Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray Wilder

Chapter 17: Patty

This is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations
portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons,
events or locations is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for
distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading
the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book
should be directed to: raywild@aol.com

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	As Patty drove up to the gym she saw there were already three
people squatting on the pump island waiting for her arrival. They were in
heavy conversation and made quite a tableau. Three pairs of thick, muscular
thighs being hunched over by three pairs of very wide shoulders and being
wrapped around by three pair of large, highly developed arms. Their heads
wagged back and forth, shaking or nodding with great animation in response
to one of the other's comments. It was Sunday. The politically radical wing
of the muscle set was in attendance. These three always showed up and
argued political issues back and forth as they heaved weights up and down
all afternoon. Sometimes their arguments become so heated she was amazed
that they didn't sometimes heave the weights at each other. There would
always come a time, about two hours after their arrival, when she would
have to call a cease fire and demand that if they were going to discuss
anything at all it had to be in the category of polite dinner
conversation. They would always shift gears. One time they picked up the
topic of plants and got into one of the loudest and most heated arguments
they had ever been involved in.
	The only good thing about these three and their Sunday afternoon
verbal bashings was that it kept the crowds down; most people found the
atmosphere too distracting. She was the only one working Sunday's and too
many people made things hectic. Not that she wanted to drive customers
away, but she appreciated having one slow day a week. Today was going to be
a short day for her, anyway, as she was leaving at four o'clock for her
sister's and the kid was going to lock up for her. She thought he would be
here already, but his bike wasn't parked in front as it usually was.
	She parked her car and opened the front door of the building,
walked to the back of the office, disarmed the alarm system and walked back
out to the reception area. The three were still sitting on the curb arguing
some minute geo-theo-eco-bio-political point. She had long since given up
trying to follow the gist of their weekly diatribes. The topics were
generally so esoteric she hadn't the slightest idea which side who was
on. She suspected none of them did most of the time, either. Arguing for
argument's sake.
	The sun poured into the gym through the sky lights, heating up the
place, so Patty turned on the ceiling fans to get some air moving. Her next
task of the day, and the reason she enjoyed working on Sundays, was to
water the literally hundreds of plants that occupied every nook and cranny
of the gym. The plants had been her contribution to the identity of the
place so they were her responsibility.
	She had started a few years ago with a couple of potted ferns in
the front area. Soon she was bringing in several new plants each week. They
started to be hung from the sky lights, stuck on top of exercise stations,
shoved into every corner available until they became the most identifiable
characteristic of the gym. The oxygen they created was a great
asset. People who worked out there swore they could get in an extra two to
three reps on every exercise they did compared to any other gym in the
area. Cynics claimed they were shorting on the weights to give this
impression. This was not the case. More oxygen in the air meant more oxygen
in the bloodstream. More oxygen in the blood stream meant a quicker
exchange of waste products created during heavy activity. Quicker exchange
meant the muscle worked longer and harder. Muscles that worked longer and
harder got bigger, faster. C'est Žvident. The plants stayed.
	She had gone out and bought a water sprayer that rode on her back
like a knapsack. It was pumped up by hand and then a long nozzle delivered
the water to even the hardest to reach of the plants. She still took a step
ladder around with her to tend to the individual plants, plucking and
preening her babies, getting rid of shed leaves, checking for infestations,
generally letting them know they were loved. The plants thrived on the
atmosphere of the gym. The harder the people worked out the more carbon
dioxide was released into the air. The plants were all very big. The people
were all very big. Everyone was happy.
	She had the routine down. The whole place could be watered and a
moderate amount of maintenance could be done in about forty-five
minutes. Just as she was putting the step ladder back into the closet the
political party finally realized the place was opened and came in, dragging
behind them the remains of some philosophical argument that had been beaten
to a pulp out in the parking lot. Something told Patty they were going to
run out of steam pretty soon. This might just be a peaceful afternoon after
all. The three of them headed for their respective locker rooms to get
changed and she headed for the front desk to call the kid to see if he
really intended to come in. It would be a shame if he didn't, she thought
sarcastically, as it would provide her with the perfect excuse for not
making the drive south. Then she would just go home after closing up and
see if her new neighbor was pre-occupied.
