He's That Into You
by Londonboy
The dance floor is full. I don’t mind. I actually like it this way because it means I don’t need a partner. I can move to the outer edges and dance until my heart’s content. No one seems to notice and no one cares. There’s something about the rhythm of the music and the thrill of moving my body to the driving beat that takes me to another place. I’m no longer the boring attorney at the mega law firm downtown. I’m no longer the guy that lives alone in a nice condo near the beach. I’m no longer the skinny guy that continually tries to bulk up with no success. I become something else. I am one with the sound coming from the speakers throughout the room. I’m much more than all of those world-given labels when I’m dancing. My heart, my gut, and my mind surrender to the music - and my body takes over. It moves by itself, controlled by something undetectable to most human ears. It’s not about being gay or straight, because a wide variety of people can have this secret drive. Just ask Baryshnikov, Mario Lopez, or Neil Patrick Harris. It’s more about being able to hear something hidden in the music – something distant in the beat. Your body has no plan, no agenda – it simply hears something mysterious that makes it become motion. It makes you move like some kind of gyrating spirit. And it doesn’t matter what song is playing – it can be George Michael, Beyonce, Beethoven, or Diana Krall. All music awakens some kind of drive within me that makes me aware of what it means to be alive. I become fully the person I want to be. I am lost and found at the same time.
Even in the midst of this dance floor heaven, this secluded realm of music, I am acutely aware of eyes that might turn to gaze on me. I can hone in on an admirer within five minutes of him locking his eyes in my direction. Be aware that it doesn’t happen often, but when it does I am somehow alerted by a sixth sense. Tonight I am lost in movement to a techno remix of the B-52’s “Love Shack.” It is a crazy combination of alternative, punk, disco, and techno that seems to pump my body with more dance-adrenaline than usual. I am one with the song. I am lost in the crowd. I am completely myself. I become some kind of powerful force that sends out waves of attraction throughout the room. I am fully aware that someone has been watching me for most of the song.
I don’t rush to find the person that is watching me. I take my time. I choose to do it this way because sometimes it can be a disappointment. I don’t want to be a mean person, but often it turns out to be women that have come to this gay bar with friends. They gravitate towards me because they see a man that dances completely free and it excites them. There aren’t many men that dance without caring about how others view him. And other times it is someone that doesn’t interest me. It’s not that I am a snob or look down on people; it’s just that I know what I like and I want to be true to my inner desires. Why lead someone on or make him think that something can happen when it won’t. I guess I’m so used to people making me believe there’s a chance they like me and then I get dumped for someone “better,” that I purposely try not to do that to others.
The song begins to end and morphs into another retro song – the Fat Boy Slim remix of Earth Wind and Fire’s “September.” I expect to feel the person watching me move on to someone else, but the song begins and I somehow know his eyes are still locked in my direction. I decide it is time to locate Mr. Mystery. I glance in the direction where the vibes have radiated from and smile when I realize it is the direction of the bar. That’s something new – someone is watching me from a great distance. My admirers are usually right next to the dance floor. I scan the bar quickly, before the music causes me to turn in a new direction. No one at the long wooden bar or in the surrounding area seems to be interested in me. I am baffled and begin to worry that my instincts have turned sour. Maybe I’ve lost my sixth sense. I glance, hopefully, at the bartender. He is this tattooed shirtless Keanu Reeves look-a-like that I’ve had a crush on for a while. He’s helping a customer and doesn’t even know I exist. My heart begins to become disappointed and I know, instinctively, what that means. It usually causes me to leave the dance floor and eventually go home. I can tell the magic that has controlled my body for the last hour and a half is beginning to disappear. I feel myself getting sad about the evening’s progression.
It is at that moment that the customer being served by the bartender moves and I become aware of a presence behind him. I am overcome with a surge of great power from this revealed presence. There is certainly something unworldly radiating from this being. I have no idea how I could have missed this man before because he is bigger than anyone else in the place. He’s wearing a skin-tight black muscle shirt that highlights his physique in a way that causes everyone in the bar to notice him. I even see Keanu, the bartender, stealing glances at him. I easily dismiss this man as a candidate for my admirer, but I decide to check him out anyway. I am immediately turned on because he has a close resemblance to Mike Mentzer – one of my favorite bodybuilders of all time. This guy has the black hair that comes down below his ears, the cute nerdy glasses, and the to-die-for body. He is muscled in ways that I only know in my fantasies – never in reality.
