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Old May 3rd, 2012, 05:13 PM
Thicker is Best
 
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Trading Up

[Looking for romance with some muscle? Read on. Looking for muscle growth? You might want to look elsewhere. Sorry.]

Moving on after the end of a long-term relationship can be very hard, especially when you were with the guy for more than ten years. Ben left me on a Monday and was living with his new partner by Tuesday afternoon. Stupidly, I asked if he had been seeing the other guy while we were together – a question that made Ben laugh out loud, almost sounding as if he pitied me. It really was true when people said the husband was always the last person to know. I had been about as clueless as a guy could get. Only six weeks had passed since the break up and it was still gnawing at me during almost every waking hour. Thank goodness I had a job to go to every day. It was something to help keep me going, something that required my attention and my abilities to continue moving forward – even though I was basically living in a complete fog.

I owned and operated a large export/import business that dealt with only high-end stuff. I inherited the business from my father. It wasn’t the kind of business I would have chosen for myself, but it was a solid company and the recession had not affected me like it had everyone else. I managed about forty employees that actually liked working at the place, what more could a guy ask for. It was one Friday afternoon, when I was starting to get depressed about going home and spending a weekend alone, that my life changed forever.

I had chosen to spend most of the day down in the warehouse – partly because I wanted to avoid some mundane paperwork over in the office - but mostly because I loved hanging out with the guys working on what we called ‘the dock.’ They were all a little rough around the edges, but had the kind of infectious back slapping camaraderie that I found so comforting in my still-fragile state. It was freezing in the dock area because of the rain that had pounded the city for five days straight. We were all wearing ridiculous looking ponchos and other rain gear, trying to stay dry. There wasn’t much to do because of the weather and, because I had joined them, everyone was trying to find things to do to stay busy until quitting time. I was chatting with my foreman, David, and we were contemplating letting everyone go home three hours early. The place was dotted with guys covered from head to toe in neon orange and yellow. All the loading dock doors were open and the wind was howling loudly.

“Hey, how’s the new kid working out, David?”

“You mean Marky? Hell, he’s the hardest worker we’ve got, boss. He’ll have my job in a few years. By the way, he’s no fucking kid. I found out he’s twenty-eight. You’ll have to chat with him sometime, he’s a good guy.”

“Twenty-eight? You’re kidding. From the look of that face, I thought he was about nineteen – but it’s also the first time I’ve seen him. I’m glad he’s fitting in, but we’ll have no more talk you not being here. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t in charge. That was one of the last things my dad said before he passed away – I was supposed to always make Dave happy so he’d stay with the company forever.”

“Don’t worry your corporate little-boy head about that, boss. I’m not going anywhere, but know that Marky’s got great potential. I also think he’ll be around for a while.”

“Duly noted. And I’m not a corporate boy, old man.”

This was the same teasing banter the two of us had shot back and forth ever since I came to work for the company as a high school student - all those years ago. Dave had been my mentor, my tormentor, and now, in ways, my surrogate dad. There was a bond between us that could never be mentioned, but neither could it be broken. He was the most dedicated employee a guy could ever ask for and a great friend. I smiled at his sixty-two year old face and thought about my father for a few seconds – the two men had been best pals since high school.

“How about we tell the guys to go ahead and get an early start on the weekend. I’m sure there’s some kind of sports event on television over the next two days that they’re all going to lose money on from betting half their paycheck. We might as well let them get a few beers down their throats to make all that losing a little more tolerable.”

“That’s kind of you, boss. I know they’ll appreciate your generosity. You’re never going to start watching sports are you? No matter how hard I try to butch you up; you’re just not going to give in. I might as well stop trying.”

“If I actually started liking sports, my friend, you wouldn’t be able to use all those derogatory names you’ve been throwing out at me over the years – culture boy, theatre geek, pin striped pup, opera man, and all the other ones that should never be repeated because they’re so disrespectful to gay men.”

“Yeah, but those latter ones are my favorite. Watching the new guys freak out the first time they hear me call you those names is just too much fun. Besides, they’re all terms of endearment. And even if you became a rabid beer-gutted hockey nut, I’d still call you whatever I wanted.”

