Justin opened the door wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. He was barefoot.
"Dude, where's Jeff?" Bill demanded.
Justin looked confused. "Jeff?"
"Jockstrap boy, you were supposed to return him two weeks ago?"
"Oh, yeah, I was. Sorry, I forgot."
"Well, go get him."
Justin unbuttoned his fly.
"You're still wearing him."
"Yeah, 24/7 for the best four weeks of my life."
"Didn't you even wash him?"
"Well, you didn't. Besides, he's sort of self-cleaning. At least he got washed when I showered or swam. You know I signed us up for a tri-athalon.
"Huh?"
Justin reluctantly pulled Jeff down his thighs, past his calves and over his feet.
"So how long will it take him to change back?"
"Don't know. Won't know until after today's game, now Bill also needs a pair of shoes, can you do cleats, Justin?" Bill grabbed Jeff and shoved him into his front pocket. In that cramped space there was no way for Jeff to change.
Jeff was only vaguely aware as he felt the cold air around him, he had already swallowed six loads today and was pretty much hammered.
"Hm, I never tried, but maybe." He scrunched his face concentrating on Bill's feet and football cleats.
Bill reached down to pick up the newly transformed Justin, and smiled. He put Justin in his gym bag, and headed to the gym.