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Old August 26th, 2008, 06:40 PM
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An American Muscleman In London - Part 17

[For those still following this story, thanks for being patient. It is still my personal favorite that I've done. It will be a long one, though, just to warn you. Enjoy!]

By the time I neared my flat at the end of my morning run, and my morning sexual encounter with the man on the bike, I was feeling very guilty about how I had treated him. I had a distant memory of my desire to conquer the man – to beat him in our little race, but I also began to feel like something had taken over my entire being. It was totally out of character. I struggled to figure out what had made me want to dominate him. I also wanted to understand why I wanted to get off so badly that I would step into the bushes with the guy. It wasn’t that I was opposed to something like a one-night-stand, those had happened a lot when I first came out, but what I had desired from this exchange was so different and was also beginning to scare me a little. It was something primeval, something I could not easily control. I stopped about a block from my place and sat down on a bench. I wanted to spend a few minutes focused on my memories of the situation before it left my mind forever.

My desire to show the guy that I could outrun his bicycle came from some unknown place deep inside me. No, it was more than that. I had known I could outrun the bike before we even began. I knew I was going to win before the race started. And the blowjob was simply a just reward for my victory. Even as these thoughts passed through my head it seemed like I was contemplating another person. I wasn’t very competitive. Hell, I wasn’t very athletic. But there had been something inside of me that wanted to show off, wanted to make the guy see how powerful I was. This last thought made me look around – I guess to see if anyone was noticing the beast that somehow was taking over my body. For that is what it felt like when I allowed myself to re-live the experience from this morning. I felt like I was stepping into some type of dark void that mysteriously fed a side of me that had never been nourished before. And to top it off, the feeling was incredible. My cock was hard again, just as it had been after I had outrun the bicycle. It was as if I was perched on some unseen fence and knew I could easily fall in one direction that would cause me to search out the next good looking man that passed and force him to succumb to my power or I could just as easily fall in the direction that simply chalked the earlier experience as a need arising from Roger’s unplanned trip. Something forced me to shake off my need for immediate pleasure and I accepted that this morning had happened because I was so horny after the incredible no-release foreplay with Roger. It seemed like a logical and an acceptable explanation.

The hardness of my cock finally subsided so I stood up and began walking the short distance to my flat. My entire body still felt like an unprotected nerve, ready to react to any outside stimulus, but I set my sights on home and did not let my mind wander. Suddenly, a vision of Manfred entered my thoughts. This pissed me off. I didn’t want to focus on someone who had hurt me – I wanted to focus on Roger. I wanted to allow my memory of Roger’s hard body and his incredible kisses to flow through my entire being, but Manfred’s face kept shoving any thought of Roger out of my head. It was as if the two men were some how battling for my attention. I decided to shut everything out of my consciousness and focus on the city around me. I chalked Manfred’s prominence in my thoughts to the fact that I was going to his house that night. My cock suddenly sprang to life again. Damn, I thought, I‘m still not over that beautiful man – no matter how hot I found Roger. The thought of not going to Manfred’s party crossed my mind, but deep down I knew I wanted to go more than anything in the world. I let the joy that this thought gave to my body fuel the rest of my steps home. At that moment there was a feeling of peace surrounding me that had not existed all morning. I chose to not analyze that fact, because I was tired of second-guessing everything.

During a lazy afternoon nap I entered into another vivid dream. Again, everything seemed so real to me. My dream focused on a god-like being that had a face half in light and half in darkness. This being was obviously somehow torn between good and evil. In the dream I found myself inexplicably drawn to the part of the being’s face that was in darkness. I felt a need to behold what was hidden – and to embrace it. The part of the face that was in light seemed weak in some way – or less powerful than the side of the face that was hidden. Even during the dream I sensed that this scenario somehow connected to my earlier dreams. In my sleep I could tell that all of the scenes I encountered while dreaming were related on some powerful level. As had happened that afternoon while walking, my dream was overpowered by a vision Manfred. The half of the face that was in the light seemed somehow similar to his – but there was also a presence of someone else. I could not distinguish who the mysterious person was, and any attempt to uncover the part of the face blocked by darkness ended in confusion and a feeling of helplessness. I awoke rested, but uneasy. It reminded me of times when jerking off did not quench my desire for release – but only intensified the need for more satisfaction. I was somehow lost in an abyss that existed between the face of light and the face of darkness. I wanted to fall back asleep and see if I could return to the dream, but my body wouldn’t let me. I finally got out of bed and decided to head towards Halfway to Heaven for a pint or two. I thought some beer might help dissipate the uneasiness left over by the strange dream. I also wanted to ease the nervousness that was growing inside of me because of Manfred’s party. I worried that I might not be able to have a casual friendship with Manfred. I forced these thoughts out of my head and jumped in the shower to get ready for the evening.

Why is there no rhyme or reason to when a gay bar is busy or not. It was just a late Monday afternoon and Halfway to Heaven was packed. I know I had not been in London long enough to know the rhythm of this bar’s crowd, but I could tell that other people were shocked at how full it was because of the look on their face when they came through the front door. How could the quaint neighborhood pub I had fallen in love with seemingly turn into such a hot spot over night? I was worried that I would have to find a new place to hang out. After making my way through the crowd to the bar and ordering my much-desired Stella Artois, I miraculously found an empty stool by the front window. It was actually a stool I had sat on numerous times. I thought, jokingly, that people were going to start associating the stool as my throne or my perch. I would have to make sure I sat somewhere else the next time I came in. The trouble was, though, that this stool was at the center of everything in the pub. You could survey the entire front room, the entranceway, and look out the big windows at the same time. It really was my favorite place to sit.

