Commando

I met a real show-off recently. Literally, he's "full" of himself. You might say to yourself, "ugg, stupid Chelsea Queen." This one, totally hot.

I met him at Posh Bar in Hell's Kitchen and he bought me a drink. Well, he had an extra drink ticket and that's all I really need. A free drink and I'm your's. So anyway, he was like 35 with brown hair, brown eyes, businessy smart-looking type. Love that. He was pretty masculine too, but not too perfect. He has a definite gym bod and looked totally hot in his tight, but not too tight G-Star shirt. Hot pecs and from what I could see a great ass. One of my favorite things to do is check out guys' packages and asses in jeans and figure out what kind of underwear they're wearing...yah know, jock strap, boxers, briefs, bikinis. I'm a definite underwear fetish girl.

As he walked away to the bar, I noticed that his jeans were really tight and I couldn't see any lines. Okay, he's got to be a briefs guy. He's not faggy enough to be bikini or thong/jock type. Good, I love briefs, but what kind...hmm. He's back with my "free" drink. He takes a stool at my table and we start talking. It was really crowded and we frequently lost eye contact because guys were squeezing by our table. This gave me tons of opportunities to glance down at his crotch. My first look nearly threw me off the stool. I noticed his long thick piece was snaking down his left leg. He had a definite semi going on, and I could easily make out the shape of the head (GASP) he was going commando. I felt flushed and needed to go powder my nose in the bathroom. I had to see more. I am obsessed with commandos.

We finished our drinks and headed for the door. We decided to make a second date because he had plans with his friends that night. On the subway ride home, I was already scheming ways to see more commando action on our second date. He called, like, two days later and asked me what I wanted to do...I said, "let's go for a jog in Central Park". Don't make fun of me, I am so not the "jogging in Central Park as a date" kind of person, but come on! I'm thinking...workout clothes! You see my priorities. Sure enough, he wore fucking work out pants for the occasion! As he came walking up to me at the park entrance on 72nd Street and Central Park West, he was sporting some major swingage. You know, you can see it swinging side to side in work out pants. I was in heaven. We jogged and every chance I got, I looked down to swinging side to side. I can't wait for our third date. I think I'm going to suggest ladder climbing in short shorts and he'll have to go first. Hahaha!