Istvan examined the titles on the spines of the DVD cases, while Barto cheerfully rambled on.
“One night, a man came in here, all excited,” the clerk said. “He told me, ‘I just saw that muscle fuck Adolar Mezey guest pose at a physique contest. Give me one of every video of his that you’ve got! I can’t wait to get home and start jerking off over him.’ I’ve had customers who aren’t shy about telling me what they want—hell, I’ve even had customers come on to me!—but that guy was exceptionally candid. Maybe too much so, in fact! He probably had himself a marathon masturbation session.”
Which is sort of what I have in mind, for myself! Istvan thought. When he saw a title which seemed promising, he pulled the case out and studied the lurid nude photos of the performers on its front and back. Naked, pumped up, erect, and smiling, Mezey posed with other massively muscled and well-endowed bodybuilders, and with voluptuous women, on the covers of the bisexual videos. Istvan had no difficulty selecting two promising titles, A Biszexuális Edzés Haver [His Bisexual Workout Buddy], and Ö Izmos Szerelmeseinek [Her Muscled Lovers].
Then Istvan decided that his third purchase, and his fourth, the half price one, should be all-male productions. Narrowing his choice down to two videos in which, judging by the cover images, Mezey had especially bulgingly muscular costars, Istvan settled on Meztelen Izom Férfiak [Naked Muscle Men], and Nem Nő Megengedett! Adolar Mezey—Más Forró Izom Férfiak! [No Women Allowed! Adolar Mezey—With Other Hot Muscle Men!]
“Oh, good choices!” Barto complimented him. “Will that be all?”
“Guess so,” Istvan mumbled. Should be enough, he thought. To give me a “gay” good time!
The two men returned to the checkout counter. In order to prevent shoplifting, the actual DVDs were kept in transparent plastic sleeves, stashed away in boxes and bins behind the counter. Barto found the ones which Istvan had selected, and he put them in their corresponding cases. “Anything else?” Barto asked, again. “Condoms, lubricants, poppers, magazines, toys—?”
“Ah, no thanks. Just the videos.”
“They make me ask all the customers that,” Barto said, with his characteristic easy laugh. “My boss drilled that into me when he trained me. But we do have this very nice, high tech lube. It’s silicone based. Doesn’t dry out, the way water-based lubricants do. Feels great, when you’re fucking, or when you’re just stroking yourself, too,” Barto assured Istvan, with an unabashed frankness. “Might be good to have handy, while you’re enjoying your videos,” he added, slyly.
“You’re quite a salesman,” Istvan declared. “Do you get paid on commission?”
“No, strictly by the hour, so I’ve got no axe to grind,” Barto said, cheerfully. “But I do like the customers to leave here happy. That’s good business practice, it encourages them to return. I like guys to feel comfortable, when they come here. While I’m making my sales pitches … we have these bottles of liquid poppers, too. A couple of them might turn out to be useful, to enhance the viewing experience.”
Istvan had to laugh. “All right. You’ve worn down my resistance, dude, and I’m sold. Give me a tube of the lube, and two of those bottles. Then I need to get out of here and go home, before all of my money flies out of my wallet.”
“Money spent on pleasure is always money well spent,” Barto suggested.
“Do you like working here?” Istvan asked, as Barto rang up his purchases.
Barto shrugged. “I don’t dislike it. It’s only a second job, to bring home some extra money. The hours suck,” he said, bluntly. “They like guys who can work the graveyard shift. And it can get kind of boring, as you can imagine, when business is slow and no customers come in. That’s when I get a lot of reading done, as you see. But it’s not hard work. Some of the customers can be a little strange, but I know how to handle them. And most of them are nice. All kinds of people are into porn. There’s nothing wrong with that. Hey, since you’re a new customer, here are some free samples. Rubbers and little packets of different kinds of lube. And this herbal capsule that’s supposed to give you a bigger, harder erection. I wouldn’t take it on a bet, myself, but they give us the samples to hand out.”
