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06.18.03 - 11:42 p.m. so heres the thing about underwear: i have this skirt. and, in addition to that skirt i have this ass that is so so flat. in order to wear this skirt AND look hot, i feel, i have to have the proper undergarments. And already, the words "proper undergarments" tells you everything. They are white and old old school. They MAY have been my mothers but i dont remember...they have been in the family for ages. But you know...you stick with what works and ive stuck with these. And theyre just so big, and white as ive mentioned and big and white is never ever good. So im chilling in this skirt, with my proper undergarments (PU), and jimmy lets me know that i "know im hot but try to pretend that i dont." I smile like a good southern girl, with the requisite blush and lowered head and my PU's are doing ALL the work. I think of telling him about it and decide against it. And heres the rub, literally. The PU can be your ace in the hole. Its that lift in your ass that brings that boy into work to ask you over to his place. Although youre not sure what might happen the fact that the PU's, which have scored you this far, are now the one thing holding you back. Your PU is a bit like your mom in that way; you appreciate her taking you to the movies but once youre there you want her out of sight asap. You cuss yourself for not keeping a thong in your glove compartment, you think that might be a good idea, you wonder if it might get you out of a ticket someday.."Oops officer, did i hand you my thong instead?" and hes waiting there for you to answer and he thinks your thinking it over but what youre really wondering is if you might be able to excuse yourself at that crucial time so that you can extract yourself from the PU but dispose of it in a way so that you can find it again, quickly, because after all its your ace in the hole, so to speak. You also wonder if the fact that youre now wearing nothing under that skirt with the great ass might tell more than you want to for the first potential hook up. Hes still waiting. And youre laying there and its that awful tension that youre still too wussy to initiate the dissipation of, and youre head to head and maybe there is some sexed out rapper in the background talking about going down on his girl and for some reason that makes you want nothing more. And someone is going to kiss someone because the other option is leaving and thats unbearable. Youre day at work was horrendous after all and so was his and youre pretty sure that you can make things better for each other. And youre thinking and hes thinking and your both conscious of your swallowing and of your stomach noises because your bodies are so ready to meet each other but your head is weighing this and that and this and that and so is his. And then, its happening because it had to and, god, finally and it starts to get really good, and yes, you are starting to feel better and wow, he has great arms which youve never really noticed and youre all wrapped up already...and then... You remember the PU. The fucking PU. Fuck. "Whats wrong?" "Nothing" and youre off again but what he doesnt know is that youre terrfied that hes going to lift up and take off his shirt and since your great skirt is around your waist now there is just NO WAY hes not going to notice the whities. And there is NO WAY that hes NOT going to think to himself for at least a moment, "Good God! WHAT in the hell are THOSE?" And he'll get over it because there are much more important things to be seen but the embarrassment of your PU has you nearly crippled. Nearly. Dammit. Dammit. "What is it?" and its nothing really and its not enough to stop you, and its certainly not enough to stop him and you DO appreciate them and they ARE a family heirloom and they ARE still shaping your ass, which is deep into his mattress, into an attractive curve. But, God, your wishing for your thong, you just really are. Dammit. In all honesty, the way he held me made me feel like there was nothing in the world that he wanted more. It was nice for a change. It was nice. So here's to you PU, for getting me through the door. � 
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