Outing [3]

Warning! Little bit of smut (heterosexual) and just to be on the safe side mention of controversial matter.

————

::OUTING::

Chapter 3

**Present Time**

Gabriel’s POV

“I feel good, nanananananana…I knew that I would, now nanananananana…I feel good, nanananananana I knew that I would, now nanananananana…So good! So good! I got you!! Nanananana”

“Whoa! I feel nice, nanananananana…like sugar and spice, nanananananana…I feel nice, nanananananana… like sugar and spice, nanananananana… So nice! So nice! I got you!! Nananananaaaaa…”

Before I realize, I find myself humming and drumming my fingers in the rhythm of that song. I swear this is one of the best things about morning love-making sessions, hearing Vin singing afterwards.

A huge grin spreads on my lips. I don’t need to see him to know that he’s also dancing, shaking his hips, and if he wasn’t shaving but brushing his teeth, he probably would be using his toothbrush like a microphone too. Did I say how much I love that big goof?

The thing is that Vin has a nice voice, but I wouldn’t be running out to buy his CD, if you know what I mean. Don’t get me wrong; I love it, but this is just for us. It’s one of those too precious moments to be shared not with others but with the people you truly love. However, the truth is that I don’t think there’ll come a day when I’ll grow tired of hearing Vin’s voice. Not ever.

“Gabe, did you get a hold of the carpenters?”

Too bad he’s done singing; I was really getting into it. Oh, well…“Yeah, they’ll be here next Monday.”

I yawn and, scratching my butt cheek, I pad towards the bathroom. Vin is standing in front of the double sinks in shorts, shaving. The vision of the fuzz in his chest draws all my attention and I have to make a great effort to focus long enough to keep talking. Vin is closer to fifty than he’d like to admit, but damn him! The man looks even sexier now than when I met him. I better get my head out of the gutter or we’re gonna end up in bed—again, which doesn’t sound bad at all. Stop it. Focus.

“Which should work out okay because the furniture is supposed to be delivered on the 20^th.” There, I finally manage to complete my sentence and in spite of his fuzzy chest tantalizing me.

Vin meets my eyes through our reflections in the mirror and snorts. “Of which month?”

I chuckle at his sarcastic reply, but I know he’s right. We’ve already had experience with furniture deliveries before, and can’t say it’s a good experience. Oh, well…The joy of being working class people. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

While being a celebrity was a whole different ballgame, there was always someone else Vin could entrust to do the ‘dirty’ job, and his only concern was to make sure that his bank account wasn’t running out of funds to pay for the services. Those days are gone and, even though Vin says that he didn’t miss them, he still has a hard time getting accustomed to take care of all this stuff.

Now, we both are the ones making the phone calls, comparing budgets, doing numbers and dealing with painters, carpenters, plumbers and the like. Still, I’m better than Vin at dealing with them, let me tell you, but only because I have far more patience than he has and I’m more experienced too.

I think I didn’t say it before, but we’re remodelling our house to make room for Elan’s bedroom. Until now, Hania and her little brother had been sharing one, but now she’s almost nine year old, so we thought that it was time for her to have her own bedroom.

Vin was given a compensation for breach of contract. The thing is that he was hired to play a role in a movie and, later, after signing the contract and just one week before the shooting started, he was fired, being replaced by another actor; the brand new ‘Vin Diesel’. It figures.

Needless to say that Vin was quite appalled but, apparently, he hadn’t been the best option to play that role, at least according to one of the producers. In other words, Vin was too old to play the character. Fuck them! Problem is that they realized too damn late about that shit, and so the joke ended up costing them a small fortune.

Six years ago, Vin would have use that money to get some indecently expensive and yet useless shit to go over the trauma of being rejected in such a shitty way. Not anymore though. We decided to use part of the money to remodel the house, instead of buying a new one, saving the rest. Yeah, we’ve become pretty quick learners after what happened.

God knows the house was falling to pieces when we bought it, but it has a really spacious attic with a lot of natural light. The perfect place to set up my studio. In spite of the many things that needed to be fixed, we grew fond of this house pretty fast, at the end we bought it together. Still, Vin couldn’t help it and he also got a brand new bed that would safely hold our wildest love-making sessions. Oh, well…I can’t bitch about that one, now can I?

“At least the carpet is already at the warehouse, they’re just waiting for the carpenters to be done.” I reply, moving to stand behind him.

