How did she guess that I was just thinking the same thing? Greg has a body that I’d love to just run my hands over for hours. I don’t know how I can manage it, but I want to still be friends with him in summer, and to watch him at the beach in just a pair of board-shorts, or better still, Speedos.
Of course, why he’d want to parade in front of a gay guy dressed like that is beyond me. Oh, well, that’s what fantasies are for.
It would be easier if he wasn’t such a good guy, even apart from his looks. I feel guilty about desiring him, when it’s never going to be reciprocated. It’s almost like I’m using him….
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