The Panty Whisperer: The Complete Series Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Note from Author

  Volume 1

  Intro

  Jessica Moore

  Volume 2

  Holly Jackson

  Volume 3

  Hannah Smithee

  Volume 4

  Olivia Roth

  Volume 5

  Joel Hannover

  Volume 6

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Volume 7

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Other Works By Sloane

  Acknowledgements

  The Complete Series

  Sloane Howell

  The Complete Series

  Sloane Howell

  Copyright © 2016 Sloane Howell

  Content Editor: Chrissy

  Copy Editor: Spell Bound

  Cover Design: Mr. Aaron

  Stock photos courtesy of shutterstock.com, Adobe Stock, and thinkstock.com

  Fonts courtesty of dafont.com

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Sloane Howell. Please do not participate in piracy of books or other creative works.

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  WARNING: This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Please store your files wisely, away from under-aged readers.

  Joel is back! I'm sorry that it took so long for me to bring him to you. I had to think long and hard about how to approach wrapping up this series. When I published the first short story, I didn't think anyone would ever really read it. I was wrong

  I received message after message wanting more of Joel. So I wrote another five short stories as quickly as possible. I added a few characters and tried to form an overall plot in the process. I received more messages. People still wanted more.

  So I wrote a novella with a cliffhanger, because I had other projects I was working on. I soon realized that Joel was here to stay, and his story needed to be finished.

  Fast forward a year and four months after writing the first story and I noticed I'd become a far better writer. I wanted to make changes to the originals.

  I thought about it for a few days and then I couldn't help myself. I wanted everything to flow as close to a novel as possible, and it was impossible without editing the other stories. Without boring you any longer with my ramblings, here are the new and improved—hotter, funnier versions of the man they call the Panty Whisperer. I hope you enjoy…

  THE MAJORITY OF men want sex just to get off. They blow their load, roll over, and fall asleep. That's not my style. I want you to remember my face. I want you to remember every inch of me.

  And you will.

  I want to watch your eyes roll up in your head, your toes cramp up while curling under your feet, your thighs trembling around my face, begging for my stiff cock inside your hot, wet pussy.

  Every time you tease your clit, longing for your hair to be pulled, while squeezing those quivering pussy walls around your slippery fingers, you'll be wishing it was me inside of you, drilling balls deep into that aching cunt while you dig your nails into the sheets. I want to own your mind for the rest of your life.

  The thought of me will be a thirst you can't quench, a drug you can't have, an itch that can't be scratched, no matter how hard you try. Nobody will send a shock of neural ecstasy from your pulsating little cunt to the tips of your toes the way I will. Care to bet me?

  MOST PEOPLE HAVE something they're good at: math, sports, music, art. I wasn't born with some common talent. I'm a master of making women come. I don't know why, or how it happened, it's just built into my DNA. I've always been able to talk to women and get them to do whatever I want. Ever since I was a teenager, if there was a girl nobody could bed, I got there first.

  My name is Joel Hannover. Well, actually, that's a bit of a lie. Joel is my middle name. My first name is Herbert. I hate that name. It's like my parents were trying to cock block me from conception.

  I work as an accounting software consultant. It sounds fancy like I should be good with math or computers. Nothing could be further from the truth. I'm a salesman. My job, however, is perfect for my hobby. Most accounting departments are comprised of women. Women that most people think are boring or uneventful.

  I meet these women every day. Insecure, dressed conservatively, hiding their beautiful bodies behind layers of clothing, afraid a few pounds of baby weight might still show. They're ladies who work crossword puzzles, and process numbers and transactions. It's all a façade though. These women are just like any others. Sexual creatures who want to have all of their desires met and all of their needs fulfilled.

  They're practically begging for someone to explore them, to bring them out of their shell, and release the sexual tension that has saturated their entire being, afraid to break free. They get their rocks off reading erotica, watching porn, or using the shower head in a manner it was not intended for. I can't allow this. They need someone to open their mind, and release their fantasies into the wild. Someone to spread their thighs and take them to places they never knew possible, where all of their darkest fantasies reside. This is the environment where I thrive.

  Meet Jessica Moore: mid-thirties, married with two kids, unhappy.

  Fucking hot.

  She's a senior fixed asset analyst at a company that's implementing my firm's new software. She is amazingly sexy and wasting away in a bad marriage that is held together solely for the kids. We've been working together on this project for about two weeks now and have grown somewhat close.

  She cracks a smile as I walk through the door to her office. "Good morning."

  "Jessica—" I pause for a moment and eye her curvy hips and round breasts. "—you look nice." She looks hot as fuck, if I'm being honest.