“You are just too much, Dave. I wish I could feel this comfortable around every other breeder I knew. Hell, I wish I could be this comfortable around every gay guy, I knew. It seems I’m not destined to ever have that level of contentment for very long.”

This comment made both Dave and me immediately think of Ben, my ex. My foreman was probably one of the only people on earth that realized how upsetting the break up had been for me. He had even doubled his ribbing of me over the last few weeks to remind me he was there for me and to help keep some things stable in my life. He had liked Ben a lot and realized the loss was pretty traumatic.

“You doing okay, sport? You need to come out to the shore with Doris and me this weekend? I’ll even get martini fixings for you when I stop to get my twelve-pack. We can get snockered together and drive my old ball-and-chain crazy with our work on the dock stories.”

“No, David, that’s fine. I think I’ll spend some time at home this weekend. I need to pack up some things that should have been tossed out a while ago. I appreciate the offer, though. I think I’ll let you and Doris have free range of that beach house, to help you release some steam. You’ve been looking a little tense, lately.”

“Oh thank God, I was hoping you wouldn’t want to come. We’ve been talking about throwing it down on the kitchen table when we’re out there this weekend and I wouldn’t want to miss out on that opportunity just because you were in the next room. Don’t sit around all mopey and shit the next two days, princess. Maybe you should got out and get yourself laid, too.”

“Yeah right, hell hasn’t frozen over yet, brainless.”

Talking this way with David made the world seem normal and perfect. His friendship was now the most consistent relationship I had had in my adult life, thanks to Ben’s departure. Dave’s joking with me was his way of saying he loved me. He couldn’t express real emotion, and I don’t think I could have handled it if he had, but he could tease me to help show how much he cared. The older man reached up and placed his calloused hand on the back of my neck and squeezed real hard. It was like my mother and father were hugging me at the same time – that’s how great his affirmation made me feel. I made a fist but allowed my middle knuckle to stick out more than all the other fingers and then brought the balled-up hand down hard into his thigh.

“Aw shit! That hurt, boy!”

“That’s for calling me princess. And the bruise will be hidden among the numerous hickeys Doris is going to leave all over your body after this weekend.”

“Yeah, that’s what I like to think about. Now you’re getting me all hot and bothered, boss.”

“Go on home to the Missus, then. And let’s get these guy’s out of here, too.”

“Yes sir! Anything you say, sir. You know I’m just here to do your bidding, sir. I’m only your poor abused worker. I think I might turn you into Human Resources for harassment. My thigh is still stinging.”

“I am Human Resources and, anyway, you like the abuse.”

“You know me so well. Okay boys, I’ve convinced our little boss here that he should let us all go home early today. He had no choice; really, since I told him we’d tie him to the forklift and leave him until Monday if he didn’t. Let’s shut down the dock and get started drinking at your personal favorite watering hole. I doubt any of us, however, will be going where the boss is going! None of us would be caught at one of his establishments!”

Dave moved quickly out of the way as I swung my arm to hit him after his comment. He was laughing hard and walking to his office in the corner of the dock. The guys all cheered and started shutting everything down. They all told me thanks as they began to get ready to face the bad weather when they left for home or a nearby bar. I was in no hurry to leave so I wandered around the dock and even told Dave I would do all the final chores he usually did after everyone left. I wanted him to get a head start out to the shore. It was then I noticed the new guy hovering around the lockers and it was obvious he was waiting for a chance to speak to me. I helped ease his apparent nervousness and initiated the conversation, finding it funny that he was still tightly wrapped – head to toe – in rain gear.

“How’s it going Marky . . . I mean Mark, sorry. Everyone treating you okay? You like it here?”

“Everything’s fine, Mr. Davis. It’s a great place to work and all the guys are very kind. I hope I’m doing a good job for you.”

“Dave says you’ll have his job one day.”

“I don’t know about that, sir.”

There was something about the way Mark used the word ‘kind’ that caught me off guard. I was used to the gruffness of the workers on the dock and something in this guy’s manner made it clear he was different. It was suddenly dawning on me that the man was obviously more educated than the other guys – he appeared more refined in some way. I smiled at him and still couldn’t believe someone that looked as young as he was really twenty-eight. Of course, all the rain gear he was wearing made it pretty hard to discern any differentiating facts about the guy.

