Page 55 of S is for SEX

I pointed to the spot. The longer I looked at it, the less it looked like a wine stain. I declared the spot a product of my disaster nonetheless. “There’s a spot right there.”

“I can wash them when I get home,” he said.

You’re taking those jeans off, mister.

I shrugged. “I guess you can, but it’ll stain for sure. I think you’ve only got like thirty minutes, and then Chardonnay stains for good.”

His eyes went wide. “Really?”

Fuck I don’t know, but it sounds good.

“It’s a well-known wine fact. Just uhhm. I’ll grab you some shorts. I’ve got a few large pair of swishy shorts I wear around the house. You can wear one of them until they’re clean.”

“Okay,” he said.

I did a mental fist pump and ran to my room. A moment later I had returned with the shorts.

I handed them to him. “Here.”

“Where do you want me to change?”

You can take them off right there.

“In the bathroom?”

“Okay.”

He came out of the bathroom in a matter of seconds, the shorts clinging to his muscular thighs and shapely ass like a thick layer of shiny blue paint. In the front, a prominent bulge reminded me of why I’d spilled the wine in the first place.

I guess they’re not big enough. Oh darn.

“They’re kind of…” He tugged down on the front of the shorts. “Small.”

“They’re as big as I’ve got.” They weren’t, but it sounded good.

I walked in his direction, my eyes shifting between his abs and his bulge as I approached. I held my hand out. “It should just be an hour or so to wash and dry them.”

An hour with him wearing my tiny silk shorts was going to be nothing short of heaven. I carried the clothes to the laundry, sprayed them with stain remover, and placed them in the wash. I rushed back into the living room, eager to see my tiny shorts wearing soon-to-be sexual partner.

Sitting on the loveseat with his legs crossed, he looked like he belonged in a Saturday Night Live skit. I fought against the urge to laugh and sat down at his side. “Sorry I ruined your dinner.”

He smiled a little, but it wasn’t very convincing. “I was getting full anyway.”

I studied his long muscular legs and quickly realized they were hairless. Surprised that I had never noticed before, but intrigued that he appeared to shave his legs, I stared for a moment just to be sure.

Yep. Sans hair.

“Do you shave your legs?”

“Yeah. I really don’t like hair – other than on my head. Does it bother you?”

It did everything but bother me. It explained his hairless torso. I gazed at his legs. I wanted to caress them, squeezing his bulging thigh muscles in my dainty little hands as I worked my way up to his stiff cock.

“No. Uhhm. Not at all. I uhhm. I think it’s sexy.”

“Really?”

My eyes moved to his shorts.

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