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Mark smoothed his shirt in his modest St. Louis apartment, a flutter of anticipation in his chest. At 30, he was settling into a new city, a new job at an accounting firm, and tonight, a new social venture. David and Nathan, two guys he’d met at the Jewish Community Center pool, had invited him to their Passover Seder. He grabbed a bottle of kosher wine, checked the Central West End address, and stepped into the balmy April night.
The JCC pool was Mark’s sanctuary, where he swam laps to unwind. That’s where he’d run into David and Nathan—both undeniably handsome, David with his chiseled features and quick wit, Nathan with soulful eyes and a calm presence. After a swim, they’d chatted about their swimwear. Mark noticed their sleek Speedo briefs, a stark contrast to his plain trunks. “Those are sharp,” he’d said, genuinely impressed. They’d grinned and mentioned their friend Sam’s shop, Briefs, Speedos, and Toys, in the Central West End. The conversation had shifted to Passover, and when Mark admitted he had no plans, David didn’t hesitate. “Join us for our Seder. It’s just friends, good food.” Mark, hungry for connection, agreed.
David and Nathan’s rowhouse radiated warmth as Mark arrived. The Central West End hummed with spring—blooming trees, faint music from nearby bars. Nathan greeted him at the door, his smile disarming. “Mark! Come on in.” David appeared with a wine glass, ushering him into a lively living room. About ten guys, all in their early 30s, mingled around a table laden with matzo, charoset, and Manischewitz. The air smelled of brisket and rosemary. Mark didn’t realize at first, but the crowd was all men—stylish, fit, and exuding a tight-knit vibe.
“Guys, this is Mark,” David called out. Eyes turned his way, warm but curious. Sam, with tousled curls and a cheeky grin, handed him a glass of wine. “Welcome to the madness,” he said, his tone playful. Mark smiled, easing into the group. They were a mix—Sam ran Briefs, Speedos, and Toys; Eli was a graphic designer; Jonah taught yoga. They asked about his move, his job, his swim routine, making him feel instantly included. Mark, straight as far as he’d always known, didn’t clock that this was an all-queer gathering, even though David and Nathan had mentioned being partners.
The Seder kicked off with a relaxed energy. David led, reading from the Haggadah, while Nathan passed plates of gefilte fish. Mark followed along, drawn into the ritual’s rhythm. By the second cup of wine, his shoulders loosened, and laughter filled the room. The guys were welcoming, tossing around jokes about maror and Moses. “You swim laps daily?” Jonah asked, his eyes glinting. “That’s dedication.” Mark laughed it off, but the attention felt good.
After the third cup, the mood grew freer. Dinner—brisket, kugel, asparagus—was served, and Mark found himself between Sam and Leo, a guy with a gravelly voice and intense gaze. Sam was chatty, describing his shop in vivid detail. “Briefs, Speedos, and Toys is a vibe,” he said, leaning closer. “We’ve got these micro-briefs—think Andrew Christian, sheer mesh panels, barely-there cuts that hug you just right. Neon colors, metallic fabrics, some with lace-up fronts for that extra tease.” Mark’s eyebrows rose, picturing the daring designs. “Swimwear’s our thing too,” Sam went on. “Speedos with low-rise waists, side ties that practically beg to be untied, or these Brazilian-cut trunks—tight, glossy, showing off every line.” He smirked. “And the toys? Discreet but wild—silicone plugs with remote controls, vibrating cock rings, even these sleek prostate wands that hit every spot. All high-end, curated for fun.”
Mark nodded, a flush creeping up his neck. Leo chimed in, his knee brushing Mark’s under the table. “You’d look good in Sam’s stuff,” he said, his voice low. Across the room, Eli caught Mark’s eye, winking as he sipped his wine. The attention was subtle but constant, each guy testing his reaction. By the fourth cup, Mark was tipsy, the room a warm haze. The Seder paused, and the group sprawled out, conversations intimate and loose.
