I’m not a big gay-bar-kinda-guy, preferring more romantic dinners, walks, etc., but I found myself downtown on Church Street in the middle of Toronto’s “gay village” late one Friday night and stopped by a new-ish bar that used to be a restaurant before Maple Leaf Gardens ceased to be the home of the Toronto Maple Leafs.  

I sat at one of the window tables so I could see the cute guys passing by on Church Street and almost immediately the waiter came to my table as asked me what I wanted to drink. As I was telling him “Stella on draught, please” I was slipping off my jacket. To those of you who don’t know me, I am 26, 5’11”, 186 lbs., blue eyes, blond hair and well built. I train six times a week and am very well defined.  

As I took off the jacket the short sleeves of my golf shirt were pulled up revealing my biceps and triceps and as I pulled the sleeve down I noticed the waiter seemed transfixed on my arms. I also have very little body hair on my arms and legs, so my forearms, while really well-defined, vascular and striated, appear even moreso without the covering of hair that most guys have.  

I glanced up at the waiter and smiled back. He was anything but my usual type: dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, five o’clock shadow even more pronounced at 11:30 at night and small. He couldn’t have been taller than maybe 5’6”. He was wearing the standard black pants and long-sleeve white shirt that waiters are usually required to wear and the shirt was probably two sizes too big for him, at least at the waist. As he pivoted and walked to the bar to get my beer, I noticed that his traps, delts and lats all filled completely the upper part of the shirt.  

While I perfer blue-eyed guys over brown and blonds and redheads over dark brunets, as he came back with my beer on his tray, his smile was somehow quite captivating. As he approached, I noticed his eyes weren’t the dull brown that is predominant, but they seemed to dance and sparkle. His hair also showed a few lighter brown highlights that I hadn’t noticed before.  

As he set the glass down on the table, which was bar height, I watched as his shoulder and upper arms pushed against the shirt material and I smiled back at him. This guy was getting to me. Not really ‘my type’ but he was definitely pushing all the buttons necessary.  

I reached into my jeans pocket for a twenty dollar bill and as I did so, I gave him a little extra flex of my right forearm. I watched him watching me and his smile never wavered. In fact his smile brightened and his eyes widened when he watched my little flexing display.  

He said, “Man you have great forearms. How often do you workout?”  

“Six times a week,” I said. “Looks like you are hiding a pretty solid body too.”  

He blushed a bit and said, “I do OK, but I haven’t got anywhere near your size.”  

“I’ve actually lost almost 15 pounds from my heaviest weight of 198,” I said. “I felt too bulky then. I was really into gymnastics and I lost flexibility. Got it back now.”  

“Name’s Steve,” he said, and extended his small hand.  

“Brad,” I said, “Brad Ford.” I took his hand and was surprised by the strength of his grip. I squeezed a bit harder and then taking the cue, so did he. I tightened my grip again and he winced a bit. I immediately released his hand. “Sorry, Steve, I got carried away.”  

“I’d love you to carry me away,” he smiled. “I get off at midnight tonight.”  

“Maybe you stop working at midnight,” I said, “But I can see that you’ll get off a bit later than that.”  

“Deal,” he said as he spun away and darted off to the other tables.  

About twenty minutes later the other waiter arrived. It seems that the shoot (he was an extra in a movie in Toronto) took longer than expected, so Steve had stayed an extra four hours to cover for this other waiter. If he hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have met Steve. Funny how one thing is connected to another and another, etc.  

Steve came by my table and said, “Let me go downstairs and change. I’ll be back in a couple minutes and we can get outta here.”  

When Steve re-appeared, he was wearing a pair of faded and worn jeans that showed his quads off quite nicely thank you. They also showed off something else quite nicely that would turn out to be a surprise for me a bit later on. He also had on a tight red t-shirt which not only showed his pecs, but also his two nipple rings and his beautiful lats. He topped it off with a white Nike baseball cap and the picture was now perfect.  

The waiter whose cursive first impression was, for me, ‘not my type’. was standing in front of me and was literally oozing sex appeal. A hot little muscle boy, that was the stuff that wet dreams are made from and he was the one who picked ME up!!  

