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Charlie's Secret


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On 4/19/2018 at 4:50 PM, crushme99 said:

Masterful writing.

I'm glad you're still enjoying it mate! I'm not too confident about this middle section of the story with Charlie filming the various bodybuilders. I feel it's a little repetitive in parts. Things get moving a bit with the next few parts though. ^_^

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I couldn’t help noticing that Stuart still looked a little flustered. His completely unexpected but rather adorable minor embarrassment at Mr Gorgeous Abs drawing everyone’s attention to Justin's fantastically shredded glutes clearly hadn’t affected his confidence too much though, as he leaned towards me and offered up one of his hottest confessions of the day.

“I love it when guys really crank up the attitude when they pose.”

I couldn’t suppress the grin emerging on my face, and before I had chance to go into panic mode over what to say, or completely lose my nerve and remain silent, I nodded in agreement and blurted out the first thing that entered my conscience.

“It’s pretty fucking awesome!”

It wasn’t much, but it still felt like something of a breakthrough, and judging by the gleeful smile on Stuart Fox’s face, it had clearly been a worthy enough response.

“So,” Stuart continued, “I think we can tick off the most inhumanly shredded guy in the room.”

I grinned and slowly nodded in agreement, wide eyed as if to say, “HELL FUCKING YEAH WE CAN!”

“Hmmm. Anything else?” Stuart asked.

It seemed like he was trying to coax me into talking more openly about muscle, as if trying to unleash my inner beef obsessed muscle addict.

Oooh er…let me think! The most ridiculously CUTE guy in the room? The guy with the most slurp-tastic, shiny blue posing trunks? The guy with the most freakishly striated, line plastered, “Is this real life? Yes I think it might just be,” shredded fucking GLUTES?!

“Erm…was it, the guy with the craziest feathered quads?”

OHGODOHGODOHGOD. I just said feathered! I just said QUADS!

Stuart excitably nodded and grinned, ignoring the fact that the violent blushing had returned to my cheeks.

“Oh yeah!” he agreed. “Without a doubt! His buddie’s a pretty close second though!”

With me opening up and relaxing more with Stuart, the way he spoke had suddenly taken on a more mischievous and excitable tone. Whatever was going on between Stuart Fox and I, one thing was for sure; he was clearly having fun with his brilliant, self invented pump room game, and enjoying the fact that he’d manage to find someone to play it with.

“I think we need to invent a new category for him,” Stuart continued. I looked at him blankly, eager to know what his next words would be. “The most outrageously cocky poser in the room!”

FUUUCCKKK!! YEEESSSSS!!

If I had given any pre thought as to what my next statement would be, I’m almost entirely convinced I wouldn’t have said it. “I think he deserves the most incredibly shredded abs title too!”

THEY’RE ON FIRE! MY CHEEKS ARE LITERALLY ON FIRE!

Responding with a huge, elated smile on his face, Stuart said, “You’re good at this,” before giving out a few, gleeful chuckles of laughter. Meanwhile, trying to cope with the emotions that came with the aftermath of saying the words “shredded” and “abs” to another living human, my head felt like it was just about ready to explode.

“There is one guy I’m itching to hunt down though,” Stuart confessed.

The most like minded muscle addict/work experience guy you want to grab and snog the fucking face off of before dragging back home and living in mutual muscle obsessed bliss?

“The most all out monstrous muscle freak in the room!”

Hmmm. That’ll work for me too. FUCK YEAH!!

As I smiled in response, I was suddenly reminded of a potential candidate for that particular title who I’d already spotted twice that day. Last seen sitting down, fully clothed and clutching a pair of the shiniest bright red posing trunks, I became immediately curious at to where Blaine Holton was hiding in the pump room, and whether he had ditched his black tracksuit and climbed into those very posing trunks yet.

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud bellow coming from another part of the pump room. It also seemed to have attracted the attention of a number of people around Stuart and I, who were now eagerly glancing around. Another loud yell erupted, followed by some jeers of encouragement which were almost just as loud. Excited voices and laughter followed in response from the people around us, and Stuart looked at me wide eyed with a look of curiosity and excitement on his face as if to say, “What the fuck was THAT?”

As I nervously glanced around, Stuart nudged me and directed my attention to a spot in the pump room I’d already made myself acquainted with, where the same extremely masculine, rather frightening looking but still unquestionably sexy bodybuilder in a backwards cap I’d spotted earlier, but was now stripped to his black posing trunks to reveal impressively huge and brutally thick muscle mass was stood with a small group of equally thuggish looking men I was more than familiar with gathered around him.

As this insanely huge baby gorilla in black posers slammed down as hard as he possibly could into an incredible side tricep pose, his thick, dinner plate pecs looking absolutely mind blowing, and his thick square abs bursting through his ever so slightly protruding, turtle shell stomach, he let out an absurdly loud and aggressive, “ARRRGGHHH!” to which his friends and spectators responded with cheers of encouragement.

THE NOISISET POSER IN THE ROOM

Baz Wade’s mate!!

Stuart’s expression of part fear and part excitement that something pretty awesome was happening matched exactly what I was feeling.

“I think your friend’s nightmare just got a whole lot worse,” he exclaimed.

Momentarily confused by Stuart Fox’s comment, I then suddenly noticed who was standing on the other side of the camera, mere inches away from this ridiculously huge beast of a bodybuilder as he flexed his outrageously huge muscle mass while releasing the loudest shouts and groans in the cockiest and most arrogant manner.

GUY FILMING THE NOISIEST POSER IN THE ROOM

BILLY HOR-FUCKING-VATH!!

It might have been partly down to the fact that I couldn’t see Billy’s facial expressions, but my earlier feelings of sympathy seemed to have diminished. Instead, I couldn’t help feeling amused at the fact that the most annoying and obnoxious individual I’d ever had the displeasure of knowing, and who earlier that day had expressed his utter disdain and disgust for obscenely huge, ripped to shreds, attitude packed bodybuilders was now just inches away from and filming such a bodybuilder. A bodybuilder who also happened to be the noisiest and undoubtedly one of the most intimidating men in the room, while displaying what had to be the most aggressive style of posing I’d witnessed that day.

My attention was taken away from Billy with the very welcome return of a familiar figure in a tight blue t-shirt approaching Stuart and I.

“Everything going OK, guys?”

Even after being in the company of an impossibly cute, tight bodied, lightweight bodybuilder in the hottest pair of golden coloured posing trunks imaginable, a brilliantly nicknamed, barely human muscle bull with monstrously huge biceps, a shockingly shredded All American muscle boy with breathtaking abs and cheese grater glutes and an amazingly conditioned, slightly geeky but insanely hot muscle freak with the most gorgeous stomach popping abdominals in shiny yellow posers, whose playful posing had been accompanied with some of the cockiest attitude imaginable, Bryan Macleod was still as incredibly sexy as before.