I am so turned on by this guy that I want to stare at him like everyone else in the place, but I also want to find my admirer. I follow my instincts and allow the music to turn me in a different direction. Right before I glance away from Mr. Mentzer something totally unexpected happens. The big man raises his hand and makes a motion of “come here” with his huge forefinger. I immediately look to my right and left to see whom he might be motioning to, but no one around me is looking in his direction at that moment. I then do something I’ve never done before – I stop moving. The beat is still driving other dancers around me, but I am standing still in awe – of this Mike Mentzer look-a-like. I glance around me again to make sure no one cute or really built is dancing near me. I return my gaze to the bodybuilder at the bar. He, again, raises his hand and makes a “come here” motion with his finger. I stare at Mr. Mentzer in disbelief and finally mouth the word “me?” I also point to myself. To my amazement the buff man nods his head and smiles. He holds up a drink in my direction – a drink that is obviously for me.
I am still not moving. The music is playing, but my body is not responding. I seem to be suspended in some kind of time continuum. It registers that this Greek god was motioning to me. He has been watching me for a few songs. I can’t believe that a Mike Mentzer look-a-like has found something interesting in me. My legs move – even though my brain is screaming not to budge an inch. I walk towards my admirer. As I near the man his size becomes larger and more pronounced. Mr. Mentzer is obviously a serious bodybuilder and I am pretty sure he has won a few trophies for his hard work. I stop about a foot from the guy and just stand there. I have no idea what to say. I am tongue-tied because of his immense body. I feel like a first-grader standing beside his teacher, but I decide I am not going to let him know that. I want to play it cool for this muscleman.
“The way your body moves makes my dick hard.” Mr. Mentzer says with a giant smile.
“The way your body is built makes my dick hard.” I respond. I do not want to sound too eager, but I also want to match his compliment.
“Can you fuck as well as you dance?” the Adonis in front of me asks.
“Can you ride a cock as well as your muscles bulge?” I ask in response, trying to sound a lot cockier than I am feeling.
“What? These little things,” the muscleman says as he looks down at his bent arm holding the drink and tenses his massive bicep – just a little. He knows, without even looking up, that I am staring at his arm. I see a big “gotcha” grin appear across his face. Mr. Mentzer looks back at me and I notice a special sparkle in is eyes. It is mesmerizing.
“Yeah, those little things,” I reply as calmly as possible. This guy wants to play and I really want to show him how well I can hold my own. I take a long sip from the drink he has offered me, without taking my eyes from his even for a second.
“Let’s just say I’ve never had anyone complain about the way I ride a cock,” is the big guy’s quick response. We stand there in silence just staring into each other’s eyes. “I’m Mac.” He holds out a big thick hand for me to shake. I place my much smaller palm against his and his long fingers wrapped around mine in a way that makes my cock pump some pre-cum toward the twitching slit at its end. I know he is barely squeezing but it still feels like my hand is being pressed between two slabs of concrete. He holds on to my hand longer than I anticipate. I think he wants to make sure I get a personal feel of his power.
“That’s an appropriate name for a guy as big as a truck,” I say, trying hard not to wince from the intense pressure around my fingers. “My name is Seth.”
“Nice to meet you Seth,” he replies as he finally lets go of my hand. It continues to feel, for a few minutes, like I have slammed my fingers in a car door. “You’re the most handsome man in here. Thanks for talking to me.”
I have just taken a sip of my drink as he speaks these words and what he has just said surprises me so much that I choke a little and have to spit some of the liquid back into the glass. My nose burns because alcohol had been forced through it. I cough hard for a few seconds and I can also feel my face turn dark red. It takes me a little while but I am finally able to speak.
“Um, thanks . . . Mac,” I mumble.
“Your reaction makes me think you don’t believe me,” Mac says in a very sincere tone.
“Well, it’s just that . . . um . . . I know I’m kind of cute, but there are many other men here that are quite handsome,” I stammer as I reply.
“Yeah? Well I haven’t noticed any but you. How about you pointing out someone you think is more handsome than you and let me be the judge,” as Mac says this he moves a little closer to me. I can feel heat radiating from his large frame and it is intoxicating. My head begins to spin a little and my knees wobble. Mac leans against the bar so his face lowers a little and becomes even with mine. I find myself wanting to look at his muscled chest, but I continue to look him in the eyes. I know I need to come across as in control even though this huge man is causing me to be completely disoriented.
“Well, for starters, I think the bartender is pretty cute – and I might add so does everyone else in the bar,” I answer strongly, not taking my eyes from Mac’s.
“Let’s see,” Mac says as he turns his head to look at the bartender. He looks at the guy for a few seconds and then turns back to me. “He’s too plastic, Seth. I want something a little more real. There’s Hollywood handsome and then there’s real life handsome – I think it’s best to be the latter, like you.”
