Rachel Kramer Bussel writes a popular sex column for the Village Voice called “Lusty Lady.” A couple of weeks ago, she wrote an article titled “F***ing and Feminism”.  In the article, Ms. Bussel criticized feminists for their ideological views on sex, one which pooh-poohs women doing anything “submissive” to men, such as giving them oral sex, getting bikini waxes, or enjoying being “spanked.”
“I may like to get spanked until I scream, but I still deserve to be treated as an intelligent human being. Submitting sexually doesn’t equal becoming a doormat outside the bedroom.”
I agree. If a woman wants to be spanked, why not? That doesn’t mean she can’t be a nuclear scientist or get equal pay for equal work.  Of course, if ALL she wanted to do all night was get spanked, I might wonder about some of her “personal issues,” but I would still recommend her to friends if she was a good neurologist.
What I found most interesting about the article was when Ms. Bussel talked about men’s sexuality:
“Men are also unfairly judged—as brutish horndogs selfishly out to get as much sex as they can. The truth is, they’re confused and constrained by the “macho” role too.”
She went on to talk about the desires of men that “aren’t sanctioned by popular culture,” such as wearing women’s panties, getting tied up, and other kinky stuff. These men are frustrated, because they are afraid of opening up to their women. What if their girlfriends/wives laugh at them?
The great irony to it all was — as I was reading this — I was wearing women’s panties.
Yes, I did just say that.  I was wearing women’s panties.
You expect complete candor and honesty when you come to Citizen of the Month, and damn it — you’re going to get it! If you want to take me off your blogroll right now, let it be so. I will not hide behind this facade anymore.
IÂ will come “out” as a panty-wearing man as a public service to all men who want to express themselves in new and exciting ways.
This might come as a surprise to you, since IÂ normally seem pretty white bread.
“Neilochka, why WERE you wearing women’s panties?” you might ask.
Well, there is actually a story behind it.
Saturday night, Sophia and I went to a wedding. It was a nice ceremony and romantic to see a couple so much in love. During the ceremony, Sophia and I had a little discussion. We decided that if we ever divorce and remarry, we’ll be each others’ best man/maid of honor. Isn’t that cute?
The wedding had an “Italian” theme and the programs were all shaped like wine bottles. The only glitch in the wedding was that the specialty wedding cake was decorated to look exactly like a large wheel of Italian cheese. Unfortunately, people started slicing it up when they walked in, thinking it was an appetizer of real cheese.
Sophia and I danced for a large part of the evening. It was a lot of fun. We even re-danced the “first dance” from our own wedding — a swing dance to the Andrew Sisters’ Bir Mir Bis Du Shein. Later that evening, we met a single woman who was by herself, so we invited her to dance with us. Let me tell you — dancing with two women — that was as close to a threesome as I’m probably ever going to get!
The next day, I got up early because the radio station was calling me at 7:45 AM for my radio “interview” with Washington Post radio about Mel Gibson. After the interview, I was wired. I suggested to Sophia that we go have some breakfast..  She agreed.
Now, remember — Sophia and I are separated and live in two different homes.  As I started to get dressed to go out, I realized I only had my underwear from last night. After all my dancing, I was all sweaty, and I certainly didn’t want to put on the same pair of underwear.
“Sophia, do you have any of my underwear around?” I yelled.
“No, I think you took them all to New York.”
This was the trip we took to New York and the Berkshires several weeks back. Which meant that most of my underwear were still in my luggage, sitting in my living room at the other apartment.
“I have no underwear!” I sobbed.
Now, in our past discussions on underwear, I learned that many of you like to go “commando,” which is an expression I had never encountered until I started blogging.  Let me just say, in the strongest terms possible, that I find going “commando” completely uncomfortable and unsafe. God would not have created underwear if he meant man to be freely flopping all around like that — especially when there are dangerous zippers nearby, ready to snare their prey.
No, I would not go “commando.”
Instead, I went into Sophia’s underwear drawer. I pushed aside the thongs (how do women wear those things?) and the granny underwear (hey, I’m fashionable!), and tried to find something that was as close to a male brief as possible. My closest choice was a cotton yellow brief with red trim, and “I Love Curious George” written across the ass. It didn’t fit perfectly; it looked like a small Speedo with Curious George’s face in front, but it would do until later.
And yes, I am still at Sophia’s right now — and I am still wearing her panties!
I hope you realize how brave I am for telling you all this. I hope this enables men all over the blogosphere to explore their own sexuality and not be afraid to experiment.  Men love to tell stories about getting into the panties of some woman. But how many are confident enough to tell a story about getting into the panties of some woman — and I mean literally wearing them?!
