In alt.sex.stories.gay, braun1@concentric.net (JB) wrote:

 This is a new fantasy story that a friend of mine and a great writer asked me 
to post on his behalf as he wishes to remain anonymus.  Any constructive 
comments may be forwarded to me and I will make sure he receives them.  Comments 
to: Braun1@concentric.net

 Standard disclaimers apply.

 If you are under legal age in your part of the world or find man to man sex 
offensive, leave, delete or just plain go away.  You are not welcome.  If 
however you enjoy total fantasy stories of muscular supermen and are a "legal" 
adult, what are you reading this for? 



 The G

 Part 4

 Sure enough, it didn't. We left the gym as it was, cum and sweat drenched, and 
hit the showers. They didn't help - hot water did nothing to cool the passion. 
He went to the showers first, and not surprisingly, used the corner stall. 
Things really got quite obvious once you knew the reason they were made that 
way. I always thought the shower stalls were done hastily, all were the same 
width, except the corner one which was far wider, but just narrow enough that 
two stalls would have been too narrow in it's place. Of course, once he stepped 
in, it was quite obvious why it was that way. Soon the water flowed over both of 
us. I stayed behind him, taking what looked like seconds to wash off our 
combined cum, so fast I was again challenging dexterity as a concept. When I 
finished off, he was just starting, and I was almost full-mast again, and 
started soaping up his back, while he started on his chest. But, I soon got 
stuck going down to his ass, tracing the curves. He sported a pump the likes of 
which were never seen before, his arms were pushed wide by his lats, which were 
in turn pushed back by his triceps, so the top of them jutted out towards me. I 
started kneading those incredible bulges. They were so huge and so hard. It took 
real effort only to move on, and I finally managed to do so. He moved his arms 
as he was soaping himself and it made all sorts of new bulges appear and move 
under his skin. I forced myself to move my hands downwards, but it didn't help, 
I was getting hotter and hotter, going down that impossible curve towards his 
lower lats, jutting, not thinning out at all. Then, suddenly, as my hands felt 
down two huge pillars of muscle, they reached his ass, hard and writhing as he 
moved, and in one second more, my cock was up his ass-crack and the head between 
those pillars of muscle, my chest pressing into the bulges of his upper back, my 
arms barely reaching under his arms around him, and there were four hands on his 
huge pecs, stroking, and my lips on his traps, licking, kissing and nibbling at 
their hardness. He let out a breath, a sound full of passion and concentrated 
power. And soon our hands went down and up exploring, my left on his left 
nipple, his right over his right pec, my right down getting stuck in the bulging 
abs, his left helping it over to touch his thigh, then we would move and twist a 
little, both sending waves of passion to each other, my hands moved to touch his 
arms, his to reach my thighs, lathering each other with our bodies. It was like 
breathing fire, while he flexed every part I passed over, it became  a bulge, it 
ballooned out, or jumped up forming cords, and as he moved I'd feel everything 
down to the faintest shudder on my chest, my belly, my cock, my thighs. Then, 
suddenly, he turned around and picked me up by my ass, and lifted - the next I 
knew his passion engorged man-meat was between us, and I was licking it's head 
as best I could as he lifted me up and down over it and his pumped up chest and 
abs, the bulges and ridges rubbing against my own cock. I went from cock to his 
face, his hair, licking and kissing, jacking him off with my whole body, feeling 
his cock with my hands and tongue alternately, fleeting moments of touch given 
to his pumping shoulders, triceps and biceps. I wanted to suck him, but I 
couldn't any more, he got too big already, I didn't know if I moaned it or said 
it or though it. "You're growing..." It was like a signal, and with my whole 
body I felt his cock really grow, cumming, his breath stopping, and then 
becoming a growling sound I felt through his chest as he exhaled slowly, his 
eyes closed, as he came with four slow convulsions, and four gushes of hot cum. 
Then I came again, short, shocking and blissful, shooting a wad of liquid into 
the crevice between his abs and chest. Our juices flowed slowly flushed by the 
hot water, and I could feel my feet touch the ground again. As soon as they did 
his hands went up over my back and around me, and we were separated, his huge 
organ slipping down, still swollen. The next thing I knew, he was toweling off 
the water from him and me, from head to toe, and we were in the locker room 
again. I just looked in wonder at him, like the day before. He was pumped up 
incredibly, more than ever, as he moved, a little of the rational I managed to 
regain registered that it showed, a strange and obvious loss of range of 
movement, and a stance which would look funny and overdone on anyone but him. He 
finished the job and we both went up to his bedroom - he with that incredible 
coordination of his, now only slightly hampered, and I, following, still basking 
in the glow of recent sex.

