Perfect Match

Bill woke up and looked out the window. Yes! The sun was shining! It was the first sunny Saturday in May, and the temperature was to be in the high 70s.

As he shaved and prepared to go out, he reflected on recent events: Bill had achieved his goals in bodybuilding; at 5 feet 8 inches, he weighed 175 pounds, solid and beautifully proportioned. His arms, neck and calves all measured close to 16”; his pecs were round and hard, his abs precisely rippled, his thighs thick and striated, his calves were like rough-cut diamonds. He walked over to the full-length mirror to take it all in.

“At my height and weight, I really am the best!” he thought to himself. He flexed his right arm and felt the rock-hard ball that jumped up. He knew he was blessed with great genes, but he had worked hard for this body, and he was really proud. He did a most muscular pose; the carved physique in the mirror turned him on. But no time today for getting off on his muscles: today was for adventure.

Bill thrived on competition, but he didn’t get enough of it. Bodybuilding contests bored him, and he had no interest in drugs. What he loved was one-on-one muscle and strength competition with other guys his own size. And he was always hot to wrestle with a muscleman! At the gym there was no wrestling room and no one in his size category who could give him any serious competition. So he challenged the big boys to arm wrestling. He liked to walk up to a big man, flex his right arm, and say, “You may be bigger than I am, but I bet I can take you!” The first two guys he approached blew him off, but Tom, who was 6 feet and 220 pounds with 18-inch arms, took up the challenge. They compared muscles, and Tom had to agree that Bill was more defined, better proportioned, and harder. But the arm wrestling was no contest - Bill’s arm went down, decisively.

Bill didn’t give up, and Rocky, who was about the same size as Tom, decided to accept his challenge, having seen Tom beat him. This time the arm wrestling was a real contest, but Bill won! He also beat Hank a few days later. After that, no one would arm wrestle with him, and that was the end of Bill’s competitive fun at the gym, except for an occasional comparing of biceps. Bill gained a lot of respect from his success, but he kept hoping a new guy would join who could be a real match for him.

So Bill had a lot of frustration in his competitive urges. There was no organized sport out there that met all of his specs, and he had trouble finding guys to compete with informally. Today he was going to let his muscles hang out for all to see. He hoped this might deliver some action.

Bill put on his posing briefs, which were also suitable for wrestling, and a red muscle shirt. He decided to keep his legs under wraps; he thought of them as his secret weapon. When he checked the mirror, he couldn’t help but admire those arms, exposed in full relief. Those were his guns!

He started down Amsterdam Avenue to George’s Restaurant for breakfast. Bill took pleasure in seeing that he was attracting attention even in jaded Manhattan. He smiled as he walked, with head erect and triceps rippling as he strode briskly along.

George’s was an old-fashioned West Side restaurant with U-shaped counters. Bill took a seat on one of the arms of the first U and smiled at the waitress, whom he knew well.

“Hi, Diane. Give me some OJ, four scrambled eggs, bacon and coffee. And rye toast, please.”

“Sure, Bill. And don’t you look sharp today! I think you look even better than the last time I saw you wear that shirt in the fall.”

“Thanks, Diane. I’ve been working plenty hard, and it’s nice to be appreciated.”

As Bill looked around, he noticed a girl observing him on the left from three seats away. She was blonde, a little pudgy, with braids, but fairly attractive. When he looked at her, she smiled at him. He nodded in return. It didn’t take her a minute to decide she was going to move to the seat next to him.

Bill was a little taken aback when she introduced herself as Barbara, blushing as she extended her hand. He wasn’t used to girls being this aggressive, but he guessed she was interested in his muscles.

After Bill introduced himself, Barbara waded right in. “I couldn’t help noticing those arms. They really are impressive! I bet you lift weights.”

“You bet I do!”

“Are you a bodybuilder?”

“Sure am, and proud of it.”

“Wow! I’ve never talked to a bodybuilder before. And I’ve never been so close to a muscular arm like yours.” At this point she really blushed. “Would you do me a favor?”

Bill guessed what was coming, and he was ready to take the lead. “Would you like me to flex that arm so you can feel it?”

“Oooh!” Barbara cooed. “Would you really do that?”

“Sure. I’m proud of what I’ve got. I’m the best around, at my height and weight.” Bill made a fist and tensed his left arm. Barbara grabbed it firmly.

“Holy cow! Is that ever hard! I had no idea it could be so hard!” Bill loved the words and the feel of Barbara’s hand. He could feel his cock stiffening.