“They better get it right this time,” he grumbles under his breath and then washes his face, getting rid of the last bits of shaving foam.

I chuckle again but we still remember the day we came back home from a short trip to look for locations for one of Vin’s movies only to find wall to wall pink plush carpeting installed in Hania’s bedroom instead of the soft peach tone we had chosen. And it wasn’t any light pink tone or dark salmon-pink tone, no way, but the most-hideous-most-strident-slap-in-your-face-Barbie-pink tone. It almost gave Vin a heart attack when he saw it, although I was almost sure that Hania wouldn’t have agreed with her dad’s taste, then again she was four year old, kids don’t have the same taste as adults, exactly.

Anyway, the guys at the carpet shop were pretty pissed off when I called and told them to rip it up and get it out of our house. They even had the nerve to say that it was a special order and that they couldn’t return it. Like we gave a flying fuck! I replied not-so-nicely that I had the receipt to prove they had fucked up big time and that I didn’t give a damn what they did with it, but it wasn’t going to stay. Period.

“I went over and checked.” I encircle his waist, pressing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades, and then move to the shower stall. “It’s the right stuff.”

“Well that’s something at least,” he turns around and, pulling me to him, he kisses me hard. “Now, how about round two?”

I laugh but I wonder how we got here, worrying about carpenters and furniture deliveries.

I remember that once Vin told me, back in the days when we still weren’t together, how he envisioned his life to be in the future. He admitted that he would have laughed his ass off if someone would have suggested to him that he’d be here. Funny thing is that someone did, and now I know that he didn’t laugh at all…

———-

**Past Time**

Vin’s POV

The night was still technically young, but I felt exhausted. Climbing into my bed, I expected to drop almost immediately into slumber, but it didn’t come. Finally I got back up and paced my big house restlessly. I even spent an hour in my gym, trying to bring myself to a state of physical exhaustion, but the restless energy remained.

Karim had left but he hadn’t gone too far. Big surprise there. He had moved to the guest room. It was fine with me; I definitely could use a little peace of mind.

My last tandem with him had exhausted me mentally. Although I had to admit, if reluctantly, that Karim had been right about one thing; I was getting old and my patience wasn’t what it used to be. Some days dealing with Karim exhausted me almost as much as a hard training session could; as if the boy was some sort of parasite, mercilessly sucking my energy the way a tick would suck blood from its host.

Finally admitting that I wasn’t going to get any sleep any time soon, I picked up the phone and dialed a number I knew by heart. Sara’s.

Sara was a female escort. I didn’t give a damn. I was more than happy to pay for her company because it assured me discretion and she offered much more than just a hell of a wild ride. Sara did everything she was paid for, as long as it didn’t involve pain or minors. Threesomes, foursomes, men, women, you name it. Sara didn’t care and she was one of the best too, if not the very best.

One of the things I loved, and still do, about Sara was the fact that she was not only beautiful, but also intelligent and educated. You could take her to whatever event and she never made a spectacle of herself, ever. Quite the opposite, her exquisite manners allowed Sara to rub shoulders with the most upper crust of society. You should know that among her exclusive clients there were politicians, elite sportsmen, well-known business men and even a couple of Saudi Arabian sheiks. In spite of this, Sara could mingle, with equal grace and style, with working class people, and without standing out, unless she wanted too.

However, Sara hid a secret. Something no one suspected back in those days, not even me, and believe me, I used to spend a lot of time with her and, unlike with most people, I really did pay attention to Sara. But, back then, I was also a bit caught up in my own predicament, so I had to confess that I just didn’t see it. Sara’s secret was none other than she was in love with the most unpretentious most humble and honest man I’ve ever known…Valentino Morales.

Needless to say that, if back then I had known, I wouldn’t have done anything with her. But I didn’t, and by the time I found out about Sara’s feelings for Valentino, I had already gotten laid by her, many times, which of course, didn’t precisely help their own relationship to develop.

———

“What’s bothering you?” Sara handed me a beer and took a seat at my side on the big plush couch.

“Nothing,” I lied, looking down at the red silky nightgown I had given to her a couple of weeks ago. “I just wanted to see you.” Lightly, I caressed the sheer fabric, doing my best to distract myself from the thoughts that kept me awake. “You look beautiful.” It was a lame attempt to divert her attention to another matter that wasn’t myself, but even though I sounded both charming and sincere, Sara’s knowing smile told me I wasn’t fooling her.

