The Spy Who Loves His Men’s Nylon Underwear
Whether spy guy is in Rome chasing after a female double agent hiding state secrets in the cup of her 38D bra, or in Panama City chasing after a drug lord hiding crack inside his crack, spy guy travels comfortably in his men’s nylon underwear – soft, lightweight, and silky to the touch. Men’s nylon underwear always feels great against the skin.
A fistfight with a rogue CIA agent sends spy guy over the railing of an interstate bridge. He hangs on by one foot, dangling, his legs aching, as his ankle muscle cramps. At least beneath the surface, spy guy still feels great in his men’s nylon underwear. It offers stretch and flexibility, while he fights his way back onto the bridge; the breathable fabric stays cool even when every other piece of clothing drips with sweat.
Back on his feet again, spy guy worries about a wrinkle in the undercover operation in Prague but not in his men’s nylon underwear, which is great to take along on unexpected trips behind enemy lines. Men’s nylon underwear never needs ironing and the wash-and-wear fabric dries faster than a drowned enemy agent stuffed in the trunk of a car.
Later in the day, when the sun drifts below the city skyline, spy guy goes upstairs to the honeymoon suite for a nightcap with agent Nadine. He drains his Martini that he always asks for, “shaken, not stirred,” loosens his tie, before stripping off his tuxedo. He stands seductively in his men’s nylon underwear in the muted bedroom light. In the silhouette, his men’s nylon underwear looks provocative and sexy, a sensuous second skin. Now you see his men’s nylon underwear. Now you don’t, as he sheds the comfort of his second skin for the bliss and ripple of muscle of his much-preferred first skin.
