My friend has convinced me to attend an underwear party this weekend. Once I got over the initial stress about what I’m going to wear—keep in mind, I still haven’t made up my mind—there was a whole other wave of anxiety that rushed over me. As you’re all aware, we live in a world where people as stunning as Jamie Dornan have issues with their body. I feel like it’s perfectly natural that I went to a place where I began to feel insecure about, well, everything.
I mean, I’m generally pretty comfortable in my own skin, but I don’t fit into any special niches… And I sure as hell don’t look like Spanish Manhunt member thebigfox! This might be for the best, because I don’t think I could handle the pressure of dozens of men begging to lick my abs every single time I take my shirt off. (That’s what I assume it’s like when you’re this stunning.)
How many crunches do I have to do for my body to look like this by Saturday night? Should I forget about it and just be grateful for my moderately decent health? Or should I skip the party altogether, book a trip to Spain and join the dozens of men who are begging to lick thebigfox‘s luscious stomach? Decisions, decisions!
Hispanoamérica, Madrid, Community of Madrid, Spain
Morbo a tope