I fervently believe that schools ought to teach underwear as a subject. To both boys and girls.
Why? Well consider these facts.
Boys don’t get near any girl’s underwear until long after they have developed an interest in it and its occupant. They therefore have some very peculiar misconceptions about what constitutes pretty, alluring, sexy and slutty. All of these things have their place in a relationship, but getting them confused is not desirable.
For many guys the following equivalences apply for women’s underwear.
Pretty = Something pink with flowers on
Alluring = Nekkid
Sexy = Something black, preferably with stockings
Slutty = Something black and crotchless
Alright that might be an exaggeration and wild generalisation, but you know what I mean.
As for men’s underwear, a word of advice. Posing pouches with elephant’s ears are funny to your partner, briefly, about 300 milliseconds to be exact. In no way are they sexy.
So what about girls. If you’re after adolescent boys, underwear is easy, they’re so busy trying to get it off they’ll not notice it. You could wear threadbare “Brigitte Jones” knickers and they wouldn’t bat an eyelid.
However when in a relationship you must teach them one thing; If they insist on buying you underwear for every birthday, Valentine’s and Christmas, MAKE SURE THEY KEEP THE RECEIPT.
For any guys out there here’s why. You will probably get the wrong size, it will probably be uncomfortable and it may restrict your lady’s blood circulation so much that they risk loosing a limb.
If your man’s trainable then great but if they can only remember one thing, get them to remember the receipt.
Anyway, that was supposed to be a quick introduction to the piece I was going to write which was …
Is it just me or is there nothing like the satisfaction you get from being able to deftly unhook a woman’s bra with one hand whilst your other hand is on her thigh and your tongue’s down her throat?
It’s the surprise she expresses if you do it skilfully I think. Very rewarding. Fumbling about with two hands is sweet when you’re a kid, but the feeling of a sudden loosening of the straps and a pair of breasts spilling forth, unleashed so to speak does take some beating.