Sandbox: “Choices”

Stephen stood surrounded by clothes of every description, the scent of cedar and leather wafting through the closet. He flipped through a few shirts, considering what he was going to wear. Tonight was it. He was going to meet the parents. What the fuck had he been thinking? It was Friday night. Six months ago he would have been filling his pocket with condoms, slithering into his tightest pair of club pants and smearing body glitter over his hairless torso in preparation for a Friday night sexual safari. But no! His life had shifted radically. Now his Friday night was meeting his lover’s parents.

He wanted to rebel. To lace, pin, pull and tug on his favorite dance club outfit and say fuck it to all of it. The responsibility, the caring, having someone that he needed to check in with, just toss it all. He’d fought falling in love, fought it tooth and well-manicured nail. He hadn’t been looking for love, he was the poster boy for the stereotypical gay slut who has been fucked more times than most men had been on dates. With a soft sigh, he shook his head in disbelief as he selected a crisp blue cotton shirt that made the aqua in his eye float to the surface. Flipping through the choices, he picked a pair of light gray pants, adding a black belt and some matching socks, carried his selections from the closet and laid them all carefully on the bed.

Looking over his choices, he slid off his boyfriend’s oversized white T-shirt and the nondescript boxer briefs he was wearing, and then started pawing through his underwear drawer. He pulled out several choices, dropping them back into the drawer with a shake of his head. As his digging progressed to a back corner, his fingertips hit a different texture. Recognizing it immediately, Stephen pulled out the black lycra jockstrap and grinned. After all, he reasoned, there was no reason to give up everything from his former life. Threading his taut legs through the straps, he reached into the pouch and adjusted his goods until everything was comfortably in place.

He twirled in front of the closet’s full-length mirror, confirming his body was still the perfect pale, lithe foil for the black undergarment. He sashayed back to the bed and donned the clothes he’d selected, critical of each detail. Once satisfied, he strolled into the bathroom, to spend the next 20 minutes achieving the ‘just rolled out of bed’ look he was going for with his hair.

Standing at the closet doorway, Stephen surveyed his shoe collection. He was trying to select the perfect pair, when he felt a pair of strong hands curled around his waist.

“Stop it! I’m almost dressed,” whined Stephen.

Dan pressed his mouth against the back of Stephen’s neck, kissed it softly and then nipped at this neck.

“We have 30 minutes…”

Stephen felt the warmth flow through his system, his knees weaken and his heart race with his lover’s touch. As he surrendered to the sensuous touches, he remembered why he’d agreed to meet the in-laws.

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