeptical. Kneeling on the floor, surrounded by scraps of paper and ribbon and empty cardboard boxes, she turned the garment inside out and looked at its label. She pretended for some time to be absorbed in this. The husband assumed she was memorizing the washing instructions. In fact, she was trying to control her emotions. She was somewhere between bursting into tears (especially since the shaper was size XL) and having a full-blown, toddler-style tantrum.
What the fuck had the husband been thinking?
She glanced over. He still looked excited. "Put it on!" he said. "Let's see how it looks."
"Um," said the wife, still holding the garment. "Maybe tomorrow." Her voice was unsteady. The husband didn't seem to notice.
"No," he said. "Try it now! Please?" And she was baffled. The shaper was, as far as she could see, decidedly unsexy. It was, in plain terms, a girdle. And a heavy duty one at that.
She sat silently, looking at the thing, and wondering about her husband's excitement. "I know it doesn't look so hot in the box," he said, "but on, it's a whole 'nother story. Trust me!"
"How would you know?" the wife asked.
"Because," he gushed, realizing even as the words were coming out that he'd regret them, "the sales girl tried it on for me."
"Yes," said the husband, feeling the air around her cool but still too lost in his own happy memories to take real notice.
"Yes," he said. "She tried on a whole bunch of stuff for me - fancy lacy stuff, and stringy things, and see-through things...."
The wife stared in disbelief. But he was on a roll.
"She looked soooo good in all those things," he said, "and I wanted to buy them for you. But she asked about your body type and we agreed that it just wouldn't be the same on you."
The husband was now staring into the middle distance... brain and other body parts still in the department store.
"She was tall and had these lo-o-o-ng legs," he said softly. He didn't have to add "Not like you."
And the wife really didn't need to hear any more.
As he continued recounting the tale of the long-legged sales girl in the change room with the lingerie, the wife got up and went to the kitchen and rifled through the drawers for the measuring spoons. She found the old plastic ones and, bracing them against the counter, cracked off the business end of the 1/8 teaspoon.
Back in the living room, she found her husband still staring off into the distance, mumbling something about see-through panels. Or maybe see-through panties. She couldn't hear him clearly.
"Here," she said, rousing him from his reverie. "For you."
He jumped a little and looked down at the tiny bit of broken spoon.
"A cup," she said. "For when you next play hockey. I figure you can fit your gear and your common sense in there. And... here," she bent down and picked up the shaper. "You can hold it all together with this."
this thong accentuates her cheeks ;)
love this VS thong... so sexy on her!
This outfit is a total mish-mash but i loved wearing it!
It consisted of black bra, black panties, 2 pairs of 100d black pantyhose for full tattoo coverage, black PU skirt, black satin blouse tied at the waist, black 4" knee high boots and my wife's handbag. I don't have a handbag and don't really have a use for one, apart form for this photo so i just nabbed hers!
It was nice to get my summer wardrobe out finaly! I do love bright colours.
Apologies for the blurred face. My mrs is at home and i aren't putting my Chevy Chase on here without my war paint.
This is my own hair and was styled by the cast of Fraggle Rock.
love this VS thong... so sexy on her!
Isabella did my nails in her favorite color. She did such a great job. 😍❤ New video 6-15-2022
All our Videos are on youtube.com now.
New videos every Wednesday & Sunday
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Susanna Jones wore her 'This is the way it will happen' look on her face as she sat in the office of the Crushmen Sisters and faced Edith Crushmen across her imposing oak desk. Her husband sat beside her, in a lower chair decorated with pink and white chiffon as if it was borrowed from a wedding reception. He dared a glimpse at Susanna: her head erect, her blond hair brushing the shoulders of her white jacket, her lipstick set in a satisfied grin of scarlet gloss. When she looked like this it was almost always when she was overriding her meek and obedient husband, as it was today. He loved her for it - but at the same time he would have to put up with her decision.
"You want him feminized, Missus Jones," declared the senior Sister. "You wouldn't have brought him to us otherwise. May I ask you why?"
Susanna lifted an eyebrow and turned her look on Alan beside her. "Hmmph," she snorted. "Look at him. Does he look male to you? Would you be proud to have people see him as your husband? Would he suit male clothes, a wimp like him?"
Alan Jones drooped under her glare, crushed by her estimation of him, and the tears pricked at his eyes ready to run down his cheeks into the lacy circular frill of white silk organza that surrounded his hair, his cheeks and his chin. How cruel it was of Susanna to borrow her mother's blouse to put him in for his first visit to the Crushmen Sisters. He was allowed to wear a cardigan over it, in pale blue angora, but it was this neck frill that the woman on the other side of the table would see, marking him down as a spineless, milksop sissy under the thumb of his wife.
"He can't pass as a male any longer. I've had enough of all this pretending. He has to be transformed - with no room for doubt or second thoughts."
