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Die neue Woche startete vorbereitet. Wir wussten, dass Ende der Woche Jan über Hundert Kilo wiegen würde – unbeachtet von allen in seinem Umfeld. Was mich an diesem Punkt auch ein wenig wunderte. Ich war der Einzige, der sich an all das erinnern konnte und den „Vorher-Nachher“ Vergleich hatte und ziehen konnte. Wahrscheinlich, weil die Mail von mir kam und ich selbst das alles genutzt hatte. Aber zurück zu unseren Vorbereitungen. Wir wussten nicht ganz, wie sich die zuästzlichen 40 Kilo verteilen würden und deshalb hatte ich noch am Sonntag ein paar meiner Klamotten zu ihm rüber gebracht. Dann würde es nicht ganz so auffallen. Aber wir wussten auch sicher, dass wir bald neue Kaufen mussten. Ich hatte nur bis 3XL bei mir zu Hause. Jan würde das spätestens in der nächsten Woche tragen und in Woche drei zerreissen. Ohne Anspannung. Wir spekulierten darauf, dass sein Dad vielleicht was locker machen würde – wobei das auch das größte Problem von allen war. So wie der gute Papa auf mich reagiert hatte konnten wir nur schwer abschätzen, was er zu seinem Sohn sagen würde, der mich um knackige 70kg übertreffen würde. Montag Laut unseren Rechnungen war es so, dass Jan pro Tag durchschnittlich 5,5kg zunehmen würde. Ungeachtete der Tatsache, was er zusätzlich essen würde und wenn er noch trainiert. Ja... Jan hatte tatsächlich vor so lange zum Fußballtraining zu gehen, bis er nicht mehr mit kam. Schnelligkeit war ein Ding der Vergangenheit. Aber er bekundete schon Interesse an Football.... In der Schule am ersten Tag sah man nicht viel. Er hatte jetzt seit Sonntag insgesamt 11kg zugelegt. Das Shirt saß um die Brust etwas definierter, der Biceps füllte den Ärmel etwas besser auf. Alles nichts dramatisches. Dienstag Sport Tag! Nach unserem kleinem Intermezzo der letzten Woche sah ich nun Herrn Becker wieder. Er wirkte in seiner ganzen Erscheinung autoritärer und uns gegenüber reservierter. Jan war jetzt mit 75kg in einer Liga, wo man schon von einem light-weight-junior-Bodybuilder sprechen konnte. Das 6pack war höchst definiert und man konnte sogar schon die letzte Reihe sehen und der Weg zum 8pack war deutlich zu erkennen. Die Taille war schlank, die Brust schon deutlich massiger, breitere Schultern und die Fußballer-Beine waren größer denn je. Aber all das erregte in der Kabine kein großen Aufsehen. 75Kg... ich bitte euch. Ich war mit meinen 150kg immer noch eine Augenweide. Aber.... Jan gewann recht viel Aufmerksamkeit durch seine Beule in der Hose. Gestartet mit schlaffen 10cm konnte er jetzt schon knapp 13cm vorweisen. Zusammen mit größerem Umfang und größeren Eiern. Und so wie Jan grinste, gefiel es ihm. Sport an sich war unspektakulär und nur das Duschen wurde durch ein paar Sprüche interessant und den ein oder anderen, der seinen Harten verstecken musste, als Jan und ich zusammen mit schwingedem Gehänge in die Kabinen kamen. Donnerstag Ich bekam relativ früh eine Whatsapp von Jan in der er um ein Gespräch vor der Schule bat. Sein Dad.... Als Jan auf mich zukam musste ich schon schlucken. Ja, ich sah in jeden Tag, aber als dieses 100kg Fußballer-Muskelpaket auf mich zukam, wurde mir ganz anders. Ich wurde augenblicklich hart, konnte es aber ganz gut verstecken, da ich auch merkte, dass Jan niedergeschlagen wirkte. Das Shirt, das er anhatte, war bereits eines von meinen und wirkte (noch) recht gut passend. Die Hose machte keinen Hehl daraus, dass sie nach diesem Tag in die Tonne konnte. Die Oberschenkel versuchten alles um den Stoff zu sprengen und die Beule in seiner Hose war so prominent, dass ich mich fragte, ob das nicht weh tat. Als mein „Kleiner“ dann bei mir stand erzählte er mir sofort, dass sein Dad heute morgen schon einen Ausraster bekommen hatte. Er beschuldigte ihn Steroide zu nehmen, Drogen und was weiß ich nicht noch alles. Er hatte wütend sein Zimmer durchsucht und ihm eine sehr lange Standpauke gehalten, dass solche Muskel-Freaks sich ihr Leben nur kaputt machen und noch andere, erfundenen und fadenscheinige Gründe. Wir unterhielten uns noch eine ganze Weile vor der Schule und verblieben dann so, dass er Freitag nach der Schule mit zu mir kommt und zumindest Freitag auf Samstag bei mir übernachtet. Dann konnte er mal auf andere Gedanken kommen. Meine Eltern hatten nichts dagegen und ich hoffte, dass ich sie noch aus dem Haus bekam. Ich brauchte Sex.... Freitag Ich bekam erneut eine Whatsapp mit einem einzigen Inhalt: „110kg.“ Jan hatte sogar 3kg mehr zugenommen als berechnet. Aber er hatte auch Training die Woche, am Sonntag ein Spiel und Alter... er war fast nur noch am Essen. In der Schule lief soweit alles gut und auch der väterliche Zwischenfall von gestern war vergessen. Meine Eltern freuten sich, dass sie einen Schulkameraden von mir kennenlernten. (Früher hatte ich nie jemanden mit nach Hause gebracht und daran konnte sich meine Mutter wohl noch erinnern.) Ich meinte, dass wir ein bisschen Playstation spielen wollten und mit anderen Joysticks... Ich wartete nach der 7. Stunde an der Treppe auf Jan und konnte nur in der Entfernung seine Stimme hören, die relativ laut und ungehalten war. Die Neugier siegte und ich ging dem nach. Versteckt (sofern das für 150kg Muskeln möglich war) belauschte ich ein Gespräch zwischen ihm und Sven. „Alter. Du platz noch bald. Mach mal ein bisschen langsam. Oder willst du so ein Freak werden wie Dori?“ „Sein Name ist David und was kümmert es dich?“ „Ergreifst du jetzt etwas Partei für das Steroid-Monster?“ „SVEN! Sei nicht so ein kompletter Arsch. Ok? Es gibt halt Leute, die stehen auf Muskeln.“ „Ja... die lecken auch Schwänze.“ „...“ „Alter... Sag jetzt bitte nicht, dass du den Schwanz von dem im Mund hattest.“ „Fick dich, Sven. Ich dachte echt, wir wären Freunde.“ „Das waren wir, bevor du wie ein Hefekloß aufgegangen bist und dich entschieden hast 'ne Schwuchtel zu werden.“ Dann hörte ich nur, wie jemand auf den Boden fiel. „JAN! Was fällt dir ein! Spinnst du!“ „Halt dich einfach von mir fern, Arschloch.“ Dann stampfte Jan wütend weg und ich versuchte schnell wieder auf meine ursprüngliche Position zu kommen. Als Jan kam und das Gesicht hass-verzerrt war, wollte ich schon ansetzten etwas zu sagen, aber der Fußballer meinte nur: „Du hast doch alles gesehen. Was hättest du getan?“ - „Ich... ehm... also... ich....“ Jan rollte mit den Augen und meinte: „Alter.... du bist ein fucking Bodybuilder. Denkst du echt, so ein Gebüsch kann dich verstecken. Sei froh, dass Sven mit dem Rücken zu dir war.“ Ich holte tief Luft und wechselte sofort das Thema. „Wollen wir uns einen Döner holen?“ Jan nickte nur und wir liefen schweigend in die Innenstadt. Es wurden zwei Döner für jeden und als wir auf den bedrohlich knackenden Plastikstühlen saßen seufzte Jan deutlich und fragte: „Wie war das bei dir? Waren deine Eltern auch so kacke und dein bester Freund ein Arsch?“ Ich lächelte und meinte: „Meine Eltern fanden es auch nicht so gut. Aber... du hast einen guten Freund an deiner Seite. Sven wird sich wieder beruhigen. Und im Notfall schicke ich ihm auch den Link.“ Ich zwinkerte und auch Jan konnte leicht lächeln. Wir gingen dann nach Hause und bereiteten uns auf einen Spiele-Nachmittag vor....

Thanks a lot Mr. CJ Excellent as always. Probably we need a lil bit longer muscle worship session. F*ck yeah haha... Thanks once again.

