It’s winter here in Atlanta. Slowly but surely every woman is switching over to their sweaters. Stylish clothes are giving way to neck to waist coverage of skin. Shapely and unshapely curves are averaged out by thick cloth that keeps hypothermia away. Some erotic oriented people might be depressed by such a devolpment.
I take a different view. When I see a woman who wears a sweater, I can’t help but wonder what they are wearing underneath. They could be wearing anything under the protection of a sweater. They could be wearing a lacy bra. They could be wearing a t-shirt that proclaims their allegiance to their favorite sex act. Why, they could be wearing nothing at all except bite marks and handprints from the deviant sex they had this morning.
This idea of sexy surprises is only heightened by the tendency of the season to wear holiday themed sweaters. Decorated with Christmas trees, images if snow and elves, the sweaters look like wrapping paper now. To me, shopping mall crowds look like a hundred women begging me to unwrap them. They’ve gone to the trouble to wrap their chests, isn’t it only polite to take off their sweaters and see what presents they have waiting for me? Maybe it’s purple pirate lingerie?
How will I ever know if I don’t at least peek?