Yesterdays comment about leaving my drawers on the office stairs (by accident, mind you) spurred quite a bit of confusion from the masses. So, I thought I would use this post to clarify the incident and give you a bit more information on my how I get to my daily decision to go gorilla.
Yes, on the particular day that I stupidly left my tiny bit of box covering lace on the office stairs, I had worn underwear. I feel it necessary to place a barrier between my naughty bits and pants - especially if said pants* are dress pants. Jean will chafe the Beav. It's important to be mindful of crotch placement. You might be ok when you're standing, but sitting down is a whole different issue. If you desire to ride commando, make sure you do a "test sit" first. Nothing is worse than sitting up straight in a restaurant booth and having a painful camel toe moment.
*Gym pants are exempt from this rule as I do not consider them to be real pants but an outfit that I wear to sweat in. Besides, nothing is more uncomfortable than pigeon pose in a thong. Feels like it's gonna cut you right in two.
I always go sans skivvies when I'm in a skirt. Nothing makes you feel naughtier (is that a word?) than letting the honey pot feel the breeze. Pair the outfit with thigh highs and a garter belt and you're an orgasm on a stick. Mind the weather report. If your skirt has the lift factor and you catch a stray breeze you might have a flashing incident in your future. Just ask any of the companies neighboring my office. I'm surprised I didn't get arrested last summer.
The fact that I know the underwear choice or non-choice of each guy in my office is not by choice. They share these sordid details with me. Or it is clearly obvious by the number of times they adjust themselves during the day: Low numbers = tighty-whities, Mid-numbers = boxer shorts/briefs, Boarding on masturbation = nothing but skin.
Today, I'm flying free and loose. Skirt, thigh-highs and garters. The rain and wind makes it a bit nippy, but I love me a challenge.