“I’m not sure everyone would agree with you, Mac,” I answer, laughing a little.
“I’m not like everyone else,” Mac answers quickly with a very serious tone.
“No, you are definitely not like anyone else,” I shoot back just as quickly. This makes the big man smile. He takes a slow sip of his drink as he continues to look me in the eyes.
“Do you think I’m cuter than the bartender?” Mac asks softly and I immediately laugh out loud. Mac remains silent and just stares at me – waiting for my answer.
“If that guy is plastic, Mac, then you must be solid gold,” I reply in a serious tone.
“Then let’s just say I think you’re solid gold, as well, okay Seth,” the big man says as he leans in closer to me.
“Okay,” I answer. My cock is rock hard by this point. The muscleman in front of me is so close that I can smell his cologne – or is it just the natural sweet scent of his monstrous body?
“Do you like your boys big, Seth?” asks Mac. His question catches me totally off guard, but I refuse to show my surprise. I reply quickly and firmly.
“Yes, I like my men huge, Mac. Who wouldn’t?” is my reply. I can tell my upgrade to “men” pleases him.
“You’d be surprised how many guys get intimidated by my size. Many people don’t like bodybuilders.” Mac continues to look at me intently as he speaks, as if he is trying to see if my answers are truthful.
“I think you’d have to admit that your size could be a little scary for some people, but not for me.” I say with a smile. “If we live in a survival of the fittest kind of world then I have a sneaky suspicion you’ll be the last man on earth.”
“You’ll be here too, Seth. I’ll make sure of it.” Mac says firmly. Then the big guy smiles sweetly.
“I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” I reply quickly.
“Oh I can be nice,” Mac says as he places his giant hand on my forearm, which is resting on the bar. I notice immediately that if he actually grabbed me there his fingers would overlap his thumb by a lot. “But I can also be a little rough, too, if the circumstance calls for it.”
The weight of his arm on mine is such a turn-on. I know this guy has to weigh some freakish amount. It feel like a small man’s body is resting on my arm and I know that is nothing compared to what his body would feel like laying on top of me. More pre-cum begins to push its way up the length of my cock. I am pretty sure there is a growing wet stain spreading out across my crotch.
“And what kind of circumstances would cause you to be rough, Mac?” I ask with a dry mouth.
Mac slides his arm off of mine and moves closer towards me. He slides his hand between my arm and body, grabbing my side. His fingers press into my back while his thumb reaches around to my right nipple. He basically holds my small tight frame with one giant hand. He moves his thumb up and down against my erect nub.
“I don’t know, Seth, maybe I might meet someone who likes it when I show off how strong I am. Maybe there’s someone out there that would get off on testing my power as much as I do. Then again, I think I’d have to get rough if there was ever someone that tried to hurt you in some way.” Mac says all of this in almost a whisper. The big man somehow knows just what to say to make me go weak in the knees. I somehow keep my wits about me and remain strong in my response.
“Well you know, Mac, there’s only one thing I love more than a huge man and that’s a fucking strong man.” I don’t take my eyes away from his as I speak. “As a matter of fact, Hercules, I think I could easily come up with twelve labors to put your power to the test.”
For the first time since we have started talking Mac briefly loses control. The man has to close his eyes for a second and I have the feeling he is commanding part of his body to not overreact to my words. It is strange to think that I am turning this enormous man on in the same way he is affecting me. After a few seconds he opens his eyes. Suddenly, his hand squeezes my body tighter – so much, in fact, that it kind of hurts, but then I realize what he was doing. With just his one arm he lifts my body off the ground. He raises me only a few inches into the air, but my feet leave the floor completely. I look down and see that his elbow is still resting on the bar. This muscle beast is lifting my entire one hundred and eighty pounds into the air with just his massive forearm and the incredible strength of his immense bulging bicep. I quickly forget about any pain in my body and focus only on the amount of power that must exist in this man’s colossal frame. Mac lowers my body back to the ground and removes his hand – using it to grab his drink one more time and takes another long sip. I am somehow able to keep my composure.
“I’m going to have to re-think my twelve labors. I don’t believe mangling an I-beam or lifting a truck will be much of a challenge for you at all.” I laugh as I speak. Mac smiles.
“Those would do for warm up,” he replies calmly.
My laughter stops abruptly. I can see in his face that he is actually serious. The thought of this guy bending steel or lifting some kind of automobile makes my body shiver. It is my turn to shut my eyes. I force myself to think of anything that will help me not shoot a load in my pants. I land on an image of my most un-favorite teacher from the sixth grade – Mrs. Thompson. I force myself to picture the sixty year old woman naked which immediately makes the rising cum in my cock subside. I am able to open my eyes after a few seconds.
