Awakening the Shy Muscleman
by Londonboy
I scanned the bar quickly as I walked through the front door. This is my turf, the place where I feel most comfortable. I’ve come here early on a Sunday evening since this is the time when the kind of guy I most desire will arrive. I’m looking for the men that have no idea that gay bars don’t get going until long after ten pm – even on a work night. I’m not disappointed, the place is packed enough for me to find a nice distraction for the evening, but not so full that I’d get overwhelmed by too many choices. I pause after walking through the doorway to give everyone the chance to check out the latest addition to the crowd, knowing everyone is scoping me out, even if they don’t turn and look. Some use the long mirror behind the massive oak bar and some just use their highly trained peripheral vision. I notice some of the other “regulars” get a disappointed look on their face when they see it’s someone they already know, but that doesn’t matter to me. I quickly determine that there are about five “fresh” guys worth checking out standing in the front room of the small bar. I continue to glance around the place without letting my gaze land anywhere particular. I make eye contact with no one. The first three new guys I survey are not my type – cute enough, but that’s just it – they’re cute. I’m looking for something more, much more. As I walk to the bar to order my first beer I take full stock of the last two newbies. Number four has a lot of potential. He’s pretty tall, I’d say six three, and has a surfer’s build. He could certainly help take my mind off the fact that the weekend is ending in a few short hours. I could be the surf board that he rides this evening and I get the feeling his body could handle the ocean motion I’d create. I grab the beer I just paid for and move to my favorite standing place, just inside the large archway between the two rooms. This spot gives me a great view of the entire place and will help me to get a long look at new man number five who’s concealed slightly since he’s standing in the corner on the other side of the jukebox. I use the motion of tilting my head back while taking a swig of beer as a chance to stare inconspicuously at the final choice for the evening. At this point I’m pretty sure that surfer dude is going to be my number one choice, but I needed to be fair to all the contestants.
The view that waits in the corner causes me to freeze with the beer bottle in the air - pressed in between my open lips. I almost choke from the rush of liquid that flows into my mouth. I quickly lower the bottle but I don’t move my eyes from the big guy hiding in the shadows on the other side of the room. I say “big” because the first thing I notice are arms that are forcing the fabric of his short-sleeved shirt to bunch up way above bulging biceps. Damn, I love that look. The guy is looking at a poster of a nude cowboy on the wall next to him so I am able to stare without him knowing. The word that comes to mind as I survey his upper torso is “beefy.” I can tell immediately that he is packed with some serious muscle. Everything seems to be just right – wide shoulders, big arms, thick neck, mountainous pecs, and what seems like a pretty nice face. The darkness of the corner prevented me from seeing all of his features, but my motto is “it doesn’t matter what the guy looks like since his face will be in the pillow for most of the evening.” I was more interested in the huge body and what I hoped would be a tightly muscled bubble ass. Mr. Muscle, my new name for him, was leaning against the wall so I couldn’t tell how tall he was or if the size of his legs matched the rest of his body. I hoped so; I do not like guys that worked hard to perfect their upper body and never paid attention to their legs. It always made me think the man wasn’t “all there” – as if he was some kind of weird modern painting that made a statement about unfinished tasks. Suddenly, Mr. Muscle pushed himself from the wall and stood straight up. His movements caused me to get a good look at his upper torso while I also confirmed that the south side of him definitely matched the north side. He had thick legs that seemed to stretch his jeans almost to splitting point. When he stood up straight I was rewarded in so many ways – first, he was about six feet tall or more, second, I saw that his face was actually quite nice, and third, I got a chance to take in his upper body in the light.
Mr. Muscle was definitely big and thick, but he wasn’t perfectly chiseled like some of those bodybuilders that end up looking plastic and fake. He was built like some kind of muscled power lifter – you know the type, a guy that has just a smidgen of fat around his waist, but the huge muscles that cover every other part of his body make it almost unnoticeable. Shit, I would not have care if he had a roid gut or a freaking beer belly, his chest, arms, legs, and shoulders made him a walking wet dream. I could tell the guy had some serious strength to go with those muscles and I instantly became determined to rope in that beefy bull.
I continued to stare at the guy and let his beautiful body cause my face to light up with a natural, friendly smile – that made my desires and my intentions clear to anyone that might look my way. I knew every guy in the bar was staring at Mr. Muscle – everyone was trying to figure out a way to get the big guy to notice him, but I also knew that no other guy here had the “shark” skills I possessed. As a matter of fact I knew that was the nickname many people used to refer to me, “The Shark.” I didn’t care because I knew my skills of circling my prey before I pounced had landed me in bed with some of the hottest guys in town. What was the problem with that? I took another swig of beer, but I kept my eyes locked on Mr. Muscle.