 He came in first, and I almost collapsed onto the bed as soon as I could feel 
it in front of me, still holding the towel he dried me with a minute ago. He 
switched on the lights and I noticed I actually barely missed the low wall. The 
small but powerful lights shone above the mirror wall, and he stood there, in 
front of it, looking at his reflection. He twisted a bit to the right, and then 
back again. "This is so good..." he said. "Huh?" I replied, while he moved to 
face the mirror head on. "Look at me, I'm so pumped up... my skin feels so tight 
and I love it... it's like it's four sizes too small" he said. The bright light 
now showed him in all the glory, and I realized he'd just seen himself for the 
first time since his workout - I had lots more time to get used to him in this 
overpumped state he was in, not that I had any great success as my aching loins 
could testify. He shifted slightly, and felt the skin of his right biceps with 
his left hand, his fingers going back and forth over the veins which now, under 
the light, looked to be bulging even more. He took special attention at what 
could only have been a stretch-mark, Barely visible, but there, and another one 
in the crevice between his pec and shoulder. "I haven't had such a pump...I'm 
not sure if I ever did" he said. He shifted slightly and flexed his pecs ever so 
slightly, just making their huge bulk bounce under the skin which really looked 
tight to the point of becoming paper thin. He turned so he had a side view and 
brought his arm down, but didn't flex. His triceps stood out, a huge gob of 
muscle, nevertheless. "Oh yes, this is sooo good..." he kept on saying. He was 
getting off on himself, and it made my blood churn, and his also - his cock was 
swollen again. He turned to face the mirror again and flexed his thigh, which 
jumped up from several huge cords into the same cords, but even bigger, with 
tens of new cords over them. It made his cock bounce from thigh to thigh and it 
stayed suspended in the air slightly, a hard-on in progress as evident as the 
enjoyment on his face. He lifted his arm up, and bent it over, which made his 
biceps again become a huge, but still not flexed, ball, which he then felt over 
with his hand, watching himself in the mirror. He noticed me ogling and I could 
see his realization that there was no reason for keeping back. He looked at my 
reflection. Then he glided down over his pecs and his abs with his left hand, 
still holding his right up, reached his crotch, and lifted his monster cock, 
huge with his blood, with that slide-under-and-lift motion, which only someone 
of his endowment would have needed. Then he flexed his biceps and started 
stroking his cock, which I could see getting more rigid by the second. His 
biceps, now in a proper one-armed biceps pose was something I'll never be able 
to get over, that impossible shape and super-human size. In a second I was 
beside him and my hand replaced his, stroking his cock. He was getting off 
himself, I was getting off him getting off himself, and he was getting off me 
doing that. "Now you flex properly" I said, stroking him very, very slowly. His 
hand free now, he went into a full double biceps, flexing up slowly. First his 
abs practically extruded themselves what looked like two inches forward, his 
thighs went huge and rigid with almost a snap, his calves following, and then he 
lifted his chest, and slowly brought his lats out as far as he could, which was 
inhumanly far, it looked like they would bulge out to his elbows, flexing his 
pecs at the same time, and then his arms went ballistic, muscles swelling larger 
and larger until his impossible biceps peaks reached almost to his fists, and 
his triceps bulged down trying to meet the bulges of his lats. I started 
stroking him only slightly faster. His cock throbbed visibly, with his slow but 
mighty heartbeat. As if he was reading my mind he undid his fists and his 
fingers reached down to touch the peaks of his biceps. I could tell he was 
flexing for all he was worth, a suppressed groan coming from him. I could see 
his abs moving up and down as he stopped holding his breath and was starting to 
breathe, more deeply by the second. He relaxed a little and then went into a 
front lat spread, his lats filling the space between his arms and his torso. I 
stroked with all I was worth, feeling through all the numbness my cock being 
hard again, looking like a permanent bruise, a purplish red. His cock was slick 
from what looked like a torrent of precum, the amount was incredible considering 
the number of times he had already cum. He was now moving his crotch in the same 
slow rhythm, exactly in the opposite direction of my stroking, fucking my fist 
