“Hey Michael, it’s Jack.”He stumbled at first, then said hey and spoke about nothing. Family, weather, etc. Then I was silent and asked, “Michael, what’s going on? Why are you calling?” “Dude, I am flying through LA, had a layover, and thought I would say hey!” His hotel was fairly close and asked to meet me for coffee.I reluctantly agreed. Initially, I didn’t care what I looked like, but I do live in boys town, so I put on some white Universal Gym Shorts, my same worn out jock strap, a V neck Black T-shirt and black ball cap. When I got there I planned to say ‘Yes, Michael, your former high school big brother and best friend is a cock loving, cum drinking, muscle worshipping fag!” and walk out.I walked in and he was to the side reading a magazine in the gay coffeehouse. He looked up, smiled, and I melted. He looked even hotter than before. It had been five years, but he was still fit, bulked up, but his dimples and smile said that maybe I should hear him out. He went in for a hug. As I removed the last of the polish from the tank I saw a pair of shapely legs appear under a short skirt and ending in knee high vinyl boots walk up the driveway. I sat up straight and realized it was just Robin from two doors down returning from Summer school. I could not believe how much she had matured in just a few short years. At sixteen she could easily pass for a college student in her twenties. Her family had moved into the neighborhood shortly after mine and despite our age differences we became great friends much to the dismay of her parents. Her stopping by on the way home had become a regular routine for her. She would grab a Coke from the fridge, take a smoke from my pack on the workbench and light it. Then planting her firm bottom on one of the old bar stools against the bench, we would spend ten to fifteen minutes or so chatting about whatever was on her mind, mostly questions about sex. As she talked she would swivel in her seat, allowing brief glimpses up her short.
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