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There were four aisles surrounded by lockers. The room looked as if a big blue monster had thrown up blue juice all over the place. The floor was gra... with blue specks, the lockers were blue, the walls were painted dark blue and light blue, and the showers had blue tile on the floor. It was enough to make your brain hurt. Well, Martin was wearing nothing but a cup and some old tennis shoes. He was talking to a friend and leaning up against the blue lockers. “Whoa, looks like we got a faggot. "She has a point!" Stacey mused, noticing that the men were still watching. In fact, a third one had joined the pack. They seemed to be weighing their possibilities. Number three made eye contact. He was lean and wiry, his skin a caramel colour. He lifted his t-shirt absently. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the hirsute trail running from his navel, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. Mmm, Stacey thought, a quiver beginning to stir in her creamy thick thighs, an electrical charge. More

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