An American Muscleman in London 10
by Londonboy
The Second Full Moon – Continued
I could not help but be happy as Manfred and I walked to lunch. He wanted to take me to one of his favorite restaurants. He had told me that it would make me especially happy. I was feeling good because I was with this great guy (and could not help but notice the people that stared as he walked by) and I was feeling awesome. I felt like a million bucks. I still felt like I should go work out some more. My muscles wanted more attention. They wanted more weight to challenge them. I kept thinking about going back to Mark’s Body Shop tomorrow and repeating the same exercises that Quan had shown me today. That seemed to make my body crave more action – as if waiting until tomorrow would not be possible. This was all a new feeling for me. I gave some credit to how I was feeling to the stunning man walking beside me.
“You seem to be in a great mood,” Manfred said turning to me as we walked.
“I am,” I said, “My work out and my run has made me feel great.” I suddenly did not care how I sounded to Manfred. I was just being myself and being completely honest. I think it was partially what he brought out in me and partially how my body made me feel.
“Well something is working. You seem taller to me today. Are you wearing higher shoes?” he asked.
“No, actually they are smaller. Maybe you didn’t notice because we were sitting down a lot.” I said - not remembering that I had mysteriously gained three inches recently. I was too happy that he was noticing something about me. It made me feel good and empowered.
“You also seem bigger, somehow,” Manfred added. “It must be your good mood.”
“I think that’s it,” I said looking at him – trying to figure out what he was thinking.
We came to a restaurant near the edge of Covent Garden called Christopher’s. I noticed that they specialized in American Cuisine. That was why Manfred thought I would like it. And he was right. The restaurant part of the place was on the second floor. A large bar and lounge area made up the first floor. The host knew Manfred, of course, and directed us to a pre-arranged table. It was obvious that Manfred had called ahead for this table. He had planned this earlier today. I was flattered and a little bothered at the same time. It made me happy that he wanted to take me to lunch at a great place, but it bothered me that he knew I would come – since the reservation had already been made. I let it go - because the white linens, the impeccable staff, the exquisite wine list and the atmosphere of the place made me happy to be there. We had just sat down when a huge body-builder looking guy walked up to our table. He was huge. I am sure he was 6’4’” and his muscled body made him look even taller. He looked Italian or Spanish – dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin.
“Manfred! It has been too long, my friend,” the behemoth said looking straight at Manfred and extending his gigantic muscled hand.
“Paulo,” Manfred said smiling and I noticed a change in Manfred’s personality immediately. He became less sure of himself. He lost the control that he exuded at other times. I was amazed at how he became different – more hesitant around this big guy. It was my first glimpse of Manfred’s timid side. Manfred felt inadequate next to this guy named Paulo. Could that be one of the reasons he was attracted to big guys – they were able to make him feel like he could be out of control. I filed this thought away for further contemplation at a later date. At this moment Manfred was introducing Paulo to me. “This is my friend, Anthony. He has just moved here from the states. Anthony, this is a good friend, Paulo.”
Paulo turned to me and I saw what the attraction was for Manfred. Paulo was a beautiful specimen of a man. He had wide shoulders, a huge chest, arms that showed their size even through a rust-colored linen shirt, and the kind of Italian face that filled famous paintings of beautiful men in museums. He smiled and the whiteness of his teeth contrasted his olive skin perfectly. “Anthony,” he said in a light, but distinguishable accent, “It is lovely to meet you. Any friend of Manfred is a friend of mine.”
We grabbed hands to shake and something took over me. I felt like a dog wanting to mark its territory. I squeezed with all my might in hopes that I would hurt Paulo’s hand – I wanted him to know that his presence was a threat to my friendship (or something more) with Manfred. How silly it was of me to think my grip would do anything to Paulo’s muscled hand. The pressure I did exert had a completely different effect on Paulo than intended. It was obvious that he took it as a subtle pass. He squeezed back and winked at me.
“It is nice to meet you Paulo,” I said trying to pull my hand back but he would not let go.
“That is a fine grip you have there, my American friend,” Paulo said and he was obviously flirting. “You must work out. I am a trainer – maybe I could help you sometime.”
I know I turned red and said, “I just joined a gym and have a trainer, thank you.”
“My loss,” Paulo said and finally let go of my hand. I could still feel the pressure of his grip on my hand for a few minutes.
“Paulo is a great trainer, Anthony. I would take him up on his offer. He is so popular that some people wait for years to get him as their trainer. He trains me, in fact.” Manfred said gaining some of his previous attitude back. He still seemed to be in awe of Paulo, though.
“If only Manfred would come to sessions,” Paulo said. “He is constantly a - how do you say, - "no-show" for appointments. But it looks like our friend, Anthony, would not miss a session. Right, Anthony?”