	If she closed her eyes she could imagine that huge cock of his
laying in the palm of her hand. She had tried to seem blazŽ when he had
dropped his massive dick in her hand, but the fact was she had never seen,
much less had her hands on, anything that big before. Her asshole tingled
at the thought of that bulbous head pushing its way past her sphincter
muscles and traveling up her colon. She became wet between her legs and
welcomed the chance to withdraw to the office for a few minutes to enjoy,
and even encourage, the flow.
	Just as she had sat down at the desk and propped her feet up on the
edge to get a better angle with her finger on the lips of her cunt the
front door swung open and the kid, that irrepressible bundle of
unrestrained energy, flew into the gym. A whole series of emotions, not a
majority of which were pleasant, ran through Patty's being. It was,
however, inevitable that the kid would, indeed, walk in at that very
moment. That's what made the kid the kid.
	The kid, always spelled and said in the lower case, was the gym
mascot. He had wandered into the place about a year-and-a-half ago. He was
immediately hooked on the place. They couldn't get rid of him so they gave
him a job. He took care of the place, keeping it clean, and made himself
available to the customers in case they needed a hand and, on rare
occasions like today, actually sitting in the command seat, handling any
emergency that might come up. They generally only allowed him to do this on
Sundays, the slowest day of the week. It wasn't that he was incompetent. To
the contrary, he was the most conscientious employee they had. But he was
young and still had a lot to learn about the big responsibilities. Several
times now they had let him close on Sundays and everything had gone off
like clockwork. Patty's confidence in the kid was very high. She also liked
the fact that the more responsibility they gave him the more responsible he
became. In return for his efforts he was allowed to work-out for free. This
he had been doing with a dedication that shamed all but the most serious of
their clientele. In the past eighteen months the kid's body had gone from
that of a gangling, out-of-proportion teenager to one of depth and
definition.
	The other thing Patty was happy about was the kid's own level of
self-esteem. When he had first walked into the gym he'd had a terrible
self-deprecating manner that was quite uncomfortable to witness; he had
literally hated himself. Over the course of his time there he had been
befriended by most of the folks and had learned to see the improvements in
his mind as well as his body. He had also found his center. He discovered
the reason he had been so miserable was that he had spent the last few
years trying to convince himself and everyone else around him that he was
straight. He wasn't. It had been quite obvious to Patty and several of the
other folks that the kid was playing a role he wasn't suited for. They got
two of the more openly gay customers to have a little talk with him. When
he finally figured out his proper sexual orientation it was as though
someone had thrown away the old kid and this new, improved version walked
into the gym in his place. Patty was sure that he was still a virgin, but
if he kept up his current rate of development he was going to have to beat
them off with a stick before the year was out.
	Patty greeted the kid with her usual feigned lack of concern. The
kid feigned right back, pretending that his presence and the fact that he
was closing that night were matters of course. Nothing out of the ordinary
here, no sir. She could tell he was so hyped up about it that he was about
to blast right out of the top of his head. She enjoyed seeing him
enthusiastic. Sometimes it got on her nerves. Most of the time, though, it
was contagious. He'd go down to the gym floor and cajole and razz and
encourage and pump up anyone who looked like they weren't putting in a
hundred-and-ten per cent.
	His enthusiasm for the world of body building was another of those
aspects of the place that gave it its own identity. If you couldn't face
going into another gym and moving forty or fifty tons of iron around, you
just headed over to The Pump House and the kid would get you so hyped up
you finished your routine and wanted to start over again. Many people would
request him as their workout partner. He would sometimes do two or even
three people a day, exercising right along with them. At the end of the day
exhaustion would overcome him and he would fall dead asleep on the couch in
the office. They'd kick him out at closing time only to find him sitting on
the curb when the doors were opened the next day.
	Patty suspected there wasn't any kind of a home life for the
kid. She also knew he had no other income and probably wasn't getting the
proper nourishment. This was especially important in light of the amount of
energy he expended in the course of a day. She always made sure that
whoever he worked with tipped him generously at the completion of the
session. But there was no guarantee the money was going to food. She tried
to suss him out on this but he was uncharacteristically closed mouth about
the subject of where his money was going. So when Patty sensed that things
were out of balance in his system she'd haul him out to a restaurant and
jam a bunch of good food down him.