“Thanks, Barbara. I’m glad you like it.”

At this point Bill wondered if anyone else had been observing this muscle show. As his eyes turned toward the other side of the U, they stopped abruptly on a guy about his age. Bill quickly decided that this was no ordinary guy. He was staring at Bill intently, his steely blue eyes practically looking through him. He had sandy blonde hair and high cheekbones, really handsome, thought Bill. But there were two things that interested Bill even more. The stranger was wearing a loose-fitting short-sleeved silk shirt that came all the way to the elbow, exposing only his vascular forearms, which had little trenches dancing as he drummed his fingers. And in the middle of the shirt was an open vee showing a chiseled cleavage...

Bill got really excited. This guy could have some serious muscle under that loose shirt.

Meantime Barbara was just getting warmed up. “That was so great! I can’t wait to tell my girlfriends that I met a real bodybuilder who let me feel his arm. Do you have to be very careful what you eat? How many times a week do you work out? Are you really strong? Have you ever won a title?”

Barbara babbled on, not waiting for Bill to answer her questions. And Bill couldn’t help glancing at the stranger across from him. As he looked, the guy started to...comb his hair! He raised his right arm high so that the loose shirt fell away from his bicep. Bill’s eyes popped. There was a knot of sculptured muscle the likes of which he had never seen. It was no bigger than his own, Bill thought, but what a shape! The guy tensed his bicep for half a second to make sure the message got through.

“Here’s breakfast, Bill.”

“Oh, thanks, Diane.” Bill was brought back to reality. But he had presence of mind enough to ask Diane, “By the way, do you know who that guy is sitting across from me?”

“Never seen him before.”

“Oh. I was hoping you could introduce me.”

Then Barbara jumped in again. “Hey, Bill, do you have any answers to my questions?” She noticed that he was distracted from her, and she was annoyed.

“Sorry, Barbara.” Bill didn’t want to ignore this girl who was so much into his muscles, but he was also determined to keep the guy’s attention. “Before I answer, let me show you something else I think you’ll like.” Bill moved his breakfast aside and stretched his right arm toward Barbara, putting his elbow on the table as close to her as he could. Then he made his bicep jump several times so that the ball was almost in front of her face but clearly visible from across the table.

Barbara was ecstatic. “I love it! I love it!” she said. “Can I feel it?”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll make it jump in your hand.” And he did, but he looked to the other side of the counter. When he caught the guy’s eye, the stranger signaled thumbs down with his right hand.

“Thumbs down! What’s the deal with this dude? Who does he think he is?” thought Bill.

Then Barbara got his attention again and pursued her questions, which he proceeded to answer. When it came to the question of strength, Bill bragged a bit about beating the big guys at arm wrestling. And he concluded, “For my size, I think I’m the strongest guy around.”

“I bet you are, too,” said Barbara. “You look it!”

Bill glanced again across the counter. The stranger was talking to an older man with white hair. The older man said something to him that made him laugh and throw back his head. Then he looked intently at Bill. He thrust his right arm forward, elbow on the table, forearm up at a right angle, and, making a face as if he were straining, pivoted his hand toward the table, slowly.

Bill surged with excitement, his cock already stiff by now. The message was clear...

“Barbara, that guy across the table has just challenged me to arm wrestling. You’re going to see some action!” He jumped out of his seat and motioned to an empty booth in the corner.

“Bill, your breakfast!” said Diane.

“Keep it warm.”

Bill led Barbara, and the older man followed the stranger. The older man made it clear from the beginning that he was going to run this show.

“My name’s Bob, and I want to introduce you to Nick.”

“I’m Bill, and this is Barbara.” Bill and Nick shook hands. Bill felt a thrill in the power of that grip, which he returned completely.

“I’m putting up $25 for the winner of this match,” said Bob. “I have to tell you, Nick is very confident.”

“Yeah, I’ll put up another $25 of my own because I know you can’t take me,” said Nick.

“Izzatso? Well, you might be interested to know that I’ve beaten guys much bigger than you. Here’s my $25 says I don’t lose. Let’s go!”

“Wait just a minute,” said Bob. By this time a little crowd had gathered around the booth. Bob went on: “Bill, we can all see that right arm of yours, and I have to say it’s impressive. But we ought to see what you’re up against. Nick, will you show us your stuff?”

“Folks, get ready for a real muscle show!” Nick lifted off his shirt and immediately struck a double biceps pose. “Prepare to be humiliated, punk!” There was an audible gasp from the crowd. Nick smiled as if he had already won.

