No Panties? No Problem!

Cory Chase froze when she learned the truth. Myra had stopped wearing panties. Flat out. Just let her skirt swing and felt the air. Cory kept her voice level, told her it was reckless, made her promise. Myra said the words, smiled with her eyes, and kept going bare beneath every dress after that. Three days later a gust flipped the hem high. Smooth cheeks, bare skin, no cotton. Cory watched her daughter walk home without underwear like it was normal. Cory said she’d get smacked by strangers if she kept this up. Myra shrugged and called it a possibility. Cory spun her around, palm landing hard on the bare cheek. The sound cracked through the room. Myra stayed perfectly still, then sighed, pushing back for the next strike. Heat rose to the surface, the skin pinking under every slap. Cory kept her rhythm steady, hand on flesh, watching the pulse in Myra’s thighs. The first moan slipped free, soft and quick. Cory paused, stunned. Myra glanced over her shoulder, lips parted, eyes dark. She asked for another with the tilt of her hips. The next smack landed slower, the sting blooming while both of them listened to the wet sound Myra’s thighs made when they brushed together. Cory kept going, every strike firm, every sound louder, until her stepdaughter was trembling, breathy, and clearly wanting more.