The Joys of Wearing a Thong
If you’re brave enough to try it.
The first thong I owned was a lacy black sexy number with red frills that decorated the edges. I had about three, but that one was my favorite. I was at the age of sexual exploration, and a string between butt cheeks gave me sass.
It hid a little while leaving something to the imagination. That was the right amount of naughty I needed to rebel against my conservative upbringing and play by my own rules.
When my Christian parents found out about it, all hell broke loose. I can still remember my mother’s shrills as she shouted, “Can you believe your daughter is already wearing such, these are what prostitutes and strippers wear.” While my father paced up and down, convincing himself that it didn’t belong to his baby girl.
Back then, thongs were considered slutty and scandalous, But for me, it symbolized sexual freedom and expression. My femininity and sensuality were budding, and nothing embodied that more like a string between my butt cheeks.
Boyshorts, french cuts, hipsters, and low rises didn’t have the appeal a thong had. They all had too much fabric as though trying to hold me in place. I wanted to be free and feel free. With a thong, I achieved that.