The big man awkwardly looked around the room, making sure his gaze didn’t stay in one place for too long. I began to get a rough idea about his personality as I watched him let his gaze only land on empty places throughout the room. I also noticed how the beer bottle he was holding was empty and he was busy tearing the paper label off one small strip at a time. I continued to keep my eyes locked on him, just waiting for the big moment to happen. Finally, the heat that must have been radiating off of my revved up body reached him across the room. He looked up and turned his gaze directly at me. Dang, this Mr. Muscle was rugged looking. My cock stirred a little just from locking eyes with the man. As soon as he noticed me staring at him the big guy froze. His mouth opened slightly as it dawned on him that I had probably been watching him for a while. Then, suddenly, the guy’s face turned red and he quickly looked down at the floor. Shit, Mr. Muscle was fucking shy! Wait for it, I thought, and didn’t move a muscle. Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . and bingo the guy looked back up to see if I was still staring. He immediately returned his gaze to the floor when he saw I hadn’t quit staring. A bigger smile crept across my face. The Shark had found his catch for the evening. I sprang into action and walked back to the bar. I ordered two beers, all the time knowing that Mr. Muscle was watching me. As soon as I turned around I saw the guy jerk his head away from me and again pretended to look at the poster on the wall. I made my way slowly toward the guy, walking with an attitude that made Mr. Muscle nervously shift back and forth on his feet as he watched from the corner of his eyes. When I finally stood in front of him, he straightened up, glanced at me, smiled, and then looked back down at the ground. I noticed that he was just a few inches taller than my six-foot frame. Damn, this man was fine. I held out one of the beers.
“Thought you could use another one.”
The big guy froze after I spoke. He just stared at the beer with a face that was full of fear – as if I actually held a gun pointed at him. I could tell his brain was working on overload. He finally reached up and grabbed the bottle, being extra careful to not let his hand touch mine. When he finally spoke it was mumbled and very soft. He continued to look at the bottle and not at me.
“Thanks.”
“Your welcome. My name’s Demetri.”
He looked up at me and I noticed his face was even redder than before. I wasn’t sure, but I think the guy was actually shaking a little. He started to speak, then cleared his throat, and took a swig of his new beer. I loved how his lips were slightly wet when he lowered the bottle. I wanted my tongue to swipe the beer from his kisser instead of his own.
“My name is Con . . . I mean Conrad.”
“Cool name. May I take that?”
He still had the empty beer bottle in his other hand and I could tell he was trying to figure out what to do with it. I reached out and took the bottle from his hand. He watched my movements as I turned to place it on the top of the jukebox. I then turned to look at his rugged face – dark eyes, slight stubble, sunken cheeks, and a Roman nose. This guy definitely had some Italian blood in him. That was like icing on the muscle cake for me.
“First time here, Con?”
I used the name he had quickly corrected earlier since it was obviously what most people called him. I don’t think he even noticed. It seemed to ease the tension a little - that I used his nickname. He answered without even hesitating.
“Yeah. Actually, it’s my first time out . . . ever. I mean, to a place like this. I . . . uh, I’m . . . I am kind of inexperienced.”
Sweet! A true newbie! It doesn’t get any better than that! Wait, it does! He’s as big as a fucking bull and that makes it much nicer! I smiled at the guy with my best “that’s okay” kind of look. I had moved into my smooth operator mode by this time. I was already trying to choose whether his legs would be draped over my shoulder as I plowed him or if I wanted him to lay him face down on the bed. Confidence and charm poured out of me.
“That’s okay Conrad. I have enough experience for the both of us. You just stand there looking great and let Demetri take the lead, okay? I can certainly help make this painless for you. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”
Believe it or not, this line of crap actually seemed to calm the big boy down. This confirmed that I was truly standing in front of a gay bar virgin. A fucking huge gay bar virgin, at that. My cock was beginning to ache from shooting hard so fast – a reaction caused from the anticipation of fucking a muscled gay bar virgin. I also momentarily allowed myself to contemplate that Mr. Muscle Conrad was a virgin in other ways and this thought made me leak a little sweet juice from my dickhead. I decided to take a new approach with this guy – I figure I needed to build up his confidence.
“You know you’re the best looking man in here don’t you, Conrad? Not to mention the biggest!”
I just stared at the guy after I finished speaking. He quickly looked around the room to find someone that would contradict my statements. Even though he was extremely embarrassed, I could tell that he did acknowledge to himself that no one else was larger. He returned his gaze to me and I saw a flash of confidence flow through his eyes as he answered.
