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Should I be
flattered? I wrote that off--no man of his cut could see anything appealing
in a jellyfish like me--and turned in for the night. I dreamed of my
schoolboy idol, Andy, shut in a closet with me. A flashlight shone between
us from the floor as we breathlessly fondled each other's silky young
pricks. I woke up sweaty and hard, calmed myself by alternately drinking
and passing water, and returned to bed.
I returned to the club two days later. After working out with Brian for a
while, I asked about Art. Brian cocked his head and peered at me with a
strange smile. "Do you know anything about why he left?" When I said I
didn't, Brian explained that Art came in the night before and turned in his
membership. I shrugged, mentioned that I had only met the man once, but he
seemed like a decent chap and it was too bad he wouldn't be around. I was
much more disappointed than I let on, to Brian or to myself.
