"Sorry, no towels here!" smiled Jo."This is much more fun, anyway!" Cynthia giggled and turned her dryer onmy private parts "Or 'would you rather have...Mr. Jo blow dry you there,darling?" she asked in muck innocence. I noticed his obviously pluckedeyebrows arching in interest."Very funny," I said. I wanted to say much more, but I was certainly inno position to get the two of them mad at me. Meekly, I obeyed as theyhad me rub a soothing lotion over my body, taking away the last of thedepilatory. He was the star player of every team. He really was a magnificent specimen of a young man, and he knew it. His ego was insufferable. He was arrogant beyond words. I hated Scott Brady, not least because he looked on people who never liked or were good at sports like me like we were some sort of subhuman lifeform barely worthy of the oxygen we wasted."Are you checking me out, you fucking pervert?" he asked me.He had turned around and saw me there, standing, watching him. Evidently I had stood. More

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