Bisexual Journey

I met Barry at the gym. I had started a new workout program with heavy weights to increase upper body strength. Barry, from out of no where, volunteered to be my spotter, one who stood at the end of the bench as a safety to help me put the bar and weights back on the rack if I ran out of steam. I did the same for him, though he lifted such heavy weight I would have had to scream for help if he ever floundered. He never did. His strength was awesome.

His strength and power was not evident in the way of typical photos in muscle magazines. No clusters of definition like huge boils ready to pop. His muscle development was more like slabs of meat, large and small, that covered his frame. His bellly had the shape of a shallow vertical slice of a barrel. His legs were as solid as oak trees. His shoulders and arms looked like they could pull an oak tree from the ground. These impressions formed for me by occasional glimpses in the shower room. He wore sweat shirt and pants on the floor.

Barry was as easy going as he was strong. One of those nice guys by nature, with no self serving manners at all. We fell into friendship on the benches, and by calling to confirm gym schedules we did enough chat to get to know each other. Sometimes his wife Betty, and their two lively young daughters came to the gym, and I was much taken by them in the juice bar after work out. They were the picture of a happy family, and that was something that had been provoking me for the past two years or more - finding my mate and having children of my own. I had women friends in great variety, and all the sexual relief I needed, but my "biological clock" was marching to the time of choosing a mate, a wife, permanent lover to cherish and adore, and create a family. If only I could find the right one.

Barry had no sexual attraction for me at all... until one night...

I was on my back on the bench and he stood at the end, ever ready to assist. I gripped the bar, flexing my fingers, focusing on the moment of exertion. My eyes strayed in the moment, and I saw, from upside down, or vice versa, his cock clearly outlined under the gray cotton pants. Why? Why then? It had always been there. Why was the outline so clear and prominent that night? My eyes lingered until I became aware and panicked that he might also be aware of my lingering eyes. I looked up at him and he was smiling down at me with benevolence and a fixed intensity too. That flicker of exchange passed and went somewhere, and was left alone.

I thought about it the next day, though. The more I thought, the outline became so clear I could see the flare ridge of the head under the fabric. Did Barry see that while smiling down on me? Did I expose myself in that helpless moment? Naw. It was too swift, too fleeting. Still, the next day I had the strongest cock fantasy in six years since Bryan. And that was out of character for me. My sex with Andy and Bryan began with a kiss. That was the turn on switch of my bisexual desire. A man so beautiful and physically attractive my first urge was to kiss him. Did I want to kiss Barry? An interesting question.

I did a mental inventory of his face. He was definitely not a pretty boy. But he was definitely handsome, in an ordinary way, I supposed. Pleasing facial structure, nice shaped nose, chin. Very warm and friendly eyes. Generous smile. Lips that... I couldn't create a clear image of his lips. I couldn't produce an image of me holding his face in my hands and kissing him, making him mine. But the remembered outline of his cock under the gym pants made my lips purse. My bisexual side had definitely awakened, after a six year sleep, with a single glance at Barry's cock under gym pants. Who can predict these things? Moreover, was he not wearing a jock strap? Deliberately not wearing one?

"Things" were set in motion at our next scheduled meet in the gym. I was again on my back on the bench, readying myself to lift. Barry positioned himself closer to the bar, much closer than before. The outline of his cock under the pants was ever more clearly defined. It drew my eyes like iron filings to a magnet. It was so close to my fingers flexing on the bar that my fingers felt a tugging current to move the few inches and touch it. The moment was fleeting, but it was filled with that sexual electricity that is all the more powerful when equally recognized and shared. Barry and I locked eyes in recognition. He had deliberately led his cock close to the bar to see my response, and my response was a smile that dovetailed with his. I knew what he had done. He knew that I knew.

That was enough. Our workout proceeded as usual, with no further transfer of signals. We went to the showers. The cubicles were in facing lines with a six foot wide aisle between. There were plastic curtains, but few men bothered to close them. I went into a cubicle, and Barry took the opposite one. We started with shampoo, then bar soap, lathering and cleaning. I made a surreptitious glance across the aisle. He was foaming his hair with his eyes closed. I stared at his naked body, seeing for the first time, really, the mass and muscle of him. The shape of his cock fully exposed to my gaze. It seemed to be mostly a large bulb resting on a bed of curly hair. As I gazed at his cock, his hand gripped it and pointed it right in my direction. I looked up at his face and saw his smile, unambiguous, offering what I had gazed at.

Damn! I had been caught. And I felt my face burn hot and red with embarrassment at being caught out. I turned my back to him and finished my shower.

We dried off and dressed, without speaking, our exchanged signals echoing in both our minds, silently declaring that sexual interest had arrived and staked its claim.

As we walked to the juice bar, I said, quietly, "Uh, back there in the showers, I was only admiring your muscles."

"About time," he said, "I have been admiring yours since I first laid eyes on you."

"It seems we have created a mutual admiration society."

"Which calls for a first official meeting." He said.

I felt an attack of different emotions and sensations inside me when he said that. A hollowness in my chest, a tingle in my groin, blood racing in my veins, dizziness in my head. With Bryan, I had been the initiator, the seducer, with a methodical and managed build up. With Barry walking beside me, I realized he was the initiator, the leader. That was new territory. That big powerful man had all but said at the weight bar and in the shower, "Here is my cock, I want you to have it." He was no stranger, but this was happening very fast. More over, it was only a week earlier that I had my first fantasy of his cock in my mouth. My first person I actually knew real life cock fantasy in six years. And he wanted me. There was no mistaking that. My decision did its own making. Because he wanted me, I wanted him.

"I have my own juice mixings I can make at my place, if you like. Unless you have to get home."

"I would like," he said. "Betty and the girls are away visiting her mom, and I have all night."

I gave him my address, and added I would drive slow enough for him to easily follow.

I drove in a pitch of high excitement. Tonight, after six years, I would have sex with a man again. Definitely a man and not a boy. The deal had been made so quickly it was nearly the same as picking up a woman in a singles bar. But reversed. He had come on to me. I had accepted.

Barry was outside my experience. Of course I had the occasional man fantasy over the past six years. The men were faceless, but beautiful, in a shimmery reflection of Bryan. I conquered and ravished them, while masturbating extremely powerful orgasms. Barry did not fit any of those fantastical images. He was bigger, taller, and ten times stronger than me. His "beauty" was coming together in my mind, but it was so wholly masculine it was a universe removed from the exquisite lines and form of Bryan's face and body. Because of that difference, sex with Barry would be an experience of new deminsions I couldn't quite visualize. And that sent my excitement level to even a higher pitch as I drove, frequently checking the rear view mirror to see he remained on my tail, wanting me, as I wanted him.