I am lying in bed and Jock comes into the room and lies down with me. He is quiet and I realize he wants to make love to me. I feel his penis hard against my vagina. I am surprised since he is gay but I love him as a friend and I agree we can do this. I ask him if he has a rubber. He says, "Of course." I later wonder if he put it on and leave it to him to have done so. I don't want AIDS, but I don't push to make sure he is wearing the rubber. His penis is a bit small and he has some difficulty getting it in. He is a bit annoyed with me and asks me to change my position, maybe put a pillow under my hips to make it easier for him. I begin to move around and he is excited and I am uptight and can't relax and enjoy it. He has an orgasm and I am left frustrated, hardly aroused. I am disappointed and feel a bit used. Now it is New Year's Eve and people are celebrating out in the streets. I see Jock very sad and morose and I realize he is thinking of suicide. He lies down in a large puddle of water and sinks down into it. I sit on the edge and watch, thinking he won't go through with it and waiting for him to sputter to the surface. I watch the air bubbles rise. Then he does float up and I am shocked to learn he did try for it and isn't breathing. I grab him and try to do CPR, but now he isn't a person but a fold up case like a crimping iron. I can't find any lungs so I keep pressing first this side and then that, unfolding him as best I can. It isn't working. I then pull him into a diesel truck. He is a human again and I try to call 911. Lots of other people are ahead of me and it is hard to reach help. We finally get through. Now I am walking back down a flight of stairs and a woman is telling me of the other women he had sexual affairs with while cheating on Melinda. Sandy is the name of one of them. I don't remember the name of the other. I feel cheapened and used and sad.