Bill looked at that body and wanted to put his hands all over it, the knotted biceps, the rounded pecs, the chiseled abs. Nick was absolutely gorgeous. But there was no time for admiration - this was the heat of competition, and Bill was in his element. “I’m no punk, Nick. My arms are bigger and harder than yours, and you’re going to fall under my power!” He doffed his shirt and struck his own double biceps. Again the crowd gasped.

The two combatants held their poses and tried to stare each other down. Bill was beginning to get angry at Nick’s cockiness. But before he could utter another word Bob intervened.

“Bill, you just said that your arms are bigger and harder than Nick’s. Let’s find out the truth. I’ve got a pocket measuring tape, and we’ll need a judge for hardness.”

“That’s me!” cried Barbara excitedly.

“OK, Barbara. Let me measure first.” He wrapped the tape around Nick’s flexed right arm. “15 and a half inches,” he announced. Bill laughed. “Is that the best you can do, little man? Mine measures 16.”

Nick shot back. “I don’t give a damn if it does. It’s not size that counts; it’s performance. You said yourself that you had beaten bigger guys. Well, I’ve got the stuff to beat you.” With that he launched into a most muscular pose, much to the pleasure of the audience.

Bill responded with his own most muscular. He was listening to people’s comments: “I really think Nick’s going to take him.” “I like Nick’s feisty attitude.” “Bill really has the muscles - I think he’s bigger and stronger.” “What a match! Did you ever see two such muscular opponents?” This kind of talk got Bill even more excited.

Bob was ready to measure Bill. “15 and seven eighths,” he announced. Bill tried to pump a little, but he couldn’t swell the tape to 16. Anyhow, he had won this comparison.

Nick wasn’t going to let it ride. “Where’s that 16 inches, creep? You exaggerate your assets, and I bet you lie about your strength, too. Now let’s see if you’re as hard as you say you are.”

It was Barbara’s turn to be in her glory. She squeezed both arms with all her strength, but there was no visible compression in either man’s bicep. Blushing again, she nevertheless announced, “Bill is harder!”

“What? No way! This babe is in your camp, Bill.” With that Nick strode up to Bill and flexed his right arm again. “Feel this, worm, and tell me that yours is harder.”

Bill thought to himself, “Is this really happening to me? Is this cocky son-of-a-bitch actually ordering me to squeeze that arm that I’ve been hungering for all this while?’’ Bill looked at that flexed bicep right under his nose. He wanted to imprint it into his brain for life. He checked out the dramatic split, the vein crawling confidently up one side and down the other, the peak that looked like it would leap out of his skin, the skin itself that was so thin and smooth it highlighted every muscle and tendon underneath. Bill loved his own biceps, but he had never been close to an arm that turned him on like this one. He restrained himself to keep from cumming in his pants. Now he was going to put his hand around this incredible arm! And he made up his mind to push the envelope...

Bill squeezed with all his strength, then announced: “OK, Nick, you’re right. You’re as hard as a rock. But I don’t handle being called punk, creep, worm, and liar. After this match is over, I’m going to give you a more serious lesson. I’m going to take you in wrestling on the mat.”

“The hell you say. I’ll wrestle you till you cry uncle. But right now let me feel that arm to see if you really are as hard as I am.” Bill flexed, and once again the power in Nick’s grip thrilled him. His arm remained firm under Nick’s crunching hand. Bill decided to push the envelope again.

“While you’re here, Nick, why don’t you check out my pecs, my delts, my abs. You’ll find that I’m solid muscle all over.”

“Yeah? You may be pretty solid, but you haven’t got my cuts. No one my size has cuts like this.” Nick shot another most muscular, turning first to Bill and then to the crowd, drawing some cheers and smiles. Bill sensed he was losing the psychological war, and he didn’t like it. But he loved that body, and he took the opportunity to run his hands over those spectacular cuts. Nick’s hands were soon pressing on Bill’s chest and abs. The two men checked each other out thoroughly, making comments as they did.

“Bill, your stomach is pretty hard, but you haven’t got deep canyons like mine.”

“My delts are better than yours, Nick.”

“Look at these traps, Bill. No way you can match them.”

“Feel this arm again, Nick. Just remember how big and round it is when yours hits the table.”

While they compared and talked, Bill figured that Nick must be relishing this encounter as much as he was. He thought he detected a bulge in Nick’s crotch. But he finally got restless to start the match.

“Nick, you talk big and you do have great cuts. But now it’s time for action. Let’s get on with the arm wrestling.”

