The Pool

It was one of those odd summers in the city, a sense of general inertia to do too much in spite of the amazing weather. Here I was, a 26 year old single man in New York City, always looking for something to do on the weekend without ever trying to hard. I'd just come off a breakup with a long distance girlfriend and I was looking to put that summer body to good use.

If there's one thing I'd say about myself, it's that I happen to have, and am very proud of my physique. It wasn't slender nor bulky, but I'd put on 30 pounds of muscle in the winter and I looked like a finely chiselled muscular specimen in time for the summer. Being bicurious was exactly what it was -- at this point of time a curiosity. I'd downloaded the apps, and have gone into gay bars but nothing really happened. I'd begun to feel frustrated. I'd long embraced the fact that men and women both attract me but I could never figure out exactly what type of man.

I'd spend hours in the gym, squatting, benching, deadlifting and was rewarded for my efforts with a body that men and women would stare at from afar, yet never approach. It was a random, fateful weekend and I thought I'd have a better time just tanning at the rooftop pool in my building. I'd hardly used it the past summer but since I figure I'd put myself out there, I thought I might enjoy some sun. Besides, slipping on those tiny swim shorts and putting my quads and smooth musculature always got me excited regardless whoever was watching.

It was about 11 am, the sun was in the sky and I slipped on a tight pair of spandex swim shorts and a tanktop, grabbed my AirPods and phone, then proceeded up to the pool. The ladies in the community would oft stare and smile as I walked by, maybe not out of admiration or attraction but the shock of a heavily muscled individual in their midst. I got to the rooftop and stepped in, I was perhaps one of six individuals at the pool. A few out of shape guys and 2 young moms who'd caught my eye before playing with their kids. I wasn't against chatting up the ladies, just never felt compelled to.

I settled into the routine, picking a spot, setting up the deck chair, selecting a song, and finally my favorite part -- remove my tanktop to display my body. I'd always sense gazes lingering as I removed my shirt, and it was something I admit I did enjoy flaunting or showing off. I turned around and a few of the mothers earlier looked down as I caught their gaze, but I wasn't going to do anything. I merely smiled, nodded and sat down to read.

I must have read for about 15 minutes when I felt myself slowly drifting into a lazy slumber, what with the heat and the pool and the breeze. I was just about to slip into the entirety of a nap when a large shadow moved across me, which startled me awake. In a half asleep half awake state, I looked up and for the first time something stirred in me. An older couple carrying towels and floats had just walked in to quite the ruckus, fussing over sunblock and water supplies. The lady was Caucasian, blonde in a bathing suit -- of average build about 5'8 and in her mid 60s. And the gentleman.

To this day, I still cannot fully fathom my feelings in that instant nor what happened. But something electric stirred through my body, ending in a rush of blood to the nether region. Confused and slightly conscious that it might be slightly visible to my tight spandex pants, I shifted in the deck chair uncomfortably.

He was about 6'2, but in my recollections he was much larger than that. He was huge, and not in the musclebound sense, no. He was huge -- a silver haired large gentleman with thick legs, a gut hanging out, a broad chest with what I recall to be the hint of 'man boobs' and large thick arms that I could not tell were muscle or fat.

He was large, a larger than life figure, broad in every sense, tall and he exuded a sense of mass or gravity in the way only large objects can. He had a hint of muscle, probably the vestiges of a youth spent powerlifting or working out. And that gave his size some shape to build on, which the years and retirement have probably covered with flab.

His hair was grey/silver, and he was wearing board shorts that hugged his posterior almost too well. He walked in with the lady, his wife -- I saw him put a massive arm around her waist and guided her to a series of empty deck chairs. He must have been in his mid to late 60s, which made sense because he then said to her, "Did we have to bring this many floats, we only have 3 grandchildren."

For the oddest reason this amplified whatever strange sensation I was feeling. He wasn't particularly good looking, just large in every way, wasn't particularly attractive and yet something about him struck me so. I couldn't tear my eyes away as he moved so massively and powerfully, applying sunblock to his wife, awaiting the arrival of 3 children I assumed to be the grandchildren he spoke of.

I sat up on my chair, drinking in every movement of his as he hugged his grandchildren and stood up, moving to the pool. It was a hot day and it was understandable he'd want to cool off. He stepped into the pool and I got a closer look at his broad body. He had a gut hanging over his shorts but it wasn't large or round in a disproportionate way. He was a large man and it somehow enhanced his physique more.

He took a few laps in the pool as I continued staring, moving surprisingly easily through the water. By this time my base instinct had fully awoken and while I could not understand the stimulus, nor was aware of it, I was indeed stimulated.

On his 4th lap, he stood up and looked around and this was when his gaze caught mine, staring at him wordlessly and agog. I was in a blind panic and didn't know where to look. If my eyes could bore holes they'd have looked right through his skill, that was how intensely and engaged I was staring at him. I defaulted to what most people do in that situation -- I smiled and nodded.

After what must have been an eternity, anxious as to his reaction at my obvious staring, he smiled back and nodded which I took my cue to look down back at my book. My mind was racing at this point, now acutely aware of the undeniable erection I was struggling to hide. I didn't know what was happening -- I had a body that I always expected could only be satisfied with perfection, another similarly sculpted muscular man or woman to be intimate with, full of youth and vitality.

And yes, that had always attracted me but never had I ever imagined I'd feel this way over a large old portly grandfather I barely knew. He was much older than my own parents, and what's more the logic screamed at me; he had a wife, grandchildren, and I assume kids probably older than me. My excitement was quickly giving way to confusion and unease, and I felt compelled to leave. I packed my things on autopilot and made a move for the elevator in a blind hurry but not before stealing another glance at him.

He had gone back to lounge on his chair, his massive midsection hanging over. A huge slab over what looked to be a firm large belly. He was greying all over, as one would expect of a 68 year old. I expected this to somehow repulse me and somehow I still could not bear to leave even as the elevator approached. He'd gone back to attending to his grandkids and didn't quite notice me and I took that as a sign to leave before he'd see me looking again, hurriedly jamming the button to my floor as the elevator doors closed.