Blair put an arm around me. "Being Steve Blanchard's son has its perks, huh?"

"How-how could you live in the Beta Kappa house after living here?" I finally managed to stammer out. "My parents' whole house could fit in your bedroom."

Blair sparked a joint and passed it to me. "A bit of an ex aggeration, which I've noticed you're prone to. It's rather endearing, though, my friend." He shrugged. "I've been in boarding schools, too, you know, so having a cubicle of a room isn't a big deal to me. And besides, Mom's house in London is pretty small. All this"-he made a sweeping motion with his arms, taking in the house and the grounds"overwhelms me a bit from time to time. A rather vulgar and ostentatious display of wealth, as my mother would say."

"Yeah, well, I could learn to like it." I took a deep hit and passed the joint.

"Eh." He made a face. "It's not as much fun as it looks. When Dad's here"-he pointed to the wall that ran around the grounds-"there's always the paparazzi outside the gates, or hanging in the trees trying to get pictures. That sucks." He laughed. "I used to moon them every once in a while, just to see if they'd print it since I was underage. They didn't-because Dad would have charged them with kiddie porn." He sighed. "Ah, the lifestyles of the rich and famous aren't what they're cracked up to be, are they?"

We stayed up late, smoking another joint and drinking a bottle of wine from his father's wine cellar-he told me the name and year, but it meant nothing to me-before falling into bed together. When he told me we'd both sleep in his room, I wondered if this was the night it would happenbut it didn't. Blair stripped down to his black Versace underwear, climbed into bed and rolled over onto his side. I lay there for a while, listening to him breathe, watching his back and wanting so desperately to reach out and touch him, to put my arms around him, cuddle up with him. Instead, I turned onto my side with my back to him and fell into a restless sleep.

"I think we're going to have a party tonight," Blair said, waking me up the next morning with a cup of coffee and a toasted bagel smeared with cream cheese. He'd already showered and put on a pair of shorts.

I sat up and took a bite of the bagel. "A party?"

"Yeah." He smiled at me. "I can get my dad's caterer to deliver some food and liquor, and I can call up some people I know-we can have an impromptu pool party. Swim suits required." He leered at me. "I have a bikini you can borrow. Besides, you need to meet some gay people, I think."

"A bikini?" I stared at him. "Oh, no, Blair, I don't think-"

"Gay or bi or confused or whatever it is you are, you need to stop being ashamed of your body," he said, getting up and opening the French doors. Bright sunshine spilled in, a few wispy clouds danced slowly across an azure blue sky. "It's a perfect day for a pool party-and if you don't wear a bikini, you'll be the only one. Finish your food and get out of bed."

I did as I was told, gulping down the bagel in a few bites and washing it down with the coffee, which was good and strong. A little nervously, I got out of the bed. He looked at me critically. "Nice." He smiled. "The tan line needs work-but I know what we can do about that."

"What's wrong with it?" I asked, looking down at my legs.

"Your tan line stops about an inch or so above your knees." He shook his head. "That's a very Kansas-boy tan line. But then again," he folded his arms, raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side, "that's exactly who you should be at the party."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Oh, yes." He walked over to a dresser, pulled open a drawer and started rummaging through it. He pulled out a bright red bathing suit and placed it on top of the dresser. He started humming as he went through the drawer, and eventually two other suits-one yellow, one pale bluejoined the red one. He turned and tossed them to me. "Try these on."

I caught them and put them down on the bed. There didn't seem to be much material for any of them. "Um, I don't know-"

"Honey, let me explain something to you once and for all about being gay." He rolled his eyes. "Just call me Obiwan." He laughed. "Oh, I crack myself up. The most important thing about being a gay man-and a good one-that most gay men never seem to understand is"-he walked over to me, put a hand on my shoulder, and leaned in, adding in a whisper-"it's all in the marketing."

"Huh?" He wasn't making any sense to me.

He reached over and picked up the red bikini. "Here, try this one on." He gave me a wicked grin. "Do you want me to look away?"

I blushed. "No," I said, trying to sound defiant. "You can look all you want."

"In that case"-he took a few steps away from me and folded his arms-"go for it, prairie boy."

I slid my underwear down, stepping out of it and standing in front of him stark naked. I reached for the pale blue pair, making sure he could see my naked ass as I bent over the bed. I stepped into them and pulled them up. They were not my size; I'm bigger than Blair-but even on Blair, they wouldn't have covered a whole hell of a lot. I somehow managed to tuck my cock and my balls inside the little triangle of fabric, and turned back to him. "Well?"

"We're going to need to trim your pubic hair for sure," he said, stepping close. "Turn around, let me see your ass." I obliged, catching a glimpse of myself in the full mirror on the wall beside the bed. I blushed again-surely he couldn't want me to go out in front of people wearing something this revealing-but I stood there for a moment as he adjusted the suit over my ass, I started to see myself in a completely different way. The suit was sexy; and while I'd never really given a lot of thought to my cock size, the pale blue made it look rather large. Nothing as large as Rory Armagh's-he was practically deformed-but I kind of had to smile. I raised my arms and flexed my biceps.

Yeah, I looked hot.

But I could also see what he meant about my tan line and my pubic hair. Hair was coming out of the suit on every side, and it looked, well, sloppy. And the tan line looked ridiculous in this suit. I'd always worn long shorts whenever I was swimming or doing anything in the sun, so the skin below my knees was a dark, rich brown. Above my knees was as white as my ass. That skin had never seen the sun, and the skimpy bikini made it very apparent.

"Okay, put on the yellow," he instructed. He walked over to his desk and sat down. He started rolling a joint.

I was a little disappointed that he wasn't going to watch me change-God, how I wanted him to look at me-but I pulled the pale blue suit off. I pulled on the yellow, making the same adjustments in the front as I had before, and then looked over my shoulder at my ass in the mirror. I started adjusting the backside. "Jesus, I have a big ass," I said aloud.

"You have a hot ass." Blair finished rolling the joint and looked over at me. "I like the yellow better than the blue."

"The blue made my dick look huge."

"So does the yellow" He lit the joint. "Face it, my love, you have a big dick and a hot ass. Put the red on." I did as he took a hit. Once I had finished adjusting myself, he gave me a big grin. "And we have a winner! Red, my dear, is definitely your color."