Queer bent bastard

“Hi Chad,” he said, reaching out his hand to shake mine.

“Hi Scotty,” I responded as I shook his hand.

“And I’m not a monster and I’m not a baby,” he corrected Kent with some indignation.

“No, you’re not,” Kent responded as he ruffled his hair and grinned at me. “Now, let’s see what we can do with your bike.”

We spent the next fifteen minutes working on Scotty’s bike, getting the chain back on and then making assorted adjustments to the gears. “There you go bud, it should be okay now,” Kent told him.

Scotty gave us both a big grin. “Thanks guys,” he said as the garage door opened behind his dad’s car, and he was off down the driveway and on his way to Kenny’s.

“Now you know why I had to get home the other day,” Kent said, laughing.

“Yeah, he’s quite the little guy,” I responded with a chuckle.

“Yes he is,” Kent agreed.

“Now, it’s time to hit the pool, catch some rays, and have some fun,” Kent stated with a grin.

We walked back across the garage and through a doorway that led into what I soon learned was the pool house. No sooner were we in there than Kent started to take his clothes off. I just stood there for a second or two before it dawned on me that I should be doing the same thing. Within a couple of minutes, we were both into our swimming trunks and on our way out to the pool. I have to admit though, I did take a few seconds to admire Kent’s body, both before and after he got his trunks on.