barely reaching enough around his pole to hold it. His cock was rigid enough but 
also stayed smaller, enough to let his foreskin glide unimpeded over the head. I 
stroked him up and down, deep strokes going almost a foot in length, slow, 
holding his cock to the side, so that he could face the mirror, and I stood 
sideways. He kept looking at both our reflections and my eyes kept darting back 
and forth between a real super-pumped monster muscleman and another one, in the 
mirror. He went into a most muscular, slowly, it made his pecs and shoulders 
blow up into cords and cables and veins until the skin turned red, and I felt 
the inevitability of cumming, not now, but it looked like my whole body was 
going to cum and it was bracing itself. Then, all of a sudden, he changed his 
mind and shifted, kneeling on the floor in a novel kneeled side pose, and I 
moved over, holding his cock straight in front of him, and up. He kept his eyes 
on his reflection in the mirror, and I looked straight at him. Then he started 
doing it, and I felt I was going to cum, although I was completely dry, spent 
with all the previous sex. I have no idea how I remained standing, but I didn't 
cum the moment I knew what he was going to do, because I felt like a huge, hot 
steel ball was wedged and stuck between my balls and my asshole. As if the size 
of his pecs wasn't enough, when he breathed in fully, it made him attain a shape 
never before concieved of on this earth. He knew I wanted to see that once more, 
but he decided on teasing me. He breathed in, expanding his chest a little, and 
then breathed out, but not fully, and breathed in and out again, the same way, 
it made his chest heave and expand more and more with every cycle. He held his 
arm under his protruding pecs, flexed, but soon there was going to be no space 
for his chest to expand. I started stroking him faster, and started stroking 
myself as well, although I was so numb that the feeling was totally different 
and strange. His cock arced straight up from his crotch which he pushed out as 
far as it would go, while he leaned backwards as far as possible to still be 
able to keep the balance. He let his arms down, and then brought his elbows 
apart, and his chest kept on ballooning outwards, sideways and upwards as he 
continued with that breathing of his, looking at himself inflate in the mirror. 
I thought I was going to jump out of my skin, stroking like a maniac as his 
chest went higher and higher. And then he started stroking it, still keeping his 
elbows up simply to be able to keep it expanding and keep on stroking. I knew he 
wanted my juice all over it, and I kept on jacking myself off faster and faster, 
and him unevenly but slow. It went on and on until I thought he reached the 
maximum capacity of his lungs, his face flushed, but the steel ball in my gut 
didn't go away, it only became larger and harder, and he continued sucking air 
into him and flexing until his face was purple and it looked almost blue. He 
kept looking at the mirror, his pecs so high now he could probably not have seen 
the tip of his cock which could not attain its yard-long length but did it's 
best at what looked like only inches smaller, were he trying to look over them, 
and he still stroked and tried to inhale more, until there were huge veins over 
his pecs and his breastbone and ribs protruded through the huge mass of the 
muscles, even his abs were distended slightly. He looked like his chest was a 
balloon under masses of muscle, ready to explode any second ripping his chest 
open down the crevice between his pecs which he stroked. I looked in the mirror 
and saw on his face an almost pleading look like he was begging me to stop 
exactly that from happening, and the side view of his body showed he had really 
inflated himself up with the air in his lungs until looked like he could burst! 
I cried 'Oh my goooooo...' and the ball in my guts shot out of my cock in the 
form of a single burst of cum which seemed to me like it lasted half a minute, 
splashing all over the inflated size of him, and he closed his eyes and gritted 
his teeth, his chest trying to expand even further and his body trying to flex 
at the same time, and then his cock literally flexed with the amount of cum that 
I felt passing through it, but I managed to hold it right below the head, and 
squeezed as strongly as I could, bringing my lips as far as possible over the 
huge head of his cock, and then I let go. He let his breath out with a roar so 
loud I thought it would bring the building down. I felt his cum jet into me with 
such force I almost drowned, and I tried to swallow, but in the end I ended 
coughing and getting some up my nose, it burnt like hell, it didn't matter, I 
was in heaven.