“So, you got any fun plans for the weekend, Mark? Most of the guys have already drunk a fourth of their paycheck by this point. You’ll have to move fast to catch up.”

“No sir, no plans. I’m still so new here . . . I don’t know the city very well. It’s kind of hard to meet new people and I’m not sure I could keep up with the guy’s from the dock. I think they take they’re pretty serious drinkers. Also . . . I’m, um, not sure they go to places . . . um, I would like.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Loud sports bars with eighty screens going at the same time can be a little distracting.”

“Yes sir . . . it’s that . . . and, well . . . I think, um . . . I think you and I would probably . . . um go to the same . . . kind off places.”

I quickly glanced up from the paperwork I was sorting through on the counter near the break area and lockers. Mark’s face had turned a dark red. The hesitation in his voice, the way he was kind of shuffling his feet back and forth, and the change to the color of his cheeks and forehead made it clear what he was inferring. Without expecting it, my heart started beating faster and I was overcome with sympathy for the poor man. It had obviously taken every ounce of strength to make his cryptic confession. I knew instantly that the words I chose to speak next could have the power to crush or empower the guy greatly – I had been there too many times before, myself – so I paused briefly and smiled generously. I wanted to put him at ease.

“So, like me, the short skirted girls at the sports bar do nothing for you, do they, Mark.”

“No sir. But . . . the, um . . . hunky bartenders are usually very nice to look at, though.”

“Indeed they are, sir, indeed they are.”

The sudden new broad smile across Mark’s face made my heart almost burst from overwhelming compassion for the man. I was pretty sure I was one of the first people he had every shared this kind of information with and I was truly honored. The redness in his cheeks had darkened even more and I noticed the guy was even shaking a little. His nervousness was so charming.

“Let me guess, you moved to the big city to explore desires that have been building up inside you for years – feelings that couldn’t be entertained in your home town. You have a new sense of bravery now that you’re among so many other people and finding out that I was like you helped you to wait for a moment when we could talk alone – in hopes that I might be able to assist you in your new and exciting journey.”

“Um, yes sir.”

Mark hung his head, as if he were embarrassed that I had hit the nail so squarely on the head. It was like he felt he had disappointed me in some way. I could instantly tell I had made him uncomfortable – the one thing I had not wanted to do. I slid around the counter and leaned against it to move closer to Mark, but not making him feel like his personal space had been invaded.

“Hey Mark, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just a story that I’ve heard so many times before. I’m not making fun of you – I hoped I could show you I understood. I’ve been out for years, man, and it’s sometimes hard for me to remember what those first few steps into the gay world can feel like. Please don’t think I’m being cruel or anything – sometimes I just say the wrong thing.”

“It’s so hard to feel like what’s happening to me could be someone else’s story.”

It was probably one of the most honest things I had ever heard spoken by anyone. Mark was again looking at me and I could see there was a little more confidence than had been existing just a few seconds before. I also noticed, for the first time, that the young man was quite handsome – even though he looked very young. It was a clean cut all-American face surrounded by the hood of the pancho, as if he were the boy next door – the handsome boy next-door. I smiled, to put the man at ease even more.

“It’s all so new to me. I’ve been hoping to meet someone that might help me discern some things – like where are the good places to go, how to know what to say to meet someone, and what to do when you actually meet that certain someone. I know it sounds so crazy coming from a guy my age, but I’m just so lost, you know.”

“I get it, Mark. I may be older and been around for many years, but I can remember what it’s like to try and finally be honest and as authentic as you know you should. I’m happy you chose to speak to me. I guess it’s a good thing that the guys here told you I was gay.”

“Um . . . no one ever told me you were gay.”

“What? Then why did you decide to speak to me?”

“I don’t know . . . I guess I just had a feeling you’d understand.”

“Understand? Oh yes, I see. You mean you had a inkling that I felt the same way as you do.”

“Yes sir.”

There was another brief moment of silence as we both digested that latest revelation. Mark’s face actually shot a darker shade of red. He was slowly reaching adorable status – like a puppy that does fun little tricks just to get your approval. It was clear he wanted to say something else and I watched his face as he worked through his fear to finally allow the words to come out.

