This story's a sequel to Copenhagen Couple and Meetings with Mark. It's not necessary to read those stories first, but some things will make better sense if you do.
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At the age of 20 and after my first experiences with male sex I acknowledged to myself that I was bisexual. But I wasn't going to be open about the fact that I liked to be with men. Sadly, bisexual men are often despised by both gay and straight guys, and even by some women. However in the beginning the main reason for being in the closet was that I was both shy and inexperienced and certainly not ready to go on the prowl openly. Also male sex took more trust than fucking a female, because I wanted to receive as well as give. Thus I had problems figuring out how to meet guys and hook up for sex.
I didn't want to hit on other students, mainly because college was my best source for fucking girls, so I feared to be labeled as gay. Nor did I at first dare go to the gay bars that I knew existed in Copenhagen. And I was even more wary about pick up spots like public toilets, seedy cinemas, Γrstedsparken, and other areas rumored to be meeting places for homos. But Copenhagen was (and still is) a relaxed city concerning sexual orientation, and there're also bars where both straight and gay people can go. So I gradually got used to flirting with both girls and guys, but nothing else happened.
Finally I worked up my courage to visit a gay bar/club, telling myself that I would just look and flirt. My vanity was gratified by the number of men who hit on me, as I stood by the bar clutching my beer. I indulged in some dancing and mutual groping, but avoided going any further. Perhaps due to the fact that my first experiences with male sex had been outstanding, I'd gotten rather picky, but in any case I wasn't really tempted. Maybe because most of the men who approached me, were a lot older, and the young guys I looked at mostly ignored me.
In the end I just stood morosely at the bar, trying to figure out why I was out of luck. Gradually, I became aware that one of the bartenders was having a discussion with an older guy, in between serving customers. I managed to join the conversation which centered on how to find good fitness centers. The guy at the bar certainly looked as if he worked out regularly, even if he was slim and toned rather than bulky. He was tanned, with short, dark-and-grey hair, a handsome profile and a firm mouth. His smile and the expression in his cool grey-blue eyes sent small tinkles up and down my spine.
In spite of him being double my age and my worry about being picked up in a gay bar, I still flirted a tiny bit and expected him to hit on me. But much to my surprise and chagrin he did no such thing, even if he certainly checked me out more than once. On the other hand he stayed next to me and we kept talking, as much as was possible over the noise. Yet when the bar closed, I had to go home alone and make do with a dildo and my very vivid memories of Mark and Michael. While trying to ignore and argue with the inner voice of my insecurity mocking me.
"Maybe he's not into younger guys, or he's in a relationship, or he might not even be gay." My nasty friend told me that he more likely didn't find me attractive, and I probably wasn't as irresistible as I thought. Maybe I should have been more explicit in my flirting, but somehow I had the feeling that it wouldn't have helped, and I'm usually quite good at reading these signals. Oh well, time to stop worrying about it, I told myself, but it was annoyingly difficult to desist thinking about those appraising grey-blue orbs and classical profile.
A couple of days later, I was at the gym where I worked out thrice a week, and as I was setting up one of the machines, someone spoke to me from behind. I turned around and almost gasped as I looked into a familiar pair of coolly amused eyes. My gut clenched and I was rendered speechless as I tried to conceal my surprise and excitement at seeing the handsome man from the bar. He seemed oblivious and just asked for my help in setting up the machine opposite mine, and I did my best. Even if I kept being distracted by his presence and alternately flushing hotly and shivering with a nervous chill when we touched accidentally.
My mouth was completely dry by the time he thanked me for my help. I returned to my own machine and began going through my set of exercises. I tried to avoid looking at him, but I couldn't help stealing glances. His fit body was well displayed in some expensive but very tasteful gym clothes that hugged his torso, arms and legs in flattering ways. Luckily my own clothes were baggy, because my dick started to get hard whenever I'd ogled him for too long. He ignored me completely, but I still had the feeling that he was perfectly aware of my interest. Finally, my torture was over and I made my way out of the room to get some water from the cooler in the corridor.
As I finished my second cup, I felt a presence behind me and the hairs on my neck rose. "You were quite right, this is a very nice place to train. I think I'll consider getting a membership." The words were accompanied by a firm hand travelling from my shoulder down to my ass, which received a quick squeeze on one cheek. I turned my head in shock and his sly grin made it clear that he knew very well who I was and where he'd met me. His voice was like dark velvet against my neck: "So tell me, how's the cafΓ© across the street? Is it worth going there for a meal afterwards?"
I managed to mumble "Ehm yeah, I often have a bit to eat there, if I don't feel like cooking a meal later." He nodded and went back to the gym after having a drink of water. I'd almost finished my own training, and I decided to skip the rest. There was no way I could concentrate with my dick throbbing against my stomach and demanding that I get this man's attention. After a cold rinse and then a long hot shower I got dressed and went across the street. I bought some food and a Carlsberg and sat down at a table which was in a convenient corner where I could see the entrance. I tried to read my book, but was distracted every time the cafΓ© door opened.