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Have You Seen These Posing Trunks?


muscleaddict

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23 hours ago, Ro20316 said:

The story keeps moving and every chapter it's amazing on their own

Thanks for the feedback! :D The focus moves away from the posing trunks a little for the rest of the story but they're still an integral part of Oscar's adventure!

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  • 2 weeks later...

Monday July 17th

Dear Muscle Diary,

Well, diary, It's been five days since my last visit to the laundrette and almost all of my thoughts are still occupied by two things;

1. The super shiny, brilliantly blue posing trunks I found sitting amongst my washing in the tumble dryer, now filled up with my muscle loving spunk (blush)!

2. The original owner of said posing trunks who was part responsible for them being filled up with my muscle loving spunk and whose Instagram profile I've been regularly checking since Saturday night; Liam “The Guns” Watson!

So you might think I'm slightly bonkers when I make this confession, but now that I've actually put the trunks on (and shot a massive load of spunk into them - ker-SPLAT!), I keep fantasising about wearing them out in public! Obviously not just wearing the posing trunks (I’m pretty sure I’d either get arrested, or carted off to the nearest nut house) but wearing them under my jeans.

I don't know why but the idea of walking around my local Tesco with the obscenely shiny fabric of a pair of posers clinging to my arse under my jeans really appeals to me! As does wearing them under my trackies at the gym. Using the leg press or pumping up my biceps with my dick tucked into the blue poser material. Or even (and this is the craziest idea of the lot), wearing them to work! Shaking hands with a client, who has absolutely no idea that, underneath my smartest suit trousers, lies the obscenely shiny trunks of a huge, roided bodybuilder! Going to the toilets, unzipping the flies and being greeted with the sight of that bright blue poser material! FUCK!!

And, as much as I love Liam's posers, I can't stop thinking about how much I'd love to own another pair. Just as shiny as the ones I have, but a different colour. Maybe I'd go for red, like the ones in the Instagram shot of Liam flexing his biceps. Or maybe something more adventurous. Bright pink. Or glittery gold! Maybe I'll buy a couple of pairs and build up a collection. Maybe I’ll make it my personal mission to have a pair of posing trunks from each colour of the rainbow. A different pair to wear and spunk in for every day of the week. Slurp, squirt, SPLAT!

And as for Liam himself? Well, I just can't comprehend the fact that there's a bodybuilder who is that huge and gorgeous living in Brighton, and presumably not that far away from me if we share the same launderette, who I've seen in the flesh, and who's posers I've fucking SPUNKED in! And with the posing trunks, we'll always have this awesome, special link (even if he does not know it)!

Since finding him on Instagram on Saturday night, pretty much the first thing I did when I woke up on Sunday morning was check out his profile again. He looked just as huge, just as gorgeous and just as fucking spunk-worthy in the cold (and sober) light of day.

Since then he's been regularly posting new pictures. More shots of him hitting various poses at home in front of the Pumping Iron poster, and even a few pictures of him flexing at the infamous Deano’s Gym.

Even more amazing and horny is the fact than in almost every new picture posted he's wearing a DIFFERENT pair of posers! FUCK!! Purple, bright orange and emerald green trunks have all made an appearance. All super shiny. And all incredibly horny. Which begs the question; just how many fucking pairs of posing trunks does Liam “The Guns” Watson own?! And where, and how, can I get my greedy mitts on another one of them? SLURP!!

Yours,

Oscar Grimes (possible future owner of more pairs of tiny, shiny posing trunks!)

Tuesday July 18th

Dear Muscle Diary,

So, tomorrow night is laundry night, and exactly one week since I saw local bodybuilder Liam “The Guns” Watson and found a pair of his posing trunks amongst my washing.

I'm actually kind of nervous. It's not just that I feel like I'm returning to the scene of a crime, but also because I'll be returning with the spunked up posing trunks in my wash bag. I've also had a terrifying thought; what if Liam is at the laundrette again?

