“Any bets on who wins this one?” I challenged Beast.“Mitch’s got it,” he boasted.“I got Woody,” What’s the bet?”“You wash my Chevy...if Mitch wins. I wash your Ford if Woody wins.”“I like that,” I smiled. “I like it hand washed, and don’t forget the interior.”Mikey choked back a hard laugh at the word ‘interior.’ I smacked his arm lightly to keep him from laughing out loud. He covered his mouth and held it in best he could.“You got this, Mitch!” Beast called out.I folded my arms over my chest and. I didn't even realized what I was doing when I licked my lips, but henoticed it. "Guess I must look tasty, huh whiteboy?" Jay stepped up to me andgrabbed my right wrist. He pulled my hand to his crotch and rubbed itagainst the growing log in his shorts. "Take off your shirt, whiteboy."It wasn't a request and I looked into his eyes for a second, beforedropping my gaze. In a daze, I obeyed, pulling my polo shirt over my headand dropping it on the floor. "That's right, whiteboy. Show me my. More

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