His birthday came just after Labor Day, so that
his senior year in high school had already begun
when he attained his eighteenth year and the
status of legal adulthood, with the no longer
questionable consent that you are his boyfriend, no
matter what prejudiced prudes and haters think
because you are two years older, already in college.
Now, after another record breaking win, he---naked,
shower clean and fluffy-towel dry . . . and engorged,
he puts on a pair of sky-blue, thigh-high socks and,
taking a rather provocative posture on your bed,
silently offers you his body's entire intimacy---at
either of the entrances, or upon the contoured, tanned
surface; or, if you like, beneath the softness of the
fabric of those high socks that sheathe his rather agile
legs, feet and toes. Soon, more than his birthday will
have come . . .
J-Called