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  • dearabi

Cobra Commando.

I haven’t had a “first” in a looooong time, so I’m ecstatic to report that I had one in Cacun the other week.

On my last night there, I had a fancy dinner at the Italian restaurant in our resort. It was the only establishment on the resort where men actually had to wear sleeves, so I decided to wear what has become my new power dress. Cream, fitted, and knee-length. I knew it was “the one” when even my gay vacay roommate said “You look BAD in that dress”. Hollaaa.

It made my ass and thighs look amazing, andI felt like a woman in it as opposed to a 9-year old boy. The problem was, I only had a pair of granny panties and a black thong left to wear. Seeing as my dress was so tight you could see if I ate a grape in it, the granny panties were out of the question. Unfortunately, the black thong was just as noticeable.

I turned to my gay with an exasperated “WTF do I do?” face, and we both nodded in unison. I looked at myself in the mirror and put on my brave face. I knew what needed to be done: I had to go commando. I told my friend I had never done it before, and even texted my girls back home for moral support. Them bitches are allergic to underwear, so I’m sure hearing the news had them feeling like a proud mother sending her daughter off to senior prom.

It’s not that I think there’s anything wrong with going commando. I am just not too open about … leaving your shit out in the open. I can barely sleep in just a t-shirt and panties, because I’m paranoid creepy crawlers will get all up in my crevices and hatch eggs in that bitch. Fuck around and pee out a colony of ants and shit. NO. JUST NO. I’m also juicy sometimes. Take that however you want, but the last thing I want to do is sit down at dinner and leave a snail trail when I get up.

Nevertheless, fashion over function. I let my happy ass (and vagina) run free that night, and let me tell you: it was damn liberating. Despite having to check out my ass for incriminating stains, and washing up three times more than usual after I used the restroom, I felt so comfortable at times I almost forgot I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Now would I do it on a regular basis? Definitely not. But I will definitely consider it again when appropriate. At least now I know I can jam out with my clam out.


Look ma, no panty lines!


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Intimacy. Licking your brain, while massaging mine. Exploring you inside and out. Becoming one then two then one again. Feeling you. Tasting you. Loving you. Lingerie and tailored suits, sundresses an

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