Thong, butt not forgotten....

I was at lunch today when the subject of thong underwear came up. Now, okay, this is probably the accepted undergarment of choice among women under 30, but somehow (although I haven't taken a survey), I'm pretty sure it's not terribly common among us hovering around the 50 year old mark. I don't know why not. It's perfect for us. I mean, our butts are sagging, our panties are always riding up our cracks because they can't find a way to cover that much territory, and we're constantly battling pantylines. We need thongs far more than some taut-assed, 22 year old!

Anyway...my one friend, let's call her V. for the sake of modesty and me not getting my ass kicked for telling you her inner secrets...anyway, V. gives my other friend a big conspiratorial grin and leans in to the table. "Guess what, M?" she says. "I've started wearing thongs!"

M. screws her face up into this little frown and looks confused. "Underwear?"

Well, duh! But M's blonde in every sense of the word AND a recovering debutante. Life has presented her with plenty of obstacles to overcome and I must say, she's done quite well overall, but the concept of one of us wearing some of those was just a bit much for her to handle.

"Well, of course!" V says.

"How'd you get used to that string running up your crack?" M. asks. "I tried, but I just couldn't get used to it! How long did it take you?"

V. gives me that, debutante! look and rolls her eyes. "About a day," she answers.

"Yeah, M," I chime in. "It's only about a day if you don't have one of them debutante super smooth asses!"

M does that little debutante sniff thing they all do and says, "Screw you!"

Which prompts V. to add, "I love 'em! You know why? It makes your pants feel like someone's stroking your ass! I can't remember the last time I felt that!"

We all laugh cause it's true, but don't feel too sorry for us...

I'm wearing thongs, too, and that makes me think of the other good thing about thongs...

"Hey, I like them because I can walk around thinking I'm half naked. You know, it's like your ass isn't wearing underwear, which it really isn't, so in a way you're naked."

We get out into the parking lot and as V walks away to her car, I lean over to M and say, "Hey, look, she's not wearing any underwear and her ass is getting stroked while she walks!"

M. can't help herself. She calls out, "Nancy says..."

I punch her, but V. has already guessed what we're saying. She stops dead, right in the center of the lot, bends over and shakes her tail at us. "Nope, see? Pantylines!"

Yep, we may be getting older, but we sure aren't getting any less wild.

I'm thinking of adding some of those temporary tattoos to the small of my back...hell, maybe even to my left cheek....See, while those 20 year olds only have asses the size of postcards, I've got a billboard to work with! Hey, maybe I could do like that man's doing with his forehead, auction off space on my posterior for advertising space....yeah, I know...who would see it? And once they had, who would remember what the ad was for?!