Tuesday, 10 February 2015

Pants

Pants


I wear them in secret like a spy searching for information
Hoping to be seen,
But not wanting others to find out
My wife knows of my secret
But she holds her tongue

Their fit is glorious
Conforming to my body
Like a condom to a phallus

I love sliding them over my limbs
They are sleek and sexy
Black and shiny
Stretchy and comfortable

I have tried to show my secret
To the world
But I get looks of disgust
As if I am committing a crime against nature

But is it a crime
To feel the soft silkiness of the cloth
Against my alabaster skin.
Being caressed by the by the smooth material
Gliding, clinging and forming to my legs and derriere
Creates an almost sexual experience

Because of my fetish
I understand the female love of the style
They are as comfortable as a soft pillow
So please allow me
My secret proclivity
It does no harm or damage

To anyone

© Phil Renaud 2015