I mean, on one hand, that would be fucking AWESOME because I'd absolutely love to see the gorgeous muscle bull whose Instagram profile I've been regularly checking since creaming a load over on Saturday in the flesh again. But, on the other hand, seeing him again and just knowing that I was in possession of his trunks, which I’ve fucking SPUNKED in, would make me feel incredibly nervous! I'd probably turn into a quivering mess.

And what if (and this is my biggest fear, diary), he's not only there, but also, somehow sees his missing posing trunks in amongst my washing?

I have this image of myself sitting on one of the benches in the laundrette waiting for my washing to finish, eagerly and nervously checking the door to see if Liam has walked in.

The washing then finishes and I'm putting my clothes into the basket ready for the tumble dryer, but ooooops, I accidentally drop the shiny blue posers on the floor, just as Liam Watson walks through the door. FUCK!

Maybe I should go to another launderette? Maybe I shouldn't take the posers, even though I really want them washed so I can wear (and then shoot another fucking load into) them again? ARRRGHHH!!

Yours,

Oscar Grimes (self confessed perpetual worrier!)

Wednesday July 19th

Dear Muscle Diary,

Oh. My. ACTUAL. Fucking. Buggering. GOD!

I'm starting to wonder whether I'll ever have a non eventful night at that bloody launderette! You will not fucking BELIEVE what's happened now.

Nope, Liam didn't catch me washing his missing posing trunks. And no, he didn't accidentally leave anther pair of shiny as shit posing trunks in a washing machine for me to find and keep.

Thankfully, Liam wasn't at the launderette tonight. But I know for a fact that he had been there since his visit last Wednesday. Let me explain, diary.

With my washing in the machine (creamed up posing trunks included - SLURP!), I sat in my usual spot on the bench by the door. I turned to look at it, half wishing Liam “The Guns” Watson would come waddling through the frame in his Deano’s Gym hoodie, half hoping he wouldn’t, and that’s when I saw it.

Something was pinned to the notice board on the wall of the launderette which made me heart leap into my throat and my eyes almost pop clean out of their sockets. Barely able to believe what I was seeing, I nervously stood up and walked towards the notice board to examine it.

Stuck to the board was a poster. At the top sat six words I never imagined I'd see put together; “HAVE YOU SEEN THESE POSING TRUNKS?” Below them sat text which read, “IF FOUND CALL” followed by a phone number.

And in the middle of the poster sat a picture of the most beautifully shiny, brilliantly posing trunks you could ever hope to see. The exact same posers I’d found amongst my washing exactly one week ago today. The exact same posers I'd sniffed, tried on, obsessed about and blew a huge creamy load in four nights before. The posing trunks of Liam “The Guns” Watson, who apparently is so desperate to have them back he's erected a poster in the fucking launderette, and supplied his phone number!

As I tried to comprehend exactly what the hell was happening, a middle aged man sidled up next to me. I looked over to see him examining the poster. He screwed his face up in confusion, then raised one eyebrow and looked at me, as if to say, “What the ACTUAL fuck?!” to which I nervously smiled and furiously blushed.

I sat back down on the bench, trying to take it all in. Liam wants his posers back. I could see Liam again in person! I could phone him (fuck!), go to his house (FUCK!), actually talk to him in person (OHGODOHGODOHGOD). But that would mean giving the trunks back. The trunks I love so much.

I looked at the poster from the bench once more and looked at the words at the top. Have I seen those posing trunks? Hmmm. Seen ‘em? Yep! Sniffed ‘em? YEP! Spunked a huge creamy load in ‘em? YEP YEP YEP!

And then I saw the number again. The phone number of Liam Watson, local muscle God, beef monster and spunk inducer extraordinaire!

Whatever my decision, I wouldn't get anywhere without that number. I waited for my washing to finish, and as I headed out the door, I stopped once more at the notice board and nervously got out my phone.

