A Woman’s Case Against Gray Sweatpants I don’t want my man being ogled in the streets! Aliya S. King Aliya S. King Oct 2, 2020·4 min read Image for post

6 years

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A Woman’s Case Against Gray Sweatpants
I don’t want my man being ogled in the streets!
Aliya S. King
Aliya S. King
Oct 2, 2020·4 min read
Image for post
Image for post
Illustration: Olivia Fields

When I was in college, my boyfriend would often attempt to veto my outfits before I went out with friends. His main issue was crop tops. He’d yank down my shirt to reach the top of my jeans. (It was the ’90s — Aaliyah’s Tommy Hilfiger ads had us all rocking baggy jeans with peekaboo waistlines.)

It wasn’t that he didn’t like my body. Quite the opposite, actually. (A moment of silence for my long-ago six-pack.) It was that he didn’t want anyone else to like my body. Which meant no one else should see it.

“Why do you always have your belly peeking out?” he’d protest.

“Because it’s my belly, and I’m an adult,” I’d reply.

“Still,” he’d say, “you don’t need to show off.”

I’d usually roll my eyes, go to the party, and ignore his nonsense.

As the years passed and partners changed, plenty of men have tried to police my body and clothes. (Even my dad.) My attire has always been considered hazardous. It was classic respectability politics — I was discouraged from wearing anything too short or tight or revealing. The onus wasn’t on rapists to not be rapey; by some twisted logic, it was my responsibility to make sure I didn’t dress in a way that could invite trouble.

Society as a whole is much better now. Perfect, no, but definitely better. Not just for me, but for young women like my 23-year-old daughter, who knows she can wear whatever she damn well pleases. (Well, her dad might have some commentary, but he knows better than to try to dictate what she wears.)

So, here we are in 2020. I wear whatever I want and my current partner, a man I call a feminist (though he doesn’t like the title) would never think of saying something about what I’m wearing.

But I want to say something about what he’s been wearing.

The fall has arrived. Temperatures are dropping. And as a result, he’s been sporting something that I know makes other women raise an eyebrow, drool a bit, and maybe even take a picture on the sly for future reference. This single article of clothing has entire private Facebook groups dedicated to its existence. Women trade photos like baseball cards, instructing others to pervily pinch out at their phone screen to get a better look. I know this because I’ve done it, too.

I will not lie, those gray sweatpants look like lingerie to me. Those are inside pants as far as I’m concerned.

The offending clothing item? The low-rise jeans of the 21st century?

It’s gray sweatpants.

One week ago, I looked up to see my loved one on his way out of the door to walk our adorable, nine-week-old Dalmatian puppy while wearing a pair of heather gray joggers. [Insert Alfred Hitchcock movie screams here.]

I feel terrible because now I understand why my boyfriend was tugging on my crop tops back in the day. I know it’s not right to say this, but I don’t want my man out here getting ogled. (While he’s walking a puppy and hanging out with his cute-as-a-button 7-year-old son.)

I am ashamed to admit this. But I asked him not to wear the gray sweatpants. He looked at me, rolled his eyes, and wore them again the next day. And the next. As he should. He’s a grown-a** man!

But I will not lie, those gray sweatpants look like lingerie to me. Those are inside pants as far as I’m concerned.

I posted on my Facebook page to see what my people thought. There was 100% agreement from my friends — these sweatpants are dangerous, and he should not be allowed to wear them anywhere beyond the confines of our home.

Again, I know I’m wrong. But I’m being honest.

If you own a pair of gray sweatpants, understand that you might as well be wearing a Speedo. You might make your partner feel insecure if you wear them unaccompanied. Need to make a quick run in some sweats? Wear a blue pair. Or a black pair.

Better yet? Throw on some dad jeans and call it a day. Your partner will appreciate it.
Medium
Me: I like looking at women in sweatpants which are light colored, especially the tan ones – you can see everything under the material – as a man, saw a female a few days ago and she looked like she was n***, couldn’t take my eyes off her yummy shape

New Confession

Mr John…she stammered.shhhhh I said. If I tell your mom you were actually f****** on my couch she’ll beat you ground you or? Yeah I know. How can we make this right? Well if I won’t tell you can’t tell. Come over here and sit on my lap. No straddle my legs and face me. Are we going to really f***? No sweetie. You are 13, and I’m not insane. But a little foreplay to give you your o***** would be a nice way to end your night. She edged up to me , saw the huge bulge in my pants. And spread her thighs apart and nestled her tight little a** on my legs. God she was warm. I parted her blouse snd palm ribbed her n******. A minute later she closed her eyes and leaned backwards, her tongue lolling in her mouth. I Slowely began sucking and licking her now hardening n******. Slurp. Slurp. I suckled her tips. Oh oh Mr John you really know how to s*** n******. She panted. Now I ran my fingernails from her spread open knees to her very inner thighs. She felt terrific and parted her thighs wider. I smelled her young eager p**** aroma. It was intoxicating. You smell so fresh sweetie. My name is Lizzie. Call me Lizzie. As I messaged her thighs she respread hrr thighs. Am I all drippy? She asked. I moved my fingers to the edge of her vaginal flesh. Yes swee Lizz you are a little slippery. Met I touch your very soft p**** Lizz? Yes yes I ran my fingers over the slushy slit. From a** hole to her c*** I let my fingers fiddle and wiggle in between her inner and outer lips. Nearly virgin as she was the flesh was delicate and lovely. My fingers and c*** tingled as I played with her p****. She gasped a little. Oh oh oh press on my c******* Mr John. Rub it gently. It’s all on fire down there.what’s on fire? My hot p**** Mr John. I know Lizz but it will get much much hotter . I felt up between her inner lips and gently rubbing her buttonwatcher her face contorted as she bit met bottom lip. Ooooo ooooo. Ooooo she slobbered. Yes honey let it go let it grow wild up into your belly and spread. I will get much more exciting. Her 13 yr old p**** enraged my c*** snd it twitched maddeningly. I caressed the wet button slowly and drew circles around it then tapped it seversl times. Then pinched it and then pressed on it. Then gripped the tiny button. Oh oh oh I’m i’m ( I stopped all movements. She unstiffenefd her torso and nearly collapsed. No no no don’t stop. Just for a minute. Your climb up will be even better. Oh s*** oh s*** I have to peepee. Go ahead let it come. She let loose snd peed into a cup i ok held. I watched her urinate and nearly blew my wad. She finished. I wiped her puss and slid my finger to her wet c******* again. Yes yes yes as I rolled my finger over the now very tender c*** I lifted her Fanny closer to my chest. Now my hot breath covered her c***. But also bared her tiny button slowly and hole. It was pink and puckered. Tho delicious looking I chose to use my other finger to eiggle it over her sss hole. She jiggled her a** cheeks trying to tighten them, but I pulled them apart and slid my index finger up into her lovely little yielding hole as fsr as I could. Once fullly inserted I wiggled it round and round and round. She gagged a bit but I gently lifted the hood on her c*** and sucked it into my lips. My waiting tongue began licking her c*** faster and faster. She grunted. She cried out as her wave of lust built up. As I sucked harder she waved her arms skyward snd grabbed her n******, pinching hard. A wild scream may have begun, but no sound was emitting from her gasping mouth. Her a** rippled and bounced on my legs. She stiffened and then looking into my eyes she collapsed against my body. Gasping for oxygen she sagged into e***** exstacy. Oh god oh god. I hugged her tiny body warmly. Was it good for you Lizz? I asked.

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