But he knew he had begun tosweat the moment the black giant looked at him and his wife. Being a whiteguy, it didn't take much sweat to make him stink,...and if he was going totake advantage of his wife's horny disposition later, he knew he should getclean.He stood up and looked around, "Honey, I think I'm going to go rinseoff..." he said lazily, trying to be casual."Hmm?" Katie said, looking up from her romance novel, "oh, okay,Pookums, I'm going to stay out here a bit longer and finish this. Meeting in a pub – not a bar, an actual pub – to see how we got on and then maybe out for a few more beers later on. No big deal. Was I nervous? Damn right. After all, I was meeting a straight guy who self-identified with a subculture that wasn't known for its acceptance of gays, who had put an ad in the paper to meet a gay guy, albeit ostensibly for friends. A normal, well-adjusted person wouldn't read, let alone respond to, a personal ad. Yet I had. I wasn't sure what this said about my. More

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