I always think that a woman's undies (or more particularly her knickers) tell you more about her in two minutes than knowing the girl for a whole year might otherwise do. So I expected Beth's knickers to be what I guess she and her Mum would call the "sensible" sort, and its true to say that most of them were. But right at the bottom of the bag there was a pair of black lace knickers, as well as a see-through red pair with an embroidered pink heart shape on the front. There was also a couple of really short skirts and black pantyhose concealed in a plastic bag. This got me interested because it wasn't the Beth that me and Angie knew. I wanted to find out more. I wanted to discover the real Bethany - the healthy a****l beneath the mask. I could already feel my cock getting aroused at this discovery of what she wore against her pussy. I knew I had at least an hour, so I spread her knickers out on the bed and started masturbating. I kept sniffing them, imagining the fabric up against. Anything, even a paddle, as long as he was the one wielding it, was what she craved. ‘Mark, baby, please look at me.’ She saw him with his head back, the way he stood when he was trying to sort what was in his head. ‘Sweetheart, just let me hold your hand, please.’ She saw him look at her and for the first time since she walked in the door, she saw the Mark that she had fallen head over heels in love with and had given herself more completely to than he would ever know. Mark moved like a man fighting himself, and he literally was. His head was screaming at him to throw the bitch out of the house and his heart was shredded by the pain he saw in her eyes. It turned into a raging debate with one side screaming to remember what the cunt did, and the other just staring with wide eyes at the fragile creature sobbing uncontrollably. He walked that mental tightrope for what seemed an eternity. There was human nature and then there was ‘Mark’ nature, and as far back as he could remember his.
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