Muscle Speed Dating
by Londonboy
The Billionaire
Why in the hell did I say yes to this? Oh yeah, it probably has something to do with my fetish for muscles. Look at the guys across the room; they look like a bunch of giant bulls in a corral ready for slaughter. There is certainly a lot of Grade A prime beef over there, though. I haven’t seen this much muscle in one place since I stopped working out at Gold’s. Every single one of them is three times the size of me. I can rule out the two young thugs right away, since one still thinks wearing ripped jeans is sexy and the other one has enough piercings to set off a metal detector from a mile away. The rest are possibilities, though. For some reason even the older man with the Fu Manchu mustache interests me. I’m not usually into older men, but he’s got a body that can easily run with the biggest of the bulls. There’s just something a about mature muscle that screams ‘look at me.’
I also know most of the guys on my side of the room. Some of them are old money and some came into it recently, like me. I happened to have a knack for choosing apps and raked in a billion before the third iPhone was released. I like most of my companions, but a few of them believe their money makes them entitled. They aren’t grateful for their life; they just think they automatically deserve to be treated better than everyone else. That’s just not my style. I’m probably the most humble acting billionaire on earth.
Why does our host for the evening remind me so much of Ryan Seacrest? Could it be because he is Seacrest? It’s amazing what money can buy. I’m still a little shocked I have to pay what equals to more money than most people earn in a year if a match is made tonight. If no match is made I don’t pay a cent. I think that’s what made it so inviting. What the hell, I’ve got nothing to lose.
The Muscleman
I can’t believe I’m so nervous. I also can’t believe I’ve guzzled down three glasses of champagne in less than ten minutes. My body is a little warmer than usual right now. I feel like taking off my shirt, but that wouldn’t be appropriate. I need to calm down. It’s kind of hard, though, when you look across the room and recognize four or five of the richest men on earth. I still can’t believe I’m here and just because I met Ryan at the gym. He looks pretty good tonight and seems to be having a lot of fun floating back and forth across the room. He seems to be spending most of his time with us big guys, though. It’s a shame we can’t mingle before the fun and games begin. I might be able to sort through the pickings a lot faster if I could just overhear their conversations. I’m pretty sure I won’t like the guy wearing the tuxedo – he looks like he’s trying too hard. And the guy with the terrible toupee, well I just can’t see myself with him – let’s leave it at that. The rest of the group is pretty interesting, though, and quite a handsome lot. I like my men tall, since I’m six five, and most of the group is either really close to my height or taller. That begins the night in good place. Height is the only thing we have in common, however, since I’m about a hundred and forty pounds heavier than the biggest one. Still, they all look in pretty good shape.
It’s sad that some of the big guys on my side are less than natural. I’ve seen most of them around – even competed against a bunch of them. The blonde guy has lost to me three times and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me. That’s fine, though. He’s just not able to get his calves and guns as pumped as me. He’s also a little top heavy; he needs to work on his entire legs. And then there’s Pops. I dated him a while back. That was a trip. He’s a great guy, but he has a lot of interesting fetishes. Whatever rich guy chooses him is going to be in for a lot of surprises. But the old man is definitely looking huge tonight. Man, it would be good to make a connection with someone. I haven’t been on a date in so long. It’s a guaranteed hundred thou in my pocket if some guy chooses me and I’ve put his number down on my card too. That would be sweet, since I could get out of debt and begin to really look at buying my own gym somewhere. I know that’s a pretty lame reason to say yes to a night of speed dating, but I’m also open to a relationship if it happened. Of course being paid so much to go on one date with a guy is nothing to turn my nose up at – even if it does feel a little like I’m whoring myself. Those rich dudes are into muscle and I’ve got the perfect package to please them. That’s what I have to keep telling myself, but it’s hard.
I’m really not that great of a catch, anyway. I’m just a guy from a small town in central California whose body responded really well to weights starting in high school. Of course, the drive for growing being fueled by my realization I was gay was helpful, too. I kind of got obsessed so I could prove a point, but the benefits have certainly made it worth it. It’s funny to think that two of the men on the other side of the room are gay, since they are married, conservative, and always talk about family values. I now see why I had to sign more waivers and confidentiality contracts than a roomful of employees at Fort Knox. It might be kind of creepy to go out with one of those men, but I’d don’t think I’ll be putting them down on my card anyway. So, I better start narrowing down the field – even before we chat – since I can only put down one number and it has to match the number of the guy that chooses me.
