“I don’t think so, Jason. But I’m not complaining.”
* * * *
A hunky Italian notices that Jason and Dillon stand at the end of the shelf pathway and have too many clothes on. Jason takes in his bulky and muscular, six-two frame, thick head of black hair, nicely trimmed beard, his hairy and lined abs, large pink nipples, and…the seven inches of uncut cock drooping between his athletic legs. He walks up to the two men, uncontrollably swings his goods to the left and the right, and introduces himself.
“I’m Antonio Mecinti. You’re the two men next door, right?”
Jason places Antonio in his early thirties, probably a professional executive at an ad agency or a high-end money manager. Up close, the guy has beautiful dimples half concealed under his beard, and sports flecks of green in his brown eyes. Jason shakes the Italian’s hand: firm grip, swift movement, heavy eye contact.