Mark’s head buzzed—not just from the wine. The guys’ openness, their casual touches, stirred something unfamiliar. Sam was bold, slipping a hand on Mark’s forearm as he pitched a shop visit. “I’ll pick you something spicy—maybe a red mesh brief, or a Speedo with a pouch that leaves nothing to the imagination.” His grin was pure mischief. Leo was quieter, his seduction in the way he leaned in, sharing a story about a late-night swim, his thigh pressed against Mark’s. “You should join me sometime,” he murmured, the invitation heavy with intent.
Jonah pulled Mark into a chat about yoga, his voice silky. “My classes are intense—lots of stretching, sweating. You’d fit right in.” His fingers grazed Mark’s wrist, lingering. Eli, meanwhile, stood close during a refill, his cedar cologne dizzying. “I’m playing a gig soon,” he said, his tone suggestive. “Front row’s yours if you want it.” David and Nathan, the hosts, were subtler, their warmth almost grounding, but their glances—David’s playful, Nathan’s steady—held a quiet invitation.
Mark wasn’t used to this. He’d always dated women, never questioned his wiring, but tonight, the lines blurred. The way Sam’s eyes roamed him, the way Leo’s touch sparked heat, the way Jonah’s laugh made his pulse race—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. He didn’t recoil; he leaned into it, curious, maybe even hungry. The room felt like a safe haven, each guy drawing him in with a different flavor of charm.
As the night wound down, the seduction stayed gentle but relentless. Sam pressed a business card into his hand, whispering, “Come by for that fitting—maybe a toy on the house.” Jonah offered a private yoga session, his smile promising more than poses. Leo suggested a midnight coffee run, his eyes dark with possibility. Eli’s goodbye hug was tight, his breath warm against Mark’s ear. “Don’t be a stranger,” he said. David and Nathan walked him to the door, their hands on his shoulders. “Pool tomorrow?” David asked, his tone light but loaded.
Mark stepped into the cool night, his mind electric. The Central West End glittered, alive with promise. He’d come to St. Louis alone, but tonight, ten men had cracked open a door he hadn’t known existed. Tucking Sam’s card into his pocket, he pictured the shop—those sheer briefs, those daring Speedos, those toys humming with secrets. He didn’t know what he’d do next—visit Sam, try Jonah’s class, find Eli’s gig—but one thing was clear: he wasn’t just making friends. He was stepping into something new, and it felt like freedom.
The JCC pool was Mark’s sanctuary, where he swam laps to unwind. That’s where he’d run into David and Nathan—both undeniably handsome, David with his chiseled features and quick wit, Nathan with soulful eyes and a calm presence. After a swim, they’d chatted about their swimwear. Mark noticed their sleek Speedo briefs, a stark contrast to his plain trunks. “Those are sharp,” he’d said, genuinely impressed. They’d grinned and mentioned their friend Sam’s shop, Briefs, Speedos, and Toys, in the Central West End. The conversation had shifted to Passover, and when Mark admitted he had no plans, David didn’t hesitate. “Join us for our Seder. It’s just friends, good food.” Mark, hungry for connection, agreed.
David and Nathan’s rowhouse radiated warmth as Mark arrived. The Central West End hummed with spring—blooming trees, faint music from nearby bars. Nathan greeted him at the door, his smile disarming. “Mark! Come on in.” David appeared with a wine glass, ushering him into a lively living room. About ten guys, all in their early 30s, mingled around a table laden with matzo, charoset, and Manischewitz. The air smelled of brisket and rosemary. Mark didn’t realize at first, but the crowd was all men—stylish, fit, and exuding a tight-knit vibe.
“Guys, this is Mark,” David called out. Eyes turned his way, warm but curious. Sam, with tousled curls and a cheeky grin, handed him a glass of wine. “Welcome to the madness,” he said, his tone playful. Mark smiled, easing into the group. They were a mix—Sam ran Briefs, Speedos, and Toys; Eli was a graphic designer; Jonah taught yoga. They asked about his move, his job, his swim routine, making him feel instantly included. Mark, straight as far as he’d always known, didn’t clock that this was an all-queer gathering, even though David and Nathan had mentioned being partners.