Next chapter and here's the second illustration my mate "Reeddune" did for me. Feels fitting to include it in this chapter given what AJ is wearing! ? Twenty Five I groaned into AJ’s mouth as his tongue danced with mine and my hand slipped down and gripped on to one of his huge upper arms. Fuck! I was pinned up against his bedroom door. We’d barely been able to keep our hands off each other since we’d entered his house. “FUCK!” I cried as AJ cheekily flexed his arm and the freakish ball of marble-like bicep muscle exploded under my fingertips. Freshly pumped from the gym, it felt even bigger and harder than the last time. I probably could have exploded in my undies right there and then. If AJ hadn’t already confessed how much he loved the effect his flexed muscle had on me, I would known in that moment, anyway, by the smug, excitable look on his face. AJ was clearly getting a huge kick out of how much feeling his flexed bicep wowed and turned on me. “Go to the bathroom for two minutes!” he ordered, with a devilish grin. I gave him a confused but excited grin. “Whyyyy?” I asked suspiciously. “Just do it!!” he cheekily demanded. I kissed him and obeyed his order, highly suspecting that I was going to walk back into the room to find AJ in nothing but his shiny lime green posing trunks (FUCK). I was a little gutted when I returned to find him still wearing his trackies and a vest. I looked around the room and narrowed my eyes. “What was all that about?” He playfully shrugged, wrapped his arms around my back, pushed his huge, pumped, muscle tits into my regular sized chest and kissed me passionately. How could one man turn me on, arouse me and excite me to such a degree that AJ did? Whenever I touched him. Whenever I kissed him. I felt like I was constantly on the verge of exploding with ecstasy. We’d soon switched places, and it was AJ who was up against the door. His vest had come off, most of my own clothes had been removed, and I was bending down so I was faced with his huge, hard dick, sticking out and bulging through his gym trackies. Fuck! I wanted to worship that dick with my tongue. I wanted to make him blow. Harder, faster and more intensely than he’d ever done before. I wanted to make his toe curls. His eyes roll back. His whole body quiver and burst as he exploded in my mouth. I grabbed the waistband of his trackies and gently pulled them down. Instead of being faced with the material of whatever colour boxer shorts AJ had been wearing that day, I was faced with something which made my heart skip a beat; the bright and inexplicably shiny material of AJ Jones’ lime green posing trunks. FUCKING HELL!! I looked up at AJ, wide eyed and excited. His gorgeous, bumpy ab blocks, huge, hanging tits and a smug but oh-so-gorgeous grin staring down at me. As I’d suspected, AJ had banished me to the bathroom so he could take off his underwear and put his posers on. Hiding them under his clothes to surprise me was something I definitely hadn’t predicted him to do. The trunks were so much shinier than I anticipated they would be. Without a doubt, they were the horniest clothing garment I’d ever come into contact with. Much hotter than the leather jeans Andy had been squeezing his big, meaty arse into. I squeezed AJ’s hard on, which was tenting the obscenely shiny posing trunk material and he groaned. I gently took it out of it’s lime green poser wrapper and there it was; the most gorgeous cock I’d ever seen, juddering and sticking out from the ridiculously muscular body of the most beautiful boy I’d ever been with. AJ gave the hottest little groan and sank his fingers into my hair as I put the head of his thick, hard cock in my mouth. As I danced my wet tongue around the rim, I looked up to see AJ in some sort of state of euphoria. It was the sexiest image. Seeing a bodybuilder in posing trunks, freshly pumped from the gym in a state of arousal because of me. I wanted to spend the whole night worshipping AJ and his cock. To make him cum over and over again. I felt him pull back and I looked up to see him still aroused and in a state of bliss, but gently shaking his head as he giddily smirked at me. I knew what it meant; that he was dangerously close to cumming but didn’t want to do so just yet. “Sit on the edge of the bed!” AJ gently ordered. I obeyed, and he followed me. Kneeling down on the floor, he helped me get my trackies and boxers off and began to suck and play with my fully erect cock as I ruffled his hair. I could tell by AJ’s face that he really loved sucking me off. He always made these hot groaning noises too as he did. It was like he couldn’t get enough of it. It was so obscenely fucking sexy. “GRRRRR!” he growled, giving my hard, wet cock a firm squeeze. While I was still perched on the edge of his bed naked, AJ stood up, his expression an insanely hot mixture of determination and arousal. He then adjusted his trunks so that his cock was nestled back in the shiny, lime green pouch of his posers. Oh God, I thought. This is it. He’s gonna fucking do it! He’s actually gonna pose for me! And then he did. The very thing he’d been teasing me about the last few days since I’d confessed how much bodybuilders turned me on. AJ, the posing trunk wearing bodybuilder who I’d not long been kissing, lifted both of his arms up either side of his head and, twisting his gaze from side to side to get a good look at both of his arms, cranked down into a front double bicep. He released an obscenely hot grunt as he did so and his face suddenly contorted into an arrogant and obscenely hot grimace. It was the horniest and most surreal image. A proper bodybuilder flexing just for me! FUUUUCKKK!! AJ looked from his flexed biceps to me, his mouth curling into this sexy, smug little smirk, as I watched on in sheer awe and excitement. He relaxed from the pose, a cheeky, excitable grin on his face. AJ was clearly loving putting on a show for me and showing off his muscle. He then curled his fingers around both of the straps of his shiny green posing trunks, and with his lips pursed, he blasted out a front lat spread pose. “OOOOH!” he outrageously grunted as the lime green straps hoisted up and AJ’s tits jumped and twitched. “FUCK!” I exclaimed, in response. I couldn’t help it. A cocky grin emerged on AJ’s face as he continued to hold the pose and look down at me. He then made the most outrageously cocky move; he cheekily exclaimed, “YEAH!” and animatedly nodded his head. He looked like a man possessed as he played the part of a cocky, flexing bodybuilder. As he twisted to one side and transitioned into a side chest pose, AJ let out the hottest and most inexplicably hot grunt. “EURGH!!” Fuck! I couldn’t hold back any longer. Watching AJ pose in front of me while displaying the cockiest and most animated attitude was such an insane turn on, that I reached for my throbbing hard on and began to wank off. AJ’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement as I did so. “Fuck!” he ushered, at what was suddenly unfolding. AJ spun around and cranked his arms down into a back double bicep with a loud grizzly, grunt, which sounded a bit like, “HRRYEEAHH!” Fucking HELL! I loved how much he was getting into it. It made the whole thing just so much hotter. My eyes were transfixed on one thing only; the big, round gorgeous cheeks which made up AJ’s obscenely beefy arse, spilling out of the shiny, lime green material of his posers. I wanted to do so many things to that insanely hot arse. If AJ would let me. “OOOOOH!” AJ exclaimed as he opened up his back in a back lat spread pose, making it look wider than it ever had. He spun back around to face me, still wearing that excitable and cheeky grin. AJ then stepped closer to me, reached for my left free hand and, with an excited smirk, placed it flat over his stomach. His skin was soft and slightly sticky. I could feel the bumps of muscle underneath, and the ridges which separated them. He then threw both of his arms behind the back of his head and I knew exactly what was coming next. His face transformed into the most outrageously cocky grimace. “HSSSSS!!” AJ cranked down into an abs and thighs pose. His gorgeous, block-like tummy muscles crunched and exploded underneath my hand. I was feeling and touching the hard, flexed abs of a real life bodybuilder. “FUCK!” I cried in response, continuing to wank off. I was so close to cumming. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold it in any longer. AJ bought his arms back down and, clamping his fists together, cranked down into a most muscular pose with a short, sharp, grizzly growl. His biceps popping, his shoulders looking bigger and rounder than ever and his whole upper body exploding with incredible mass. “Oh God! I’m close!” I cried, as I continued to plunge up and down on my throbbing cock. “Fuck!” AJ exclaimed, excitedly. He reached for my hand again and placed it over one of his upper arms, my fingers gripping the huge, solid, un-flexed muscle. He lifted both of his arms up and then cranked back down into a crab most muscular and I felt his warm, hard, marble-like bicep erupt and explode in my hand. “ARGGHHHH!!” he shouted loudly in my ear as he hit the pose. It was all too much. The attitude. The noise. The exploding bicep underneath my grip. “OH GOD! OH FUCK! ARRRGGGHH!!” Still squeezing AJ’s huge arm with my other hand, I screamed as my cock exploded and thick ropes of cum erupted from the head. I couldn’t stop groaning. I just kept cumming and cumming. The orgasm didn’t seem to stop. “FUCK!!” AJ exclaimed excitedly, while also releasing a few chuckles, when I’d finally stopped. “Oh God!” I panted. I was a mess. A sweaty, heaving, cum soaked mess on a post orgasmic high. I started laughing too and buried my head into AJ’s abs as he placed his hands around my back. I looked up at him. He was beaming down at me. I could tell he was still on a high from having someone cum over his flexing muscles. “Fuck!” he said, shaking his head. “That was so hot!!” I melted and grinned back at him. And then something else stole my attention. AJ was tenting his lime green posers. I grabbed the straps and pulled them down. Now it was AJ’s turn to blow his load. He groaned loudly as I swallowed his cock. I don’t really know what came over me in that moment. Just as AJ had turned into an animal when he’d been stood over me hitting pose after pose and flexing his muscles with attitude, I’d turned into some kind of horn crazed beast, determined to make the beautiful bodybuilder before me cum as hard and fast as possible. It didn’t take AJ long to give me exactly what I wanted. “I’m gonna cum!! Noah! OH GOD! ARGGHHHH!! AHHHHHHH!!” AJ shouted as he exploded in my mouth. I loved how he called out my name just before he came. Just as he’d done the first time. “That was one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had!” AJ exclaimed, once he’d collapsed on the bed next to me and wrapped me up in a cuddle. “FUCK!” he added, like he couldn’t quite believe how good it was. AJ’s huge chest was heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. I giggled as I gripped his waist and tangled my ordinary sized legs with his thick thighs. “So … how was the posing?” he asked. “Hmmm!” I said, in a jokey, unenthusiastic manner. “It was okay, I guess!” I said, playfully shrugging. I looked at AJ and gave him a knowing grin and he squeezed me tight and grinned back. “I think you could do with a bit of practice, though!” I added. His eyes playfully widened. “Oh, really?!” “Mmmm. You could be a lot cockier for a start. And a lot noisier!” “Okay, I actually don’t know whether you’re still joking now!” AJ said, grinning, I squeezed his waist and gave him a reassuring grin. “I fucking LOVED it!” His mouth curled into an adorable, dreamy grin. “I kinda got that impression! I loved it too, by the way. And seeing your reaction. FUCK!” “Yeah?” I asked, biting my lip. “Mmmm. Seeing you crazy over my muscles! GRRRRR! Just makes me wanna get bigger. And more shredded!” FUUUUUCK!! “I would one hundred per cent support that!” I said. AJ giggled. “You know you could have just asked to feel my biceps weeks ago? I would have let you!” I pulled a face. “As if I would have had the NERVE to do that!” “Well, that guy in the toilets of the pub did!” That guy in the toilets isn’t falling in love with you, I thought. “Don’t feel like you have to stay yes, but … how would you feel about staying over tonight?” AJ asked me. Fuck! My heart expanded in my chest. “Isn’t your mum coming back later?” I asked. AJ shrugged. “Yeah! She won’t think anything of it, though. She’ll probably ask us if we’re having a sleepover!” he said, rolling his eyes. I laughed. I could just imagine AJ’s mum saying that to us. “I’d love to!” I said, looking at AJ lovingly. He dreamily smiled at me and gave me a squeeze. “Mmmmm! Will be nice to wake up with you! My mum and Andy go to work really early too. And I get pretty horny in the morning!” I raised one eyebrow and grinned at him. “Oh, by the way. I haven’t said this to you yet, but you have a really hot arse!” I said. AJ’s eyes widened in surprise and he chuckled. “It’s been said before!” he said cheekily. “Yours is cute too, by the way!” For some reason, his statement really surprised me. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Have you been checking out my arse?!” I asked playfully, thinking about that very first time we’d been reunited in Tesco when I’d been doing that very thing with AJ. He mischievously grinned. “A couple of times! It looks especially good in your gym trackies! It’s really cute and pert!” Then he reached his hand around and gave one of my arse cheeks a gentle squeeze and my body tingled. “Well, yours is … FUCK! For a start, it’s HUGE!” I said. AJ beamed at me in response. “And also looks good in your gym trackies. And your work trousers. And your shorts. And your painted on jeans. And your shiny, lime green posers! And … OK, it pretty much looks hot in EVERYTHING!” AJ laughed. “Mmmmm!” he said, squeezing me. “Do you think we could just stay in bed for the rest of the week? Fuck Tesco’s. Fuck the Leisure Centre. Fuck Scorpio’s. Actually, maybe not Scorpio’s. I’d lose all my muscle. And then I wouldn’t be a bodybuilder!” I didn’t really think about what I said next. If I had, I may not have said it. “I’d still like you just as much!” I told him. And I very much believed that I would. As soon as I’d said it I felt sheepish. AJ furrowed his eyebrows slightly, like he wasn’t really sure whether to believe me, but the corner of his mouth curled into this cute little grin, and neither of us said anything more about it. AJ had been right about his mum. She’d been fine with me sleeping over. Being in AJ’s bed with the lights off, cuddling up to him under the duvet while my legs wrapped around his and he held me in his arms, being completely engulfed by his mass and his incredible scent, I couldn’t remember a time when I’d fallen asleep feeling happier or more content. But when I woke up at around five am the next morning, still in AJ’s bed but untangled from him, everything silent and still, I suddenly felt this crushing anxiety. Because I knew that whatever was happening in that moment with me and AJ wouldn’t last. That there were only so many weeks left of the summer, and then I would be going back to university, where I wouldn’t get to see AJ every day. And then, lying awake, staring at AJ’s back as he slept next to me, my thoughts started spiralling, and I couldn’t seem to stop them. I wondered whether me and AJ could make it work once I’d gone back to London. Maybe I could come back every weekend, or AJ could come down and visit me, when he could get the time off work, obviously. But would it be the same as what we had now? And would AJ even want to try and make it work? And even if he did, what would happen in a years time when I’d graduated? I’d been certain of what I wanted to do when that time came for so long. I was adamant that I wanted to get a job in publishing. That was why I was doing an English Literature degree. That was why I’d applied to do a number of work experience placements at publishing houses at the beginning of the summer, none of which I’d heard back from. And almost all of those jobs were in London. Being anywhere else, moving back to Little Denton, it had never been an option. But where would that leave me and AJ? Should I give it all in to be close to him? Could I persuade him to move to London? Would he even want to? He had his life here in Little Denton. His jobs. Scorpio’s. And all of his friends and family were here. It wasn’t like I could just really ask him, either. Just a few weeks earlier he’d been terrified to even admit that he had feelings for me. And even now we were sort of together, he wouldn’t let me tell anyone. Not even my best friend. Asking him if he’d maybe move half way across the country just to be with me would probably guarantee that he’d run for the hills and never want to see me again. I wanted so much in that moment to stop time. Or somehow make it so the summer just repeated on a loop, over and over again. I wanted to be twenty years old forever, lying next to the boy who made my heart want to burst and my head want to explode. The sweetest, most wonderful boy, who excited, aroused and turned me on more than anyone I’d ever met. I finally managed to drift off back to sleep. When I woke up a few hours later, AJ’s arm was tightly wrapped around me, his scent more powerful than ever, those early morning anxieties had faded and all of those questions were now buried somewhere deep at the back of my head. I didn’t know what was going to happen, or what would become of us, but there was one thing in that moment that I knew for sure. That I’d fallen in love with AJ Jones.

So, I was talking with my friend the other day. She is a very direct girl, who doesn’t hold any secrets - perfectly blunt, in every way - and she is like that when she approaches men. She can afford to be because she is 26 years old, average height for a girl, intelligent, funny and hot - the full package. I will not name her here. One day, at a gym that she frequents with her boyfriend, with whom she is in an open relationship, she decides to approach this incredibly handsome guy, who also is a devoted gym-goer. He too seemed oh-so-very much like a good deal. Young, witty, but also very tall (198 cm, or 6'6 in retard units) and, clearly, quite strong. Through her telling, my friend recalled the ease with which he did pull-ups. This is his Instagram pic, I was told. At some point my friend started up conversations with the guy, whose name is Philip, she tells me, and through the weeks of getting together at the gym and through Facebook comments, she saw that she has a lot in common with Philip, especially when it comes to their preferences for genres in movies and books. She also noticed that he is into her. One day, they decide to get together after the gym. With my friend there is no beating around the bush. They went straight to his place - no dates, no romantic walks. She had already learned his humor, likes and dislikes. She wanted to know his primal side now. What is he like when passion takes hold of him? She got more than she bargained for. “Can you imagine what he must’ve looked like after the gym that evening? All that testosterone brimming inside him…” my friend recalled. She remembered him being larger than ever before due to the pump he was having. Veins were jumping out of him. Probably looked like this other pic from his Insta account. When they got into his bedroom, my friend couldn’t help but marvel at how the entire place was well organised and tidy. The bedroom was spacious, so he had set up a pull-up bar and a heavy-looking punching bag. There were also quite a number of large mirrors, which made the room appear bigger than it actually is. Another set of mirrors was near the bed - one on the wall on the side of it, and the other stuck to the sealing above the bed. By the time they got to the bed, their clothes were shed. This is, by the way, where she finally got a good look at his beautifully shaped ass. At first, he was being very gentle with her as they were starting foreplay and kissing. However, at some point, my friend said that she started to goad him, so that he would become more rough with her. I think she likes it that way. After a slap here, a wicked laugh there, he grew increasingly - and visibly - annoyed… He wasn’t amused at all. He grabbed her by her arms and forcefully picked her up with great ease, as if to correct her behaviour. Then, he laid her back onto the bed with some frustration. She described his face as barely containing anger and remembers his loud breathing. He got up, nude, with every muscle and every vein visible on his large tight body, and he walked furiously across the room in circles. The muscle mass on him, combined with his imposing height, makes him weigh at around 115 kilos - nearly twice her weight. His steps were booming. He then took a sturdy metal chair from a corner of the room and placed it in front of the bed. Still annoyed, he said to her “come here.” She could tell from his tone that he was in no mood for hesitation, so she got up from the bed and walked up to the chair. He impatiently turned her away from himself and picked her up off the floor onto the seat, so that her behind would face him. It looked to her that this was his version of foreplay, so she was still looking forward to what may come out of this all. He entered her vagina with his decent-sized dick and thrusted strong enough that her knees were no longer touching the chair, which was there to support them in the first place. It felt good, albeit a little violent. While she was moaning, she looked up into the mirror by the bed and saw that Philip was focused solely onto himself in the reflection. She said that she thought at the time “Fuck, I’d be looking at myself if I were as gorgeous as him”. He was staring into his own eyes and into the glistening muscles of his own large and powerful body while practically holding her 60 kilos constantly in the air. He was going like that for several minutes. When he finally turned his focus to the girl he was thrusting, she felt that he was getting a bit flaccid. Not too much, for he was still a clear presence inside of her. Philip leaned over her back and stretched his arm down, next to her head. He was again gazing at their reflection in the mirror, but now he had a renewed hardness to his dick. My friend said that she was enjoying the feel of his strength imposed on her, and said that it was even more than she had hoped for. He certainly knew how to move down there, not just simple thrusts. She was genuinely enjoying it, but she was still able to see that Philip was actually focusing now on the monstrous size of his own arm when put next to her significantly smaller body. He flexed it so that the peak of his bicep would be right next to her head. She remembered how she rubbed her head against his bicep and feeling that rock-like hardness. Then, she told me, something unexpected happened. He got out of her, then proceeded to put her back on the bed. He placed the chair on the bed too, so that it was above her head. Now he was above her, and she was facing him, and their sex organs reunited. He was straddling her like a mighty lion, and he appeared inhumanly large above her. All she could see were his stone-hard abs and huge pecs as they were thrusting up and down, along with her entire body. Here comes the weird part. He looks down into her eyes. She was feeling a mixture of ecstasy and fear in that moment. He was insanely hot, even in this moment of bestial mindlessness, yet everything that was going on escaped even her wildest fantasies, and I can tell you, my friend has some wild imagination. It was in that moment when he grabbed ahold of the chair and, while looking into my friend’s eyes, proceeded to crush it! It was here that fear completely took over in my friend’s mind. Crushing that chair is no small feat. According to my friend, it had a steel frame with elements of hard wood and was quite heavy and solid. Philip squeezed it with his powerful hands while relentlessly looking into my friend’s eyes. Soon, the chair’s frame gave way to his pressure and started to grind and crack loudly. By this point my friend was petrified with terror at what she was seeing. Philip was practically turning from a prince into a savage monster before her very eyes. He groaned with his deep and booming voice as he was distorting and destroying the chair. He was looking with his cold unyielding eyes deep into her while he was doing it. He pinned the frame of the chair next to the girl’s petrified naked body and ripped the bars towards himself. She could do nothing but watch silently this monstrous display of power because she was helpless. The strength that was needed to pull and rip the steel outward was bordering inhuman. Looking at those dark, cruel eyes of his, she was actually afraid… that he was going to switch the chair with her at some point. Philip got off of her and violently launched the remains of what used to be a chair onto the wall, shattering it into bits that scattered on the floor. His wrath wasn’t subsiding, though. He then furiously launched hits at his punching bag. The whole building was shaking at the shockwaves that his punching produced. His precise movement and enormous strength with which he was hitting made it evident that had the bag been human, there would be no more life left in it. During this unbelievably intense moment, my friend’s wits came back to her, and she thought of a way to prevent things from escalating. She got off the bed to her feet and silently said his name in a calm manner. “Philip?”, in response to which he stopped his punching and looked at her. His chest was heaving from deep breaths, and his pumped up muscles were covered with sweat. She approached him carefully, barely containing her shivering, knowing full well that he might lunge at her. This time, however, she had gotten to know him a bit. She took his large hand and brought him to one of the mirrors. The blood was coming back to his cock at the sight of his own reflection. In that moment, he was a personification of power - a god of strength and beauty. Every muscle fiber was bursting on him. He was enormous, bigger than life. He wanted to turn around towards her, but she stopped him from doing that, lest he get some new ideas. She stood behind him so that his frame would completely eclipse her from the mirror. Only her hands were visible because she was caressing his muscles gently. He realised that it felt good that his god-like body is finally receiving some worshiping. His dick was insanely hard now. He looked at himself as the petit female hands were passing over the massive landscape of his sculpted V-shaped torso. He flexed his arms and allowed my friend to feel the enormity of power emanating from his hard lats, triceps, and biceps. He knew that nothing could stop him in this moment if he went on a rampage, but getting some love and appreciation for the body he had painstakingly built over the years felt much more rewarding. He could no longer contain himself. His breathing and his twitching stiff cock became a signal of the fact that he could no longer fight his sexual urges. My friend realised that, so she jerked him off. When he laid down on the bed, she gladly sucked him because she was relieved. He came in a torrent of sperm. My friend told me about this with clear fear and disbelief at the events she was describing, but I, for whatever reason, felt like it was the sexiest thing I had ever heard. She says that they are still friends, and I still see his comments on her posts, but she said that that day’s experience is something she is not eager to repeat… I barely contained my breathing as she was describing all of this to me. What did you feel? This is based on true events that happened more than half a year ago. Here is another picture of “Philip”. I hear that he finally understood what a beauty he is, so now he took to modelling.