Turning to survey the crowd brought me out of my inner monologue about my favorite stool. I had not noticed many other people before that moment, but my first thought, after glancing around, was that there must be a convention for male models in town. The stud-factor of the room was unbelievable. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible not to notice that each face seemed to be just as handsome as the other. I saw some of the “regulars” that I now knew because I had been there so often, but they even looked more handsome, as well. I wondered if the beer had gone to my head quickly because I hadn’t eaten much that day. It really didn’t matter if it was the beer or not, I liked the view. Another glance around the room revealed another odd thing. There seemed to be two distinct types of men in the pub that day. I can’t believe that I was so blatantly stereotyping the men around me, but there was clearly a division to be made. The first thing that made me notice the difference was leather jackets and suit coats. I couldn’t believe it, but there was, what I would call, a group of gentlemen and a group of rough guys. It was kind of freaky that this distinction was so obvious and the thought of it made me chuckle on the inside. There were groups of businessmen here and there talking together and then there were guys with three-day beards, t-shirts, and leather jackets standing in similar clusters.

Two different feelings went through my body as I studied the room. The first feeling was a certain kind of comfortableness. Somehow I felt united, in some bizarre way, with the two groups assembled and it didn’t seem odd in any way. And, secondly, I stood out from the crowd in a big way. I was dressed in khakis and a newly tight polo shirt. I somehow fit right in between the two groups, which might explain why no one seemed to acknowledge my presence. It was very peculiar that no one was talking to me and I could never seem to catch anyone’s eye. This usually would have bothered me a great deal and I probably would have left the pub, but there was that deep feeling of comfortableness that existed and that empowered me to stay. In my head I tried to figure out what made me so relaxed in this situation, because I wanted to be able to draw on the source on other days, as well. But the only answer that passed through my head was that this is how it should be. I somehow lived beyond the division of the two groups and felt accepted by both. No, it was more than that. I instinctively knew that I could choose either group. Yes, that was it. I could easily get off my stool and go to any small crowd gathered in the room and be included. Okay, the beer was definitely giving me delusions of grandeur. My last thought seemed so incredibly cocky – that any group in the room would be honored to have me join them. Who did I think I was? But the more I sat with that feeling, the more I understood it to be true. It did have something to do with sensing that the groups of men would be happy to accept my company, but it, more importantly, was supported by an awareness of my own worth. I felt as if I could choose to . . . to what . . . to bestow my favor on someone. As crazy as it sounded, this thought resonated deep inside me. I was at peace with my self-importance and simply sat back to savor my newfound knowledge. It was at that moment I detected that many people in the room were, indeed, stealing quick glances at me. My self-esteem soared even higher than it already was, because I felt many men hoping for me to stand up and come to talk to them. But I was waiting for something, no, someone else, even though I didn’t know whom it might be. I knew, instinctively, that no one in the room could meet my expectations.

And that was all my mind could take. I had crossed some line that proved my insanity. I was immediately self-conscious and needed to leave the room. The fantasy I had been living as I drank my beer was over. I could not believe that I allowed my mind to take me to such a cocky place. I looked at no one as I stood up from the stool and walked toward the door. I didn’t know where I was going, because Manfred’s party didn’t start for another hour, but I knew I couldn’t stay at the pub. The cool air that hit me once I stepped outside and instantly cleared my head. I was, once again, my semi-insecure self and that brought me a strange sense of joy. As I walked by the pub’s window I glanced in. I could swear the entire crowd was watching me walk away. I decided to get some food in me right away so I would be sober for Manfred’s party. I was shocked that one beer had made me so loopy.

I stepped into a little market called Tesco around the corner and bought a pre-packaged sandwich and a bag of chips. No, not chips, they were called crisps here in London. I needed to start calling things by their correct names. I walked over to Trafalgar Square and sat by the fountain to eat my food. It was a nice evening and many people were out walking. The fresh air started to affect me in a strange way, I guess, for I started to get a hard-on. There was no other explanation for my sudden arousal. That is also the moment that my cell phone rang. I looked down, but didn’t recognize the number. I thought about not answering it, especially because of the hardness at my crotch, but decided to see who it was.

“Hello.” I had been quiet so long that my own voice sounded strange to me.

“What are you wearing?” asked a familiar voice. My heart jumped a little, but I was calm enough to match the sexy question with an equally shameful response.

“I’m sitting in Trafalgar Square totally nude with a raging hard-on.” I replied and was surprised by my boldness, not to mention my almost truthfulness.

“Were you thinking of me to attain this rigid state?” asked the voice and it was then I noticed the familiar delay that comes with overseas calls.

“No, I was thinking about some guy I met at Halfway to Heaven,” I said teasingly. I wanted to make the man suffer, a little. I don’t think it worked, though.

“Well, be careful. I know about half the men that come into Halfway and I could easily get a full report of any actions that might be unfitting for a gentleman.” And with that comment Roger broke into a soft, but familiar, laugh. “Good evening, Anthony.”

I was not ready to give up on the teasing and replied, “Who is this, anyway?”

“Oh no one important,” Roger said, immediately regaining his playfulness. “Just someone that can make all of your deepest desires come true.” That last comment caused my cock to finish its journey to complete stiffness. It actually hurt and I had to stand up and readjust.
“I’m not so sure about that, sir. I have some really intense fantasies,” was my reply and my mind wandered back to my recent feelings of power at the pub. “It might take a lot of men to satisfy all of my desires.”

“Unless there was one man who was super-human and knew exactly what you liked,” shot back across the airwaves. Roger certainly could choose the right things to say. His comment caused me to desperately want him back in London. I would even have gotten naked in Trafalgar Square for him at that moment. This is the kind of control he had over me. I wanted the telephone foreplay to last forever.

“And tell me, Mr. Roger, what makes you super-human?” I asked trying not to sound like I was intentionally leading us to phone sex.

