" she said holding up her nametag. "I have to check your wound so bear with me." Julie said crossing to my right. She reached over me and gently pulle...d the tape away. The wound was about 6 centimeters long and stitched. "No weeping...looks good." She crossed to the front and lifted my sheet. "What're doing?" I asked. "Oh I'm checking the circulation in your feet, it's common for patients confined to a bed." I looked around puzzled. "But I'm not confined to the bed." I said. "It's ok. Back in the late twenties, around the time that it was built, therewould've been snide, some might say bitchy, remarks about a bunch ofpansies, including William Haynes, being arrested in PershingSquare. Nobody would ask why the cops were even bothering them. Thatwouldn't happen for another sixty years.The subject of all the Gay men who disappeared into the shadows out of fearwould be studiously avoided. Many of them would end up in this verybuilding watching their futures being destroyed with. "Giddee up big boy, mama's in the saddle now, show me what you got," she urged as she slapped my butt like a jockey might whip his steed towards the finish line.Looking up into her face for a second I saw the face that had seduced me so easily so many years before. Two babies and f******n years later she could still pass for the coed I'd fallen in love with.I saw her for the first time on September 14th, 1993, f******n and a half years ago. We'd both been eighteen years old.She was one of those. Seeing she was in a playful mood, I allowed her to wash me, then I did the same to her. She got out of the shower before I did and was getting dressed when I returned to the bedroom.Laying on the bed were the jeans she had loaned me. Laying next to them were a pair of black cotton French cut panties. Wendy had obviously forgotten to put them away with the rest of the clothing she'd washed with the jeans. Ignoring the panties, I removed a pair my undershorts from our dresser and began to.