  Jessica bites her lip and smiles. I want to put my cock in that beautiful mouth so badly. I have to have her. I've been observing her for the last two weeks, processing every bit of information she provides. She loves Starbucks, romantic comedies, and has an adventurous side to her that she's afraid to act on. Well, she didn't exactly say that, but like I said before, I can sense these things. It's an innate ability. "Did you have a good weekend?"

  "Completely boring, didn't do much of anything. Philip went hunting and left me with the kids. So we had a movie night on Saturday. You?"

  I can't really tell her I filmed myself banging two twenty-year-old co-eds, and then watched it while going a second round with them. "Oh, I had a movie night myself. New indie film, you wouldn't have heard of it."

  Hey, you d
idn't lie to her.

  I can't stop staring at her black, mid-length skirt hugging tight around her hips. I get the slightest peek at her tanned cleavage protruding through her low-cut red top as she reaches into the bottom of a file cabinet. She's dressed up today, and it's for me; we both know it. The first day I was here she wore mom jeans and a sweater.

  Her wavy brunette hair is pulled back into a pony tail, and her bright-blue eyes send my stomach churning in knots every time I catch a glimpse of them. It's obvious that she works out and watches her figure, but she's got these curves that send blood straight to my dick. I have to fuck this woman. No, I want to make this woman come harder than she ever has in her life, if she ever has at all. She deserves it. She works hard and is a good mother.

  I'm going to plow her so hard she wants to scream but the words won't come out. I can tell she wants it, constantly eyeing my six-foot-two frame, wondering what I'm packing in my slacks. It's not ten inches, but it gets the job done. A massive cock is overrated anyway. I'm not trying to scar her for life.

  I pull a caramel macchiato with no whipped cream out from behind my back and set it down on the desk in front of her. It's all about paying attention to details.

  "Oh my god. You're my hero. Seriously." She takes a sip. "I'm a slave to caffeine."

  "I know how it goes."

  Only my drug of choice is that yearning pussy that's heating up for me in your panties while you eye fuck the shit out of me.

  Soon.

  "So, what's on the agenda for today?" She walks back behind her desk.

  "Just a follow up consult, half a day. Make sure all the modules are functioning the way you like, and then I'm out of your hair."

  Her head drops a little and she stares down at the desk for a moment before looking back up at me. "Well, I'm taking you to lunch before you leave. On the company, if that's okay?"

  "I can't say no to a free meal." I laugh, knowing what I'll be dining on. It's under that skirt of hers. Today is a day she'll remember for the rest of her life. She just doesn't know it yet.

  Most of the morning is uneventful, working out kinks in the software. Lunch can't get here fast enough.

  "Hey, can you take a look at this? I'm not sure this menu is exactly how we'd like it." She turns back to me, then back to her screen.

  I lean over her shoulder, perching up near her ear. God, she smells amazing. I try to look at the screen, but all I can focus on is a black lace bra corralling a pair of 38D breasts. She knows exactly what she's doing, breaking out the sexy underwear for my last day here, longing for them to end up on the floor. "I think we should switch options three and four on this window."

  "Shouldn't be a problem." I don't even look at the fucking screen. My eyes are busy, working down those creamy thighs with her knees pressed together, calves running down to a pair of black heels, legs crossed at the ankles.

  I look up at the screen and try to buy myself some extra time. "Well, wait, what if we moved option two, and had a separate pop-up option for four?" I don't even know if my words made sense or not, and I can tell she doesn't care. She starts to speak and I exhale lightly across her neck.

  "Hmm, I—" Her voice cracks a little as her eyes close, the tiny hairs on her neck standing at attention from my warm breath.

  I interrupt her. "No, never mind. I think I like your idea better." I breathe into her ear as I raise my head up.

  I spy her brushing her hands across her legs and onto her knees as I walk away. She doesn't think I notice, but I do. I can't stop thinking about how wet her cunt is right now, her lips begging for my cock to drive into them. It's going to be a long lunch.

  I ride with her to the restaurant, but don't make any moves. I want to tease her as long as possible. It's a long-term investment for the eruption that will take place between her legs later, when I press the buttons in every erogenous zone in her brain. The clacking of her heels on the tile floor of the restaurant and her ass swaying back and forth in that skirt have my cock rock hard against the zipper of my pants. She knows she's driving me crazy too. Jessica thinks she might know what's coming, but there's enough uncertainty to keep her wondering if she'll merely be dreaming about fucking me when she rubs one out later.

  I pull her chair out for her, to her surprise. "Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. My mom drilled the behavior into me since I was a boy."

  "Aww. A mama's boy? I think it's sweet that she taught you to be a gentleman." She blushes.

  "Yeah, she's old school. Guys sometimes look at me funny, but it always seems to work in my favor with the ladies." I flash her a devilish grin as I sit down.

