“Pants too,” came the order from bad-cop. Adding ominously: “And you don’t want to make me take them off for you.”
Excruciatingly embarrassing as it was to reveal myself to these younger, bigger and, certainly in the case of Curtis, more intimidating men; I peeled of my boxers and stood before them; resisting the urge to cup my hands over my privates. At that stage -despite Fiona’s insistence to the contrary- I still considered myself at least average in the size department, if not a bit above and on that score at least I felt I had nothing to be ashamed of.
“Will you look at this p***y, Oscar?” For the first time, Curtis laughed – and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “He’s standing there as if he’s proud of that white nubbin dangling from his puny little balls.”
“That’s enough, Curtis. Just