“Wait a minute!” shouted a man who had been watching. “I’d like a crack at feeling these hard bodies, and I bet there are others who would, too.” The group, now numbering about a dozen, responded affirmatively.

Bill’s heart sank. Was he going to have to spend time now passing his flexed arms and torso through all these people?

Bob to the rescue: “Ladies and gentlemen, these muscle guys have showed us a lot, but now they’re ready for combat. The match won’t last long. Maybe they’ll let you admire their muscles after it’s over.” Both men nodded in agreement.

Bob ushered them to the counter. They put their elbows down, then gripped tightly. Bill found himself reaching for his right bicep and squeezing it to be sure it was as hard and ready as he remembered.

Nick observed this maneuver and capitalized on it. He laughed and then said loudly, “You have your doubts, don’t you, punk? You’re maybe not as strong as you thought you were? You’re intimidated by these arms, aren’t you?” Whereupon he jumped his right bicep several times. Bill responded accordingly, but he realized he had lost another verbal encounter.

“You’re full of it, Nick. Let’s go.”

Bob took over. “On the count of three, guys. No jumping the gun.”

Bill knew that he would have to give his all instantly. He closed his eyes for concentration.

“One...two...three!” Bill surged all of his power into his arm. He felt Nick going down, slowly, ten degrees, twenty, thirty, forty-five...then the arm stopped. Bill kept his eyes closed; his concentration was intense; he was perspiring buckets. He gave it everything he had. But the arm would not go down. Nick’s resistance was awesome.

Bill had to open his eyes. There before him was another sight he wanted to imprint in his memory forever. He looked at the two arms, with muscles bulging and straining, at the abs pulsating, at the sweat pouring down. He saw Nick’s intense concentration, cables showing through his pecs. He wanted desperately to reach over and grab Nick’s arm and run his fingers over his torso so that the feel of the moment would be preserved. And while mesmerized by the sight, Bill lost his own concentration.

The momentum changed. Bill felt his arm moving slowly upright. He closed his eyes again, but it was too late. Nick kept the motion going, and soon Bill’s wrist touched the table.

Nick jumped up with a shout. The crowd responded with applause. Bill watched in silence as Nick held his hands up, then shot into his most muscular pose, wandering from person to person, letting their hands run all over those gorgeous muscles while he smiled broadly and answered their questions.

Bill heard people say, “You were sensational, Nick!” “ I knew you could do it!” “Those muscles are the best I’ve ever seen. And so incredibly hard!” “You said you had what it takes, and you were right!” “Can I take your picture?” “How did you get so strong?” “I always love to see a bigger man get beat!”

Bill was in agony. He had lost. He even had to cough up $25 of his own money. Everyone was paying attention to Nick, not to him. Everyone, that is, except Barbara.

Bill watched her approach, reach around him gently and grab his arm, saying, “You’re still my champion, Bill. I bet you could beat him another time. And, anyhow, you’ve got to get up for the wrestling match!”

The wrestling match! Where were they going to hold it? Was he able to put it all together after this defeat?

Bill began to reflect. Was it really important that he had lost? He thought about the excitement of the match, the thrill of the muscle competition, the verbal exchanges, the muscle show that they both delivered to an appreciative audience. This encounter was Bill’s dream come true. And they were both great competitors. Barbara was right. On another day, he might be the winner.

On another day! Bill realized he had to find out more about Nick so that there could be another day. In fact, what he really wanted was for Nick to come home with him today...

Meantime Bob took the floor again. “Ladies and gentlemen, I think you’ll all agree that we’ve been treated to something special. I know I’ve never seen anything like it. Both of these young men are outstanding for their muscular bodies, for their strength, and for their spirit. Let’s give them a big hand!”

The audience responded accordingly. Some of them actually looked at Bill and smiled appreciatively.

“And our day of exciting combat is not over. We have another challenge for wrestling on the mat. I know a wrestling room in a Y a few miles away that’s available today. I can take six in my minivan. How many want to go? Is there someone else who wants to drive?”

With a little discussion, it appeared that two cars would go.

“Bill, your breakfast!”

“Sorry, Diane. See you tomorrow.” And he handed her a $5 bill.

Bill was determined to ride close to Nick and talk to him about getting together afterwards. But there was no way: Nick rode in the bucket seat next to Bob, leaving him in the middle with...Barbara, of course, and three others in the back seat. There wasn’t much talk in the car. Bill was thinking about the wrestling, psyching himself for a really hot match. Gradually, the pain of defeat wore off and the excitement of the next encounter took over.