Pretending I was looking at a flyer just beneath it, I tapped Liam’s number into my contacts, before leaving the launderette with the freshly cleaned trunks in my bag, and absolutely no clue what the hell I was going to do next.

Yours,

Oscar Grimes (possessor of Liam “The Guns” Watson’s phone number - FUCKING HELL)!

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Thursday July 20th - 8:00 pm

Dear Muscle Diary,

Just one question; what the actual buggering fuck am I gonna do?

So, last Wednesday night I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about Liam’s posing trunks. Well, last night I couldn't sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about the poster Liam had outrageously (and crazily!) put up in the laundrette asking if anyone had seen them, and just what that means for me.

I have the opportunity to speak to, meet, and converse with the huge, gorgeous bodybuilder I spunked off to on Saturday night while looking at a picture of him blowing up his enormous nickname earning biceps whilst wearing an actual pair of his super shiny posing trunks! FUUUUUCKK!!

But, as much as the idea of meeting Liam excites me, it fucking terrifies me. Even just the initial first contact. Phoning the number he gave on the poster. Actually speaking to him on phone! Oh God! What the fuck would I say?

“Ummm ... hi there. Yeah. I have, well, practically stole your posing trunks, which I fucking SPUNKED in by the way. Whilst looking at a picture of you blowing up your biceps on my laptop.”

OK, so maybe I wouldn't say those EXACT words. But even just the idea of saying the words “posing trunks” out loud to another person (any person) makes me nervous.

And then to actually meet Liam in person, to go to his house, or for him to come here (a huge competitive bodybuilder in my FLAT!), talk to him, converse with him, hand him back his posers ... OH JESUS!!

By the way, diary, is it completely and immorally wrong to give a bodybuilder his trunks back AFTER you've wanked and blown a huge creamy load in them? I put that very question into Google but, strangely, nothing came back. I may be the first person in the history of the universe to face this dilemma.

No. I can't do it. I can't meet a huge, gorgeous, pumped up muscle bull and give him back his shiny, slurp-tastic trunks I came in whilst looking at a picture of him flexing his biceps with his mouth wide open in an outrageously cocky fashion. I just can not do it.

Yours,

Oscar Grimes (nope, can’t do it)

Thursday July 20th - 9:00 pm

Dear Muscle Diary,

I’ve made a decision. I’M GONNA DO IT! I've been thinking about this all evening and I’ve come to this conclusion; the question is not how CAN I meet Liam “The Guns” Watson in person and give him back his missing posing trunks, but how can I fucking NOT?!

I've thought about the pros and cons of both options, and it really comes down which set of cons outweighs the other.

CONS OF MEETING LIAM:

1. I could potentially make a right TIT of myself.
2. I’d be nervous as fucking HELL!
3. I’d lose the shiny blue posing trunks forever.

CONS OF NOT MEETING LIAM:

1. I would miss the this amazing, potentially once in a lifetime opportunity to meet and interact with a real life competitive bodybuilder (and a bloody gorgeous one at that)! And once that opportunity has gone, it will never, ever come back.

And THAT is why I’ve decided ... I have to fucking do is! Yes, I'll lose the trunks. But they were never really mine to begin with. And there are other trunks. TONS of other trunks for me to order, buy and own. But there will be never be another opportunity like this to so easily meet Liam.

And I’m nervous. God, I'm fucking nervous. But I’m excited as hell too. Liam "The Guns" Watson ... the unthinkable is about to happen. I’m about to meet Brighton’s biggest and sexiest roid munching muscle bull, and you’re about to get your missing posing trunks back!

Yours,

Oscar Grimes (I’M BLOODY DOING IT!)

Friday July 21st - 6:30 pm

Dear Muscle Diary,

Oh God. Oh fuck. OH JESUS! I think I’m having a panic attack. I have just got off the phone with ... LIAM “THE FUCKING GUNS” WATSON!!

