A Little Tartan

"Here is an example of micro kilting. Bring in the model. G has agreed to model for us today."

G looks handsome standing in the doorway, like a... um... Scottish gladiator.

"Come stand here," I say.

G looks coy, but gorgeous, dressed in nothing but the micro pleated, dark green tartan and leather sandals.

"He's well built," says the buyer.

"Chest waxed, stomach waxed. Back of my hand to my face. "Back too, of course," I whisper. G blushes. "Legs left o'natural. Feel the difference. You can touch him."

"He's got nice legs," says the buyer.

"Do you like the way it drapes on the tops of his thighs?"

"Not much underneath..."

"No. see. Everything right there, with this length of hem. Hold still, G. Don't flinch. We're not going to..."

Like that?

"Yes. You can stroke it, if you want."

G flinches.

"I meant the material."

"Very impressive."

G smiles.

"Yes, he was chosen for that reason. Greek. Thick thighs. You see minimal strapping under neath."

"Jockstrap?"

"Yes."

"Is the kilt long enough, if he's working it?"

"That's kind of the point. It doesn't hurt to see a little flesh, if your customer is working it."