His re-appearance confirmed that my attraction for the man I’d maybe one day see in miniature form on the top of a wedding cake standing next to a similar miniature of me in a matching “LIVE FOR THE PUMP” t-shirt hadn’t wavered one bit.

Bryan’s next words then bought on a whole new set of emotions. “You’ve been filming for a while now. Why don’t you guys go for a fifteen minute break.”

My stomach suddenly tightened in an all too familiar knot for the umpteenth time since seeing the words Filming Backstage at a Local Bodybuilding Competition written down in front of me on a list of potential work placements in Professor Walsh’s class.  

Stuart Fox didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would abandon a nervous work experience guy, so unless he had something important to do, or somewhere to go, I knew there was a very good chance I’d be spending said break with my filming mentor.

Not only was this my ideal opportunity to make a good impression on a mutual muscle obsessed guy, who, despite only knowing for a short period of time, I was growing rather fond of, but it was potentially my chance to discuss some of the muscle crazed feelings I’d been keeping secret for so long.

It wasn’t something I would have predicted in the lead up to the day of the bodybuilding show, but I suddenly felt like I was battling the nerves of someone about to embark on a first date with someone they liked.

As Stuart said, “Come on, let’s bail,” and signalled for me to follow him away from the pump room, the knots in my stomach tightened and I braced myself for my non-date with Stuart Fox.

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Six

As I followed Stuart Fox out of the pump room and into a small room occupied by a few small tables and chairs, a large sofa, and a plasma TV screen on the wall, it became apparent that he had no intention of leaving this particular nervous work experience guy to his own devices.

Hoping that Stuart would opt for one of the tables, my stomach twinged when he headed towards the sofa instead. I slumped down as Stuart casually sat down next to me, and my non-date suddenly felt a lot more intimate than I had anticipated.

I suddenly became extremely self conscious of my hands. In particular, just what the hell I was supposed to do with them. Any anxiety was clearly only on my half though, as Stuart Fox looked just as relaxed sitting next to a near stranger in a small room as he had done instructing an obscenely conditioned bodybuilder in shiny, golden coloured posing trunks on what muscle exploding pose to hit next.

Stuart was predictably the one to break the short silence between us, throwing questions at me about my university course and how I was finding living in the States. It wasn’t an uncomfortable engagement, but there seemed to be a slight awkwardness between us which hadn’t been there in the pump room when we were exchanging knowing looks and discussing which muscle freak had the craziest feathered quads in the room. I wasn’t sure if it was my neuroticism coming through, but I couldn’t shake the thought that the awkwardness was mostly due to me and my nerves.

I was almost relieved when Stuart Fox suddenly jumped up and asked if he could get me a drink, or anything else, before leaving the room. Alone with my thoughts, I gave myself a prep talk to try and relax and not blow the one chance I’d been given to have a conversation with a highly suspected, like minded muscle obsessed lover of insanely huge, gloriously shredded bodybuilders.

A few minutes later, Stuart re-emerged holding two coffee cups. I wasn’t sure if my prep talk had helped, or whether it was the distraction of the coffee, but immediately there seemed to be a significant shift in the atmosphere, and things didn’t feel quite so awkward between us. I was also relieved at the fact that I no longer had the dilemma of what to do with my hands.

Stuart picked up the conversation by returning to the topic of my studies. “So, how many other work experience placements do you get to go on as part of your course?”

“Erm…two last year, and then another one next semester.”

Stuart nodded. “I’m guessing the two from last year were a little more conventional than this place?”

I knowingly smiled and nodded in agreement, before posing a question of my own. “Do you have a lot of students doing work experience placements here?”

“A few, yeah. The last show I did I looked after one guy. I’m not sure he erm…” he paused and then let out a short chuckle before continuing, “knew what to make of the whole thing. He clearly knew nothing about bodybuilding. A bit like your friend.”

Stuart then obviously remembered the prior conversation we’d had in the pump room where I’d informed him that Billy was categorically not my friend. “Classmate, sorry,” he said, correcting himself with a cheeky smile. “He didn't frown as much though,” he added.

“I think Bryan likes to hook the work experience guys up with me cause he knows I’ll chat to them,” Stuart continued, giving the first mention to the future Mrs Charlie Steatham.

“I'm not sure what qualifies Baz Wade though,” he added with a confused look. “Maybe that’s just Bryan’s way of amusing himself! Put the angry ones with attitude who are pissed they didn’t get a better work placement with Baz, and put the nice ones with me.”

I saw him cautiously look at me from the corner of his eye, as I hid my bashful smile into my coffee cup which I was conveniently taking a swig out of, and tried to hide the fact that I was probably blushing a little at the small but rather sweet compliment Stuart Fox had just thrown me.

“So, have you helped film many bodybuilding shows?” I asked. It seemed like a good place to start in getting to know more about him.

“This one’s my fourth,” Stuart replied. “I was so nervous on my first gig!”

The statement took me by complete surprise and I instinctively shot him a sceptical wide eyed look.

“What?” he exclaimed in response, with a short laugh.

“Nothing!” I replied. “It’s just…you don't seem like the nervous type.”

He threw me one of his handsome grins. “Well I’m kinda used to it all now, but my first time in a pump room, surrounded by bodybuilders I was a wreck! I kept worrying that people would be looking at me, and they’d…” he paused slightly, then continued, “know why I was there.”

If I’d have taken a sip of my coffee at that particular moment, I’m almost sure I would have spat it straight back out. I knew exactly what Stuart Fox was implying with this statement; he was, as I’d highly suspected, as much of a lover of huge, freaky muscle as I was. What I wasn’t prepared for though, and what I never would have predicted, was Stuart Fox's next confession.

“Plus, I didn’t know how the hell to work a camera.”

I instinctively smiled and nodded before realising what he’d actually said. Noticing the confused expression which had emerged on my face, Stuart mischievously smirked and began to explain.

“Well…I’d never actually used one before.”

At this point he rather amusingly looked at the door to double check no one was within earshot and, with a devilish look on his face, he continued. “You see, I don’t really have any interest in being a camera man. I mean, I know how to use them now from working on the crew, but that’s where it ends. I never pick up a camera outside of working at a bodybuilding show.”

My head was spinning at the revelation that the camera man who’d spent the afternoon mentoring me wasn’t actually a camera man, and further more, had no interest in being one. It was already glaringly obvious why he was spending his Saturday afternoon backstage at a bodybuilding show, but his next statement, and the slightly bashful expression and endearingly cheeky smirk which immediately followed was about to confirm what that reason was.