	"You're late," said Patty, hoping he wouldn't have one of his good
excuses.
	"You're late," the kid retorted. "I was here fifteen minutes
early. Those politicals started in with their arguing and I thought if I
had to sit around inside all day and listen to their bullshit then I didn't
think I needed to do it in the big outdoors as well. I split on my bike and
went down to the beach for a swim. I figured there wasn't anything to do
until you left at four, anyway."
	Patty was properly chastened. She had forgotten she had specified
the time to be there and then had blown it herself with her little
self-indulgence in the shower. She didn't let the kid know this,
though. She just barreled on through as though it was still his fault and
never looked back. The kid tactfully allowed this. There were no
recriminations here, this was just the way their relationship worked.
	"Seeing as I got stuck doing all the plants (she never, ever, let
anyone do the plants) you get to go down on the floor and baby-sit the
babbling threesome." The kid rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "It
shouldn't be too bad. I think they were running out of steam when they came
in."
	"I hope so. Barbara got so upset at something one of the guys said
last week she stopped spotting him in the middle of a bench press. Just
walked away leaving the guy there holding about four hundred fifty pounds
over his head."
	Patty thought it couldn't happen to a nicer person but kept that to
herself. Abandoning someone in the middle of a rep was dangerous and not to
be condoned. She needed a serious injury in the gym like a hole in the
head. Hopefully their differences had been patched up during the week and
she wouldn't have to have words with them. The one thing that made this
place was the feeling of support and camaraderie among all the staff and
clientele. If something like that was allowed to spread it could be the
downfall of them all.
	"That's pretty serious stuff. If you see it happen again, with that
bunch or anyone else, let one of us know. Immediately. Got it?"
	"Sure. I'm sorry I didn't bring it up when it happened. It seemed
sort of harmless at the time. I'll keep my eye out for it."
	"I know you will. If I didn't think you could handle it I wouldn't
be leaving you with the keys tonight." He beamed. "Now get out there and
make sure those boneheads don't kill each other. And if I catch you joining
in with them, you're fired. Now git."
	The kid jumped up and made for the gym floor.
	The window along the side wall of the office overlooked the gym
itself. She sometimes would sit at the window, her legs spread and finger
busy while she drank in the sight of all that beautiful flesh bulging and
swelling. She especially liked the view afforded her by the benchpress
stations. They all faced the window so that when the tools laid down on
them to go through their reps she'd get a great look up their gym shorts at
their jockstraps. There was nothing she loved more than cock. She loved it
hard, soft, thick, thin, short, long, cut, uncut, white, black,
purple. Especially purple. When it was so hard and hot and the blood
swelling it to incredible size just before it shoots its load of cum into
her cunt or mouth or ass. She really loved it purple.
	She thought again of the huge cock she'd handled today and began to
fantasize in earnest about it entering various openings in her body. The
nice thing about this particular cock, aside from its obvious physical
charms and great location right next-door, was that it was attached to a
beautiful body with a beautiful face and a beautiful sense of humor and a
beautifully unassuming ego. That was the one thing she usually didn't like
about tools. They had this ego thing. They all needed to feel there was no
one better than them, there was no one more important than them, that the
center of the universe had nothing on their cock as far as importance was
concerned. The fact of the matter was that every tool she ever dealt with
was the most important thing in the universe at that moment. If the tool
would just realize this and return the favor then the sex would be
great. Great? It would generally be earth-shattering. But most of the time
they carried the whole sexual history of the world into bed with them and
expected to be judged on how they compared with every dick that ever
entered a cunt since the beginning of time.
	Patty got the feeling that Arnold's problem was not that he had an
ego to match his dick, but that he equated people's desire to own him
physically with love. She had been forward with him, for sure, but that was
just her way. The fact that he so freely referred to his cock and, just as
freely exposed it to a complete stranger like herself, told Patty he didn't
have much of a sense of privacy. She thought there was probably a homelife
situation that had prevented those personal barriers from being formed in a
normal, growth oriented way. This usually involved incest or other forms of
sexual abuse. Though this was all none of her business, she felt that if
she was going to be involved with the guy, even on a casual sex basis,
she'd probably end up dealing with it on some level. It wouldn't be the
first time she'd gotten wrapped up in some tools past.
