Cream Coloured Panties

So eager to divest ourselves of our outer garments (you down now to your smalls me to my nothing at alls) we can’t recall how any or all of our underwear came to be here and there or there & here the bell buzzing us into panic mother-in-law visiting to see how we are coping casting a critical eye on our new abode and to our amazed delight winning her zeal of approval. “You’ve made it a home! ” she pronounces in a silk purse from a sow’s ear tone. All goes well until being gentlemanly I go to give her money for her taxi fare pull out wallet & your cream coloured crumpled panties (hastily stuffed into pocket in panic) spills at her horrified feet sexily lingering over the tips of her toes still attempting to be civil (she looks at me as if I were the Devil) & simply ignoring what’s happening kicks them aside as if they hadn’t ever existed they land on the cat who runs ‘round the flat panties on his back she leaves in a huff without another word the door slamming behind her as we flower into helpless laughter.