What Skimpy Scanties Mean

I found this post at Annie’s Blog, and just had to share it with you all.

It’s the second half of her post which is most intriguing. It starts with this image of ladies’ panties on a clothes line with the line “Positive proof of global warming.” Yet what her post really reveals is now less is not necessarily more:

The Global Warming reference aside (not that it is at all unimportant, just not the purpose of this post), is that revealing everything right up front (or rear, depending on one’s… um, special interest) is a lot less fun, a lot less sweet, than engaging our imaginations about that which is unrevealed. It removes the anticipation, the journey being more often than not more exciting than the destination. Like the hapless woman in my dad’s story, it’s unlikely that anyone really was that hot to view her particular cooter, it was the unwitting tease and suggestion that they MIGHT get to experience the forbidden and they were, as a result, rapt.

Since we don’t have (human) kids, nudity is not an issue in our home and we’re probably more often naked than clothed – an easy comfort thing and after almost 24 years of marriage, assuredly non-sexual. To turn each other on, we get dressed. (I think there’s a Phyllis Diller/Rodney Dangerfield routine there.) At play time, it is a very rare occasion when we start out naked and deny ourselves the sport of ultimately getting that way. The anticipation, the tease, the symbolic conquest is so much a part of the turn-on and foreplay. (And for some reason, I feel much more vulnerable being otherwise fully clothed with only my breasts revealed or my pants taken down than I do being entirely naked. Is it just me?) On the spectrum of the panties above, I find the drawers of the 18th century to be considerably more sexy and provocative than the string of 2006 and I betcha I’m not alone. Actually, I know I’m not. Robert has never requested that I wear a thong for play but frequently sets out the drawers (of course, that may be more a statement of the attractiveness of my aged ass, but I’m not gonna go there. Some questions should never be asked).

It seems to me we’re going the wrong direction if our goal is to be ever more sexy.

I, of course, couldn’t agree more.

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