“I may be the biggest, but I’m not the best looking . . . that would . . . I mean, in my opinion . . . that would be you.”
Touché Conrad. The big man did have a little spunk after all. His comment actually made me smile with appreciation. Mr. Muscle, of course, immediately took a long drink of his beer after the statement and then returned his gaze to the floor. He was embarrassed by his forwardness – a reaction that pleased me to no end.
“Thank you Conrad. I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I did, however, notice that you didn’t argue about being the biggest man here. Now, did you?”
He, again, looked around the bar. I’m pretty sure he was double-checking his earlier assessment. He didn’t look at me when he responded, but I could tell it was very hard for him to acknowledge what we both already knew was true.
“I guess I’m kind of big . . . I mean, I’m not sure . . . I . . . I’m not really sure that I’m the biggest guy here. But it kinda looks that way, I guess.”
“Trust me, Con, you are the biggest by far. It would take at least two of any men in here to match your size and bulk. I bet you’re pretty strong, too, aren’t you?”
This statement caught him off guard. He looked at me and scrunched his face in embarrassment. He then looked back down at the ground and began to shuffle his feet again. This guy was so incredibly shy it was fucking unbelievable. I smiled and waited for him to look back up. Finally he stopped shuffling – aware that I was staring at him.
“I dunno, I mean . . . I guess I’m kind of strong. I’ve never compared myself to anyone. The guys at work say I’m strong, though.”
There was an ounce of pride in his last statement. I suddenly realized I was getting somewhere with the compliments. I took a long sip from my beer and continued to look at the big guy.
“So it looks like you work out a lot, too. What gym do you belong to?”
Again, Mr. Muscle looked at the floor full of embarrassment. This made his chin almost rest on his pumped up chest. It was a beautiful site. I could tell the guy was struggling to find a way to say what was on his mind. He finally looked up at me and spoke quickly.
“I don’t belong to a gym, Demetri . . . and I don’t lift weights.”
Fuck me and the horse I rode in on! This guy was this huge naturally? That was music to my ears and it made me feel like I was winning some kind of lottery jackpot. My mouth fell open in disbelief and my cock began to throb from the excitement his confession caused inside me. The Shark had caught himself a prime piece of beef tonight. A prime piece of big muscled beef!
“Damn, Conrad. You mean to tell me that you’ve had all this bulging muscle for most of your life?”
“Well, yeah . . . kind of. I did most of my growing in high school, though. I guess I’m still getting bigger some. I mean I do a lot of lifting at work and stuff. I think that’s made me grow a little.”
“Shit, man, what do you do?”
“I work construction and do a little landscaping.”
That explained the big boy’s nice tan and it also meant the beautiful lighter streaks in his hair were probably natural, too. This muscled monster just kept getting better. I was still amazed that his huge body wasn’t the result of hard workouts in the gym. The man must have the genes of some kind of fucking Greek god or something. I let my eyes wander down his frame aggressively. I could tell my attention both bothered the guy and flattered him at the same time. He truly didn’t know how to react to my obvious approval.
“You are one huge man, Con. I mean it. You’ve got muscles that most men can only dream of having. You’re a lucky guy.”
“Uh . . . thanks, Demetri.”
We stood there in silence. I was too distracted by thoughts of what it would be like to be naturally huge like Conrad. I could only imagine what havoc I would cause in the world if I had his body. I took a long gander at his arms and pecs – noting that the skin covering his biceps looked like smooth hard lightly brown marble. I immediately noticed that the silence between us made Conrad very uncomfortable. He began to fidget like a small child and kept taking quick sips of his beer until there was nothing left in the bottle. I didn’t want the guy to feel more awkward so I finished off my own beer with one long swallow.
“We both must be thirsty. Excuse me for a second while I go get us both another beer.”
“I . . . um . . . should get this one, Demetri. It’s just that . . . um . . . you got the last one.”
“Now, now, Con. Didn’t I tell you that I’d take the lead? Let Demetri make your evening nice, okay?”
“Uh . . . okay . . . thanks.”
