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To be honest, to call it a G-string is an understatement. However, we shall get to the details later. First, how it all started. The boys and I are doing our swallowship thing in Rhino Pub at the Sheraton. Suddenly, an old friend of ours, we will call her Baby D, walks in with her friend, a chick. These two, Baby D and her friend, are birds of a feather – beautiful, sexy.
We invite them to our table, order a fresh round of drinks – the green ones for the boys, and something Sheraton calls “Sunrise Cocktail” for the girls. Don’t ask me what is in Sunrise Cocktail, I couldn’t care less. Ask me about Baby D’s friend, and I will tell you she was the sunrise itself. Therefore, we will call her Ms Sunrise. You would think that a girl who had never met any of us would just sit there, sip her drink, pick her nails and generally make herself beautiful. Not Sunrise. She engaged us in terrific conversation. Lovely and lively, is how to describe her. Suddenly, a bunch of girls walk past. One is wearing a T-string, clearly visible above her low cut trousers. In case you don’t know, a T-string is a crazier (and I daresay sexier) version of the G-string. It is made of even less material than the scanty G-string. What made this particular T-string peculiar, however, was the metallic, silver or gold “beads” at the T-junction. All our jaws (I mean the boys’) dropped. “OK girls, who’s got one of those?” we asked Baby D and Ms Sunrise. “I am actually wearing one,” Sunrise shot back. “No!” we all also exclaimed. “Want to bet?” Sunrise challenged us. Now, I am not one to chicken out of a bet, especially one involving a sexy chick’s underwear. The logic is simple, the only way we can judge who has won is by looking into her trousers. Look at it this way: If she is not wearing the T-string and she chickens out, I win. If she is wearing the T-string, she wins. But I also still win, since I have to pop my head into her trousers to verify. It is what I call a win-win-win situation. So, I slapped Shs 50,000 on the table and went for it. Sunrise gave me the green light to verify. She was seated on a high stool. I walked behind her and peeped. And there it was, the real thing, complete with the gold-plated “beads”! “Heh, I can’t see anything. Can I pull your trousers a bit low?” I lied. She first “jammed”, claiming there were too many people around. I refused to pay up and she changed her mind. So I pulled the trouser, a little lower than “a bit low”. “OK, I can see it now, but these look like fake beads to me. Can I touch?” I pushed my luck. And luck haven’t I got, she allowed me to touch. Electric. “OK, you win.” I finally declared. My friends begged that they also be allowed “just a peep,” but Sunrise and I insisted that it was a pay per view affair. I gave Ms Sunrise her fifty thou, but not before she agreed to take me shopping. Yes, for a T-string. Hers or mine? Stay tuned, you just might find out.
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