“Could we go get a few drinks, Mr. Davis? I was hoping you could show me a neighborhood bar where it might be good to meet folks. I’ve only stumbled into one leather bar and a lesbian club so far. I was hoping to find a place that had other guys like me.”

He spoke very quickly, as if he wasn’t going to be strong enough to get his question out completely, so he rushed it with one breath. I was overwhelmed by his obvious innocence and his desperation for assistance. I knew there was no way I could refuse him, but it did strike me as possibly a little wrong to go drinking with just one employee – we usually all went out in groups. It was also a little awkward now that I knew Mark was gay. I really didn’t want to mix any of the lines between employer and employee. The eager worker in front of me misinterpreted my hesitation and he started rambling uncontrollably – trying to backpedal out of his invitation.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Davis, that was a little too forward, right? I mean I’m sure you have plans and all. I’m sure you don’t want to take some fresh-out-of-the-closet guy to a bar. I bet you have people to meet. Just forget I asked. I can tell it put you in a difficult place and please know that wasn’t my intention. I really just wanted…”

“Mark, slow down. You misunderstood. Of course I can grab a few drinks with you. It would be fun to take you to my favorite gay bar. As a matter of fact, it’s not far from here. I just want to be careful with the boss-worker relationship, you know? I have to be careful – not about us, but more about how it might be viewed by other people. Let’s not worry about that, though, shall we. It’s been a long week. Hell, it’s been a long few weeks. I could use some adult beverages to refuel my soul. I do have one request, though, and I won’t go unless you agree to it.”

“What’s that, Mr. Davis?”

“You got to call me George, please. Mr. Davis makes me sound so old.”

“Sure, Mr., um, I mean George. No problem. And by the way, you’re not that old.”

“Thanks. Keep saying that all night and maybe I’ll believe it. It looks like I’m all ready to go, here, shall we?”

“Please. And thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it, I think we’ll have fun and it will be fun to show you a new place. We’re going to get a little wet walking, so I strongly suggest keeping the gear on. They’ve got a place to hang the stuff up to dry once we’re there. Let me hit the lights and we can take off.”

The excitement in Mark’s face was so rewarding. I got the feeling that the guy hadn’t been out with a friend for a long, long time – probably since he got into town. I wasn’t sure when that had happened, but I could tell going out was better than any Christmas gift he had ever received. I accepted the fact he was probably going to act like a kid in a candy store when we got to the bar, but that would definitely make the evening even more enjoyable. Who knew, maybe I’d introduce him to someone that could end up rocking his world later on. I would have bet six month’s pay that the guy was still a virgin – there was just something about him that reeked of newness. Mark was practically dancing while he waited by the door and I went around turning off lights and checking the alarm system. Yep, he was surely going to be like a kid in a candy store.

As we dashed down the sidewalk in the direction of the bar I realized I knew nothing about this guy. He had be hired by David and I hadn’t been down to the dock really since he has been brought on board. I decided this was going to end up being a great idea because I would get to know him better and, hopefully, would be able to steer him in the right direction as he continued to come out fully in the big city. It was raining cats and dogs and as we huddled under an awning at one point during the journey I asked if he thought we should get a taxi and Mark had said no, noting that it was kind of fun trekking to the place in the rain. At least the huge ponchos and rain pants were keeping our clothes pretty dry. When we got to the pub, though, in spite of wearing the hats, we both looked like drowned rats. We stepped into the small bar and I pointed to the back hall that led to the bathrooms and told Mark he could dry off in the back. I then added he’d find hooks out here along the wall by the door where he could hang his gear. I asked him what he wanted to drink and then began to pull off my poncho. He asked for a Fat Tire and headed to the back. My favorite bartender, Stanley, was working. I pulled my rain pants off over my shoes and then draped all the wet materials on one of the hooks.

“What’s up Stanley?”

“Look what the cat finally dragged in. It’s been way too long, George. Hey, I was sad to hear about you and Ben. I hope you’re doing okay.”

