At this time I call room service for champagne, strawberries, whipped cream and chocolates. You then come out of the room…stunning…as I motion you...to sit on the couch in the sunken part of our suite. It takes all I have not to grab you and start kissing. You sit there as we talk for a little…then a knock at the door… You look at me..as I go to the door…the room service attendant is in his early 20s..he looks to me and then you and sheepishly asks where we would like it…You laugh seductively and. "Of course you have, silly, you've been kissing one all weekend," is your breathless reply. My mind races to make sense of the situation. You are still you, I reason, no matter what you're wearing. I, too, am the same compassionate, caring human being, wig or no wig. The clothes and makeup are secondary. It is our souls that are entwined regardless of our outward appearance. All rational thought flies out the window as you reach for my hardening cock."What's your fancy this morning, Monique?". Like a condemned prisoner, I marched myself to themirror. Nothing had changed! I looked all over but all I saw was myselfstanding in shorts and a tee shirt. Feeling like a new man, I went totake a pee.In my defense, I contend that any man who finds his dick missing wouldscream and pass out."NICK, WAKE THE FUCK UP!!" John screamed at me."MY DICK IS GONE!" I yelled as reality began to intrude on me."My dick is gone man! Look!" I stood up in the bathroom and yankeddown my shorts. John crouched. “I’ll see you guys around.” I was out the door before they could protest. Mom ran out of the house after me, in her robe and slippers, but I just waved good-bye and took off. I found a Denny’s that was open on York Road in Timonium and had breakfast there. When I got home, I found the message light on the answering machine lit but didn’t bother. Another call came through, and it was my mother pleading for me to call, but I ignored it and unplugged the phone.In 1971 answering machines were.