Individually Wrappped Items and Irresponsible Responsible Adults

Today a conversation came up about underwear. It was decided black underwear are either racy or very plain. I primarily wear black underwear. You decide what kind.

I do go mad for smalls. I love bras most of all, but mine are too expensive for me to get lots. This leads me nicely to knickers. Frenchies are very sexy; sitting wrapped around you, made of material with lots of little holes, like a classy peep show. Thongs. Not everyone can pull off a thong, but being able to grab and them in your mouth is nothing if not a turn on. Then there are frillies; under a pair of jeans and a baggy tee, there are few things as good as pulling it off to find racy red frilly undies. Something so unexpected, yet so sexy. At the other end of the scale there's boy pants (whether they're actually made for guys or just girls boxers) although not directly sexy, are still a hot look because legs and ass is guaranteed to look good. Not to forget the classic brief. It's like blue jeans and a tight, white tshirt. You can't go wrong with classic.

At the end of all that, underwear are like Cadbury's Roses. It doesn't matter how pretty and shiny the wrapper is, you want the good stuff inside.

Back to two actual events, both of which happened yesterday. The first is that a teaching assistant asked me out for coffee. That's not... right. That's like sleeping with your boss (don't say it). He knows that, I'm sure. Now don't get me wrong, he's a perfectly nice guy and he wasn't making a move (I don't think), but it still begs the question where have all the responsible adults gone? The boss is clearly not a good example, my economics teacher spends more time staring down my top than teaching (it got me a good report) and now this. Men are clearly driven purely by hormones. This is proof enough for me.

The second item of importance is that I wore a backless top. It was sunny and Sara and I had a couple of frees together (lessons got cancelled etc). I was lying on my front trying to work (note the word "trying") and Sara came up behind me, played with my hair, and kissed my neck. Her mouth moved down, her fingers playing with the back of bra. Her tongue was spreading across my spine and her breath blowing cold making me shiver. Wrapped her lips around my shoulder blade, I could feel her teeth. Now you understand why I was trying to work and not actually working.

Sara must learn to choose a more appropriate setting. Like someplace dark where people aren't paying attention to us. Like a cinema. My hand creeping across and running up her thigh. Lips joining silently and tongues dancing without a sound. Her hand cups my face, mine run through her hair. Getting closer, sinking into the kiss. Coming up for air; credits are rolling. How was the film?

P.S. Let me give you a clue to the black underwear. Sara thinks I look hot in them.