But there's more. I’m going to his HOUSE! In half a fucking HOUR!! FUUUUUCKKK!! I’m nervous. I’m bricking it. But FUCK I’m excited!!

Well, diary, despite my last entry I've still been deliberating over whether to use Liam’s number and meet up with him all day. Thanks to the Deano’s Gym Facebook page I know he’s competing at the Tiger Bodybuilding Classic in London on Sunday though, so I figured if I didn't act soon, I'd be spending the entire weekend, and probably most of next week too in this state of mental torture, so I told myself it was “now or never“.

I don't think I've ever been so anxious about making a phone call. My heart was pounding as I brought up Liam “The Guns” Watson on my contact list and hovered my finger over the call button.

All that was screaming in my head at that moment was, “I can't do this! I can't fucking do this!”

I dropped the phone on my bed. Relaxed for ten seconds, and then a wave of inspiration hit me. I picked up my phone again, and like a big fucking coward, composed a text message instead.

“Hi Liam. My name’s Oscar. I saw your poster in the launderette and I have your posing trunks.”

I deliberated for a second whether to include a kiss. Maybe even a smiley face emoji. But left it as it was and, heart still pounding, hit send.

The sweeping noise of a sent message sounded from my phone and one single thing went through my head; “FUUUUUUUUCK!” But I was smiling. Like crazy! I couldn't fucking help it. Even just texting Liam was such a fucking rush!

And then something happened which completely wiped the smile off my face and caused my whole body to go into severe panic mode. My phone started ringing. And the name of the caller which appeared on my screen? LIAM “THE GUNS” WATSON!!

I answered the phone. Nervous as HELL. “Hello?”

“Hey! Is that Oscar?” OH JESUS!! Even his voice was HOT!! Deep, smooth, confident, SEXY! My dick started swelling instantly.

“Yeah. Hi!” My voice was trembling slightly but what the fuck do you expect, diary?!

“I just got your text. You have my posers?”

There was a tone of hope in his voice which was adorable as hell.

“Yeah!” I replied. I just couldn't think of anything else to say!

"Where d’ya find ‘em?” Liam asked with a tone of curiosity.

“In the launderette,” I replied. There was a pause and I knew I needed to give Liam more. “They were in with my washing. I think you must have left them in the machine?”

“Oh right,” Liam replied. “HA! Sorry about that mate!”

What the fuck? He’s apologising? He's fucking apologising! That is both adorable and fucking ABSURD! If only he bloody knew what finding a pair of shiny posers from a gorgeous competitive bodybuilder meant to me!

“So, where do you live dude?” As I told him, I had an image of him turning up at my door. Coming into my flat. Following me into my bedroom. A six foot, 200 plus pounds bodybuilder. In my bedroom!

My heart raced further as I told Liam where I lived, and he informed me that his flat was about a fifteen minute walk from mine.

“So ... are you free now?!” Liam asked.

OH JESUS!

“Ummm ... yeah!” I replied.

FUUUUUCK!!

“Any chance you could come round to mine in half an hour?”

WHAT IS THIS LIFE?!

“Sure!” I replied, as casually as I possibly could.

“Awesome!” There was a sudden excitement in his oh-so-sexy voice which was incredibly endearing. He was just a lad who wanted his shiniest posers back. Just a lad who regularly stomped around bodybuilding stages plastered in greasy, glistening, golden tan flexing his ginormous sized nickname earning biceps, twice the size of most men’s heads! And he’s inviting me round to his fucking flat!!

“I'll text you my address. See you in half an hour Oscar!” I don't know why, but hearing him say my name in his insanely sexy voice made me want to melt into my bedroom carpet.

I hung up the phone, and my whole body felt like it was going to combust with excitement.

I fetched Liam’s posing trunks from my drawer and, as I held them in my hands, I felt a twinge of sadness. It was time to say goodbye to the shiny, bright, ridiculously hot blue posing trunks I so fondly loved.

