Rate this story When I was young, I had a downstairs bed-room all by myself. My bathroom was down the hall adjacent to the laundry room. A small florescent light was always left on in the laundry room so I could find my way to the bathroom at night. Often when I would make my way to the bathroom, I would stop and admire and feel the panties that my mom had hung to dry on the drying rack. She had many different colors, white, blue, pink, and ivory. She also had some green and yellow ones that...