	The most notable example of that had been that cunt, Norma
Benton's, last ex: Mark. He had practically run away from home when he
couldn't stand her proprietary attitude towards his body any more. He had
been an abused child and spent his late teens and early twenties searching
for some fucked-up version of real love. Norma was the perfect source for
fucked-up love. He fell right into her trap, accepting her body worship as
a replacement for a real emotional commitment. When he won the Mr. Universe
contest she conned him into marrying her and then the fun really began. He
became her sexual toy, cumming when she called, as it were. She had no
sense of marital fidelity and continued to take other men to bed with her,
sometimes literally kicking him out of their bedroom so she could spend the
night with some other muscle-bound stud.
	Patty suspected the only reason Mark lasted so long was because he,
too, had a very large cock. In fact, until Arnold showed up, it had
probably been the biggest on the beach. But with the marriage being so
fucked-up it wasn't long before Mark was slacking off on his training,
diet, nutrition, and lifestyle. He started to replace real exercise with
steroids and other chemicals. Needless to say the following year's
Mr. Universe went to a much more deserving physique. That same deserving
physique celebrated his victory in bed with Mark's wife, Norma. Patty had
found him, drunk and very high, sitting on the beach at three o'clock in
the morning in front of her apartment. He had been making quite a racket.
	Instead of leaving him to the cops and bad press, Patty took him
in, gave him a cup of coffee, a hot shower and a warm bed. He cried all
night. He kept saying over and over that he had only wanted someone to love
him. The years of work, the hundreds of thousands of pounds of iron, the
starving, the pain, the pushing himself every day to surpass the efforts of
the day before when all he really wanted to do was go lie down somewhere
and sleep for a week, all of it was just so that someone would love
him. Several relatives and close family members had loved him for his big,
physical cock. He felt if he could improve the rest of himself physically
then more people would love him. He ended up having no one inside himself
to be loved for real.
	Mark ended up staying at Patty's for a week. No one else knew he
was there. The only demand she had put on him was that he make no attempt
to contact Norma. It worked for a week but you can't change the stripes on
a zebra over night. Or even in a week. He called her one day while Patty
was out. When Norma demanded to know where he was he told her. She
immediately called the cops and had them come and get him on some trumped
up charge. Apparently he had a credit card in his wallet that was in
Norma's name and she accused him of stealing it. She came down and bailed
him out of jail after letting him be humiliated for a couple of hours, took
him home, fucked him and then made him watch as she screwed the successor
to the crown. That night, while Norma and the new kid slept in his marital
bed, Mark left with nothing in his pockets but a comb, the keys to his car,
which he had bought long before meeting Norma, and a piece of paper with
Patty's phone number on it.
	Patty agreed to take him back but with several conditions. He would
work at the gym to earn his keep, he had to seek out professional help to
get to the bottom of this self-destructive behavior, and he had to sleep on
the living room couch. No sex until the divorce was final. And that was the
other thing. He had to file for a divorce and see it through. All these
things Mark did. When the divorce hearings came up Norma had counter-filed
claiming that because he hadn't won the Mr. Universe contest the following
year he had failed to live up to her expectations as a husband and suitable
bed partner. The court threw her case out and awarded him a tidy little
alimony which he declined. He just wanted to be shut of her. If he had a
check coming from her every month it would be as though the bond would
still be there. Nothing. He wanted nothing.
	He stayed with Patty for eight more months and then moved out on
his own. He appreciated her support, her generosity, her love, her
understanding, but it was time he got a little personal space and figured
things out for himself. The therapy helped immensely in dredging up and
allowing him to deal with past wrongs. Once he realized where all his
problems stemmed from he was able to wipe the slate clean and begin
again. Norma, on the other hand, still blamed Patty for "screwing up the
best piece of meat I ever bedded."
	And now there was Arnold. If she was correct in her assumptions
about him this could be the beginning of a pattern. She didn't want to
baby-sit any more tools. She'd love them, she'd fuck them, she'd suck them,
she'd even make the occasional breakfast for them, but she wasn't going to
take any more to raise. She'd have to be on her guard from the very
start. It was then, when there was still a novelty about the new tool in
her life, that she tended to become attached to them. And she figured it
would be very easy, and very nice, to become extremely attached to that
eleven-and-a-half inch cock she'd handled that very morning outside her
apartment door.
