50000 and a Pantie Pervert.

I didn't expect it so quickly, but my blog hit 50,000 views last night.  The hits are coming mainly from the UK and USA, and I've given up trying to figure out why the sudden explosion of interest occurred in January and has continued ever since.

Oh well.  C'est la Vie.

Now, the bit about the pervert.

My beloved had a dig at me yesterday.  Now this is not that unusual, as she has a gentle dig at one of my many (according to her ) failings on a daily basis.
But the subject of the dig was unusual.

She sort-of accused me of being a pervert.

She told me this as we were taking down dried clothes from the clothes lines we use on the back deck.

She told me this with a curious mixture of mild annoyance and wry humour.

She told me that next time I wanted to fiddle with her used panties  I should put them back in the washing basket when I've finished with them.

I was completely gobsmacked.

A Pervert?

Moi?

Now while I may have some minor character flaws, I do not have any sort of obsession or fascination with my beloved's panties. 

With my beloved, yes. 
With her panties, no.

I may occasionally look at pictures of a certain type on the Interweb and post some nice ones in this blog, but I do not find used panties in any way attractive.

I enquired of my beloved why she thought I had a "thing"about her used panties, and she just pointed to the deck under our bedroom window.  There, lying limply in a pile, were three of her panties.  She obviously thought that I was doing something rather outrageous with her panties in our bedroom, and when I was finished with whatever unspeakable act of perversion I ws concerned with, I dropped them out of our window.

The evidence (in her eyes) was plain to see.
I was a pervert.

Just as I initiated what could well become a very heated discussion, our little dog came trotting out of the house onto the deck.

It came trotting out of the utility room.

It came trotting with one of my beloved's panties in its little mouth.

It had grabbed the edge of the panties where they stuck out of the laundry basket and pulled them out through the open weave.

It trotted over to the pile of panties under the window where it lay down and started to chew its newest acquisition.

My beloved's eyes grew round with shock and horror.  She was speechless. 

Our little doggie was a Pantie Pervert.
I have no idea why the beast has suddenly developed this fascination with my beloved's used nether garments, all I know is, I was off the hook.

I was not the pervert.

My beloved destroyed all the panties, and smacked the dog.  She's going out today to re-stock her underwear drawer. She said she just couldn't wear the other ones ever again.
I understand.

I was not the pervert.

Maybe I'd better delete those old images from my computer's hard drive. 

No sense in taking any risks.

Minimse the Risk