The Big Gun Show

{Fady’s interpretation of events}

“No fucking way” I elbow my buddy Patrick standing next to me, nodding in the direction of the guy standing in line to order a drink.

“That is the muscle daddy I was telling you about this morning from the gym.”

Patrick rolls his eyes back with fake disgust, and bids me farewell. He knows my weakness and he also knows that he is flying solo the rest of the evening. Bidding my buddy adieu, I settle in on my man. Oh, fuck yea, before the night is over this mountain of muscle will be all mine. He orders a beer and wonders around to the outside patio.  I follow right behind. And the view from back here is as stunning as the sight from the front.

   Round solid shoulders frame his wide back. I can see the muscles move and flex under the T-shirt straining to contain them all.  From the wing like lats, his waist tapers down to a perfect small waist.  Hmm, I wonder how that T-shirt fits so perfectly. Large enough to fit the shoulders and chest yet still skin tight on that narrow waist. Snap out of it Fady, bringing myself back to subject at hand, this is not a fashion show.  From that narrow waist, glutes and thighs explode and force the denim covering them to work double time to keep from bursting. But those arms. Damn. I lick my lips just looking at the shape of them from this angle.

I can honestly say that I have never been jealous of cotton before, but damn. This cotton was rubbing all over the muscles I wanted to rub. Even relaxed they look rock hard. Veins running the length from shoulders to fingers. The cuff of the sleeve is so tight it is almost buried beneath a layer of muscle which only makes the muscles stand out even more. Like a frame. With each step, his arms move. And even a slightest movement the fibers of his muscles twitch. I am dying here.

I stand over to one side, to see where he finds a spot. And stare. Never taking my eyes off him, I want to get a bead on his mood. See if he is meeting buddies out tonight. Or a date? Fuck, I never thought about that. He could be meeting his lover. No. No. No. I semi shake my head wiping that horrendous thought out of my brain and getting back to happy thoughts. Don’t fuck this up like you did earlier, I remind myself. I wait a bit longer and watch him as his eyes scanned the room, checking the place out. He eyed  passed my direction, and there  is no mistaking the fact that I am raping his body with my eyes. He moves past me, then his eyes return. I nod. He darts his eyes away quickly. But he noticed. Leaning back against the wall, he looks fidgety. One leg propped up with his foot placed on the wall, his hands are busy with the beer bottle wrapper. Sort of a nervous movement. He looks amazing, but he also looks like he feels out of place.  He catches me staring again. I make no effort to disguise it. He drops his eyes again, only to raise them back up with the slightest hint of a grin.

Yahtzee. Time to make a move. I can see he notices me move his way. He is still looking down but I can see the smile forming on his face. A slight smile. More like an embarrassed grin. He is so fucking cute like that.

“Great arm day at the gym today huh”? I mention as I slide up beside him.

“Huh? – Uh yea” he replies confused.

I run my hand up over his bicep, just a touch. He jerks slightly before relaxing so I leave it there.

“I noticed you at the gym earlier.” I rub the peak of his gun. He doesn’t remove my hand or move his arm. Bolder I squeeze. Not hard but just enough for emphasis.

“And I could not help but noticing you blasting these huge arms.” I look from his biceps up into his blue eyes. He smiles. And says yes. He did have one hell of a work out for arms. And gives the muscle under my hand a nice flex. Nothing obvious. No overt arms up bicep flex, but under my hand it was obviously flexing for me to feel. He takes a nervous swig from his beer using his other arm, and my eyes get a full sight of that bicep curling as his hand brings the bottle to his lips. The hand on his right bicep squeezes harder.

Bringing the bottle back to the table. He looks down. Looks at me, looks around.  Afraid I was making him nervous I asked him if the touch bothered him. Even while asking, my palm was openly cupping his peak. And his peak was still flexed up into my hand.

 

“No. Ah.” He stammers, not looking at me but not looking away. “I kind of like it.” He concedes with a smile in my direction. And an even more obvious flex.

“Uh - I saw you too.”  He looks back down, before meeting my eyes. “At the gym I mean. You were working out legs today.”

Now it was my turn to turn a tad red. DILF had indeed seen me at the gym too. And remembered. This is going perfectly.

“My name is Fady.” I reach my right hand out to officially say hello and introduce myself.

“Hello Fady.” He returns my same formal greeting, mockingly but with a smile. “My name is Jack. And it is nice to meet you.”  He chuckles, almost giggles in a cute way.

We both relax a bit and enjoy the way the conversation is going. I had removed my hand from his arm when we said hello. I was not sure how to place it back there with out being a total perv, but I didn’t have to wait long. He moved around in a new position so his arm was grazing my hand as I rested it on the railing behind him. Almost placing his muscle under my hand, it was a very obvious invitation to grab on again and I dam near shot my load. Right then.

“Hmmmm” I wrap my fingers around the peak again. “This feels so fucking hot.” And squeeze and rub all over his biceps. And he flexes. Keeps flexing.  I can see his head tilt just a slight backwards and a look of lust wash through his eyes.

