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  1. pasidious

    I Grew Big: How It Started - Part 2

    Part 1 I looked like a damn fool. Or at least felt like one. I'd swear people were staring at me. I was walking back to my dorm after my first attempt at a real workout. Jack, the dude I only just met who's already proven to be a kind friend, worked me hard, although he seems to believe it was all me; that I was only pushing myself and he had nothing to do with how hard I worked. We had to agree to disagree on that one. I remember smiling big, though, as we walked out of the campus gym together. I'd felt accomplished. I felt more proud of the work I'd put in there than on any piece of school work I'd ever completed. Jack wanted to go straight to the cafeteria, but I looked like a hobo. I needed to go shower and get new clothes. I couldn't help but admit that even after working out, Jack looked good. He had a very clear athlete appearance to him, and no one could say his body wasn't aesthetically pleasing. His hair was a bit messed up thanks to his sweat, but it gave him that messy just-out-of-bed look and it was... cute, to say the least. I keep using the term "walk" in one tense or another. I wasn't exactly walking, which is probably part of why I kept getting looks from passers by. I was more like... hobbling. Or staggering. My legs were in pain. Jack showed me all kinds of leg exercises, and I pushed myself to not only learn every single one, but I worked hard with each one as well. "Never ever skip legs, bro," he said, "Trust me." Jack said I definitely worked harder than he did on his first night. But there was also my weird appearance. My jeans were still rolled up so my legs were exposed to the cold outside air, and my sweater was still wet with my sweat, while I carried my jacket in one arm. I must've looked like a weirdo. But I didn't really care, because I knew the end results would be worth it. They can stare all they want at me. They can watch me get bigger. Yeah, I'd say I was actually bitten by that iron bug. My mind was so focused on everything having to do with weight-lifting. But, part of me was also worried that I'd wake up the next day and find that I'd lost all the motivation and never try again. It was quite a tempest of thoughts in my head, and what surprised me was how none of it was about school work. I really just wanted to get back to the dorm so I could shower and then go eat. I really needed to get out of these clothes. Jack said I needed to make sure I ate as much as possible. Growing required food and lots of it. I basically tripped my way through the front doors of the dormitory, and then dragged myself up the stairs using the hand rails. I was thankful my dorm room was only on the second floor. I felt so done with moving when I finally got to my door, and I basically fell right to the floor as soon as I entered the room. But I also think I was being a little dramatic. I moved my way onto my bed and just sat there for a bit, staring into space, letting my legs regain feeling. They were throbbing, and had that burning feeling that hurt but felt so good at the same time. I imagined this is what a lot of gym rats meant when they talked about that "burn" and "feeling it." I was glad my roommate was still out. I didn't want to have to go on some explanation marathon about what just took place at the campus gym and why I was there. I oozed off the bed and put weight back on my legs and began removing my clothes. I lifted my sweater over my head and tossed it into the hamper, and then carefully peeled my jeans off my legs, the sweat making them feel stuck. My boxers were wet, too. Not a very comfortable feeling. In the hamper they went, too. I grabbed a towel and put it around my waist and snuck my way down the hall and into the showers. Luckily people weren't too active at this time, and I still wasn't comfortable showing my naked torso to others. I usually showered at less busy times of the day to avoid being seen. As of right now, I'd say the only person by whom I was comfortable being seen was Jack, which is still odd to me since I only just met him. Fuck. The shower felt good. I made it as hot as I could stand it. I stood there for a good while just letting the hot water run over my body. I didn't move. I had one hand on the wall and just leaned there, and it felt so good. But eventually I had to actually clean myself and get moving, since Jack was waiting for me. Or at least I hoped he was. He said he was. But then again, I can't say I'd blame him if he moved on to the rest of his day. I grabbed my towel and quickly dried myself off. My hair was a mess, but I didn't care. I checked to see if the coast was clear and moved as quickly as my legs would allow me to back to my dorm room. I re-entered the room, noticing my roommate was still not back, and dropped my towel. I had a mirror on my closet door, and I couldn't help but stand in front of it and check myself out. Yeah, I know, it's a dumb thing to do. I wasn't actually expecting my muscles to be any bigger. But I liked imagining it. I liked envisioning myself with bigger muscles all over. I never knew how much I was enticed by the idea of getting bigger until today. I was so scorned, I guess, by the douchebags from high school who'd used their growing bodies to intimidate and humiliate and bully that I'd never once considered the idea of making my own body bigger. But then I met this dude named Jack. I wondered to myself what I'd look like a month from now. Still in front of the mirror, I tried to imagine my body with maybe about 10 pounds of muscle added. I saw abs, and pecs protruding from my chest. I ran my hand across my chest, imagining how it'd feel to have hard muscle mounds there. As I bent my arm, I imagined what it'd be like to have a big bicep bulging out. I imagined what it'd be like to be able to fill a shirt sleeve with my entire arm, no space to spare. I imagined what it'd be like to be able to lift my shirt, showing my abs, and making girls swoon... and guys. It wasn't at all lost on me that as I pictured myself with muscles, my dick was hardening up and growing. I saw it expanding and rising in the mirror as I stood there completely naked. I was definitely getting into the mindset of being a gym rat. I raised my arms and flexed a double bicep pose for myself, showing what little muscle I had in my arms. I didn't care that I was still the same skinny guy as I was before, it just felt good to flex. My cock throbbed as I flexed. I reached one hand over and ran it across my flexed arm. It felt hard. I had no way of really knowing for sure, and it wasn't lost on me that I was probably just imagining it, but my arm definitely felt harder than it ever did before. I kept my arm flexed, looking into the mirror, and I continued imagining what it'd be like to have bigger muscles. My free hand moved down to my throbbing dick and began stroking. God it felt good. Actually, my dick felt harder than ever before, and I was almost certain it was because of the exercise I'd just put my body through. I imagined being big enough to flex my arm and make my sleeve rip in one of my old shirts. My cock throbbed hard on that thought, and my hips involuntarily bucked. FUCK. The feeling was so intense, and I felt like my eyes would roll back into my head permanently. I then thought back to when Jack flexed his arm for me and let me feel it. I remembered how hard it was, and how he had this thick vein running across the peak, and how his forearm was also clearly thick with muscle. I wanted to touch his entire body as he flexed for me... FUCK FUCK FUCK I was cumming! An image of Jack completely naked and flexing popped into my head and my dick just exploded all over the mirror, splattering it. I kept stroking, squeezing every last throbbing jolt of pleasure I could out, and I noticed I'd shot 4 whole times, with a 5th almost-shot that was really just a bit of dribble. I'd never cum so much before. I checked the time and realized it'd been way too long since we parted ways, and I felt like an asshole. Jack said he'd wait for me, and we never bothered to exchange numbers. If he was even still there, he'd probably be pissed. I quickly grabbed my sweater and used it to clean off the remnants of my orgasm from my dick and threw on some clothes. I put my shoes on and ran out the door, rushing and hoping Jack didn't get too impatient and eat without me. I didn't even realize I'd just shot cum all over my mirror and left it there.
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