“I can’t get used to this,” Jack muttered.
“Used to what?”
“This Speedo is so tight. So showy.”
“You have an insanely hot body, don’t you want to show it off?”
Jack looked down at himself as if this is news. “I mean. I don’t mind showing off, but, isn’t showing off my bulge too much? Feels like everyone can see every curve.”
“The color and pattern obscures the fine lines, but I can see you’re packing. You’re too old to be wearing long shorts like you’re a teena- Stop pullin’ the side down, you’re just being a tease now!”
“Sorry sorry. I like how it’s more snug than board shorts, but…still weird.”
As we stood there on the lake shore discuss the merits of Speedos, another man strolled by. “Hey gorgeous,” he said to Jack. “Hot look.” And he winked.
Jack opened his mouth to say something, but just barely stammered out a ‘thanks’ before the man was out of earshot.
“See?” I said.
Jack adjusted the band of the underwear. “Guess there is some merit to this.”
“Well,” I shrugged. “If you don’t like it, you could go naked instead.”
Jack looked horrified. “No.”
I giggled. “You’re so easy to tease. Ok, now I have to teach you how to walk.”
“I know how to walk.” Jack replied. He tilted his head at me.
“No silly. Like, strut. I am going to force some confidence in you if it kills me.”
“I wish I could take some of yours. How do you get to be so confident?” Jack asked.
“Just time. Learning fashion, nutrition, and taking care of my body until I like what I saw in the mirror. But I picked up this guy once in a bar- typical nervous closeted office worker who desperately needed some pity sex- and he said to me, ‘What’s a hot guy like you want with a guy like me?’ and it blew my mind. No one had called me hot before. I never even thought of myself as hot. I took that guy back to my apartment, wore him out, and made him late for work the next day. And fixed his haircut. The sides were soooooooo bad.”
Jack smiled. “That does sound like you. You like to help people and leave em better than you found em.”
“I’m the Gay Red Cross. Wait no.” I thought and rubbed my chin with my fingers. “The Red St. Andrews Cross for Wayward Gays. That’s my charity.”
The reference to a piece of BDSM furniture made Jack snort out a laugh. “Nothing has described you so well in your whole life. Make that new your Grindr headline.”
“Oh my fucking god Jack, you are brilliant, Jack” I whipped out of my phone to do that. By the time I was done, Jack was hit on again, this time by a studly bear.
“Huh,” Jack said after he left. “Ok, I think I’m ready to start practicing strutting now.”
I clapped my hands together. “Excellent. I just love spending my time doing charity work.”
Jack shook his head. “You are too much!”
“You love me.”
“You are my best friend.” Jack blew a kiss at me.
I “caught” it. “Love you too. Ok, go stand over there. Stand up straight. Shoulders up, head back, walk with purpose! Count those steps! One two three four, five six seven eight!”
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Captions are fictional.