	All this time her finger had slowly been massaging the lips of her
vagina through her sweats. She had succeeded in worrying herself into a
state of agitation that required a bit more direct attention. She figured
if just the thought of that huge dick could inspire at least two orgasms in
one day then the real thing was going to plain tucker her out. She headed
down the stairs to the gym and back towards the employees bathroom with a
quick glance over the room to see if everything was still in the correct
number of pieces and also to check to see if there was anyone worth taking
with her.
	Two other people had come in during her reveries and were presently
going through pre-workout stretches. The political contingency was
uncharacteristically non-verbal. She wondered if they had quit speaking to
each other until she noticed the kid riding herd on them. He was issuing
encouragements and good-naturedly chiding them for skimping on this push or
that pull. He was indomitable. He was also cute. You couldn't possibly get
pissed at him. He just cuted his way into your good graces and you let him
push you through your reps, coming out with a greater sense of
accomplishment and a larger muscle.
	Patty thought about the kid for a second. She wondered what he
would be like. She wondered if, since his episode of self-awakening, he
would be the least bit interested in having a quick one with the
boss-lady. He was shaping up very nicely, his arms were starting to take on
that wonderful definition when the individual muscles began assuming their
own identity. His chest was becoming broad and deep, the pecs more
prominent under his baggy sweat shirts. When he bothered to take his top
off, which was rarely, he displayed a fine abdomen, tapering from
increasingly wider shoulders down to a tight waist and firm ass which she
suspected was one of his favorite muscle groups to work on. She also
noticed he had taken to wearing a different style of jockstrap. It seemed
to offer a bit more support, thrusting his genitals forward more than when
he had first started coming to the gym.
	At this moment Patty was eyeing that thrusting forward and
wondering what the dear thing looked like unfettered. She could put
pressure on him to reveal himself, to even have sex with her; she was
certain he would acquiesce, but there wouldn't be anything else to
it. Nothing much different than what Norma was guilty of. She decided the
best thing she could do for both herself and the kid would be to honor him
with a little fantasy action while she took care of matters herself.
	She gave the kid the high sign, showing him that she was going to
the bathroom. The kid rolled his eyes dramatically, showing that he knew
what the purpose of her trip was. She flipped him the finger and headed
back through the equipment and plants to the door marked private. The sound
of iron hitting iron and the song of the men and women grunting and moaning
in their efforts was, quite literally, music to her ears. This was the tune
she loved to masturbate to. She closed the door, turned the lock, pulled
down her gym clothes and sat down on the toilet. Her nose was immediately
assaulted by the smell of her cunt juices which were flowing with the
expectation of orgasm. She ran her finger up her cunt to get it good and
wet, bringing lubrication back to her clitoris which was already becoming
quite agitated. Slowly she pressed her finger into it, her other hand
spreading the lips of her vagina to allow the most contact possible.
	She pictured what she thought the kid's cock looked like, with
nothing to base the mental image on besides her own active imagination. She
built an idealized kid in her mind: shy, reticent, his cock hanging heavily
between his legs, the balls swollen, the tip leaking tiny drops of cum. As
she reaches out for the cock before her it twitches in anticipation of
being touched. Her finger nails run along its length causing it to thicken,
the head becoming bigger, stimulating pleasant thoughts of it pressing
against the inside of her cunt. The sound of iron plates clank and the
sound of the grunts and moans blend with her own as she takes on their
beat. Her finger drives her clitoris into a vibration that begins to ring
through her entire body. In her mind the kid growls and moans as the animal
she senses within him is released by her ministrations. His cock is now
hard and long, her cunt is hungry and empty. She spreads her legs wider and
entreats him to enter her. He hesitates, the distended member bobbing and
weaving between them. She leans forward and takes it into her mouth, the
head pushing its way to the back of her throat. He becomes more agitated
and she tastes his seminal fluid leaking profusely from the tip.