We’ve had some good times together. From the time I found them tangled up amongst my washing in the tumble dryer, to the first time I got them out of my bag at home and ran my fingers through the super shiny material. From the night I wanked off with them placed over my face, feeling the material on my skin and breathing in the fabric to the night I finally put them on for the very first time and blew a huge load of spunk into the shiny pouch whilst looking at a picture of a bodybuilder blowing up his enormous sized biceps.

But now it’s time for a bigger and potentially better adventure, because in half an hour, I’ll be standing on the doorstep of that very fucking bodybuilder’s flat!

Holy. Jesus. Fucking. CHRIST!!

Yours,

Oscar Grimes (soon to be standing in front of local bodybuilder Liam “The Guns” Watson!)

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I love, love, love the way u write. The way u tell the story and how real it de el. I donde myself smiling at the Google search part and when Liam called. 

You are doing a great job and i have a feeling the meeting will go better than expected

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2 hours ago, Ro20316 said:

I love, love, love the way u write. The way u tell the story and how real it de el. I donde myself smiling at the Google search part and when Liam called. 

You are doing a great job and i have a feeling the meeting will go better than expected

Thanks mate! I really appreciate that! :D

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Friday July 21st - 10:00 pm

Dear Muscle Diary,

My name is Oscar Grimes and I'm obsessed with exactly two things; shiny, tiny, brightly coloured posing trunks, and the huge, roided muscle bulls who wear them.

Last Wednesday was a day I'll never forget. Not only did I witness a bodybuilder in the flesh in my local launderette, but I also found a pair of his posing trunks left behind in one of the machines.

And today, Friday July 21st, is also a day I’ll never forget. For so, so many reasons.

I've always found it amazing how a single moment can stick in your memory and stay there forever. So many things happen to us every single day, and many of them are forgotten so quickly. But sometimes, something will stay in our heads. Like our brain takes a picture of a precise moment that we can access any time we like. And every time we do, it’s almost as clear as when it happened. Today was full of those very moments.

One of which was when Liam “The Guns” Watson opened the door to his flat, and all six feet and two hundred plus pounds of him was stood staring at me from over the threshold.

Obviously I’d encountered this absurdly sexy muscle beast in the flesh two Wednesday’s before when we’d waddled into the launderette. Another such moment that will forever be etched on to my memory.

And yet, as he stood looking at me with a warm, inviting smile, I was completely overwhelmed with just how insanely fucking hot he was.

Presumably because he was only two days out from competing, his skin was tinted a gorgeous, golden colour. A few more coats and he’d be bronzed and ready to step to stage. It completely contrasted with my typically pale complexion.

His hair had changed since our first encounter a week and a half ago. It was now shaved except for a strip down the middle, which was not only spiked up and styled into a hot Mohawk, but dyed bright blue in the most outrageous fashion.

Strong, masculine features sat on his handsome face. His slightly large, jug ears stuck out in the sexiest fashion (perfect for grabbing hold of with both sets of fingers when pounding his obscenely huge arse) and on both cheeks, either side of his devastatingly gorgeous grin, sat two little dimples like parenthesis. (The most adorable looking parenthesis you’re ever likely to see.)

As for the mountain of outrageously developed muscle sitting below his neckline; annoyingly, it was covered up save for the top of his broad chest peeking out over the top of the same black hoodie he'd worn at the launderette.

Much like on that occasion, he was wearing long shorts, so everything bar his completely smooth, bronzed shins were covered up.

But even though there was very little beef on display, I was still completely overwhelmed and incredibly aroused by his enormous frame. Standing before me was a man who’d moulded and transformed his once ordinary sized body into that of an excessively sized muscle freak.

