hot.

They looked like high school kids. Young, toned, fit and tanned. The girl had classic blonde-hair, blue-eyed beauty, with long, straight golden locks and perfect, flawless skin. She was wearing a tight white tank top and a skimpy little pair of snug red knit shorts that showed off every curve of her perfect, tight little ass and perky tits.

Her boyfriend was every bit the piece of eye candy. He was a tall, thick, broad-shouldered hunk, with shaggy brown hair and square jaw. He too had crystal blue eyes and the most devilishly handsome dimples. He was wearing loose cargo shorts with a form-fitted button down shirt that accentuated his strong pecks and full, round, bulging biceps. My head sort of twisted around on a swivel as they passed by me, trying to give my eyes as much time as possible to soak in the image of this young stud. ‘Probably some football player and his cheerleader girlfriend,’ I thought to myself.

I shook the image of the young stud out of my head and ventured further into the clothing area. Eventually, I found the men’s swimwear. Yikes. Talk about some gawdy-ass clothing. I had to dig through three racks just to find something that didn’t look like it was the national flag of some third-world country. Finally, I found a pair of plain blue trunks in my size. Good enough. I grabbed them and headed out.

As I was clearing the section, it dawned on me that I should probably try the trunks on, just to be sure they fit right. So I headed back and found the little row of Wal-Mart fitting rooms. They were really little more than a set of stalls set out in the middle of the clothing section, but at this time of night, I figured what did it matter? There was no one around.

So I went in the first stall and dropped the latch down. The little room was tiny, and there were random articles of clothing strewn all about the floor, and on the little hooks that adorned the walls and back of the door. The mirror on the side wall was cracked, and the little bench, presumable for sitting, was broken and halfway falling off. “Nice,” I mumbled to myself as I set my blue trunks down on the broken bench. I turned and began to unfasten my belt buckle. I dropped my dirty work jeans to my ankles and kicked my feet free. Then I heard a thump against the wall beside me. I realized someone must be in the next fitting stall. ‘What are the odds?’ I asked myself, then resumed my disrobing.

I unbuttoned my shirt and shrugged it off, hanging the smelly white garment over the edge of the door. I was now standing there in just my boxer briefs. I admired my body in the mirror, still pretty proud of my lean physique. I was confident I’d look pretty good in my crappy Wal-Mart swimsuit.

As I leaned over to pull off my underwear, I heard another louder thump behind me, followed by a stifled giggle. I turned quickly and stared at the wall to the side of my little stall, as if I’d be able to see something through the beige wood. Shrugging it off, I went ahead and removed my underwear. I took a moment to admire the reflection of my plump cock in the mirror. I wasn’t the most well-hung guy around, but on my body, it