When they pulled up to the Y, everyone got out quickly. Bob latched onto Nick again, and Barbara did not let go of Bill. As they walked into the wrestling room, Bill knew he still had his secret weapon to unveil.

Bob orchestrated again. “OK, guys, what are the rules? Pro-style? Freestyle? Submission? You tell me.”

Bill was faster this time. “I’m going to make Nick submit to my power. But no pro-style punches or throws; this will be clean, submission mat wrestling.”

“I don’t need to fight pro-style to beat you, toad. Prepare to be humiliated again.”

Then both competitors stripped for action. Bill was so eager to see Nick’s legs that he almost forgot to undo his belt. And the legs were indeed super-defined, as he expected. But Bill took satisfaction in noting that his own were bigger and better shaped.

Once again Bill jumped in first with a psych attack. “A little light on the pins, aren’t you, man? Take a good look at the muscles in these gams!” And Bill flexed his legs for full display, following up with a series of full body poses.

“You’re forgetting the cuts, twerp. Nothing light about these legs; they’re pure power!” Nick responded with his own leg and body show, and there were appreciative comments from the audience. “Wow! I’ve never seen two such perfect physiques!” “I think Bill’s legs are more impressive.” “What proportions! We’re getting our own bodybuilder show, only much better.” “Even the Greeks couldn’t have produced two combatants like these!”

Bob took charge again. “Ok, fellas, once again you’ve given us a great appetite for the match. Now let’s go.”

Bill faced Nick on the mat. His cock stiffened in his briefs as he eyed Nick moving around, muscles twitching and eyes focused in concentration. If anyone saw his own bulging crotch, what the hell: this was the excitement he had been dreaming of. Soon he would be wrapping around that gorgeous body...

Nick made the first quick move, twisting Bill and hurling him to the mat. But Bill responded fast on the mat, not letting him get control. They writhed and turned; they traded headlocks, each gaining the upper hand briefly and then being dislodged by the other’s power.

Bill soon felt he was in a kind of trance. He didn’t want this erotic body contact to end. He made his hands move over Nick’s muscles at every opportunity, squeezing, stroking, pushing. He restrained his own power a little so that he could savor the experience. And he sensed that Nick was doing the same. Once Bill felt he could have ended the match as he threw Nick on the mat, but instead of pressing his advantage, he backed off and let Nick get up so that they could start again from a standing position.

The two combatants circled each other, and Bill got a thrill just staring into Nick’s eyes and watching those gorgeous muscles tensing and readying for action. Soon Nick charged, and this time it was his advantage; they rolled, turned, and Nick was on top of Bill, holding down his arms, breathing heavily into his ears. Now Bill experienced another scene that he wanted to etch in his memory forever: the sight of Nick’s abs heaving, his muscular pecs straining, cords stretched and taut, his arms pressing down, their legs intertwined, crotches touching with their hard cocks straining to get out. One side of Bill didn’t want this moment to end, but his competitive spirit took over, and he used all of his strength to flip Nick and reverse the position. Now it was his turn to be the lord, and he got an equal thrill looking down on his struggling opponent: It was glorious! But the crowd didn’t think so. “Hey, guys, how about some real action?” “What sort of a wrestling match is this?” “Are you two a couple of fairies or something?”

The last comment caused both wrestlers to wince. Bob stepped in. “Guys, how about a test of strength? We’d like to see who’s got more full body power!” The crowd cheered this suggestion.

Bill let Nick go and they jumped up. They extended their arms up and intertwined their hands. They closed in on each other’s chests and placed their heads side to side, bracing their legs for the mighty push.

“OK, when I say three, give it your best shot!” announced Bob

On the count of three, Bill did just that. He felt the intense strain on his hands, his extended arms, his back, his firmly braced legs. The thrill of matching Nick’s power was overwhelming! His body tingled from the tips of his fingers to ends of his toes. He loved the feel of Nick’s chest against his, the electricity of the locked hands, the heavy breathing in his ear, the sweat pouring from his entire body. For a good thirty seconds they held each other almost motionless. Then Bill began to prevail, his extraordinary legs digging in and driving Nick slowly backwards. Arms, shoulders, back reinforced the legs, and suddenly Nick was down, Bill in control. He moved quickly to wrap his legs around Nick’s and lock his head in a full nelson. Nick resisted bravely, but he was hopelessly locked, losing his wind under the vice grip, and finally uttered those words so sweet to Bill’s ears, “I give.”