I lean in close to his ears, “I think Daddy likes his muscles being touched.”   He doesn’t answer with words, but the instant reaction of his bicep bounding in my hands and his hoarse groan escaping his lips is all I need. I lean in forward and place my lips on his. He opens his mouth slightly and welcomes my tongue into his mouth. The taste of his beer mixing with his and my saliva was delicious. His hands remained to his side, and now my hands were both firmly planted, one on each arm.  

I trace each cut and separation. Braille reading every inch of his body. Our kiss breaks for an ‘oh fuck’ here. And a ‘fuck yes’, there. But my hands never stop feeling and caressing.

I tug at the bottom hem of his T-shirt. He kisses me deeper. I slide it up his torso while looking into his eyes. He looks like he is begging. Pleading with desperation so I kiss him deeper all while inching his shirt up higher and higher.

He kisses so soft, so passionately so deeply for such a huge strong man. He can’t get enough and neither can I.   I get his shirt almost to his pecs, I glance up at him and with out asking he raises his arms and lets me slip his t-shirt off, over his head. Right here in the bar with what I am sure every one is now looking. His lips go right back to mine, now with both his hands on the side of my face. His body pressed against mine. Both of our chests heaving. My hands exploring every inch of exposed skin they can reach.

“That was fucking hot.” He chuckles when we take a break. Taking his T-shirt he tucks it into the rear of his pants. “Whew” he shakes his head and shoulders like the chills ran through him.

“Fady. Young man. You are very good.” He leans in for another kiss. This one did not last as long as the first, but it was equally as passionate. 

“Can I get you another beer”? he holds up his empty bottle.

“Allow me muscle daddy.”  I take his empty from his hand. “My treat.”  I leave him against the rail as I float over to the bar and grab us a couple of beers. When I get back, I just assumed he would have his shirt back on, but he said, no. That I had taken it off so he left it off. I asked if he enjoyed showing off like that in public and he gives me a deep, concentrated look before answering.

“Yes.” He spoke. “And no.”  he went on to explain that he is very shy. Very reserved and is not the one to like the center of attention. I had to chuckle and inform him, that with his build and the way he dresses to display all of that muscle, shy would not be the word I would use to describe him.   He agreed. He did enjoy having such a hot body. He enjoyed dressing to display it at appropriate times and places like this. But being socially awkward, as he referred to himself, he never knew how to initiate the first move.

“Plus.”  He spoke softer and lowered his head just a tad. “I really like it when you made the first move.” His face brightens. Waiting for my response.

I studied him. I looked into his deep blue eyes. I studied his bare torso twitching and flexing in the breeze. His pert nipple almost bouncing when I looked at them. Back up into his eyes. That same pleading look. Lust burning in there but not knowing how to escape. His breaths short and quick with me not replying but instead looking him over, until I couldn’t stand it any longer. 

I raise both his hands over his head lean into him forcing his back against the wall, lacing my fingers around both wrist’s, I lift his chin up looking into his eyes and I kiss him so deep I can hear the whimpers escape his throat.  I release his wrists as my hands go back to exploring his muscles, yet his hands remain raised above his head just where I had placed them.

Son of a bitch, I quickly check myself. Don’t blow it. Betting it all on this next move. I went in.

“Flex for me” I whisper while we kiss. Filling his mouth with my spit I look over, and holy crap shit batman, this fucker is flexing both guns as hard as he can, in a room full of strangers, while I suck his tonsils out. Right now. Every fantasy and fetish have come to life. For me. Right here.

I leave the kiss to run my tongue from his left nipple through his smooth hairless pit up to the peak of his right bicep. A breath of ecstasy escapes his mouth when my lips make contact with his muscles. I can feel each flexing fiber as my tongue traces over it. He is flexing so hard he is quivering. But doesn’t stop.

“Thank you.”  Barely escaping his lips.  I slip back just a bit, giving a puzzled look. 

“Thank you.” He repeats. “I don’t meet many guys like you.”  He begins to lower his arms but before he moves them, glances my way. I nod. And it fucking hits me like a bolt of lightning.

“You’re welcome.”  I look deep into his blue eyes. “You are welcome. Muscle Boi.” I say with extra emphasis on the boy.

Goose bumps erupted, covering his skin. His muscled actually shivered sliding back and forth all over his body. I could literally see the transformation right in front of me. I was mesmerized by his sheer beauty and thrilled me that it was mine.

“Let’s go home, my muscle boi.”  A

 

{Jacks perspective}

“Holy shit.”  I grit out between rushed breaths as I lift these fucking dumbbells again. And again. And again.

My arm session had been over for damn near half an hour. But I can’t seem to get this hot little studs’ attention. So, one more set. I keep blasting my biceps. They are as gym pumped and hard as I have ever gotten. The pump is real and it feels amazing. I know it must look amazing too. If only he would look.

