New Duds

Jon's thoughts wandered aimlessly as he perched atop the washing machine in his birthday suit. The mundane task of laundry had given him ample time to ponder his next move. He'd already indulged in a wild dance and cleaned up a bit, but what to do while he waited for his clothes to wash?

Suddenly, his wandering mind was interrupted by the gaze of several men, six or seven in fact, who appeared to be waiting for their own laundry. Were they staring at him? He couldn't be sure, but the suggestion that they were made him uneasy. After all, this was Girl World - why would gay men come here?

One of the men spoke up, "If you don't have anything else to wear we have a few outfits you could wear upstairs." A few of the others seemed to bristle at the suggestion, but Jon considered it. He had a perfectly good outfit being washed, but why not expand his wardrobe? And he was, after all, currently naked.

He hopped off the washing machine, his eyes drawn to the man who had made the offer. As they ascended the stairs, the man kept a firm hand on Jon's bare buttocks, guiding him with a gentle touch. It was a surprising display of thoughtfulness, one that stood in stark contrast to Jon's previous experiences with frat boys. When had frat boys gotten so thoughtful? In his previous experience they'd been selfish, beer swigging party animals who only wanted one thing: sex. These specimens, on the other hand, completely broke the stereotype.

As they climbed, Jon's mind drifted back to his encounter in the den. The boy had been messy, yes, but also a perfect gentleman. He had shown Jon nothing but kindness and generosity, even in the face of Jon's obsessive need for cleanliness. And what about the mess? Jon couldn't quite recall where it had come from.

His reverie was broken as the man behind him squeezed his bottom and pushed him into a room. Jon giggled as he stumbled on his high heels. He was just so clumsy sometimes. Thankfully, the boy came up from behind and grabbed Jon's chest, steadying Jon's wobbling with a thrusting groin. There was something hard in the boy's pants that was sticking into Jon's bum-cheeks. Jon pushed his ass back against the boy to acknowledge the boy's effort in keeping him upright. The kindness of these boys seemed unending. The space was stark and minimalist, save for a large mirror on one wall and a neatly folded bundle of clothing in the center of the floor. He gave the boy a final grind, whispered his thanks, then clicked his way to the bundle.

"We thought, since you've been so helpful," the boy behind him muttered, "that you might like these clothes."

As Jon unfolded and examined the outfit in his hands, he could see the wisdom in the boy's words. The outfit he was holding was...