by Olivia Starke
Here’s a question that has had many passionate arguments since the invention of these two male undergarments. Okay, in the olden days men’s underwear was more about function and less about…well bringing sexy back..
(Those are some crazy man panties there…)
Lucky for us, and them, men’s underwear evolved eventually to the creations we see today.
(Sorry, Tarzan in a loincloth was a given for this blog post.)
I’m not a fan of the tightey whiteys, or ‘Dad underwear’ because, well, they are requisite Dad underwear. At least for us Gen X crowd. Granted there are male models sporting the style with some success, I still can’t find myself bug eyed over them.
(Sexy guy, yet I can’t help but wonder what’s outside those blinds. Admit it, now you’re trying to see, too.)
Next we have boxers made popular by rap stars from the 90s and gentlemen who insist on wearing their britches around their ankles per the current fashion.
(He must have known my favorite color is blue!)
I guess I feel boxers are too tame. You can wear these out in public and few would be the wiser, though I admit silk ones on a ‘happy’ man can perk my interest ;;) If I were a guy, it’d bug me having my junk flap around like a broken-necked chicken, but I’m not a guy, sooo…
That takes us to boxer briefs :D These modern miracles of the styling industry are the epitome of men’s underwear. Heck, I even prefer to wear boy briefs myself, I dig them that much.
(I know we’re thinking the same thing, he has an AWESOME tan!)
Fitted yet feigning modesty, they can showcase a good package, a nice ass, and well-toned legs at the same time. I mean really, really, what’s not to like here? I know I’ve converted men in the past—okay bullied—but hey, it was for their own good.
So what’s your preference? Leave a comment with an email and one lucky US winner could win Sweets & Swag chosen via Randompicker.com!
(Coming 02/21 to Decadent Publishing’s new erotica line The Edge.)
Dating a dead guy would be complicated and complications were one thing she liked to avoid.
Samantha Perry expected a fun weekend in Vegas, what she didn’t expect is the hottie she wakes up next to after a wild night of drinking. Tall, blue-eyed, and all American, Jake is the epitome of male virility—give or take the fact he lacks a heartbeat. But sometimes even the living impaired need a little lovin’
And Jake has one hell of a surprise in store for Samantha…
Some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed, especially if you wake up with a corpse.
Her new companion had been the most watched man in the club, and Samantha Perry couldn’t help the sense of conquest as they stumbled into her hotel room. The room swayed and she had to clutch his shirt to stay on her feet.
“Watch out, baby,” he said in a deep husky voice against her ear. “I think you’re a little drunk.”
She giggled. “You try walking in four inch stilettos. I can barely manage these on the best of days.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough, but damn they’re sexy.”
Her hair clung around her shoulders, her blouse and jeans still damp. “I’m wet. How did I get so wet?” Her foggy memory offered no explanations.
“Such open ended questions you ask.” He captured her lips in a hot distracting kiss. “So many answers I could give.”
He tugged the blouse over her head, pitched it aside, and placed his hands on her shoulders giving a gentle shove. She squealed, but luckily bounced, the bed breaking her fall.
She studied him, well tried to as her focus was a little off. “So what was it you were saying earlier, about the living dead something or other?”
He tugged her jeans off and tossed them over his shoulder, drawing out yet another giggle from Samantha.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “You mean living while dead? We’ll need to have this discussion, but later.” He kissed her deeply once more. “And I mean much,much, later.”