“Oh, you know. The usual. I am as strong as a hundred men, I bend steel like it is licorice, and I can last continually in bed for over seventy-two hours. But I am sure that none of that would impress someone as magnificent as you, Anthony.” His words caused me to catch my breath. It was like he knew my deepest desires. I knew if I didn’t change the subject fast I would have to go home and change my pants before going to Manfred’s party.

“When are you coming home?” I asked. It wasn’t really a question someone could ask this soon in a relationship, but I, presently, was not in a place to filter my thoughts.

“My dear man, I just left yesterday,” Roger said laughing. This gave me a little time to regain composure and realize how stupid the question was. He continued, “I know my departure was not convenient to our budding relationship, but, look at it this way, it will definitely prolong the foreplay and I know how you like the foreplay, Anthony.”

“Yes, Roger, but I like foreplay that involves our bodies touching each other!” I cried into the phone, a little too loudly. I glanced around to see if anyone was staring, but no one was.

Roger laughed again and then said, “I understand, but I also believe we were headed toward cutting the foreplay short, if I remember correctly.” He was right, of course. His comment calmed me down abruptly.

In a feeble attempt to defend where we had been headed before he left, I asked, “Would that have been such a bad thing, Roger?”

“Of course not, Anthony,” he answered. “And we are certainly destined to come together in a way that makes our foreplay look like child’s play. I guarantee it. We simply must be patient. The powers-that-be have definite plans for us, Anthony, definite plans.”

“I know, I know, Roger. You’re right. I guess I’m just feeling a little lonely,” I said truthfully. I think my honesty caught him off guard, because he paused for a few seconds. Either that or he was doing work as we chatted.

He finally spoke, “Anthony, maybe you need to go out. Maybe you need to be with people.”

“I am going out. I’m on my way to a party at Manfred’s home. I’m not really looking forward to it, though.” Again I was sharing openly with this man I barely knew. I believe it was because he was so far away. There was a longer pause and I started to think we had lost our connection. “Are you still there?” I finally asked.

“Yes, Anthony. I am still here. I had not meant to infer that you should spend time with Manfred,” Roger replied and I could tell his mood had changed. I marveled at the thought that Roger was jealous of Manfred. I thought I had made it very clear the other night how much I wanted the man now talking to me on the phone. Still, here was part of me that liked making Roger a little nervous. I decided to take him back to an earlier part of our conversation.

“Well, maybe someone’s not as super-human as he thought. It looks like I have found a chink in his armor.” I said returning to my teasing attitude. My statement caused Roger to pause again. This time I got nervous that I had gone too far.

“It is quite obvious that you have feelings for Manfred, Anthony. I hope my absence does not increase your fondness for him.” Roger said with all seriousness.

“Roger, come on. You know I am not Manfred’s type. We acknowledged that when we had drinks at your club the other day. I don’t fit the bill when it comes to being a bodybuilder and that is what Manfred likes.” I said laughing at my own words.

“For now, you do not,” Roger said softly. I was not sure I heard him correctly.

“What was that, Mr. super-human?” I quickly asked wanting to return to our playfulness of earlier.

“Nothing, my dear, Anthony, nothing.” Roger said, seemingly perking up again. “I just do not like competition when it comes to something I desire so desperately.” The smooth talker had returned, as well as my boner.

“Do you desire it desperately enough to catch the next plane to Heathrow?” I asked coyly.

“Yes, I do, but that will not be happening for a while, I do believe. I have run into a lot of legal struggles with my latest acquisition here and I must remain in the States for a while. Your country certainly likes a lot of red tape, does it not?” He asked and I could hear the strain his work was causing.

“Yes they do, Roger, yes they do. I think you should use that incredible charm of yours to seal the deal. I can’t think of anyone who might be able to resist that,” I said to encourage him.

“Thank you, Anthony,” came the reply and I could tell he was smiling. “That is very kind. I do believe you would be amazed at how un-charming I can be when it comes to business, though. I choose to save my sexual attraction for chasing men that turn me on. Like you turn me on, Mr. Lance.”

I could sense the conversation could return to dialogue that would get me near a point of ejaculation quickly, but I saw that it was almost time for Manfred’s dinner to begin. I pushed away my desire to move back towards phone sex. Roger could sense the decision I made – even from so many miles away.

I began to end our conversation by saying, “I’m afraid I need to start heading towards Manfred’s place. Thank you for calling, Roger. It means a lot to me. I hope you will do it often. I also promise that you have nothing to worry about with Manfred. That ship has sailed.”

“Your superman is happy to hear that, Anthony. And do not worry; I will continue to call frequently. I do not want you to forget me,” Roger answered. I immediately thought the man was crazy. How could I possibly forget someone so sexy and beautiful?

I quickly shot back, “That could never happen, Mr. Wexford. There won’t be a day that goes by that isn’t filled with a longing for your return. I promise. Have a great day and figure out a way to close the deal over there. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye.”

“Au revoir, Anthony,” he answered and then hung up. I sat there for a few seconds letting the sound of his voice and the feeling the call had created in me permeate every part of my body. I was smitten and in a big way. I ached to make love to that sexy man. I would certainly hold off having any kind of sex until his return. Suddenly, my little tryst in the bushes that morning popped into my head. I rationalized that encounter by blaming Roger. He had created the need in me by turning me on so much and then leaving. I would start my new commitment to him right now. From this point on I was saving myself for Roger’s first night back. And it would have to be his first night back or I would explode from sexual overdrive. That is how bad I wanted the man. I stood up and began walking in the direction of Manfred’s home, knowing that the conversation with Roger was going to make me late.