“I'm kind of here for other reasons.”

If Stuart Fox’s hint wasn't enough to make me blush, his next statement certainly was.

“Which I’m guessing is the same reason you know what an abs and thighs is. And how you know who Justin Hughes is!”

If someone had told me the day before that my work experience placement filming backstage at a bodybuilding show would result in one of the guys on the camera crew revealing his suspicions that I was a secret muscle lover harbouring an insatiable lust for the abnormally sized and freakishly ripped muscle monsters that would made up our filming subjects, I probably would have experienced something close to a panic attack and made the very easy decision to not have turned up at the auditorium that morning, happily accepting a poor grade in Professor Walsh’s class as a result and leaving Billy Horvath to embark on this crazy adventure on his own.

However, sitting next to charming, handsome Stuart Fox suggesting in his slightly teasing but undoubtedly endearing way that it was abundantly clear that, much like him, I was backstage at a bodybuilding competition because the mere thought of seeing the gorgeously shredded abs and ridiculously huge biceps of a competition conditioned muscle freak in person made my mouth water and boxer shorts tighten like a vice, I found myself incapable of suppressing the elated smile that was emerging on my slightly flustered face. The smile which was enough confirmation that Stuart Fox needed that his suspicions were, indeed, well-founded.

Sure, I had spoken to other muscle lovers online, but sitting and discussing this unique and crazy fetish with another person who harboured the same thoughts and feelings as me was like a revelation. I was finally sharing my much kept secret with someone, and it felt like I’d, at last, found the keys to a locked door I’d been trying desperately trying to open for as long as I could remember.

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Another question suddenly arose in my head which I was curious to know the answer to.

“So, do you think there are more camera men out there who are…” I paused before slightly sheepishly continuing the next part of my question, “like us?”

Stuart grinned. “I’m pretty sure there’s a couple!” he replied. “I kind of want to talk to them about it but it’s hard. It’s not the easiest thing to bring up in conversation.”

I suddenly had the image of Stuart Fox striding up to a fellow camera man in the pump room, reaching out his hand and matter of factly saying, “Hi, I’m Stuart Fox. I’m so fucking turned on right now by all these monstrously huge muscle freaks flexing and posing in their teenie tiny, super shiny posing trunks that I actually think I might blast a load the next time one of them cranks a massive, trap erupting most muscular. You?”

“Oh, and there’s Bryan of course.”

My eyes widened slightly and I tried to suppress my sudden piqued interest at the mention of my future husband Bryan Macleod.

“Well, I don’t actually know it for a fact,” Stuart continued. “I mean, I’ve never spoken to him about it, but I’m pretty sure he’s into it the same way that we are.”

And with that last statement, Stuart Fox and I suddenly exchanged the same sheepish and affectionate smirk. The kind of adorable smile only shared by two people who blatantly rather like each other. Then came Stuart Fox’s next amusing and rather brilliant confession.

“I actually used to have a bit of a thing for Bryan!”

I tried my hardest not to blush, but I was unable to suppress my amusement at Stuart’s revelation. I suddenly felt another burst of bravery, and without thinking, blurted out my response.

“He’s very woof worthy!”

Before I had time to panic over whether it was the single most idiotic thing I could have possibly said in that moment, Stuart responded with a laugh.

“Woof worthy!” he repeated. “I like that!”

"So…” Stuart began, swerving the conversation with a mischievous and rather proud grin on his face, “we’ve found the most inhumanly shredded guy in the room; Justin Hughes. The guy with the craziest feathered quads; Justin Hughes! The guy with the most freakishly huge biceps; Chris “Freaky Peaks” Jackson. What else?”

“The abs guy. Justin’s friend!” I chipped in, both surprising and impressing myself at how considerably less embarrassed I was at saying the word abs.

“YES!” Stuart Fox excitedly agreed. “He gets the most outrageously cocky poser title too.”

An image of Justin Hughes’ crazily developed, line plastered glutes suddenly flashed in my head. My confidence had grown enough that I could more easily mutter out words like abs and quads, but the idea of saying the word glutes out loud, a word not even Stuart Fox had dared to say as yet, still terrified me. So I took an easier option and reminded Stuart of another fulfilled category in the brilliant, self invented pump room game he’d invited me to play.

“The first guy we filmed definitely gets the best posing trunks.”

“Hell yeah!” agreed Stuart, clearly reminiscing about the impossibly cute, lightweight guy in the golden posers who’d made up our very first filming subject.

I’d lost count of how many times my boxer shorts had shrunken that day, but sitting next to an undoubtedly handsome guy openly discussing the best attributes of bodybuilders and muttering words like quads, abs and posing trunks, I found myself with my arms crossed conveniently over my crotch, trying to hife the fact that my dick had, once again, doubled in size and was persistently throbbing against the denim material of my jeans.

I suddenly pictured myself in my bedroom, sitting in front of my computer screen. Only instead of sitting on my chair, I found myself comfortably perched on Stuart Fox’s lap. His hard on digging into my arse cheeks, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist and his head nuzzled into the back of my neck as I navigated the computer mouse and searched for the best, hottest and most pant cream worthy videos of Justin Hughes and Chris “Freaky Peaks” Jackson the Internet has to offer.

“So we still have the guy with the biggest muscle tits to find!” Stuart exclaimed.

TITS AGAIN!! NOT PECS…BUT FUCKING TITS!!

“And the most all out monstrous muscle freak in the room.”

Once again, I got an image of a bodybuilder I’d witnessed on two occasions that day, and who I was suddenly itching to encounter again.

“I actually think I might know a candidate for that one,” I cautiously said. Stuart looked at me inquisitively.

“Do you know Blaine Holton?”

“God yes!” Stuart replied, with a surprising amount of enthusiasm. “He might be a tricky one to get near though. We kinda got lucky with Justin.”

Stuart Fox looked at his watch. “I think we better head back in a bit.”

I couldn’t help but notice a slight sense of disappointment in Stuart’s voice, presumably that our non-date was about to come to an end.

“So, listen, how long do you left in the States?”

My heart skipped a beat at Stuart’s question. Was he about to ask me for my phone number? Maybe ask if I wanted to hang out with him sometime? Possibly ask if I wanted to go back to his and spend all night blowing loads over videos of insanely conditioned, wafer thin skin covered muscle freaks flexing and posing in brightly coloured posers?

“There’s a show next month. I can’t go unfortunately. I have this family thing, but I could talk to Bryan if you wanted? Try and get you a spot on the crew?”

Stuart’s gesture completely threw me. “Erm…yeah. That would be cool,” I nervously muttered.