Sexy, well written chapter, but you had me so broken up by the end. Noah really does love AJ, but thinking about the future may prevent him from fully enjoying the time they have together. You never even know what the future will really hold anyways!

Another excellent chapter!

Fantastic chapter Mate from the beginning to the end. I really liked the Muscle Worshiping part of it, it was so special because they are really connected in a emotional and physical level. If I was Noah, I would keep the lime green posers and just give it back to AJ for private posings. ? Of course, you ended in a huge cliffhanger: Noah dreading to go back to Uni and him admitting that he fell in love with AJ. Mate, such a thrill read your story. Keep the good work mate and when you’re ready or have the time, fell free to post another chapter. ?????

Great story... but seriously?

Forced to be bro Coach pushed the button again. Josh's fear didn't fade away. If anything, it increased. But it was now increasingly mixed with something else. A, now familiar, fourth warm wave of heaviness, and yet lightness, spread through his body in a pleasant way, and he became aware of his body in a new way. Heaviness. And yet lightness. He was soaked in the ugly-smelling cold-sweat he had exuded, when he struggled and resisted Coach. It had been to no avail. Coach was bigger than Josh, the sort of man Josh had aspired to become. Now, he found himself strapped to a chair in the locker room, an IV needle inserted in his arm and weird electrode-looking stuff fastened to all his major muscles, and temples even. Coach had probably gone insane, and Josh feared for his life. God knows what unsafe substance Coach allowed to enter Josh's body? And the electronic equipment? Weird ideas by a weird man. Coach pushed the button again. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. The terrified incoherent chatter in Josh's mind ran in all directions. He felt dizzy, nauseous. His compression shirt clung to his waist, chest and shoulders in a sticky way. His feet felt heavy inside his trainers, and he could sense the scent of his athletic socks, as they clung to his calves: The honest sweat after a workout, reeking in the locker room. Male sweat. The testimony, that he had done his best, and performed well. Coach pushed the button again. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. In a pleasant way. It had happened after the others had already left. Josh had been delayed – on purpose, as he now realised. He knew, that Coach wanted to increase his (and the other members') performance, and some sorts of supplements (not all of them entirely legal) had been part of the routine for some time, now. But this sort of drip-plus-electrodes was something unknown and entirely new, and Josh felt rigid by fear. Side-effects? Consequences? Forced to undergo whatever Coach wanted him to undergo. Coach pushed the button again. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. In a pleasant way. It actually felt rather good. One part of him began to relax. The excitement of another part of him had just begun to increase. He felt so present. Bodily present. In the chair. His arms resting in the armchair. His bum at the seat. Thinking of that, his glutes felt warm, too. Hot and sore, like after a leg workout. Legs. Thinking of that, his quads and hamstrings felt hot and sore, too. Like some pump going on. Which was actually a nice feeling. Coach pushed the button again. Warm. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. In a pleasant way. Relaxed and excited at the same time. Bodily present and resting. All his muscles felt hot, sore and firm. Like after a workout. His socks clung to his calves. Calves felt like concrete blocks now. He was unable to lift his legs. He felt so relaxed, so he couldn't move his back. Hot, sore and firm back. His compression shirt expanded, tight around his widening back, expanding chest and bulging shoulders. The expanse of his back, chest and shoulders defined and limited by the compression shirt – a definition and limit now changing. Moving. Expanding. Redefining former definitions and limits. Hot, sore and firm chest. Hot, sore and firm shoulders: All three parts of his shoulders. Rear, middle and front. Bulging. Bulbous. Hot and sore. Felt good. Coach pushed the button again. Warm. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Body. Spread. In a pleasant way. Yes, it literally felt good. Why bother? Why worried before? Felt pumped. Felt growing. Felt like a real bruiser taking his medicine. Wow. Bigger than coach now. Biggest. Not so sore any longer. Better. Felt better. Hot and firm body. No: Hot and hard body. So good. Shoulders and traps. Growing in all direction. So good. Huge. Ravine forming between his pecs. Oh, fuck, yes, deeper! Deeper! Continuing between abs. Pain. Good pain. Harder. Harder abs. Narrow waist. Heat in quads. Expanding. Heat in hamstrings. Expanding. Heat. Burning heat in calves. Socks expanding around his calves. Shorts felt uncomfortable. Mostly uncomfortable. One aspect of his shorts felt comfortable: His meat inside the jockstrap. Throbbing inside the jockstrap. Throbbing against his shorts. Big legs. Oh, fuck, his arms, too! HIS ARMS! Coach pushed the button again. Warm. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Awareness of. Body. Spread. In a pleasant way. He shuddered in the chair now. Shuddered by the power that flowed into him, shuddered by growth, shuddered by the FEELING of it. Fuck yeah! Look at this! Thug brawn! Real bro! Jock power! Not sore. Heat. Heavy and light. And power. This strength. So good. Condition! Changing limits. Expanding all over! Real ace, innit. Wait until I show up at home and show Olivia THIS. And the throbbing python. Impress her. This bro. With bro muscle. No, more: Muscle-god. Felt awesome. Becoming more. Becoming... Oh, fuck, so AWESOME! Like he was built of bowling balls, footballs. Medicine balls. Melons. GRANITE GLOBES! Fuck, look at this! Look at me! LOOK AT ME! Coach pushed the button again. Heat. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Awareness of. Power. Body. Spread. In a pleasant way. His body spasmed and convulsed in a sweet way now: Yeah, real sweet, innit. How would he be able to think about numbers, figures, stats now? They didn't matter. BIG was what mattered. BIG. BIGGER. HUGE. Steel-hard. More! Yes! More! The heat. The pleasure. The growth. Muscle-god heat. Muscle-god pleasure. Muscle-god growth. It didn't matter, that Coach had a hard-on in his tracksuit bottoms. Look at me, you insignificant shit! Look at this muscle mass! Tremble before me, you bloody wanker! Tremble before this MASS MONSTER! So good. His shorts ripping apart. Unable to resist his ENGORGED quads and POWER hamstrings, letting the throbbing jock out. I'm AWESOME! All body throbbing now. Throbbing of power. Throbbing of growth. Muscle-god power. Muscle-god growth. Wow. The compression shirt. Couldn't take it anymore. Not with THIS back and chest inside! Exploding out of my clothes! Unable to contain me! No limits! UNLIMITED GROWTH! Expanding. HARD! HARDER! INVINCIBLE! These traps! This bull-neck! Love it! The scent. My bro sweat. My jock sweat. My muscle-god sweat. Fuck, yeah, inhale my ultra-testo, fukking tosser. The URGE! More! Need more! Must have more muscle mass! The definition! Unbelievable! These veins! Pump beyond pump. Even better! Bulging all over. Muscle ecstacy! UNLIMITED STRENGTH! Ripping these weak straps apart. Don't stare, dweeb. I will remain in this chair. I will sit on this THRONE OF GAINZ and ABSORB all ultra-gear and all POWER juice you can cram into me. His instincts told him to flex. He flexed. It felt good. Coach looked scared now. It felt good, too. Obey me! NEED MORE!!! Coach pushed the button again. Heat. Wave. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Awareness of. Power. Body. Muscle. Power. Spread. Pleasure. The being, that had been Josh, was now unable to think coherently, even less speak coherently. As it rapidly indurated and spread in all directions it moaned and groaned. Grunted. Roared. Bellowed. It had the power inside it. It embodied power. It was power. It was strength. It was masculinity. It was brawn. It was mass. It grew, gained, bulged and expanded. Its roars and bellows intensified. The scent of sweat and pre-cum was very intense in the locker room, now. Coach pushed the button again. Heat. Wave. Growth. Gainz. Heaviness. And yet lightness. Awareness of. Power. Bulging. Body. Engorged. Muscle. Coach pushed the button again. Power. Spread. Pleasure. Coach pushed the button again. Coach pushed the button again. Power. Oh, fukk, look at me Coach! Pleasure. Power. Uhnnnnn. Pleasure. Uhnnnnnn. Power. Fuck, yes, MORE! Pleasure. Fukk, can't belive... Innit? So... Power. Pleasure. Power. Pleasure. Power. Pleasure. Power. Pleasure. Power! Pleasure! Power!!! Pleasure!!! Power!!!!! Pleasure!!!!! POWER!!!!!!! PLEASURE!!!!!!! POW... Oh, fukk!!!!! Uhh! PLEASURE!!!!!!!! PLEASURE!!!!!!!! PLEASURE!!!!!!!! PLEASU ... Coach pushed the button again.

