He walked up to me and smiled. Holding out his hand, he said, “I’m Giovanni.”

I bet you are, my mind thought.

His chest hair was cropped short against his tanned chest, an even covering of hair that added contrast to his rippling muscles. His pecs fanned out and sloped to a washboard stomach. His treasure trail made the perfect hourglass pattern. He was perfect.

Carlos returned with my Coke, and Giovanni thanked him. He took the glass and handed it to me. Carlos stood there for a second, but before he could say anything, the announcer called him to the stage. He ran his hand through his spikes and headed to the stage.

My body swooned and I sidestepped to a table nearby. I leaned against it, hoping it would hold me up.

“Enjoying your stay in Toronto?” His hand played down my side as he moved next to me. We watched Carlos dance and untie his drawstring. His surfer shorts slipped lower. The crests of his butt glowed in the spotlight. My heart quickened.

His voice was smooth. “Did he tell you how this works? You pay by the song for the special dances upstairs.” I watched as the wrestler guided a man in his sixties to the back hall. Dante had the hand of a blond football player down the back of his underwear; both men were laughing and whispering in each other’s ears.

“So do you want a dance?” Giovanni’s hand stroked my neck and played with my hair, his fingers curling and uncurling my locks.

I couldn’t speak. He was perfect, but I wasn’t sure what to do.

“You’re shy. I think that’s cute.” He continued to play with my hair and ran a finger down the opening of my shirt. His nail combed through my chest hair. “Is there another dancer you like better?” he asked. He pointed to Carlos. “He’s very hot. Tight butt, big penis.”

On stage, Carlos’s shorts were off and the yellow jock was working its way down his hips. His ass shone in the spotlight.

I wanted to look at Giovanni, but wanted to see what was underneath that pouch.

Giovanni laughed as he watched me struggle. “Enjoy him on stage and enjoy me upstairs.”

I took a big sip of Coke and almost choked as Carlos’s cock sprang free from the jock. Giovanni slapped me on the back as the ten inches waved at me from the stage.

“I need a little more time,” I said between coughs and Coke.

Giovanni made a signal to the bartender and spun his arm in a circle in the air. The bartender picked up the microphone and announced, “The Legendary Giovanni is next.” Giovanni turned and kissed me on the forehead. “For luck,” he said.

He dashed off toward the stage, but instead of ascending the stairs that Carlos was descending, he jumped up onto the stage in one graceful leap. He started to sway with the music and dance around the pole. His spine hugged the pole and he swung around and around, each time, his eyes focused on me. They seemed to hold me.

My eyes never left him; he seemed to be dancing just for me. The crowded room shrank and all the patrons seemed to disappear. It was just the two of us and the music. He opened his belt and ran his hands down his chest and across his stomach, his fingertips dipping below the waistband of his jeans.

His belt flapped as he moved his pelvis so that it slapped the pole. To the right and to the left, his hips gyrated, his eyes never leaving mine. How I could make eye contact and still absorb his body’s motion was beyond me. He did low knee bends and squats.

My heart wished him to hurry and take off his clothes, but another part of me wanted this to last forever. The song ended and another one started. The button on his jeans opened and his flat abdomen was slowly exposed. The fan of hair grew darker and thicker. His belt acted like a large penis on stage, flopping one way and then the other, slapping the pole.

My body tingled with the electricity in the room. My heart beat in time with the music. All the hair on my body stood straight up on end.

His zipper slowly lowered, the denim giving release to the fleshy mound beneath. His erection rose from the V and sprang into life. His tight jeans worked their way down his legs and exposed his perfect body. He danced and swayed.

My mouth watered as he moved. The music rose and he smiled at me. I smiled back. He cocked his head to the side, toward the back hallway and the upstairs rooms. He glowed with pleasure and excitement. “Do you want a private dance?” he asked me from across the room.

Could I be reading his mind? Was I able to read his thoughts? My body swayed with the music. The beat grew and my palms went damp. I wiped them on my legs and smiled.

“Come with me,” Giovanni called with his silent glance. “Come with me.” He danced and danced. The music climaxed to the last note.

And I said, “Yes.”

Applause broke the silence as Giovanni pulled up his pants and zipped them before the announcer could say a word.

My legs stood and walked to meet him.

He jumped off the stage and extended his arm in my direction.

I ran to him.

His hand reached for mine as the audience parted. Our fingers wove together as our palms touched. He pulled me to the hallway and up the stairs. The stairs rounded at the top, and we entered an area that looked like it was lined with dressing rooms. Giovanni grabbed a key, and we entered one. He motioned for me to sit on the bench and he stood with his hips at eye level.

“What would you like me to do?” he asked as the Pointer Sisters’ “Dare Me” started. He opened his belt and unzipped his fly. He pushed his pants down to the tops of his boots and moved closer.

I reached around him and cupped his ass. His cheeks fit perfectly into my hands, like they were made for each other. His buns were warm and tight, a fine down covered them as my fingers massaged the muscle and explored the crease. Despite his workout on stage, his skin was dry and soft. I looked at his tan lines that showed the Speedo he must wear when he tanned. I licked my lips as my hands rounded his hips and my thumbs lifted his balls. They dangled low and heavy. They rose with my thumbs as my fingers combed through his hair. His erection stood straight out in front, even bigger than on stage. His foreskin covered the mushroom end and a red light hit something that glistened on the fold. A drop of pre-cum seeped out.

I breathed in deeply, with his erection at the tip of my nose. A musky, male scent assaulted my nostrils and I felt faint. I was dreaming, and I didn’t want to wake up. My fingers ran up and down the length of his shaft. My own hard-on threatened to rip through my pants. His foreskin pulled back and the head of his cock came into view. The deep pink smooth head had another pearl on the tip. My index finger touched it and it slipped off. I rubbed it between my fingers and savored the sensation, warm, wet, and slippery.

Giovanni moaned as my fingers encircled his girth and ran up and down, pulling the foreskin back and forth, exposing and covering his sensitive glans.

“What would you like?” he breathed. His wet tip brushed my nose again and the sweet manly scent filled my nostrils.

Before I could speak, his hands worked my fly open. He pulled down my Calvins. A huge wet spot soaked the front of them. He squeezed the cotton between his fingers and then brought them to his mouth. He licked the ooze off and swallowed deeply, savoring the taste.

His cock lowered slightly by my mouth and my tongue slipped out and tasted his pre-cum. Sweet and salty, and all male.

His hand squeezed more pre-cum from my briefs and brought his fingers to my mouth. My juices mixed with his. Ambrosia.

“Want to try something I enjoy?” he asked.

I nodded and stood. I was unable to speak.

He pulled his foreskin down and opened the fold wide. He spat into his hand, wet the folds, and rubbed the head of my cut cock with his other hand. Spreading the pre-cum around, he guided my cock’s head into the end of his foreskin. His tip met mine, and our juices mixed. He pulled the hood over my cock, securing them together in a vacuum. The thick ooze made sucking noises as our dicks rubbed back and forth in the skin hood.