“I’ll be fine, sir. It will just be a period of adjustment, you know? Thanks for your thoughts, though. In the meantime, however, the doctor ordered me to drown some of my sorrows with one of your killer martinis and my wet coworker in the back would like a Fat Tire. Now, by the way, this guy’s fresh out of the closet, so go easy on him, okay? I’m afraid he’s going to be a little fragile since he just recently got off the bus in the big city.”

“Oh my! Fragile you say, fragile my ass, George. You’ve got it wrong. I think you’re going to have to tell your coworker to go easy on me. You didn’t tell me he was built like a compact wet dream muscle fantasy come true. Shit, man, tell me what bus he just got off of so I can go find me something like that.”

“What are you talking about?”

I looked up at Stanley after pulling the stool from the bar and sitting down. I instantly saw that he was looking at something over my shoulder and his face was on fire with a look that could only be described as full of lust. I turned to look in the direction of his gaze. The moment my vision focused on what had grabbed Stanley’s attention it was like the earth suddenly stopped spinning on its axis. Handel’s Halleluiah Chorus rang loudly in my ears. I immediately felt light-headed and worried about falling off the stool. Mark had hung up his wet coverings on one of the hooks and was now walking across the wide room. He had some paper towels in his hands and was busy rubbing them against his beautiful crew cut hair – to dry his dark locks. But what caused both Stanley and me to suck in air loudly was the fact the black NYPD t-shirt that hugged his torso was bulging out everywhere. I thought I was seeing a mirage or something – and then I thought I might be drunk, but then realized I hadn’t had a sip of alcohol yet. Mark’s bent arms were molded thickly and the biceps ballooned out in ways I had only seen on internet porn sites. Mark wasn’t a humongous guy or anything – probably five nine or five ten, but his body was packed with so much muscle that he appeared to be bigger than anyone I personally knew. The beefy guy made his way to the bar and he finished drying his hair. His massive arms were bulging rhythmically as he squeezed the paper towels into a tight ball in his large fists. Stanley and I just stared at the guy – totally dumfounded – and he finally noticed we were quiet and staring at him with shocked looks. His face turned red immediately, just as it had earlier on the dock.

“What? Is my hair messed up? Do I look horrible?”

“So horrible I could eat you.”

“Stanley! Settle down, boy. No, you look fine - don’t worry. Stanley and I were just kind of caught off guard, that’s all.”

“About what?”

“Oh my god, George, I have died and gone to heaven!”

“Stanley, stop it.”

“Stop what? He’s the real deal, George. Your coworker is the real deal. I think I need to go over there for a few minutes – to calm down and to fix your drinks. By the way, gentlemen, the first three rounds are on the house. If I can get you guys to stay here for an hour or two I may retire tomorrow and move to Florida – totally satisfied. I’m Stanley, by the way. It’s great to meet you . . . um . . .”

“Mark.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Mark.”

“Thank you, Stanley. Mark and I will take those drinks any time you’re ready.”

Stanley walked away, but couldn’t take his eyes off the innocent muscled dream in front of him. Mark looked at the bartender with a genuine smile and was completely unaware of what caused the guy behind the counter to suddenly walk into the wall, completely distracted. I stared at my younger employee and found myself totally flabbergasted. I had no idea that some guy working at the dock looked like this. I tried to figure out a way to describe him – in case I was ever called upon for that task – and finally settled on the fact that he was a dark-haired bulkier Dean Coulter. He reminded me of the porn star I had jerked off to for years, because of his awesome online videos – Submission, Sexpack, Eruption and so many others. Mark was similar because he had the same stocky tightly-packed body of perfect muscle that bulged and rippled any time he moved. I was so lost in the guy’s build that it took me a few seconds to realize he was talking. I finally shook my head and focused on his words.

“He seems like a nice guy. And he must really like you – to give us three rounds for free. I might have to stop after that. I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, Mr. Davis.”

“What was that, Mark?”

“I’m sorry . . . George. It’s so hard, you know. I’m used to paying respect to the people I work for. I guess I’m just old-fashioned and believe that I should make it clear by my response that I follow your directions.”

“Oh my fucking goodness, George!”

“Stanley, quit listening to our conversation and focus on those drinks.”

“Yes sir. I guess I should listen to what you say, too, George, right?”