I knew that it wasn’t the most enthusiastic reaction, but it was the best I could do as my mind struggled to decide with how I was supposed to feel about Stuart’s offer.

On one hand, I was being presented with the opportunity to embark, not just on another work experience placement, but an actual spot on a camera crew where I’d be able to, once again, witness the kind of bodybuilders who turned me on more than anything else on the planet, pumping up, flexing and posing in their crazy competition conditions, which was somewhat unbelievable and completely amazing.

But, on the other hand, the prospect of embarking on such an experience without the comfort of Stuart Fox by my side was a less than appealing notion. I also couldn’t deny the disappointment I was experiencing over the fact that Stuart hadn’t actually expressed an interest in keeping in touch with me as I suspected he might do.

“It’s a shame I can’t go, but I think you’ll be fine,” Stuart said, clearly sensing my uncertainty. “You clearly know what you’re doing with the cameras.”

With Stuart Fox’s thoughtful reassurance, I tried to imagine myself in a pump room without him beside me. It was a notion which wracked with me nerves, but none more so than I’d felt with the prospect of embarking on the work experience placement I was currently on. This lead me to, once more, look at the opportunity from the other point of view.

In a month’s time I could be working with Bryan MacWoofityWoof again with my very own camera inches away from an obscenely huge, paper thin skin covered magnificently peaked bicep even bigger than Chris Jackson’s. Or a pair of astonishingly shredded, shiny trunk covered line plastered glutes even freakier than those belonging to Justin Hughes. Maybe I’d even be given my very own “LIVE FOR THE PUMP” t-shirt to wear. The very t-shirt which would later be featured in edible icing form on the figurine perched on top of mine and Bryan Macleod’s wedding cake.

“Hmmm. I think we’d better head back,” Stuart instructed.

We stood up and disposed of our now empty coffee cups. As we headed out of the small room, Stuart turned his head to me with a playful grin on his face.

“Let’s go and find the most all out monstrous muscle freak in the room!”

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I wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of, not only finally meeting a like minded muscle lover in person, but having the confidence to talk relatively openly about my interest, or whether it was because I’d already successfully survived the experience with my nerves in tact, but I re-entered the pump room with a newly found confidence.

I couldn’t help but picture an impressed Bryan Macleod and a still intimidated and uncomfortable Billy Horvath observing this from different corners of the pump room.

With the majority of the competitors and weight classes having already been called out on stage, there were noticeably fewer bodybuilders in the pump room still lifting weights and doing any sort of actual pumping up.

Most of the action seemed to be taking place in one particular corner of the room, where a gathering of quite frankly monstrous bodybuilders were ensuring every one of their gigantic sized muscles was pumped to the absolute maximum degree before they waddled out on stage to flex, squeeze and show them off to brilliant and freaky effect to a theatre of presumably adoring spectators. It also happened to be the same part of the pump room where I’d previously spotted Blaine Holton sitting with a pair of super shiny, bright red posing trunks clutched in his hands.

Stuart had clearly already noticed the spot too. “Let’s head over there,” he instructed. “Let’s try and avoid Bryan so he can’t divert us!” he added in a slightly mischievous tone, like a naughty school boy trying to avoid one of his teachers from catching him doing something he shouldn’t be.

As we approached our targeted area, it became abundantly clear that we were, indeed, in the presence of some of the biggest and heaviest competitors in the contest. The space seemed noticeably busier than any other area we’d been in, with a slightly worrying amount of camera men catching the action on film.

The whole area also seemed to have a slightly different atmosphere than the other parts of the pump room I’d experienced. More serious and testosterone fuelled, ever so slightly more intimidating but unquestionably, at least to me, a lot more sexual.

Every single monstrously sized bodybuilder seemed to be radiating an incredible air of testosterone and power, like they knew they were the biggest guys in the room and their bodies would undoubtedly have the greatest effect on anyone lucky enough to bare witness to them.

As I scouted the area, an outrageously huge black guy whose entire body was bulging with superhuman sized, balloon-like muscle mass, which looked as if it were about to burst through his paper thin skin at any given second, was performing some barbell curls.

Not too far away from him, an absurdly handsome and masculine looking bald guy with thick, hosepipe veins spread across his enormous biceps, was hitting a set of shoulder shrugs while a rather gorgeous Latin-American guy, who was also a hot contender for the guy with the biggest muscle tits, was stood chatting to guy in a t-shirt as his ridiculously thick, patio slab pecs hung off his torso and an arrogant looking but undoubtedly hot muscle daddy in a pair of shiny turquoise trunks was blasting some poses with fierce intensity for one lucky member of the camera crew.

All of them were immensely hot bodybuilders who I’d more than happily be close up to and staring at down a camera lens. And yet, I couldn’t deny my slight disappointment that Blaine Holton was currently nowhere to be seen. Just as I started to wonder whether I should completely give up on the notion of adding him to my list of insanely hot filming subjects, Stuart Fox nudged me and excitedly whispered, “I’ve spotted Blaine Holton!”

Directing my view to a space a few yards away from the busy corner of super freaks we’d found ourselves occupying, I suddenly noticed the same pair of inexpiably shiny, modestly packed, bright red posing trunks I’d already spotted earlier that day being in Blaine Holton’s hands. Only now, they were attached to the absolute mountain of enormously huge and astonishing thick muscle mass that made up Blaine’s physique. He was now finally shed of his black tracksuit and looked more monstrous than I ever could have anticipated as he intensely pumped up with a large barbell.

Unfortunately, as previously predicted by Stuart, this particular muscle freak was going to be hard to get near. Blaine seemed to be surrounded by a circle of camera men. Distracted by the view of this phenomenally conditioned monster, pumping up bronze painted muscle mass with a fairly arrogant, slightly intimidating but undoubtedly sexy expression of concentration, I had failed to notice that, even though his back was turned towards me, I was already well acquainted with one of those camera men.

With his sexy and woof-worthy bald head, and his utterly brilliant “LIVE FOR THE PUMP” sloganed t-shirt stretched across his modestly broad back, I instantly recognised the inexplicably sexy man who was overseeing my work placement. The one time object of Stuart Fox’s affections and possible future Mrs Charlie Steatham (dependant on what the future now held for me and Mr Fox), Bryan Macleod.

I glanced at a wide eyed Stuart Fox, who threw me an excited cheeky smirk in response to the fact that we’d managed to find the man we’d been discussing not ten minutes before. A man who was a very likely candidate for the all out monstrous muscle freak in the room.

Stuart shook his head. “There’s no way we’re getting close to that,” he defiantly said. “Those camera men aren’t going anywhere.”

I felt instantly deflated, but it quickly vanished with Stuart’s next statement. “It doesn’t stop us from watching though!” he exclaimed with an excitable and mischievous grin.