Hi guys, I've been lurking here for a while, and this seems like a really cool community. I was inspired to attempt writing a muscle-growth fetish story. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think. I don't know how much time I will have to write, so unfortunately I can't say when part 2 will be ready. *** Part 1 *** John sighed as he looked himself up and down in the mirror. He was sick of how plain he looked. 5’9”, skinny arms, slight belly, no muscle definition. Maybe 170lbs. He felt painfully average. He looked at the campus gym flier on his desk. There was a picture of a smiling, ripped athlete on the cover. Thick corded arms poking out of a bulging, campus-branded tank top. John had made a couple of aborted efforts in the gym in the past. Would this time be any different? With a sigh, John sat down and dialled the number on the flier. What did he have to lose? *** “Coach, you gotta agree. I am outgrowing this team.” Coach raised an eyebrow. “You're telling me you want to make varsity next semester?” “Hell yeah, Coach!” Coach had to admit that Jordan had improved a lot since he'd joined. The brawny teenager had the right build for a linebacker, but when he joined all he could do was throw his weight around. Maybe that worked in high school, but not so much at the collegiate level. Still, he trained hard and learned quickly. Coach had to admit he had talent. “Ok, kid. I’ll consider it. But you know, you’ll have to take your training to the next level. No more of this crap on the weekends.” “Shit, coach. What are you saying?” “Watch your language, kid. I’m saying you’ve put on 30 lbs so far this year, but how much of that was liquid calories?” “No way, Coach. That’s not fair. You know your varsity team drinks like fish.” “Yeah, but they know how to keep the weight off. Look, kid, I can make you a deal. If you can lose 15 lbs before the start of next semester without your strength going to crap, I’ll put a word in for you.” “Oh man, Coach! Thanks! I won’t let you down!” Truthfully, Jordan had never spent a lot of time improving his diet. But he had friends who had cut before. He was 220 lbs and 6’2”, it couldn’t be too hard to lose 15 lbs. *** John wasn’t totally new to the gym, so induction was pretty simple. He had a free trainer session to get him started. His trainer looked like a strongman, exactly the kind of build John dreamed of having. “Do you have a goal, man? Just trying to get fit?” John was distracted by the hairy, brawny forearms of his instructor. “Um, I wanna be less scrawny, I guess.” “A grower eh? Ha, I’ll give you the same program we give the football team. You need a nutrition plan?” “Uh, sure. Honestly, I don’t really know what I’m doing with my diet.” “Hey, don’t sweat it. We all start from somewhere. It’s $17 for a meal plan if you want.” Screw it. “OK, sure, that sounds good.” “Sweet! Ok, let’s go into my office and talk nutrition and programming...” *** The first two weeks of the cut went amazing. Jordan was eating 2500 calories, which was a 500-1000 deficit by his calculations. He looked and felt amazing. He couldn’t stop smiling in the changing room at the campus gym. He’d had abs before, but they were really cut now. He could tell that he was destined for the brick abs you see on the fitness magazines. He also noticed more vascularity on his forearms. They were one of his favourite body parts, naturally veiny but they were responding even better to the cut. Not only that, but his lifts had actually gone up dramatically. He didn’t know how to explain it but somehow he had broken a plateau. He was already one of the strongest players on the team, but now he was varsity material for sure. At the end of the second week, he confidently stepped on the scales in the locker room to check his progress. 228 lbs. Well, that was confusing. But maybe the scale was busted. Or maybe it was just a fluke. Like, the wrong time of day or something. There’s no way it could be right. He had missed the biggest kegger of the semester for this. No way he could have GAINED weight. He was on his best behaviour. It had to be a fluctuation - tomorrow it would be down for sure. *** The first couple of weeks, John was sweating like a pig after every workout. His form was sloppy at first but he got into it pretty quickly. The bigger problem was honestly the nutrition. His trainer had him chugging gainer shakes every day until John felt like he was going to throw up. Still, every weekend he did the prescribed meal prep; every morning he measured out his shakes and supplements; every meal got logged in the food diary. And after a couple of weeks, he did feel stronger. His lifts were going up and his arms weren't quite as scrawny as before. But his daily weigh-in hardly changed since he started. In fact, it had gone down slightly. John had gotten noticeably leaner - 165lbs down from 175. His PT said this was fairly normal for beginners and probably just "newbie gains". But just to be sure, he'd upped John's daily calorie intake by another 10%, so it was now sitting at a little over 3000. John had never eaten so much food so regularly, so he was pretty confident this would work. *** Jordan had been dieting for 6 weeks. He was eating so little now that he felt dizzy after every workout. He had started logging his meals and he was barely eating 1500 calories. But he was still gaining weight, albeit slowly, sitting at 232 lbs. He was freaking out. The semester was almost over and there was no way he could meet his target. Well, not without taking performance enhancing drugs... but then he'd fail any tests, for sure. When he looked in the mirror, it didn't make any sense. He was obviously in the best shape of his life. He looked big and cut, with more vascular forearms then he had ever seen. With a growl of frustration, Jordan resigned himself to confronting the coach about this next time he got the chance. *** John had run out of calories to add to his diet. It felt like his life had revolved around eating, or meal planning. At least, until the time he ate too much and threw it back up. That incident caused him to go back to the drawing board. Was this fitness thing working for him? Well, he couldn't deny he was in the best shape of his life. He had a six-pack for the first time. Admittedly it was a pretty slim six-pack, the kind of thing you see on athletic teenagers, who play soccer but never set foot in a weight room. Still, he was proud of it. That, and he was the strongest he had been in a long time. But something was off... His progress in the weight room had plateaued way earlier than the internet seemed to think it should. Yeah, you can't compare yourself to every guy in the gym, but still. Most full-grown men should be able to squat 200 lbs, right? So why couldn't he he break past 175? But the real worry was the amount of weight loss he'd gone through. Despite eating WAY over his resting metabolism, he'd somehow managed to LOSE 10 lbs. How is that even possible!? He had looked online and seen some freaky stuff - tapeworms and drugs that make people burn crazy amounts of calories. Could something like that have happened to him...? No way... that had to be paranoia. He would just go talk to his PT. He must have run into this problem before. *** "Coach!" The man was benching iron by himself after practice. He had been expecting to have the gym to himself. With a loud grunt, he heaved the weight into the rack. Jordan had never seen so much weight loaded onto a bar in real life. The bar was visibly bending under the pressure. He did a quick bit of mental arithmetic on the plates stacked on the bar - that was, what... 350 lbs total? "What's the big idea, kid?" "S... sorry coach," Jordan mumbled. Coach's former linebacker physique was pumped and intimidating. "Listen, can we talk about the varsity team..." "Oh yeah, how's that going? I heard from your teammates that you're a changed man. Your performance has improved lately as well." "Coach, I know you're not going to believe this. I tried, I really did. But I haven't been able to lose the weight you wanted me to." "Huh?" Coach was confused. "How is that possible? You're, like... the most cut guy on the team right now." It was true. Jason was noticeably more vascular, with a more defined 6-pack, than anyone on his team. (And, truthfully, most of the varsity team as well.) "I don't know what to tell you, man. I've cut so much food I feel like crap all day. I get dizzy every time I work out. I think something might be medically wrong with me." Coach frowned and crossed his thick, hairy arms. "Geez, ok. Look, let me book an appointment with a doctor and we'll get you checked out. Until then, stop going to gym and I'm going to pull you from the team." Jordan looked devastated. "Sorry buddy, I have a duty to take care of you. It won't be a long break. Who knows, the extra recovery might be good for you." The jock sighed in frustration. It wasn't what he wanted to hear. But Coach was right, and he knew it... *** John's trainer got him a bunch of bloodwork done and a physical at the campus medical centre. The physical confirmed what John had thought - the young man had anomalously low body weight, not dangerous exactly, but lower than would expected of a normal man his age, especially given his physical regimen and diet plan. The working hypothesis was that John had an eating disorder. His vomitting incident was evidence that his body had started rejecting food. The most likely explanation was psychological. John was admittedly confused by this. If anything, psychologically he felt the opposite. He was actively trying to get huge! But the doctor said that the brain worked in mysterious ways... So, John waited to hear back from the clinic. Sometimes, he felt despondent. The doctor said that if it was an eating disorder he might have to be hospitalised and fed intravenously. But for now, they were waiting for some bloodwork to rule out some more obscure alternative diagnoses. In the mean time, John kept working out and eating as much as he could force himself too. He was sitting at 162 lbs, down from 175 at the start. He still looked healthy - he even had vascular forearms for the first time in his life. But he did feel noticeably lethargic and weak. Every time he finished a gym session, he was so exhuasted he had to crash onto his bed as soon as he got home. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep lifting weights like this. *** Jordan was the most restless he'd ever been in his life. He had been training weights since he was 15 and taking a break was driving him crazy. Usually he enjoyed taking time off, but then normally he had hobbies to distract him like skiing or surfing. But Coach had forbidden it. He had way more energy now that he was eating a normal diet. But he couldn't spend it doing stuff he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time alone in the house. He found he had a lot of sexual energy, so he hooked up with a few girls from around campus - some friends of friends, some tinder matches - but it didn't satisfy him for long and it was a lot of effort, so more and more he found himself jerking off by himself. Of course, to start with, his masturbation was fuelled by porn. But as the days passed, watching women's bodies wasn't doing it for him any more. And men's bodies didn't exactly do it for him, either. There was really only one body that turned him on, and it was his own. There was no question that Jordan had the best natural body on campus. By this point, he was 250 lbs of 19 year-old beef. His 48" pecs jutted out over his killer 6-pack. He had a perfect adonis belt and thick arms. Naturally hairless except the wispy growths in the pits beneath his wide shoulders. His 34" waist gave him perfect proportions. He could easily give up football and do bodybuilding instead. Fuck, he knew some guys on juice who were competing, and he was already bigger than they were. Jordan spent many evenings in his room practicing flexing his muscles. It was honestly bothering him slightly. Until recently, he would get laid regularly, and masturbate every once in a while as a backup. Now, it was reversed - he found admiring himself to be a lot more satisfying than having sex with women. They just didn't excite him like his own physique did. *** After about 3 weeks, Jordan and John both got a phone call telling them to come to the medical campus immediately. When they arrived, a pair of hospital staff escorted them deep into the facility. Along the way, John noticed a bunch of biohazard warnings. The two of them sat in a waiting room for 10 minutes. John was in awe of the muscular stud in front of him. He looked like a wet dream made into flesh. He was wearing shorts, trainers and a tank top, that left very little to the imagination. Jordan didn't really pay much attention to the small, unimposing Jordan. He thought that he looked kind of gay. "Twinks", Jordan thought to himself, "that's the skinny gay thing, right?" Eventually, they were called into a doctor's office. An athletic, middle-aged man greeted them. He had quite a serious expression, and spoke solemnly to the two students in an Eastern-European accent. "Boys, you can call me Doctor Ben. You've been called here because you both had bloodwork done, and the results were quite unambiguous. I'm afraid to tell you that you've both been infected by a virus. Unfortunately, it's an extremely rare disease for which there is no known cure. It seems to exclusively target men, preferentially young men. "The good news is that we believe it is not life-threatening. Typically, the infection lasts 2-4 months before leaving your system. You will need to be quarantined until the infection runs its course. Unfortunately, it will not be possible to continue your studies - you will have to repeat this year's education. "The virus is known as 'adonivirus', a reference to the Greek god Adonis, although the name can be misleading. The virus takes over cells primarily in adipose and muscular tissue, although it has a preference for muscle tissue. How the course of infection progresses varies depending on the immune response. "The body naturally tries to fight the infection by 'eating' its own fat and muscle tissue. The body no longer needs as much energy from food, and it will reject food if you try to overeat. Eventually, the body wastes away to the point that the virus can't sustain itself, and it dies out. The body will slowly recover, but the enhanced metabolism can persist for many years. Although it sounds bad, the long term survival prognosis is quite good, and people who survive the initial infection are typically able to maintain a healthy body weight. "However, for some people, the virus operates very differently. If your body lacks the right genes for fighting the infection, the virus can grow unchecked. "The virus starts by infecting the muscle and adipose tissue. Once there is no tissue left to infect, it begins to compromise the entire endocrine system - that's the body's hormone system. The goal is to maximise the body's ability to gain muscle mass. In extreme cases, the virus has been known to have other side effects as well, that appear to enhance the body's ability to grow beyond its natural limits. "Eventually, the virus population grows out of control and burns itself out. We still aren't sure how this happens. Unlike the immune system response, the changes that the virus makes are permanent. "In the past, doctors have tried to limit the effects of the virus, for example by artificially restoring the hormone balance in patients. However, this approach backfired - the virus simply redoubles its efforts, resulting in even more severe body changes. So, the best practice is to try the opposite approach, and 'cooperate' with the virus until it burns itself out, through weight training. "In both cases, you will need specialist nutrition and exercise plans. Because this disease is so rare, only a handful of medical practictioners around the world are able to treat it. I am the most senior expert on the virus in the world, and the government has asked me to treat you. Until I give the all-clear, you are legally forbidden from leaving this facility. "I have been studying this virus for 15 years, and I was flown here specifically to prepare this facility for you. The truth is, we have never had two cases this early in the disease lifecycle. If we are better able to understand this disease, it could be life-changing for millions of people. Not only other people who become infected, but if we are able to reverse-engineer the mechanisms that the virus uses, we could revolutionise the way that we treat obesity and frailty around the world. "For this reason, we would like to recruit you into a research study on the effects of the virus. If you agree, as an added incentive, we will waive your tuition loan and give each of you a $150,000 one-off payment. I want you to know that we are completely serious about this opportunity. "We will need to do regular checks on your blood and vital organs, and occasional body scans. But our interventions will be purely observational. We don't intend to deviate from existing treatment best practices. "Anyway, you don't have to decide right away. We can talk about this more tomorrow morning. I have prepared the paperwork for you to review in your sleeping quarters. Unfortunately, I only had time to properly quarantine a single bedroom. So, until I am able to prepare a second room, you will have to share. I must remind you that, although participation in this study is voluntary, your quarantine is not. "I'm sorry boys, this must be a lot to take in... if you have any questions, I would be happy to talk you through them..." *** John's head was spinning when he was dropped off in his room. The concrete walls were painted a clinical white, except for one wall of mirrors. There was a lot of space, two hospital beds and a couple of desks, as well as two wardrobes. Apparently John had been processed faster than Jordan, because the jock wasn't there yet. Next to each bed were some stacks of cardboard boxes. John opened one and found it contained a bunch of his clothing and possessions. There was a note attached to it. "John," it said. On the back, it said "Unfortunately, you won't be able to take any of this back with you after you leave. It will need to be destroyed. We will pay to replace them. Sorry. - Dr. Ben" None of this felt real to John. He dug through his stuff until he found his laptop. It worked fine, and the room had campus WiFi. He tried to call his parents, but they wouldn't pick up. He left them a message asking them to call right away. John was exhausted - not just from the events of the day, he was also generally fatigued, these days. Eventually, he passed out in bed, unable to keep his eyes open, waiting for Jordan to get in. *** Dr. Ben had run a full suite of physical exams for Jordan, almost as much as Coach had run when Jordan had first signed up to football. It was the first exercise Jordan had done in weeks, but he crushed it. He didn't get out until after midnight, but when he got into his room, he was still pumped with energy. His roommate looked like he was fast asleep when he got in. Jordan peeled off his sweaty atheltic gear and chucked it on the ground, trying not to wake him. The lights had been dimmed, but he could make out a whole wall of mirrors. Sweet, he thought. This place was even better than his old room! Chucking off his trainers and socks, the teen whipped out his semi-hard, 8-inch cock. Nothing to quickly burn through some energy than a quick flex and jerk-off, right? Jordan had always been pleased with his above-average endowment, it rounded off his physique perfectly. He wondered if the little twink had woken up and was watching, and it make his dick twitch. He put on a show for the mirror. Starting with a double bicep pose, his 20" arms bulging, his pits slightly damp from exertion, his large cock jutting out from his 34" waist. Then he followed it up with a most muscular. He could swear he looked bigger than last time. The realisation went straight to his cock. The huge mirror made his physique look even more awesome. As he bounced his pecs, his dick jumped to the rythm. "God, I hope the little runt is awake," he though to himself. "Oh, jesus. I'm so powerful. God damn..." After a few minutes of this, his cock erupted hands-free, all over the floor, making a faint, sloppy slap with each jet. Jordan hadn't thought about how to handle it. So as he came down from his post-orgasm high, he grabbed his used underwear and wiped it up as best he could. Although, there was a lot to get through. Jordan collapsed on his bed, naked, on top of the covers, his cock still half-hard - it was never fully satisfied these days - and thought to himself about everything. He was gonna have to break it to his parents that he wouldn't make varsity this year. Would he even be allowed to play sports now? Geez, what was he going to do with his life? After a few minutes, though, the post-orgasm high faded and Jordan faded into a comfortable night's sleep.

The experiment had started. Nicholas drank the pill as his father. He noticed the one his father had was pink while his was blue, but he didn't give it much importance, they had orders to follow. The last few years the world has fallen into war and suffering. High ranked officials demanded his Dad (a veteran militar) to get into this experiment. They would have to live in an isolated shack while being watched the whole time by cameras. Nicho remembered how he had asked his father many times what the pills they were going to have to take did, but his father truly didn't know. After taking the first pill they would have to take the first exercise lesson. They stepped to the room were a tv that covered the entire wall turned on out of nowhere. -Hi - the highly robotic voice said- Welcome to the program “Fathers and sons” where we are going to analyse your data and responses to exercise and medicine. Now we will start with basic exercise, in this part of the program we will observe the changes in your body while training. The “Microlive” will be analysing from inside your brain your whole body. But for us to watch the external influence we need you to get naked. Please undress completely- Nicholas got red immediately, he was really ashamed of being naked with his dad. But he undressed anyway. Both straight males stood side by side looking to the tv avoiding eye contact. -Recognizing subjects. Subject one: Nicholas. Male Male, 1,79m tall, 59kg, muscle development 5%. Completed superficial analysis, proceeding with profound observation. Testosterone: Low , Happiness levels: Low, Penis size: 15cm erect, anus:not sensitive- Nicho’s face turned completely red. He couldn't believe his father had just heard that. -Subject two: Michael, Male Woman, 1,89m tall, 100kg, muscle development 59%. Completed superficial analysis, proceeding with profound observation. Testosterone: High, Happiness levels: Low, Penis size: 19 cm erect, anus: not sensitive- Michael was proud of his stats, he was 50 years old and he was in better shape than his puny kid. He was by not means a supermodel, but he had the body of a man. Broad shoulders, big arms, a little gut and hair. Lots of hair. He always thought of his kid as a little too effeminate, he knew he was straight but he didn't look like a man. In some ways he look to much like his mother… -Lets begin the exercises- the machine said. The training started normally, both Father and son were uncomfortable of having to do push ups and other stuff while being naked. While Michael completed all the tasks, Nicholas couldn't finish many of them and he was really tired of the end. -Now for this I need you to come together. You will recreate some poses that are being displayed. This is for gathering data of how they affect you- As the first image appeared in screen both men got really nervous. In the screen appeared and old muscular man grabbing by the wrists a teen and pushing his arms behind his bended back. The biggest problem however was that as the teen lowered his back ninety degrees, his butt was against the older man’s pelvis. Nicholas wasn't going to do it but his father gave him no option as he grabbed his arms and got him into position. Nicho could feel the heat of his father cock against the crack of his ass and felt disgusted. -Excellent now keep the position for two minutes- as the computer said the last word in the screen appeared a clock. Nicholas felt his hand hold in place by his father bigger hands and strength. Michael felt how his cock rubbed his son's ass hair and closed his eyes to not vomit. He would never do anything like this with his son if he didn't thought he was obligated. The soft skin of Nicho’s ass rubbed his fat dick and he not knowingly pressed his pelvis a little more. As the smell of his son entered his nose he remembered Barbara , Nicholas was really similar to her and that was hard to him sometimes. Distracted on his thoughts Michael started rubbing his cock against his son's ass that was starting to feel some movement, he didn't say anything because he knew not to mess up with his father. He felt this muscle man's fat cock rubbing and pressing harder against his butt and said nothing. He felt a real man behind him, he felt castrated in comparison, like a woman or a chick. His dad was now rubbing everything against him and the time went out. -That was perfect, now before you go to sleep lets do one more- The robotic voice woke Michael from the trans. He let go his son and backed. They both could see how his cock has swelled and said nothing. The next image was the same two people but now the grown man was grabbing the teen by his ass and pressing him. And the younger one had his hands on the shoulders of the oder man. Their whole body was touching each other. Again Michael took the lead and graved Nicho's but and pressed against him. Nicho on the other hand nervously got his hands on his father's muscle shoulders in what from the outside looked like a really romantic position. They both looked at each others eyes. Nicho has the eyes of his mother thought Michael as he cupped his son's bubble butt. It was big, bigger than what he thought, his fingers caressed it a little bit, and soft. His semi soft cock was pressing against his son's abs and it was getting harder. He closed his eyes, it was like hugging Barbara. His strong fingers entered his son's crack and explored the whole outside of his ass. Just like Barbara he thought. Nicholas meanwhile could feel the precum of his father running in his stomach. Again he was feeling castrated. He was standing like a woman, being touched by his father like one. Why couldn't he be more masculine? Have those broad shoulders, his hands travelled through his dad's torso imagining how it would be like. Masculinity, power, that dick that he was feeling. His cock was as hard as his father's. That's how two straight men ended up hard by being with each other. The training ended and both have to sleep. There was only one bed for two people. They would have to sleep together.