**********

It wasn’t hard to find the street where Manfred lived because I had scoped out this area of the city before. This part of London did not have a lot of full sized homes and the ones that did exist overlooked St. James’ Park. It was quite obvious by the front of Manfred’s house that it had been here for many years. I was pretty sure it had been in his family for a long time. The outside was not as impressive as Roger’s place, but I could tell, by looking in the floor-to-ceiling bay windows at the front of the house that it was furnished impeccably with, what were surely, family heirlooms. Manfred did not answer the door. The butler, who introduced himself as Charles, welcomed me and ushered me through the large foyer and long hallway saying everyone was in the kitchen at the back. It struck me as strange that Manfred and his guests were in the kitchen, but I simply followed Charles. I stole glances into other rooms as we walked down the hallway and was impressed with the incredible furniture and other décor of each room. Manfred, or possibly someone in his family, had great taste. I was not prepared for the incredible modernized kitchen of Manfred’s home. There was too much to take in at one time. It was not just a kitchen; it also included a huge family room area with a large fireplace, full bar, sofas, desk area, and more. There was a huge island that separated the great room from the kitchen area that had multiple cooking tops; lots of counter space, and areas for eating that included beautiful wrought-iron stools. I also saw a long table, just beyond a wall containing two unbelievable large ovens, which served as an informal place to eat. All of this was very impressive, but nothing compared to the giant open space between the kitchen and the fantastic balcony that looked out over the park. I could tell that there were large glass doors with wood frames that slid into wall pockets to make the kitchen area and large porch one huge space. I believe my entire flat would have fit into this area of his house. I also bet that the majority of Manfred’s time was spent right here. He probably could have closed up all the other rooms, except his bedroom and bathroom, and lived very comfortably. There was a long tale on the porch set for dinner and it looked magical.

I didn’t see Manfred at first, but I did notice that his so-called informal get-together was not that small. I counted at least ten people over in the bar and sofa area of the kitchen and some others out on the balcony. I suddenly became very self-conscious and that’s when Charles called out in a loud voice, “Mr. Anthony Lance.” I couldn’t believe it. I was being announced! It was like some movie I had seen growing up where people coming to the King’s ball were introduced loudly as they came down the ballroom steps. All eyes turned to look at me and that made me want to immediately turn and leave. I froze and did not know what to do. That’s when Manfred seemed to come out of nowhere and pressed his hand against my back leading me into the room as he welcomed me.

“Anthony!” Manfred said warmly. “I am so glad you are finally here. I was worried that we would have to hold dinner for you. Welcome to my home. What would you like to drink?” We had stopped between the large kitchen island and the back of the large sofa and chairs facing the enormous fireplace. I turned to face Manfred, but was not prepared for how seeing him again would affect me. I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out. Manfred’s masculine beauty caught me off guard, as it had when I first met him. I must have looked like a complete idiot. Manfred quickly noticed my predicament and said, “A vodka tonic, you say. What a wonderful choice that is.” He then turned toward the bar and called out, “Paulo, look who’s here. Of course you remember Anthony, right? He will have a vodka tonic, if you please.” I looked in the same direction as Manfred and saw the muscular Paulo behind the bar. He was smiling in our direction and nodding his head.

“Welcome, Anthony. How could I forget such a handsome man? I will personally deliver your vodka tonic to you on the patio, my American friend. And I will drag you away from that evil Manfred, and keep you to myself this evening,” Paulo said beginning to mix my drink. I heard Manfred laugh beside me and then felt the pressure of his hand leading me out onto the balcony. Most of my earlier nervousness disappeared when I saw the view of the park from Manfred’s home. It was like a fantasy come true. It was still pretty light outside, but lamps were on all along the paths in the park and that made it look incredible. You could actually see most of the park from Manfred’s balcony.

“That view is unbelievable, Manfred,” I said following him around the table set for dinner to the railing on the other side of the patio.

“He speaks,” Manfred said teasingly as he turned to look at me. My face flushed red as I realized he was acknowledging how tongue-tied I had become when I saw him. It struck me that Manfred must be used to causing that reaction in people, because he did not let the conversation dwell on it any longer. “Yes, it is a wonderful view. I never take it for granted. That’s why I re-did the kitchen, so I could enjoy the park as much as I could.”

“You have a beautiful home.” I said bracing myself mentally and then turning to look at him. This time I was prepared for how his face would move me. I was not, however, prepared for the sudden stiffness in my pants. “Thank you so much for inviting me. Although, I thought you said it was going to be informal and small.”

Manfred smiled at me, causing the stiffness below my waist to increase, and said, “This is small, Anthony. You will have to come to my Christmas Party. There are three hundred people here. Having twenty close friends over is nothing compared to that evening.”

I didn’t have time to react to Manfred because a large hand came from above my head and lowered a drink in front of my face. Manfred’s gaze turned upward and I knew he was looking at the tall Paulo behind me.

“I hope you like your drinks strong, Anthony. I made it the Italian way,” Paulo said as I took the glass from his large hand and he stepped to the side so the three of us made a triangle – conducive for talking.

“What is the Italian way?” I asked Paulo innocently. I did not register that he was pulling my leg.

“That means it is strong enough to get a man to do anything once he has finished it,” Paulo said loudly and then broke into laughter. “I know many straight men who have, how do you say, changed gay – no, turned gay after one of my drinks.” This made him laugh harder. This time Manfred and I joined him. I took a sip and immediately knew what he meant. I think he might have just waved the tonic bottle over the glass. That one sip did, however, calm my tensed body quickly.

“Anthony, I am going to leave you in the frighteningly huge, but capable hands of Paulo,” Manfred said placing one hand on the big guy’s shoulder and one on mine. “I must go put the final touches on our dinner.”

“Manfred,” Paulo quickly said, “When are you going to hire a chef to do your cooking?”

“Now, Paulo, we have been through this,” Manfred answered and I could tell it was a conversation the two had engaged in before, “I love to cook and I am pretty good at it…”

Paulo interrupted, “We will be the judge of that.” He looked at me and winked.

