"One and only." he replies offering his hand for me to shake. I fuck it up like a geek expecting the jock handshake and not the normal kind.
"Well, I gotta get to practice, coach is gonna have my ass for being late."
"Yeah, I've gotta get to play rehearsal."
"You're in Ethan Frome?"
"Yeah, the lead this time."
"You open this weekend, don't you? I'd like to come and see you, would that be all right?
"It's open to the public." I reply tentatively.
"No I mean, I'd like to come and see you. I think you're a really good actor."
What's going on here? Am I in some state of post-trauma delusion?
"You got plans for after the show on Saturday?" he asks suddenly.
The shock of the question instantly creates a fog worse than any bump on the head. From somewhere inside, the word 'No' comes out slowly. This is not happening, I think to myself. This is not happening. This is not happening�
"Great! I'll come pick you up in the green room after the show and we'll go out. I promise I'll make this whole thing up to you. Sound good?"
"Yeah, cool." I manage to make the reply sound normal, sort of the way you do when you're trying to convince someone you're not drunk.
"All-right!" Jock handshake. This time I get it right. "See 'ya Saturday!"
As quickly as we collided, he is gone.
"You were dating Tina Amorosa and you got her to set me up with her friend Cassie Peters and after the show the four of us went to a party at one of your friends. You and Tina fucked like rabbits on the couch in the basement family room and Cassie and I made out on top of the washing machine in the adjoining laundry room."
Cassie kisses like a Pez dispenser and no matter how much I try to get her to ease up, I still get a throat full of her Gene Simmons-like tongue every five seconds. While her hot hands brush my crotch, through the louvered door I can see Tina on the couch, her stubby legs draped over Mikes wide shoulders. With every stroke he gives her, the muscles on his high, round ass dimple and he grunts like an animal. Tina seems pretty happy with her latest conquest repeating "Don't stop, don't stop, Oh God, don't stop!" over and over. The faster he fucks her, the faster she says it until he suddenly stops moving, then resumes fucking her at a furious pace, snorting and bellowing "Oh shit! Motherfucking shit! I'm cummin! Aw, Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I know as I�m watching that no porn movie in my collection will ever make me as hard as I am now at the sight of this free show. Mike looks over towards the laundry room with a huge grin on his face�
Cassie is feeling the hardon I just sprang from watching Mike's studliness on full display, her face lighting up as though she had just found a $50 bill on the sidewalk. Thinking she's finally got me going hot for her she whispers in my ear, "Ooh this feels nice. Do you want to do more?"
Do I want to do more? I think to myself. Do I want to do more? Do I? I don't know. Could I? Inspired by what I just saw, I'm thinking I probably could. The real question is do I want to go home a loser or do I want to take what may be my only chance to play in the same ring as Mikey? Deciding it's not much of a decision; I reach around Cassie and turn the washer on to the spin cycle. She smiles wickedly as she undoes my button-fly's. Mike and Tina return the favor and stay put to be our audience.
"Then after we dropped the girls off, we broke into the Women's Club and skinny dipped in the pool until dawn." I remind him.
Mike leads me to a ground level window on the side of the building, which he knows is never locked. He crawls through first. Then, several nerve racking minutes later, motions for me to follow. We end up sitting on a tiled window ledge about eight feet high, the dark glass surface of the water seeming far below us, barely moving, reflecting the partial moon through the window behind us. Our shadows are cast on the liquid mirror below, one tall and broad, one short and thin, looking strangely paired. Suddenly, Mike jumps from the ledge and immediately upon landing, begins shucking his football jersey and jeans.
"How are we going to get back up the ledge Mike?"
"Don't need to, there's a side door we can go out of. C'mon, get down here."
I jump down, paranoid of breaking an ankle or something. Fortunately, nothing happens. Mike removes his jockstrap and heads for the high dive, his little round butt dimpling with each step. "Watch this one!" he calls. He executes a perfect reverse jackknife, slicing into the water at a perfect vertical with no splash to reveal his presence below the surface. Just as I begin to wonder if he's planning to ever come back to the surface, he appears at the far opposite end, shaking the water from his eyes.
"What'd 'ya think?"
"Beautiful." I reply, meaning it in every possible sense.