“Thank you, sweetheart, you look good yourself.” She brushed her thigh with mine. The movement felt casual but I knew it had been deliberately done, calculated so that I lifted my eyes, meeting hers. It worked. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s going on for real?”

I let out a heavy sigh; I should have known better than trying to fool a woman; a self-centered mature woman, I mean. Sara had known me long enough to suspect that I didn’t come looking to get laid, but looking for advice. However, I wasn’t good at opening up to people, and talking about feelings and emotions was not anything I felt comfortable with, not even with her and definitely not back then.

“I got into a fight with Karim, again.” I choose the middle route to the matter that concerned me the most. A cowardly way to get to the point that got me awake, I admit, but I’m a guy and we always beat about the bush rather than grabbing the bull by its horns.

“Is he still asking for more attention?”

It wasn’t a secret to my closest circle of friends that, almost since the beginning, Karim had always wanted me all for himself; the boy didn’t like to share me, not with my friends or anyone else for that matter. At first I was fine with that; I felt flattered, sort of, but now it was simply suffocating.

“I wouldn’t say he’s asking but more like demanding,” I sipped from my beer, making a face when I recalled my back and forth with Karim.

“That’s nothing new, Vin.” Sara placed her hand onto mine and went on. “Now out with it, big guy, we both know that Karim’s issues wouldn’t keep you awake.”

I blinked, a bit startled by Sara’s perception. Was I that transparent? Maybe I was, at least to her.

“I met this guy at Gordon’s birthday party,” I cleared my throat, feeling a bit uncomfortable but Sara didn’t say anything; instead, she patiently waited for me to keep talking, so I obliged. “It doesn’t make sense, but I can’t get him out of my head.” I drop my voice to an awkward whisper at the end, confused and disconcerted at my own words; they were sort of a revelation, even to me.

“He’s not like anyone you met before, am I right?” Sara tipped her head up and slightly to the right, a gesture she frequently did to show her interest on any matter while talking with people.

“Gabriel is…” I trailed off, frowning at the realization of how easily his name came to my lips. “He’s kind of different.”

At such a line I found myself wondering why he was different, exactly. On the outside, he was hot and sexy but, just like I told you before; there were hundreds of guys like him around LA. It wasn’t just his physique what attracted me but something within him. I had no clue what it was, exactly, but Gabriel seemed to stir in me that deep protecting instinct I only reserved for the people I really cared for; the people I loved, but also another stronger and even deeper feeling I was unable, or unwilling, to put a name.

“He’s the one.”

“Damn, Sara!” I groaned, but didn’t contradict her, and my reaction shocked the hell out of me.

“About time, I’d say,” Sara’s soft smile eased the impact her words caused on me. If that line would have come out of anyone else mouth I would have gotten embarrassed, and probably even pissed off, but coming from Sara…well…

“It won’t work,” I sighed hard, already envisioning the headlines. “‘Sides, the kid is not interested.”

I knew I was letting myself get carried away, but it was true. I suspected I was putting the cart before the horse, but I somehow knew that my career would be done in a matter of weeks if people knew I was bisexual. I however wasn’t concerned about my family’s reaction, mostly because they already knew, but the rest of the world…I wasn’t so sure. And then there was the fact that Gabriel hadn’t shown the slightest interest in me, which I realized, did upset me more than concerned me.

“Says who?”

Sara’s question pulled me out of my rambling in one second flat.

“Just because it doesn’t seem like an easy path doesn’t mean that it won’t work. Everybody needs somebody, Vin, even if most people pretend that they don’t want that. Maybe it’s time for you to settle down for real.” Sara explained and leaned back a bit on her side of the comfortable couch, then went on. “There’s nothing wrong with dreaming of sharing your life with someone special. The need to commit is ingrained in all of us, no matter what our sexual orientation is. You can’t tell me that just because you’re bisexual you don’t want the same things that everybody else on this planet wants, a home, family…”

I rolled my eyes, a bit exasperated. “I already have a family, remember? I have Paloma, Hania and in a few months I’ll have Elan too. And-”

“And what about someone to warm your feet at night?”

