There's this foreboding no-man's-land that exists in every male's life. A place of solace and refuge. Somewhere to run to when times get tough. It's called his underwear drawer.
Now, I've known for a long time that I wasn't the only one who kept odd things in his underwear drawer. (Now, when I say odd, what I really mean is personal and private things.) Ever since I was little and stayed over at a friend's house and we went through his father's underwear drawer together, I knew I was not alone. In it, we found pornos, condoms, and what appeared to be an incriminating video tape that we never did get a chance to watch.
Personally, when I moved last fall into my new home, my underwear drawer ceased to be the home of all things naughty. Since I would share my room with no one at all, there was no need to hide anything away from prying eyes. All I did was put them in a container with a lid and put it all near my TV. I mean, what good is porn if it isn't easily accessible?
Well last night, I got even closer to my man. I got to venture into his underwear drawer. WOW. What a place of wonder and delight! Shall I list them all for you? Perhaps I shall.
First there's the standard Jockeys'. Grr. Tight white boxer-briefs that also come in gray. There are socks also. Tons of socks in a myriad of colors.
Then there's the Batman stuff. Huh, you ask? Exactly. Some old Batman trading cards from the first movie, a little Batman car that the wheels spin when you push down on Batman's head... I'm sure there's more too, and I've just forgotten.
The drawer is also full of other freaky things. Like an envelope containing one of his son's teeth that fell out. Of course, the envelope is addressed to the Tooth Fairy. JC informs me that the going rate is five dollars a tooth. For that, I'd be yanking my teeth out! The drawer also contains a pair of broken glasses, some letters, a warranty for his watch, and more. Plus there's one lone condom floating around in there.
Now for the good stuff. He's got some lube. Of course. No real surprise there. He's also got a jock-strap. When I uncovered it, I forced him to try it on for me. We were both already completely naked throughout my venture into the land of awe and delight so it wasn't like I was asking for a lot. He put it on, but it didn't do much for me, especially since I prefer my sporty men one way: nude! Then there was this little leather number. A soft leather pouch with a steel zipper running up it, and only a g-string to keep it on. Now, he protested he'd never worn it for anyone before, and that he hadn't even tried it on. So of course, I made him wear it for me. I was on the floor in delight. What a trip. I made him step into the light, so I could see it in all of its glory. Again, there was no real turn on here, just a lot of fun in seeing him so uncomfortable in it, pickin at his ass as it rode up him.
Well I guess that ends the tour of the drawer. I'm sure next month will have some sort of everlasting value and not just a quick, odd- but quick, tale of drawers. Then again, next month maybe I'll cover what I found in the drawer below his underwear drawer. Wouldn't you like to know.
PS: "sex is a dish best served with chocolate syrup." - Elliot Lane
Elliot, 23, is a hard working SOB in Boca Raton, FL. Write him at firstname.lastname@example.org. Read his other shit at http://elliotlane.editthispage.com. Gossip about him with your friends. Go ahead, he doesn't mind.