The Classy Buffet Treat

Lunch today, buffet restaurant. Full of families. Group of five comes in, mother, father, handsome neo-pubertal boy and two young girls. Boy wears pristine white shorts that extend down to his knees. Tanned, hairless legs. Athletic shoes with white ankle socks. Short-sleeve sport shirt with stripes in alternating colors of brown, and beige. Shirt-tail not tucked in, yet the whole outfit looked quite classy.



The white shorts were the focal point, of course. Really dressy. Sharply pleated as if Mom had ironed them.

Every time he went back to the buffet, the pants displayed a bulge at the bottom of his groin. Not a boner, not even the outline of a softie. It was a rounded lump at the bottom of the fly, like having a medium-size potato lengthwise in his pants. The "potato" didn't move, didn't grow, didn't stick out. It just remained where it was, constantly highlighted by those lovely white dress shorts as the guy walked.

We quietly argued about whether he'd climbed Mount Jackoff yet. My partner said no. I said yes, because I felt there was a confident glow about the guy that couldn't be explained any other way.

Needless to say, the young gentleman made our day.

Anonymous