The pretty redhead with the deep green eyes saw the multicolored box right out on the table in the outdoor market out of the corner of her eyes and it drew her attention like a magnet to true North.

She pretended to be looking at something entirely different because she didn’t want the old man with the hooked nose to think she was interested in the strange item sitting out all alone on a large table with no other items closer than an arm’s length away. She looked closely at an egg-beater that she had absolutely no interest in at all.

The old man wasn’t fooled.

He knew his clientele and he knew the red haired girl would be shifting her pretty green eyes to the box soon enough.

Sure enough, Misty was unable to restrain her curiosity any longer. She edged closer to the colorful box and read the words across the top that said with no uncertain confusion, “Magic Undies for Young Maids in Need of Manly Attentions”.

She blushed just thinking about someone watching her merely reading the words and their opinion of her interest in such a subject. She squinted slightly to read the small print because it had been almost three years since she had her eyes tested for new glasses. Besides, she was so comfortable with her old glasses that she hated to part with them and no tradesman wanted to just sell the glass anymore and put the lenses in the old frames.

The side of the box showed no less than seven pairs of young ladies tights decorated on the edges with a hand stitched lace that made them seem more unique than the simple white cotton things that had nothing sexy about them at all.

This box contained seven different colors of undies all marked with a day of the week and she supposed that one would have to wear the correct pair on the right day in order to be orderly about covering her smoldering passion.

She had been concerned lately because some thief had been stealing her dirty panties from her wash basket before she could attend to the washing and she thought it very odd for some person to be so interested in her dirty undies because they usually smelled quite ripe if she had been running or exercising to get in shape for a cross-country run.

The days of the week were in old style writing with swirls and curls around all the letters.

They were clearly marked on the end as being her exact size and she couldn’t find any fault with any of the seven colors picked for the weekly selection of bum covering fabric. They were described as “pure 100% silk from the Orient, with lace hand-sewn by cloistered nuns in the Abbey of Saint Joan in France.”

The picture of a huge man that looked a bit like one of those Middle Eastern Magicians was shown in the corner saying,

“These garments when worn by a nubile female with an urge to find her joyful ending will attract and keep the attentions of the first male that gets close enough to see the writing of the day of the week on the front or back. Warning: It must be on the correct day or there will be unintended consequences.”

“Tell me, sir, how much do you want for these women’s undies?”

The old man came close.

In fact, he came so close that he could inhale the scent of Misty’s special womanhood waiting patiently for some male to introduce her to the rigors of spirited coupling that she was most desirous of finding at the earliest opportunity.

He knew right away he had the right customer for the Magic Knickers.

Misty didn’t hesitate to go into the private fitting room and remove her smiley face panties in favor of the supposed Magical Knickers with the little cartoon eye right over her twat that winked and said, “No peeking, please!”

Of course, the old man had a nice little spot for him to watch all the girls getting in and out of their clothes and he kept his hand down low working away on his almost hopeless cause of a proper erection at the excitement of spying on some fresh young female thing with a juicy cunt all primed for masculine attention.

Misty had a suspicion that she was being watched, but it didn’t slow her down at all. She dropped her drawers so fast that her heart was beating like a drum at a circus.

It was sort of a ritual for her at such times to bend over and straighten her short socks and point her pretty bottom in all directions so any hidden watchers could appreciation the beauty of her nubile girl curves.

As soon as the magical knickers were fitted tightly to her heart-shaped buttocks and resting snugly over her patiently waiting cunt, Misty noticed that her face felt a little flushed and that her bottom half of her body was moving to the tune of a different drummer.

It was like the touch of a thousand tiny fingers in every little nook and crook of her feminine folds constantly searching for that magic spot that would trigger her satisfying orgasm just thinking about the possibility of being forced to “do it” without any other option.

She really enjoyed the having to do it without any say in the matter because that meant she was not as guilty as one of those girls that did the dirty deed because they liked getting a guy’s salami buried nice in deep in one of their needy holes.

“Bend over, bitch!”

Misty looked around but didn’t see anyone.

It must have been one of those invisible imps that hounded her every now and then and it looked like one of them was attracted to the new magical knickers.