The Billionaire
“Okay, gentlemen, we are ready to begin. You’ve all been given a number. Please go to the small table in the room with the sign that matches. You’ll have fifteen minutes for conversation and then the bell will sound. Our big men will then move to the next place. Any questions? Good, then we’ll begin.”
Damn, Mr. Sliced Jeans is my first partner. It figures. He does have a nice body, but I don’t fancy being a babysitter - the guy barely looks twenty. Shit, up close, though, his arms are fucking beautiful. It’s only for one night, but what an incredibly expensive one night. Let it go, sir. Be open to the experience. Come on, you said you’d not stereotype people and make this evening about trying new things. He might end up being a great guy. Be open. But just look at those jeans! It’s even quite obvious he cut them himself. Turn off the judger in your head and just get to know him. Oh crap, there’s the bell. Time to begin.
“What’s up, dude?”
“Um, not much and how are you?”
“I’m cool. Just happy to be here – free booze, free food, and the possibility of a little ass, you know what I mean?”
“Well, not exactly, but I’m kind of slow sometimes.”
Okay, I’m already sure that this is not the guy for me. He may be built like a wet dream come true, but I’m pretty sure he’s never read a book in his life. There I go, judging again. I need to push those thoughts out of my head. Come on, you’re a great businessman that’s made a lot of money. Surely you can think of something to talk to this guy about. Use your best communication skills. Ask him some questions. Get him talking about himself.
“So, what makes you like bodybuilding?”
“I dunno, I’ve just been huge all my life. I came out here after graduating high school last year and this evening seemed like an easy way to make a lot of money. I played a lot of sports in school and just seemed to grow a shitload every time I went into the gym. My girlfriend knows the guy that plans these events and she encouraged me to volunteer. The roids I take get me pretty stoked so I usually don’t mind banging anything that moves. A tight ass on a guy is just as good as a tight woman, you know what I mean? When the guy’s face is in the pillow, I can pretend he’s anyone I want him to be. And how about you, number four, what makes you like big men? Is it because I can easily tackle you and fuck your ass even if you say no? We should arm wrestle right now so I can show you how puny you really are. My testosterone is bubbling and I need to plow something soon.”
Dear god, this is going to be the longest fourteen minutes of my life.
The Muscleman
Oh hell, I’m paired with the guy in the tux first. That’s just the way of the world, isn’t it? To top if off, he’s carrying a brandy snifter, too. Of course he is. He is kind of handsome, though, so it might be okay. I need to give everyone a chance. We’ll see if he can think about anything other than himself for more than five minutes. If he can’t then it will be clear immediately that it’s not the right match. I also hope he’s got interests outside of money and muscles. It would be great to talk about neutral things for a while.
“Hi, I’m . . . oh wait, we’re not suppose to use names.”
“How about I just call you big ‘un?”
“Um, okay. And what should I call you?”
“Ritchie Rich might be fun, don’t you think? So, big ‘un, how much you weigh?”
“Well, right now I’m not training for a show so I’m about three twenty.”
“Fuck yeah, a big heavy boy with muscles just popping out everywhere. Just the way I like ‘em. Where do you lift?”
“A place called the Pump Room.”
“Never heard of it. I’m at the City Club. I can choose between the place at the beach and the one downtown. It costs a fortune each month, but I can afford it. I probably make more in a year than you’ve made in your lifetime, big ‘un. You’re just a muscle head that needs a rich dude to help you grow, aren’t you? Well, I’m the guy with enough money to set you up for life. I’m the fifth richest guy in the world. I bet that makes your pecker harder than steel, am I right? All this talk of money turns you on, doesn’t it?”
Must control the urge to punch him in the face. I wish there was a way to move on to the next guy even before the bell rings.
“No . . . no, it doesn’t turn me on.”
“Well that’s not an answer that will get your number on my card, I’m afraid.”
