On fancying the Man Whore a little tiny bit when he wears my suspenders

How's that for a blog post title, huh? Wonder what google searches will bring.
Anyway, yes, Man Whore. Man Whore, who have blogged about once or twice (he's not actually a Man Whore, but he will be a Man Whore male escort very soon), is dressing up as Frank N Furter from Rocky Horror Picture Show on Saturday for a Halloween party (fuck knows what I'm wearing). He's wearing J's fishnets, my suspenders, Sh's basque, my jewelery and mine and J's make-up. We're meeting tomorrow to get him high heels and leather kecks.

Tell me, dear readers, why I find it disarmingly erotic, the idea of Man Whore, straight as a die Man Whore, in my suspenders? Hm? I would not wish Boyfriend in such a get up. That is quite certain. So why? What is this?

Well, we talked about it in the pub. Not about me wanting to shag Man Whore in said clothing, but about women fancying Eddie Izzard. No great insights. Best conclusion was "cos you can talk about make up and shit, and lasses like that sort of patter". Which really isn't it.

So what is it? It's a thinker.

* DISCLAIMER: I have no plans on shagging Man Whore. *