Locker Room Tales by: Lilith Langtree How does Ron explain why his legs are shaved to his best friend? The truth is often the best answer.

Author's Note: It's a quick one shot idea that came into my head. I might do more locker room stories if an idea arises, but nothing is planned. This is unedited.

The Locker Room

I admit I was a little nervous when I met up with James at the gym for our Monday workout. Instead of going with the traditional I hope he doesn’t look route, I thought about just being totally up front. So after steeling my nerve I dropped my pants and rubbed my inner thigh a little.

“Damn razor burn.”

As semi-planned, he looked over at me and then down at where I was rubbing.

“Uh… Ron, your legs are shaved. Is there something you want to tell me before I change out of my stuff?”

I gave him a glare. “I’m not gay. It’s something that Tammy wanted me to try.”

He gifted me with doubtful eyes.

“Seriously. We trade off sexual fantasies every weekend. This week hers was for me to do this.”

James poked at the inside of his cheek with his tongue for a moment, looked down at my legs and then back up at me. “Uh-huh.”

“You’re an ass,” I said with a moderate amount of humor. “Are you telling me Joyce never asks for anything out of the ordinary?”

He shrugged. “Playing Stormtrooper Guard and Princess Leia is a little more normal than shaving your legs, dude. We can take off our costumes after it’s over, and you still get razor burn.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Hold on… Stormtrooper Guard? You actually have sex with all that armor on?”

“Pieces come off. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“It doesn’t chafe?”

“Nah. The worst part is the helmet and that gets tossed after Princess Leia gets tied up.”

“Ah. Well, whatever keeps the marriage alive is A-okay in my book. Consenting adults and all that PC crap too.”

He nodded. “That’s the attitude.”

We continue to get ready. I change into my bike shorts and tank top that I usually wear to work out in. Oddly enough, the tightness of the shorts felt really nice for once, and they didn’t rip out my leg hair when I put them on, since there wasn’t any there to begin with.

“So, should I expect you in panties next weekend?” asked James. He seemed totally serious, but that was a part of his natural humor. He was the perfect straight man.

I go along with the joke. “I’m thinking about some of those high hip French cut ones.”

He nodded. “The kind with the lace along the outside? Good choice. I’m a Tanga cut myself.”

James went about slipping his shoes on without the traditional smirk he usually gives at the end, when we wear a joke out.

“Uh… I was kidding about the French cut panties,” I said.

Looking up, he took it all in stride. “That’s too bad. I think they’d look good on you.”

I nervously licked my lips and turned toward him. “You weren’t joking about that were you?”

Once he tied off his shoes, he stood and finally gave me a knowing smirk. “I never did say who was Princess Leia and who was the Stormtrooper; did I?”

With that, he grabbed his towel and headed out to the gym.

I couldn’t get the mental image of him wearing that stupid gold slave bikini out of my head for the rest of the night. I think it was the hair on his legs that didn’t look right in my mental picture of the scene. He definitely needed to shave his legs.