One day, one glorious day we might be seeing this everywhere...
Recently I have gotten some great emails, and one question that came up in them was to do with why I find men in lingerie attractive. What is it about these men in panties that keeps me coming back and writing more about them, perhaps one could say, long after the point has perhaps been made? It is a goodly question, and I shall attempt to answer it here. I can only speak for myself of course, but I am sure there are others who feel the same way, that tends to be the way the human animal works.
The Attraction of Men In Lingerie
Good news chaps! There are ways that you can wear skirts and dresses in public... you just need to follow these tips...
Skirts and Dresses For Men
(By the way, if you like the message in this or any of my other articles, feel free to submit it to Digg, or Stumble, or post the link of the article or site to other sites or message boards or other places you feel might be interested in this sort of thing. Getting the word out there is half the battle.)
Mesh lingerie is one of my favorite kinds of lingerie, probably because its a little bit naughty, but yet can be combined effortlessly with other fabrics to create an effect that is sexy, but not too raunchy. Mesh, is of course, a see through material, which means that it is perfect for highlighting aspects of one's anatomy, or for hinting at them in a saucy visual tease.
Many women whose husbands or boyfriends reveal that they like to wear lingerie have a deep fear, an unspoken fear, a fear that torments them whilst they watch romantic comedies and weep slightly as the oh so masculine heroes of stage and screen perform in suitably male attire (unless its one of those European heritage films, in which case its likely that the men are wearing more lace and make up than the women, but that's a topic for another day.)
I answer this pressing question...
We always let religions get away with having all the fun making up rules by which we should live our lives. If we let our lingerie guide us, war would be much less likely, but smooth silky fun levels would be guaranteed to increase 800% (according to the analysts I keep chained in my basement for just such occasions.)
Read the Lingerie Commandments...
Let's go old school with these sensual pieces of our lingerie history and heritage. If you're a fan of hosiery and you don't own any vintage nylons yet, you don't know what you're missing. The thrill of history combined with the sensuality of some of the earliest nylon ever produced...
Authentic Vintage Nylons
I have a new blag! It's all about fashion, and if you like these articles, you should read it, because I continue to yammer on about various styles of clothing, some of which might appeal to you... you might even learn something. Because I'm full of facts. True facts.
Fashion or Die
Though nylon might originally have been developed by American scientists as a material with which to invisibly lasso the moon and really freak out the Russians during the Cold War, it has now found a much more sensual and perhaps even practical purpose in nylon panties.
Now there's a title that's almost so stupid I wouldn't have written on it if it weren't for the fact that it's sometimes the apparently stupid, simple things in life that trip us up. I also know that many men who want to wear lingerie feel overwhelming senses of guilt about it, even to the point where their self esteem is affected.
Is it wrong?
Many men are attracted to women's pantyhose, an item of women's lingerie not typically known by women for its glamor, (at least in my associations anyway, which are to do with school uniforms, dinner ladies, and okay, maybe the occasional pretty secretary). The grass is always greener on the other side though isn't it? Especially when the other side is permitted to express themselves with sheer and svelte fabrics, pretty colors, and displays of general emotion with are forbidden for a man.
More about the pantyhose...
This is a five part series on love and relationships, written for men who like to wear lingerie, but also like to have relationships with women. Links to all five parts are laid out below, though really you'll probably want to start at the beginning and go on until you reach the end. That's usually the way we do things around here.
The Nature of Love
Stop Wearing Lingerie?
She Says Yes To Lingerie
What Are Your Intentions?
She's Lost Respect For Me In Lingerie
Part Four of Silver's Detective Agency is out...
(Yes, Jack has his own little site now. I thought it a better idea to split the story off than let it take over the blog entirely. The panties need room to breathe, you know.)
Silver's Detective Agency
By Hope Alexander
Part Three - In which the panty thief is encountered, and a trap is set...
The first stop on the panty thief's trail was at Boinkwell's Fine Art Gallery, a gauche institution selling the type of pieces that might have been created by a small child on acid. It was a cloudy day outside, but as I entered the galley I donned a pair of sunglasses to shield my eyes from the bright neons and otherwise clashing hues that assailed them from all angles.
I suppose I appeared rather drab in that light place, a fedora propped at a rakish angle atop my head, and classic long line trench coat svelte against my body, hiding the bulk of it from the prying eyes of the world, revealing only a pair of highly polished high heeled patent leather boots which click clacked pleasingly on the gallery's parquet floors.
I had barely stepped in the door when, like a harpy, Miss Boinkwell was on me in an instant. She seemed to simply melt out of one of the installations, a lithe vibrant creature suddenly embracing me and kissing my cheeks effusively.
“Jack! Darling! How are you!” she chirped.
“Hello Sarah dear,” I replied, taking her hands in mine and stepping back to admire her. She was wearing a lovely green indie dress, cinched around the waist and flowing out in soft pleats to her knees, a matching pair of pumps adorned her feet, the entire outfit making her look absolutely stunning. A string of beads hung around her neck, further heightening the bohemian feel. How she could dress herself so well and yet sell the rubbish that hung on every wall of that gallery I do not pretend to know.
“What brings you here, Jack?” she gave me a bright smile as I admired her.
“Art, dear. I am looking for a new piece for the bedroom,” I lied.
Her smile brightened further, and dropping one of my hands, she used the other to begin leading me around the cacophony of garishness that was her gallery.
You might be wondering why I didn't just slap the ol' cuffs on here there and then and call it a day. Well you see friends, there's this little thing called proof, and I lacked it. As much as I was aware of her heinous crimes against lingerie, I had to catch her in the act.
“You know, it's awfully hard to tell what these pieces would look in my home.” I said, trying not to regurgitate lunch as I pretended to admire what appeared to be a mud spattered canvas covered with orange stripes.
“Perhaps you could bring a few pieces over to my place some time and I could see which ones work best with my décor?” I suggested, fixing her with a winning crimson lipped smile.
She practically melted there on the gallery floor. Little sissy Sarah had quite the crush on me, so it seemed.
“Of course,” she twittered.
“Lovely, you're a darling,” I drawled, winking.
She giggled and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt with her free hand. “I could come over tonight?” she suggested.
“Perfect.” I murmured, drawing her close and kissing her cheek.
The die was cast.