Testing, testing

When I was considerably younger than the fine-looking chaps in this photo, this happened to me:


There were only two of them, my friends, I mean, rather than three.


And, truth be told, I rather wanted them to succeed in stripping me.


Of course, I had to put up a credible resistance, for appearance's sake.


"Plausible deniability" I believe is the modern term.


And, after all, they might have been deliberately testing me, to see if I was really, you know, queer.


Their instincts were absolutely correct.