I finished my beer and grabbed my jacket as we both went out the front door, by the line of people now on the street waiting to get in, and walked north on Church Street to the parking lot where my VW Cabrio convertible was parked.  

I said, “You wanna come back to my place? It’s about a 20 minute drive this time of night.”  

“You bet,” Steve said and he put his left hand around my right forearm. “Any place where I can get to see the rest of this body.”  

“You’re pretty fucking edible right now yourself, you know.” I said and wrapped my right hand around his left bicep which he flexed for me and a baseball, hard and defined, appeared on top of his left arm.  

It was a nice night, temperature in the high sixties (high teens Celsuis) so I put the top down and we pulled out of the parking lot and headed north. We chatted about our training routines, about our jobs, about school and then the talk turned to sex: preferences, positions, favourite things to do and have done to you.  

I loved it, Steve was as open as I was about sex and by the time we pulled into the driveway of my parents’ home (I live in the basement, totally separate from my parents), we were both more than ready.  

I put the top up and locked the car and we walked around the side of the house and as I unlocked the back gate, I felt Steve’s hand on my ass. “Watch it,” I said. “I may sue you for sexual harassment,”  

“Shit I hope so,” he laughed.  

We walked along the lit back patio and the blue glow from the swimming pool shimmered against the back of the fieldstone ranch-style house that had been my home for the past ten plus years. I unlocked the back door, flipped on the lights and Steve followed me downstairs.  

At the bottom of the stairs is our recreation room with large screen television with three sofas grouped around a huge coffee table. To the right is the ping pong table and the right hallway leads to my brother’s study and bedroom.  

To the left of the sofas is the billiard table and Steve followed me down the hallway as I stopped at the first room, which is my workout room. I flipped on the lights and stepped inside. The floor is covered with 1” thick blue gym matting and three of the walls are mirrored with racks of dumbbells and in a corner is an adjustable weight bench.  

“No wonder you look like that,” Steve said as he grabbed my right bicep.  

“Feel like doing a workout before we attack each other?” I asked.  

“Sure,” said Steve. He bent over and undid the laces of his white Nike training shoes and slipped them off. Then came his jeans and t-shirt and finally his socks. He was standing there naked in about twenty seconds.  

“You have to learn how to be less inhibited, Stevie,” I laughed.  

As I took off my shirt, pants, boxers (Steve wasn’t wearing underwear), shoes and socks, I was able to look at the glorious specimen of musculature standing not six feet in front on me.  

From top to bottom…his traps were massive for his size and formed almost a 45-degree angle to his shoulders. His pecs, even relaxed, were defined with a distinctive shelf and his nipples were perhaps and inch-and-a-half in diameter with plain gold rings through them. Moving down to his abs, ah…his abs. I could do the wash on his abs! I have good abs, with not only a solid defined six-pack, but even an eight-pack when I flex my lower abs. Steve not only had a visible eight-pack, but you could also see the lowermost ab-pair which forms the almost impossible-to-achieve ten-pack!  

His delts, relaxed, pushed his upper arms out from his body a bit and in the front they were completely symmetrical. Same size, same angle. Amazing! His biceps, delts, triceps and forearms relaxed were all defined and hard. His quads seemed too wide for his waist, which was impossibly narrow. Only his calves, from the front, weren’t muscular.  

I asked him, “What do you weigh, Steve?”  

I’m about 148 or 149 at 5’6½”,” he said.  

“Can you flex your arms for me?” I asked.  

He immediately did a front double bicep pose and his arms each hatched baseballs and his forearms also increased their size noticeably. Then Steve went through a few of the standard poses: side chest, side tricep, front lat spread and then he turned to show his back to me. His back lat spread made him look almost like a funnel! His back double biceps really showed how his traps, delts and biceps all formed the ‘mountains-and-valleys’ look that guys strive for.  

He turned again to face me and I finally was able to pry my eyes away from his hard defined muscles to his cock. There it hung. Perhaps six inches long and soft, as thick around as many guys are hard.  

“Your turn,” Steve said. “Let’s see some poses.”  