Finally I get to that point where they  are numb  My muscles are physically at failure. Heading across to get my bag from the locker room, it is time to go. Damn, passing by him one last time.  So, fucking handsome.  Massaging my triceps as I walk by, I get a glimpse of a huge bulge. Now that, I had not noticed before. How I kept from walking into the wall, I have no clue. Yep I had it bad for this young man.

You see. Young, is the problem. I am 61 years old.  Yea, I am buff. My body is built as good or better than most half my age. Muscles stacked on smooth tanned muscle. But still, men his age hardly ever go for men my age, regardless of the body.

And this sexy man. The one I was trying to use my 18-inch biceps to lure in, was maybe mid 30’s. His dark brown eyes made me melt. Olive colored skin. Maybe Mediterranean? Or middle east? I can’t really tell. And it doesn’t matter either. On him it works. And so does his hot body. Lean, tight, fit.  Very fit and in shape. Totally opposite of mine.

“Opposites Attract.” I don’t find that old saying all that accurate with me. I only seem to attract clones. You know, guys that are built and look just like me.  Don’t get me wrong. I love muscles. I think muscles are fucking hot. I love building them. I like other guys who have muscles. But I want to be ‘the muscle’. Enough muscle to satisfy both of us.

    Stretching awake from a much-needed nap. I feel fantastic. A silly smile crosses my face – maybe he is going out tonight. Yep, ‘sexy guy’ is still on my mind. Always the eternal optimist. And a romantic. I get my naked ass up and into the shower.

Walking to my favorite bar in town. I enjoy the beautiful evening, balmy but not really too hot. Just hot enough to remind you that we are damn near tropical. Drynk, is a real cocktail bar. And if I am going out, we all normally start here. I had an extra bounce in my step tonight. It seems like tonight had a fun crowd.  Then, my extra bounce damn near caused me to stumble to the floor.

No Way! I think to myself. This cant really be him. ‘try not to look’ try not to stare’ fuck, just try not to trip and fall down’

I release the breath I had been holding, and walk up to the bar. Deflated now. I order my beer. He is with his lover. Look how cute they are together. Lucky for them. I try to tell my inner self. I don’t think I could have fooled any one with that line. Oh well I head on back to the patio with beer in hand.

Did he just follow in behind me? No way. Remember to thank the cleaner’s lady, because I know this fucking shirt fits like a glove. (I have my T-shirts altered. Best $10 I spend on every t-shirt.) Spray painted on tight, and with this pair of jeans. I have to look hot from back there.

Pushing it all to the back of my mind. I refuse to have a bum night out, just because ‘Cute sexy guy’ has a partner. I lean on back against the rear rail and wall. Scoping out the crowd. Yep. That’s him.  I caught his eye while scanning the room.

I fiddle with my bottle and label. Nervously trying not to attract his attention. Looking up again, where is his other half?  A cheeky smile fades from my face as I feel him approaching me.

 

Damn his eyes are even sexier up close.  What?  He said something?

“Uh – Uh. Yea.”  I stammer. His eyes are looking through me, and his hand is touching my arm.  I am about to literally loose it right here. My cock begins to harden in my jeans.

His hand is still feeling of my arm. He is still talking. Oh fuck – try and pay attention.  Yes. My arm work was extra hard today. I flexed a little bit to see if that was really what he was feeling.

Indeed, it was. I felt his hand tighten and grasp the peak of my biceps. So I flexed it even more. If he only knew.  He is strumming me just like a guitar right now. And I love it.

Jolted back to reality.  Oh hey.  Nice to meet you Fady.  I am Jake. Exchanging pleasantries and shaking hands to introduce ourselves. His hand left my body. I felt naked with out it there. I enjoyed the warmth of his palm as it layed across the peak of my biceps.  Sliding around just a touch, maybe I can brush my biceps against his hand.

Yep. That worked. I let out a nice breath and let the feeling sink into me. He was intentionally feeling off my biceps and I was loving every bit of it.  And the kissing. I fucking love a guy who can kiss me good. Deep hard sloppy spit filled kisses. And Fady delivered.  And his hands.  His hands did not stop exploring my body. Yes!   My wildest wet dream coming to life.

I love to be touched. It turns me on that guys want to touch me just because I have very hot muscles. Nope. I don’t care if it is like being used. Fuck yea. Use me like a piece of meat. Why do you think I, or most of us, work out like we do? Damn sure not for our health. And Fady knows it.

He gets my shirt off. I am about to explode hands free in my jeans. I am standing here in my favorite local bar. With no shirt on, flexing while this perfectly hot young man devours me. And I love it. Don’t stop. I may have said out loud.

Pinned against the wall, arms over head he keeps attacking, kissing, licking rubbing. Kissing. Fady is aggressive and turning me on even more. Our passion is obvious to all around us. And I am in heaven. We break. Talk a bit more.

And then my world stopped.

Maybe it didn’t stop. I think my world just began.  

“Yes sir.” I kiss him deep. “I will gladly take you home.”

He called me Muscle boi. “his muscle boi”