Stuart motioned for us to make a move towards Blaine. I nervously followed his lead, before coming to a stop about ten feet away from the muscle bull in question and his circle of admiring camera men. I had an unnerving sense that we were doing something slightly wrong, before I glanced around and noticed that a number of other assorted non-bodybuilders and potential camera crew members were also standing around, not doing a whole lot of anything else but being spectators to this incredible bodybuilder.

Even though I’d already spotted Blaine Holton twice that day, nothing could have prepared me for what it would be like to witness this particular competitor stripped to nothing but his indecently shiny posing trunks.

I was struggling to comprehend the sheer size of the monstrous mountain of muscle before my eyes. Cartoonishly huge shoulders which looked like they were made from granite, enormous sized biceps which couldn’t be any more pumped if they tried, and big, wonky shaped abs which positively burst through his stomach, all helped to make up Blaine Holton’s phenomenally thick and incredibly powerful physique.

There was one particular muscle group of Blaine’s, however, which slightly overpowered the others and begged for my attention the most. Once again, I pictured the imaginary white board with all of the categories of Stuart Fox’s pump room game and winning competitors names underneath, with the last two categories now fulfilled.

THE MOST ALL OUT MONSTROUS MUSCLE FREAK IN THE ROOM

Blaine Holton

THE GUY WITH THE BIGGEST MUSCLE TITS (NO, NOT PECS, BUT TITS! FUCKING TITS!)

BLAINE HOLTON

The sheer thickness in Blaine’s perfectly round pecs was mind blowing. There didn’t seem to be enough space on his chest for them to fit. Every time Blaine lifted the barbell, both mounds of gloriously thick chest meat twitched and jumped with the movement. I was sure that even when he wasn’t lifting, his enormous and endlessly meaty pecs would bounce and dance with the slightest of movements.

The other noticeable aspect of Blaine’s superhuman sized physique was his gorgeous, soft skin. It looked like a layer of millimetre thin silk that had been delicately painted bronze, and was now in fear of ripping every time the owner flexed and tensed one of the rock hard, gigantic sized mounds of muscle sitting underneath it.

Even from the neck up, Blaine looked like some kind of genetically modified, superior breed of man. Even though I’d seen Blaine a number of times from images and videos on the Internet, I was still completely blown away by just how astonishingly handsome he was in the flesh. With that ridiculously big, square lantern jaw and the rest of his strong, masculine features, there was little argument that Blaine was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever bared witness to in the flesh.

I also couldn’t help thinking that if, by some miracle, Blaine dropped his barbell, walked past Bryan Macleod and the other lucky camera men who’d beat Stuart Fox and I to the post and straight towards me while staring directly in my eyes and, ignoring every other person in the pump room, wrapped his unfathomably huge arms around my waist and back and planted one single kiss on my lips, it would be enough to cause my cock to suddenly start spasming before blasted out a relentless supply of thick, wet cream into the crotch of my boxers.

Finishing his set and placing his barbell on the floor, it suddenly became clear that, much like Chris “Freaky Peaks” Jackson, Blaine was one of those bodybuilders who Bryan Macleod had warned Billy Horvath and I about during his presentation that morning. The kind of bodybuilder who didn’t need any kind of encouragement or instructions to start posing. He was going to flex his freshly pumped up mounds of inhumanly sized muscle mass, whether his audience of cameramen liked it or not.

Placing his left hand over his right clenched fist, Blaine Holton puffed out his cheeks with a short, sharp exhaling sound, before brilliantly transforming his expression into a similar, shit-eating grin I’d seen him displaying in the video played by Bryan MacWoofityWoof earlier that morning. As he admired his freakish creation of mass muscle in the large mirrors behind us, he flexed and squeezed into a jaw dropping most muscular pose.

Striations erupted from the deep groove separating his insatiably thick pecs, which were now bulging from his chest to an astounding degree, his delts looked like melons surgically implanted under his silk-like skin and each of his granite hard biceps, which were now pumped to obscene proportions, looked as if they were trying to pick fights with his balloon-esque pec meat.

Not only blown away by the sheer size and freakiness of Blaine’s mass, I couldn’t quite get over just how shamelessly cocky he was. The attitude, power and testosterone radiating from this devastatingly huge muscle beast was like nothing I’d ever witnessed. This was clearly a man who was extremely aware of the kind of power his impossibly sized muscle bought him. There was no doubt that Blaine knew there were certain guys who would give up almost anything just to touch, squeeze and worship his body.

Even when relaxed, and turning to the side to transition into his next pose, Blaine’s face was contorted into an obscenely arrogant grimace. As he eased into a muscle exploding side chest, he snapped open his mouth as if mouthing the word, “YEAH!” in the cockiest fashion, before settling on one of the big, eat shit grins I was becoming very well acquainted with.  

After treating his audience to a quick side tricep pose, accompanied by another power packed, attitude filled grimace, Blaine re-positioned himself to face the mirrors, and his three cameramen head on once more. I watched in complete and utter disbelief as the most all out monstrous muscle freak in the room bent forward and opened his mouth as wide as humanly possible in the most over the top cocky and downright animalistic fashion and cranked down into a brutal, muscle exploding crab most muscular.

As Blaine Holton geared up for another pose, Stuart Fox leant towards me. “This is FUCKING amazing,” he quietly exclaimed in a cheeky and excitable manner.

Presumably because of a result of my coffee break with Stuart, where we’d all but confessed to each other that we were like minded muscle lovers, the shyness I’d felt during our previous pump room interactions had vanished and I found myself feeling a lot less inhibited in sharing my opinions of our freakishly muscular filming subjects.

“Hmmm. Shame about the subdued posing,” I replied in jest.

Stuart laughed and offered up his own bout of humorous sarcasm. “Yeah, I just love a guy whose all humble and modest.”

I gleefully grinned at Stuart’s comment before he offered up another one of his amazingly hot confessions. “And I won’t be forgetting about those massive fucking muscle tits in a hurry.”

No matter how many times Stuart unashamedly and casually muttered his rather cute, completely awesome and undoubtedly hot alternative to the word “pecs” it never lost it’s effect on me.

As Stuart Fox and I gazed at each other, both unable to wipes the grins off our faces, I felt the familiar warm and exciting sensation that I’d, not only finally met a like minded lover of inhumanly conditioned muscle freaks, but someone who, despite not knowing for long, I was finding myself increasingly smitten with.

Completely lost in my utterly brilliant shared moment of cheeky banter and longing grins with Stuart Fox, I’d failed to notice that someone had unexpectedly saddled up next to me, and was now standing on my right, joining me and Stuart in our spectatorship of Blaine without invitation, until he spoke.

