Chapter 50

“Well,” I mulled, “he’s nowhere near as tall as Pimo, for one thing. And he’s not as solid.”

“What do you weigh, Pimo?” Bobby demanded.

“About three hundred pounds, I guess,” he said.

“Give or take,” Greg added.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pimo challenged him.

“Honey, you were over three hundred when we met,” Greg asserted, “and you ain’t been shrinkin’ since then.”

“Three-twenty, then.” Pimo allowed. Greg rolled his eyes but otherwise didn’t rebut.

“Do you think he weighs that much?” Bobby asked me.

“Shit, Bobby, I don’t know.” Pimo was six inches taller than Chris, but Chris had considerably more belly on him. “Maybe. He’s real cute, Bobby, you’re missing my point. But he is pretty big. Kinda like a big football jock that let himself go, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Jason chimed in, “that can be hot on the right guy. One of my exes kinda got like that, but I’d still do him.”

“Which means he has a donkey cock,” Bobby ventured.