I absolutely love putting my jeans through a hot wash cycle then throwing them into the dryer so they get all tight and snug on my body. The outline of my cockhead constantly visible, my balls teased and spread like beads on an abacus. My mostly naked ass cheeks encased in denim, baking like potatoes in an oven wrapped in tinfoil kissed in butter.
Even still, the seams begin to pull apart as threads disintegrate from wear causing my thighs to rub together with a more fervent and strained intensity with every step, lift, bend and lean. Stretched and scraped over time, holes appear in the crotch inviting cool air and playing tricks with the mind upon lowering them after a day’s use, how noticeable is it all, do i need to prepare to replace these heroes of hangar-less trousers.
The panties they match, some with obvious signs of distress, frayed edges and rips in inconvenient places. Unlike denim, the lace and spandex that pulls loses its elasticity gradually until one day they no longer hold themselves to your flesh at all. Tickling and torturing your bits, scraping and bunching, they let you know their demise is your best option.
At the back of your drawer, your closet, your tickle trunk lies a treasure trove of garment gladiators desperate to return to glory. They have seen the way you look at other clothes in store windows, the way you fill online carts and wish lists.
Fill your carts, feel those new fabrics, tour those dressing rooms, but as you do, pull along those stretched and tattered threads, bring them to the brink, pry them from your body and wear them out the way they deserve until there’s nothing left but you and your naked body. Then the excitement of wearing out your new clothes is earned, guilt free.
These panties are faded, stretched and entirely worn out.
That’s what makes these panties special 😉