 There was a roar in my head, an echo of his own, and then I came to, realizing 
I had licked his shaft clean. I let it slip down. He had collapsed backwards, 
his mighty cock now sprawled sideways, soft, still huge but shrinking over his 
half-bent huge legs, knees in the air and wide, his arms to the side, his hands, 
the fists half closed, upwards. His chest heaved up and down hugely. He was so 
big that his head, resting on the floor, went so far down he almost ended up 
looking backwards. His skin looked almost translucent and shone with sweat. I 
got on all fours and managed to get the towel from the bed. It was still damp. I 
almost crawled to the huge superman sprawled on the floor and started rubbing 
off my juices and his sweat, noticing how it had no odor at all. He kept looking 
straight up, not seeing, not moving. I slowly toweled every inch of him I could 
get at, finishing with his huge balls and his cock, which for once remained 
soft. "Thanks" he whispered. It sounded like his voice was pretty much gone 
after that ground shaking shout. He looked at me, and then let his head back on 
the floor again. I stumbled and finally got onto my feet. I swear I could hear 
my joints squeaking in the process. I managed to realize there's no way I could 
use the same towel on me, I couldn't believe how soaked it was.

 I have only a hazy memory of how I got to the bathroom. My first real 
recollection was flushing my mouth, my face soaked in the water. I lifted up and 
saw death warmed over in the mirror, and then realized it was me. I stayed that 
way a while, it took time to gather enough strength even to move a little. The 
pain in my crotch filtered through the haze of sex, and pure, blissful 
exhaustion. I looked down at my tortured genitals. I was so tired that the pain 
didn't even register properly. I still looked almost hard, but I was totally 
soft, only still swollen from irritation. The skin of my cockhead looked like a 
balloon that was pumped to the point of bursting, but then deflated back, all 
crinkly and shriveled. The cockhead looked as large as when hard, or at least 
what I remember it looking when hard, and the shaft looked like one big bruise. 
My balls hung low and swollen, and hurt a stabbing pain every time I moved. I 
managed to move enough to dry myself off, although at the time my standards for 
dryness were pretty low. I was winding down and I noticed with a start I was 
almost shaking with every move. I started my slow journey back to the 'bedroom'.

 When I finally got there, he was sprawled on the bed, holding one arm over his 
cock which went over his abs, sleeping with an expression of an angel, and for 
some reason it all looked exactly right atop of his colossal body. He was so 
beautiful it almost made me cry. His chest rose and fell with his slow breath. I 
found the light switch, used it, and lay down beside him, and guided by some 
unknown spirit in the dark, kissed him in his chin, not being able to resist 
that sudden urge. I put my head on his chest, huge muscle I used as a pillow. 
The second I did that, he moved his arm and wrapped it around me, with a sigh. 
It was warm and reassuringly heavy, and I put my arms around it. I listened to 
the slow, ponderous rhythm of his heart and let myself slip away...