I couldn’t help but wonder at one moment had Liam realised he’d crossed the line from gym going muscle lad into all out roided muscle bull? When random strangers had started gawping, shrieking and pointing at him as he walked down North Street? When he’d attempted to buy a hoodie in H&M to discover it was too small, forcing him to buy an XXL sized one from the shop at Deano’s Gym? Or maybe it had been the first time he’d looked in the mirror and his dick had instantly exploded at the image of the monstrous muscle freak staring back at him?

“Oscar?” he asked as I stood at the door, about an inch shorter than him, the shiny blue posing trunks I’d said my sad goodbyes to fifteen minutes before tucked up in the backpack slung over my regular sized, non freaky shoulders.

The nerves I’d felt walking to Liam’s house seemed to have been overtaken by a sense of sheer shock and disbelief of being in the presence of, not only a real life competitive bodybuilder, but one as utterly huge and sexy as Liam.

“Yeah. Hi!” I said, trying to keep my focus on his face, and not be too blatant about staring at his enormous frame.

“Come in mate,” he said, ushering me over the threshold and shutting the door behind me. As he sidled past me, we were closer than ever. Just being in such close proximity to a muscle bull of such magnificent size was incredibly horny.

I followed Liam into his flat, taking in his huge back covered up by his Deano’s Gym hoodie and his outrageously developed and astonishingly huge arse stretching the material of his blue shorts.

“Do you want a drink Oscar?”

I loved the way he called me by my name like we were friends, even though we’d only just met.

“Ummm … can I just have some water please?”

“Sure mate!” Liam replied, before disappearing into the kitchen and leaving me in the living room of Brighton's biggest and sexiest muscle bull. I quickly scoured the room. A big Union Jack rug sat on the floor, matching Union Jack cushions sat on the black leather sofa, a huge flat screen TV was stuck to the wall, and sitting on a book shelf at the end of the sofa were multiple bodybuilding trophies, shaped like mini muscle men.

Three framed pictures sitting on a shelf above his mantelpiece caught my eye. An old fashioned photo of a married couple I presumed to be his parents, an adorable picture of a black French bulldog looking joyful with his pink tongue flat out and a picture of Liam himself; tanned from head to toe, his whole body a mass of bronzed, shredded, competition conditioned muscle mass, a medal round his neck and a bodybuilding trophy at his feet. And all he was wearing was a pair of bright blue, shiny posing trunks. The very same posing trunks tucked up in my backpack at that precise moment!

My dick juddered as I moved closer to get a better look at shredded Liam, flexing a hand on hips most muscular, an ecstatic grin on his oh-so gorgeous face, every freakishly developed muscle separated my beautiful lines and cuts. And all in those very familiar posing trunks. The hottest blue posing trunks in the world. The trunks I’d sniffed, and rubbed in my face as I wanked myself stupid. The trunks I’d fucking SPUNKED in just six nights before!

“That was my first ever win mate!” I jumped as Liam “The Guns” Watson re-entered the room, and when I spun around to face him, I was met with an image so surreal and unexpected my jaw literally dropped, and my mouth hung open for just a second as I tried to compose myself.

Liam had taken his hoodie off, and now had only a mint green coloured vest partially covering his upper body. His bare shoulders were absolutely fucking ridiculous. Like two bronzed half watermelons bulging either side of his frame.

I could see a lot more of his chest. Huge, thick plates of muscle which stretched out the material of the vest at the bottom (begging to be squeezed, fondled and played with) and spilled out of the material at the top.

And his arms. Jesus fucking CHRIST those arms. Nothing could have prepared me for seeing those in the flesh. The biggest upper arms I’ve ever seen on any human being outside of a bodybuilding competition.

It was like they’d been injected with every fucking steroid and growth hormone on the market and pumped till they were in danger of going pop.

Even relaxed I could see that vein I’d become familiar from his Instagram pictures, snaking down the middle of the left bicep. His forearms were obscenely thick too. Almost twice the size of mine, completely hairless and snaked in outrageous veins.