“This dude’s a freaking monster!”

Startled at his arrival, I quickly glanced to my right. My heart fluttered, I momentarily felt like my breath had stopped and that my eyes were going to pop straight out of my skull.

Now clothed in a black tracksuit and standing with his ridiculous sized shoulders just inches away from mine and observing Blaine’s display of power packed, attitude filled posing was the guy with the most incredibly shredded abs in the pump room, winner of the title of the most outrageously cocky poser, which was now in serious threat of being stolen by Blaine Holton, and the bodybuilder who’d cheekily intruded on Justin Hughes’ posing and been one half of the hottest two man posedown I was ever likely to witness both in real life or on my computer in the comfort of my bedroom. The man I had earlier that day nicknamed Mr Gorgeous Abs.

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I glanced over at a wide eyed Stuart Fox. Feeling a crippling shyness take over, I was barely able to take a second glance at the bodybuilder who earlier that day had cranked, flexed and shown off his phenomenal slabs of muscle while grunting, huffing, hissing and displaying some of the most energetic and cockiest posing possible. It was down to Stuart, who I’d already established was not one for suffering from any such shyness, to respond.

“Think he’s a contender for the super heavyweight title?” Stuart confidently asked.

“Oh, for sure!” Mr Gorgeous Abs replied. “My money’s on him taking the whole show.”

At that point, Blaine Holton spun around and hit a back lat spread, revealing his monstrously huge and breathtakingly wide back. In response, Mr Gorgeous Abs let out a gob smacked “WOW!”

While a starry eyed Mr Gorgeous Abs stood in awe and amazement of the monstrous sized back and thick flexed lats of a super heavy weight muscle freak, I was stood in my own awe-struck muscle trance, unable to comprehend how close I was standing to the enormous sized physique of a competitive bodybuilder, who was actually trying to engage me into conversation.

His magnificently developed body seemed to be radiating heat, and I could smell a similar, manly scent of sweat and, what I presumed to be, his competition tan to the one I did when I was inches away from our first filming subject Mr Golden Posers. I’d never met a man with the power to turn me on to such a ridiculous degree just from standing shoulder to shoulder with me.

“Congratulations, by the way!”

I looked over at Stuart Fox who was signalling towards a bronze statue of a muscle man gripped in Mr Gorgeous Abs’ ridiculously bronzed right hand.

“Thanks man!” he warmly responded with genuine appreciation. “Second place in the middleweight category. I lost out to Justin Hughes.”

As he spoke, he was not only making eye contact with Stuart Fox, but also kept darting his eyes to mine, thoughtfully including me into the conversation, even though I was yet to offer up a single word.

Being in the presence of Mr Gorgeous Abs for the second time that day, I couldn’t help thinking how I’d seriously underestimated how attractive he actually was. He was still a little geeky looking, with his thin facial features and his slightly small head, made even smaller by his incredibly sexy, shaved all over hair, which didn’t look like it belonged to his frighteningly muscular body, but there was an undeniably handsome, even slightly cute, quality to his face.

Stripped of his deliciously bronzed competition tan, and minus the pounds of crazily conditioned, impressively sized muscle mass he’d packed on to his frame, he probably wouldn’t look out of place sitting behind a teacher’s desk in a classroom. And yet, he’d transformed himself into an absolute bone fide muscle stud, capable of shrinking the boxer shorts of full grown men just from being in the same room as them.

“The kid’s a freak! No one can match his conditioning.” Mr Gorgeous Abs was continuing to discuss Justin Hughes, the impossibly cute, early twenty something bodybuilder he’d outrageously lured into a posedown earlier, and has since, apparently, come runner up to in the middle weight category of the show.

“I gave him a run for his money in the comparisons round though,” Mr Gorgeous Abs added, with a devilish, slightly cocky smirk.

“You gave him a pretty good run with your posing earlier on too!” Stuart exclaimed, which seemed to cause the bodybuilder’s grin to expand and become cockier.

As he hadn’t paid us that much attention during his posedown with Justin Hughes, I had my doubts as to whether Mr Gorgeous Abs had remembered Stuart Fox and I from the encounter, but he evidently did.

“Just a little something different for the camera!” he cheekily said, darting his eyes to Stuart Fox’s CX100.

The announcement for the super heavyweight competitors to start lining up for their time on stage was made, drawing a close to Blaine Holton’s display of unbelievably arrogant, attitude packed posing, as he headed out of the pump room with the other super heavyweight muscle monsters.

My heart sank as I anticipated this would bring an end to our completely unexpected but utterly brilliant encounter with the surprisingly friendly Mr Gorgeous Abs, who was without a doubt near the top of my list of bodybuilders I’d been unfathomably turned on by that day. What I certainly wasn’t expecting was Mr Gorgeous Abs’ next question.

“I take it you guys are pretty tied up with filming here?”

I shot a confused look at Stuart Fox, who seemed as equally baffled and lost for a response as I was. “I was looking to get some post competition posing vids filmed for the Internet,” he continued. “Make the most of this tan and my conditioning while it lasts. I can understand if you guys are tied up here, but…if you’re up for it?”

My mind started to race. I wasn’t exactly sure what this second placed middle weight bodybuilder, owner of the most gorgeously shredded abs and possibly the most outrageously cocky poser in the room (a two man posedown with Blaine Holton would have to be performed for absolute clarity) was proposing.

A bodybuilder in a pump room was asking two camera men to film him posing. It wasn’t the strangest request I’d ever heard, but filming a private video for the Internet in his hotel room, which had no sort of involvement with the show we were filming, was a completely different matter. I had no idea how any such suggestion was going to work.

I looked at Stuart Fox, whose expression was part excitement and part confusion. I followed Stuart’s eyes as he glanced over at the spot where Blaine Holton and Bryan Macleod had previously been. Still with his back to us, Bryan was conversing with another camera man while walking away from the area he’d just occupied. He seemed to be following the super heavyweight monsters out of the pump room. With a very slight and uncharacteristic hint of nerves in his voice, Stuart spoke. “I think we can get away for half an hour.”

Erm…what? We can? Get away?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!

“Awesome! Oh, I’m guessing that’s not your own camera?” Mr Gorgeous Abs asked, signalling to the CX100 in Stuart Fox’s hand. A camera which was clearly not owned by Stuart, and absolutely, one hundred per cent categorically not intended for any kind of post competition posing videos for the Internet, filmed by two camera men who were very more than likely to get into a shit load of trouble for participating in any such activity.

Stuart Fox had the expression of someone who’d been caught out doing something he shouldn’t have and was desperately trying to think of a way to worm himself out of trouble.