 I opened my eyes. The daylight shone in through the blinds again, and I could 
not move. I felt down and my hands ground into his arm. Sensations seeped in 
through the morning drowsiness, and I realized I was lying atop of his body, and 
it was warm and heaved with his breath, his arm wrapped around my abdomen, and 
our legs tangled. He slept like a baby with my weight on him, not even noticing 
I was there. I slowly moved to release his hold, and it wasn't easy. He was so 
huge, and his relaxed arm was so big it made my left leg go to sleep with its 
pressure. I finally managed to roll down from him, a sizable height - he was 
enormous. I ended on the bed with a muffled thud, and it hurt. Yesterdays 
exertion presented it's price today. I looked around to find something which 
could tell me the time. All seemed quiet except for the muffled sounds from the 
railway station nearby, but they were always there anyway. I managed to stumble 
onto my feet and looked out. I could just make out the station building, with 
it's old facade, and... there, I could see the clock over the entrance, it 
read... something around seven? With a start I realized in about an hour someone 
would be coming to the gym, and the door was locked and half of the floor is 
covered with cum.

 The next I knew, I was in the bathroom, it looked like I managed to sort myself 
out in about two minutes, although I just had to stop to look at the toilette 
bowl, which was, not surprisingly, built into a block of concrete and thus 
reinforced. Even supermen needed to take care of the physiological needs, I 
thought, a smirk on my face. Well, at least it reassured me the last two nights 
were real.

 I went down to the gym, naked and shivering, and tried to find my clothes that 
got stripped off yesterday. It wasn't yet very easy to move, I could almost feel 
my joints squeaking, and wondered what the colossus upstairs feels like after a 
workout the likes of yesterday night, followed by... well, certainly by the 
wildest sex I ever had. First I found some rag and realized those were the 
remains of his sweat-pants. It took a while to recognize them as they were made 
in a way no-one else would have needed them to be, with long zippers at the 
sides. This was no wonder, the waist would have had to go to less than the size 
of one thigh. This guy even challenged the art of tailoring with his size. I 
found my T-shirt soon after, and then my shorts. There was a long stain on them 
that could have only been my dried pre-cum and possibly more, but they would 
have to do for now. The smell of cum was still in the air. I switched on all the 
lights and went to the locker room. I knew where old Matilda kept her brooms, 
mops and stuff, as I had more than one occasion to use them. I found them and 
set to work.

 About an hour later, I switched off the lights again as there was daylight 
enough outside, I could see it through the closed blinds. The worst was 
scrubbing the dried cum out of the floor-mat. God, the monster upstairs really 
cum quarts, I thought, and I must have had a grin of a Cheshire cat on my face. 
The heavy work was disassembling those impossible bar-dumbbells of his. He had 
some sort of screw-on plate retainers which he screwed on so tightly I had to 
use a wrench to get them loose, good thing there was one in the office, kept 
there for cases of rampant plumbing that seemed to have been more common before 
I moved in. Finally, I remembered the magic key was still in the outer door, 
together with the key to Victor's locker and I used it, straining my back to 
tidy up his things as best I could, locking the locker shut. I went into the 
gym, looked through the blinds on the door, saw no-one around and opened the 
blinds on the windows, and unlocked the door. 'I must remember to ask him about 
this lock' I thought as I unlocked the special upper lock. Just then I 
remembered I had my old workpants stashed in my locker and went to change my 
current apparel - even my work-pants were clean compared to what I was wearing 
now. Just as I was closing my locker I heard a car stop at the parking in front. 
It must have been the manager. No-one ever came around this time of day, I was 
sure, but there was this plaque on the door saying 'we open at 9' and he was a 
very punctual person. I hurried it up and closed the back door behind me. 
Besides, I was really hungry and I thought it was high time I found the fridge, 
I knew I wouldn't be the only one interested in it.