The Seder kicked off with a relaxed energy. David led, reading from the Haggadah, while Nathan passed plates of gefilte fish. Mark followed along, drawn into the ritual’s rhythm. By the second cup of wine, his shoulders loosened, and laughter filled the room. The guys were welcoming, tossing around jokes about maror and Moses. “You swim laps daily?” Jonah asked, his eyes glinting. “That’s dedication.” Mark laughed it off, but the attention felt good.
After the third cup, the mood grew freer. Dinner—brisket, kugel, asparagus—was served, and Mark found himself between Sam and Leo, a guy with a gravelly voice and intense gaze. Sam was chatty, describing his shop in vivid detail. “Briefs, Speedos, and Toys is a vibe,” he said, leaning closer. “We’ve got these micro-briefs—think Andrew Christian, sheer mesh panels, barely-there cuts that hug you just right. Neon colors, metallic fabrics, some with lace-up fronts for that extra tease.” Mark’s eyebrows rose, picturing the daring designs. “Swimwear’s our thing too,” Sam went on. “Speedos with low-rise waists, side ties that practically beg to be untied, or these Brazilian-cut trunks—tight, glossy, showing off every line.” He smirked. “And the toys? Discreet but wild—silicone plugs with remote controls, vibrating cock rings, even these sleek prostate wands that hit every spot. All high-end, curated for fun.”
Mark nodded, a flush creeping up his neck. Leo chimed in, his knee brushing Mark’s under the table. “You’d look good in Sam’s stuff,” he said, his voice low. Across the room, Eli caught Mark’s eye, winking as he sipped his wine. The attention was subtle but constant, each guy testing his reaction. By the fourth cup, Mark was tipsy, the room a warm haze. The Seder paused, and the group sprawled out, conversations intimate and loose.
Mark’s head buzzed—not just from the wine. The guys’ openness, their casual touches, stirred something unfamiliar. Sam was bold, slipping a hand on Mark’s forearm as he pitched a shop visit. “I’ll pick you something spicy—maybe a red mesh brief, or a Speedo with a pouch that leaves nothing to the imagination.” His grin was pure mischief. Leo was quieter, his seduction in the way he leaned in, sharing a story about a late-night swim, his thigh pressed against Mark’s. “You should join me sometime,” he murmured, the invitation heavy with intent.
Jonah pulled Mark into a chat about yoga, his voice silky. “My classes are intense—lots of stretching, sweating. You’d fit right in.” His fingers grazed Mark’s wrist, lingering. Eli, meanwhile, stood close during a refill, his cedar cologne dizzying. “I’m playing a gig soon,” he said, his tone suggestive. “Front row’s yours if you want it.” David and Nathan, the hosts, were subtler, their warmth almost grounding, but their glances—David’s playful, Nathan’s steady—held a quiet invitation.
Mark wasn’t used to this. He’d always dated women, never questioned his wiring, but tonight, the lines blurred. The way Sam’s eyes roamed him, the way Leo’s touch sparked heat, the way Jonah’s laugh made his pulse race—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. He didn’t recoil; he leaned into it, curious, maybe even hungry. The room felt like a safe haven, each guy drawing him in with a different flavor of charm.
As the night wound down, the seduction stayed gentle but relentless. Sam pressed a business card into his hand, whispering, “Come by for that fitting—maybe a toy on the house.” Jonah offered a private yoga session, his smile promising more than poses. Leo suggested a midnight coffee run, his eyes dark with possibility. Eli’s goodbye hug was tight, his breath warm against Mark’s ear. “Don’t be a stranger,” he said. David and Nathan walked him to the door, their hands on his shoulders. “Pool tomorrow?” David asked, his tone light but loaded.
Mark stepped into the cool night, his mind electric. The Central West End glittered, alive with promise. He’d come to St. Louis alone, but tonight, ten men had cracked open a door he hadn’t known existed. Tucking Sam’s card into his pocket, he pictured the shop—those sheer briefs, those daring Speedos, those toys humming with secrets. He didn’t know what he’d do next—visit Sam, try Jonah’s class, find Eli’s gig—but one thing was clear: he wasn’t just making friends. He was stepping into something new, and it felt like freedom.
