It was almost 9:00 when they arrived at John’s apartment. The setting sun and the brilliant red sky were being completely engulfed in darkness as they mounted the staircase that led down the outside walkway to Apartment 3C. John unlocked the door and motioned Kerry inside.

Kerry’s eyes quickly wandered over everything. It was a spacious apartment, spartanly decorated. The living room had a two-piece sectional sofa with a glass-topped coffee table in front of it, a 25-gallon fish tank and a La-Z Boy recliner in the far corner, and topping it off were a few pictures of an erotic nature hung on the walls. Off to the left was a small walk-in kitchen with an eating island and three stools thrusting out in the center like a phallic symbol.

A small doorway led to what obviously was the bathroom, and straight ahead was the bedroom. Matching drab brown curtains covered the windows, and the place reeked of simple unadorned masculinity. No frills, no quasi-artistic decorations, just the basics.

“Planning on staying the night?” asked John.

“If you’ll have me.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

“You got anything to drink?”

“There’s Coke in the refrigerator. Help yourself. Glasses are in the cupboard to the right.”

John walked into the bedroom, stripped off his tank top and threw it into the corner. He turned on the stereo and sat down on the bed to untie his sneakers when Kerry came into the room.

Kerry set the drinks down on the nightstand and awkwardly sat down on the bed. He was unaccustomed to having sex in a bed. He was used to automobile backseats and unlit grassy spots. Beds were foreign. He was even more shocked to discover that he was seated on a waterbed as a wave swayed his body. He had never been on one before and he liked the feeling of it.

John dimmed the lights in the bedroom and crossed around to the other side of the bed. “Don’t worry. As I said, I promise to make this last all night.”