 I found him sprawled on the bed, still that serene look on his face. I opened 
the blinds slightly, only to be able to see better, my eyes still accustomed to 
the glare in the kitchen area. His right forearm was under his head, he used it 
as a very adequate pillow. God, he was enormous, and I just couldn't get over 
it. His cock was sprawled straight down between his slightly spread thighs, 
shriveled, and his waist was up in the air, a bridge between his immense torso 
and his hips, which were lifted by his ultra-muscular glutes and his incredible 
thighs. He slept naked, no bed sheet. His chest went up and down slowly, very 
slightly compared to what he did yesterday. I almost got hard just thinking of 
it now. He stirred suddenly, and sighed, stretching, and then groping around 
with his arm, not opening his eyes, a childish worried look on his face. One 
just couldn't connect it with his appearance, but it was so sweet I could have 
kissed him right then. He opened his eyes and mumbled: "There you are...". I 
almost choked trying to suppress a laugh, but he stretched again, this time 
earnestly, which with him meant one couldn't look away. "Mmmm...." he mumbled, 
rolling to the side, and then back. "What's that delicious smell?" he asked. 
"Oh, nothing - just me, the omelet-101 man at work' I said, remembering that 
name a friend of mine gave me, reminding me of my limited culinary skills. Well, 
at least I was good at the little that I had! He stretched again with a sigh. He 
stood up deftly, definitely a morning person. It usually took me much longer to 
just open my eyes... He rubbed his chin which rasped with stubble and I 
remembered my own. I followed him to the bathroom. Now, have you ever seen a 
naked giant take a piss? He just spread his thighs and stepped around the 
toilette. His cock was so long he just sort-of slipped it over the edge and I 
could hear the sound of passing water, followed by a sigh. You just couldn't not 
notice that for the novelty! And the shaking off, or should I say squeezing off? 
I admit I was getting used to him, but if I saw this two days ago I'd probably 
pass out on the spot. We took turns washing, it was so strange having someone 
else in the bathroom and one so huge I just didn't know how to move. I was just 
putting the towel back, when all of a sudden he said "last one's a rotten egg" 
and ran out with such speed I could hear the 'whoosh'. When I managed to come to 
enough to get to the kitchen, the biggest omelet I ever made in my life was 
already on the table, and he was at it full-speed. "Oh yes" he said between 
munches "this is really good". I come from a big family so I know what it means 
to be slow at eating, so I took a fork and joined him. Man did it feel good! It 
must have also been a calorie bomb, I just kept putting everything in I could 
find, ransacking the huge and well stocked fridge, it just felt right at the 
time and it turned out it was. There must have been four pounds in the thing, 
but it was disappearing fast, mostly by his doing. I was soon satisfied, but he 
kept on until the last atom was gone. "Ahhhh... that was sooo good" he said, and 
went over to the fridge, took out a huge container of milk, and upended it whole 
in what looked like two gulps. I could just watch as it went down, and then he 
casually popped out the absolutely largest protein container I ever saw and 
mixed himself a shake with yet another container of milk, and upended that as 
well. I was left speechless. He turned to me, and asked "Do you want me to get 
you something?" It took me a while to answer "No, I'm fine...". I could have 
gone for days on what he devastated in a few minutes. I looked at his body. Were 
his abs slightly distended? That wouldn't be strange considering the amount of 
food he eat in what looked like minutes. It was hard to get over looking at him 