	As she sucks on his cock she reaches around behind him and begins
toying with his asshole. Her fingernail traces the sphincter muscle,
flicking across it. Then, with a quickness that startles the boy, she
drives her forefinger in, worming it back and forth until it is buried up
to the last knuckle. He cries out in pleasure/pain and his cock leaps in
her mouth. She fastens her lips tightly around its ever expanding girth,
preventing its escape. He wriggles his ass back onto her finger, attempting
to get every last millimeter inside him. His hips begin to work as his
animal drive takes over. He wants to cum. She takes him up to the split
second before he's about to shoot in her mouth. She pulls away, her finger
vacating his clasping rectum. He growls. He tries to force his way back
into her mouth but she leans back with legs spread. If he wants to shoot,
it has to be inside her.
	The look on his face says novels. She's a cunt, a tease, a hot
bitch. He grabs the massive organ that juts out from between his legs and
viciously rams it into her, splitting her and sending her immediately over
the edge. It's so big, so hot, so smooth, so virgin. She starts to cum the
moment he's inside her. He pounds away at her cunt and is soon splattering
her insides with a thick covering of cum. Again and again he rams his hot
cock into her, each thrust accompanied by another volley of jism. Her cunt
throbs and jolts, her abdomen contracting over and over with the force of
her orgasm. She thinks he is done but he keeps thrusting, his cock still
hard as a rock. Again the waves of orgasm overtake her and send her
spinning through a universe of electric impulses, the stuff stars are made
of. He immediately cums again, filling her to overflow, his sperm running
out of her cunt and down the insides of her thighs. One final thrust, one
final shudder and he pulls his cock out of her cunt with a popping
noise. He glares down at her, challenging her to ever think of doing that
again. The animal will not be toyed with. She lies breathless, ravaged,
satisfied.
	There was a banging at the door. It took her a moment to realize
where she was. She focused on her image in the mirror in front of her, over
the sink. Her eyes were glazed, her hair tosseled. She then realized that
the finger of her other hand, the one that had been spreading the lips of
her vagina, had found its way down to her ass and the forefinger was
imbedded up to the last knuckle. Someone was banging on the door still.
	"Who is it?" she said, none to politely.
	"It's me, Patty." The kid. "Things getting a little wild in there?"
	"I'm fine. I'll be out in a second." She washed her hands, opened
the door and walked across the room to the stairs. The kid fell in behind
her. "Was I making too much noise?"
	"I just turned up the music out here, but you raised a few eyebrows
."
	"You're a sweetheart." Patty decided to tell him about his presence
in her sex dream. "I just had a fantasy about you."
	"Me? Why?"
	"Beats me. Unknown quantity? Seemed like the fun thing to do."
	"Was I any good?"
	She'd reached the stairs and stopped on the first one, turning to
him. His interest in how she perceived him sexually took her a bit by
surprise. "The best, darlin'. The best." She patted his cheek and turned to
go up the stairs but he grabbed her wrist as it touched the railing. Patty
felt an electric shock run through her body. She turned towards him,
eyebrow raised in reaction. He was about to say something else but stopped
in mid-word and just stared over her shoulder at something up in the
reception room. By the look on his face she knew she would see one of two
things when she turned around: Either a gunman pointing a forty-four magnum
at the back of her head or her new neighbor delivering her "forgotten" gym
bag. She turned around and Arnold waved to her.
	Patty trotted up the stairs, sensing the kid close on her
heels. Arnold looked as gorgeous clothed as he did naked, or
semi-naked. His shirt spread nicely over his pecs, clung seductively to his
biceps. His pants were pleated and baggy but revealing at the same
time. She also knew it would have been possible to draw a straight line
between the kid's eyes and Arnold's cock and not be a degree off from their
aim. In Arnold's left hand was the errant gym bag. As she came up the
stairs he held it out to her, shaking his head in mock disappointment. She
wondered if he knew she had left it behind on purpose. She'd play the
innocent until he called her on it.
	"Thanks," she said, taking it from him. "I realized as I was
getting out of the car here that I had forgotten it, but there were already
people here so I figured if you weren't able to drop it by I could stop by
your place on my way out of town this afternoon."
	"I know. Things got a little distracting just as you were
leaving. I would have done the same, under those circumstances." The look
in his eye told her he was innocent of her manipulations. He nodded his
head over her shoulder. "Who's the gawker?"
	Patty turned around to introduce the kid but she stopped in
mid-breath. The look on his face could only be described as "stupid". The
kid was dumbfounded. She turned back to Arnold, bravely trying to keep a
straight face.
