It pays the odd bill but I couldn't make a living from selling my used knickers and tights. The thrill of a new buyer was always the same, but the routine had grown stale. That was until a message popped up on my screen one evening from a man named Mike. He was willing to pay four times the price if he could collect them in person. The proposition was unusual, but the extra cash was too tempting to ignore. We agreed to meet at my place the next day.
I had been seeing the same buyers for a while, and they were all a bit... vanilla. They liked the idea of owning a piece of me, but none had ever asked to be part of the process. Mike was different, and the excitement was palpable. That night after my shower, I picked out my favourite set of lacy black panties and matching tights. I wore the panties all night and the tights, all the next day, thinking about what was to come.
When Mike arrived, I met him at the door. He was taller than I expected, with a kind smile and a gentle demeanor. He handed me the cash without saying a word, his eyes glued to my arse as we went through the hallway.
"You can take them off now," he said, his voice husky with anticipation.
My heart was racing. I leaned against the wall and began to slide my tights down my legs, inch by inch, watching the desire build in his eyes. The fabric was warm and sticky from the heat of the day, leaving a trail of my scent as they peeled away. I stepped out of them and handed them over, my panties still nestled against my pussy.
Mike took the tights with trembling hands, inhaling deeply. "These are... amazing," he murmured, his eyes glazed over.
"You want my panties now?" I asked.
He looked up at me, a glint in his eye. "No, there's one more thing I'd like to do."
My curiosity piqued, I nodded. "What's that?"
"I want to taste you," he said, his voice thick with lust. "May I?"
I felt my cheeks flush and my pussy throb at the thought. No one had ever asked to do that before when they were buying my dirty panties. It was a line that had never been crossed, but something about Mike made me want to say yes. I nodded again, feeling a thrill of excitement run through me.
"On one condition..." I said.
"Yes?"
"I can video you eating me out so I can show my husband later, he will fucking love it!" I replied.
Mike dropped to his knees and pushed my legs apart as I perched myself on the arm of the settee, his eyes never leaving mine. He leaned in and kissed my inner thigh, his stubble tickling my skin. I gasped as his tongue traced the edge of my panties, teasing me through the fabric. I could feel the wetness growing, my body responding to his touch despite the oddness of the situation.
With a quick tug, he pulled my panties aside and licked my clit. I moaned, my knees buckling slightly. He was surprisingly good at it, considering he had just paid to collect my dirty knickers. He worked my pussy with his mouth, his tongue flicking and probing as I leaned back against the wall for support.
Before I knew it, I was grinding against his face, my hips moving in time with his eager licks. He was insatiable, pushing deeper, tasting me like I was the sweetest pussy he'd ever had. The tension built, my orgasm approaching like a freight train.
As I came, my body convulsing with pleasure, Mike pulled away and began to unbuckle his belt. He stood up and pulled out his cock, stroking it as he watched me pant and tremble. "Can I cum on you?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, too lost in the aftermath of my climax to speak. He stepped closer, and with a few swift strokes, he was ready to cum. He leaned in and painted my pussy with his seed, the warmth of it mixing with my own juices.
We stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, the silence only broken by the sound of his cum dripping down my legs. Then, as if remembering his manners, Mike handed me a wad of tissues to clean up.
"Thank you," he murmured, tucking his cock back into his pants.
Mike left with a final smile, and I closed the door behind him. As I walked back to my bedroom, I realized that this was a service I could offer to all my clients. It was definitely more intimate than just dropping off a bag of used underwear, but the extra cash was too good to pass up. Plus, it was a thrill to know that I could make a man cum just by letting him watch me take them off and clean up afterward.
And so, my little side hustle grew. I began to offer personal pick-ups for a premium, and the buyers lined up. Each one had their own kink, their own way of enjoying the experience. Some liked to watch me masturbate, others liked to lick me clean. It was a world of fetish and desire that I had never known existed, and I found myself becoming a part of it.
In the end, it wasn't just about the money. It was about the power I had over these men, the control I wielded with my body. And as I lay in bed that night, telling Tony every detail as he watched the clip on my phone, I couldn't help looking forward to the next guy who asked for the 'enhanced service'.
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Loved reading this 