Nice use of the monkey emoji!! ? Thanks, guys! Well Noah manages to keep those fears buried for now and doesn't worry too much more about the future for the time being. That part was more him just having a bit of a panic/thoughts spiralling etc. I have a bit of a soft spot for the next chapter, even if it's maybe not the most action packed!

this just all feels so real.....i was every bit as hard as noah!! ?

And new metric measurements used in the entire world.

"Retard units" is a strong worde, whych myght make sundry and mickle yeomen wonderly wroth. Methinks "units suitable for Renaissance Faires" is a faire, seeming and passing waye of wordes, honouring the merrie and olde dayes of yore from whych the units springe.

Here it is. If bobaroo objects then of course we'll take it down. I really hope I'm not treading on any toes here. Enjoy Mike's Workout by [email protected] There were several cars and trucks parked in the lot when Mike pulled into a space. "Good," he thought, "everyone is here and ready. Means I can get started right away." He smiled as he walked into the bright sunshine. It was a warm spring day, clear but not too hot. "Perfect for a workout," he thought. "Always can really kick ass when I'm not fighting the weather." The warm sunshine felt good on his back and shoulders as Mike walked forward. He wasn't wearing any shirt; he never did when he exercised in good weather. Mike's skin was already darkening from being out in the sun for hours each day. He was wearing ripped denim cut-off shorts and scuffed heavy-duty construction boots, and that was it. There was a slight breeze that riffled the thick patch of brown hair on his chest, slightly tickling him. Mike scratched at his pec just as he rounded a corner to where Tom and Jeremy were chatting. The two men stopped talking the second they saw him and just stared. Even now after a year of workouts he still had that effect on them. He had that effect on everyone, really, and Mike loved it. He smiled, even white teeth glinting in the sun, contrasting against the dense brown goatee that surrounded his full lips. The men were staring at his arm, the bicep full and peaked even though it hadn’t been pumped at all yet. The sinews in Mike’s forearm twitched around zig-zagging veins as he absently scratched his chest again. Tom’s gaze traveled from the hulking mass of Mike’s upper arm along the rippling forearms to the sausage-sized fingers whose tips were buried in the bush of hair that sprouted from Mike’s chest. Jeremy had been staring at Mike’s chest from the beginning. They were two enormous humps of rounded muscle that jutted out so far that it seemed that anywhere he went that Mike’s nipples would arrive two minutes before his bubble butt ass did. Mike walked over to them and asked, “How’s it going, guys?” in a deep bass that sometimes spooked dogs. Mike towered over the other two since he stood 6 foot 6 inches. Tom and Jeremy forgot whatever it was that they were talking about, and they looked up into Mike’s handsome face. “It’s going good,” Jeremy said. “I’m looking forward to this workout, as always.” Tom nodded, since his mouth had gone a bit dry. The air temperature hadn’t changed, but with Mike’s arrival it was as if additional heat was being pumped into the atmosphere. Tom dropped his eyes from Mike’s to look at the big man’s neck, which was much thicker than his head. Huge trap muscles protruded from either side of the neck, to merge into the gigantic caps of muscles that were Mike’s deltoids. And that brought Tom’s gaze back to the swollen right arm, now hanging at Mike’s side, but pushed out at an angle by the sweep of the lat muscle. Mike smiled, said, “Me too,” then turned and saw a man in the distance, climbing into the cab of a crane that sat 100 feet away. “I see that Little Mike is getting ready. Let’s do that first.” Little Mike stood 6 foot 2 and was a burly construction worker. Under any other circumstances no one would ever have given him that nickname, but compared to Mike he was little. He was one of those guys who are naturally big and strong but when three months ago when he answered the ad for a crane operator he never expected to be dwarfed by anyone. And when he heard what the job entailed, he thought that Mike was crazy. Until he stayed to watch a workout. He quit his old job that day. Mike strode across the dusty yard while Tom sprinted to another crane. Jeremy walked further along, heading for the fork lift that he would be operating later. They were at an old railroad yard that wasn’t in use any more and that Mike had been able to get for his own use after a visit to the president of the freight company that owned it. It was his to use for free, just like the construction equipment donated by a local contractor. All Mike had to do was pay a visit once in a while and show how his workouts were going, provide a few tapes of them and the company presidents gave him whatever he wanted. Tom got into the cab of the crane just as Mike reached a spot midway between his crane and Little Mike’s. He started the engine and Mike bent down, stretching each arm out a bit. When Mike stood up in each mitt he held a thick metal loop, the iron four inches around. He nodded and both Tom and Little Mike moved levers and the cranes started to reel in the steel cables that were attached to the metal loops. When Mike’s arms were stretched out, he started to contract his chest muscles. There was a whine in the air as the crane motors strained as the cables were pulled out again. Mike made the knuckles of each hand touch, then slowly extended his arms again. The whine died down, but Mike was still exerting resistance on the cables, so that they shortened slowly. But once Mike’s arms were fully extended again the whine sounded as the engines labored to continue shortening the cable. But something more powerful was drawing the cables out. Mike’s pectoral muscles contracted, overpowering the cranes that normally would be used to lift girders up at construction sites. Little Mike worked the gearshift with one hand while he held onto binoculars with the other. He saw Mike’s chest as it swelled up, the brutal muscle overpowering thousands of horsepower of machinery. Even though Mike’s muscles were covered with all that hair it was still possible for Little Mike to see the exploding fan of striations in the pecs as Mike inexorably drew his hands closer together. Little Mike started shoving his crotch against the base of the gearshift as he watched his bigger namesake below. After 15 reps the men shifted gears to idle the cranes as Mike dropped the loops. The warm up felt good and Mike could already feel the blood rushing into his chest muscles. This WAS going to be a good workout, he knew it. Mike bent down to start the next set. Tom and Little Mike shifted into a higher gear and the cranes exerted more power this time, as if they were lifting a heavier load of 20 tons. As Mike’s muscles overcame the pull of the machines Tom could hear that his crane was making louder noises than usual. Its engine wouldn’t last too much longer against the superhuman power in Mikes’ chest. Mike would have to pay another personal visit to the construction company soon to persuade the president to donate a new one. He’d have to tell Mike what to ask for because this model was getting too easy for Mike anyway. Mike had noticed the difference in the engine also, and that made his cock stir a little in his tight shorts. He had demolished so many machines by now that he had lost count, but it was a rush anyway each time that it happened. He thought about the locomotive that was used for leg presses. Mike would lie on the train track, knees bent, his feet placed up against the reinforced front of an engine usually used to pull 50 boxcars. Dave the engineer would sound the whistle and then start the locomotive forward. Mike would extend his legs and the wheels of the locomotive would squeal as it was forced backward. Then Mike would slowly bend his knees and the train would move forward, but only about two feet because Mike’s legs would hold it in place. Rep after rep, the train would inch forward, only to be shoved backward by the overwhelming force of Mike’s thigh muscles. For each set Dave would push the throttle forward more, so that more horsepower was driving the engine forward. But no matter the horsepower, it was always halted by Mike. His thighs would be bulging insanely by the end of the last set, and when he stood up and did a thigh flex, gargantuan tear drops of muscle would blast into view. One day Dave had the throttle pushed all the way and Mike just held it in place after the set was done. For ten minutes the wheels of the train screeched as they spun on the rails until two snapped off and went flying, almost killing Tom who was standing on the sidelines, jerking his cock with both hands. A smell of burning insulation also filled the air, and the engineer shut the locomotive down. Mike remembered the feeling of triumph he felt as he stood up and saw the locomotive slightly askew on the rails, its engine wrecked. Dave slowly climbed out of the cab, the front of his pants soaking wet. Mike also remembered the look of the railroad president’s face while he was telling him this, the look in his eyes, the slight gape of his mouth. It was a combination of fear and lust. Needless to say, a locomotive was “retired” from active service that day and driven to the workout yard. Mike crunched out the last rep of the second set of cable flyes, tensing his chest tightly. Then he nodded and slowly released the cables as the operators shifted the gears. Jeremy had come back to watch and he handed Mike a bottle of water from which Mike took a few gulps. He wiped the back of his hand against his mouth and handed the bottle back. Mike noticed that Jeremy had a bulge in his pants, but what else was new? Jeremy saw Mike’s gaze on his crotch and that just caused his cock to throb harder in his jeans which would be showing the pre-cum stain soon enough. Mike got ready and nodded for the third set to begin. The cranes exerted the equivalent of 30 tons of force, but at a certain point Mike’s chest again halted the movement of the metal loops. Last week Mike had had the guys increase the force because 28 tons had become too easy, so he was straining a bit now against the machines. But that’s what would make his muscles grow even stronger, he knew that, and that’s what he wanted. By the ninth rep he gritted his teeth a little and then let the cables retract. Tom sounded a blast on the horn, a signal to ask if that was the last rep. Mike angrily shook his head and yanked on the cables so that they stretched out again, pulled out by the titanic force exerted by his chest muscles. He was gulping air and that caused his pecs to seem as if they were undulating with power. He forced his knuckles to touch, as for every other rep, then nodded his head to signal that he had completed the set. Little Mike and Tom shut down the cranes as Mike let the loops drop to the ground. Mike did a side chest pose for Jeremy and said, “Not bad for a 48-year old, is it?” Between the exertion of the exercise and the warmth of the spring day, Mike had started to sweat so that the hair was beginning to get slightly matted down with wetness. There were some beads of sweat on Mike’s arms that had started to get pumped up as well from outmuscling the heavy machinery. “Come on, I’m gonna need you for the next set, you know that,” Mike said. He turned and walked over to the next exercise, with Jeremy trotting along to keep up. Mike stopped at a concrete pillar that had thick padding on the top of it. He bent down and as if he were doing the limbo dance, he lowered himself down so that he was lying on the pad. He had to bend because there was a steel girder over the pillar. On each side of the girder a boxcar had been bolted to the end of the iron bar so that it was held up by the cars, suspended just over the pad. Mike grabbed onto the girder and his fingers fit into the grooves there. This wasn’t surprising since he had moulded the hand grips himself when the bench press station had first been built. Squeezing into the metal, deforming the edge of the girder so that he would be able to keep a good grip on it. Because he was going to be lifting very, very heavy weights. Mike straightened his arms and the girder began to rise. On each side was an old freight boxcar loaded with the compressed wreckage of old cars, so that Mike was lifting 200 tons of metal. Mike’s pecs were bulging into two thick mountain peaks of muscle, and if you had put a normal barbell pole in between his chest muscles it would be flattened out by now. Up and down the freaky assemblage went, until after 20 times Mike manoeuvred the girder back into the uprights. Jeremy immediately moved the forklift over to a pile of crushed auto bodies that had been brought from a junkyard, 2 tons each. Mike got off the bench and grabbed a cube of twisted metal in his hand and tossed it into the open doorway of one of the boxcars. He walked over and picked up another cube, bending his legs as he did so then straightening up. A truck this had probably been, but it was not too heavy for Mike. He pushed that into the rail car with the other one. He and Jeremy added more metal into the cars until they were up to 220 tons. Mike laid back on the bench and began to press the huge weights up. His chest muscles felt tight, but this wasn’t a major test of his strength. He knew that he could pump out more than 15 reps and he held the weight in full control for each of the ten reps that he did. “Yo, Jeremy, another 15 on your side,” he called out when he was done with the set. The bleep, bleep of the forklift as it backed up rang on and on as Mike grabbed hold of the wreckage of other big SUVs and trucks to put into the waiting box car. The other guys had gathered to watch. Under any other circumstance, a man picking up one of these cubes of metal would have been front page news. But Mike was far past this point. He turned to face the other men and said, “Time to really work these pecs.” He positioned himself back onto the pad and started to lift. The metal raised up and down over and over. Jeremy remembered being concerned the first time that he saw this exercise being performed. After the first rep he asked Mike, “Shouldn’t we do something with the cranes? Loop the hooks around so they can act like a spot?” Mike just grinned and pressed Jeremy’s face against his pumped up chest muscles and said, “These boys are never going to give out on me, don’t you worry.” But Jeremy still watched in awe as those huge humps of muscles contracted and powered the weight overhead. Much more weight than a year ago when he started working for Mike. The girder back in place, Mike roared, “Jeremy, hurry up, we’ve got to up the weight for the next set!” Jeremy ran and soon had 10 more cubes into the left box car. Mike powered out another set, as the other three men counted out the reps. “Another one,” bellowed Dave at the 10th rep finished. Mike pushed it up, obviously more effort than the others, and then Little Mike shouted, “Grow, man, grow!” and Mike did one more, than one more, his teeth gritting as he slowly lowered the weight back down. Mike stood up and the other men gasped at the way that his chest looked, pumped and sweaty, protruding out over his taut waist. Mike was breathing deeply and his chest expanded with every intake of breath and Little Mike whispered, “Oh man, it’s better every day.” Mike heard that and smirked as he stepped down from the platform and headed over to a similar one, the three men trailing him. Dave offered Mike a towel at the next station and the huge man wiped down his chest and stomach and wiped under each deep hairy armpit. He tossed it back to Dave who brought it up to his face and breathed in deeply. Mike laid down on another concrete pillar but this one was inclined at an angle. He grabbed a girder in each hand. A tractor trailer was welded onto the end of each girder and Mike quickly began to do incline flyes with them. He heard the sound of the forklift that Jeremy was driving over, and when he was done with the first set Dave and Jeremy each used a forklift to load a few car cubes into the open doorway at the side of each trailer. “Want to see me lift more?” Mike asked. “Hell yeah!” Tom answered. Mike laid down and quickly did a set, followed by another one once Dave and Jeremy had loaded in 5 more cubes per side. When he finished the last set Mike was panting a little but he felt great. Such power! It boned him up when he lifted like this, and he lifted like this every day. His three helpers watched him walk down slowly from the weight station. They saw the bulge in his jeans and hoped to get a glimpse of the thick head peaking out from the bottom of the cut-off shorts. Mike walked over to them, rather than heading for the decline bench with the cement mixers. “Damn, boys, I’m horned up right now. I think that I have to take care of it before going on with the work out.” The men were thrilled, because usually when this happened they were treated to two sets of muscle sex, rather than one. Mike rubbed his swelling crotch with his right hand while he felt his bloated right pec with his left hand. It was so hard and firm, harder than one of the metal cubes that he had tossed into the box car earlier. Little Mike was hoping that he would get a chance to suck off the big man today – it had been 3 days since he had. Tom felt in his pocket for the tube of lubricant, hoping that he would get fucked again like last week. But Mike had other plans. “Guys, I must have spring fever. So randy that I want to really cut loose now. Sorry, but I’m going to take care of this bad boy myself,” he said as he unzipped his fly. The three men were crestfallen even as their excitement grew at the sight of the thick cockhead pressing Mike’s jock through the open fly. This hadn’t happened before; Mike always let them get off on his muscles. Mike pushed the denim shorts down, exposing the round globes of his glutes. He shifted weight on one foot and the left cheek became streaked with radiating muscle striations. Tom was already fingering his cock through his open fly. Mike fingered the broad head of his cock as it strained even further against the jock, and then he tucked a finger into the waistband and slowly yanked the monster free. Jeremy undid his belt buckle and pulled his pants down to reveal a dick already at full throttle. Little Mike was not far behind, taking his big dripping tool out of his pants. Mike swirled his hand over his purple dick head, feeling the precum smoothing the abrasion of his hard calloused hand as it moved around it. His left hand went back to his right chest muscle, feeling under the rock of muscle and sweeping it around to the front. He grabbed his nipple between thumb and forefinger and pinched hard as his right hand started to stroke his fully engorged rod. He remembered the feeling as he forced out a rep against the big cranes, wearing their motors down. He smiled a broad smile as he thought of the day, probably not so far away, when he would need two cranes for each hand to test his muscles, to make them grow even stronger. Mike moaned at that image, then thought of TV cameras beaming it to a world wide audience. Millions of men and women masturbating as they watched his muscles exerting their unrelenting power against the machinery, forcing it to submit in his quest to get stronger. He said out loud, “Guys, this is going to be something today,” as he squeezed his hand around his shaft and began to jerk it quickly. “Everyday I really get off on fucking you, getting sucked and jerked by you,” he said. “But I always have to hold back.” “Hold back?” Dave asked as he fisted his meat, staring directly at Mike’s chest. “Didn’t you ever think about it? How I could curl fully loaded dump trucks with each hand, yet still grab onto you while I fucked you standing up? The muscle control that’s involved to keep from squishing you like a grape. Then shooting a volley of cum in your ass. That takes control. Holding back.” “Shit, it gets me hot myself to think of how strong I am. The power and muscle. The majesty.” All three smaller men were standing close around Mike now, their own cocks aching in their hands. Mike was huffing harder than when he was benching and they knew that he was close. “Yeah, the fucking power, uggh, uggh, can’t hold back thinking about it!” Mike shouted. “Watch it!” Then a big glob of cum shot out from Mike’s cock, rocketing 20 feet across the yard to a boulder at the edge of the work out area. There was a load crack as the rock split into pieces and then another shot broke it further. The third load blasted it into small bits and the other men had to duck from being hit by the debris. Little Mike screamed like a girl at the sight and sent his own load splattering onto the dirt. Dave had tears in his eyes when he realized what Mike was talking about, as he shot, and Jeremy and Tom were just panting as they pumped cum all over the ground in front of them. Mike’s cum was not going as far now and was plopping a few feet in front of him, kicking up dirt into the air. His hand traveled down the length of his cock one last time, then he stopped and turned to them. “See what I meant about holding back? I would blast the back of your heads off if I didn’t control how hard my balls and crotch muscles pumped out that spunk.” Little Mike pressed his cheek against Mike’s furry chest and murmured, “What a way to go.” Mike smiled and rubbed his rough hand across Little Mike’s shaved head. “Hey, we have three more sets of chest to do today. Maybe when it’s done you can suck me off and think about it.”

