Mandelbrot Story

            Do you know what it’s like when you wake up and you’re completely disoriented—not knowing where you are or what day it is? I woke up from a complete fog, albeit a happy fog when I realized I had been sleeping cuddled-up with someone. This certainly wasn’t a normal feeling, and in it took my mind a few seconds to realize this what was going on.

I opened my eyes carefully. I was in my dorm room. I was on my own bed, my arms gently wrapped around Seth. We must have both fallen asleep. My clock showed it was about 4am. The lights were still on. Our homework was spread across our beds, the visor was on the floor, a familiar green glow still emanating from it. Obviously we had both accidentally fallen asleep, and in our sleep we had snuggled together, “spooning” peacefully. I was, as usual, in nothing but boxers. Seth had sweats on, but wasn’t wearing a shirt. I had only dreamed of touching his chest and back before, and here I was snuggled up to him. It was heaven!

I regretted waking up, because I had been feeling so content. Now that I was awake things were a bit awkward. I mean, Seth knew I was gay, but I’d still never told him about my feelings for him. Hell, I didn’t even know if he was straight, gay or bi. I talked about guys with him, especially over the last few weeks when I’d suddenly discovered ‘my mojo’ and started actively flirting with guys. For some reason I was completely comfortable talking about which guy was really hot, or who had a nice smile or an incredible ass.

He was easy to talk to, to tell about my various adventures. I’d never ‘come out’ on campus as being gay. It wasn’t that I was ashamed or closeted or anything. It was more like being a secret agent, except instead of infiltrating a foreign country I was infiltrating the ranks of allegedly “straight” guys. Had I been a rainbow-necklace-wearing self-promoting gay guy, I would have never been able to get close to a lot of guys on campus, hanging with them in parties as they drank, bemoaned how hard it was to score with girls, and let their inhibitions down.

Like at that party last week when everyone was really drunk. It was getting late and most people had passed out or gone back to their individual dorm rooms. David Penn and I were standing in a hallway, shooting the shit about classes and cars and music and whatever. It’s amazing how powerful you can be with a friendly smile, holding eye contact just a few seconds longer than normal, subtle body contact. There are other tricks like the occasional, subtle, ego-stroking compliments, or bringing up some sexual context in conversation, just to reattach his mind onto the testosterone-laden thought process. Before I knew it, we were making out. I can’t even remember who started it. I just remember that he was an amazing kisser, and when I was leaning into him I could smell a hint of cologne. I remember his hand gently reaching around and holding the nape of my neck. It lasted only a few minutes, but every second was heaven! He was the first guy I’d ever kissed.

I had fun telling Seth about that adventure. He was really encouraging, too. In just a few weeks I had changed so drastically. My body was beginning to feel really good—I was swimming almost two miles each day, and was planning on trying out for the swim team the following week. But I still didn’t want to complicate our friendship.

I spent a minute just lying there, my face still buried in his hair, breathing in and remembering how good he smelled. I had to figure out how to extricate myself from this position. I finally decided the simplest solution was the easiest. I shoved him kind of hard with my free hand, almost knocking him off my bed.

“Hey man,” I complained, “you’re falling asleep on my arm!” I quickly grabbed a notebook and placed it in front of me, where he had just been laying.

Seth managed to catch himself before rolling off my bed. He propped himself up and glanced over at me, looking kind of sheepish and embarrassed. It was a rare and precious role-reversal.

“Oh, sorry, I must have dozed off. I… how long was I…?” He tried to gather his wits.

“Oh, you’ve been sawing logs for a couple hours. I decided not to wake you, but you just rolled over onto my homework here.” I lied.

We cleaned up our homework, turned out the lights and crawled into our own respective beds.

“Hey Zach?” Seth asked through the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“Sorry about that.” He sounded really embarrassed. It was so endearing.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re kind of cute when you’re asleep.”

A pillow flew through the darkness and clocked me in the face. I threw it back at him good-naturedly, we laughed and both fell fast asleep.

“You should feel proud of your transformation so far. I have to admit, I’m really impressed with how well you’ve developed.”

I could hear Seth’s voice, close yet distant as my eyes swam in the familiar sea of light from the visor. My body was relaxed, laying on my bed.  My breathing was deep and calm.

He continued, “You have a powerful sense of sexuality and virility. Can you feel the difference with your body? With how much stronger you’re becoming? It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“It feels really good.”

“Your body isn’t just getting stronger, it’s becoming more potent. For every ounce of enhanced strength you are also tapping into new depths of lust. After a hard workout you know how you get really hungry, how you have to eat to replenish your body?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you also have a sexual hunger that yearns to be sated. With every workout you feel a burning hunger in your crotch, and your skin tingles with arousal. Every guy you flirt with fills you with a desire to kiss, to feel his body, to suck his dick. You’re quickly mastering the art of flirtation; now it needs to progress to the art of seduction. Every guy you feel a connection with flirting, you will attempt to take it to the next level. You won’t succeed with every guy, but as time passes and you get better at it, your success ratio with improve. Are you ready for this challenge?”

“I’m ready.”

“One more thing: you are going to keep a secret journal of your sexual adventures. You will keep notes on all your observations and realizations; you will list the names of all the men you intent to seduce, and your progress with each one of them; you will create a notebook that could someday be compiled into the authoritative text on seducing men.”

“My secret journal…”

“And you will always keep this journal in the same place: under your mattress. You will believe that is the safest and most secure place possible. No location could be better than under your mattress. You will not tell me about the notebook, and you will have no concerns that I might ever read it. It is safe when it is kept under your bed.”

“Under my bed…”