“That’s OK!” Mr Gorgeous Abs casually said. “I have a digital camera back at my hotel room.”

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD!

“We can use that instead.”

Did he just say hotel room? His FUCKING hotel room? This can NOT be happening.

“Let me just grab my stuff and we can head out.”

Carrying his second placed middle weight class trophy with him, Mr Gorgeous Abs waddled off, leaving me with a wide eyed, nervous but excited looking Stuart Fox.

“Did that just really happen?” he asked, clearly in as much disbelief as I was.

The prospect of going to the hotel room of a crazily conditioned, insanely sexy muscle freak, fresh off a bodybuilding stage, to film a private video with an awesome like minded muscle lover was nothing short a fantasy come true. But my excitement seemed to be at war with a growing apprehension.

I didn’t want to mess up what had been an amazing work experience placement by doing something irresponsible, jeopardise my grade for my university class, get into Bryan Macleod’s bad books, potentially ruin my chances of working at a future show, and additionally get Stuart Fox into any kind of trouble.

“Are we not gonna get in trouble for leaving?” I asked Stuart. “What if we get caught?”

And at that question, Stuart Fox’s face dropped, just for a second, and I saw a flicker of something in his expression I hadn’t seen before. Whether it was disappointment or judgment at my lack of courage, or maybe my lack of sense of adventure, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to see that look on Stuart Fox’s face again.

“I want to do it!” I reassured him. “I just…don’t want to get you into trouble.” His face warmed again, and his mouth curled into a slightly bashful smile I felt I’d been redeemed.

“Bryan always goes out into the theatre to film the super heavies and the last part of the show. It’s a little risky, I admit, but…I think we’ll be OK,” Stuart explained. “Besides, if he, or anyone else notices we’ve gone, or we get caught coming back, we can just think of an excuse. We’ll say you felt ill and needed some fresh air. One thing you need to know about Bryan is; he’s so easy going he’s practically horizontal!”

Stuart could clearly sense that I was still apprehensive, so he lowered his voice, and, in an excited and rather amusingly hushed manner, said, “Dude! A bodybuilder wants us to film him posing in his hotel room. This kind of shit never happens!”

Spelt out to me this way, I suddenly felt like the biggest idiot for not being more excited at the opportunity we were being presented with. As my fears of being caught diminished, I suddenly felt an incredible rush of excitement at the prospect of the adventure I was about to embark on.

My excitable smile was all Stuart needed to know that I was very much on board with what was happening. “I can’t believe he just came up and stared speaking to us!” Stuart said. “Plus, he’s kinda hot. Very fucking hot actually!” I grinned and nodded in complete agreement.

“He’s kinda goofy looking!” I added. “But I like that. It’s like his head and his body don’t match!”

Stuart grinned wildly in response, and then said something which made my heart flutter and my cheeks burn. “I really like talking to you about muscle.”

Before I had the chance to offer up any sort of reply, Mr Gorgeous Abs was on the approach, confidently striding up to us with his trophy still in his hand, and a holdall thrown over one of his stupidly broad shoulders.

“You guys about ready?”

I took one last nervous glance around the pump room to ensure that Bryan Macleod hadn’t snuck back in. Wondering whether the last few days hadn’t been one long and extremely vivid dream and I was actually still sitting in Professor Walsh’s class hovering my pen over the words “Filming Backstage at a Local Bodybuilding Competition” I then followed by companions and made my way to the hotel room of a genuine, competition conditioned bodybuilder.

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Seven

It would be almost impossible to crown one particular incident of my work experience placement as being the most surreal, but walking next to an absurdly sized and ridiculously hot muscle freak, who’d just placed runner up in the middleweight category of a bodybuilding show, in public and en route to his hotel room had to be a strong contender for first place.

With Mr Gorgeous Abs on my right, and Stuart Fox to my left, I’d somehow found myself in the middle of this unlikely trio. I had already played witness to Mr Gorgeous Abs stripped to nothing but his brilliantly shiny, bright yellow posing trunks, flexing and showing off his insanely shredded, freakishly muscular physique in the cockiest and most animated fashion during his two man posedown with Justin Hughes. And yet, walking next to him in public, his skin still deliciously dark from the competition tan but his physique fully covered up by his black tracksuit, he seemed almost as unfathomably hot as he had done crunching down on his beautifully shaped and phenomenally shredded nickname earning abs in the pump room.

This was probably part due to the fact that in the ordinary street setting, and without a dozen other abnormally sized muscle bulls to compete for attention with, Mr Gorgeous Abs suddenly seemed twice the size he had been backstage at the show. I also couldn’t help feeling amused at the fact that he was still clutching his second place bodybuilding trophy as he walked along the street. I had no idea what I would have done if, on that journey to the hotel room, one or more of my college friends happened to be strolling along the same street in the opposite direction.

Stuart Fox wasn’t likely to cause any raised eyebrows, but I’m not sure how I’d explain why I was in the company of the excessively tanned, wide as a brick shithouse guy in the black tracksuit clutching the miniature trophy of a carved out muscle man to my right. Further more, I had already sensed a few lingering stares from the small number of people the three of us had passed on the journey to Mr Gorgeous Abs’ hotel room.

Through the nerves, apprehension and excitement at, not only being in the presence of Mr Gorgeous Abs, but also the prospect of filming him in such an intimate setting, I couldn’t deny I was extremely turned on by the excessively built, bronzed coloured muscle bull I had found myself in the company of. It wasn’t until I entered his hotel room, however, that this seemed to kick into full force. Within seconds of him closing the door, I was once again sporting a full, raging hard on.

Watching Mr Gorgeous Abs place his trophy on the desk in his hotel room, while Stuart and I awkwardly stood at the end of his bed, shooting each other nervous looks and not really knowing what to do with ourselves, I suddenly pictured a similar whiteboard to the one I’d imagined displaying the results of Stuart Fox’s pump room game. Only this board had a different title and accompanying text.

TIMES MY HEAD ALMOST EXPLODED BECAUSE SOMETHING COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY AMAZING HAPPENED DURING MY WORK EXPERIENCE PLACEMENT

#1. When Stuart Fox started instructing our first filming subject Mr Golden Posers on what poses to hit.

#2. When Stuart Fox turned, and asked me, to instruct Mr Golden Posers on what poses to hit!

#3. When Chris “Freaky Peaks” Jackson’s tanning buddie brilliantly exclaimed, “Those abs are looking sick Chris!”

#4. The moment Mr Gorgeous Abs unexpectedly intruded on our filming of Justin Hughes.

#5. Watching Mr Gorgeous Abs’ outrageous reaction to Justin Hughes’ gloriously thick, ridiculously developed and freakishly striated glutes during their two man posedown, and the comical and bonkers moment he pretended to run away to avoid competing with them.