As he walked towards me and reached out his right arm with a glass of water, freaky striations suddenly erupted underneath the paper thin, gorgeously golden skin of the accompanying shoulder.

I took the water, all the while in a state of shock that I was in the presence of a man so freakishly huge and muscular.

I wondered in that moment if Liam ever played with He-Man action figures as a young lad. And then I wondered just what that lad would have thought if he’d have somehow been shown what an enormous, superhuman muscle bull he’d become as an adult.

“Sorry Oscar! I didn't mean to make you jump,” he said. His mouth curled into a mischievous grin as he said it, and I got the sense that he not only knew that his incredible body was making me nervous, but was also getting a bit of a kick out it.

Whether he had any idea of the other thoughts that were going through my head I wasn’t sure. Or what effect his newly revealed slabs, lumps, bumps and mounds of obscenely developed muscle were having on my crotch.

“Novice class of Mr Brighton 2014,” Liam added, referring to the picture of him on his mantle piece.

“You probably recognise the trunks!” he exclaimed, grinning even more, with those adorable dimples appearing in his cheeks. Meanwhile, I furiously blushed at the mere mention of the item of clothing I’d been obsessing about for the past week.

“It's partly why I was so gutted when I lost them. Sentimental value and all that,” he said, slightly sheepishly, making me want to melt into his Union Jack rug.

I nodded. “I get that!” I replied.

“You must have thought I was a bit of a nutter for putting up that poster!” he said.

I’ve always struggled to conceal my true feelings. I winced slightly and made a, “Hmmmm…” noise, to which Liam just laughed.

“I was a bit desperate mate! I went straight back to the launderette when I realised they were missing. I think I scared the woman working there a bit. Not just cause I was trying to explain to her what a pair of posing trunks looked like, but because, well …” at this point Liam paused, looked down and signalled to his body. The huge, freakishly muscular, competition ready body bulging out of the mint green vest just inches away from me. FUCK!

“The poster idea came to me when I saw a similar one for a missing cat taped to a lamppost a few days earlier. I went back and asked the old dear in the launderette if I could put it up. I think she thought I was well and truly NUTS but let me do it anyway. Probably for fear I was gonna eat her!”

I laughed out loud at this, and Liam grinned.

“I’m guessing it was the first time anyone’s ever put up a poster for a missing pair of posers,” he said, still grinning and looking rather pleased himself. I was getting the impression that Liam rather liked doing things which were not completely of the norm.

“I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to respond to it! So I was really chuffed when I got your text Oscar! It's not just the fact that I won my first ever show in them. I’m competing on Sunday and they were gonna be my trunks for the finals. To match the hair,” he explained, running his right hand through his outrageously hot, bright blue Mohawk. “It's kind of an ensemble. Blue hair. Blue trunks. To make me standout,” he said, cheekily grinning.

It seemed utterly absurd that a man this huge and gorgeous would need to make any sort of attempt to stand out in a group or crowd.

“Plus, I guess they’re kind of my favourite trunks,” he added, shrugging and looking a little sheepish.

I couldn't help but smile at this. The idea of Liam having a favourite pair of posers was as adorable as his dimples.

He’d stopped talking and there seemed to be something hanging in the air. Liam had an expectant look on his face and the penny suddenly dropped. He was waiting for his posing trunks. Of course he fucking was.

“Oh! Your posers,” I said. The word had left my mouth without any kind of pre-thought. Turning around from Liam to fetch the trunks from my backpack sitting on his sofa, I had no idea whether he noticed that I’d gone bright red with embarrassment. But I was also feeling a rush of adrenaline too. I had never said the word “posers” or “posing trunks” to another person out loud before.

My heart was pounding as I fetched the obscenely shiny, blue trunks out of my bag. An act which enhanced my adrenaline even more. Turning around and nervously handing the posing trunks I’d shot a huge wad of spunk into back to the gorgeous muscle freak standing before me was single handily the most surreal moment of my life up to that point.