  The sexual tension is building, and for some reason seeing her wedding ring makes me want her more, as if it makes the game more of a challenge. I mean, I don't go out seeking married women, but I don't turn them down either. I didn't make any promises to anyone to remain faithful, that's their issue.

  She's staring at me with those seductive blue eyes again. Goddamn they drive me crazy. I'm a sucker for beautiful eyes. Her hair pulled back makes them pop even more. I want that red lipstick smeared all over my cock while I stare into them.

  "So, what are you having?" she asks.

  Definitely not the salad you will order. I can tell she'll order one before the words leave her mouth. It's a funny thing. Honestly, if she ordered a cheeseburger or steak it'd probably turn me on even more. I'll order something decent, but not something that will make her feel bad for ordering salad. Grilled chicken or salmon is usually the go to.

  "Oh, I think I'll have the lemon pepper chicken." I look over to see a guy tearing into a cheeseburger. Fucker. But it's a price I'm willing to pay to get inside Jessica.

  We laugh for a while, trading war stories about work, bad relationships, all the while flirting. Instinctively, I reach for the check when it comes.

  "I told you it's on the company." She shoves my hand away, but not before holding on to it an extra split second.

  "Sorry, it's a force of habit." Yeah right. I know exactly what I'm doing. She's sharp, so I'm sure she's caught on to some of the bullshit. It's still worth it, as long as I don't overdo it.

  The drive back is the longest of my life. I can see her subtly squirming in her seat, anticipating what will come next, afraid that it's going to end, and she's going to be left with nothing but her hand and a cold shower. A memory of what might have been. I smile at the thought and glance over at her.

  Don't worry, Jessica. You're going to get everything you want and then some. Just wait.

  Tension is building in my balls already as we pull into the parking garage. I'm on the verge of exploding in my pants. This is what I live for, the moments right before. All the anticipation, the sweaty palms, the stomach butterflies, my prick growing hard in my slacks, the animalistic instincts of wanting to drill the woman sitting two feet away, separated only by a console and some cup holders.

  Finally, we pull into the parking space, staring at each other momentarily before opening our doors. I pretend to be a little upset that she opened the door for herself.

  "I'm so sorry. I'm not used to the royal treatment. My husband would have been inside the building by now."

  "Well, why don't you make up for it and walk me to my car?"

  That gets a giggle out of her. It's cheesy as fuck, but she eats it up. Jessica holds out her arm to escort me, and I take it. I feel my forearm rub against her tight hard nipple and soft breast. It sends a warm sensation straight to my cock.

  The sound of her heels clacking on the concrete as we near my car has my pulse racing. I can see her biting her lip, knowing this is the moment for her. I can practically see everything she is thinking.

  Is he really going to fuck me in his car, or in the dark corner of this busy parking garage? Why did he park all the way back here anyway? Did he plan this out?

  You're goddamn right I did, Jessica.

  We approach my '67 Fastback in the corner and she gasps. I've had it since I was 17 and restored it myself
. Classic muscle cars are an aphrodisiac if there ever was one. She releases my arm to walk in front of me. Her ass is driving me wild in that skirt, I want to bite it and hear her squeal.

  "Is that a '67?"

  Jesus Christ, she knows her cars. I'm now rock hard. "Sure is."

  She's walking faster, and I match her pace as she turns to the driver's side door.

  "I have to check this out." She runs her hand down the sleek metal in the sexiest way possible.

  It's time.

  I walk up behind her and press my palm to the small of her back before smoothing it down to her ass. Her eyes close as she presses her tits up against the window, hands resting at the top of the car. I lean in close, next to her ear. "I have to check you out." My voice is a whisper as I watch people get in and out of their cars, nothing between us and them but my Mustang. "I know you want this." I whisper in her ear as I dig my fingers into her ass.

  "But, I'm married." Her words are a muttered gasp. She moans lightly as I run my hand up her skirt. She's trying to tease me. She'll find out who's in control momentarily.

  "You sure? Last chance?" I exhale in her ear, and walk my fingers up her inner-thigh.

  She won't resist anymore. "I think we both know the answer to that."

  I rub my fingers back and forth on her hot, wet panties, circling around her clit. A shudder rips through her shoulders. I whisper in her ear again while breathing down her neck. "This is what you've wanted all week, isn't it? Me, behind you, my hand up your skirt, playing with this pussy? Look at all these people. They have no idea I'm about to shove my fingers inside you."

  I lean forward and watch as she opens her eyes to see all the people in front of us who have no idea what we're doing. I can see the spark in her eyes as the heat rushes through her veins like a strong narcotic. "You've been dreaming about my fingers inside this tight little cunt, knowing you could lose your job if you get caught. But you don't care, do you? You want it too bad. You need me finger fucking this needy pussy, don't you?"