There are some items one might purchase by mail that you just know are going to disappoint. Remember the X-ray vision glasses and the sea monkeys they used to advertise in the back of comic books? Or was that before your time?
Anyway, I’m here to tell you that at least one ‘can that really be as cool as it looks?’ mail order item really is.
The knickers pictured above arrived at my house the day before their eventual occupant did. She asked that I not open the package – no, she demanded I not open the package – and I did not, although she heard about her attitude later on, rather sharply.
But that aside, the garment truly is everything one might imagine from the photos above. It fits exactly like that, covers exactly what it is designed and advertised to cover, and exposes just what it is designed and advertised to expose.
What the photos don’t and can’t show is the extent of embarrassment the wearer of the garment feels when finally her significant other lifts her skirt and regards her in it for the first time.
His simply pulling the girl’s everyday knickers down, bad as that is if done correctly, turns out to be very small potatoes compared to the quivery scariness she feels with the exposure here.
And what’s worse, or better depending on one’s viewpoint, is that the openness, the availability, the opportunity presented is so complete and utter that by my reckoning it’s even greater than if she were completely naked.
This really is a lovely bit of stuff, these panties. Apart from the obvious deficiencies, this is a pure, unadulterated, fine ladies’ foundation garment, circa 1965. (That’s quite a while before the particular wearer of whom I speak was born, by the way.)
The garment is thick without being stiff, and rolls down and off with a minimum of effort, although a bit of tugging and adjusting is necessary to pull it on. I just remembered a piece of advice I overheard once in the late 60s regarding such items – talcum powder.
But as far as what one does with, to, or about a girl who has this bit of lingerie on, there really is no limit except one’s imagination.
I will mention that whatever one gets up to, one being the doer to rather than the wearer of, the party of the second part would really, truly rather not be facing him when he does it.
Being thus much open at the back is bad enough, but to be stood before one and regarded by one, let alone touched by one, in such a covered and yet uncovered state at the front is barely bearable. I know this to be true, and I expect someone is blushing to read it even now.
Of course the opening at the back is quite useful for spanking, and delightful as it is to pull down a girl’s panties for that exercise, this is the ultimate in convenience – most of the pertinent area already being quite delightfully bare.
(I think I mentioned elsewhere that this garment is the anti-thong.)
True, the outer portion of the spank spot is covered in layers of Lycra and satin and who knows what else, but I doubt that matters much since one can concentrate his spanks right where they really register.
Then too, the behind is snugged in, pulled together, so that all the tender plumpness is squeezed tightly, available for one’s ministrations, all the nerve endings set on high alert and ready to shoot sting signals straight to a girl’s cerebral cortex.
As far as what one might get up to apart from spanking his girl whilst she has on this happy garment, I think I needn’t delve too deeply into that subject.
It is hard, I know, in the heat of the moment, understanding where to halt on that slippery slope toward error, and avoid the tight squeeze that leads to fault.
But if one can just put his finger on the right path or paths, and push all the correct buttons, one will be rewarded with righteous delight beyond his wildest dreams. And hers.
That is all.
Devlin out.
