off, that I feel the explosion and bathing of that eight-inch ring-headed cock of his deep inside me.

* * *

Three nights later, the blond's business card in hand, I was standing at the dimly lit walk-down wooden door under the iron porch above of a brownstone on a dark street. Only the blinking sign announcing "Club Pan" beside the door assured me I was in the right place. At my ringing of the bell, the door opened just a crack, but enough for me to show the business card, with the scrawl of the blond across it. Then the door opened enough for me to slip through, but then it shut again with a solid, final sound. The vestibule was dark, black drapery on black walls, ceiling, and floor. The half man who admitted me was also dark.

I say half man, because he was togged out as a wood nymph, or a satyr, or whatever they call those horned men with the legs and feet of a goat. This one was slender as a reed, with black curly hair, a small goatee, little pointed horns above his temples, black eyebrows curled up at the ends, and an interesting array of black tattooing on his naked torso. The most prominent of these, as I could see when he turned to guide me beyond a beaded curtain into a large step-down, smoke-filled room, was a chain of interlocked heart shapes descending from this hair line at the back of his head down to where the goat's pelt started just above his crack at the bottom of the small of his back. His legs, as I already indicated, were pelted like a brown goat's, and his feet coverings were made out like cloven hooves. Most distinctly though was that his cock and balls hung free and there was a circular opening in the pelt at his rear where his asshole lurked.

The nymph swished his tail saucily as he guided me through the dim, smoky room to one of four long bars by the back walls on either side of what looked like a small diner theater, with three tiers of descending levels going down to a circular stage in the center. Everything was black. The bars were black, the carpets and walls and ceiling were black, and the couches set around on the descending tiers, more like the lounges in those Roman banquet movies, were also covered in black material. Even the stage was black; it was square but had a round, revolving platform set into it. And standing up from this platform was an eight- or nine-foot high, widely spread X-shaped apparatus, with the cross-over set so that the upper portion of the apparatus was larger than the bottom. This was made out of some sort of transparent Lucite-type material. Near the four corners of the stage were poles made out of the same transparent material that went up to the ceiling. The poles were some sort of hollow tube filled with a liquid in which glittery gold confetti floated.

The theater was dark, although I could hear the sound of moaning and activity that told me that something was happening down on those lounges on the descending tiers—and as my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I could see that there were pairings and small groups of men dotted here and there, becoming very well acquainted with each other. It must have been early, however, as the theater was only about a fourth full of these fully occupied