Randy was just entering a dream where Ryan was his talking jockstrap. Ryan was bitching about being marked, sealed in rubber, pierced with grommets - Randy gripped his tented pouch.
"Ran-dee! Ran-dee!" Shouted a contralto female voice. Ryan and Randy's mother said firmly, " Get up, Randy, you need to mow the lawn, before it gets too hot. "
Randy breathed out, and focused on math tables. He had a raging boner, and wanted it deflated before anyone saw him. Maybe a built in cock ring wasn't a good idea after all.
He remembered and said, "Wait Ryan's supposed to mow the lawn, not me!"
" Well, Ryan is spending the weekend at one of his buddy's cabins. And the lawn needs mowing, so you're drafted. "
Randy sighed. He sat up with his back to the door. He actually enjoyed mowing. He'd wear only short shorts over his new jockstrap, and a pair of sneakers. Ostensibly, he'd work on his tan while he mowed, but really he'd be showing off his body and bulge to the neighborhood.
Carefully, he selected a torn pair of onionskin nylon running shorts. They were just oh so revealing. Ryan cursed, those were his old shorts from when he was on the middle school track team. He wondered when Randy had appropriated them.
Randy looked at the new power mower, but instead selected the old hand mower.Ryan wondered if it still worked, as Randy swept off the cobwebs. He liked and adjusted it, and soon was pushing it around the backyard. At first, Ryan thought Randy was an idiot. The sun hot the front yard first, so he always started in the front.
"Something wrong with the power mower?" Mother shouted through a window.
"Nah, the hand one gives me a better workout."
"All right then," a pause, then, " Ryan always starts in the front, why are you starting in the back? "
"I'm not Ryan!" he shouted back, then he added, " I want to do the front last, when the sun is brightest to work on my tan. "
"Okay," she said with a sigh, and closed the window.
Then Randy said to himself, "Besides it's only 6 am, and my audience of cock watchers won't be out until 8 or later, when I'll start on the front yard. By then I should be real sweaty." He chuckled . Ryan sighed. As Randy pushed the old hand mower, Ryan began to feel trickles of sweat. By eight, Ryan was sure he'd be soaked.