Buttless Chaps

I've never been that into crazy outfits just for the purpose of sex, outfits that you can only wear for that purpose. I mean, sure, I suppose you could wear crotchless panties out and about under your clothes, for instance, but I'd rather just go without. And things like leather gear or crazy lingerie items, while they can be amusing for an evening, are not something I spend my money on. I don't have anything against them, but I just don't see the need.

Because what I do like is crazy outfits that are fun to fuck in but which can also be used for other reasons, or at least could ostensibly be used for other purposes even if I personally don't. Like my tutu. Or a costume of some sort. Or my school uniform. Any of those things are both spicy in the bedroom and could be worn out, even if I never actually do. I realize that the line between these two things is fairly blurry, but most lines are. This isn't a hard and fast rule, it's just a general inclination.

When I was younger, some well-meaning but misguided friend or relative gave all the kids well-meaning but misguided gifts, and I wound up with the pajamas. I'd say that it was only slightly misguided, because I haven't worn pajamas in my life; I've slept nude pretty much since I was a baby. Clearly I wasn't going to tell this person, "Hey, I sleep naked, take them back." I felt a bit slighted though, because I was of that age. They were kids PJs too, which just made me feel like this well-meaning (I say in hindsight) but misguided person was implying that I was a kid when I really, really wanted to be a grown-up. You know the age I'm talking about. We all went through it. Anyway, the misguided quotient increases slightly when one takes into account the fact that, while they were pink, they were one-piece jobs that had the flap at the back. I didn't know they made them like that any more, certainly not in the size I got, or in pink. I figured the only people who wore things like that were mountain men.

So after polite replies were made, these PJs languished in obscurity for a few years, consigned to a drawer. Something to understand about my family is that we aren't quite as good about getting rid of things we don't need or want as we should be. We're not pack-rats or hoarders, but we tend to make a pile of things which "we should get rid of" and then keep forgetting to get rid of them until they've migrated into places where we don't remember them. Sometimes we carry out surgical strikes against clutter and do eliminate things, but that's a grand adventure, not an ongoing process.

Anyway, at a certain point, after Mike had been deflowered and he and I were going at it like rabbits, one of those surgical strikes was taking place, and the PJs resurfaced. Much fun was made of them, I'm afraid, butt-flap in particular. And then someone said, "I bet you'd still fit into those..." So anti-clutter brigade was put on hold for a few minutes while I wriggled into them. Since I'd never worn them, I'd never seen just how large they were, and while I probably would have been swimming in them before, now they fit. Not a great fit, a bit snug, but that snugness brought out certain attributes of them which wouldn't have been immediately apparent. In a word, hot.

Despite Mom's insistence that we had to keep cleaning, Mike slipped his hand into the flap and started fooling around, goosing me, making me wet, and pretty soon he had the flap open and me on my hands and knees while he fucked me through it. And I couldn't believe that we hadn't done this before. All those wasted opportunities. Because like I've said, I like sex in clothes and I like costumes and I like crazy, and this was a bit of all three.

So for the next few days, those PJs got a workout. Thank goodness it was winter; they were fairly warm and even in the chill I heated up. They got a bit sweaty, and a bit juicy, and while Mike was always fairly contained with his shooting, there were even a few dribbles of cum which leaked out and contaminated things.

It was decided that we couldn't really get rid of the PJs because of the aforementioned, so we kept them, even after the novelty faded and Mike and I moved on to other pursuits. I pulled them out later and tried to get into them for old times' sake but I'd finally gotten too big (not too fat, mind you, but too tall; my ego made me say that). Then, finally, we consigned them to the garbage because there didn't seem to be anything else to do with them.

And now I wish we hadn't, because I'd love to see Sveta in them. Her cute little ass peaking out the back... damn, I'm drenched just picturing it. I may have to go hunting for matching pairs of butt-flap pajamas now. Which gives the lie to all my protestations above; I do like impractical sex-wear, just perhaps of a slightly different type than some.