Bill immediately crawled over to help Nick up and shake his hand. Nick drew close to him and whispered, “This was the most perfect match I ever had, and the most erotic.”

Bill was stunned and thrilled and whispered back, “Nick, you’re the best. Come to my place afterwards.”

No more conversation was possible. This time Bill was the center of attention. He had to pose for the crowd and let them run their hands over his flexed muscles. Barbara was grinning and hugging and shouting for joy, “I knew Bill was the best! He’s my champion!”

Bill gave her a hug and a kiss. “Thanks for your faith in me. It meant a lot to have you come to me even when I lost the arm wrestling. And you helped me get psyched for this match, too.”

Bob offered his congratulations. “You really proved your power, Bill. I’ve never seen two fellows so well matched and so willing to let us spectators participate. There was a lot of action here that made it much more fun than a bodybuilding show. This was a real sporting event!” And he grabbed Bill’s bicep for the last time while shaking his hand.

The group was dispersing. Bill looked around for Nick. He was nowhere in sight.

“Did anyone see where Nick went?” Bill asked. He was worried and puzzled.

No one had seen him leave. Nick had slipped away.

“Bob, do you know his name and address?”

“No, I didn’t talk to him except about the contest at hand.”

And he was not known at George’s. Who was this Nick? And why in hell did he leave without saying a word?

As the group broke up, Barbara wanted to stick to Bill, but he was too upset to deal with her now. “Give me your phone number, Barbara. I’ll call you soon. But I gotta get home right away.”

“OK, Bill. Thanks for giving me the most exciting morning of my life. I’ll always remember you.” And she gave him a final hug.

Once alone, Bill struggled with anger and confusion. How could this guy walk out on him? He had talked about what a great match they had; he had used the word “erotic.” He had surely been as excited as Bill from the beginning. He was masterful in using flexing, bragging and insults to add drama to the contest. He admired Bill’s muscles, relished the body contact, and reveled in the competition. Why wouldn’t he respond to Bill’s invitation to continue the process in private?

As Bill reflected, he found a line of thought that might have been Nick’s response to the scene. He reflected on how perfect this event was: the extraordinary match in muscles, strength, and wrestling. He thought about the pleasure of interacting with the audience, of giving them a special thrill, too. He returned in his mind to those indelible images of the two arms locked in combat, of Nick’s flexed bicep under his nose, of Nick circling around him ready to attack. And he could feel Nick’s body next to him as he remembered how they rolled and writhed on the mat and how they strained against each other in the test of strength.

Maybe this match could not be continued with the same intensity and drama. Maybe it was better to take home just the images and the memories, realizing that this was a once-in-a-lifetime event...

When he got home, Bill was less upset and angry. He kept reliving the match, drawing enormous pleasure, his cock hardening as he focused on special scenes. He lay on the bed and began to jerk off.

Then he stopped. He got up and walked to the window. He remembered how it felt to interact with that rock-hard body, to compete against the power of Nick’s muscles, to sense Nick’s breathing in his ear, to experience the full eroticism of the encounter. And he remembered his excitement in anticipating a private session with Nick. He looked out at all the people on the sidewalk and thought about how long he had waited for such an opportunity.

Now Bill was consumed with anger. Nick had rejected him! His frustration spilled over as he yelled out toward the street, “Nick, where the hell are you, you idiot? I want you now!”

He watched the crowd. There was no one out there who could hold a candle to Nick. Out there somewhere in that big city was his perfect match. And he was lost. How the hell could he lose this guy! Why the hell would he disappear? How could he not be as excited as Bill was to follow up on their encounter? Didn’t he feel Nick’s hard cock as their sweating bodies rubbed against each other?

He went back to the bed and lay flat on his back. He couldn’t concentrate.

He picked up a bodybuilding magazine and tried to get off on some of the muscular bodies he saw. But all he could think about was Nick. He looked at the flexed biceps and remembered Nick’s, right under his nose. He saw a “most muscular” pose and thought about the thrill of running his hands over Nick’s muscles.

Nick was gone. And Bill couldn’t get him out of his head.

He turned on the TV. There was a nature program on the Galapagos Islands, one of Bill’s dream destinations. Bill watched, only partially absorbed. He was getting angrier and more frustrated.

The doorbell rang.

Bill almost didn’t answer it. “Probably some kind of salesman,” he thought. But he strode to the intercom and said, “Yeah, what do you want?”

“Bill, it’s Nick.”

Bill couldn’t believe it. But he was still angry. He pushed the button without saying a word.