“Thanks dude!” Liam said, beaming as he was reunited with his beloved trunks, now dangling in his right hand, in the horniest image. A huge sexy muscle bull reunited with his favourite shiny posers. There was still a part of me which had doubted whether I’d done the right thing in parting ways with the posing trunks I’d come to love so much. But standing in front of Liam in that moment, I realised I’d absolutely made the right decision. I wondered whether it would be completely out of the question to request him to strip, put the posers on and start hitting up some poses in the living room?

“So how come you didn't hand them in?” he asked.

Because I fucking LOVE tiny, shiny, slurp-tastic posing trunks!

"I, ummm … didn't find them until I’d gotten home,” I lied.

“Ahhhh! That makes sense,” Liam said, nodding, and making me feel slightly guilty.

“So, you go to Deano’s?”

The question completely threw me. Why on Earth would he think I go to the most hardcore gym in town? My biceps aren’t THAT good, are they?!

“Erm .... no. I go to Fitness Addicts,” I replied, nervously.

“Oh right. I just assumed,” he said. Liam was looking at my upper arms, which were mostly on show below the sleeve of my t-shirt. An actual bodybuilder was checking out my biceps. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. But I also felt something else. Flattery. Confusion. He actually thought I went to Deano’s Gym. What the fuck?!

“So ... how do you know me?”

This question threw me even more. I was completely and utterly baffled. And then he explained himself, and everything suddenly make sense.

“You used my name in your text message.”

HOLY FUCKING JESUS!!

I wanted the ground to swallow me up. To pause time and run the hell out of Liam's flat. I used his name in my text message! “Hi Liam!” How could I have been so fucking stupid?!

My brain went into panic mode. How WOULD I know Liam? Me, a regular sized, non-bodybuilding guy? How could I explain that I was completely and utterly obsessed with huge, freaky muscle? That I regularly creamed off to pictures and videos of posing trunk sporting muscle bulls on the Internet, just like I did with a picture of him when I stumbled across his profile on Instagram on Saturday night? And that’s when it hit me. An answer for Liam which could just save me.

“I follow you on Instagram,” I hastily said, my voice trembling slightly.

“Oh right!” he replied. The answer seemed good enough for him. “I forget I’m pretty well known on the Internet. So you follow bodybuilding?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, nervously, but fairly confidently. It was the truth after all.

“Awesome!” Liam exclaimed. His eyes went back to my arms, and his next statement made me blush crimson.

“I can see you've got some biceps on you!” he exclaimed with a cheeky grin.

I sheepishly grinned. I couldn’t help it. I don’t know why I said what I did next. Maybe it was the confidence of having a bodybuilder praise the size of my arms.

“The guys I work with actually have a nickname for me.”

“Oh yeah?” Liam asked with one of his eyebrows raised.

I nodded, blushing like crazy and regretting what I’d said, but knowing it was too late to back out of the conversation.

“They call me Mr Biceps!” I said, wincing.

“HAHA!! That's awesome!” Liam exclaimed. “Mr Biceps! I like that. They call me “The Guns”, but you probably know that already,” he said.

I smiled and nodded and my eyes went straight to those upper arms of him. Huge, bronzed, and the size of fucking tree trunks!

It would have been the perfect opportunity for Liam to have lifted those bad boys up, and given me a quick, cheeky, front double bicep pose. Or to lift up one of his forearms, squeeze his fist and flex one of those hard, marble-esque balls of beef. But sadly, he didn’t do either of those things.

Suddenly needing to relieve myself of the water Liam had given me, and also perhaps wanting to prolong my encounter with this gorgeous, cheeky, charming bodybuilder I‘d amazingly found myself in the company of, I asked Liam if I could use his bathroom.

Today was full of moments I’ll never forget and, and being distracted by something on my way to Liam “The Guns” Watson’s bathroom was most certainly one of them. Along with every single thing that followed that night until I eventually left his flat.

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