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Bitten by the Growth Bug

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A few weeks have gone by. The first gym with Mark was a success, or at least you thought so at first. You wore a tanktop that showed off your pecs, the notched valley between them, and a pair of shorts that flattered your assets, so to speak. Not that you needed to reel this fish in - he was well and landed - but you wanted to see the look on Mark's face as you got a pump, when veins started to coil their way down your hairy 17" arms, when your already bubbly butt inflated further, rounder, pulling the fabric of your shorts taut.

Well. You thought you didn't need to reel this fish in. After the workout, you introduced him to your trainer buddy Ryan. Got him set up with a package of 20 sessions. Then - right when you thought you'd seal the deal, when you were about to fulfill the erotic promise of months of glances and office flirtation - Mark seemed to get cold feet. He turned down an invitation back to your place. Fair enough, some guys don't move that fast. But, despite swapping phone numbers, there were no texts from him in the days after, no flirty messages, nothing.

You're not the type of guy to chase after someone, especially not a skinny twink, no matter how cute, or how nice his ass. So you don't text him, either. Days turn into weeks. You don't see him in the awful food court at your work anymore, either. You actually start to worry. Is he avoiding you? Did you come on too strong - freak him out, maybe? Some people can't take the raw animal sexuality, but, well, you were pretty sure he was digging your vibe....

Eventually you message Ryan, your trainer buddy, the guy who was supposed to be training Mark. 

"Hey Ry, that guy Mark ever come back for any of his sessions?"

"Derek, buddy, he's an animal, I just re-upped him. I've never seen a newbie take to the weights like this. He's here every night. I told him to take the weekends off, but I caught the little bastard in here last Saturday, doing bicep curls in the corner like I wouldn't notice him."

You always lift in the morning before work. So your paths would never cross. A twinge of something - is it jealousy? but what are you jealous of? - stirs in your chest. "So he's making progress?," you text back.

"Blowing up like a balloon. I tell him not to get used to it, it's just newbie gains."

Your cock throbs in your work pants despite yourself. You want to see this cute twink "blowing up like a balloon." To be honest, you still want to nail him to your mattress with your cock. You tell yourself to cool it. You can have a different guy every night of the week if you want to - it's easy for you. 

Still, though.

Once again, Mark is a no-show in the food court where you always used to see him. Your shitty grilled chicken pita with extra chicken that you eat every day tastes especially bland and styrofoam-like, and the blue-white flourescent lights make all the other office drones look ghoulish.

After work, you go to the gym, despite having already done your workout that morning.

He's there, executing perfect squats, Ryan standing back and watching, nodding. He's only got 195 lbs across his back, but, well, he was squatting an empty bar three weeks ago...

"Derek!" Ryan calls out across the gym floor, performing the loud exuberant jock. Mark turns in your direction, flushed, dripping, breath heaving. 

He's definitely thicker. His t-shirt is definitely hanging on him in a different way, pushed out a little by budding pecs, clinging a little on baby delts. He grins at you like everything's cool. The stupid thing is, any sourness you felt melts away at that smile. He's so enthusiastic, so clearly happy to be here, to be ground into a thin paste by Ryan's famously punishing leg workouts.

Ryan looks at his charge. "Wipe that smile off your face, buddy, you've still got two sets left." He glances at his phone. "Fifteen seconds until go time. Get your ass ready."

You stand and watch the next two sets, done rapidly, with minimal rest. Mark's already nice butt has definitely added some meat to it. And his lats are just gently pushing out the sides of his t-shirt in a way they didn't before. For the sake of propriety, you take a spot on an elliptical and do some steady state cardio, low and slow, watching the rest of Mark's workout unfold. He really is an animal, like Ryan said. Never hesitating to dive into a set, running at the proverbial wall each time. Not holding anything back.

You remember having that intensity when you started lifting, when everything about the gym was new and exciting and you couldn't wait to get huge... you wonder what happened to it. You love the gym, yeah, of course, but it's a steady sort of flame, warm, not hot. You're committed but not... lustful for growth, the way Mark is.

When he's done he comes over. Panting, chest heaving. Cloudy drops of sweat collecting on his cute little nose, on his chin, splashing on the black rubber floor. 

"I don't see you at lunch anymore," you say. It isn't what you meant to lead with. It makes you sound needy. Desperate, even. Why the fuck is this little guy - and he is still a little guy, despite these impressive newbie gains - why is this little guy putting you off guard so much?

"I'm surprised I ever saw you at lunch, big man. Ryan has me on a meal plan. I tupperware it every day. Two lunches, 11:00 and 2:00. I just work through the noon hour now."

You grunt. It's true. You've let your meal prep slide. You used to be on the tupperware brigade. You used to be one of those guys who ate multiple meals at odd times, occasionally attracting a stare or a remark from a coworker. What happened? A little voice inside. How long have you been stuck at 205, 210....? Had you become... complacent? Had you stopped pushing? Were your abs blurrier than they used to be? Your arms a little smaller?

"You're looking bigger," you say, to change the topic.

"Heh, yeah!" Mark grins, unable to mask his enthusiasm. "I'm up 18 lbs."

"18 lbs!" you squawk before you can stop yourself. You do the math. It's been... 24 days. "Mark, that's..."

"Yeah, Ryan tells me it's exceptional. 155 lbs to 173 lbs. He says it's gonna slow down real soon. I hope not, though. I love it." His grin widens. "Thanks so much for introducing me to the gym, Derek. I should have started this years ago." He sniffs, as if suddenly noticing a bad smell. He leans his face toward his right armpit and inhales more deeply. "Woah, I'm ripe, I should get out of here. I'll see you around, big guy."

And with that he was gone, gone before you could embarrass yourself further with some stupid remark. Some remark like "text me!"

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Awesome! I hope Mark keeps up the rapid growth pace. Derek also seemed to realize his motivation and intensity had been lacking.  Maybe he will pick it up and start some growth too.  It's amazing what a little competition and jealousy can do!

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I just have to bump this back onto the first page! I hope there's more to come soon.  It's only been a couple of weeks since the latest installment, but it seems like an eternity when you're reading a story you really like.  Darn that real life! I hope you get the chance to add more sometime in the near future. Happy New Year!



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Darn it, Mikey, stop trying to make the fantasy real for yourself, and write some more smut for us! ;) That's my cheesy way of saying I found your YouTube channel, and you really do have a great body and super sexy voice. But since this has been bumped back up to the first page, I thought I would add again, that I really hope you find time to add to this awesome story... in your downtime from becoming a muscle god yourself of course!

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Hey, thanks. Yup, priority #1 is making the fantasy into reality. But I've got this little story all plotted out in my head, I promise I'll come back to it.

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