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.