It was Edith Crushmen's turn to lift her nose in the air and look down on the object of her visitor's scorn. Her dark crimson lips curled into a sneer of contempt which added to the impression of superior maturity created in Alan's thumping heart by her drawn back hair and thin-rimmed spectacles. He felt her eyes covering him with the close scrutiny of a woman who despises men in general but him in particular. She shook her head slowly as if agreeing that for such a creep there was no arguing about his watery sex. "Yes," she said with a tut. "He is sexless. It remains for us to agree the level of his feminization."
"VERY feminine," snapped Susanna. "Com-PLETE-ly feminine, Miss Edith. As un-sexed as you can make him, please. Damn the cost, just do it!"
Her words brought a chuckle from the sex-practitioner. For Alan Jones it was the blow of a sledge-hammer. A wail started then died in his throat as he all but fainted. What was going to become of him? How could his beloved Susanna do this?
"Excellent, ma'am. I admire your decision. Your husband will be conditioned to accept feminine dressing, and the level of dressing we impose will depend on how much he needs for converting his psyche. I suspect we'll make him a pantie-waist by the time today's finished."
Susanna perked up. "Really? I'd like to see that. I thought we were talking weeks of training."
"You're forgetting my sister and I know what we're doing, Missus Jones." Edith Crushmen stood up as she spoke and walked round the desk, closing on the quivering husband. "Get up," came the order and Alan stumbled to his feet to avoid what he thought was going to be a heavy clout round the head. He started with fright as her latex gloves lifted the hem of his cardigan and found the fastening of his Mother-In-Law's pink satin trousers. "Our methods will impress upon his feeble mind how what we say we mean, and that what we do to him will be permanent. He's got a quick learning curve ahead of him."
Alan's wife watched in awe as her husband stepped his high heels out of the trousers round his ankles at the same time as having his cardigan unbuttoned, slipped off his arms and tossed onto the desktop. It was followed by her mother's royal blue satin French knickers, so that all he wore was her blouse. The hostess turned him round in both hands to face his wife, lifted the front of his blouse and seized the half erected cock beneath.
"This thing is going to be most respectful to your Mistresses today, Alan Jones," she said, holding it in one hand and plucking at its head with her latex fingers. "It already liked wearing your Mother-In-Law's panties, I see, and her blouse. It's going to get used to a more effective level of female apparel, better suited to your immature nature. Because you're a pathetic little sissy, Alan Jones, aren't you?"
Her fingers were unbelievably successful at bringing her captive to a state of high stiffness, so that when the woman stopped pulling at his knob and held his blouse up out of the way, Susanna was treated to a very stiff cock indeed.
"Oh my God," she cried with a thrill of confidence in the Crushmen Sisters. "I've never seen it like that. So what kind of things are you going to dress the buffoon in?"
"Clothing that will keep this useless dick in a state of adoration and respect. I believe that is what you would like, ma'am."
"Yes, and so would his Mother-In-Law when she moves in. We are both expecting abject submission and obedience when we have him in his place. What time shall I come back to pick him up?"
"I'm guessing five. If there's a problem, although I can't see this blouse-boy giving us any trouble, I'll be in touch."
It was when Susanna stood up to go that her husband was seized with panic. "Susanna! Darling, don't leave me. I don't know what she's going to do to me. Please take me home with you. Ahhh! Ohhhhh!"
He would have begged longer and in much more forceful terms but his captor had his cock again and was jerking it more vigorously than before, keeping him under her close control. "You're going nowhere, fairy. You're coming with me to meet Miss Cynthia. She'll be so pleased to find how girly you already are, just right for dressing in such pretty things for your girly nature." He all but collapsed on the arm she had round his waist as her fingertips slowed to a steady frolling around his naked knob, its stiffness bringing a splutter of scorn from his wife at the door. "We'll see you at five, Missus Jones."
A long wail of despair in the poor man's throat ended as a fit of uncontrollable sobs as he was held from behind by his elbows and propelled across the room to the inner door. His pulse was racing, his cock was aching and his tears were rolling down his cheeks.
"Cynthia dear, look who we've got. It's Alan stiff-cock Jones."
The wretched husband panicked at the appearance of the tall woman who strode towards him. Like her sister, Cynthia Crushmen wore her hair pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head. She also wore a blouse in lilac satin with a fussy frill round her throat and short pretty sleeves at her shoulders. Her skirt was in a deep aubergine purple that shone with glossy smoothness and her legs hissed and sizzled inside it until she reached him.
"Oh yes, I can see you have a very sissy cock, Mister Jones," she cried, taking over its fondling from Edith. "It's loving your pretty blouse, darling, isn't it? It's just longing to be feminized by Mistress Edith and Mistress Cynthia. Aren't you lucky that we are going to be looking after you today, to make your feminine dreams come true?"
