“The Time Of Heroes” by Paul Silverman
--page 5
Alessandra offered to undress him herself, but this spooked him even more. He shied and stammered and finally came up with a way to defend himself. He turned the game of cat and mouse into a new sport: if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.
He challenged her to drop the sketch pad - and more. From the waist up, he said, she was covered - there was blouse fabric from both wrists all the way to her neck. If she wanted him to show bottom the least she could do was show top.
Never, she said, because I’m paying you. And I can pay you more too. Is that what you want, Tom? Is that it?
His response was an icy stab cloaked in laughter, a verbal shiver. He told her she had no idea what she was asking for. And when she asked yet again he said, in a dark whisper, consider yourself warned.
With that he thumbed the cloth at both hips, yanked it down and stepped out. She saw it all, the man and the manhood. But there was something about the pouch and its contents. It was swollen with balls, it was abundant, but it was so much more abundant than Alessandra had ever expected.
TMWFT, he said, bitterly. The man with four testicles. Now you know why ’?m the loneliest man in the world.
In the moments before she spoke, Alessandra considered the possibilities. Her brain spun with them. She could, and should, reveal herself. At last there was a man with whom she had common ground. He would understand her, they could be lovers. Their difference from the rest of humanity would be their bond. But the more she stared at him the more she wanted to turn away - and, in the end, the woman with three breasts scorned the man with four testicles. Everything that attracted her to the figures in “The Time of Heroes” - the utter physical perfection - made her repulsed by the figure that stood before her, this aberration in flesh and blood.
She dismissed him and shut the door in his face. She never, ever ventured again from the world of imaginary men.
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