There was humor in Sara’s voice, but she wasn’t talking out of her ass. Her perceptiveness didn’t know limits, it seemed. Women’s sixth sense and all that, I guess. Sara reminded me a lot of Paloma though; both were assertive and never beat about the bush. And just like Paloma, Sara had a point there, I had to concede. Lately, both women had sung that song to me, a lot. Still…

“Oh, come on, Sara, you think I’m that naïve?” I met her eyes and regretted I had asked that aloud. “Never mind, don’t answer that.”

Sara laughed quietly, taking my hand in hers. “Come on, Vin, you’re scared, that’s all.”

“I’m not,” I stubbornly shook my head, but she was right. Damn her!

I was terrified of the intensity of my feelings for a guy I just had crossed a few words with. It didn’t make any sense. Not that love ever did, but I didn’t know if it was love or just lust. Besides, why would I risk everything I had worked so damn hard to get? Just because I got the hots for Gabriel? I didn’t know shit about him and I wasn’t planning to do shit about my feelings regarding him either. I would get over it…over him…eventually…right?

“Yes, you are, but that’s okay, Vin, really it is. Love is a scary thing.”

“Love sucks big time, Sara, and you better than anyone else should know. ‘Sides, what do you know about love, girl?” I couldn’t help it and I threw that shit to her, but only because her words had hit too close to home for my comfort.

Briefly, her eyes widened just for a second and then narrowed. A gesture that I had learnt to recognize; I had hurt her, badly. My thoughtless comment had been more than out of place. So even though I knew Sara wouldn’t bear me any grudge, I apologized all the same for my mean reply.

“I’m sorry I said that shit.” I lifted her hand to my lips, kissing it softly. “I had no right.”

“It’s okay,” Sara shrugged her shoulders and smiled, as though she didn’t care about my inappropriate, rude comment. I knew better.

Sara still believed in love in spite of the fact that deep down, she knew that most men would never look at her in such a way. Sara was a ‘call girl’, a female ‘escort’, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t have her own dreams. Men would pay to enjoy her company and would waste an indecent amount of money on a gift for her, but none of them would walk her down the aisle. No wedding ring for her, not in this lifetime. It was sad because I knew Sara was a wonderful woman any man would feel lucky to call ‘his wife’.

In seconds, I felt like shit. She was only doing what I had asked her to do, giving me advice and I reciprocated by reminding her of what she would never enjoy, and even worse, about what she did for a living, as though being a call girl didn’t qualify her to have a saying on the love matter.

“No, it’s not okay and I really am sorry, Sara. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I told you it’s okay,” Sara smiled, reassuringly squeezing my hand. “Besides, you’re right. What would someone like me know about love?” Once more she shrugged her shoulders.

There wasn’t self-deprecation in her voice or fake pity for herself, but I knew she was performing, hiding her pain behind a mask of nonchalance. I didn’t want her acting in such a way, not with me.

“Someone like you? What does that shit mean?” I replied fiercely. “Sara, come on, you’re as beautiful inside as outside if not more. And you’re a great woman too, and I’m sure that there’s somebody out there who will recognizes that.”

At my words, Sara chuckled. “Are you trying to charm your way into my pants, sweetheart?”

Her seductive smile did not fool me for a second; the hint of sarcasm in her voice betrayed her pose. I knew everything about it; I had practically lived for that shit for so many years I had already lost count. Sarcasm was the resort that people with a core of steel, yet fragile, like Sara and even me, would use to not let others see how much their words and acts hurt us. Leather skin was how I called it; it made us impervious to this cruel, nasty world we both lived in.

“Yeah…maybe, but I’m not kidding.” I was grinning but I was being sincere too. I did believe what I was saying; it wasn’t just an empty compliment to make her feel better. “I want you to have the best that life can offer and to share it with somebody that realizes how special you are. Whether you believe it or not, you deserve that.”

“Come on, I’ll give you a Thai massage,” Sara was back to her business self and was also dismissing my words, as though she wasn’t interested all of a sudden. I felt defeated at such a fact.

She had opened up to me and I had laughed my ass off at her. I realized then and there that no amount of sincere words, as heartfelt as they were, would fix the pain my stupid comment had caused.

“Once I’m done with you, sweetheart, you’ll sleep like a baby.”

Her husky, sexy voice however caused my cock to stir to life. Then she got to her feet, removing her silky nightgown, revealing her naked, perfectly shaped body and I cursed myself inwardly. I deserved to be treated like a client and not like a friend. It served me right for acting like an asshole.