	"This is the kid. He's going to be closing the gym for me
tonight. That is, unless he doesn't report in from outer space before
then." She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. Slowly the kid shifted
his glance to her and his expression changed to one eerily reminiscent of
the one she had fantasized on his face when she had stopped sucking his
cock to keep him from cumming in her mouth. The similarity was scary. She
had never seen him look that way in reality and had never thought such
thoughts could cross his mind, but he obviously resented being made fun of
when his emotions were running so high. Patty decided she had done enough
damage and let the kid handle it himself. She knew that, sooner or later,
he would have to deal with such a situation and she was glad that it was
with someone as seemingly together as Arnold.
	She looked back at Arnold and saw he was watching the interplay
between them carefully. She didn't know if he could figure out where things
stood between herself and the kid. Arnold stuck out his right hand to the
kid and introduced himself.
	"My name's Arnie. Shape, to my friends." This last was delivered
with a nod to Patty.
	The kid took his hand and shook it firmly. Patty wondered what
would be made of Arnold's reference to her as "friend".
	"Glad to meet you. My name's Peter."
	Patty turned quickly to him, surprise written across her
face. "Peter? That's your name? After all this time you've finally let the
secret out." Realizing she was doing it again, she shut-up, wondering why
she was making a mess of this. She feared the kid, Peter, was horning in on
her territory. This was inane. She had just met this man this
morning. Okay, so she had held his eleven-and-a-half inch cock in her hand
on the walkway of their building. Okay, so she had a great fantasy about
him while showering, the orgasm from it melting her to a puddle in her
tub. So what? So why was she feeling so...so...so left out? That was
it. There seemed to be this electricity passing back and forth between
these two men and she wasn't being included.
	Arnold's smile was one of amusement. He probably was used to being
stared at by men and women alike, so the attentions of this young man were
probably nothing he couldn't handle, both physically and emotionally. He
was completely nonplused by the scrutiny his cock was coming under. He
seemed to enjoy it, in fact. He appeared to become a bit annoyed, however,
when Peter kept pumping his hand. Finally Arnold looked at his arm going up
and down and said, "I don't think I've gotten this much of a workout since
I left the gym two days ago."
	Peter realized he was still shaking Arnold's hand and sheepishly
let go of it. He struggled for a moment to find his voice and then asked,
"Are you new around here? I don't remember seeing you on the beach. I'm
sure of that."
	"No, I just moved into town today as a matter of fact."
	Peter shot an inquisitive look to Patty.
	"I took the apartment next to Patty's. We met this morning when I
was moving in."
	"Oh, you're neighbors," Peter said with a bit too much relief in
his voice. "So you just met. This morning."
	"Yeah. This morning." Arnold was becoming quite amused at Peter's
reaction. "Just friends. This morning."
	Peter realized he was being ribbed and blushed. There was love in
his eyes. Patty wondered how long Arnold was going to let this go
on. Surely he could see the boy's reaction to him. Was he playing with him?
Was he innocent of the boy's attentions? Was he enjoying them? Could she
have been so wrong about this hunk with the magnificent cock? The truth was
that she had nothing to judge her assessment of his sexual preferences
on. Now that she thought about it his outrageous behavior and apparent
sexual openness seemed to match more that of some of her gay friends. Maybe
the reason he had been so easy about her handling his cock was because it
hadn't meant anything to him. There had been no pressure of a relationship
there so dropping his dick into her hand had been just his way of
introducing himself. Her heart went cold. Was that magnificent cock to be
nothing but a source of fantasy for her?
	She thought truly envious thoughts towards Peter. Images of him
bent over the arm of a couch or over-stuffed chair with this beautiful stud
ramming his huge hard-on up his ass, a look of painful glee plastered on
the young boy's face, caused her blood to temporarily run cold. She looked
at Arnold and saw he was staring at her as though she had just thrown up on
his favorite tie. She turned to Peter and his expression was similar. What
the hell were they looking at? She then realized that she was pounding
loudly on the top of the reception desk. It was as though her body was
throwing a temper tantrum and it hadn't invited her. She stopped and took a
deep breath.
	Arnold waited for a moment and then said, "I figured as long as I
was down here I might as well take you up on that tour you promised me. Can
you spare a few minutes?"
	Peter, realizing something was wrong, but obviously not guessing
what it was, spoke up. "I wouldn't mind showing him around if you're busy,
Patty."