I did the routine that I used a few years ago when I entered my one-and-only bodybuilding contest. When I hit a front double bicep pose I also sucked my stomach in. The pose is sometimes called ‘the vacuum’ and it only works if you have a narrow waist, which I do.  

By the time I was finished posing, two things had happened. One was that I was now covered with sweat (I sweat easily) and the other was that Steve’s cock was no longer hanging softly in front of him. It had grown longer, thicker and bigger and was now pointing at me. It was bigger and thicker than mine (and I have an eight incher which is six inches around), or at least his seemed bigger.  

“How big IS that thing?” I asked.  

“Eight inches exactly, and six inches around,” said Steve, “Why?”  

“That’s the same as mine,” and Steve and I both watched as my cock began inflating itself from its ‘at rest’ three measly inches, to its full size. Almost every guy that I’ve been with has watched in amazement as my cock does its thing. Face it, some guys are ‘grow-ers’ like me and others are ‘show-ers’ like Steve.  

Now the two of us stood facing each other, our equally hard and thick cocks also facing each other. The only thing is that my cock was aiming at Steve’s abs and his was aiming in between my thighs! We looked at each other and laughed. Here we were, two hard defined muscle boyz glistening with sweat pointing our raging hard-ons at each other. It was just too fucking funny.  

I said, “Let me show you how I work out.”  

I picked up a twenty-pound dumbbell and a fifteen pound dumbbell handing the lighter one to Steve. “OK,” I said, “Concentration bicep curls, one set, 75 reps. Let’s go.”  

“How many reps?” he asked.  

“Seventy-five,” I replied, “That’s it. It’s all about the reps.”  

We both stood facing each other, and began doing the curls. The first reps were naturally pretty easy, even for Steve, but as the reps climbed past 30 and moved into the 40 range, I could see him slowing a bit, but while he was slowing a bit, his forearm and bicep had exploded into a vascular, striated mass. I am vascular and defined but Steve blew me away with his vascularity. It was like hundreds of worms under his paper-thin skin.  

Steve was now dripping sweat. Good. I like guys who sweat as easily as I do. Comrades among the slippery! He was slowing down quite a bit now, so I slowed to keep pace with him. As we plowed through 60 reps, Steve yelled and grunted and seemed to gain a new bolt of energy, because he picked up the pace a bit. The energy bolt was temporary though and as we passed 70 reps he was giving every erg of energy that his body had, to do those last five reps, but he did them!  

As he let the dumbbell fall to the padded floor his bicep was over-gorged with blood and looked inflated even when he straightened his arm. I took his hand and gently pushed down on it, straightening it and he got the idea. He held his arm totally straight for a count of maybe ten, then shook it out.  

“Flex it,” I said.  

Steve flexed his right bicep and even he was impressed by its ballooned size. It still had the vascularity and the striations and the peaked baseball shape, but they all seemed a bit bigger.  

I flexed my right arm for Steve and he said, “How big when it’s pumped?”  

“It’s about 18½” right now,” I said.  

Steve spotted the tape measure draped on the end of one of the dumbbell racks and went over, grabbed it and I flexed my right bicep as he wrapped the tape measure around it. It was exactly 18½”.  

“Now you,” I said, and Steve flexed his still over-pumped right bicep. The tape measure read 16¼”. “Flex your left one.”  

“But I didn’t do the curls on that one,” he said.  

“Exactly,” I said. “Let’s see what the difference is.” The tape measure read 15¼” on the cold flexed left bicep. “Relax your arm for a minute.” I measured the relaxed left arm and it read just a shade under 12”. Then I measured the pumped right bicep relaxed and it measured 13”.  

“I’ve never gotten a pump like that in my life,” said Steve, and he kissed me. “How can I thank you?”  

I wordlessly reached down and grabbed his hard-again cock like a handle and said, “Follow me.” I led him out of the workout room, turned right and proceeded down the hall to my bedroom. I gently pushed him back so that he was sitting at the foot of my bed. I quickly knelt and spread his massive thighs apart and in one gulp, inhaled his hard cock right to the root, my nose buried in his dark brown pubes.  