“That is fine. The bottom line is I like to cook and it soothes me. Now, please excuse me as I must go and open the wine.” Manfred looked directly at me before he walked away, as if he was trying to figure something out. There was a slightly confused look, no, it was a surprised look on his face. I could not figure out what it meant. And then he was gone. Paulo moved into his place, turning to lean against the railing, which caused his tall body to lower a little and helped our faces to be somewhat even. Paulo stared at me, his gaze going down my torso, before speaking. The awkward silence caused me to take another big sip of my drink.

“You are bigger Anthony, no?” Paulo said looking at me in a way that made me nervous and excited at the same time.

“I don’t think so, Paulo. I haven’t made much time to work out the last couple of days.” I looked down at the ground because I didn’t like to talk about myself in this way.

“No, you are bigger Anthony. I can tell. It is my job to notice such things.” He said, turning to place his drink on the railing and then standing to face me. He laid his big hands on my delts and squeezed hard. His grip didn’t hurt, but it did feel strong and manly. “You fill out your shirt differently than before. You have the perfect body for building up muscles. I am very jealous, my friend.”

I don’t know what caused my head to spin. Was it the fact that this big muscular guy was jealous of me, was it his sexy accent, was it the two sips of his famously strong drink, or was it the feel of his powerful hands on my body? I was lost in some kind of momentary stupor. As Paulo’s hands continued to check out different parts of my upper body – my arms, my chest, and my shoulders – I started to feel something familiar beginning to well up in my body. It wasn’t lust, because that was already happening since he began to touch me, but something more. I tried to remember other recent moments when I had felt the same way and it suddenly hit me. This morning when I had been challenged by the guy on the bicycle and the other night when I had made out with Roger. Yes, that was it. I was having a similar reaction right now. At this point I no longer looked at the sensation that was overcoming my body from the outside. I simply let the spell I was under take over my body. I tensed my muscles wherever Paulo grabbed me. He noticed my change in attitude and strengthened his groping. I looked down at his crotch and noticed his pants becoming tight because of his swelling member. This sight made my body rage with some unknown power. Paulo started breathing harder and I could tell the confidence that seemed to now shoot out of my body was really turning him on. I brought my hands up to his broad chest, made fists, and then punched him right on his erect nipples. I hit him pretty hard. The impact made him step back a little, but he continued to hold onto my shoulders. I could tell he loved the feeling of his pecs being punched.

Charles, the butler, calling out “Dinner is served”, interrupted our muscle groping session. I was, somehow, able to snap back to reality as soon as I heard Charles’ voice. I glanced around to make sure no one was watching us and then stepped back from Paulo. He moaned slightly as I broke away and tried to grab my body. There was something inside of me that took over and I merely turned and walked away from him. I didn’t look back, because there was no need. I instinctively knew he was watching me walk away and trying hard to prevent himself from ejaculating. It was a feeling of power and control that was becoming familiar to me. I felt great because I sensed that I had conquered the big man in some small way.

When I got to the table the trance-like fog in my head gradually cleared. I had a memory of the feelings that overcame my body when I was with Paulo, but it seemed like it had been someone else. I felt sort of lost and confused. Manfred appeared beside me, again, out of the blue and ushered me toward a chair.

“Here, Anthony, please sit beside me. Where is Paulo? I have a place across from you for him.” Manfred said all of this as he lit candles on the table. I glanced to the edge of the balcony and could see that Paulo had his back to us and was adjusting the hard-on I had caused. When he turned toward us I could see the outline of an enormous cock. I guess it was true what they said about a man with large hands. He stared at me as he came to the table. He did not attempt to hide his stiff tool. Somewhere, deep inside of me, I was aware of how passionately he wanted me, but I could also sense that he wanted to do something else. I wasn’t sure what it was and then it hit me. The look on his face was a mixture of challenge and submission. I could tell that I had won the first part of some unknown battle between us and knew there would be a second round later. Paulo could not let me leave without engaging in our little contact sport again. When he got to the table almost every set of eyes was focused on his tenting pants, but Paulo just stood there proud and erect. He continued to stare at me as he sat down. I glanced at Manfred and saw that he had noticed none of this because he was still lighting candles. He finished and then came to sit down at the head of the table with Paulo on his left and me on his right. I knew dinner was going to be quite interesting.

***********

Manfred said a few words of welcome and then invited everyone to begin. The table was decorated impeccably and the food was incredible. As bowls and platters were being passed around for people to serve themselves, I suddenly felt a foot against my leg. I glanced at Manfred first – ever the optimist – but immediately noticed the size of the foot making its way up my leg and turned from Manfred to the waiting stare of Paulo. He had a wicked smile across his face and I was caught off guard when I realized his long leg was reaching all the way up to my crotch. His toes rubbed against my cock and it started to stir. Manfred was talking to someone to the left of Paulo and was oblivious to all that was going on underneath the table. I tried hard to not let on that a large foot was stroking my cock under the table. I also tried hard to not catch Paulo’s eye and acknowledge how great his toes were making me feel – as if the stiffness of my dick hid anything. Paulo showed no mercy. He was quite capable of seeming to be involved in conversations and completely engaged in everything around him while he masterfully worked my crotch. There is no way I could return the favor because my leg would not reach him. As I began to near a point where I would not have been able to stop my building orgasm I pushed my chair slightly away from the table. Paulo’s foot could not reach my crotch anymore. I glanced at his face and could tell he was disappointed, but we both knew I was too close to release for him to continue. He pulled his foot back and acted like he was sulking. I turned to talk to Manfred to get my mind off of our “under the table” connection.

“Manfred, I thought Martin was coming,” I said finally getting the chance to ask about our friend.

“Oh, Anthony. I guess you did not hear,” Manfred said with a very serious look on his face. “I should have told you right away. Martin is very ill. John called and said that it looked pretty bad. I plan on going over to see him tomorrow.” The look on Manfred’s face showed his great concern for his friend.

