I'm a serious, professional woman who never so much as considered the possibility of wearing thongs, until a friend gave me a bunch of them.They were in a palette of beautiful pastel and bright shades, and, of course, black. A color for every mood. "Try them," she said, and I did.
Having them on felt like wearing a whisper, and soon I couldn't wear my cotton briefs any more, the ones that were identical to what I'd worn as a child: thick, sturdy, flesh-colored horrors that never seemed to wear out.( My thongs are sturdy, too, for all their delicacy.) I bought more.
I'm a Hanky Panky fan now. Who would have thought it? Evidently, life doesn't have to be lived in grim underwear.
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