“I would guess not.”
The Billionaire
So my second partner, they guy with the piercings, was as much of a dud as the first. The only sparks that could have possibly ignited between us would have had to be caused by lightning singling him out because he was made up of mostly metal. There was no other way we could have been suited for each other. He kept trying to talk me into getting a spike shoved through the end of my cock – a conversation that made me keep my legs tightly crossed. He said he loved to feel the metal in his anus while he sat on my dick. I also couldn’t get over the fact that I could see huge silver horseshoe plugs plunged through his nipples – that were almost the size of those on real horses. I even brought up some of my favorite writers and he thought I was talking about bodybuilders and acted like he knew all of them. His number was quickly marked off my list. I couldn’t even get into his big muscles because every few inches there was some kind of object stuck into his skin.
Partner number three has potential, though. I can tell his clothes are actually tailor made and he’s probably one of the biggest guys here. He’s got a Masters in some specialized field of physical fitness and is easy to talk to. I’ve already circled his number on the card and it’s still just the first five minutes of our conversation.
“So what are you looking for in a relationship?”
“The same thing every bodybuilder is looking for. I want someone to take care of me – you know, to be my sponsor.”
“Yeah, sure, I understand that, but you also want to do something else with your life, right? You know, with your Masters.”
“Hell no, I just stayed in school because my dad was paying for it and I could work out all the time. I paid some twink that was into muscle to do all my papers and stuff. I don’t give a fuck about any of that. I just want to work out and get so big that I become immobile. Man, just the thought of it makes me hot and start to leak pre-cum. Can’t you just see it - me growing bigger than a house? All my muscles so huge that I can’t even see my feet. And there’s this guy that just keeps feeding me protein, so I can get bigger.”
“Wow . . . that’s a pretty specific . . . um goal, there. What’s in it for the guy that feeds you?”
“Shit, that’s easy. He gets to climb all over me and worship my muscles. He also gets to shoot off his little dick on my body any time he likes. And then, finally, I roll my mountain of muscle on top of him and crush him like a little grape, giving him what he’s wanted all of his life – to be smothered by muscle. Doesn’t that idea thrill you man?”
“Um, well . . . I am taken with that idea in ways that I could not even begin to explain. I wish you the best of luck with your growing.”
I don’t even care that he sees me scratching his number off of my list. I think he’s fine with it, too. I certainly don’t meet his criteria for a partner. I know I’ll be trying to get the image of him being so big he can’t move out of my mind for a while now. I’m pretty sure we are just going to sit here for the remaining time in silence. At least I get the chance stare at his monstrous chest, before it becomes the size of Montana.
The Muscleman
The second guy seemed pretty nice, but then I started noticing little things about him that made me a little nervous. He was talking about what it was like to be the person that designed and built all the satellites used by the government, but the entire time he was constantly cracking his knuckles. The sound was deafening. He also never looked me in the face. He only stared at my arms. He moved his gaze from one bicep to the next. Since his head was lower than mine I also noticed that he had the worse case of dandruff I had ever seen. I couldn’t believe that a billionaire would not have better hygiene and then he started to tell me about how he liked to save his money, but not in a bank like normal people. He didn’t trust banks. He kept his money at his house. He then went on to say that he still lived in the trailer of his parents. At first I thought he was using the story to show how he was still simple and down to earth, but then he explained that he actually still lived with his parents and didn’t plan on leaving. As a matter of fact, they were outside the building waiting for him since he didn’t drive and they wanted to approve the person he planned on bringing home. I felt sorry for the guy, so I tensed my arms a few times. This made him so excited that he started rubbing himself under the table. I quickly stopped, fearful that I would make him have an accident. It was definitely a no on number two.
I was now with billionaire number three and he seemed great. He was about my age, he had inherited his money, and he also ran the family business that was given to him. He was dark haired and very Italian looking. The evening was suddenly looking very good.
“So what’s the business you inherited?”
“Oh you know, an import-export company. But we do a lot more on the side, as well.”
“That’s great. What do you trade?”