As Roger indicated, Tom received a packet that evening with all of the gym’s business documents. Two days later, he received a letter from Roger’s attorney, setting forth Roger’s demand for buying out his interest. Tom recognized the amount was based on a valuation far below the gym’s actual worth, and was an amount he would have no trouble obtaining a loan to finance. Tom was feeling some regret over the dramatic way things had ended with Roger. Even though Roger had slugged him and shoved Rand, there was no denying he had a lot of history with Roger, and had strong feelings about him. Tom decided to call Roger and see if they could talk and part on better terms. He left messages at Roger’s apartment and on his cell but got no response. Irritated, he called Roger’s office and was told that Roger had taken a six month leave of absence, that he had left the area, and that they were not authorized to provide a forwarding number. Tom was shocked to hear that Roger had taken a leave of absence. Roger’s work had been so important to him that it had been hard for Tom to get him to agree to take even a week away. However, if this is how Roger wanted it to end, that was fine with him. He had plenty on his plate, including getting Rand ready for his first competition. Rand was moving toward his goal nicely. The muscle just seemed to flow onto him even though he was staying relatively lean so that the final dieting down to low single digit body fat would not be unmanageable. Besides great bicep peaks and bulging shoulders, Rand had a remarkable lat spread for his guy his age. Plus, he was great sex - ready to go at it whenever Tom could find the time - and his cock was just how Tom wanted it - big, but not bigger than Tom’s. Tom was also working himself hard. He wanted to be in his best condition ever for his guest posing. He kept running over in his mind how perfect it was going to be - Rand winning the contest (as he was sure he would having seen the competition in prior years) and then the two of them posing alongside each other - like Hercules and Zeus! As they reached the final two weeks before the contest, they were both progressing perfectly. They were both cutting their fat to have that razor sharp look on stage. Tom calculated that Rand would weigh in at 240, and he would be a remarkable 255. The week before the competition, the list of competitors became available on line. When Tom started looking he was pleased because he saw names he recognized that he knew would be no challenge to Rand. Then, near the end of the list, he did a double take when he saw Roger’s name. His first reaction was to laugh - it was such an absurd thing for Roger to do. Then he became angry. Roger’s presence - even if he was just going to make a fool of himself - was going to upset the perfect evening he had planned for Rand’s triumphant inauguration to the bodybuilding stage in which Tom planned to be the star guest. He had to put a stop to this nonsense. For the first time in five months, Tom dialed Roger’s home number. “Hello.” “Roger, it’s Tom.” “What is it?” “Roger, I saw your name on the contestant list. You can’t do this.” “I don’t see where’s it your business.” “Roger, you are going to make a fool of yourself.” “Again, not your business.” “Roger, I’m asking you not to do this.” “My competing in the contest really bothers you.” “Yes.” “Good. See you then, Tom.” Tom grimaced as he heard the phone hang up. “Fucker.” When Tom told Rand that Roger had entered the contest, he treated it as a joke. What kind of idiot attempts his first contest at 39 years old? Although Rand said little, he was actually quite pleased. Tom was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and Roger was Tom’s ex-lover. Making Roger look pathetic standing next to him on stage suited Rand just fine. When the day of the contest arrived, it was clear that Tom’s training and dieting strategy had been timed perfectly - both Tom and Rand were in peak condition. As Rand entered the warm up room, the 10 other competitors already in the room looked him over. Even with a sweat shirt on, it was clear this guy was going to be hard to beat. Then they saw the even bigger guy with him. If that guy was competing, they might as well all give up now. A wave of relief filled the room as he introduced himself as the guest poser, Tom. The other competitors found it hard not to stare when Rand and Tom took off their sweat clothes and stood there in posing shorts coaching each other through warm up curls. They were both big and remarkably shredded. The muscles visibly flowed through perfect proportions on each of them. Ten minutes later, the door opened again and another guy walked in the room. Many of the contestants immediately thought, we must have two guest posers today because it was evident he was as big, or bigger, than Tom. Tom stared at the new guy in the room. “Roger, hello.” “Hello, Tom. Good to see you. You too, Rand.” Rand nodded a greeting. “I’ve tried several times to reach you, Roger.” “I realized I needed some space. I went to LA and found a guy to train with.” Roger found an empty space in the room and removed his oversized sweat shirt. Although they tried to hide it, all eyes in the room were pasted on the mass of muscles now on display. Roger weighed in at 260, and his bodyfat was in the low single digits. For years, Tom had taunted Roger that he lacked Tom’s sharply visible abdominals. Now, Roger midsection consisted of a chiseled eight-pack immediately below his large pertruding meaty.pecs. As Roger moved into a corner of the room to pump up with a set of dumbbells, the other competitors, including Rand, couldn't help but keep an eye on him, looking for some minor flaw in Roger’s physique. Tom mumbled a few words of encouragement to Rand as the show began and Rand prepared to walk on stage to do his individual posing routine, but they both knew what was coming. Rand’s performance was impressive, and in any other year he would have been the clear favorite to come in first, but Roger, with his huge size and perfect condition, dominated the show. During the final judging, Rand was placed next to Roger, and as they alongside each other went through quarter turns, front double biceps, rear double biceps, lat spreads, side triceps and chest, Rand paled next to Roger’s more massive mature and conditioned muscle. To no one’s surprise, Roger and Rand finished, respectively, first and second place in both the super heavyweight division and overall. As the winner’s cup was brought out to Roger, Rand silently walked off stage without shaking even a congratulatory shaking of hands with the winner. Tom wanted to go and attempt to console his defeated young lover, but it was time for his appearance as the event’s guest poser alongside the contest’s overall winner, Roger. Tom made his best effort to smile and wave at the audience as he strode out onto the stage. Tom knew he was probably in the most impressive condition of his life - he had never carried as much muscle mass at such a low bodyfat level onto a stage before. His pride in that accomplishment, however, was offset by the fact that waiting for him on stage stood the lover he had dumped six months ago, now sporting a body that would make a Greek God envious, waiting to pose alongside him. The crowd was cheering as the titled guest-poser walked across the stage to congratulate the contest winner. Usually, such a congratulation involved a still developing novice to appear alongside a much larger fully developed professional. This time, however, there were two Goliaths on the stage facing each other. Tom stared at Roger as he walked toward him, starting to extend his arm in a congratulatory handshake but his eyes expressing a deep anger at how Roger had upset his plans for the day. Roger glared back at his ex, but made no move to accept a handshake. Instead, Roger tensed his body and slowly moved his arms up over his shoulders in a double bicep pose facing his former partner only five feet away from him. As the crowd applauded the sight of Roger’s mountainous biceps and huge delts, Tom knew he was being challenged. There was no way he was going to be upstaged by a man he had trained from a fat slug. “Not bad for an amateur, but let me show you how it’s done.” Tom moved into his own double bicep pose, mirroring Roger standing directly in front of him. In response, Roger squeezed his arms a little tighter, causing his massive arms to become even more vascular. “That may impress your youngsters, Tom, but I’ve seen better. Your biceps never were your best feature. “ As there was no microphone on stage, the former lovers words were heard only by each other. The audience looked on in silence as the two Goliaths sized each other up. Still facing Roger, Tom brought his arms down and to his size with his fist in towards his side, pushed up his chest, and spread his massive lats. “You’ve always had big guns, Roger, but a real bodybuilder has to have the whole package.” Roger looked over his rival’s shedded front lat spread - no denying that Tom was impressive, but Roger was not cowed. “I couldn’t agree more. You’ve always had a good v-taper, but I think mine is a bit wider.” Roger brought his arms down and moved into the same lat spread pose as Tom - indeed showing a back from the front was clearly every bit as wide as Tom’s. Then Roger turned around placing his rear lat spread in front of Tom, who did a double take at the sight of the layers of gnarly muscle stretched out in front of him. Tom relaxed his own pose for a second, but immediately returned to it. He couldn't let the audience think this amateur was intimidating the pro. As Roger turned back to face Tom with a confident grin on his face, Tom turned and gave Roger a show of the deep striations in Tom’s own massive back. Roger recognized immediately that Tom was both larger and more cut than Tom had ever been in their years together. Tom turned back to face his ex-lover. They just stood staring at each other for a second. Then Roger stepped his right leg out slightly and twisted it to the side to show off the development of his huge quads. A snear filled Roger’s face that Tom knew meant only one thing: “Match that, fucker!” Without hesitation, Tom flexed his right leg into the same pose, pressing his foot into the floor in a manner that showed the thick layers of muscle leading into his hips. “You couldn't possibly think you were going to compete with these wheels!” “That and everything else, old man.” The two goliaths were now completely oblivious to the audience, the judges, or the other competitors who had assembled around the stage to witness this grudge match. Neither of the competitors cared about impressing a judge or the audience - all either one of them cared about was showing the other who was now the big dog. They began slowly and silently walking around each other in concentric circles like wrestlers looking for an opportunity to grab an advantage. Tom bounced his huge pecs at Roger. Roger flexed his own colossal chest in response and then twisted his torso to show Tom his side left triceps. Tom responded with the same pose, and brought his right arm up to display the peak of his bicep and the roundness of his delts. Roger raised his arms to his side and the twisted them forward, showing of his own cannon ball shoulders, then locked his arms behind his head and leaned back to display the deep cuts in the layers of his abs. Tom recognized this pose was particularly a taunt, as Roger had always been envious of Tom’s chiseled mid-section. Tom knew Roger was saying I can take you on what you were always best. Tom immediately raised his own arms behind his head and sucked in his gut to say I still have I over you. The two now stood about three feet apart, glaring at each other as they both shift weight to show off the shifting abs. As if it had been planned, both men simultaneously brought their arms down from behind their heads and circled their arms in front of their chests, leaning their heads forward in the most muscular crab pose facing each other with their heads only slightly apart. The rivals flexed their arms, chest and shoulders with an intensity that caused the veins in their necks to bulge. In each other’s eyes they saw nothing but mounting anger. The crowd had stayed largely quiet throughout this personal showdown. That silence was suddenly broken by a single shouting voice: “0h for Pete’s sake, get a room!” Thankful for the break in tension, the crowd roared in laughter. For Tom that laughter was a derisive slap that caused him to snap. He used his tensed arms to shove Roger across the stage. Roger landed on his ass, bolted to his feet and stormed across the stage, tackling Tom and pulling him to the ground. The two former lovers and business partners locked hands and began wrestling on the floor, their muscles still pumped from posing and flexing now straining against each other. Roger managed to get on top of Tom and pinned his wrists to the floor. Tom was beginning to push Roger off him when the stage filled with competitors and Judges pulling the combatants off each other and forcing them to separate sides of the stage. Across the stage, Roger could see Rand standing in front of Tom, trying to calm him down. Roger shook off the arms of the smaller men trying to restrain him, and then turned and went to gather his few possessions back stage and leave. The next day, Roger learned that as a result of his onstage brawl with Tom, he had been stripped of the title which had been awarded to Rand. It meant nothing to Roger, as he had no intent to ever compete again. He had attended only to put Tom in his place. Tom also soon after ceased competing. He felt like every time he showed up at an event, the conversations behind his back were all about the story of the evening he lost it when an amateur gave him a run for his money. He was largely correct - he could never again be judged just on the basis of the physique he presented. With his energy now fully focused on his gym, Tom learned he was his better at business than he realized. He developed a training system that found an avid following, and was able to develop a network of affiliated gyms. In five years, he had over 200 employees and was making annual profits of over two mllion. Tom also developed a reputation as a sought after trainer for celebrities needing to get into exceptional condition for movie roles, and, ironically, for professional wrestlers. Roger also returned to his work as his primary interest, and his company’s value rapidly escalated. In the following years, he made a few attempts at new relationships but none really held his attention for long. On a business trip to Europe, he met a strikingly handsome Italian, and for two years attempted a long distance relationship, but eventually Roger accepted it was not meant to be. When his company was finally bought out, Roger received a nine figure payment that meant he could be wealthy for the rest of his life and do whatever he wanted. However, Roger had no idea what he wanted. He was 49 years old - too young to just play golf for the rest of his life, but possibly too old to start from scratch on something completely new. The urge to start fresh had led him to relocate to this new city where maybe he would find something worth getting up for in the morning.

