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It would have been nice, though, to be a demi-god. To worship at another man's feet and then, just for a short time, to accept the other man's worship. It was a vision that gripped him, luring him back time and time again to the frequently boring weekly meetings of the Mayhill Sexual Education Society, popularly known as the Black and Blue Club.
As Loren made his way down the dimly lit stairs leading to the club's cellar meeting-place on that autumn evening in 1985, his mind was focussed on trying to find something to say to these people that he hadn't said a dozen times before. He was one of the founders of the club, so he had belonged to it now for eight years, long enough to give several dozen talks. And since most of the people in the society had been there for the same eight years, it was becoming increasingly difficult to be original. Like being forced to teach a Philosophy 101 class every year for the rest of one's life, Loren thought with a sigh as he pushed open the door to the brightly lit basement.
Then he stopped dead in his tracks.
He knew immediately that a newcomer had arrived. The Black and Blue members, often tediously unoriginal in their sexual tastes, were equally unoriginal in their socializing. Under ordinary circumstances, the members would be paired off like animals from Noah's ark: long-term couples mainly, with a few dating couples, and only a very few people, such as himself, who played the field. He would drift from pair to pair, smiling and pretending that he wasn't the mateless bachelor of the group.
Tonight was different. The time was barely five-thirty, a half hour before the talk was set to begin, but already the room was crowded. Word had evidently spread quickly, as it often did in Mayhill. And nearly everyone in the room was jammed into one corner, surrounding the newcomer.
Loren, who disliked looking eager, made his way over to the abandoned refreshment table at the other end of the room, trying not to be conspicuous as he eyed the newcomer. Despite the welcome party massed around him, the newcomer was partly visible, for he was several inches taller than any of the other men, and up to a foot and a half taller than the women. A man was standing in front of the newcomer at the moment – one of the Esses, his arm protectively curled round his em in an evident effort to keep her from throwing herself at the newcomer. So all that Loren could see was the top half of the newcomer's face: attentive eyes, honey-gold skin, and dark hair that curled loosely in a manner that made the newcomer look like a Hollywood sex god. Loren wished that his own hair was so well-behaved.
The potato chips at the refreshments table were as stale as always, the red fruit punch was too sweet, and the chocolate cupcakes were utterly inedible. Loren sampled them all, this being his best excuse for staying on this side of the room. He eyed the small podium at the center of the long wall, the whiteboard stand beside it, and the folding chairs lined up neatly in front of it. He doubted that anyone would be watching him this evening. Not unless he placed the newcomer next to him and used him to demonstrate the finer points of obeisance.
Darn, that was a tempting thought. Loren reached for the punch ladle, his mouth having suddenly gone dry.
In the next moment he spilled the punch onto the table. It ran like blood over the white tablecloth, then dripped down onto Loren's slacks. Loren barely noticed, even though these slacks had managed to last him for six years. The crowd at the end of the room had parted, giving him his first full glimpse of the newcomer.
A body like that of the man who had beach sand kicked in his face, after the man had undergone his wonderful transformation with the help of Charles Atlas. A face that the Hollywood sex god would have killed to borrow: full lips, high cheekbones, and a perfectly shaped nose, neither too broad nor too narrow. Strong hands, bare of any ring. More of that luscious sun-golden skin. And a uniform of bright blue, with gleaming buttons.
Well. This was something new. When the Mayhill police force sent its
officers to the Black and Blue Club, the officers were usually disguised
in mufti.
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