“I, uh, I do like to work out,” I stammered. “I find it very rewarding.” Who was this person inside of me answering this way?
Paulo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather holder. He slid out a card and handed it to me, “Well, if you ever want some work out tips or just need someone to help you get adjusted to London, give me a call. I remember what it was like to move here.”
I took the card and said, “Thank you Paulo, I will.” I noticed that this short exchange had gotten a reaction from Manfred.
He immediately got Paulo’s attention by saying, “Paulo, we’re on for Tuesday afternoon, right?” I could tell that Manfred did not want me to move in on what he thought was his territory.
“Yes, Manfred,” Paulo said, “as long as you show up.” Paulo was smiling and he turned from Manfred back to me. “I will bet he does not show.” He then laid a big hand on my shoulder, squeezed gently, and added, “It was great to meet you Anthony. I hope I get to see you again. Bye Manfred.” And with that Paulo left our table.
Manfred immediately looked down at his menu – avoiding my look completely. I was beginning to see Manfred in a totally different light. I now understood that Manfred was, in fact, a muscle whore. He had told me the truth last night – he felt great joy from being with a guy bigger than him. It was the only situation that he didn’t have to be his confident – slightly cocky – self. I bet myself that Manfred’s place in society and his need to be a certain type of person for his family (and his family’s business) must cause him to be “on” all the time. I had a sneaky feeling that when Manfred was with a big muscle guy he was happy because he didn’t have to be in control – he could let someone else be boss for a while. This explained so much about his interaction with Paulo and his obvious jealousy of Paulo’s attention towards me. This made a question pop into my head and I did not filter it before I spoke.
“Manfred, does your family know you are gay?” I asked looking straight at him.
He looked up from his menu and said, “What an odd question, Anthony. What has made you ask that?”
“I don’t know, I just got an overwhelming sensation that you lead a double life. Am I right?” I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, but I didn’t care. Was I trying to hurt him since he had caused me pain last night? I didn’t think so. I believe I just wanted to know him more. Yes, that was it. I was trying to scratch the confident surface he had and learn more about his life - his true self. I did not want to hurt him – somehow I knew I was unable to hurt him. I didn’t have it in me to cause him pain. I loved him too much.
“Well, if you must know, Anthony, no, my parents do not know I am gay,” he said returning to his menu. It was then that I remembered John had told me he was an only child. “I assume from your question that your family knows about you.”
“Yes, Manfred. They do. My friends and my family know. I didn’t tell anyone at my job in Houston, but I do intend to be totally open at work here in London,” I felt so proud as I said this. I could tell Manfred took my obvious pride as a slam against him.
“Well, Anthony, bully for you,” he said lowering his menu, “I, however, have the incredible obligation to continue my family line. I also have the task of making sure all our wealth and property stays in the family. Things are much different here in England. We are not all able, as you, to pick up and live care free for three years or so.”
I had obviously struck a raw nerve, but I also thought our chance meeting with Paulo and his attention to me was causing part of this response. “I’m sorry Manfred. I did not mean to upset you. Really. If you want to know the truth I was trying to get to know you better. I had a hunch about you from our meeting with Paulo.”
His face softened immediately and he said, “A hunch about me, you say. Please Anthony, do share.”
I was amazed at how blunt I was being, but Manfred brought it out of me. He made me feel incredibly comfortable with myself and with him. I said, “Manfred, I believe that one of the reasons you are attracted to huge muscled men is that they allow you to let go of control. You are asked to be many things in your life and to represent many things – an heir, a leader of a business, an only son, and much more. I think you like being with big guys because they seem to protect you from that part of your life. You probably like letting them be in charge when you are with them – letting them make decisions and tell you what to do.” His face flushed bright red immediately. I knew that I had hit the nail right on the head. We sat in silence for a few seconds – just staring at each other. I could see he was trying hard to gain control of his emotions before speaking. I was amazed at how this knowledge of his vulnerability had made my cock hard. I was turned on by the thought of this man – a man of incredible beauty and confidence – wanting to be taken care of, as well.
Manfred finally smiled his killer smile, having re-gained his confidence and said, “I knew last night that you and I would be great friends, Anthony (the word friend did not hurt as much as it had last night). I knew you understood me in ways that no one else could comprehend. It will be very good to have someone that I can share so much with. I am very glad that we have found each other.”
I noticed he had not confirmed or denied anything. It didn’t matter – I knew I was right. Our bond had just gotten tighter. I knew – at that moment - our friendship would always be very strong. I knew that we would be able to share anything with each other. I began to be at peace with what we were becoming - friends. And the depth of our friendship had not even begun to be explored – it was apparent that both of us knew this. I smiled back at him and nodded. “Yes, Manfred. We are both very lucky.”