“The usual - guns, ammunition, tanks, that sort of thing. We simply look for the highest bidder and then arrange to get them what they need.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Fuck no. And we also help people deal with any problems they may be having with other people. You just say the word and I can take care of someone for you. They’ll disappear without anyone asking questions, I promise. And by the way, if we choose each other let’s get one thing straight. You can never meet my family. They don’t know about my proclivity for muscles. And they aren’t ever going to know about it. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir. Perfectly clear.”
I was suddenly afraid for my life. I hope to god this guy doesn’t remember my face. Oh crap, what if he puts my number down on the sheet. Or worse, what if he already knows my name. He seems like the type of guy that could get any kind of information he would ever need – with little effort. Oh please don’t like me, sir.
“I like you, Mr. Big Muscles. You’ve got fear in your eyes and I like people that fear me. I think we are going to get along just fine. I need someone to dominate me behind close doors, since I’m the one with all the power when we’re out in the real world.”
“I forgot to mention that I’ve just got a few STDs that I need to get rid of before we go out. Nothing to worry about, really, but it will take a few months before I get clearance from my doctor. I just thought I should tell you.”
“Fuck, no way. That, my friend, is a real deal breaker. I can’t be bringing anything home. My wife would kill me.”
I finally exhaled as I watched him mark off my number on his list. He looked up at Seacrest and snapped his fingers. Unbelievably, the bell rang five minutes early that round. The son of a gun definitely has the power he bragged about.
The Billionaire
This next guy, muscleman number four, looks like he just saw a ghost. He’s huge and great looking, but he looks like he’s scared to death. This is just speed dating, for god’s sake. Why should he be so nervous? And to top off his handsome face, the guy looks like he is as strong as an ox. I’m the one that should be intimidated. He keeps staring at the dark haired guy at the table where he just came from – what’s up with that. If he likes that guy, it’s fine, but he should just humor me with his time and then write the other guy’s number on his card. Why does he seem so nervous.
“Sorry to make this my first question, but what do you do for a living?”
“I own a few companies.”
“And what do those companies do?”
“I’m in computers.”
I have no idea why this guy suddenly became relaxed just because I told him I’m in computers, but I certainly like how it calmed him down. He even smiled. He’s got a grate face when it’s not so frightened. And his body is just unbelievable.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that the guy next to you . . . well, he’s . . . um, oh . . . let’s just say I don’t think he’s a very nice guy and leave it at that.”
“Okay. Well . . . um . . . this is a little awkward.”
“I’m sorry. Let’s begin again. I’m . . . wait, no names. Sorry. How about we use the name of our favorite author as our name. I’m Colm.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Why not? It’s just a game. You know, a way to make names for ourselves.”
“No, it’s not possible because I’m Colm. And I suppose we both mean Colm Toibin.”
“Yeah, how did you know? Oh wait, don’t tell me. He’s your favorite author, too?”
“Yes.”
The room just got smaller and we have become the only two people here. That’s how the situation changed within just a few seconds. Wow, muscled and cultured. Is it possible? I don’t want to get my hopes up. Let’s tread lightly. He could be hiding scary things just like all the other guys. Let’s see where he takes this and if he’s willing to do anything at all. However, he is a hell of a lot calmer suddenly and has the most gorgeous smile.
“It’s so good to meet someone that reads. Every other guy so far was too busy with his business or his fortune to pick up a book. Who else do you like?”
“Well I like a lot of the classics . . .”
“Austen?”
“Yes, and others.”
“And what do you like about your job?”
“A lot, I guess, but I really like the fact that it gives me the opportunity to help other people. I’ve started a few foundations with some of my money and it’s fun to be involved in those.”
“That’s so great. And what made a successful guy like you come tonight?”
“I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but I hope you’re going to give me a chance to ask some questions. I’m just teasing you. Let’s see, why did I come tonight. Well, I guess the first and most important reason would be because I really like huge muscled men. I hope that’s not too forward. But there are other reasons, too. I tend to not date a lot, mainly because it’s hard to trust anyone, and I thought this might be a less threatening environment for the other guy. I mean we both know why we are here and what could possibly come from this night. That kind of takes the edge off, right? And now you, why did you come tonight?”
“Well, since you were so honest, I should begin by saying my first reason for coming was the money.”
