Work Text:
“I am not wearing that,” Hank says.
“You are if you were serious about coming to the pool with me and swimming laps,” Stella replies.
“No.”
“There’s a dress code. You can not wear jeans, nor can you wear board shorts.”
“But, nuthuggers are fine?”
“It’s just a Speedo.”
Hank plucks the black Speedo from Stella’s hand with two fingers and holds it up in front of his face, a look of distaste on his face. “Men aren’t meant to wear panties,” he says.
“You can be highly dramatic at times. No Speedo, no pool.”
He groans, unzips his pants and strips naked. He pulls the tight-fighting swimsuit on and dances around uncomfortably. No matter how he shifts, he feels obscene. Stella is watching him with a slight smile, one that passes for amusement on her.
“I feel gross,” he says.
She reaches out and stills his wiggling hips. She slides one hand into the front of the Speedo and under his balls. He gives a little yelp and moves up on his toes as she adjusts his dick and then takes her hand out of the swimsuit and tips her head to check her work.
“Better?” she asks.
“I guess. Feel free to keep adjusting though if you’re unhappy with it.”
She gives him a pat on the front of the swimsuit and his dick twitches. “Meet me downstairs when you’re ready,” she says.
He tugs on the front of his swimsuit as she leaves and wiggles again, mumbling under his breath. “Stupid man panties.”
The End