Welcome to Em..I love her HAWT stories and one of my lucky readers will be lucky because Em's giving away a copy to one lucky commentor. :) Don't forget to leave an email address.
Loincloths through the Ages
Loincloths through the Ages
By Em Petrova
Primitive man started covering their junk with leather loincloths when they went out of the cave to say, slay prehistoric beasts and find hot cave-chicks. Pharaohs even had a special loincloth called a Shendoah that made their way into the tombs and hopefully the afterlife with them.
Entering the scene for men’s undergarments were braies. These came about in the medieval times and covered a man’s physique from waist to midcalf. These made it difficult to relieve oneself, however. So man developed the codpiece. Yes, this sounds like something a man would come up with, yes?
The codpiece is basically braies with an opening in the front so they can better drain the lizard. Soon Henry VIII started to pad his codpiece, and then it was all over. Men everywhere were making improvements to the size of their junk, and women were falling prey to the scam.
Next came flannel drawers worn up till the 1930s when boxing became all the rage. Thus the creation of boxers! Early variations of the boxers were belted with leather—how uncomfy is that? Then later improved with elastic waistbands.
Finally in 1934 someone spotted a picture on a postcard from the French Riviera with a man wearing a snug pair of white bathing shorts. *ding ding ding!* The tighty whitey is born.
Since then underwear has taken on some strange trends. From crazy colors and patterns to banana hammocks, men’s underwear has definitely evolved with…er…man. And we women were able to enjoy them since the dawn of time.
What’s your favorite? Boxer, brief, loincloth? Let me hear from you! One lucky winner will receive an e-book from my backlist!
Read on for an excerpt from UNBROKEN, now available from Samhain Publishing.
Christian followed his friend into the house, aware of the long lines of his back and the hard muscles rolling beneath his western shirt and Wranglers. Tucker went to the kitchen for the beer, which was new too, since Christian was always the beer runner.
Unsure of what to do with himself, Christian shuffled around the living room, listening to the refrigerator door opening and closing. When Tucker entered the space, a cloud of testosterone crowded in with him.
Christian swallowed hard and wordlessly accepted the beer. The dynamics had changed between them, but why? Had it been Tucker’s apology? Or the fact that he felt the need to apologize at all?
“Been thinking a lot about Claire today.” His friend’s words made Christian’s heart constrict.
Sinking to his regular spot on the sofa, Christian cracked open his beer. “Yeah?”
“I fucked up.”
“So go get her back.”
“I intend to.”
Without thought, Christian’s words tumbled out. “I want to be part of that. As a third.”
Tucker’s gaze snapped to his and clung. A painful heartbeat stretched between them. Unable to battle his need anymore, Christian set his beer aside, leaned back on the sofa and unzipped his jeans.
A quiet noise broke from Tucker as he sank to the recliner and did the same. The grating noise of his zipper lowering had Christian’s cock hard and weeping with pre-come. While nudging his jeans and boxers off his hips, he kicked off his boots. Usually Christian left his T-shirt on, but today he yanked it off too, leaving him completely bare.
Every inch of himself exposed to Tucker.
Taking his cue, Tucker stripped down too, abandoning jeans with the leather belt and silver buckle still in the loops. When his pearl-button shirt hit the carpet, Christian drank in the sight of his friend’s well-muscled chest, sprinkled with golden brown hair.
Christian rubbed a palm over his own bare chest to the dark trail of hair leading to his cock. As one, he and Tucker cupped their balls, fondling the tight sacs, gazes locked on each other. Webs of want spread through Christian’s body as he thought about finally dropping to his knees and taking Tucker’s long shaft in his mouth. Of sucking that dark purple head and gathering the ropes of come.
Tucker rolled his shaft through his hand, pumping it once and holding it out, erect, for Christian to see the glistening tip.
Choking off a groan, Christian fisted his cock, pressing down on the flared head so the tip slitted. Juices oozed out.
Then they were off. Hips rocking upward to meet their hands, cords standing out on Tucker’s neck and Christian’s belly dipping with each harsh breath.
Thanks for reading! And a big thank you to Amber for hosting me today!
~hardworking heroes—in bed and out~