Thongs

"If you like them, why don't you wear them - as underpants, I mean?" Stephanie asked.

"They're not underpants," Brad said.

"They can be, if you want them to be."

"They're jockstraps."

"They could also be used as underpants."

Brad hesitated. He was embarrassed to admit the truth, but, he realized, if anyone would understand him, Stephanie would. "Besides, I'd be too embarrassed to buy a dozen of them at a time."

"Why?" Stephanie challenged. "What difference does it make if you buy one or twelve at a time?"

"Buying more than one at a time would look funny."

"No, it wouldn't."

"Yes, it would. The cashier would wonder why the hell I'm buying a dozen athletic supporters."

"You could say you're buying them for your swim team or - "

"I'd be too embarrassed."

"You want me to buy the damned things for you?"

Brad's eyebrows rose. "Would you?"

"Sure. Why not?"

He smiled. Hugging her close, he kissed her. "You're a peach!"

She smiled up at him. "I want my man to be comfortable. Besides, I'll like the way your bare ass will be framed by the elastic waistband and the bands that run around your thighs, close to your crotch." Rick blushed. "Thanks."

"I'll like the way the pouch will display your cock and balls, too."

His blush deepened.

The cashier's eyes widened when she saw the number of athletic supporters that Stephanie placed on the checkout's conveyor belt. The cashier was a young woman - a teen, really - a blue-eyed blonde, whose hair was pulled back from her pretty face and worn in a ponytail. A name badge on her blouse identified her as Sandy.

Stephanie smiled at the young woman's reaction. "That's quite a few jockstraps, isn't it?" she asked.

"I'll say," Sandy replied, smiling slightly.

"My boyfriend prefers them to boxers or briefs," Stephanie explained.