Sunday, 5th April 2009
Most people on AOL know me as the girl who starts the risque-sounding chat rooms, with names like 'CutePanties' and 'LikesNudism' and so on. And I confess a weakness for answering some pretty odd questions, especially about my panties. Someone asked me why, if I am such a lady (which I am, I really am!), I would even consider a topic of conversation like that. And the truth is that I just think it's funny. The whole topic is funny and for several reasons. One is that it's irrelevant, because it can't possibly matter what panties I have on. You can ask about my panties and I will tell you the truth, but you'll never get to see either the panties themselves or me in them. So why do you really need to know?
This leads to another reason. Many men online say inanely irrelevant things like, 'I wish I were there now to see you.' Now this is just silly-- if you were here now, I would NOT be lounging round in my panties. You would be a guest and we would be down stairs in the parlour having tea, or iced tea, and quite fully dressed whilst conversing about much more polite topics than my panties in order to actually get to know each other as people. So, once again, whatever panties I have got on is irrelevant.
And the third reason I can think of why the topic is funny is just because it really is funny. Panties really are pretty funny when you think for a moment. For one thing, they're not plural, they're singular. (Bras are plural... right?) It's just a piece of fabric folded up and sewn at the sides, with two holes cut out and elastic fitted round the top. By itself a pair of panties is just a funny-looking little garment that only people built a certain way (let's call them 'women') can properly wear. The sad part of this is that some people go absolutely obsessive over them. I have seen whole chat rooms dedicated to the proposition that women might actually SELL their panties to desperate men who want to smell them. This is either distressingly sad or just plain gross. I have never had the idea of doing that myself (with men's undershorts, since I am a woman), but if I were so curious about the scent of a man I would prefer to smell the man himself and not just his undershorts, if you know what I mean.
Now that I am fully on the subject I will tell about my day. Today was Palm Sunday and we attended at 10.00 and received our palms and then all sort of subtly batted each other in the face, or chin, or neck with them as we stood in the pew and sang 'All Glory, Laud, And Honour' and so on. Sometimes I leaned the palm way over, round behind Jessy, and was able to tickle Mother or little Lisa with it. Daddy started it, of course-- he used to tease us with the palms all the time when we were little. The truth is we all do it to each other now. It's not to be rude or irreverent but just a kind of family tradition.
I wore my pale grey wool dress with the boat neck and the pale pink and yellow and blue stripes in it, with white tights and my dark-grey shoes. I ordinarily love the Palm Sunday service, in spite of its length (the longest scheduled service of the church year), but I was profoundly uncomfortable the entire time-- and I really mean the entire time, from when I first knelt down to when I finally got to the ladies' room during coffee hour. The reason was because my panties were up in my bottom the whole time.
I didn't do anything unusual to make this happen, though I have figured out why it did happen. The tights fit more tightly than the panties did. Usually you would hope that the panties are closer-fitting. If the tights were looser they wouldn't be able to alter the fit of the panties. But when it's the other way round it's obnoxiously uncomfortable. I stood there, singing, praying, greeting people, ever so subtly trying to wiggle myself just a little to work them loose. When we knelt I kept trying to tug at myself-- but the pews are not high and a young family with a nosy little girl were right behind us and I wasn't going to make myself any more obvious. It was fortunate I had worn a slip, for the dress is wool and would cling to my legs, especially with the cotton-blend tights on, so I know nothing looked wrong to anyone else's eyes. I just suffered through the service and hurried off to the ladies' straight away.
The little grey cotton panties were hardly new-- I'd had them since August and have worn them often. They were just plain cheap cottons that you find in the three-for-seven-dollars bins in the stores. And they were pretty well stretched-out from normal wear and washing by now. In the ladies' at church I had a couple of options and one of them was to throw the panties into the dustbin and to rely on just the tights till I got home. That would not have been terrible at all and under normal circumstances that's what I would have done... but the tights are white and this week I need all the protection I can get. So I adjusted them the best I could and when I pulled up the tights I left them a little loose and was able to make it home when I could get changed.
It's only occurred to me now that someone in one of those chat rooms might have liked to buy those panties from me, since I certainly won't be wearing them any more. But, oh, well-- they're already gone. If anyone out there may be interested for next time, make me a cash offer now and I'll try to remember to stuff them in an envelope and post them out to you.
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1 comment:
Sick, I guess its okay not to care what people think, but there are weirdos and creeps, remember Dateline: To catch a Predator. I could not believe some of those folks. The internet kinda sucks.
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