	Patty tried very hard to keep both her countenance and her voice as
even as possible. "I suppose that would be entirely up to
Arnold. Uh...Shape?"
	"It might be nice if Peter could come along. He could run me
through some of the gear I don't recognize."
	Patty hoped this was an effort not to hurt the boys feelings. They
walked down the stairs and began winding their way through the different
stations, Arnold occasionally stopping to ask a question about this piece
of gear or that. Several times he did indeed request that Peter demonstrate
a certain machine, seemingly unaware of its use. Peter would eagerly jump
to the task, putting on more weight than he would normally use. He'd then
whip off his sweat shirt, revealing his developing physique, and begin to
do full reps, his breathing deep and concentrated. Arnold would watch each
rep as though there were some secret locked inside its performance, the
answer to which would grant him untold powers and abilities. When Peter
finished he would answer any questions Arnold had, and he always had at
least one, but would then withdraw and defer to Patty as to the course of
the tour or the next point that would be made.
	Patty had no idea what was going on here. Arnold seemed to be
intensely interested in Peter. But then he seemed to be intensely
interested in herself when she was talking. Occasionally they would get to
a station where someone else was exercising and he would wait until that
person had finished using the apparatus completely and then query them
about this or that point. His interest in what these people said seemed to
be no less or more. Slowly it dawned on Patty. He was just interested. He
was fascinated. Every moment was new to him and he didn't waste it by
prejudging or evaluating before all the data was in. He was completely open
to what was going on around him, allowing the experience to wash over and
around him like a rock in the middle of the stream. The water would run up
and past, changing its course, making little eddies, the rock seemingly
unaffected. But time and water would eventually mold the rock, smoothing
it, changing it. Arnold would take a long time to absorb the information
and experiences and then the change would be noticed later.
	Patty stood back and watched the process, amazed at the man's
complexity. She thought it would be interesting to know how he was
processing the information about Peter. It would take her a long time to
straighten out her new image of the boy. At least Arnold had the advantage
(or was it an advantage) of not knowing what a change had come over the lad
since Arnold had walked through the front door. Suddenly her heart went
soft. Both of these men were far more complex than she had given either of
them credit for. She found the thought of them being "tools" suddenly very
foreign. She knew she had made some quick assumptions about Arnold, his
most interesting aspect being his huge cock. The kid. . . Peter. . . (she
would have to get used to calling him that real quick) had been, up until
that moment, a pet, a mascot, a gadfly. She thought of how he worked with
the other people in the gym, of how his efforts to improve himself and his
dealings with others had been such a success. Even how his ability to come
to terms with his own sexuality without being traumatized impressed her now
as she knew it should have impressed her upon first perceiving it.
	By the end of the tour it was obvious that Arnold had deflected the
boy's infatuation. Instead, he had forged a friendship with the young man
based on a respect for his vast knowledge of the equipment in the gym and
his obvious devotion to his own and others use of it to its best
advantage. Had there been any question about Arnold becoming a member of
the club before, those doubts were laid to rest.
	"You should be quite proud to have Peter on your staff, Patty. He
knows more about what's going on around here than people I've talked to at
other gyms who are twice his age."
	Peter beamed. Patty hadn't realized it, but she had never
considered Peter "on the staff" of the gym. It now seemed so obvious. They
would be fools to let him get away. She made a note to talk to him about
this the first chance she got. She gave him a knowing look and said, "We'll
talk."
	"So, do you think you might be joining us here?" Patty noticed
Peter's stress on the word "us". She smiled. You had to love him.
	Arnold seemed very impressed. With Peter, with the gym, with the
plants, with the atmosphere. He looked around and nodded his head. "I'll
bring in my checkbook tomorrow. Do you have an annual fee?"
	"Plan on sticking around a while, eh?"
	"Patty, with this kind of atmosphere and this kind of staff, I'd be
hard pressed to find anything else this good. Yeah. I think I'll be around
for a while."
	Patty's heart did a flip-flop. Peter thrust his hand out and shook
Arnold's, his face covered by the biggest shit-eating grin Patty had ever
seen. Okay, a great friendship had been forged here, but she could tell
that Peter had his own agenda regarding that eleven-and-a-half inch cock.