A quick, maybe strange idea I had. I had planned to go on longer than three entries, but I got distracted. Story of my life. -B.
A bathroom stall. An irrational hardon. → A whimper. A body bent over and white speedos down around his ankles. A condom wrapper stuck to the bottom of his flip-flops.
A business meeting. A layover. A third gin and tonic. → Hands bound with a silk tie. An ass reddened with the outline of a big hand. “Yes, sir.” “No, sir.” “More, sir.”
A pair of cotton briefs, worn and re-worn. Traded and seeded. Threadbare with use. → A package opened with shaking hands. Its contents pulled out and pulled up over a new set of hips. A smell that fills the room. A slow, careful addition to its legacy.