“I’m going to start a business,” I announced.
There was no reply.
“Mom,” I said loudly. “Did you hear me? I’m going to start a business.” This time, Meredith managed to lift her head and stare at me with bleary eyes.
“Sounds great, baby. What kind of business?”
I joined her at the table before taking a bite of my peanut butter sandwich.
“Katie.” My mom leaned forward, her eyes bright. “What kind of business?” she repeated, forcing herself out of her stupor.
I sighed. “Well, the idea is that I start this website where I’ll sell my panties – used.”
My mother furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, her head slightly tilted to the side. “What? Why would you do that? Who would even buy that?”
“I’ve done my research, and it’s a pretty lucrative market. Apparently, there are a bunch of guys who are willing to drop cash on used panties. I figure it’s an easy enough niche to get into.”
Most moms would recoil with horror and shock, and tell you to stop this nonsense immediately. But not Meredith. Instead, her face broke out into a wide smile.
“Hell yeah, Katie Kat, make that money any way that you can, girl!” She hiccupped. “But wait until you’re eighteen so that none of the pervs who buy your used panties get into trouble for buying something like that from an underage girl.”
“Exactly,” I agreed with a nod. My mom and I were on the same wavelength for once. And so with my mother’s blessing and ‘wise words’ of advice, I set up my website and got everything prepared. Then on my birthday, all I had to do was click a few buttons, and my online business was up and running.
Now, it’s booming.
Seriously.
Who knew there was such a demand for used panties?
I stretch and put down my tea before getting up. Well, time to make another listing. I walk over to my drawer and sort through my lingerie. Red is my best seller so far, but I have yet to try an animal print. Maybe men are into cheetahs or leopards? It’s worth a shot.
With a thong in hand, I step into the bathroom and undress. Slowly, I hook my thumbs around the waistband and hike the underwear along my legs. The triangle of fabric settles on my mound, fitting me perfectly. I adjust the straps so that they rest on my hips.
Once I think everything is up to par, I move in front of the mirror just to make sure. I grin at my own reflection. I’ve never been one of those skinny minis, and honestly, I never want to be. I rather like the way I look. Curvy. The kind of girl with a lot to hold onto, if you know what I mean.
I turn around. The thong disappears between my ass cheeks. Oh, the guys are going to love this.
The grin on my face deepens.
I turn on the beauty lights that surround my bathroom. Then I grab my camera and start to line up the shot. I have to be careful about this because I don’t want my face in the picture, but everything else is fair game. So I bend over, trying to find the perfect angle to make my ass look even bigger. I twist my body, one arm draped across my chest hiding my nipples to tease the viewer.
When the photo shoot is over, I take off the panties. Ooh, this experience has me so wet, and a long string of fluid connects my pussy to the soaked crotch. Perfect. I snap another picture of the juicy nectar, and then place the panties in a velvet-lined box, and take a few more pictures. This is going to be gold. It’s dirty, I know, but men will pay astronomical prices for this kind of stuff.
Once all that’s done and over with, I head back over to my computer and plug in my camera to transfer the files. Then begins the long and tedious process of editing the pictures and uploading them onto the site.
After a while, the listing is complete, and I click ‘publish’ with an air of accomplishment.
Within minutes, I get a few hits. The first bidder wagers a measly $5, but I know the price is about to skyrocket. The next bidder bets $20. I watch the numbers rise higher and higher. Oh yeah, this is going to be a good one.
I lean back in my chair, a smirk playing on my lips.
Just then, my phone buzzes with a notification. I pick it up and see my friend’s Alice’s name on the screen. Apparently, she’s just posted something on social media.
Curious, I tap on the notification. A picture of her pops up. Alice is in a tiny room, sitting on a dirty mattress with a big smile on her face and a double thumbs up.
