Everybody has some type of clothing that they feel like boosts their attractiveness a bit. When I want to feel like I’m looking good, I always go to the wife-beaters. I have good sized shoulders and a small waist, so its a pretty good look for me. Plus, I like them because they are comfortable. That’s a big thing for me with clothes. I will go for comfort over style any day. (Which is actually good thing since my sense of style is questionable).
Among my favorite comfort clothes are sweat pants. When the weather is too cool to wear shorts, that is pretty much what I will wear all weekend. It’s what I’m wearing right now. Except these are not my regular sweats with the drawstring waist and elastic leg holes. These are a Christmas gift (along with a matching zip up jacket) from RJ who told me I look like white trash in my normal baggy sweats.
These are made of a material that makes them more fitted and the legs are flat at the bottom like normal pants instead of elastic. He says they are not “sweats,” but “track pants.” I say they are “magic britches.”
So, call me Aphrodite.
She was the one in the Greek myths that had a magic girdle that brought all the boys in the yard.
I’ve worn my new britches, er…track pants… three times so far. And from what I can tell they seem to be cut from the same cloth as Aphrodite’s girdle.
Just ask the fella at the gas station who kept peeking an eye around the pump to watch me leaning back on the side of my truck even though he finished filling his tank long before I finished mine.
I don’t normally wear underpants when I’m wearing sweats. Not to show off (although I admit to exhibitionist tendencies), but just because I just love the feel of the fabric up against my bits. Sweatshirt material feels like is was woven for the specific purpose of caressing your junk. And the track pants material feels real good, too.
In fact, in some ways it’s nicer because I’ve got more support than in sweats. In sweat pants I’m usually banging around like a bell clapper on Christmas morning. But these track pants hold everything in place…in bulk. Which probably explains why the greeter at Sam’s Club was more interested in my britches than my club card when I was in there the other day. Sam’s Club is all about bulk.
You probably think I like these pants because i want people check out my package. Not true. Even though I’m an exhibitionist, I’m really sort of a backwards exhibitionist. I don’t make it a point to advertise the show, but if somebody happens to catch it, I’ll let them watch as long as they want.
Besides, the magic in these britches is not what they do up front. It’s what happens in the rear. I don’t think Houdini, Harry Potter, and Samantha from “Bewitched” combined could make it look like I have a nice butt the way these pants do.
They’re like the Wonder Bra of pants. Wonder Britches. I’m not going to lie. I don’t have much ass, but I couldn’t stop twisting and turning in the mirror the first time I put them on.
And it was kind of new and exciting to get cruised by a cyclist on a walking/bike trail today. Because he came up from behind. He was already checking me out before he passed me. The stuff up front was just gravy. And the gravy is a good thing if for no other reason than it makes sure he understands that despite what the pants may tell him, I’m not a bottom.
Yep. There’s very powerful magic in these pants. But with great power comes great responsibility. If i was to wear these pants and a wife-beater at the same time, I might just be branded a witch. But then, sometimes a witch might enjoy being hunted.