By Rubbag
I had said yes to Josh, and that’s how I found myself standing beside him the next night trying to be cool but so glad the docks are deserted in the evening. They may be empty, but the summer nights are short and I’m still aware of how much we stand out in the late twilight. Who could miss us, two muscle jocks trying to look as if they’re hangin. Both dressed the same, both in white, both looking almost naked in their under armour tights and skin top, every muscle showing as they try to be so casual about it.
“How long do we wait, Josh?”
“Eh?” He doesn’t hear me, he’s too distracted by his crotch, trying to rub it but getting nowhere.
“Josh!”
“Soz … what did you?” he says, a little dazed, the cell phone still in one hand.
“How long?”
“I don’t know, five, ten minutes, it depends on …”