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He's looking at my face again. I can feel it. That desire thing. He need only communicate it with me. I can feel the music beating. No way to talk. The bass drum is in my lungs. It makes my sweater vibrate. It even makes my box humm. box!? I would never say that. He's got a bulge in his pants. Looks bit bigger than average. It's like a snake, slowly uncoiling. With each gyration, it moves up a bit more. mmm i would like to hold that... To gently cress it. Blow my hot breath across it. Run my hands back past his balls, grab his but and pull it towards my face. Grrrr! I want this guy, who ever he is. I don't care. I don't care about Rip, I don't care about Jamie getting a ride home, and I don't care about AIDS. His home is bare. He must go to the club often as he lives only two blocks away. The idea of the many others pleasured by him excites me. His experienced fingers, mouth, the way he will rub against my body. Wait, here he comes ... with a drink.