“Sara,” I groaned out loud.

I might or might be not falling in love with Gabriel, a guy I didn’t know shit about, and I sure as hell felt bad for insulting Sara, but my stupid cock clearly liked what it was watching, and didn’t have issues lusting after Sara’s pussy. I had to be dead to not feel aroused at the sight of such a breathtakingly beautiful woman though.

A low growl passed my lips and Sara shuddered uncontrollably. “That sound should come with a warning, sweetheart.” She breathed out, reaching for the bobby pin that held her long hair up in a simple, classy bow. It felt down her back and shoulders, as though a silky cascade and I found myself getting harder at the sight of it.

I shave my head but I always had a thing for long, black hair. It got me every time, no matter what. Then she extended her hand, invitingly. “Come on, you’re awfully dressed for a Thai massage.”

My gaze slid up and down her body. She was just in a pair of red, high heel slip ons; ‘fuck me’ high heel slip ons, actually. That was another thing that got me when with women. Stilettos and high heels made my dick hard in seconds.

“Sara.” It came out as a warning; I was losing control and doing it at a damn fast speed. The guilt I had felt just mere seconds before was quickly being replaced with lust. Leave it to a guy to think with the wrong head at the most inappropriate moment.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Sara had no doubt what the vision was doing to me and, smiling knowingly, she lifted one foot, placing it onto her coffee table. “Maybe you’re not interested in a massage?” As she spoke, Sara spread her bent legs slightly apart, naughtily flashing me with her shaved pussy lips, a small patch of black hair, heart shaped and perfectly trimmed at the top of the slit. She was already wet and ready. I lost it.

“Come over here, baby,” I licked my lower lip without averting my eyes from her pink folds. I had to taste her.

Sara laughed quietly and obliged, standing in front of me. “What did you have in mind, exactly, sweetheart?” She stroked my nape, then leaned forward, kissing my lips softly.

That was part of our agreement. Kissing Sara was off limits for almost all her clients. I wasn’t one of them.

“I wanna eat you out until you cum all over my face,” I growled, pushing her back onto the couch and spread her legs further apart, exposing her most delicate flesh for me only to see. “Is that okay with you?”

I could tell by the way her eyebrows drew down crumpling her forehead that Sara didn’t believe I could make her come that hard, but she nodded. “Yes, I’m very okay with that, sweetheart.”

I bet Sara was thinking that since I was the client, I could dream on with whatever I felt like it; she, of course, would make sure I got what I wanted. Too bad I wasn’t dreaming. I knew how to make sure a woman enjoyed and I was planning to make Sara end up having a real orgasm, whether she did it willingly or not would be a different matter.

——————-

**Past Time**

Gabriel’s POV

“You sure this will help?” Wryly, I eyed the syringe that Fred, one of the bouncers at the nightclub, was loading.

“Yeah. It’s the same shit elite sportsmen use when they pull a muscle or something.” Fred explained, lightly tapping the syringe with his knuckles.

“You mean illegal shit, right?” I narrowed my eyes staring at his, but I already knew the answer to that question.

Fred shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not like you’re going to go through a dope test, anyway, now are you?”

I sighed. It was true and I needed to be able to move around, at least until my shift was done. It was illegal shit, but I trust Fred; I couldn’t say the same thing about many people.

I had met Fred a couple of months ago. Max was the one who introduced us; he was also the one telling me about this nightclub looking for go-go dancers. Fred was more than 200 pounds of black muscles, shaved head and a mustache. He always wore leather jackets, no matter the season and almost always dressed in black.

In his middle thirties, Fred worked as a bouncer but he also ran another, more profitable business. He dealt in stuff that should be only sold with a medical prescription, mostly steroids and shits like that. It was illegal, of course, but it wasn’t as if his regulars couldn’t get it on the Internet. Still, half the stuff that was sold on line was low quality. At least, Fred always made sure to offer high quality at good rates and he never dealt with serious shit, such as coke, heroin or speed.

“It’ll skyrocket your levels of adrenaline and you won’t feel any pain for a least a couple of hours.” Fred gestured for me to push down my jeans and I obliged. “After that you’ll slump like a bundle of rags though.” Fred injected the liquid and playfully slapped my ass cheek. “There, you’re done.”

