Chapter 64

Slightly out of breath by the time I jogged back to Men’s Apparel, I set up the ground rules, taking in hefty doses of oxygen between words as I led Patrick to the place we would start. “Okay. We can’t open sealed plastic or take underwear off the hangers. So, either Jefferson or Calvin go commando, or we choose their drawers from the underpants mannequins on display.” My hand was on the plastic waist of a dummy all ass, hips, and crotch.

“Gotcha.”

Patrick, like a general inspecting his nearly naked troops, walked up and down the row of them, studying fabrics, colors, and impressive fake packages. One half-body form was wearing light blue boxers, another black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. A third had on a pair of tighty-whities, the fourth a red thong.

“The thong is mine,” I called out. “Jefferson wanted to know about thongs.”

Patrick laughed. “He did?”