Chapter 3: Day 3, Chests Touch
Mondays are food collecting days in downtown Barefoot Beach. I eat breakfast, read the latest release of the Barefoot Beach Telegraph, a local newspaper, in my white boxer-briefs, drink a cup of straight coffee, and get a shower. Following the warm spray, I dress in a pair of shorts, sandals, and a canary yellow tight T-shirt, which shows off my nicely crafted pecs for downtown queer guys to ogle, crave, and want to touch.
The bungalow at 436 Buoy Way is walking distance from downtown Barefoot Beach. There is no reason for a bike, moped, or golf cart to use, although I have all three nestled at the bungalow. The walk is less than a mile long and the day is strikingly beautiful.
Barefoot Beach Market is a giant open cabana with ethnic sellers of Floridian f