This news stunned me and my hard-on disappeared quickly. I could not believe Martin was so sick. I quickly rattled off a lot of questions, “Manfred, how sick is he? Is it serious? Has he been to the doctor? What did John mean by it looks pretty bad?”

“I do not know much more than what I told you, Anthony. I am very sorry. Would you like to come with me tomorrow?” Manfred asked with that same serious look.

“Yes, please.” I said without hesitation. “Thank you, Manfred. Thank you very much. I am so fond of Martin. You’ve got me worried now.”

Manfred smiled, “Now, Anthony, tonight is an evening for fun. Martin would want you to enjoy the party. We will go over tomorrow and we’ll both see how great he is – and it will be a pleasant surprise. For now, let us enjoy the evening as much as we can.” Manfred leaned into me and had a devilish look on his face. “Tell me, has anyone here caught your eye?

I glanced around the table as I returned Manfred’s smile. I then said, “Oh, I don’t know Manfred. There are so many cute guys to choose from.”

“But none to match the beauty of you, Anthony,” chimed in Paulo, who had been listening intently to our conversation.

This comment made Manfred glance quickly in the big guy’s direction. I detected a look of confusion mixed with immediate jealousy. Seeing Manfred react this way made something deep inside of me shift a little. I felt a surge of power at the thought of making Manfred jealous. It wasn’t even about making him notice me or focus more on me. No, it was more about now knowing a weakness in him. I was drawn to that slight chink in his armor. I could feel that an unexplored part of me wanted to make sure Manfred knew I could see his exposed weakness. I desired to use this knowledge to somehow dominate him or win some battle – but I could not, for the life of me, tell you what battle. I simply had a desire to win. And it took over, just as it had when I was racing the guy on the bicycle that morning. I turned to face Paulo.

“And no one here can match the size of you Paulo,” I echoed back. Manfred looked back at me and I saw a flicker of something indescribable in his eyes. For a second I thought it was desire, but I knew better. Manfred simply did not want me to flirt with Paulo, which only encouraged me more. “I’m sure there is no other man here that is as big as you.” I smiled and Paulo’s face lit up. He glanced around the table and then turned back to me. He spoke to me as if Manfred didn’t even exist.

“No one even comes close, my American friend,” he said in a voice dripping with sex.

All three of us knew what was happening. And we each knew the next few moments would change our friendships forever, but there was no turning back. I wanted Paulo. I didn’t want him as a lover or boyfriend. I wanted him so Manfred would lose. I wanted to claim the prize and end up proving my power over both men at the same time. I was completely out of control. Something beast-like was causing my heart to pound, my cock to ache from stiffness, and my entire body to come alive with a desire to make both men surrender to my superiority.

“But remember, Paulo, even things as big as you can be overpowered. You may be huge, but that just means there will be a louder crash when you come toppling down,” I replied with challenge in my voice.

Paulo laughed slightly and then said, “And tell me, Anthony, are you the man to overpower Paulo?”

“I am. And it will be easy,” I said softly, but firmly. I did not blink. I stared directly at Paulo and I could sense lust, mixed with something else, emanating from his body. It took me a few seconds to realize what was mixed in with his desire for me, but when I figured it out it made me smile. Paulo wanted me desperately, but he also feared me. I suddenly relaxed as if some struggle had ended. It was as if I knew I already controlled the huge man and there was no need to continue to be aggressive. He was already mine to do as I please. Goliath was about to fall before David.

Manfred interrupted my celebratory moment when he suddenly stood and loudly said, “Gentleman, shall we move to the library for drinks.”

I heard some distress in Manfred’s words that were not noticed by anyone else. He glanced at me and tried to smile graciously, but I could see he was hurt. I also detected that he was not admitting defeat. “Anthony, come walk with me. I have some aged scotch that you will love.”

He held out his arm and I rose. I locked arms with him and we walked away from the table, neither of us even acknowledging Paulo. I had a feeling that the big guy would need a few seconds to allow his cock to calm down. Paulo was not used to having someone impact him the way I did. He was so turned on by my aggressiveness that I knew he was, again, close to orgasm.

As the party continued in Manfred’s spacious library, I slowly became aware that Paulo was not in the room. It was not because I looked around and didn’t see his face; it was more of a feeling in my gut. It was as if I had a sixth sense that, when focused, could tell me things my other senses could not. This same feeling told me that Paulo was waiting for me somewhere in the house. I could feel his heart beating fast as he waited for me to come. Again, I became aware that his quickened heartbeat was because of his lust for me, but also it was caused by something akin to fear. Paulo wanted me to come and search for him, but he was also frightened by what might happen when I did finally find him. My own body began to pulse with anticipation and power as I thought about Paulo’s nervousness. I knew immediately that I could find the giant man easily – his quickened heartbeat pounded in my head and I knew it would grow stronger as I got closer to him. It was like some childhood game where someone told me I was getting hotter as I stepped closer to where the prize was hidden. Paulo’s body was calling out to me, as if it were begging to be found so it could be dominated. There was no way I could ignore the desire that had taken over my entire body. I moved toward the doorway to the library and slid out unnoticed. I let my “sixth sense” lead me. I moved across the large entranceway and down a small hall on the other side. My cock had become hard and was like a divining rod leading me to waiting pleasure. I could feel Paulo’s pulse begin to quicken as I walked down the hallway. Somehow, he was aware that I was coming. I held up my hand to each doorway I neared and could instantly determine if it blocked me from my desired prey.