“Thanks. You’ve been a big help, Barto.”
“Admit it. You were kind of nervous when you first came in here, weren’t you?”
“Was it that obvious?”
“It was painfully obvious. But now you’re okay, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I guess I am.”
“You know, if you’re really interested in the bisexual scene—there are lots of other people who are interested in it, too.”
“Yeah?”
“For sure.”
“I wish I could talk to some of them.”
“You can talk to me.”
“Are you—?”
“Oh, absolutely. I’m into it, big time.”
“But you’re married, aren’t you?” Istvan asked, glancing at Barto’s wedding ring.
“Lots of bisexual men—and women—are married. And we don’t necessarily keep our being bi a secret from our spouses. Of course my wife knows I like men,” Barto added, anticipating Istvan’s question. “She approves. It turns her on.”
“That’s interesting.” Istvan thought about his cocksucker, and his presumably quite open-minded wife.
“Here, let me give you my phone number.” Barto wrote it on the back of one of the store’s business cards, and he put it in the bag along with Istvan’s DVDs, freebies, and receipt. “Give me a call sometime. We can go have coffee or something, and talk about it. And of course you can drop in here, any time I’m working, and we can shoot the breeze. There are nights when it’s slow, and I could use the company!”
“Thanks, Barto.”
“You’re welcome. This was an easy sale,” Barto joked. “I do get the kind of customer who spends hours in here, looking at everything, but never buys anything. That can drive me crazy. And don’t even get me started on the guys who spend hours hanging out in the back room, feeding tokens into the machines in the peep booths, hoping to hook up with somebody.”
“Do they ever—ah—come on to you? I think you told me they do.”
Barto grinned. “I did say that. And they do. All the time.”
“And do you ever—?”
“Let them get past the flirting stage? Not as a rule. I don’t think it’s a good idea to mix business and pleasure. But hey, I’m only human. I might make an exception if a really good-looking guy happened to walk in some night. You know, a guy like you. But then, I’ve got a weakness for muscle men. What guy in his right mind doesn’t? I like them big and hard and pumped up—and potent. Shit,” Barto declared, gleefully. “Now I sound as though I’m writing the blurbs for those goddamn muscle fuck videos of Mezey’s!”
Istvan could feel himself starting to blush again. Barto was only teasing him—or was he?
They exchanged goodnights. Istvan left the store. As he headed for his car, he felt oddly warm, despite the slight chill in the night air. He wasn’t invulnerable to Barto’s flattery. Istvan liked the guy—and he hoped that Barto’s interest in him was more than casual and professional.
Chapter Seventeen: No Women Allowed
Several days had passed. It was late in the afternoon, and Barto was doing what any respectable young married man ought to be doing when he got out of work. Instead of going straight home to his wife, he had a rendezvous at a downtown coffee shop. He was meeting another young man there, and he hoped that the two of them would end up in bed together. There was nothing furtive about this appointment on his part. Barto had made it with his wife’s knowledge and approval. She seemed almost as eager for him to keep his date and get laid as he was!
Barto had told Szonja about his encounter with Istvan at the video store. As he wryly put it, it had been the high point of a long, slow night.
“Tell me more about this kid,” his wife asked. “What’s he like?”
“Very good-looking. Almost pretty. You know, delica
te-looking? He’s got just a hint of peach fuzz on his upper lip—you can hardly call it a real mustache. And a hint of a goatee between his lower lip and his chin. You know, what they call a ‘dick target.’ But don’t worry. He’s also got a nice build. He’s obviously been hitting the weights, he’s nicely pumped up. A hottie, in short! Although he’s kind of shy. But shy in a sweet way, not in that ‘I’m a dumbass who doesn’t know what to do with my dick’ way that can be a pain in the ass. I bet he’s pretty hot in the sack.”
“You sound quite taken with him, Barto.”
“Well, I’m not blind. And I had plenty of time to check him out, while he was browsing through the porn, and the two of us were talking.”