Tom and Roger spent the rest of that day and most of the following week in Tom’s bedroom, exploring each other’s bodies and discovering the various possibilities for man on man sex. The latter required substantial negotiation and compromise. Roger and Tom were each by nature a dominant personality used to getting his way and telling others what to do, and both found it hard to imagine not being the “top man.” At one point, Tom covered the floor of his living room with mats he had brought home from the gym and they engaged in bouts of friendly but intense wrestling over who would get his way - sometimes for hours as they were closely matched. They taught each other, however, how to enjoy the receiving role. In sex, as in other parts of their relationship, they were competitive and left each other exhausted, although neither would ever admit it to the other. Roger informed his wife Dana that their marriage was over. He gave her no explanations, and she really didn’t demand any. Roger offered and she accepted a settlement that left her with more than adequate resources to start a new life in another city. They parted not as friends, but without tears. Roger’s new life revolved around only two things - work and Tom. They maintained separate apartments, but went for weeks without sleeping apart, and when they did it was typically because Roger needed to be out of town on business. Although they never formally identified themselves to anyone as anything other than “friends,” they were only seen out in the evening together at the city’s restaurants, theaters, and social events. Nothing was ever said but it was clear to all that the city’s most eligible and attractive bachelors were only interested in each other. The constant sexual tension between them only served to heighten the couple’s competiveness during the hour or two they trained together most days at the gym. Each of them seemed intent on proving he could lift another ten pounds more than the other, or perform an extra two repetitions. When Roger or Tom was successful in doing so, he made a point of rubbing it in the other’s face with a suggestion that maybe his partner should maybe consider dropping the weight a little. Not surprisingly, after six months of this competition, they had each put on about 15 pounds of additional muscle. They were both keenly aware of which parts of their bodies made the other jealous. Roger knew that Tom coveted Roger’s arms, which werenow almost an inch larger than Tom’s. Similarly, Tom knew that Roger was obsessed with the pronounced ridges of Tom’s abdominals - partly the result of Tom maintaining a lower body fat level - and the greater fullness of Tom’s chest. They each used every opportunity to draw the other’s attention to those features. For Roger, that meant wearing a lot of sleeveless shirts, and frequently taunting Tom by asking if he wanted to resolve a disagreement by arm wrestling. In response, Tom would use any excuse he could to get rid of his shirt altogether when they were alone, knowing Roger would just stare at Tom’s midsection. Their sex life - although at times tender - was also competitive. Their mutual attraction was overpowering, but both needed to be in control. They quickly mastered manipulating each other’s specific pleasure zones. Tom understood that for Roger having his nipples pinched and sucked could be overwhelming. Roger knew that working the head of Tom’s penis rapidly with his tongue could make Tom shudder in animal ecstasy. They both used this knowledge to taunt each other and coerce each other into surrendering to their preference. Sometimes, however, their games got out of hand and they would need to hide bruises the next day. The excitement of Roger’s first few months as Tom’s lover distracted him from his work for awhile, but Roger was by nature disciplined and focused, and his business was important to him. As demands for his attention at work increased, Roger again began working sixty hours weeks. He religiously made time for his scheduled work outs with Tom, and was always ready to wrestle with Tom in the sheets in the evening, but he had limited availability for impromptu adventures whenever Tom was free and had a whim during the day. Tom, who valued spontaneity and had a lot more free time, found Roger’s routine stifling, and it became the subject on which they had their first arguments. A little over a year after Roger’s divorce, Roger started to feel that his relationship with Tom needed some redirection. Although their physical chemistry remained intense, they otherwise seemed to have less and less to say to each other. Then one day when a work noontime meeting was abruptly cancelled, Roger thought he would stop by the gym to see if Tom might be free for lunch. When he entered the gym floor, he saw Tom across the room working with a new client - a handsome young bodybuilder training for his first contest. Roger stood across the room and silently watched as Tom directed the younger man on how to position his body for best effect in the requisite poses. He listened as Tom complimented his client’s appearance, and even at a distance he could see that the kid was totally infatuated with Tom. Roger realized that for the first time felt jealousy burning inside him, and he left without even letting Tom know he had been there. Later that week, Roger brought Tom an idea that crossed his mind as a means of their sharing a joint endeavor. Roger proposed they become business partners by opening their own gym. Roger would put down the money to buy and upgrade a space that had fallen into disrepair. Tom would run the facility on a day to day basis, hire staff, and conduct his training business. Roger would oversee the books. It took Roger and Tom almost a year to get the facility started, but it quickly became a success. Roger was initially impressed with the job Tom did and the hours he spent running the facility. Within months it became the place in the region for those willng to make personal sacrifices for a physical transformation to join. Roger also couldn’t help but notice that the staff Tom hired consistently almost entirely hunky young men. At times the gym felt like a football lockerroom, except all the players were quarterbacks. No fraternity in the country housed as much beefcake. Besides dedicating himself to running the business, Tom also began investing more time and energy into competing as a body builder. He scheduled to compete in at least two shows a year. He did well enough that within two years he earned the right to call himself a professional body builder. Although Roger could not always attend Tom’s shows because of work responsibilities, he still did his best to keep up with Tom in training, even if he was not going to do the strict dieting. With his competition victories, Tom became even more in demand as a trainer. Despite the gym’s success, its operations were not without tensions. Roger felt that Tom was careless with money - purchasing new equiptment that to Roger appeared to be more flash than substance. He was also irritated by Tom’s carelessness about charging all his clients for his training services. Tom felt that Roger’s criticisms were just about Roger’s need to be controlling, particularly as the business was clearly making money. It was hard to say whether the disagreements about their business were at fault, but after about four years the intensity of the couple’s sexual competition also slowed down. What had been a daily event had gone to several times a week, to possibly once a week. Although it was never discussed, each thought that the other was primarily to blame. Tom had taken a particular interest in the training of a 22 year old bodybuilder named Rand. The young man - six foot, 220 pounds with light brown hair - had remarkable natural symmetry and a face made for photographs. He followed Tom around the gym, lifting whatever Tom told him to lift and eating whatever Tom told him to eat. Rand was making good progress building muscle, and Tom decided he should enter him a regional event in six months. This particular contest was a nonprofessional competition but included a special draw - the winner of the men’s contest would get the opportunity to do a posedown with a guest professional. Tom had agreed to be that guest professional for the posedown. Tom considered it a foregone conclusion that Rand would win the contest. In his mind he had fantasies of the two of them posing alongside each other in front of a screaming crowd. The staff of Tom’s gym was all too aware of the attention Tom was giving Rand. All of the buff young men who worked at the gym considered the chance from time to time to “ride the Boss” to be the job’s best perk. None of them had been required or felt pressure to be one of the Boss’s boytoys, but none of them had put up any resistance when he expressed interest. Indeed, the primary complaint any of them had was not getting enough private time with the Boss. Fortunately for them, the Tom was insatiable and would frequently find time to enjoy one of them in the morning, and another in the afternoon. Or at least he had until Rand appeared. Rand was generally disliked by the staff partly because he was an arrogant jerk, but more because he was now the only person at the gym enjoying the Boss’s sex drive. The week after Tom signed the contract to guest pose at Rand’s first contest, Roger stopped by the gym unexpectedly in the middle of the day to pick up some papers from the business office. When Roger walked into the back office, he found Tom stretched out across the couch with Rand giving a Tom a blow job. “What the fuck! You son of a bitch!” Roger lunged across the room, pushed Rand aside, and pummeled Tom’s square jaw with his right fist as Tom was attempting to get up from the couch. Roger was pulling his left fist back to deliver another pounding to Tom’s face when he felt Rand’s muscular arms wrap around him and pull him back. “Easy old man.” Roger extended his massive arms and easily forced Rand to let go of his grip. Roger spun around and used his arms to give Rand a shove, sending the young bodybuilder stumbling back across the room and falling to the floor on his ass. “Stay out of this pretty boy. I don’t blame you. This is between me and him.” By this time, however, the room was filling with the gym’s beefy staff who had come running when they first heard the shouting. Tom was standing up with his right hand feeling his jaw to see if anything had been broken by Roger’s first. “Calm down, Roger. I’m sorry you found out like this, but you must have known we were over.” “You’re kidding. How long have you been fooling around like this?” Roger looked around the room at nine brawny employees who had pushed their way into the office. “How many of these boys have you been doing?” In fact, as the looks on their faces revealed, the same thought crossed all of their minds - not me lately. “Look Roger, I need someone as dedicated to bodybuilding as I am - and I’m sorry but that’s Rand. You have always kept your distance - not willing to do what it takes, and frankly, you’re not taking care of yourself like you used to - you’re too busy working all the time. I need someone who can motivate me to be my best and keep my interest.” The suggestion that he was no longer hot enough for Tom bit Roger’s pride. He knew he just needed to get out of there. “If you want someone else, that’s your choice. But I’m not looking after your harem anymore. I’ll send you all the paperwork I have on this place by delivery tonight, and my lawyer will send you the terms to buy out my share of the place. You are on your own.” Roger turned, and wall of young muscle surrounding him parted to let him pass as he left the room and the building.

[Roger's Story - Part 1] When Roger woke up on Saturday morning, he decided to do a quick search on his phone for local gyms. He had just moved into the building two weeks ago, and the fact that the building was finishing a complete weight room and work out facility had been a primary draw for his selecting this penthouse - but it was not quite yet available. He had been using a nearby large commercial gym the past two weeks with some new and flashy equipment, but he found the crowds of people there annoying. He located one gym away from the center of the city, and its aged advertising suggested that it would be pretty basic - just what he wanted. It would not surprise anyone who met Roger that he would choose an apartment based on its proximity to a weight room. His muscular build often caused people to stare. What might surprise them, however, was that Roger had not been particularly athletic in his youth. The muscle mass he now carried so naturally had come only after a remarkable change in his life. Roger had met his ex-wife, Dana, while still in college, and they married shortly afterwards. The relationship however quickly cooled off, as Roger worked long hours to get his company started. During that period of his life, Roger had not taken care of himself. His weight ballooned, and his Doctor told him at 30 that he was on the road to an early heart attack. At his doctor’s suggestion, he started eating and began to look for a personal trainer. Roger noticed how a bank representative he frequently dealt with in obtaining funds for his business had made a remarkable physical change. Eventually, Roger summoned the nerve to ask him how he had done so. The guy excitedly told him about a trainer he had been working with for months who had “changed his life.” The trainer’s name was Tom, and he used a smaller private gym in the area. He gave Roger a phone number, and after a week of hesitating, Roger gave the Tom a call and made an appointment. He was impressed by Tom’s friendly and professional manner on the phone. When Roger arrived for their initial consultation, he was shown to a small room near the front of the gym and told that Tom was finishing with a client and would be with him momentarily. When Tom entered the room, Roger knew immediately this musy be the guy. Tom was about 6 foot with dirty blonde hair, a winning smile, and the body one would expect of a heavy weight natural bodybuilder who had won several local competitions. Roger had never seen someone with such a hyper-trophied build close up before, and he had to work at following what Tom was telling him and not be distracted bythe sight of Tom’s gym t-shirt pulled tight across his massive chest, the huge traps around his neck, and the arms with biceps like bowling balls. Roger found the first month of working out with Tom four times a week excruciating. After each session he hurt in places he didn’t even know he had. In addition, Roger found the lengthy cardio that Tom expected him to do on his own to be agonizing, and the diet and supplement routine Tom prescribed left him hungry all the time. Nevertheless, Roger found himself wanting to please Tom, and he stuck it out. After a month, the changes in Roger’s body were noticable, and it gave him motivation to continue the course. Month after month, the pounds of fat were replaced by pounds of muscle. People that Roger had known for years passed him on the street without recognizing him because of the drastic change in his appearance. Several who did recognize him said to him, “your wife must be happy.” In fact, Roger’s relationship with his wife grew distant as Roger filled the hours he was not working with weight lifting with Tom, preparing scrupulously planned meals, and getting extra hours of sleep. After a year, the change in Roger was so great that Tom refused to continue taking Roger’s money for training sessions. Instead, they became regular workout partners. Working out with Tom brought out Roger’s competitive nature, and although he started lifting significantly less than Tom, eventually he was challenging Tom as to who could lift the most for he most reps. By the time they had been workout partners for six months, Roger was carrying as much muscle mass on his frame as Tom, although he was not as cut. Other guys at the gym would stop their workouts to watch these two goliaths pound their way through their sets. After their first year as workout partners, Tom told Roger that he was going to enter a regional competition, and he suggested Roger enter as well. Roger considered but decided that the strain of dieting into low single digits of body fat would interfere too much with his work. Nevertheless, Roger trained with Tom as if they were both competing, and traveled with him to the show. He helped Tom backstage get a final pump and prepare for his posing. When Tom won the heavy weight division, Roger felt as if it were his own triumph. That evening, after a celebratory meal with a few drinks, Roger and Tom walked back to their adjoining rooms talking and laughing about the days events. Roger followed Tom into Tom’s room, teasing Tom that the only reason Tom had won was that Roger hadn’t competed. “Yeah, if you brought those big guns of yours on stage, I probably would have been done for.” In fact, Roger’s arms were now bigger than Tom’s. “No way I would ever go through the hell you’ve been through to get that shredded. You looked great out there, but seriously I don’t know how you managed to not pass out after all that dieting and dehydration.” “You could have done it easily. The changes you made in just two years are incredible. I’m really jealous man. It took me ten years to get where you are. I’m scared to think where you’ll be in two more.” “Thanks Tom, but I couldn’t have done it without you. You changed my life.” “I couldn’t have done today without you, man. Thanks so much.” Tom moved in to give Roger what he took to be a friendly embrace. Roger opened his arms and wrapped them around Tom’s wide back. Their hard muscular chest pressed into each other. Roger felt Tom’s arms reach around Roger’s lower back and pull Roger forcefully into Tom. Even through their shirts, he could feel their pronounced abdominals rub against each other. With firm grips around each other, they stared intently and silently into each other’s eyes for a minute. Then Roger realized that Tom’s face was moving toward his, and suddenly Tom’s lips were pressed against his. With barely a moment’s hesitation, Roger opened his mouth and their tongues met. Roger felt a jolt of electricity through his body and his cock jumped to attention. As they intently explored each other’s mouths, their torsos pressed harder into each other and their hands began to explore each other’s backs. After kissing for several minutes, they eventually awkwardly made their way to the bed. Neither had any experience with another man before. They rolled around in their clothes for some time, mixing wrestling like little boys to be on top of each other with exploring each other’s bodies with their hands and intense kisses. Eventually Tom yanked off his shirt and threw it across the room. Roger followed suit. They tried squeezing each other’s pecs and then sucking each other’s nipples. Soon their pants were discarded like their shirts, and their hands worked each other to orgasm as they lay alongside each other kissing. Tom got out of the bed and brought back a damp towel. Without saying a word, he wiped them both clean and then climbed back into the bed. They slept alongside each other. In the morning, they struggled to make conversation, and with forced laughter agreed that they had been terribly drunk the night before and did not really know what they were doing. The following week after they returned home, Tom told Roger that he needed to give his body a week’s rest after the competition, and that although he would be seeing his clients at the gym, he would not be meeting Roger for their work outs. During the week, Roger attempted to call Tom several times, but Tom neither picked up or returned the call. After five days, Roger stopped by the gym at a time he knew Tom was usually free. As he walked into the gym, he found Tom completing a set of bench presses. “I thought you were taking a week off, what’s up?” Tom stood up and looked around the gym at the members busily engaged in their exercises. “Follow me.” Tom led Roger back to the private room they had their initial consultation. After Roger walked in, he closed the door behind him. As he turned, he realized Tom was moving toward him. Tom’s hands grabbed Roger’s shoulders and pushed his back against the door. Tom pressed himself into Roger, his hands grabbing both of Roger’s wrists and pinning them against the door. Tom then brought his lips against Roger’s lips. Roger resisted for a few seconds, attempting to push Tom back, but then opened his lips and allowed Tom in. After several minutes of intense kissing, Tom pulled his head back to get his breath. He let go of his grip on Roger’s wrist. They stared silently into each other’s eyes for a few moments. Tom finally spoke. “I have thought of doing that constantly since we got back. I understand if it's not what you want. But when you walked in here I knew just telling you wasn’t enough.” They stood silently looking at each other for a minute. Tom started to turn to walk away. He felt Roger’s left hand grab him by the shoulder. As he turned back to Roger, he felt Roger’s hand reach around the back of Tom’s head, directing his face once again toward Roger’s face. As their lips again made contact, he felt Roger’s muscular right arm reach down behind his lower back, and then Roger’s hand squeezing Tom’s left butt-cheek, pulling Tom ‘s hips close against Roger’s. Tom’s arms slid under Roger’s arms as he pulled their upper bodies tight together. After several minutes, Roger released his hold on the back of Tom’s head, and Tom moved slightly back so they could talk. Roger spoke first. “Cancel all your appointments for the rest of the day.”