Stanley’s sarcasm was not lost on me. I stared at the bartender and shook my head, making it clear that he should not pursue this particular conversation. I realized that Stanley was completely out of control now that he had gazed upon my stacked employee, but I also knew that Mark still needed time to adjust to his new surroundings – his new life. I did not think it was appropriate for Stanley to be the mentor for Mark’s further immersion into the gay world of our town. I turned back to my bulky Dean Coulter wannabe and smiled. I didn’t want him to freak out about Stanley’s obvious lusting.

“Um, Mark, I appreciate your politeness and please know that I affirm your appropriate upbringing, but I’m not the kind of employer that thinks of his workers as lesser or anything. We are true coworkers. You are vital to our organization just as much as I am.”

“Maybe even more!”

“Stanley, quit it. Don’t make me jump across this bar and stuff your mouth with fifty olives just to shut you up.”

“I’d like to tell you what I want stuffed in my mouth . . . “

“Stanley! I’m telling you, back down!”

“He’s pretty funny, isn’t he? I can already tell I like this place. I want to make it my home bar, George.”

“You feel free to come in here every day, Mark, and stay for hours. I’ll treat you something special every time, I promise.”

“Stanley, our friend Mark, here, is hoping for a safe place, void of any wolves in sheep’s clothing. If you know what I mean.”

The bartender had moved in front of us and placed our drinks on the bar. He was staring at Mark like a tiger ready to pounce on his prey. I didn’t know who to pity the most – Stanley, because he so desperately wanted the muscle boy in front of him or Mark, because he had no idea about the lascivious desire emanating from the man across the counter top. I wanted to somehow keep my friendship with both, but I didn’t want either to be offended. Stanley picked up on my bizarre predicament and decided to help me, which ended up being a blessing in disguise.

“You must work out, Mark, don’t you?”

“Um, yes. I love the gym. It’s like church for me.”

“I’d certainly like to worship at that altar.”

“Stanley, stop it.”

“What do you mean, Stanley?

“Never mind, Mark, ignore my diversions. And what do you think about the advancements you’ve obviously made to your body?”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty happy with my workouts, I guess.”

I took a big sip of my martini after raising my glass to say cheers to Mark. Stanley also poured himself a shot of tequila, obviously hoping it would control his urge to jump our new friend – or give him the guts to. Mark was still clearly oblivious to our reaction of his beautifully sculpted body. I was again shocked at how innocent and humble the muscled man before us seemed to be. It was so surreal that a guy as built and as handsome as him would still be so unaffected by his own attractiveness. I could tell Stanley was equally as impressed. Our jaded views of the world were being challenged by the complete openness of this young muscled sexy man.

“Do you ever notice how other people respond to your massiveness?”

“Well, I’m not massive, Stanley, but the other day a woman at Starbucks actually took a picture of me – flash and all – without asking. I couldn’t believe it. I was a little angry at first, but then some friends told me I should be flattered.”

“And rightly so! Friends, here in the city?”

“No, friends from college, I facebook them all the time.”

“Where did you go to school?”

“Harvard.”

“Oh fucking shit, George, I’ve got to go take care of myself in the back room. He’s got the body and the brains. You help anyone that comes in for a drink. I’m totally in love and need to release some tension right now or I may die.”

Stanley walked away quickly and disappeared through the back door behind the bar. I was completely taken aback by his departure, but I was also fully turned on by all that Mark had shared. My cock, which had been dormant for so many months, was fully alert and pressing against my pants in obvious tribute to Mark’s accomplishments on his body. I was trying hard to not let my dick rule my head, but I was quickly losing the battle.

“You went to Harvard, Mark?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why in the hell do you work for me?”

“I dunno, I guess I got disillusioned. I wasn’t ready for law school, so I took a break and moved here. I wanted a job that only lasted from nine to five, you know? Nothing that I would have to think about after hours, so I could work out and start coming to grips with being gay.”

“That sounds like the perfect attitude for someone that works at the dock”

“I know, right? I guess that’s why I like it so much.”