“You don’t think he’s still a virgin, do you?”
“Um, I didn’t get quite that vibe from him. He seems like a typical college student. You know, living away from home for the very first time … experimenting … doing a lot of things for the very first time. And enjoying every minute of it!”
“So you gave him your phone number. Why didn’t you ask him for his?”
Barto leered at her. “Listen, baby, I liked the looks of this kid, but I’m no cradle robber. I’m not going to chase after him. Let him be the one who makes the first move, if he’s interested. And I think he is. I have a feeling he’ll give me a call.”
“You seem awfully sure of yourself.”
“I’d be willing to bet money on it. He had that look on his face when he left the store with his stash of Adolar Mezey porn. I could tell he was hooked.”
“You smug bastard, you!”
“And those DVDs that he took home with him—they’re bound to put all sorts of ideas into his head. That dude Mezey—Mr. Homo Hungary—he’s quite inspirational. The motherfucker is just about the patron saint of all us bisexual guys!”
Subsequently, Barto wished he’d made Szonja take that bet. Barto had been delighted when Istvan phoned him, one evening at the start of the next work week.
“Maybe you don’t remember me—” Istvan had begun to say, after he’d identified himself.
“I remember you very well,” Barto assured him. “You came into the store on Friday night. You bought four of Adolar Mezey’s DVDs—two of them bi titles, the other two all-guy productions. You went for the ‘buy three, get the fourth one half price’ deal. I talked you into purchasing a few extras, which I hope you liked.”
“Oh, I liked them just fine. I must say, you’ve got a good memory.”
“It’s all part of the customer service we try to provide. The important thing is, did you enjoy the videos?”
“They were fantastic!” Istvan blurted out. “I mean … shit! I couldn’t believe a bunch of huge muscle dudes would actually do things like that to each other! I haven’t been able to stop watching them, and jerking off over them, ever since I brought them home.”
“Well, that’s sort of the point, isn’t it? But I’m glad you like them.”
“The reason I’m calling you is … ah … you did tell me if I had any questions about this whole bisexual scene … ?”
As Istvan fumbled for words, Barto quickly came to his rescue. “I think I told you we could get together, for coffee or something, and talk about it—face to face. Would you like to do that?”
“Yeah.” Istvan sounded relieved. “Very much. Please.”
“When’s a good day and time for you?”
They compared schedules. They agreed to meet at the coffee shop the following afternoon, when Barto got out of work and Istvan was finished with his last class for the day.
Barto promptly told Szonja about the phone call and his date with Istvan—and he wasn’t above gloating a little.
“Do you think he’s the kind of guy who fucks on the first date?” she asked her husband.
“He will be, if I have anything to say about it.”
“God, you really are a smug bastard. Just my luck—I have to have a husband who thinks he’s God’s gift to other men, and whom twinks find irresistible.”
“Oh, trust me, this Istvan is no twink. He may be young, but he’s all man.”
Barto and Istvan met at the coffee shop, and they sat across from each other at one of the establishment’s small tables, sipping their brews. They made small talk—discussing sports, their respective family backgrounds, that sort of thing—before moving on to more interesting topics of mutual interest. Barto took out his wallet and showed Istvan a photo of Szonja.
“Oh, my God, Barto,” Istvan exclaimed. “Your wife is gorgeous! She looks like a supermodel.”
“She may look like a supermodel, but she fucks like a porn actress,” Barto boasted. “She really likes sex. Sometimes one guy just isn’t enough to keep her satisfied.”
“And apparently, from what you told me the other night, she’s not enough to keep you satisfied,” Istvan said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be interested in other men, would you?”
“I guess not.”
“Do you and Szonja really do the kind of stuff they do in those bi videos? You know—for example, you and another guy, and your wife, all three of you in bed together, getting it on in all sorts of combinations?”
“We do that every chance we get. How do you feel about that, buddy?”
