I smiled back. I’d never paid to screw a guy, and I didn’t intend to start, even with Michael.

We sat in silence until he finished the joint. He turned his face to mine. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle. His jaw slackened. A real stone puppy, I thought, ready to curl up in the palm of my hand. I slid my fingers over his thigh and onto his cock, rock hard and thick inside the tight denim.

“Wanna go upstairs?” I said.

He paused, staring at my face. I stared back and squeezed his cock until I got the answer I wanted.

“Sure.”

I followed him inside and up the stairs. “My room,” he said, as we emerged on the first landing. I followed him up through the trapdoor.

He made a circuit of the room, lighting candles until the chamber glowed with soft amber light. He pulled a cord that slid a cover over the tiny skylight, leaving only candlelight for illumination. It was high noon outside, but here it was midnight. He made another circuit of the room, pulling open the black velvet drapes. The four windows had been sealed over on the inside. In their place were full-length mirrors.

The deep darkness above, the dim light, the mirrors all around, made it impossible to sense the true dimensions of the room. It seemed to expand into infinity, endlessly reflected in the opposing mirrors. I was in his private world now, a place outside of time and space.

The effect was very special, secretive and hypnotic. And promising. Michael had imagination.

I walked to the middle of the room. I could feel my cock pulsing against my left leg. Michael finished his preparations and stood before me, his face quizzical, his hands at his sides.

“Take off your clothes,” I said.

He looked at me for a moment, expressionless. Then he grabbed the bottom seam of his tank top and pulled it over his shoulders. Suddenly I knew who he reminded me of: Li’l Abner, the cartoon hillbilly who used to be in the Sunday comics when I was a kid—the exaggerated shoulders and chest, the wasp waist, the bulging thighs and calves.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “Now your pants.”

They were so tight he had to peel them off, turning them inside out. His balance never faltered as he bent over and lifted his feet. He was as graceful as a dancer.

He stood and slid his fingers under the waistband of the clinging briefs.

“Leave those on,” I said quietly. I wanted to save the sight of his naked ass for later. His cock was hard, causing a bulge that pulled the waistband an inch from his flat belly.

I took my time, trying to stare him down. Michael never lowered his eyes. I could read no expression in them.