“I see.”
I didn’t hide my disappointment. Here was another guy just looking for someone to take care of him. It’s not that I thought that a guy like that is bad, it’s just that I was looking more for a partner – someone that would share in the journey, not depend on me for guiding the journey. I started to think this guy was not for me.
“No, it’s not like that. I’m not looking for a sugar daddy. It’s just that I have a few debts to pay off and I’d like to have some money to put down on my first gym. I’d like to open a place of my own. It would be a gym where the average guy could come and not be intimidated.”
“That’s admirable, but I think most of us average guys would be intimidated by you, at first. You’re jus so big. I think that goes away, though, after someone gets to know you. And what are the other reasons?”
“Well . . . again, to be perfectly honest, I’m lonely. It’s a dog eat dog world out there for people that are struggling to make ends meet. You have to put dating way down on your list of priorities because it takes so much money. I’m usually so worn out from training clients all day that when I get home the last thing I want to do is to have to go out and please someone else.”
Again, not the answer I was looking for – this guy was obviously only focused on his own needs. He didn’t need a partner, he needed a roommate – someone that wouldn’t’ be looking for any emotional support, but could still be in his life. I was beginning to become very sad because this guy pushed all of my buttons in other ways. He was huge. I guess he was easily over three hundred pounds and as massive as hell. He was dressed impeccably – tight, black shirt with a well-made blazer bulging over it. He has brown curly hair and dark eyes that seemed to sparkle in some indescribable way. I could tell he was ripped in a contest-ready way, even though I knew there were no competitions happening in the coming months. I tend to follow every show there is within a three state radius. I found myself wishing he were a different kind of guy on the inside.
“I can tell by your face you misinterpreted what I mean. I’m trying to say it’s very hard to date. I kind of get tired to kissing a lot of toads that don’t turn into a prince. I meant it would be great if there was someone at home that might greet me with a martini and ask me how my day had been and I could do the same for him on another night. I’d like to have someone that would get into training with me. Even big guys get tired of working out sometimes and need a little encouragement. I want to have someone to read the Sunday New York Times with and then switch sections silently when we’re done. I’d like to have someone in my life that knows how I like my coffee or that I really don’t care for sushi. That’s all I was saying.”
“That sounds nice.”
What I was hearing was too good to be true. I was searching the big guy’s eyes to see if he was just blowing smoke up my ass, but he seemed genuine. I started to shift my approach to him. I needed to get beneath his muscled surface and allow him to penetrate my mask, as well. I was searching for something to say.
The Muscleman
I watched as partner number four obviously began searching for a way to get to know me better. We had gotten off to a rocky start - caused mainly by the mafia guy I encountered at the earlier table - but the conversation was beginning to flow nicely and the guy had the same favorite author as me. He was also very handsome. He was a few inches taller than me and had a very nice body, which was beautifully covered in a very nice cashmere sweater. He obviously had some Greek heritage, which added to his chiseled features and gorgeous nose. I chose to take control of the situation as he paused and I quickly asked a question.
“And what are you looking for in a guy, Colm number four?”
“Well, it would be nice if he were big, but that?s not the main thing. I’m looking for someone that will challenge me as much as he encourages me. I want a full partner, not someone that needs a father figure. It would be nice if he had the same interests as me – art, travel, good health, and fine wine. Other than that, I’m not too picky.”
His little laugh that came after the last sentence made me smile. I could instantly tell he was being completely honest. I kept staring at his Adam’s apple as he spoke. I have no idea why, but I found his neck incredibly sexy. I suddenly had this deep desire to kiss that part of his body for a really long time. I fell into his eyes, as well. They drew me into him in a way I had never experienced before. I had a strong desire to know him on a much more intimate level.
“And why do you want a big man?”
