I looked at myself in the mirror and my reflection smirked back at me from behind the glass.
Looking good, you handsome devil, you, I thought to myself, as I patted scented aftershave onto my cheeks. I was preparing myself. Even if I was just standing there in front of the bathroom mirror in nothing on but my tight, grey Calvin Klein briefs.
I had to look good for tonight, had to get completely psyched for the event ahead, needing to know and believe that I am the fucking stud.
To that end I tried out every crooked grin I had into that mirror; trying not to come off as too much of a smart-ass, nor too aggressive either. And certainly not sneering.
What the fuck was the perfect smile to get me laid tonight?
All around me the posse assembled in the bathroom I shared with eight of my fraternity brothers. Everyone was preparing for the night ahead. The brothers were wired and the house was totally bustling in anticipation of the big night, almost bursting at the seams. It was as if the place itself had a hard on in expectation of what was to come, both figuratively and literally.
I turned my attention back to the mirror one more time, my hand straying to my recently shaved cheek.
It was definitely smooth as a baby's ass. I rubbed my hand from my cheek down to my smooth chest, appreciating the way my muscles bunched and flexed in the mirror, showing off ever minute of all the hard work I'd put into my body since I was fourteen years old. I was hot. So what? I'm vain. I embrace it. I was two hundred twenty pounds of thick, ripped muscle. Not so much that my six foot, three inch frame looked bulky, but rather nicely filled out. Damn, I was looking so fine that I just couldn't help it. I flexed my right arm in the mirror, my guns formed nice, rounded peaks like hard baseballs. Just for the fun of it I had a go with a most muscular pose. Mmmm, nice striations and a defined six pack. Hell, if I were a woman, I'd do me. But that wasn't enough. I felt the pressure of my brothers around me. I had a nervous feeling in my gut.
From the shower I heard someone yell out, "Hey, dude, no flexing in the mirror!"
I turn to see Jamie coming out of the shower, toweling himself off.
I broke out of my pose, starting to feel really good about this evening in spite of the pressure. Someone has started a chorus of 'I'm too sexy' to the assembled jeers of the rest of the guys in the room.
A'right, I thought, if that's the way they want to play it.
"Yeah?" I taunted Jamie, leering back at him, "At least I got muscle, man."
"Muscle?" he responded contemptuously, "Yeah, dude, that's all you got!"
I grabbed my crotch through my briefs, emphasizing the size of my balls in the process, in order to remind him that wasn't true.
"At least," I said, laughing at him, "It's all in the right place, fuckwad."
Not being able to think of anything to come back with, but trying hard not to be outdone, Jamie began a prissy little dance routine to egg on the riotous shouts of our buddies. I just waved it off. I was way too cool for that shit and I need to get dressed anyway.
I was like an actor. I needed to prepare.
"Catch you girls later," I called out loudly, as I slipped out of the bathroom, "I gotta get ready for my fans."
I turned my back to them, but I could hear the guy's catcalls following after me all the way down the hall.
In the relative quiet of my own room I dressed for the evening to come, needing to be perfect. I slipped on a white silk shirt and added a grey Italian blazer to the mix as well. Soon I started to feel the excitement of the night ahead. I felt my manhood stirring below in my already too tight Calvin's.
"Down boy," I said quietly to myself, "You'll get your turn later."
And I said a silent prayer to myself that it was true. I tried to relax myself back into submission in order to save my stamina what was to come. This was not a night for failure. No hunting party had failed in twenty years. I was going to be damned if mine would.
My attention was distracted as Doug knocked on my door.
He didn't wait for a response, but barged in hurriedly, as I was just finishing raking a comb through my chestnut hair.
"Ready, man?" he asked impatiently.
"I'll be right there dude!" I respond, grinning.
But he was half way out the door and down the hall before I'd finished.
I took a deep breath and took one good, long last look in the mirror to satisfy my incredible vanity. I could hardly believe that this was the last time I'd get to partake in this little ritual. It was a great honor.
"Gentlemen start your engines," I said to my reflection.
But it didn't respond.