simply because one's not accustomed to seeing people having breakfast naked. 
Luckily, the lingering pain in my crotch kept the thoughts away from the sexual. 
He 'whooshed' back to the bedroom part and came back in a few minutes wearing 
another one of those sweatpants of his. He sat down across me, and propped his 
chin with his hands, elbows on the table. It made the table sag quite visibly. 
He looked at me with a glow of satisfaction, which made even me feel warm. "You 
were fantastic" he said, again surprising me, man this guy could really get to 
you. "Wha... No... Me?!" was all I could say. "That was the best time I ever 
had, oh boy..." he said. He stood up and almost whooping, swished me off the 
chair in a bear-hug squeezing until I could hear my bones groan. We winded up on 
the huge sofa, me straddling him over the hips. I got into the mood soon and 
remembered yesterday, laying myself onto him, cuddling into his chest, so big it 
was like a world under my hands. "I was good? Me? God, you sound like you've 
looked at yourself in the mirror first time yesterday" I said, my chin in the 
crevice between his pecs, and my hands stroking his arm. His head was propped up 
by his other arm, and he looked into me, again that warm glint in his eyes. I 
basked in the moment. He sighed, and let his head down, and moved his hand onto 
my back. I could feel his heart as I teased him, rubbing the stubble of my chin 
into his pec. He stroked me slowly which made it swell and ebb with the rhythm 
of his stroking. I thought how funny this all looked to me, like two lovebirds, 
a stereotype I always made fun of, but I couldn't care less, it was a feeling of 
such content and I just immersed myself into it, and so it seems did he as well. 
"If you only knew what you do to me..." I said, and he chuckled, making my head 
bounce slightly. His breathing was slow and rhythmical, and he stopped his 
stroking, his hand nestled on my lower back, just over my ass. "You are just..." 
I started, but realized I didn't have words. I shifted a bit and played with the 
soft, short hair on his pecs. The last two days have been a puzzle, I simply 
couldn't get over that. He was like a god and compared to him I was so 
insignificant, and yet for some reason he seemed to like me. He was all my 
dreams in person, and he was so huge and so strong and he was superman in every 
respect, but he seemed so gentle to me and I couldn't for the life of me figure 
out why. I felt the guilt in even pondering this, straining to savor the moment 
as long as it lasted, not thinking about when it would end. But I knew I was a 
hopeless realist and it saddened me to think about it now. I was just an average 
guy, and he could have chosen anyone, or any number of people, he was... 
perfect, so perfect, so perfect for me. I never was religious but I thanked the 
man upstairs in my thoughts, so he would allow this to last, and I would be 
thankful for every second that I could have with him. It seemed so unfair I was 
even thinking this. But, after all, I was certain I would not be here if he 
didn't want it. I pondered about the last two nights... "Why did you wait for me 
Saturday evening?" I finally heard myself vocalize a nagging thought. My own 
voice startled me, and I looked up. He didn't move. I waited for a reaction, but 
it didn't come. His chest just kept on rising and falling, slowly. I propped 
myself up, carefully. He was asleep, his face so content. I almost laughed at 
the thought that came - great, now I know how interesting I really am - but I 
somehow knew it was a cruel thought, and I let my head down onto him, continuing 
my pondering, looking through the window. Then I noticed there was a clock 
display on that fancy music system of his, and it showed 10:20. 10:20!!! OH 
SHIT!