Alan would have loved to reply. It was almost a chance for him to stand up for himself and tell her that it was all a mistake, and he definitely did NOT want to be feminized, and he didn't want to wear Carmen's blouse either. It was all a coincidence that his cock was so aroused. But just as he was trying to form the words, he found himself pulled into the front of her blouse, his face buried in its frill with her arms round him, and his cock pressed into her satin skirt.
Ohhh it felt so delicious, being clasped into her slippery clothing and her strong, cuddling body. "Alan, precious, I can see you are BORN to be girly. When I saw you in your blouse I knew it straight away: your smooth, shapely legs belong on a girl, with panties at the top and pretty lacy ankle socks at the bottom. What do you think, Edith? Shall we put Alan into girls' panties right this minute?"
The pleasure of pressing into Mistress Cynthia's blouse and skirt suddenly doubled as he felt the caress of Mistress Edith's skirt up the back of his legs and her hands sliding down his hips to his thighs as she squeezed his blouse between her and her sister. "Let me just feel how sensitive and soft these legs are, just here at the top," she cooed close to his ear. "And round here, at the front, just where Alan's legs meet his tummy, and here where his testes are just beginning."
Their captive moaned and his knees lost all sense of support, held upright in spite of his weakness between their satin skirts. Her fingers explored, softly, in delicate tickling strokes, as Alan felt softer and more clueless.
"We must dress you as a girl, pet," said Edith behind him. "And that means we must deprive you of your lovely blouse. Is it your wife's blouse, darling? It's so soft and so-o-o-o feminine."
The stiffness of Alan's cock, pushed deep into Cynthia's belly through her skirt, was making him feel really affectionate towards Carmen's blouse. "I-It's m-my Mother-In-Law's blouse, ma'am," he confessed. "It's - It's lovely."
A strange feeling of self-defeat passed through his head as the words escaped him, but his feelings for her blouse became all the stronger as Edith stood behind him, fluttering it in her fingers to judge its supple softness.
"I'll have to unfasten all the buttons down your back, honey, starting here at the bottom - and working upwards. Mmm they're such pretty blouse buttons, in shiny white plastic. No wonder you are excited about wearing Mummy-In-Law's blouse."
The neck frill parted and fell away from his face, then Cynthia helped to undo his cuffs, his cock still pressed against the satin of her skirt, so that the blouse could slide down his arms for Edith to set it to one side. "I can tell you for sure, Mistress Cynthia," said Edith, "that Master Alan's bottom cheeks are very smooth, very rounded and extremely girly. I'm going to dress them in these pink silk panties, because I'm sure his clitoris will love that, don't you agree?"
"Ha-ha yes," replied her sister. "Look how Alan is blushing and holding his cheeks in soft girly hands. He KNOWS his bottom cheeks and his clittie would LOVE to be in pink panties, don't you, darling?"
Alan gasped for breath and thought he was supposed to answer. "Ohhh, yes - yes I suppose." His legs pressed together with one knee sliding across the other in a spasm of girlish feelings. The panties were so pretty, with almost vertical leg slots on either side of the central gusset in doubled pink silk, and his heart missed a couple of beats at how sweetly the leg openings were edged with silk frills three or four inches deep. They were so GIRLY!
He had to dip a foot into each leg, and watch with breathless panting as Edith slid the panty up his legs to his knees. Cynthia took his weight, leaning his bare ass back into her skirt, so that he could part his knees to allow the panties to slide between them, then onto his thighs, until the panty silk reached the aching balls of his testes.
"There's no need to be anxious, darling," soothed Cynthia into his ear as she felt his arms tense and his fingernails clutch into her hands where she had them wrapped across his bare waist. "Look how stiff your little clittie is. It can't wait to be pantied in pink silk. There - isn't that sweet? - and the panty gusset goes right up there, over your clittie knob, to make Alan's personal places com-PLETE-ly feminine."
"How lovely," cried Edith, her fingers adjusting and playing with his panty waist elastic for several seconds, before her fingers went on to fondle the contour of his cock in the stretched silk of his vertical gusset.
Alan's breath failed to drain out of him, he was so tensed up because of his panties. "Are - Are they girls' panties?" he wanted to know as his knees slid repeatedly across each other. It was as well that Cynthia was holding him up, while at the same time she managed to slide one hand down the side of his panty to cup the underside of his scrotum in one of her latex gloves.
"Yes dear," said Edith. "All our panties are loaned to us by local girls for us to dress our sissies in real girls' panties. This pair belongs to Amanda, and she will get them back after you have used them."
"Her panties will help you to realise that you really are a girl, darling," said Cynthia. "Now hold your hands sweetly out to the sides while pressing your elbows into the waist elastic of Amanda's panties. Have we got some nice girls' socks for Alan, Mistress Edith?"
"We've got these lovely frilly anklets that have been loaned to us by Britney. Aren't they pretty, dear. Do you like them?"
"Ohhh
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