“Wow, that’s a direct question. I guess for lots of reasons. I love sleeping beside a muscled giant – wrapping my arms around him as we sleep and holding on to his beefy chest. I like to feel his body heave up and down as he breathes. I also like taking a shower with a giant guy, watching the water slide all over his huge muscles, but also taking my time to soap up his naked body, as well. To give him some pleasure is nice. It has also been proven to me over and over again that many bodybuilders have a tight ass – something that thrills me beyond belief. I love a well-muscled butt that can forcibly squeeze the last drop of cum out of my cock. That might be too much information, but you did ask. I really like it when a guy wraps his enormous arms around me as we gaze at a sunset, stand on the beach, or simply to tell me good morning while I’m making coffee in the kitchen. It has also become quite clear to me that I can gain respect when people find out who I am and how much money I have, but a big muscled guy gets that respect almost immediately. He walks into a room and people move out of the way, just because of his size. I’m envious of that, I guess. I hope none of that offends you.”
His answer made my cock throb larger under the table. I prayed hard that the bell didn’t ring because it would be embarrassing for me to stand up at that moment. I knew my package would be obvious to everyone. I was blessed with a cock that matched the size of my body, but there was no reason to show off. Everything this guy said seemed to echo all my thoughts about what it would be like to be in a relationship. I found myself, however, being very cautious. Everything sounded too good to be true. I knew we had only a few seconds left, so I decided to cut to the chase.
“How does a guy get to go on a date with you?”
He paused – long enough to make me regret asking the question. His eyes still sparkled, but I could tell he was moving away from me. I had made some kind of mistake and I didn’t know what it had been. I was suddenly very sad. I knew I liked this guy, but it seemed he didn’t feel the same way.
“First of all, the guy let’s me do the asking. It’s not about power; it’s about my need to feel in control of the situation. I stand before someone as huge as you and I immediately feel so inadequate. Allowing me to be the one who does the initial pursuing helps me to feel equal. I also think the guy I take out has to know how much he really deserves from other people. I don’t want someone just looking for money, I want him to desire much more. There’s a lot of fish out there in the sea and I’m looking for someone that really stands out from the rest. I want a guy that is willing to give up everything for me.”
I knew I had lost partner number four by the end of this part of our conversation. I had missed the target in some way and disappointed this particular billionaire. It was the first time tonight that I felt disappointment. I desperately wanted to add fifteen more minutes to the time we had together, but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. The bell rang and my heart sank. I looked at the guy across the table and he smiled at me. It seemed like a pity smile.
“Don’t give up, big Colm. Your time will come very soon.”
I rose from the table, too sad to respond. He was now just trying to be kind. I glanced back at him as I moved to the next table and was completely discouraged when I saw that his attention was focused completely on the next muscleman.
The Billionaire
I moved on to partner number five quickly, knowing that I only had two more to chat with. My fourth guy had been pretty amazing, but I quickly realized that his need for money in order to buy a gym was his number one reason for being there. Any billionaire he chose was merely a bank and the evening was a quick trip to the ATM to get a down payment. I was disappointed, yes, mainly because he had been perfect in so many other ways. I tried to encourage him at the end and told him not tot give up. I had a feeling that things were going to change for him very soon, but I could tell he was saddened by my words. His face kind of tugged at my heart, mainly because I could tell he had felt something for me, too. I turned to partner number five, the mustached older man.
“Well hello, there, pretty little thing.”
“Good evening, sir.”
“Damn, aren’t you fancy – ‘good evening, sir’ – I’m a big man from Texas and we love a boy with manners.”
“Well, my mother raised me right, sir.”
“You know, son, every time you say sir, my cock pumps up a little bit harder. It’s a pretty nice feeling.”
“The same thing happens to me when you say son.”
I was definitely not looking for a muscle daddy, but something about this man really turned me on. I knew I was still slightly buzzing from beautiful partner number four, but the older man in front of me got my juices flowing something awful. I intended to follow this feeling completely and see where it would lead.
“And what brings a muscle daddy like you to an evening like this?”
“Ooooh, boy, I like the way you say muscle daddy. You’re already making this big man proud. I’m here for the same reason you are. I’m looking for a man. Well, maybe a boy, but a man will do.”
“Yeah? And what exactly are you looking to do with that boy, sir?”
“Damn, son, no one this evening has been as respectful as you. I might just have to throw you over my shoulder right now and take you home. Ain’t no one going to stop me either – if I decide to do it.”
“Well let’s not cause a ruckus, sir. Let’s just get to know each other a little more. What do you want a boy for?”
