Pumping Andre
C.J. Sneere
About: 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.
Excerpt: 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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