“Everything okay there, Seth?” Mac asks, pretending he doesn’t know what is going on.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got a little weak in the knees thinking about something. We might need to change the topic of our discussion,” I say with a friendly smile, but my face pleads with the man, as well.
“No problem. I could use a little break, as well. Let me help you with those weak knees, though,” Mac responds as he puts his drink down on the bar. He reaches down and grabs my waist on both sides. I immediately notice that his fingers and thumbs meet around my slim middle. Damn, his hands are huge.
I find my body being easily lifted a few feet into the air. Mac carries me back for a short distance and places my frame on a high barstool behind me. He turns around and grabs both of our drinks. He then reaches to his right and grabs another heavy stool by one leg and raises it off the floor like it weighs nothing. He moves it underneath his huge frame and sits down. I hear the stool creak from the stress caused by his tremendous weight. My feet have to rest on a support bar midway down the stool beneath me, while I realize that Mac’s legs easily stretch to the ground. As a matter of fact, his knees are more than slightly bent. Mac reaches over and grabs the base of my stool and effortlessly pulls me towards him. He maneuvers it so our legs are entwined – with me basically straddling one of his giant thighs. He slumps on his stool a little so his body won’t tower over mine. He wants our faces to be kind of even. I look up into his face and we sit there in silence for a few seconds. I can tell he is pleased by how quickly and simply he has brought our bodies closer together. So much for giving my cock a rest.
“Just how fucking tall are you, Mac?” I ask without even thinking about what I am saying.
“Only six-seven, but my body’s size makes me seem a lot taller,” he replies simply.
“Only six-seven,” I repeat softly, nodding my head in awe. After a few more seconds of silence and a couple sips of my drink I finally speak again. “And how long have you been working out?”
“All my life, I guess. I was always bigger than everyone else and my dad started me lifting about the same time I could walk.” Mac’s answer is full of pride. “I just kept getting bigger and stronger and, well, here I am.”
“Yes, here you are,” I reply almost absent-mindedly. I finally let my thoughts catch up with the rest of me and stop focusing only on the man’s body. There is a question burning inside of me and I am determined to ask it. “And why, exactly, are you talking to me Mac?”
“What?” he asks and I can tell he truly doesn’t understand.
“Why is someone like you talking to someone like me?” I say quickly and with a little more force than I had planned.
“Well, mainly because I’m attracted to you.” Mac answers.
“That can’t be,” I reply without thinking.
“Why not?” Mac asks and I can tell, again, that my statement sincerely catches him off guard.
“Well . . . because you’re . . . you’re fucking huge and incredibly gorgeous!” I exclaim loudly.
“And you’re of slim build and incredibly gorgeous. What’s the difference?” Mac replies. His response is simple and infuriating at the same time.
“You are pretty crazy if you truly don’t know the difference. The entire gay world can explain the difference. Hell, most of the straight world can explain the difference,” I say, mostly speaking to myself.
“Who made these rules about what we can or can’t be attracted to?” Mac says, turning even more serious than before. “So I don’t get off on other big guys. What’s the big deal? Why is that so hard to believe? If we are only supposed to like guys that are our mirror images, then my choices are going to be pretty limited. There aren’t many guys my size and, let me tell you, there isn’t anyone that can match my power. All I know is that I’ve always been attracted to men that come in small, tight, sexy packages – like you, Seth. And on top of that I can really get into a guy that is a really good dancer.”
“Am I on some kind of weird reality show?” I ask glancing around the bar for cameras.
“No,” Mac laughs, “I promise. This is for real. I noticed you as soon as you walked in tonight and then when you started dancing – well, let’s just say your moves got a rise out of me.”
I sit there dumbfounded. My mouth is hanging open as I stare into the muscleman’s face – sure that any moment he is going to say I just got “Punk’d” or something like that. Mac continues to stare at me with a determined gaze. Slowly, my brain starts to expand and allows a new reality to take shape around me. My pre-conceived ideas and my neatly tied-with-a-bow world is unraveling. I can feel myself begin to protest the new concepts and I even start to voice my doubt, but something “clicks” deep inside of me and I feel a rush of new emotion.
“Do you find me attractive, Seth?” Mac asks earnestly.
“What?” I fire back. “No, ignore that question. Yes, yes . . . Mac, yes, I find you very attractive.”
“And what were your thoughts when you first saw me?” Mac inquires as he leans in.
“Fucking huge, gorgeous, and out of my league. I’ll just stare at him for a few minutes and then move on to find out who is watching me.” My reply comes quickly and my honesty surprises both of us. “That’s why I couldn’t believe it when you motioned to me.”
