Jacob is on the prowl for a pick up. He brings home a quiet French Canadian named Andre, who's a cross between demure school boy and bad boy biker. However, a surprise greets Jacob Monday morning, when he finds Andre is now an employee of the gym he also works at, and his hook up seems less than happy to see him. Sparks fly and things get hot and sweaty in the locker room. More
Jacob is on the prowl for a pick up. Don't mistake him for a player, though. He's careful when he scopes out prime man meat. He brings home a quiet French Canadian named Andre, who's a cross between demure school boy and bad boy biker. However, a surprise greets Jacob Monday morning, when he finds Andre is now an employee of the gym he also works at, and his hook up seems less than happy to see him. Sparks fly and things get hot and sweaty in the locker room.
The lights dimmed as the strobes flashed on. People hooted as the next song kicked in, and colored spotlights swept the club's dance floor.
I scanned the selection of prime man meat. Now, don't think I'm a player. Really, I'm not. I know this club well. I come here often just to hang, since some of my friends tend bar here. And when I do pick up, I always ask around about my potential one night stand. I never bring home blind. That and I'm a firm proponent of: "No glove, no love."
I'm told I resemble Wesley Snipes with a dash of Denzel Washington, but I've never been able to see it. I've always thought I'm a pretty decent looking guy. My job as a personal trainer keeps me in good shape, but I've never really been the obsessive type. Working out and creating work outs for people is meditative for me. I guess it's my form of deep relaxation. Plus, helping folks get healthy is always cool.
"What about that one over there?" I asked Mickey, my blue eyed, Nordic looking friend. He looked up from the glass he was drying and gazed in the direction I pointed.
He nodded appreciatively. "Good choice, Jacob. From what I hear, the guy's quiet, but not creepy quiet. I think Malcolm knows him from his old gym. Nice enough. Stays to himself mostly. Comes in alone, leaves alone. But I have seen him in here with a couple of friends on a few occasions."
The guy sat in a corner booth. He nursed a whiskey and soda and thumbed through a book. He had short, chocolate brown hair and wore thin rimmed glasses. As I drew closer to his table, he looked up, and I noticed his eyes were a shade of blue even lighter than Mickey's. When he caught sight of me, he gave a small, almost shy smile then returned to his novel.
I slipped into the booth, but didn’t get too close right away. He seemed skittish. "Hey, I'm Jacob. Haven't seen you around here much. New to the area?"
He closed his book and gave me a quick up and down before flashing another shy grin. "Andre." He held out his hand and I shook it. "I've been in the area for a while, but I'm fairly new to this place. A friend of mine told me about it. Said it wasn't too loud, had a nice atmosphere. I can actually hear myself think over the music, which I like."
I chuckled. "Yeah, this has been my regular place to unwind for a while. What're you reading?"
His face lit with enthusiasm as he showed me the cover. "Oscar Wilde."
"Dorian Gray." I nodded appreciatively. "Haven't read that in so long. I love a good story with Faustian themes."
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