I finally came to a room at the back of the house. When I placed my hand on the door the pounding of Paulo’s pulse in my ears became so loud it was almost unbearable. A smile crept across my face as I felt the heat of Paulo’s waiting body passing through the wooden door to my palm. It was quite clear to me that the big man knew I was standing in the hallway, just a few steps away from him. The trance-like feeling that had overcome me earlier on the balcony returned and some animalistic force took over all of my actions. I remained aware of what I was doing, but I could not control my desires or any of my movements. I reached down and turned the doorknob, allowing the thick piece of wood to swing open slowly.

My mind instantly registered every thing about the room and the big man standing in its center. I was immediately aware that there were four floor-to-ceiling windows in the room and one other door that went to a bathroom. It was obviously a guest bedroom that was used as some kind of study. There was a large leather sofa, two big chairs and a desk in the room. I paused in awe for a brief moment because I realized that I could have drawn a floor plan of this room after only five seconds. My ability to take in everything around me was heightened beyond belief. This same ability told me that Paulo’s big fat dick was rock hard and oozing copious drops of cum just because I had entered the room. The giant lion had somehow been reduced to a frightened kitten. I knew he would not move until I somehow gave him permission. I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me. I could sense that Paulo’s heart was beating so fast that, for a second, I worried he might have a heart attack. I looked straight into his pleading eyes.

“Come,” was the only word I said.

Paulo immediately stepped in front of me. I tilted my head upward to look at the big man and he quickly brought his lips down to mine. Paulo’s kiss was so forceful and full of desire that it momentarily brought me out of my semi-trance. There were just a few quick seconds where I was blown away by the fact that this huge stud-like man wanted me – little Anthony. This consciousness of what was happening disappeared quickly and I returned to only desire, a need to make this big man succumb to my power. Paulo was kissing me like I somehow held the key to life inside me and he wanted to suck it out of throat. The guy was like some sex-starved beast that was ready to offer his body for the taking. Our torsos came together and I could feel his two-by-four sized cock pressing into my stomach. Paulo had his hands on my ass pulling my body into his. I reached around and grabbed his hands with mine. I lifted them to our sides and I heard the big guy moan in displeasure. He was obviously disappointed that I ended his ass worshipping session. I maneuvered my palms against his and guided Paulo to interlock fingers with me. He was so into our kiss that he followed my lead completely.

Immediately, Paulo squeezed his fingers together around mine. Again, just for a second, I left the moment and was able to observe what was going on as if I stood across the room watching. I knew Paulo was putting a lot of strength into his hands as he clamped down on mine, but I felt nothing. As Paulo moved his lips to my neck I looked to the side and saw veins popping up on his forearm, showing how much pressure he was giving, but it felt only like a small child attempting to apply resistance to me. As soon as I registered the fact that Paulo’s huge crushing hands felt like nothing against mine, a strange all-consuming electricity shot through my body. I was still slightly aware of who I was and that there was this large man in front of me, but a stronger desire took over and I was unable to control it. It felt similar to the feeling I had experienced earlier as I raced the guy on the bicycle, but it was even stronger now. I was ready to make sure Paulo knew who was master and who was slave. I could feel my heart turn cold and I was filled only with a desire to overcome the enemy – and right now that was Paulo.

I tensed my hands slightly and Paulo pulled his lips from mine and I could tell by the look on his face that my grasp had caused him a little pain. He smiled at me with gritting teeth.

“Such strength for a little man,” Paulo said jokingly and increased his grip.

I knew the smile that appeared on my face was full of some kind of darkness. I saw a sliver of doubt, or was it fear, in Paulo’s eyes. At this point I had no control over my body. It was being fueled by an energy that I never knew existed within me. I gave myself totally to this force and seemed to be on a high from the feeling it created. I only wanted more of the power that seemed to be growing in my body. A somewhat evil-sounding chuckle escaped my mouth.

“You have no idea,” is all I said and then I squeezed my fingers tighter.

Paulo cried out loudly and his knees buckled a little. His entire upper torso bent backwards and he faced the ceiling. The sound of his pain-filled voice only made me chuckle again. I tightened my hands even more, aware that I was not using my full strength. Paulo brought his face back toward mine and, although it was obvious that he was in pain, I could sense that he was getting off on being dominated by me. Somehow, I was aware that his cock was even harder than it had been before. Paulo wanted me to control him completely. Realizing this fact caused me to cross some imaginary line of self-awareness. I registered that I moved to a place where my body and mind acted on its own. There was enough of the old Anthony still intact for me to understand that I had moved to a dark place within me, as if I had been sucked into a black hole, but I was unable to stop myself from going there. I had been taken over by an almost all-consuming desire. The smile on my face grew wider. Paulo stared at me with a look full of lust, fear, pain, and awe. I squeezed my hands even tighter and the big man fell to his knees, crying out again, but never taking his eyes off of me.

“You are mine, Paulo,” I said softly, but the voice seemed to come from someone else. “I could crush your hands with no effort at all and you know it. That seems to make little Paulo very excited, doesn’t it? I’m going to make you shoot your load just by dominating you. From this moment on you’ll only think of me and my strength.” I put more pressure on his hands and he stopped breathing. His palms were level with his head and bent backwards. I knew, instinctively, that I could snap them in two if I wanted to. Paulo knew this as well. “It’s time I get my prize for dominating you, little Paulo. It’s time for you to reward me with your offering of man juice. Shoot for your master, slave, shoot!”

I squeezed his hands tighter and suddenly he opened his mouth wide, but no sound came out. His entire body began to shake uncontrollably at the same time. I held on to his hands because I knew his body would have fallen to the ground if I didn’t. Paulo continued to spray cum into his underwear for what seemed like ten minutes. His face turned bright red from the strain his body was going through and veins popped up all over his pretty forehead and neck. After what seemed like eternity, he drew in a huge breath and I released his hands. Paulo’s body fell to the ground and he immediately stuck all of his fingers into his mouth. He was trying to suck them hard enough to make the pain go away. He still had his eyes closed and I knew he would be on the floor in a fetal position for a while. I looked at his groin area and was flattered immediately. His pants were wet from his crotch to below his right knee. I knew his fingers wouldn’t be the only things sore for a few days.