 I quickly broke contact, moving off of him. Shit, shit and double shit! I was 
supposed to be at old Kelloway's place fixing the damned press controller, I had 
already done half of the job and took the money, he'll be really mad. I had ten 
minutes to get there, and I still had to go home to get into some proper clothes 
and take my tools and... oh shit. No phone. I moved as fast as I could. It was 
so difficult to leave, but I made it a point to do my jobs and it was the way I 
was, and... I looked at his face. You don't even know what you are, I thought, 
looking at him. No matter how he looked, you could not believe he could do 
anything wrong and I was so sad I was going to leave without a word, but I 
couldn't wake him up, funny, but that seemed even more wrong. I found a pen on 
his desk and scribbled a message, where I am, my address, my phone, and that I'd 
be back in the evening. If he would have me, I thought, a ball of uncertainty 
making itself known in my stomach.

 It was a good thing I lived so near, as I had to run in a T-shirt and old 
trousers, not at all something to wear with this weather, but I was at my wits 
enough not to go out in my cum-drenched clothes from Saturday night. I just 
bundled them up and left through the back door, which latched themselves shut 
with such finality. I forced myself not to think about that and ran pretending 
not to see the strange looks the passers by gave me.

 I got home later that night after a day's work which was actually spent more on 
concentrating not to have a hardon every time I'd think of the last two days 
instead on the work itself. I was actually lucky I didn't get electrocuted about 
half way through, and the realization of how lucky I was not to, got me through 
the remaining hours. I got home, showered with incredible speed, trying not to 
remember another recent shower, and got some proper clothes. I took more in a 
bag I used a lot to carry things around, including tools, so it wouldn't be 
conspicuous. Just then the phone rang. The machine answered before I could get 
to it. "Hi, Greddy here" It was the gym manager. "The boss left an envelope for 
you, he said there's a problem he needs fixed. Listen, I'm having Lenny sit in 
for me, I have to go over to my brothers, so I'll leave it at the desk, you have 
the key in case no-one's here anyway. See you!". I realized I stopped with my 
hand half way to the receiver. I almost jumped to the ceiling with glee, and 
then rewound the tape to listen to it again. In no time I was in my car and on 
the way to the 'G'.

 When I got there, no-one paid any attention to me as I got into the office. The 
big change was I paid no attention to anyone else. The 'big' guys were in, it 
was a bit past eight, but I couldn't care less. Big - that simple three-letter 
word had an altogether different meaning now. I found the envelope and almost 
ripped it open. I ended up with a smaller part in my left and a larger part in 
my right, while, slowly, a check floated down to the floor, spinning. My hart 
stopped. I couldn't believe it. A check! I had to sit down. The clang of the 
chair must have been loud as a few people looked towards me through the glass. 
Of all the... how could I be so wrong? I crumpled the envelope parts with both 
my hands, I felt I was going to cry like a baby, but then, I felt something hard 
in my right hand. I opened it up, and unraveled the paper, and found a key. Not 
a key - the key. The key! I picked up the cheque so fast I almost fell over and 
the chair clanged again. On the check, written in neat print, deliberately 
missing the form fields, was: "The pool, 22:00 sharp, wear casual". I jumped and 
stopped a 'yes' in the middle, realizing where I was. I was out of there with a 
speed of a rocket, almost passing through that same glass window I fixed not a 
week ago. I went to the car, drove home like I was right out of Indianapolis and 
with no job but to get to Summer Street 58b, got there, stuffed the biggest 
towel I could find in the bag, donned a pair of bathing slips, and then I 
cranked up the music so loud the windows almost flew out. Doing my own version 
of Pavarotti, which probably scared the shit out of the pet population of the 
neighborhood, I passed the time until half past nine. It took about 15 minutes 
to get to the other side of town, but I didn't want to be late. I shut 
everything down, took the bag and switched the phone back on from the 'do-not-
disturb' setting I put in it myself, and that's when I saw the letter. My heart 
sank like a stone, as I looked up at the ceiling, saying 'So that's how I pay, 
you bastard', and I meant it. But I soon started blaming myself, for not 
remembering what the next 5 weeks were all about. Stupid idiot! And I took the 
money from Kelloway precisely because I knew I wasn't going to be here! I looked 
at the letter, which has been standing there for two months, the words in it 
playing in my head like from tape. 'Dear Sir, we are glad to inform you that we 
have found a buyer for your assets, and we would like you to attend...'. There 
was just no way I could have done this long distance, and even worse, it was 
near to my family and I hadn't been there for four years, and then there was the 
birthday thing, and the job I got to do at NIS Inc, and I was so proud I managed 
to put it all into those 35 days, practical me, oh yes so clever me, oh stupid 
and idiotic me. I leaned down banging my head on the wall softly and stayed 
there for minutes, fists on the wall. And I even had everything arranged for the 
flat here... there was no way I could get away with not going. I could shorten 
that maybe... I noticed the time and decided that today I wanted to forget about 
tomorrow, and went to the car. Needless to say, I couldn't stop thinking about 
it, cursing fate that just three days before a trip I can't avoid, she deals me 
the deal of a lifetime.

 ----- end of part 4