A New Convert

Okay, I’ll admit that I was mistaken. I like boxers.

A long time ago I had tried some scratchy, bulky boxer shorts and I hated them Uh. They got tangled up in the legs of my jeans, they rubbed the wrong way, the seams scratched me, and I had to keep sticking my hands down my pants to adjust the legs. Pain in the friggin’ ass.

But as I mentioned a couple of days ago, my frenum piercing was rubbing and feeling irritated (I did mention my new piercing, right?), and by the end of the day I would be very uncomfortably shifting and adjusting my crotch. And the area was red and feeling raw. Grr.

So the other night when I was walking in the door, my wife was walking out to pick up some little things at the local W*lm*rt, so I decided to join her. I spent a good fifteen minutes of my life that I’ll never get back digging through the racks of underwear for cotton boxers. Not the poly/cotton blends, but 100% cotton. What cracks me up was that out of the four rows of Haynes and BVD and several other brands, the overwhelming majority of boxers were in Large and X-Large sizes, with the next greatest number being in Small. What the hell? I managed to find only half a dozen 3-packs of Mediums, several of which were some gawd-awful pattern, or had some reason that I didn’t like them. I picked one of the two packages that looked okay, mumbling that I was only doing this so my piercing (did I mention my piercing?) would heal properly and that I’d be able to get through the workday without having to wear a kilt.

The next day, I wore some loose, baggy shorts (I have a pocket fetish, so I wear cargo shorts) and could feel the breeze coming up my thigh. Several times I stood over the floor grates for the A/C and let the cool breeze air things out.


I’m wearing a pair while I type this – dark red ones. Mmmm, the cool breeze from the open window is flowing up one side and out the other. It’s almost better than going commando.

This weekend I’m going back to get a few more pairs.

About Tom Allen

The Grey Geezer Dauntless defender of, um, something that needed dauntless defending. Dammit, I can't read this script without my glasses. Hey, you kids, get off my damn lawn!
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