I've got a question.

So, we've all heard the story about the man who climbed the mountains of Napal to see the Dali Lama and asks, "What is the meaning of life?"

So, I'm climbing my own mountain today and I have to ask, "Boxers or briefs?" Okay, so I threw in a third option just to confuse you. Work with me here.






How important are the undergarments in the stories you've read? Do you read historicals with chemises and cod pieces? Or are you a futuristic reader, someone who likes spray on clothing? I thought about a topic for my blog post long and hard, (No pun intended) and I wanted to talk undergabachies. Why not? In romance and erotic romance you have to get past them to get to the love scenes.So hang onto your skivvies, let's talk about underwear.
 
Leather loin clothes have been found with the remains of prehistoric man, showing that for millions of years, people have been getting their underpants in a bind. Move forward and the Ancient Greeks wore something called a chiton, and even the pharaohs packed underwear in their tombs for the afterlife.

Around the 13th century, man started getting fancy with pull-on undergarbachies called braies and chauesses. Woolen drawers and drawstrings were all the fashion, in some cases, letting it all hang out. Keep moving forward and the underwear are not only for utility, but for sex appeal. Why else cod pieces that accentuate certain areas of the male anatomy, and corsets that give things a lift like Victoria's Secret's Wonder Bra?
In the 1800's a boxer named John Sullivan helped to define the boxers we know and love today.
But it wasn't until the Great Depression and the 1930's that the real innovation happened.

Yes Houston, we've got elastic!













And what about the women you say? Don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm getting to it and I have to say, "We've come a long way, baby."


Ancient women wore loin clothes, much like their male counterparts. But as you move forward, many of the undergarments evolved to cover the breasts too. The ancient Greek women generally wore nothing underneath, unless engaged in athletic activities, and then you might see them in a two piece number. The tops were called strophiae or brassieres, (the forerunner to today's bra) and for the bottoms, subligaculae, which look remarkably like granny panties in ancient art, but were worn like shorts.
 
Move forward again and women had dress-like underwear called chemise, shift, or smock. Then we have pantaloons, corsets, bodies, and OMG, the invention of the chastity belt. Petticoats move toward slips and the garments get smaller and smaller. As we continue forward, not only do women's undergarments get more complicated, they become more uncomfortable and terms like "camel toe" and "wedgie" come into play. For women, elastic changed our lives in a big way, or should I say small? Now we have garments that lift, support and separate, with very little fabric needed to accomplish the task, and some mad doctor's invention called the thong and another called a girdle. Gone are the whale bone corsets that made women keep smelling salts at hand.

So, I'll leave with with an excerpt from one of my WIPs, where my heroine is caught dead-to-rights in a pair of Grannie panties. Hey, but don't be so hard on her, at least we've evolved.
 
I threw the door open and peeked in. Perez was sitting on the washing machine. The barracks shared the appliance, but I wasn’t thinking about washing clothes. Now sharing, yeah I had a few ideas. Several creative uses of the spin cycle and hot hard muscle came to mind. I quickly pushed the image out of my brain. Not the time or place. So why are you here Audra? Damn. I knew why.

“Perez,” I hissed. “Someone’s going to catch us. The first sergeant just saw me.” I stepped into the room and shut the door.

“Lock it.”

Without thinking I turned the deadbolt. Then reached to unlock it.

“Don’t even think about it.” He jumped off the washing machine and strode toward me. My mouth went dry and I gasped.

“This isn’t a good idea.”

“You got a better one?” He backed me against the door and pressed both palms on either side of my head. No, not a game I should be playing. He was way out of my league and could eat me as a light snack if he so desired. He lowered his mouth to mine and softly kissed my bottom lip, pressing closer. “Say no, and I’ll let you go.” His breath whispered against my cheek. Heat surged through my blood. “You and I both know you don’t want to leave.”

He was right. One word. That’s all it would take. His lips moved down my neck. I balled my hands, and opened my mouth, but all that came out was a throaty growl. He had me. I couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to do it. I groaned and grabbed the ass I’d been dreaming about all day and tugged him into me.

He lifted me like a child’s toy and swung me away from the door. I wrapped my legs around his waist while he walked us to the washing machine and set me down. In one tug, he had my belt undone and went for my boots, dropping them to the floor.

“Lift.”

I pressed my hands on the washing machine and raised my hips. It took seconds for my BDU pants to come off and join my boots and belt. His eyes darted down and back up to mine. The corner of his mouth twitched and I wanted to climb inside the washing machine.

Oh God. Grandma panties.

“What are those?”

I cringed. What were they? Horror. That’s what they were. If I knew I’d find myself naked in front of Perez, I wouldn’t have worn them. No frills, cotton, the kind that stopped at the bottom of my ribs and were baggy in the ass. They most un-sexy garment on the face of the planet, and I was sporting them in basic white.

“Only good girls wear panties like that.” He reached out and slipped a finger under elastic, sliding it along the inside of my leg. “Are you a good girl, Davis?”

I sucked in a breath. His finger crept closer to my lips, skimming over them. I ground down on my teeth when he worked the pad of his digit over my clit. “No.”


 
Have a great Saturday!
 
D L