“That’s a good slave. Make sure you rest before our next meeting,” were the only words I spoke as I turned to leave the room. I left the door open so others might walk by and get a glance at my work. I returned to the library and sought out Manfred. It was time for me to leave the party. I was determined to find other men that needed dominating and the night was still young. Manfred turned to me as I walked towards him. I could tell by the look in his face that he registered something different about me, but could not name what it was.

“Have you seen, Paulo?” he asked with an accusing tone.

“No, Manfred, I haven’t.” I responded coolly. “Maybe something came up.”

“Yes. Maybe something did, but it is not like Paulo to leave without saying goodbye.” Manfred said looking at me closely.

“Well, you know Manfred, sometimes we get so caught up in something else, that we forget our manners,” I answered, not moving my eyes from Manfred’s. I knew I was being cruel, but I didn’t care. This beautiful man in front of me had broken my heart and I wanted him to pay.

“That is true, Anthony, that is true. I just hope he is all right,” Manfred said with a face full of real concern.

“Something tells me he is better than all right, Manfred. I wouldn’t worry if I were you. But I came to say thank you and good night. It was a lovely party.” I spoke with the same distant voice that I had used when dominating Paulo.

“Are you leaving so soon, Anthony?” asked Manfred.

“I’m afraid so, there are many more conquests for me out there in the city,” I said laughing.

“What an odd choice of words,” Manfred said staring directly at me with eyes full of suspicion.

“I’m only kidding, Manfred. I really just want to get home and turn in for the night. I hope to get a lot more sightseeing in before I start my job and tomorrow is a full day,” I said quickly, covering up my mistake.

“Do not forget about our visit to Martin, Anthony. Shall we meet at his place around eleven?” Manfred asked and as soon as he spoke Martin’s name something inside of me snapped open. A tension in my body melted away. I was suddenly fully aware of my body and my surroundings. I felt slightly confused by this transition and realized that whatever had controlled my physical self earlier was instantly gone.

“Yes. That would be… I mean eleven is… What I meant to say Manfred is that eleven will be fine.” I stumbled around for words as I desperately tried to sort through all that had happened in the last thirty minutes. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I turned quickly to leave. Manfred reached out and grabbed my arm as I started to walk away.

“Anthony, are you all right?” Manfred asked sincerely. As soon as his hand touched my arm a feeling of something similar to intense calmness flowed through my veins. The feeling scared me a little and I pulled my arm away from Manfred. I saw a look of confusion in his eyes.

“Yes, Manfred. I’m fine. I guess I had too much to drink. I think the walk home will be just the thing to clear my head. I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for a great evening.” And with that I turned around and left. As soon as I was outside I could feel my body attaining some sort of equilibrium that had been missing for the last few hours. I took a few deep breaths and let the night air fill my lungs. It seemed as if I were forcing something from my body with each inhale and exhale. I started walking away from Manfred’s home. I had a vague memory of wanting to go back to the pub and find some man to…to…to what? To conquer, that’s what I had felt, but now all I wanted to do was go home. I suddenly wanted my bed desperately and knew that a good night’s sleep would help clear my head. My mind drifted to Paulo and the experience of bringing him to his knees. There was a flicker of something in my crotch area, as if a flame were attempting to ignite, but my need for rest took over. I also felt like my clothes were constricting me in some way – I wanted to get out of my shirt and pants as soon as possible. I walked to my flat in a daze and, once inside my place, I stumbled to the bedroom, discarding tight clothes as I went, and fell fast asleep as soon as I my head hit the pillow.
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Old August 26th, 2008, 07:30 PM
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These parts are always a treat. Wish I could write like you.
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Old August 26th, 2008, 08:14 PM
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Yeah! AAMMIL continues!

This story has built so gradually it is easy to be impatient, but this chapter makes it clear that it will all be worth the wait. Thanks Londonboy!
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Old August 26th, 2008, 10:39 PM
Thicker is Best
 
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Thanks for staying with this story!

Just a quick note to say thanks for the kind words about AAMIL and for sticking with the story. I'll try to add to it a lot sooner. Thanks, again!
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Old August 27th, 2008, 02:24 AM
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Some of the best things in life are worth waiting for. I like the way this part ends. He still hasn't fallen, only been shown the depths he could fall.
But what seductive depths.
KW.

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Old August 28th, 2008, 04:25 PM
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Earlier today I decided that, upon seeing you having posted a chapter with the number 17, this story must be worth reading. First of all, you wrote it, and you getting to a number 17 must mean that it is a very inspired story.

Well, look at what you've done to my day! I came home from work in the early afternoon, read the first 8 chapters, went to the cinema, and read the final 9 after dinner.

I really need to get some sleep now, but you really had me captivated. I really feel like I'm there. Such vivid imagery -- I almost feel like I've been to London, a place I should have visited by now as it really isn't that far -- and such an interesting juggling act based around sensuality, sexuality, adventure, and mediaeval stories, and only borderline science fiction. All that with a patient build-up and great attention to setting, background, detail and passion.

What else could I ask for? To please continue, even if it takes yet another year and a half. You have taken me on a journey now; you couldn't just leave me be, this far from home?
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Old August 28th, 2008, 04:57 PM
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I Will Continue - For Sure

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I cannot begin to tell you how your message inspired me. Thank you for that kind of feedback. Thanks to all who take time to give feedback. I, for one, sometimes need it to stay committed to a story. I'm very sorry the story took up so much time in your day and kept you up late. I hope it helped you to sleep well. Thanks again and I will continue to work on this story.
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You are always so thoughtful to respond and share. Thanks a lot. Here's to much more AAMIL in the NEAR future.
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