I stared at the beautiful man and was, again, excited by his answer. Mark was obviously very intelligent when it came to all things book-smart, but he had not yet learned the intricacies of gay street-smart – that only came from years of experience. I suddenly admired the man immensely and viewed him as much more than the side of muscled beef he had become within the last thirty minutes. I could see beyond the huge muscles and recognize the intelligent being within. This only increased my attraction for the guy. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the large knotty muscles bursting out all over his arms. But the guy didn’t notice me staring; he was too busy checking out the bar. There was a lull in the conversation and I couldn’t believe I suddenly asked my next question.

“Mark, you really don’t realize how attractive you are, do you?”

“What do you mean, George?”

“Well, hasn’t anyone ever said you were good looking?”

“Yeah, I guess. Girls used to come on to me all the time at school and afterwards, when I was working back in my hometown.”

“But no guys?”

“No, not really. Most guys won’t talk to me. I think I bore them or something. A friend told me once that I shouldn’t quote Proust so much or talk about obscure German movies. So, now I just kind of keep my mouth shut most of the time. A really drunk guy I met at a party once said I intimidated him, but he wouldn’t say anything more when I asked why. I think my sexual confusion might have made me a little stand offish, you know? I’m hoping that things change somewhat as I get more comfortable with the new me.”

“Somehow, I have a strong feeling they’re going to change a lot, Mark.”

“Thanks, George. I hope so. It’s hard being in this city and not knowing anyone. I just want to have some friends, you know?”

“Well, you have one now, Mark. Cheers.”

“Salute!”

I pressed the edge of my martini glass up against Mark’s beer bottle and found myself staring at the two globular mounds pressing out from underneath his t-shirt. His chest was almost too much for me to handle – full, perky, and bunching up beautifully whenever he moved his thick arms. I took a big sip of my drink – hoping it might help me move away from the abyss of desire I was about to fall into.
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(A place for me to post my stories in progress and other stuff I like)
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  #2   Add to divis24's Reputation   Report Post  
Old May 3rd, 2012, 06:03 PM
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Oh, dear God, Yes! Just how do you manage to get so far inside my head so often, Londonboy?

Thanks for the outstanding beginning of another outstanding story.

Cheers,
divis24
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Old May 3rd, 2012, 06:36 PM
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Yeah, boy! Another great Londonboy story, an instant classic. As always, the storyline is unique, the muscle description is greatly written, and there is potential for so much more muscle and strength description. I can't wait to read more!
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http://sports.groups.yahoo.com/group/yfhmk/

Only those serious about young muscle need apply. We do accept stories, but let's keep it clean. This is the only place on the web where Ragman's "My Nephew" Stories can be found.
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Old May 3rd, 2012, 07:28 PM
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omg londonboy...muscle literature that goes straight to the heart as well as the loins...
so beautifully written...a fantasy that took me away from my May slump expertly. thanks.
and more....
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Old May 3rd, 2012, 11:19 PM
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Is that it? Where's chapter two? You can't leave me this way. It's not fair!

Seriously though, Mark is just adorable. He was even before the reveal. I think we have an awful lot to look forward to. And so does George.
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Last edited by Shade; May 4th, 2012 at 12:07 AM.
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Old May 4th, 2012, 03:50 AM
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It's ANOTHER Londonboy "instant classic" with GREAT dialogue:

“No, not really. Most guys won’t talk to me. I think I bore them or something. A friend told me once that I shouldn’t quote Proust so much or talk about obscure German movies. So, now I just kind of keep my mouth shut most of the time. A really drunk guy I met at a party once said I intimidated him, but he wouldn’t say anything more when I asked why. I think my sexual confusion might have made me a little stand offish, you know? I’m hoping that things change somewhat as I get more comfortable with the new me.”



Love the complete lack of self awareness shown by our hot hero!

Write on, Londonboy!
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Old May 4th, 2012, 08:01 AM
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A blushing, shy muscle stud who's pre-law? Who would have thought that I'd be so turned on. Like Stanley, I gotta go to the back room now.
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Old May 5th, 2012, 05:48 PM
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Oh, the talent you share with us, Londonboy. I'm really enjoying this one, so I hope you are inspired to share more with us! Thanks!
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Old May 6th, 2012, 03:05 AM
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Absolutely dynamite story, really intriguing point of view. One of the most unique things I've read in a long time. Great job -- can't wait to see where this heads.
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