"Do they really belong to a friend?" "No, they're mine," I said quietly."Do they really belong to a friend?" "No, they're mine," I said quietly. As he stepped forward into the light I could see that he was naked except for a black, g-string like pouch. "I thought so," he admitted. "I don't think that's anything to be put off about. You like to wear them, don't you. You must feel good in them, so why not wear them?" I did not answer. I sat down, stiffly, on the edge of the bed. "I, I don't know what's going to happen," I admitted. "Relax," he said, strolling to the bedstand and turning the radio on low. "Are you feeling tense?" "Yes, sort of...., I just don't know what's happening and," "Shhhhh," he said in a long, quiet exhalation. "Lie down on your stomach. Do you have any lotion?" I motioned toward the top of the bureau, then complied, lying down on top of the comforter. "Let me see if I can rub you the right way," he joked, clambering on to the far end of the bed and bouncing up, over, astride my legs. He arranged my hands above my head, crossing the wrists, one on top of another. I shivered as his hand touched the inside of my thigh, rearranging my legs so that he straddled but one of them. I could feel his body heat. One hand touched the top of my shoulder, then another. He dribbled lotion across the back of my neck and began to knead the tight coils of muscle there. |