There is a man in formal clothes. This could almost be the 1870's; that era. He is wearing a derby hat, and he has an old-fashioned mustache. He is in a vested suit. I am wearing a very ornate dress with lots and lots of petticoats. I am on my knees in front of him, the swirl of petticoats making it hard to balance. He makes me get down on my hands and knees, but the bulky dress is getting in my way. I move forward but somehow I can't get as close to him as I would like.

He looks indignant. He looks almost insulted. Finally I put my hands on his crotch. I feel the texture of his pants. My fingernails are painted black, and I wonder if I've done this because his pants are also black. I am afraid to unzip his fly. I wait to be asked. I am fretting that he won't ask me. I am a disgraceful girl to be on my knees like this. It simply isn't done in this day and age. I should not have transported myself so far back in time, I think!

"What kind of a girl is this?" somebody says, a voice of outrage, an old British voice like a barrister.

Someone is pushing up my petticoats with his cane, the way you would poke around in the bushes looking for a stray dog. The cane pushes my petticoats up, pushes again and again until they finally stay up, exposing me. I am wearing almost see-through white nylon panties. They have no lace. They are very modern. This is confusing, if I am in the 1870's!
Somehow I want to show that I am excited and able to exude feminine moisture. Very quickly, as if I am urinating through my anus, I have made the back of my panties wet enough to see through! The entire crack of my backside can be seen, the wet panties have molded to my cheeks and are almost invisible. And I look exactly like a girl.

My panties are being yanked down, and I lift one leg, then the other, so they can be removed entirely. My audacity is such that I am confident that nobody can detect me! Somehow I must have grabbed myself, pulling my penis and scrotum forward, and the man behind me can't see anything! All he sees is an inviting hole.

He puts his finger in it and begins to stir around and around. My hole is like a vagina, it is very wet and pliable. He can put two fingers in. I am still touching the man's crotch in front of me, wanting so much to unzip his pants. Meanwhile, this other man, who is perhaps his partner, or his servant, or yes even his lawyer, he continues to move his two fingers in and out, appraising my moistness.

And now, he holds my sopping panties in his hand. They are slippery, wet, limp, droopy and white. They are so wet they glisten. He pushes a bit of my panties into my hole. He mutters something, and puts in a bit more, and a bit more. I want him to keep doing it. I want him to see I am as wet as a slut, that I can take it in, all of it.

He keeps sliding more and more into my hole. At last, only a small bit of my panties protrudes. I like this, because all you see is that I have a willing hole, and ripe fanny cheeks, and that I am such an incorrigible slut.

I begin to crawl along on my hands and knees.

"This is a rude girl!" the man says. He has that same voice of outrage and astonishment. My legs are lovely, white and slim. The petticoats bunch around my moon-shaped bottom, as pretty as petals around a flower. And lewdly hanging from between my legs are my own panties. I have somehow let them wiggle out a bit, and they hang halfway between my legs. I wiggle to make them sway. My hole feels very gooey and I am so aroused, I hope that the man will put the panties all the way inside me. Or take them out and take me. The panties are so gooey...moaning softly, I tuck my panties inside myself using the tip of one finger.

My rectum swallows the white fabric up and closes, pretty and pink and tight. I hope that this pleases the man who is watching.

But now I am by myself. Like a woman about to dine, arranging her napkin, I am squatting, and pulling the panties out from my anus, and now arranging the panties between my legs. I pull them up a bit. I tamp my panties into my hole, tuck them in, and judge the length of what is sticking out. Almost as if I am judging how high the hem should be on my slip.
The panties are dry now, and they just stick out of my hole, from between my pert buttocks, sort of like a paper tissue in a dispenser. It's as if you could walk by, and whisk it right out from my bottom, light and airy and feathery.