He gasped and laid back as I began pistoning up and down on his hard cock. I could feel his mushroom head sliding down my throat and could taste his precum which was oozing out of his piss slit like crazy. I moved my hands to Steve’s pecs and gently flicked his nipple rings which must have been hard-wired to his cock because as his nipples got harder, his cock seemed to get even harder and thicker.  

It wasn’t soon after that he shuddered and began shooting spurt after spurt down my throat. I let his cock soften inside my mouth gently licking and sucking his cum and feeling his cock gradually soften and deflate a bit, but I wouldn’t release it. I pushed him up the bed a bit and he got the idea and without ever letting his now-hardening cock out of my mouth, I pivoted around so that Steve could now have full access to my leaking cock. He started by licking my shaved balls, which only made my cock leak even more precum down the shaft making it fully slicked.  

Steve finally let my balls slide out of his mouth and then he licked up the shaft of my quivering cock and wrapped his lips around my huge cockhead. As he slowly let my cock slide into his mouth and down his throat, he coughed a bit. I guess that while he had a big thick cock, he wasn’t used to sucking on one. Because I had been sucking myself since I was boy, I had plenty of experience with big thick cocks.  

Steve gradually got the feel and began slowly working my cock up and down. His cock had already achieved its full length, thickness and hardness again and I was back at one of my favourite activities: sucking a big thick cock. I really love sucking, especially when the cock is attached to a hard defined muscle boy like this one was!  

He may not have been as experienced as I was but he sure learned fast because is wasn’t long before I was on the verge of cumming and I didn’t know if he was willing to swallow so I tried to push him off he but he just grabbed me and pulled his mouth down even harder on my cock, causing his biceps to explode to baseballs again. I moaned and then started firing shots down his throat, but he couldn’t handle all of it and my cock fell out of his mouth still shooting and my cum was landing everywhere, like a garden hose out of control.  

Meanwhile my cumming triggered Steve’s cock and he started firing again, his second load in less than ten minutes. After both of us has cleaned each other off, I scooted around again and kissed Steve again, deeply, exchanging our tastes. We were covered in sweat and radiating heat like crazy, so as we hugged and kissed, our cocks were sliding against each other. We rolled around, him on top of me and then me on top of him, constantly kissing and exploring each other’s hard defined muscles with our hands.  

When Steve was on top of me I felt his hard-again cock slide in between my thighs. He whispered in my ear, “Can you please fuck me?”  

I reached over to my bedside table and grabbed some Wet lube and an extra large condom. As Steve took the lube from me and squirted some in between his legs and massaged the gel into his asshole, I unrolled the condom on my cock and then Steve squirted some lube on it. I spread it all over and got it nice and slick. I lifted Steve’s right leg up and ducked under and rested it on my left shoulder. He put his other leg on my right shoulder and I rubbed my cockhead against his asshole.  

Thinking that I should go slowly because Steve was, face it, not a big guy, even though he had big muscles, I played with his asshole with my cockhead, rubbing it back and forth, around and around. I was totally caught off guard when Steve reached down and grabbed my asscheeks with his hands and pulled hard. In an instant, my cock, all eight thick inches of it, was all the way inside Steve. Not a peep out of him either, just a contented moan, as he began bucking his hips and ass, while all the time I kept my cock stationary.  

I began to get into his rhythm and matched his ass, thrust for thrust. The sound of my thighs and his ass cheeks, both covered in sweat, slapping against each other and sending off mists of spashed sweat was almost as much of a turn-on as the feeling of my thick cock sliding in and out of his muscle ass.  

I said, “Try flexing and relaxing your glutes in time with my thrusts.”  

It took some trial and error but Steve soon was able to flex his glutes as I was pulling out and relax as I was pushing my cock all the way inside. Once he got the trick of it, it wasn’t very long before I began shooting a huge load. The sweat was spraying off me as my hips bucked and rammed hard against him. When I was done I fell forward on top of Steve and we kissed as we slid against each other.  

After we had cooled down a bit, I gently bit his ear and whispered, “Your turn.”  

