48. San Francisco

We arrive in San Francisco late Saturday evening.

Huge was too small of a word to describe Josh’s all-glass home. Aesthetically decorated with white furniture and elaborate pieces of art, I didn’t know where to look first.

From any room, kitchen, living room, bathroom, bedroom, I could see the city lights twinkling all around because the pad was all-glass.

I’d grumbled a bit about privacy, but when I stepped outside the long-lipped wraparound balcony, I realized the glass was one-way. Nothing could be seen from the outside looking in. Strewn about were white leather lounge chairs and tall decorative plants.

"You like?"

I spun around and found Josh at the sliding glass doors which led out to the balcony. Shirt, shoes and socks all gone. Top button his jeans undone, flashing me a peek at his gray boxers.

"Y-yes," I rasped, totally, completely affected by the delicious sight of him.

"It's...huge."

"Good. Because I had it redecorated, hoping you’d like it."

A stumpy, bald guy dressed in