“That’s easy, son. I’m going to take you home and we’re going to strip down to our underwear. Then we are going to wrestle – all night long. Don’t worry, son, your muscle daddy is going to go light on you and even let you think you’re winning sometimes. But I’m also going to show you what all these muscles can do. I’m going to toss you around so much that it will make you shoot about four loads of your sweet man-juice into your briefs while we tangle. I’m going to make those perfectly white skivvies turn yellow from all your cum.”
I had never been into older men, but this moment was so sexually charged that I knew I could blast off like a cannon if I simply touched my cock. I knew the entire evening had been building to this moment, but the man across from me was saying things that somehow turned me on in a new and refreshing way. My eyes encouraged the older man to continue.
“And when you are totally spent and your body is worn out I’m going to take you into my arms, cradling you like the baby you are, and take you into the bedroom. I’m then going to change your cum soaked underwear like it’s a baby’s diaper, putting fresh briefs on you after I lick you clean. I might even feel like you need a little reprimanding – for something losing our little wrestling match – and I’ll take my large cock and spank your little behind. I’ll whack my thick rod across your baby ass so hard you’ll be begging me to stop. Or maybe I’ll use my big daddy hand just so you’ll feel my total dominance and remember every time you sit down for a few days to come. And I’m sure I’ll feel that you have a slight fever or look a little sickly, so I’ll need to sick your ass with the big old meat thermometer between my legs – just to make sure you’re okay. I might have to stick you so many times that my sweet cum-medicine gets injected into your hole, making you all better.”
The mustached muscled daddy in front of me had suddenly begun speaking in some kind of baby voice. It was a little disconcerting. I couldn’t believe I was still turned on – even though what he was describing turned me off so much. I guess I was still somehow ‘on fire’ from all that had happened earlier in the evening. Without any kind of warning I suddenly began to laugh at what the daddy before me was describing. I couldn’t help it. I was completely baffled why he would think that was the kind of relationship I was looking for. It was clear that my laughter did not please partner number five.
“Daddy does not feel the respect any more, boy.”
“No, I’m sure he doesn’t. And does daddy always refer to himself in this way? As if he were a third person in our conversation?”
“Daddy is not pleased with your tone, son.”
“I’m sorry . . . oops, there’s the bell. Well, it’s been very interesting getting to know you sir. I am completely baffled as to why I am still so fucking hard.”
“That’s you showing your daddy some respect, son.”
“I’m sure it is.”
I fought against the intense laughter that wanted to escape my mouth. I watched the big daddy stomp away in disgust and I reveled in the joy of my extreme hard-on, not sure why it still persisted.
The Muscleman
I could tell you nothing about partner number five. I was still transfixed on number four – and wishing I could go back and redo our conversation. I heard him talking to Pops and they seemed to have made a connection. I even heard the cute Greek-looking man laughing. I tried desperately to focus on billionaire number five, but he was the guy with the terrible toupee and I couldn’t peel my eyes from his head. It was obvious, immediately, that he knew what I as staring at – and that made him furious. While I answered all the inane questions from Mr. Toupee I tried desperately to figure out where I had gone wrong with my previous partner. His obvious enjoyment of Pops made it very hard, he didn’t seem the type of guy that was looking for a muscle daddy.
The bell rang and it was finally time to go to partner number six – our final pairing. My last billionaire pleasantly surprised me. He was charming, handsome, and very rich. I began to relax again and slowly forgot about number four. Some of the questions asked caught me off guard.
“So, what’s it feel like to be so big?”
“Um, I guess great. I’ve never thought about it. I just like being strong and huge. It seems to turn people on.”
“I’ll say. I’m a fanatic when it comes to muscle. Big men have made me hot ever since I saw Charles Atlas ads in the back of comic books. After that it was sword and sandal films, The Incredible Hulk, and so many other super hero films. I guess I have a secret desire to be saved by someone – in some kind of heroic way.”
“That’s cool.”
“So, do you like to dress up in costumes?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You know, do you ever dress up as Hercules or Superman? As a way to make a guy happy?”
“I’ve never been asked to do it, no.”
