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But when one of my best friends revealed to me that he had a hidden stash of makeup and panties, I was intrigued.When we started dating months later, I knew I wanted to see it for myself. So when the opportunity to stay in a free hotel room came up, I talked him into it.“We don’t have to do it tonight,” I told him. I don’t want you to watch me getting dressed.”Let me get this out of the way first — my boyfriend isn’t “girly.” No, he doesn’t watch sports and he sometimes spends more time on his hair than I do, but he’s joked that he’s like a cartoon character in that he wears the same outfit (jeans and a black T-shirt) pretty much every single day. You look good.”And he looked just as good when he came out of hotel suite’s bedroom, dressed in thick black panties with inserts that filled out his hips and a corset that drew his waist in. It had sheer sleeves that came down to his forearms, hiding both his bra straps and his shoulders, which he called one of the biggest “giveaways.”I raised an eyebrow.“We could save it for tomorrow and take it easy today.“No way,” he said. He drinks beer and whiskey, doesn’t dance when we go out, plays far too many video games, and all-in-all is a dude’s dude. “Your boobs are bigger than mine.”“Fuck yeah they are,” he said, grinning broadly.Which is why I was pretty surprised one night when, after leaving our friends at a bar to go smoke a joint on an East Village stoop, he pulled out his phone to show me pictures of a strangely familiar looking girl pouting at the cellphone’s camera.“That’s me,” he said, his other hand shaking as he clutched a cigarette. “Go big or go home.”I helped him apply his makeup, paying extra attention to the foundation to mask the faint trace of stubble left from shaving that morning.
Fan-favorite model Kate Upton is engaged to her longtime boyfriend, Justin Verlander, and debuted her new engagement ring on the red carpet of the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute Gala in NYC, on Monday, May 2.
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He’s a paranoid fucker; nobody would be going near that suitcase. The stripper heels stayed in their box (which I carried up to the hotel room after being asked, “The box is hot pink, babe. Before this guy came along I thought I was pretty kinky.
I’d been asking boyfriends to tie me up, hold me down and hit me harder since high school, and my tastes had escalated at a pretty steady pace.