“The idea turns me on, in theory. And God knows watching those videos sure as hell turned me on, in actuality! That Mezey—he doesn’t seem to discriminate, not at all. Sucking a guy’s cock, being sucked by another man, fucking a dude, taking a guy’s dick up his ass—rimming, and being rimming—all that sexy body and muscle worship shit! He does it all, and he sure seems to like it, a lot. And then he sucks the woman’s pussy, and he bangs her—not just in her cunt, but in her ass! I couldn’t believe it, when I saw Mezey screwing a broad in her ass, while his buddy fucked her pussy—and then the two guys switched! Christ, that was hot! The man’s a sex fiend. But I guess I’m still kind of confused,” Istvan admitted.
“About what?”
“Well, to be honest with you—about what I am. You know. Whether I’m straight, or gay, or bi.”
“You’re just a kid,” the worldly sophisticate Barto, who was all of two years Istvan’s senior, told him in a reassuring, paternal tone of voice. “It may be too soon for you to decide which you are. And there’s no law that says you have to pick one, you know, to the exclusion of the other two. You could even be pansexual.”
“What’s that?”
“That’s when everything and everything turns you on. In other words, you’re a real pervert. Like some of the guys who hang out in the back room of the store.” The two young men shared a good laugh over that. “But seriously,” Barto went on. “You’re not a virgin, are you?”
“No. I’ve had sex with girls … and I’ve had sex with guys.”
“And with two girls in bed with you at the same time, or two guys, or one of each—a girl and a guy?”
“No. Nothing like that. I’ve never been in any kind of a group sex scene. Strictly one on one, so far. Nothing like that all that wild, hot shit you see in those videos you sell!”
“Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere. Which do you prefer, women or men?”
“I don’t know. I like them both.”
“There’s always the Desert Island Test.” Barto went on to explain what that was, before Istvan could ask. “If you were stranded on a desert island with one other person, a complete stranger who was willing to have sex with you on demand, would you want that person to be a man, or a woman?”
“Wow, that’s a tough choice. I guess it really wouldn’t matter to me. It would depend on this stranger’s personality. But we’re not talking about personalities, are we? We’re talking about sex.”
“Right. And if you don’t have a clear preference, maybe you’re one of those guys who is truly bisexual. Who can go either way.”
“Maybe. But in your case, you’re married, so you must prefer women.”
“Yes and no. Again, it depends on the situation. When I give myself the Deser
t Island Test, it’s a no-brainer. If I could choose the person ahead of time, then of course I’d want to be with Szonja. I really do love her. We’re not just husband and wife, we’re best friends. But that would be cheating. Your companion on the desert island is supposed to be a stranger. And in that case, I’d have to pick a guy. For one thing, I can’t imagine being stuck in most women’s company, Szonja maybe excepted, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. That would drive me crazy. The nagging—! Uh, don’t ask me about that, dude! You’re better off not knowing. A guy is easier to live with. And sex with a guy can be as rough and messy as you like, you know? You don’t have to look your best for him. And afterward, you don’t have to listen to any of that ‘you still respect me, don’t you?’ crap. Plus—a dude would be more useful, on this imaginary island of ours, for all the survival stuff. Building a shelter, hunting and fishing, and so on. If that sounds sexist, I apologize.”
“Oh, there’s no need for you to do that,” Istvan assured him. “I understand where you’re coming from. And your wife is really okay with you being bi?”
“She’s completely okay with it.”
“Doesn’t she ever get jealous?”
“Not as long as I’m only having sex with her, and with other guys. A lot of women are like that. They don’t feel threatened by another guy. It might be different if their husband, or boyfriend, was screwing around with another woman. And it works both ways. I’m never jealous when Szonja has a good time with one of the men I bring home. It’s just sex, really—recreational sex. My wife encourages me to fuck around with these other guys. As long as I bring them home and share them with her. I like to see another man fucking her. She likes to see another man fucking me. It gets really hot, though, when all three of us mix it up together.”
Bisexual Bodybuilders Vol 2 Page 4