I grabbed another condom from the table and handed it to Steve while I squirted some Wet lube in my ass. I peeled off the condom on my cock and tossed on the floor. Steve opened the foil pouch and slid the rubber on his cock and squirted some lube on it. He was manoeuvering himself to duplicate the position that I had assumed while fucking him, but instead I pushed myself down the bed a bit and then kicked my legs backwards up over my head. Steve watched as my still cum-covered cock dangled in front of my mouth.  

I shifted a bit and inhaled my cock and began licking and sucking it clean. Steve was awestruck for a few seconds. “I can’t believe that you can do that,” he said.  

I paused for a moment and told him, “You see my ass pointed at the ceiling? How about sticking that nice big thick cock of yours inside of it?”  

I didn’t need to say it twice as Steve stood on my bed, balancing himself a bit by placing his hands on my ass cheeks. He moved a bit and straddled my ass and slid his cock against my asshole. Now that my cock was easily inside my mouth, I was able to move my hands and I clasped them behind my head and flexed my biceps. Steve saw this and was drawn to them instantly. As he leaned forward he placed his hands on my biceps and his cock easily inserted itself all the way inside my waiting hole.  

It didn’t take Steve long to begin fucking me in earnest and because he was so much lighter than me, he didn’t have to be as careful as I was. He really got into it. His hands were squeezing my biceps, which I was flexing as hard as I could for him. My cock, now hard as a steel pipe again, was bouncing in and out of my mouth, propelled by Steve’s fucking motions. And Steve, yes Steve, this waiter whom I first met only a few hours ago and wasn’t even ‘my type’, or so I thought, had already cum three times in my own bedroom and was fucking me as hard as anybody had ever fucked me and was on course to cum a fourth time.  

Every once in a while Steve would slow his thrusts, deliberately pushing in as far as he could and holding it all the way inside me for a beat. That was my cue. One time when his cock was fully inside me, I flexed my glutes hard and when he tried to pull out, he couldn’t. I had trapped him inside me and he was quite content to keep my ass totally filled with his cock.  

I took this cue to begin my ass trick. I began flexing and relaxing the muscles inside my ass and the resulting internal massage of Steve’s cock made him moan audibly and throw his head back and shout, “YES”.  

It was then that I relaxed my internal grip on his cock and he began shooting yet again. I followed him, filling my mouth with my own cum. When we were both finished, Steve pulled his cock out of my ass with a ‘pop’, I unfolded myself and he again kissed me as we laid beside each other, now completely exhausted.  

We laid there for a few minutes and then I said, “Come on, let’s grab a shower.” Steve followed me into my bathroom and I turned on the shower and I pulled him in after me. We soaped each other and as the warm water rinsed us clean I stood behind Steve, wrapped my arms around his chest and kissed him on the back of his neck. “You were fantastic,” I said.  

I turned off the shower and we both stepped out. I handed Steve a huge white towel and as we dried ourselves, I asked him, “Can you stay the night, or do you want me to drive you home?”  

“I’d love to stay the night,” Steve said, “but I really should go home, but I can get a cab. I not gonna make you drive me home.”  

Needless to say I drove him home, at 4:45 in the morning. There wasn’t much talking in the car, more because we were just tired, at least I was. When I dropped him in front of his apartment, he leaned over and kissed me and gave me a slip of paper with his phone number on it. “Call me,” he said, “Anytime.”  

“Count on it.” I said and he shut the door.  

As I drove home, I thought about how a delayed film shoot caused a nameless waiter to miss the first four hours of his shift and how that in turn allowed another waiter to fill in for him. By chance, by sheer chance alone, I decided to go into a bar that I’d never visited before and was served by that other waiter covering his friend’s shift. Again, by sheer chance alone I was wearing a short sleeve golf shirt under my jacket and the waiter saw my arms. If I’d been wearing a long sleeved dress shirt, that wouldn’t have happened.  

When all these random events coalesced, the waiter, Steve, met the customer, Brad and it was lust at first sight for one of them. The customer had to get a second, third and fourth look before he knew and appreciated what he was looking at. In the end, both liked what they saw and four hours of the best sex I have ever had, followed.  

As I drove home, I wondered, but then I thought, “I can’t wait to invite him back and this time, have my boyfriend Ley to make a threesome!” I smiled for the rest of the drive home just thinking about it.