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My name got picked again, this time by Bob. Me bad and embarrassed when I blurted, “Oh shit!” that he got my name. He’s a real sweet but wimply dude and reminds me of a toad. Him and all his friends couldn’t have gotten my panties off unless I let them.
The black leather thong I wore said a size small although I should wear a medium. Very snug and extremely difficult to get on and off without a certain amount of wiggling and tugging. I might add that since I tend to sweat and secrete other juices while being chased down and de-pantied, the thong exuded a substantial aroma. Also, it’s not like you can do the washer/dryer thing on leather.
First, Bob couldn’t catch me so I had to like slow down. Then when he finally grabbed me he couldn’t wrestle me down. “Geez mawn, what, do I have to help you rape me?” I muttered under my breath.
I let Bob get me down and on my back and he lifted my skirt up. He started tugging on my tight thong but didn’t make much progress. OK, so I helped him a little and he got so embarrassed and flustered it was kinda cute.
“Here, let me help you,” I offered as I took his hand and put it inside the thong right on my snatch. Bob like jumped and everybody roared when I said, “It don’t bite, honey.”
When Bob finally got my thong off he whooped it up like he just scored a touchdown. I think he did that mostly for the benefit of the camera. We taped all the episodes.
The funniest part of all this became watching the other participants. Lisa obviously had played hard to get before. She screamed, “No, no, no!” as Slut Boy struggled with removing her white 100% cotton high-cut brief. But when he got them off, she stared incredulously and barked, “Is that all you want?”
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