I walked away slowly, knowing that the big guy would watch my ass as I moved away from him. I knew it was one of my best assets – no pun intended. My tight jeans emphasized my firm mega-round cheeks perfectly and I knew the way my back tapered into my caboose made it stand out even more. Just before the archway to the other room I quickly turned around to see big Conrad staring at me. He immediately jumped a little and turned away. The poor boy looked like he had been caught stealing a million dollars. He was so shaken that he almost dropped his empty beer bottle. I let out a chuckle and kept my eyes glued on the guy – I knew he would glance back after a few seconds. And, true to form, he turned his head back to look at me. I flashed him a big smile and waved. He held up his hand halfway and stood there embarrassed. I turned and walked to the bar. As I stood in line waiting to be served I began to fantasize how it would be to undress that fucking huge Christmas present in the other room. I again started to sport a little wood in my tight pants just from thinking about peeling that close-fitting shirt off of Conrad’s body. One of the best moments in life is when you got to see some huge guy’s chiseled body for the first time. I didn’t think it would ever get old taking a gander at Conrad naked, but there is nothing like that original moment when monster pecs and bulging arms are unveiled. I was pretty sure big Conrad had never been worshipped in the way he deserved and I got the feeling he was going to be blown away by my expertise in this particular field. I knew how to make a big stallion feel good – and I had never been around such a big horse before. I quickly ordered the drinks and returned to the other room. Conrad was standing there waiting for me, like a puppy at the door when his owner returns at the end of the day. I could tell the big guy was excited about the fact that I was taking charge of the situation. Little did he know, but I’d be taking charge of a whole lot more later on in the evening.
“Here you go big guy.”
I held out a beer for him. He placed his empty bottle next to the one I had put on the jukebox before taking the full one. This time Conrad purposely grabbed the beer so his hand covered mine a little. So the big boy wanted to get a little human contact, what do you know about that? I noticed two things immediately – first, his fingers were fucking huge. I kid you not. He had a forefinger that was bigger than three of mine put together. I have no idea why, but feeling the size of his fingers made me immediately glance down at his feet. Shit, I could ski in his shoes! The second great fact of the moment was the guy had some of the biggest loafers I had ever seen. I knew that small children could take baths in those things. Giant hands and giant feet had to mean that this guy’s cock was mind-blowing. I was sure of it. This made my own member begin to swell up even harder. I couldn’t wait to turn this man on so much that his monster piece swung upward like some kind of super drawbridge. I loved the sound a big cock could make as it smacked up against a hard stomach. I had a feeling both the size of this man’s dick and the hardness of his abs was going to be beyond anything I had ever seen or heard before. I looked up at Conrad’s face as he took a big swig from his bottle.
“I still can’t believe you don’t lift weights. You’re not fucking with me are you?”
“No, Demetri. I promise.”
“That’s just incredible, man. What’s the heaviest thing you’ve ever lifted, Con?”
“I dunno . . . I guess it would be . . . well, probably some of the trees I lift when I’m landscaping?”
“You mean like shrubs and plants?”
“No . . . I mean . . . well, I mean like grown trees. You know, like oaks, and maples, and palm trees.”
“So you mean when they’re small or developing?”
“No, Demetri, I mean like when they are fully grown and taller than buildings.”
I know my mouth dropped open. I’m pretty sure beer dribbled out of the opening and down my chin. I was dumbfounded. Damn, how I wished I could see this big man carrying a full-grown oak tree. Maybe if I played my cards right he’d uproot a few just for me later on that night. I was reminded of some of my favorite fantasy scenes in some cheesy Hercules’ films. I was ecstatic because my very own Hercules was standing right in front of me and there wasn’t anything fake or cheesy about him. I regained my composure and wiped my chin with the back of my hand.
“You gotta show me that sometime, Con. I mean it. I haven’t ever seen a guy carry a fucking tree before. That would make me very happy.”
“Okay, Demetri. I guess I didn’t realize it was that big of deal. But I’d love to show you sometime. That would be great.”
Wow, the kid really got off on the fact that he could do something that would please me. This made me go all gooey inside – just thinking about the things I could ask Conrad to do to show off his strength. So the big boy had a desire to please people. That was certainly going to play in my favor. I made a mental note to make a list of feats of strength I had always fantasized about. Conrad was going to be my source of jack off material for a long time to come.
“And I’d love to see you do it, Con. That would please me very much.”
This made the giant smile. He was truly smitten with me. I could tell. I needed to make sure I made the guy happy in some way. I didn’t just want to use him for my own pleasure and he not get anything out of it – oh wait, maybe I did. No, I did want to make him happy, too.
“And what could I do to please you, Conrad?”
The huge man’s face lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. I could tell that he had never placed himself in a situation to be asked that question. I could also see that he had thought about the answer to this question for a long time – maybe even years. He leaned toward me and whispered, as if he had a secret that no one else could hear. I noticed there was, however, no hesitation when it came to answering.
“Would you . . . I mean you don’t have to, but . . . would you let me . . . sometime . . . umm . . . would you let me show off my muscles for you sometime?”