Eye of the Beholder

They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder - but every once in a while you find a lucky guy that almost everyone beholds as beautiful. Sure, I usually decry the fatal obsession that gay men have over good looks but every once in a while I realize I'm not exactly immune myself.


The Eye of the Beholder!
Certainly not anyone I know personally of course - since associating with such magnificent gods would have poor average me surely dying a slow, painful death. That doesn't seem to be a problem for my infamous ISO though. During one of our irregular meets, I dragged him out to a certain shopping mall and as we were entering the mall, we bumped into one of his gym acquiantances ( I just realized I don't even know what gym he goes to! :O I assume it's Fitness First! ).

Believe me when I say this guy looked amazing. Not sure where I've seen him before but Mr Cover Boy had one of those familiar faces that could have appeared in some hair or shampoo ads ( or perhaps in my wet dreams! ). Sure, my ISO is no slouch when it comes to the looks department but Mr Cover Boy was absolutely breath-taking. Not only did he have the prerequisite gym freak bod with all the attending muscular lumps and bumps but he also had the most amazingly smooth skin I've ever seen in a man, seemingly as smooth and poreless as alabaster and surely his toothy megawatt smile would have made an orthodontist weep in gratitude. God, you just had to hate him but the boy turned out to be charmingly bashful - and only in his early twenties, damn him!

After the brief introductions were made - that actually passed in a hormonal blur since I was literally transfixed by the boy's well-built chest - we made some small chat. Well, my ISO said everything that was proper while I gaped in a disconcerting way over the poor Cover Boy like a dumb, drooling Quasimodo.

Cover Boy : Oh and you're ISO's older brother?
Paul : No, I'm his father.
Cover Boy : Uhh.. I'm sorry. I just meant that...
My ISO : Not a problem. He's off his medications today so he's a little grumpy.
Paul : Grrr...

Of course I was mostly silent since any attempt to drag me into the conversation would have had me falling lips first onto the boy's perky nipples. After Cover Boy left - and I drooled mightily over his tight behind, my ISO saw fit to give me a light whack on my head to help me regain some coherence.

My ISO : What was up with that? You didn't say a single word back there.
Paul : Couldn't speak. My tongue was on the floor.
My ISO : He does look good, doesn't he?
Paul : Damn, wouldn't I give anything to walk in his shoes.
My ISO : Your wickedness in such a body? That would seriously wreak havoc in the civilized world as we know it. Anyway, nothing that good genes, a proper diet, regular facials and gym work wouldn't cure.
Paul : Yeah. Yeah. Like that ever worked. You dated him?
My ISO : No. Contrary to what you think, I don't sleep with everyone.
Paul : That's not what they're saying in the locker rooms.

If this post seems charmingly incoherent, it probably is. Seriously though, say what you will about the shallowness of pretty packaging but still it must be great to look that good. What must it be like to walk into a store, pick out the most outrageous pile of gunny sack and still come out looking absolutely fabulous? Hell, if I looked like him I'd be modelling underwear. It's good to share after all.

And no, this doesn't count as skanky since it's all in my head and I didn't say or do anything remotely kinky at all!