When he removed his jeans, he turned his back to Lyon and arched it slightly. He did it on purpose to see how Lyon would react to his new underwear. Although Lyon was straight, he'd always said-joking around, of course-Treston's ass was as good as any woman's ass. Treston knew the other competitive gay guys wouldn't say anything if he looked too good in his see-through underwear; they tended to be catty and only complimented him when he looked bad in something. But he could always depend on Lyon for an honest comment. Straight guys didn't have that vicious streak with gay guys.
This time Lyon actually reached over and patted his ass a couple of times. He laughed and said, "You'd better not wear those see-through panties tonight. Chickey will freak, man."
J.D. took one look at Treston's see-through underwear and said, "Whore." A typical reaction from another catty, competitive gay man.
Treston glanced at J.D. and said, "Slut." Then he turned to Lyon and said, "I'm not wearing them in the show. I just like the way they feel. I'll get you a pair if you want."
"No, thanks, buddy," Lyon said. "I prefer boxers."
J.D. rolled his eyes and pulled his dick out of the sock-jock. He couldn't seem to get it in, no matter how hard he tried.
Lyon pulled off his sweat socks and laughed. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: that ass is as good as any woman's." Then he reached over and slapped Treston's ass one more time.
Treston loved the harmless attention from Lyon, mostly because he knew he didn't have to take it seriously. Lyon was happily married and nothing they said to each other went deeper than a silly joke. Lyon even joked around about Treston's ass in front of his wife and she didn't care. And once, briefly, Lyon had mentioned in passing that his wife thought Treston was so cute she said any time Treston felt like doing a three-way with them, she'd love it.
As Treston turned to J.D. so he could help him put his dick into the sock-jock, he smiled and said, "You're so good for my ego, Lyon. I wish I could record you so I could listen to you when I'm depressed."
J.D. pulled the waistband of the sock-jock and said, "You hold it and I'll stretch out the pouch. When I stretch, stuff it into the pouch as much as you can and I'll pack it down myself."
Lyon frowned at what they were doing and said, "Why don't you just get things that fit, J.D.? Wouldn't it make life easier?"
"It's not so simple," J.D. said. "I never know until I get the underwear out of the package. And they don't let you return underwear." He looked between Lyon's legs and said, "Not everyone can have a little dick like yours."
Lyon made a face. He was naked by then, and he spread his legs and glanced down. "My dick's not little. I've been told I'm above average. And my wife never complains about it."
Treston was still holding J.D.'s dick with one hand and pushing his balls into the pouch with the other. "Don't pay attention to him, Lyon," he said. "You have nothing to worry about in that department. J.D.'s just frustrated right now." He shoved the rest of J.D.'s dick into the pouch, patted it, and laughed.
When he saw J.D.'s dick actually did fit into the tight little pouch, he turned back to his locker and reached inside his backpack for the personally autographed photo Chad Pratt had given him. He set it out right in front of both J.D. and Lyon, but they were both so consumed with getting ready for the show they didn't notice it right away. He even pushed it toward the edge and let it fall over on purpose. But they still didn't notice it. When he finally bent down to pick it up, Lyon poked him in the ass with his knee and he fell sideways.
"I'm sorry, man," Lyon said, reaching down to help him up. "I didn't mean to poke you so hard."
He grabbed Lyon's hand and glanced at his hairy legs. The straight male strippers didn't shave their legs like the gay male strippers, and they often got more attention from the customers because of this. Treston wondered if he should stop shaving his body, but then he dismissed the thought because he liked being smooth all over. He wasn't all that hairy to begin with, and he felt cleaner and fresher when he was smooth.
When Lyon pulled Treston up, he noticed the photo of Chad in his other hand. "What's that?"
Treston stood up and shrugged. He pressed the photo to his chest, smiled, and said, "Oh, it's nothing really important. Just a personally autographed photo from Chad Pratt. I thought I might hang it inside my locker." He acted nonchalant, as if he pasted a photo of Chad Pratt to his door every day of the week.
Lyon and J.D. exchanged a quick glance. A few of the other guys near them stopped to listen.
As Treston reached into his backpack for tape, Lyon said, "Yeah, right. You've got a personally autographed photo from Chad Pratt and I've got one from Prince Harry."