Tyler Lets Me Wear His Clothes
If you are even the most casual of movie watchers, I'm sure you've seen a moment where the heroine exits the bedroom wearing the shirt (button up or tee) of the hero and not much else. I get to do that now. I've never been a "pajama girl" but the who hell even really wears pajamas anymore? This isn't the 60s. Nor do I wear a nightgown. This isn't the 1860s either. I'm all for comfort, so I wear Tyler's clothes to bed. Correction, I wear Tyler's dirty clothes to bed.
After Tyler and I started sleeping together on the regular (and I do mean sleep here), I started forfeiting my usual tee shirt and boxers for his tee shirt and underwear. Whatever happens to get left on the floor is promptly scooped up by me. That's right. I wear Tyler's used underwear to bed. Think me gross, if you will. I don't care. After all, Tyler isn't dirty. His clothes carry his natural scent emitted throughout the day, which I love, as you know.
Look, boxer briefs are comfortable. I suggest you give them a try if you haven't already, ladies. Tyler even bought me my own pack, but now they're mixed in with his anyway. Wearing my man's clothes is wonderful. It gives me a feeling of possession and being possessed at the same time. (Yikes...I mean that in the best way!) I feel closer to Tyler by wearing his clothes and he lets me do it and isn't grossed out by it. He thinks it's cute. I love that Tyler accepts this eccentricity of mine and allows me to enjoy it.
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