I softly practiced my flute on the beach when I heard someone say, “Oh my, God!” I turned and an older man sat down next to me. He was immense and sunburned. Grayish hair sprouted from around his white tank t-shirt.
“I can’t believe my luck. You’re Rafael,” he said. “We’ve met before in Richmond, Virginia.”
“We have?” He didn’t look familiar, but I wasn’t always the best at remembering faces.
“I’m Larry Dennis. I was there to recruit models for a company in New York.”
“That rings a bell,” I said. If I remembered correctly, he’d been one of the horniest, most aggressive men ever.
“I was honest with you. I said you were one of the best-looking guys I’d ever seen, but you were too short to be a model.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “That kind of sucked.”
He put his hand on my stomach and started