“Shall we have some champagne to celebrate?” Manfred asked and he knew my increased smile and slight laughter was my answer. He called the waiter over and ordered what I knew must be a very expensive bottle of champagne – because of the surprised look on the guy’s face. And when I had my first sip I also knew it was expensive – because it was so smooth and tasted fantastic. Manfred and I went on to talk of many things. He asked about my family and I asked about his parents. He insisted that he take me to his family’s house in the Cotswolds at some point and I told him I would love to visit his home. A second bottle of champagne was ordered and we both enjoyed great food for lunch. During our coffee Manfred asked if I minded that he needed to step across the room and speak to a friend of his father who was also a business associate. He said it would be terribly rude of him to ignore the fellow. I told him that I didn’t mind.
After he stepped away from the table, as I was basking in the joy caused by the champagne and our conversation, the host of the restaurant walked up to our table. “Are you Anthony?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes, I am,” I replied looking at him.
“I have a note for you, sir” he said handing me a folded slip of paper.
“Who is it from?” I asked.
“The gentleman did not give me a name, sir. He just stepped in downstairs and said please give this to Anthony in the restaurant and then gave an accurate description of you. He left without saying another word,” the host explained.
“What did he look like?” I pressed further.
“He was tall, short blonde hair, and nice looking, sir,” the guy answered and we both knew he was describing half of the men in this area of town.
“Thank you. Thank you very much,” I said opening the note as the host walked away.
Two sentences appeared in the middle of the paper in non-descript handwriting. It said:
Anthony, do not be afraid of the growth of your body. It is part of your journey.
I was immediately taken back to the strangeness of my visit to the gym this morning. It was true - I had indeed grown. It was not just a figment of my overactive imagination or a mistake of the trainer from Tuesday. This did not explain the missing Mark and Melody, though. Come to think of it – it didn’t explain the growth, either! I was just so happy to know I wasn’t going crazy that I had forgotten about how no one grows that much in such a short time – for no apparent reason. And, yet, the note did seem to make me feel less scared about the actual growth. But who knew about this? Who was watching me close enough to know I had grown. Or, more importantly, who or what was causing me to grow? My body did not turn to fear as I went through these thoughts. My body actually began to feel more energized or more powerful – like the note had opened Pandora’s box or something. I somehow sensed the note was from a friend and the growth was part of some plan – some destiny. I didn’t feel fear – I felt satisfaction and peace. I had earlier thought I might need to go see a doctor to make sure I was not ill, but the note somehow assured me that no doctor was needed. I found myself ready for what this growth brought with it. I was taken back, yet again, to my dream from a few nights ago. This growth was part of my preparation – preparation for what was the only question. I was lost in thought when Manfred sat back down at the table.
“Well, something has made you all aglow!” he said smiling at me. “Are you drunk or just happy that I returned?” There was the confident cocky Manfred I knew. He wasn’t flirting, exactly, he just liked to make sure people adored him. In less than twenty-four hours I had already learned this about him. He had obviously not noticed the note being delivered to me. I quickly closed my hand around the note and slipped it into my pocket.
“Trust me – it’s the champagne,” I said smiling at him – once again lost in his presence. I had forgotten the note immediately.
“Shall we go? I have paid the bill – and no arguments. I know you – you will want to argue about paying your half, but there are no options. I am in charge here,” he said smiling and then standing. The old Manfred had totally returned. I didn’t even begin to argue. I was having too great an afternoon to argue over what was probably a bill that equaled half of my weekly pay. I felt happy and very energized. I wanted to go and work out all over again. I also knew that I needed sex and in a bad way. My new body and my new energy were screaming for some kind of contact – what kind I didn’t exactly know.
