Enjoying D3 Sprinters

Spurred on by Stevieshortpants' report on daily runs in Adidas D3 sprinters, I thought I'd better join his club. But, unlike him, I am neither boyish nor have "coltish legs" - but never let a minor matter like this stop one from having fun......

Of my dozen or so 'traditional' 1970s sprinters, three are size D3. Now, bearing in mind these are designed for 26/28" waist, and I am snug in 34" Levis, how do I get them on? I apologise to purists: I've cut out the liner, and split the sides all the way up to the waistband. With the aid of baby oil, the sensuous nylon slips over my butt and nestles cosily around my equipment.

Tuesday, December 6th: 6 o'clock in the evening and 0 deg. C. Liberally oiled from shoulders to knees, I slide into mid-blue D3s and don lightweight trainers (no socks, of course). I stretch on a white, rib-cage length, see-thru, sleveless top and venture towards the High Street.

I run quite quickly (it is, after all, bloody cold): the D3s settle where best to accept the movement - high on the hips, back seam deep between arse cheeks, balls tightly encased in oily nylon and caressed at each footfall.

Crunching through the remains of Wednesday's snow and ice patches I arrive at the shops - quite a few people around. My skin tight top is riding up as I run, exposing even more flesh (not a problem) but rubbing painfully over my freezing nipples (definitely a problem). Slowing to a walk, I saunter past the butchers and bakers (sadly, there is no candle-stick maker these days), banks and estate agents. Mission accomplished.

But why am I here? How to get home? Resting a while, and starting to shiver, in kicks life saver Adrenalin - what the hell - off with the top, and enjoy the jog home.
xsadidas xsadidas
61-65, M
Dec 6, 2012