I have recently been doing some thinking about my relationship with muscle, strength and domination. I haven't come to any deep realizations. But I have remembered some really formative moments in the development of my relationship to muscle.
One of those was an experience with what I have called Unexpected Muscle, those chance encounters with muscle, sometimes a fleeting moment, when it's least expected.
I had met a friend for dinner at a Thai place in the Castro. We were shown to our table and I sat down on the banquet against the wall and my friend took the chair. He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair.
He's taller than me, about 6 feet tall, and has a slender build that he has built up over the years into a lean and sculpted physique. I find him very attractive and usually find reasons to compliment his build when we're together and after. I mentally took note of how good he looked.
After he'd sat down and the waiter had left us, he simply lifted up his right arm and flexed it right there in the restaurant, admiring his own arm. His biceps balled up into a fine, vascular peak, and the sleeve of his shirt, slipped down off the muscle into the valley between his biceps and his delts.
I was shocked. Nobody had ever flexed for me in a public place before! And his arm looked great.
He kept his arm up and flexed and turned to me and said, "I know you're going to tell me about how good my muscles look later in an email, so I thought I'd give you something to talk about."
With that he turned to look at his own arm again and rotated his fist from over his biceps around away from them and back again a couple of times, making his biceps slide and move. Then he dropped his arm and picked up his menu.
This is not my friend. I've posted this picture before, but it seemed right as an illustration for my recollection.
I couldn't help but sputter my thanks for the flex. I'd always hoped to see him flex, but never imagined it would happen in public. It was seriously one of the most erotically charged events in my life. For the rest of the meal it was hard for me to focus on my friend's face when we talked. My eyes kept drifting down to his biceps, noting how nicely shaped they were and spotting the obvious vein that ran out from under the shirt sleeve, down over the front of his biceps and down onto his fore arms.
He's long known that i'm a muscle enthusiast, that i admire his physique even though he's not a bodybuilder. It was such an unexpected joy to have him flex for me like that. I only wish it could have gone on longer and that I could have reached out and touched it. But it is from such wishes that my fiction is born.