“I was watching you all that time, Seth. I wanted desperately for you to notice me. I would have walked to the dance floor to get your attention - if I needed to. That’s one great thing about being this big and strong – it sometimes gives you the confidence to do things other people won’t. I certainly know my body attracts people, but usually not the kind of people I want.” Mac says all of this intensely. He wants me to get his point. “I’m sure there have been people that you’ve been so attracted to that you were bold and went out of your way to connect with, right?” I nod my head in affirmation. “Well, let’s just say I might feel that kind of boldness a little more than you because of my size, but that doesn’t mean I have to only find attractive what the gay world says is appropriate for me. Most of the time I have dated big guys merely because my size doesn’t intimidate them. It’s not what turns me on, though. You turn me on, Seth. Is that really so hard for you to believe?”
Something incredible snaps inside of me. I lose all inhibitions and suddenly feel like superman. I guess I begin to see myself in a different light – maybe I now see myself through Mac’s eyes. It doesn’t matter what causes it, it just matters that I am empowered in a way that I have never felt before. I raise myself off of the stool a little, reach up, and grab the back of Mac’s head with my hand. I pull his face to mine and engulf his mouth with mine. I have never felt more powerful in all of my life. I know instinctively that my kiss is mind-blowing. I feel like some super-charged Hoover as I explore Mac’s mouth. I recognize that a man as strong and huge as him requires a vastly more intense kiss to get a reaction. It is obvious that I don’t have to hold back at all – I can be as rough and forceful as I want to be. This intensifies my desire and my abilities. I feel Mac’s body tense up in delight immediately. He tries to take control of the kiss, but finally gives up as I crank up the force behind my lips, my tongue, and my suction. Mac simply lets go and allows the kiss to consume him. After what seems like eternity I can tell the big man is so turned on that he is about explode. There must be a battle going on inside of his brain – I know he wants the kiss to continue, but he also realizes he will cum in his pants if he don’t stop. He half-heartedly tries to pull his head away from mine. I finally stop the kiss and release his head. I pull back, but his face stays where it is – he just stares at me.
“How was that for an answer to your question?” I ask, knowing his response already. Mac remains silent. I’m pretty sure he is also thinking of his sixth grade teacher nude so he won’t spew or he is just that mesmerized by my kissing skills. Either way, I know the ball is again in my court.
“What was my question?” Mac asks quietly. He still does not move at all.
“It doesn’t really matter now, Mac,” I reply. “Let’s just leave it at that we both turn each other on. Shall we?”
“I think that is a good idea,” Mac says as he leans back in his chair. Slowly returning to earth. I am pretty sure he is still on the verge of erupting. I am tempted to do something to send him over the top – like grab one of his huge nipples now protruding through his muscle shirt like small Eiffel Towers or laying my hand on his inner thigh close to the bulge that is thicker and longer than a rolled up Sunday edition of the New York Times – but I know it is not fair to pick on a man when he is so close to losing control. Even if it is a man as big and obviously as strong as Mac.
“I was wondering if I could take you to dinner sometime Mac,” I say as I watch the big guy force his body to settle down. My question obviously catches him off guard and I know it makes his cock deflate slightly.
“Um, I was kind of hoping . . . I mean I was thinking that . . . It’s just that we were connecting so well . . . that I hoped we . . .” Mac begins to fumble for words.
“You were thinking that we could go home together tonight,” I interrupt and he simply nods his head. “Even though it’s the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life I can’t go home with you tonight. I have a deal with myself that I have to get to know guys before I sleep with them. I understand if that changes things, Mac.”
“Why would it change things,” he asks quickly.
“Well, I would understand if you were looking for a little instant gratification tonight,” I explain. “It wouldn’t bother me if you wanted to move on to someone a little more available this evening. We could still make plans for dinner sometime.”
“I’m fine just where I am, Seth,” Mac says smiling at me. “I like your deal with yourself. I can’t lie – I want to feel your naked body up against mine more than anything else in the world, but I can take my time. It might be hard to wait, and you know I mean every pun inferred, but I’m definitely sure it’ll be worth it.”
“I think so too,” I reply softly. I look into the big man’s face and we both smile.
We sat there talking for another hour and a half until the lights flickered for last call. When we said goodnight outside by my car Mac hugged me tightly and lifted me off of the ground. Our second kiss was as intense as the first, but this time I allowed him to be in control - at times. I was sure the giant man drove home with a hard-on as stiff as mine. We had agreed to get together for dinner that very night, since it was now two in the morning. We both knew we would be unable to wait any longer than sixteen or seventeen hours. It felt like my life was suddenly beginning all over again.