Oblivious to Fred staring at me, I pushed my jeans all the way down, revealing my bruises with such a gesture, and started changing into my outfit to dance. A soft hiss of pain however passed my lips and, out of the corner of my eyes, I could see how Fred’s eyebrows drew down, crumpling his forehead. Still, he turned around, getting rid of the syringe and the empty ampoule.

“There are places where you can get help, you know?” Fred said, as though absentmindedly and I cursed myself inwardly.

I should have known better than changing in front of him. Most people wouldn’t give a damn, but Fred wasn’t ‘most people’. His next words confirmed my suspicions.

“You don’t need to feel ashamed just because you’re a guy.”

I frowned, stepping into my tight leather pants and pretended I didn’t know what Fred was suggesting. “Huh?” Once more, I should have known better than fooling Fred, of all people.

Gesturing to my bruised lower back and hips, Fred turned fully, meeting my gaze. “Most people think that only women are abused but that’s bullshit. I know many guys that are smacked around too.”

I had to snort at that. Fred didn’t know about my other job, yet anyway, although I was almost sure that he had his suspicions. At the end, Max and Fred were as thick as thieves even though Fred couldn’t be more straight if he trained for it.

“I’m not being smacked around, Fred.” Clasping my pants I reached for the matching wristbands; they would cover the bruises the ropes had left on my wrists just fine.

It was Fred’s time to snort out loud. “Yeah, sure.”

I sighed, suspecting that Fred probably thought that I was one of those guys that got off being hurt. I wasn’t, but Fred didn’t know that. “Really. I’m not being abused.” I insisted, putting as much reassurance as I could.

Fred just stared at me. “Whatever,” he sighed, as thought defeated and it made me feel bad. Fred was such a sweetheart; he always took good care of me. His heart was, and still is, as huge as his broad back. “But if you need help my door is open 24/7.”

That did it. I knew I could tell Fred about the porno movies and he wouldn’t judge me; he wasn’t that kind of guy. “Fred, seriously, no one is beating me at all. It’s not like that,” I reached out, lightly squeezing his forearm. “I’m a porno actor.”

In response, Fred knit a brow and eyed me suspiciously. “Is that true?”

I nodded but felt ashamed and averted my eyes, looking down. I knew I could be doing far worse; still it was tough shit to tell people. I guess that the unconscious fear of being rejected because of what I did for a living had been inherent in me for so long I just couldn’t get rid of it.

Tipping my chin up with his knuckle, Fred forced me to meet his gaze once more. “Hardcore porno, right?” I nodded. “Was Maximilian the one finding you the job?” I nodded again. Then Fred’s gaze hardened. “Bare back?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I don’t have a death wish.” And it was true.

I needed the money, but I sure as hell didn’t want to get it at the cost of risking my own life. Max wasn’t like me though, and Fred always got in huge fights with him because Max wasn’t precisely cautious with some of his dates. Still, the fact that he got tested each six months did nothing to ease Fred’s deep concern at all.

“Good.” I saw relief in his eyes as he let out the air he had seemed to be holding. “You keep it that way, you hear me?” His gaze turned fierce as he pointed a stiff finger to my face, and I shuddered uncontrollably, nodding ‘yes’ eagerly. Fred’s heart was huge, but he would kick my ass in one second flat if he thought I was acting stupid.

Fred wasn’t a moralist, and he wasn’t a bigot either. I knew how much he cared about the people who had AIDS. Fred was always complaining about the lack of funding and the lack of concern by Congress and the population at large. It angered him to a great extent how many irresponsible people, especially teenagers, played Russian roulette with their lives, unnecessarily exposing themselves to getting infected. It probably affected Fred in such a way because his kid brother had died five years ago of pneumonia. After he got infected with the AIDS virus, his fragile immune system couldn’t fight a cold anymore.

“You need money; you come looking for me, okay?” He added as an afterthought and I smiled widely.

Of course, it always came down to money, but I was not going to ask Fred, or anyone else, for it. Still, his unselfish offer got me all the same. “I’ll do so, Fred.” I planted a soft peck on his lips and finished getting ready. I was starting to feel the effects of the substance he had injected me with. That was a good thing because the club was about to open its doors.

————

Extract song: “I Feel Good”

Singer: James Brown

Disclaimer: I don’t have the rights of this song, nor that I claim them. No money made, no damage done. This is for entertaining purposes.