*****
It had turned out to be a great day. The sun was shining and a light breeze prevented it from being too hot in the sunlight. Manfred said he would walk with me back to my place because his car was parked near there. We decided to walk through the Convent Garden Piazza. It was a great area – a huge open square that prevented cars from being able to drive through. It had huge cobblestones that looked like they had been there for centuries. In the center of the square was a big building that housed restaurants, shops and an open market. This place was known for its street performers, as well as its pickpockets. It reminded me instantly of the place where Henry Higgins would have noticed Eliza Doolittle selling flowers. We entered the piazza from the southeast corner. Manfred was saying something about making dinner plans for Monday night when the hairs on the back of my neck bristled in anticipation of some kind of trouble. I somehow knew a lady was in distress a few seconds before we heard her scream. My body instantly jumped into action when I heard the scream. I suddenly took off along the southern side of the piazza even though the scream had come from the northeast side. I was able to run through the crowd with no problem – dodging people and gaining speed. My instincts told me where the guy was running to before I actually saw the man who had grabbed the lady’s purse. The crowd was moving out of the guy’s way quickly as he traveled to the northwest side of the piazza. My body was controlling everything. There was no intentional thought causing me to move like I was – it was all by instinct. Even though the guy had been running a few seconds before me and was at the other end of the piazza I easily passed him along the sidewalk beside the road he was on. I got directly in front of him and lowered my shoulder before he even knew what was happening. As he connected with me I noticed some pain but my body knew what to do. I gave slightly with my shoulder during the impact and then stood up causing the guy to go flipping over my back and come down hard on the cobblestones. The impact stunned him greatly and I quickly turned, bent down, and pressed a knee into his chest. I realized quickly that he was not going anywhere – the impact had hurt too much. I reached out and grabbed the purse from his hands and used my legs to pin his arms.
By this time two other gentleman had decided to be part of the rescue. They came over and knelt down to help hold the guy. Two officers, I came to find out they are known as constables, arrived at that time and I stood up. I was breathing hard and the reality of what I had just done was dawning on me. I couldn’t explain a thing. My body had just taken over all control when it happened. I just followed my instincts. The police constables were thanking me and calling me a hero as Manfred walked up. His face showed how stunned he was at my moment of glory.
“Are you alright?” he asked when he got to me. “That was amazing, Anthony.”
“I think I need to sit down for a second,” was all I could say and I immediately sat down on the curb. People were patting me on the back and saying that I had been amazing. I was still breathing hard and my body was pumping with excitement, adrenaline, and an unexplainable need for more . . . more what . . . more adventure. That was it – I wanted more of this “rush” that was consuming my body at the moment. The constables thanked me again, took my name and address, and then took the guy away. The woman who owned the purse was there. She bent down gave me a hug and thanked me over and over again. I looked at her - almost not registering anything she was saying. All I could say was, “You’re welcome.” The crowd finally dispersed and Manfred sat beside me on the curb.
“Anthony, what came over you? I didn’t know you could move that fast,” he said obviously impressed.
“Neither did I,” I replied.
“He could have had a weapon, Anthony. You could have been hurt. You need to be more careful,” Manfred said in a truly concerned voice.
I didn’t tell Manfred that I instinctively knew the guy was unarmed. That would have been too much for him or me to handle at the moment. But I had known that fact – somehow. All I said was, “Manfred, I had to help the lady in need. I had to. I didn’t have a choice.”
Manfred had a confused look on his face. I’m sure it matched the confused face I made as I said what I said. Even though it made perfect sense to me, I knew how it must sound to him. “Well, you certainly did, my friend, you certainly did. Are you able to walk now?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. Let’s go,” I said standing up. “I’m sorry to have delayed you, Manfred.”
“Nonsense, Anthony, nonsense. The excitement got my heart beating faster,” Manfred said helping me to stand.
“Yeah, you and me both,” I said laughing.
We walked in silence for a few minutes. I think both of us were re-living in our minds what had just happened. Somehow I knew I had impressed Manfred, in a special way. I also knew that part of why I had done it was to accomplish that goal – to impress him. Yes, I wanted to help the woman and stop the thief, but I also wanted Manfred to see me in a different way. I wanted him to know my goodness. Yes. And to know my abilities. But what abilities did I mean. It was all so confusing. At this point we reached the front of my building. I sensed Manfred wanted to say something important, but he chose not to.
“Well, Anthony, you certainly made this a very exciting day. Thank you for a great lunch and a heroic display. I was very impressed. Now, as for Monday night – you can join me for dinner, yes?” He asked smiling at me.
“Sure, Manfred. That would be great. What time and where?” I replied.
“I am going to my parent’s home up north for the weekend. I will return Monday afternoon. Let’s say come to my place around seven,” he said as he took a card from his wallet and handed it to me. “My place is just south of St. James’ park. It is an easy walk from here or you can take a taxi. It will be the two of us and a few other friends – nothing too formal. No need to dress up.”
“That will be great Manfred. Have a great weekend,” I said holding out my hand. Manfred shook it tightly. I knew our friendship had moved to new heights today. I knew he felt the same way.
“You have a great weekend too, Anthony. And please leave the capture of thieves to the proper authorities. I do not want anything happening to you. You have barely been in London for a week.” He said smiling and beginning to walk away. He then turned and said, “It is as if you thought you had some guardian angels looking out for you or something.” Manfred smiled at this thought, then turned, and walked away.
“I'm sure I do, Manfred. I'm sure I do,” I thought to myself, but I did not dare say it out loud.