After returning home, Ben had a restless night, most of which he spent thinking about Roger. Ben had to admit that he really liked Roger - he was intelligent, outgoing and upbeat. When they talked, he could tell Roger was really paying attention. But it unnerved him the way that Roger seemed to be able to take control of him. It was still hard for Ben to grasp that he had spent an evening lying alongside Roger, saying nothing while Roger stroked his abs, and then agreeing to take off his shirt so Roger could massage his pecs. Ben was at a loss for why he had gone along. There was something about Roger’s physical presence, so imposing and yet so inviting at the same time. Ben wanted to talk about it with someone, but he couldn’t imagine telling any of his friends that he engaged in such physical closeness with a guy he had met just the morning before, let alone a guy more than twice his age. That morning Ben went for his usual Sunday morning six mile run, but he changed his route so that he would pass Roger’s building. As he approached, he began sprinting at full speed, so that when he was directly across the street, he was winded and prepared to stop and catch his breath. As he gulped in air, he stared up at the upper floors, trying to pick out Roger’s balcony. After he returned to his apartment, Ben took a shower. Stepping out of the shower, he stared at his naked body in the steamy mirror. He remembered looking at himself yesterday evening, flexing, and being impressed with himself. Now, for some reason, he thought that while he was clearly lean, he really could use some additional mass. The thought also crossed his mind that now, for the first time in a long time, he knew someone in better condition than himself. After putting on some clothes, Ben sat down at his laptop. He decided to google Roger and see if there was anything worth knowing about his new acquaintance. Most of the results pertained to Roger’s software company, although one link provided Ben the address of Roger’s apartment in his former city. He also found a link to a picture of Roger at a charitable fundraiser two years ago at his former city. Roger was wearing a tuxedo. Alongside him was an unidentifed smiling handsome blonde man in a tuxedo who appeared to have shoulders just about as wide as Roger’s. Ben wondered if there was some relationship between them. After a half hour of looking over the links and finding little except information about Roger’s company and its sale, Ben closed the laptop. He felt a little embarrassed about having researched Roger. He put the thought aside and went on with his plans for the day, specifically to do some shopping and then to meet some buddies at a sports bar to watch a game. That night, Ben dreamed that he was working out with Roger again. They were doing bicep curls with a straight bar. Ben watched Roger do a set with perfect form with 45 pound weights on either side of the bar. Roger’s biceps bulged like large coconuts each time as the bar came up to his chest. When the set was over, Roger raised his right arm to his side and flexed, pulling his hand in toward his head, causing the huge bicep to peak. “You want to feel? Since we met you’ve been staring at my arms.” Ben hesitated at first, but Roger was right. As hard as it was to admit, Ben found that mountain of muscle irresistible. His outstretched right hand grabbed ahold of Roger’s upper arm, and tried to squeeze but the bicep’s hardness didn’t budge. Suddenly, Ben’s left hand was also in on the action, exploring the size and density of Roger’s arm. “You like?” “I like a lot.” Ben started to feel embarrassed by the realization that he was oggling Roger’s big muscles like a four year old with a circus strong man. He pulled back his hands and started to look away. “Thanks for the show, Roger, maybe I should be going.” “Not on your life. My turn.” “What?” “Come on show me your best flex.” “No, Roger, mine are nothing compared to you.” “I’ll be the judge of that. Come on, arms up.” Ben hesitantly lifted both his arms to his side and moved his hands to his head to show his biceps. “Oh come one, you can do better than that..” Standing inches in front of Ben, Roger’s arms reached out at either side and his hands encircled both of Ben’s clenched hands as he moved Ben’s arms into place for a double-bicep pose. “Come on, stud, tense. Let me see what you got.” The closeness of Roger’s incredible muscularity started to make Ben a little weak in the knees. Even as Roger manipulated Ben’s arm to heighten his bicep’s peak, Ben couldn’t help watching the bulging mounds in Roger’s arms. What Ben displayed was impressive, but it was like comparing a baseball to a volleyball. Nevertheless, Ben did his best to tense his arms to come as close to Roger’s show as he could. Roger now stood directly in front of Ben, with a hand firmly grasping each of Ben’s wrists, applying pressure to reinforce the tension Ben in Ben’s arms. With a pleased grin, Rogers’s head moved from side to side as he assessed Ben’s efforts. “Yeah guy, that’s nice. Show Daddy some muscle.” Ben was startled by Roger’s words, but held his position as best he could as Roger’s hands let go of heir grasp of Ben’s wrist and moved gradually down Ben’s arms, feeling the stress of the flexed muscles. When he got to Ben’s biceps, his fingers stretched out as if attempting to measure their girth. “Big and hard, just the way I like em. Not as big and hard as mine, but still nice” Ben felt Roger’s hands continue to move down Ben’s flexed arms and then up the back of Ben’s shoulders until they were behind Ben’s back grabbing the back of Ben’s shoulders. Suddenly Roger used his hold on Ben’s shoulders to pull Ben in toward him. Their chests pressed into each other. Ben looked into Roger’s grinning face, now just inches away from his. “I got you finally.” Ben felt Roger’s hands drop down behind Ben’s back and grab and squeeze each of Ben’s butt cheeks. Roger’s powerful arms pulled Ben’s crotch hard against Roger’s mid section, almost lifting Ben off the ground. Ben could feel Roger’s hard cock pressing against Ben’s lower abs. Ben felt a moment of panic at being held in the grip of a determined larger and more powerful man. “Relax Ben, you know you want this.” Ben then felt Roger’s lips pressing against is own. However, rather than resist, Ben’s arms as if not under his control, reached around Roger and pulled their upper bodies tighter together, and his hips began to push against’s Roger’s hips. Ben’s lips slowly began to open. Ben woke up suddenly, feeling the jolt of a sudden forceful ejaculation.

Ben had never seen the version of the film Casino Royale in which Daniel Craig first played James Bond. As Roger had a copy on disk, and it was one of his favorite films, he wanted Ben to see it. Ben sat down on the middle of the couch. After getting the disk into his DVD player, Roger got them two more beers, and then sat alongside Ben on his right. As the movie started, Roger used a remote to dim the room lights. They clinked bottles. As Ben took a swig, he saw Roger looking at him smiling. Roger then leaned back and stretched his arms out across the top of the couch. Ben's heart beat picked up a notch as he thought about Roger's pumped up bicep stretched out immediately behind him. There was no way he was going to be able to concentrate on this movie. Nevertheless, he followed Roger’s lead and also leaned back so that the back of his head was resting just underneath Roger’s left arm. After about ten minutes, Roger used the remote to put the movie on hold, and turned to Ben. “I’d like to stretch out a little, Ben. Would you mind doing that with me?” The request took Ben by surprise as he was unsure what Roger meant by “doing it with him” but he didn’t see any reason why he would object.” “Sure, what do you have in mind?” “Take your shoes off and get up for a minute.” Ben sat up took his shoes off and stood up. As he stood, Roger pushed some cushions against the side of the couch and then moved his head down toward them as he moved his legs up onto the couch behind Ben. “Okay, come on back down.” As Ben hesitantly started to sit down on the couch in front of Roger, he felt Roger grab him by the shoulder and pull his upper body down toward the side of the couch where Roger’s head rested on the cushions. “Now bring your legs up by mine.” Still unsure what was going on, Ben moved his legs onto the couch so that he was stretched out alongside Roger, Ben’s shoulder’s resting against the hard mounds of Roger’s chest, both of them facing the television. Roger draped his large left arm casually across Ben’s side. “This okay with you Ben?” Ben had not expected that Roger would want to spoon. Although he did not remember lying alongside another guy on a sofa since he had done so with his brother as a child, Ben had seen fraternity brothers at college together in comparable poses. He had always taken such physical closeness as just an expression of friendship. Even though he had just met Roger that morning, Ben thought that since Roger had moved to the area recently, perhaps he was just treating Ben like some friend he was missing. “Sure, it’s fine.” “Are you sure? I am a physical guy, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” “No, really, I like being with you.” “Feeling is mutual, buddy.” Roger’s left hand reached down and gave Ben a light squeeze on his thigh, while Roger’s right hand used the remote to start the movie again. As it began, Ben felt Roger’s body lean into him, and he tried his best as he watched the film not to let his eyes shift into staring at the huge arm resting on top of him. Despite the initial strangeness of finding himself resting alongside a middle-aged adonis, Ben finally did begin to relax. There was something pleasurable in feeling Roger’s solid bulk next to him. Without even realizing it,Ben started leaning back into Roger who responded with a quiet “mmmm.” Midway through the film a scene on a beach started. Roger nudged Ben on the shoulder. “I love this part.” The camera moved to James Bond gradually emerging out of the water in a speedo, the camera taking its time in scanning his lean and muscular physique. There was no doubt he was in exceptional condition for a guy in his forties, but as Ben watched, he thought that Roger would look far better in a speedo. Midway through the scene, Ben felt Roger’s hand rubbing the section of Ben’s shirt covering his abdominals. “You know, Ben, I bet you have much better abs than he does.” “Yeah, well I wish I got paid as much for em.” “I guess you’re just not selling to the right market.” Ben wasn’t sure what that meant, but didn’t respond. Roger’s hand ceased stroking Ben’s abs, and they just watched the rest of the movie lying next to each other, both cheering the action scenes. During one scene in which one of Bond’s nemesis met a violent end, Roger pumped his fist in the area. Ben felt a jump inside himself as he watched Roger’s bicep bulge close up. As the credits rolled, they just lay alongside each other silently, and remained that way for a minute or two after the end of the film. Then Ben felt Roger giving him a tap on his chest. “I wish we could stay like this all night but probably not a good idea. I have a flight for a business trip in the morning” As Roger started to raise himself up, he gave Ben’s pec a little squeeze, and saw a grimace shoot across Ben’s face. “Buddy, are you sore there from this morning’s workout?” Ben hated to admit it, but as the evening had gone on, he was feeling more delayed in his chest resulting from the grueling work out Roger had led him through that morning. “Yeah, a bit.” “I know what to do that. Take off your shirt.” Roger got off the couch and walked to another room. Ben yelled out to him: “What? No .. . “ “Guy, no reason for a guy built like you to hesitate taking off his shirt. Go on.” Ben found it hard to say no to Roger. He leaned his upper body up off the couch and took off his shirt, then tossed it to the side of the couch. Roger came back to the couch with a small plastic bottle in his hand. Roger moved himself back onto the couch so that he was standing on his knees on the coach facing Ben with a leg on either side of Ben torso right above his hips. He looked down a Ben lying shirtless on the couch beneath him. “Damn, that’s one well built chest. I wish I had looked like that at your age.” Ben looked up at the Atlas in a red polo shirt towering over him and thought there must be a twenty inch drop from his chest to his waist. “You more than caught up.” Roger gave him a little grin, then leaned down and squirted some goo out of the plastic bottle into the deep crevice between Ben’s pecs. Roger put a little of the goo from the bottle on his hands, then put the bottle aside on the top of the couch. He looked down grinning at Ben as he rubbed his hands together with the goo. As he did so, Ben couldn’t help noticing the movement of muscles bouncing across Roger’s arms. “That’s just some warming massage cream. As I work it in, you’ll feel a little heat.” Ben held his breath as he watched Roger’s hands move toward him and lightly touch either side of his chest. Roger’s fingers moved across the top of Ben’s chest toward the middle, and then down into the sternum, getting a coating of the cream, and then working their way back out, pushing into the thick cords of muscle. “You feel the warming.” “Yeah, a bit.” “Am I pressing too hard?” “No, just right.” In truth, Roger’s strong fingers working their way into the muscles Ben had strained that morning trying to keep up with Roger hurt quite a bit. However, Ben’s pride was not going to let him suggest to Roger he wasn’t man enough to take it. Moreover, the pain was a helpful distraction from the hard on that Ben was trying to pretend he wasn’t having. “Let me work it a different way.” Roger began pushing up from the bottom of Ben’s pecs with his palms. “That feels good.” “Great, cause that’s how I want you to feel.” Roger spent the next ten minutes intently using his hands to manipulate Ben’s chest from every angle. As much as Ben enjoyed the sensation of Roger working his muscles, he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the recognition of his own arousal. He had met Roger only about twelve hours ago. Now this guy more than twice his age was causing Ben to want a man’s attention in a way he had never wanted it before. It was as if Roger had his own gravity pulling Ben into him. It was time he got some distance. “Roger, thanks, but I better get going. You have a flight in the morning, remember.” “I was just about to have you turn over so I could work your shoulders.” “Another time, perhaps.” Roger reached his fingers out and gave Ben’s pecs a final squeeze. “Okay, you’re right. I do need to grab a few hours sleep before the morning.” Roger shifted himself off the couch and stood aside as Ben got up and put on his shoes and shirt. “By the way, they are finally ready to open the building’s weight room this week. I get back from my trip Tuesday evening. Any interest in doing a leg work out with me Wednesday after work?” In spite of the discomfort he had been feeling, Ben had learned a lot working out with Roger than morning. A gym buddy relationship was probably a good direction to take this. “Sure, what time?” “Can you meet me in the lobby at 6:30?” “You got it.” “Great. Bring a weight belt. We’re doing squats.” Ben followed Roger to the apartment door. Roger opened the door and turned to Ben. “Thanks for spending your Saturday evening with the old guy who’s new to town.” “Your hardly an “old guy” Roger. Thanks for everything. You place is incredible.” “I’m glad you like it, and hope you’ll be spending some more time here.” “I’ll see you Wednesday.” “Take care, Buddy.” Roger put his hand up to high-five Ben as he walked out. As Ben’s hand met Roger’s, Ben couldn’t help but once again be impressed by the bulk of Roger’s arms. Ben heard he door close behind him as he walked to the elevator. When he reached the elevator, Ben turned, looked at Roger’s closed door, and, for what seemed like the first time in hours, exhaled. What the hell was happening to him?