“But would you?”
“Well, I guess I would, if the right person asked me”
“No, no, no, you have to want to become the super hero. You can’t do it just because someone asks. You need to feel like you are The Incredible Hulk – so you act totally like him. And you can’t just pretend to be Superman; you must believe it so it is true. Otherwise, bullets won’t bounce off your chest.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Well if you are Superman then you can’t be harmed by bullets.”
“Okay . . . and how do we know if that is true or not?”
“I shoot you, of course.”
I was instantly done with the evening. I had been scared shitless by a mafia guy, rejected by a man I thought was a potential lover, and now told I would need to become Superman in order to be worthy of dating. I suddenly needed a stiff drink and my own bed. I felt like running over to Seacrest’s bell and ringing it myself. I glanced over at partner number four and saw that he and his last mate had both moved away from the table – in different directions. The gorgeous man was over at the bar on his side of the room and the bodybuilder was on the other side. My heart was gladdened by the fact they seemed to have not clicked in any way. I continued to smile at my present partner and, hopefully, appeared as if I were listening to him. Thank god the bell finally rang and we were all able to go back to our side of the room and get much needed drinks.
We stood around for about fifteen minutes as the ballots were cast and counted. I placed the number four on my piece of paper. I knew it was futile to hope he did the same, but I needed to show myself that the evening had not been a total waste. I went with the guy I wanted, even if he didn’t want me.
The Billionaire
Partner number six was the worst of all. He had started our conversation with the request that I feel his hard cock underneath the table. He told me he had taken three Viagra pills before the evening began and he was sure I would like what I felt. I did not take him up on his offer and our conversation had ended immediately. I had already made up my mind on what number I was going to put down on my sheet. We had all signed agreements to put one number down at the end of the evening and I was clear on whom I desired. I was also clear on who desired me.
I had a dry martini as I waited for the results to be tabulated. Ryan stood in the middle of the room as he called out the numbers of the billionaires and then read off whether they had been partnered or not. Billionaires one, two, and three were all matched perfectly. I was the first to hear Ryan say, “I’m sorry but there was not a positive match.” I quickly looked at Pops, the muscle daddy, and saw that he was looking at someone else – some guy that dealt with satellites, I believe. The number I had written down had chosen someone else. I was not disappointed, mainly because I had not really wanted to go on a date with a guy that would have changed my underwear like a diaper. I listened to the remaining numbers being called out, but I really didn’t pay attention. I had one desire and that was to leave the building quickly. I had an important appointment.
The Muscleman
I was devastated when I heard that billionaire number four did not get partnered. I had written his number down in hopes he had decided I was the best match. I got the uncanny feeling that no one had put my number down and that depressed me deeply. I drank a couple shots quickly and then slipped out of the room when no one was looking. I took the elevator down to the lobby and exited the building. I was fighting back tears as I walked toward the subway station. It was hard to accept the fact I had not been chosen by anyone – but it was especially hard because I had liked number four so much.
I reached in my back pocket to grab my wallet, to get my subway pass, right before I started down the steps to the station. Tears began to slide down my cheeks at the same time. My self-pity party was interrupted by a voice that sounded familiar.
“You were really my number one choice.”
I turned to look in the direction of the sound. There was a black limousine on the side of the road a few feet away and the back window was down. I wasn’t sure the voice had come from the car, but I still was compelled to walk in its direction. Something seemed so familiar.
“I just didn’t want to pay the money. I’d rather give all of it directly to you.”
My cock and my heart jumped in the same intense rhythm. I wasn’t sure if what I was hearing was true but I liked the sound of it. I moved closer to the car. Suddenly, the face of partner number four appeared in the window.
“I think you should be able to own the gym out right and not just put a down payment on the place. What do you think?”
“I think the gym is insignificant right now, I’d much rather have you than a stupid building.”
“And I think you should have both. How do you feel about that?”
“I feel that I deserve both, but I look forward to thanking you for the building for the rest of my life. How do you feel about that?”
“My name is James Mortensen.”
“My name is Paris Roberts.”
“I know, I’ve already Googled you. Care to come to my place tonight?”
“There’s no where else I’d rather be.”
END