#6. When Mr Gorgeous Abs unexpectedly invited me and Stuart Fox to his hotel room.

#7. Standing with Stuart Fox in the middle of Mr Gorgeous Abs’ fucking hotel room!

I was still feeling a crippling shyness and had barely spoken on the journey to the hotel, only really responding to Stuart Fox as he informed Mr Gorgeous Abs that I was from England and only in California studying temporarily. This was followed by the discovery that our new filming subject was based in Denver, and due to fly back home the following morning, as the three of us indulged in polite, friendly small talk. It wasn’t until we were in the hotel room that Mr Gorgeous Abs properly introduced himself, and allowed me to talk to him directly for the first time.

“Thanks for doing this, guys. I won’t keep you away from the show for long. I’m Tommy, by the way. I didn’t get your names.”

In typically confident fashion, Stuart informed the newly named Tommy, which somehow seemed to suit him perfectly, of his name, before Tommy reached out his huge, bronzed hand for Stuart to shake.

My stomach twisted in anticipation that it was undoubtedly my turn next. I suddenly felt more nervous than I had done since I’d made my way to my first filming subject, Mr Golden Posers, in the pump room.

As Tommy/Mr Gorgeous Abs turned to face me, my mind went blank and I was rendered completely speechless. Presumably sensing my nerves, Stuart Fox rescued me and spoke for me. “And this is Charlie.”

In the warmest, friendliest tone you could imagine a 220 lbs, shredded to buggery, competitive bodybuilding muscle freak adopting, Mr Gorgeous Abs addressed me. “Hi, Charlie!”

OHGODOHGODOHGOD!!

“Nice to meet you.”

HUMMANA HUMMANA HUMMANA!!

Before I had time to go into complete panic mode, Tommy’s hand was firmly gripping mine. His hand was warm and strong, and his bronzed tinted skin felt surprisingly soft. The chemistry I felt was explosive, and I was completely baffled at the fact that one man had the capability to turn me on to such a degree just by a simple hand shake. I was certain in that moment that all it would take from this incredibly hot male specimen to cause my dick to explode in my pants was a firm, prolonged hug.

I offered up a nervous smile as the most awkward and muffled sounding, “Hiya,” tumbled from my mouth. In response, the left corner of Mr Gorgeous Abs’ mouth curled slightly into a cheeky and mysterious smirk. I couldn’t help wondering whether he was getting a kick out of the fact that he made me so nervous.

As he turned his back to us, I glanced at Stuart Fox, who, clearly amused at my sudden increased nervousness, was affectionately smirking at me. As Tommy retrieved a digital camera from his holdall, he explained to us how he’d been filming and uploading posing videos in the lead up to the day’s competition to show his progress. Unfortunately his training partner, who had been shooting the videos, hadn’t been able to attend the show, which was why he needed our assistance.

As Tommy/Mr Gorgeous Abs explained this, I couldn’t refrain from thinking how it would be relatively easy for him to just position the camera so it was facing him and actually film the video himself, rather than going through the effort of dragging two camera men back to his hotel room.

The logical answer, of course, was that he was simply just inexperienced, or maybe even completely hopeless when it came to operating cameras or using technology. The optimistic side of me, however, was wondering whether Mr Gorgeous Abs actually just wanted an audience.

Mr Gorgeous reached his camera out in the direction of me and Stuart.“ So, which one of you guys wants to shoot?”

I looked at Stuart Fox, who was giving me a wide eyed expression and signalling towards the camera for my offering. Whether this was a return gesture from when I similarly gave him the camera to shoot the insanely cute Justin Hughes earlier in the pump room, or whether, similar to my actual motives on that occasion, he simply wanted to sit back and enjoy watching a competition conditioned bodybuilder pose and flex in front of him camera free I wasn’t sure. Regardless, I gave him a bashful smile of gratitude and took the camera from Mr Gorgeous Abs.

After proceeding to show me the button to press to start filming, Tommy/Mr Gorgeous Abs took a few steps back. “Alright, let’s get these off!” he muttered to himself, as he proceeded to unzip his tracksuit jacket. Fully expecting to see the material of a t-shirt hiding underneath, I almost gasped when, instead, I was faced with the sight of his exceptionally muscular, beautifully carved and bronze tinted torso.

Not only was it the most unsuspecting and breathtaking image, but I also couldn’t deny how much I loved the fact that Mr Gorgeous Abs had been walking around in public with no shirt or vest underneath his jacket, and neither Stuart nor I had had any idea.

I had been impressed with Mr Gorgeous Abs’ physique in the pump room, but somehow his body was even more phenomenal in the setting of his perfectly ordinary hotel room. He pulled his pants down to reveal his bright yellow, shiny posing clad bulge and incredible quads, which, while not being quite as insanely shredded and freakishly conditioned as his former pump room posedown buddie Justin Hughes’, were undoubtedly a very close second.

He looked down as his own inhuman looking legs as he tensed them to reveal insane detail. In completely arrogant fashion, he muttered a quiet but cocky, “Yeah!” underneath his breath, in admiration of his own freaky wheels.

Fully expecting him to remove his white socks next, instead, Mr Gorgeous Abs positioned himself a few feet away from Stuart and I. After instructing me to start filming, he looked into the digital camera to address his viewers.

“What’s up, guys? Tommy Foster here giving you a post competition update. I managed second place in the middleweights. Very happy with my placing and the package I bought today. First place went to my boy, Justin Hughes. Crazily conditioned physique, twenty one years old and now a pro bodybuilder! I put on one hell of a show on that stage today guys. You know me, I always like to have a little fun with my posing and…”

At this point Mr Gorgeous Abs momentarily paused his speech, unexpectedly clasped his left wrist with his right hand and hit a small most muscular pose while scrunching up his face in an incredibly hot and brilliantly animated fashion and letting out a short, sharp “AHHHHH!” similar to the ones I’d already heard when he was cranking out his poses in the pump room. It was the most outrageously cheeky move which, for some reason, caused my cheeks to instantly flush.

“…show a bit of attitude when I flex. So for this last video in the series, instead of just hitting some poses, what I’m gonna do for you guys is show you my posing routine.”

TIMES MY HEAD ALMOST EXPLODED BECAUSE SOMETHING COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY AMAZING HAPPENED DURING MY WORK EXPERIENCE PLACEMENT

#8. Mr Gorgeous Abs announcing he was going to perform a posing routine, in his hotel room!! HOLY! FUCKING! FUUUUUUCK!!

“I’ve got the music right here on my phone. Obviously I won’t be able to move around as much as I do on stage, so it will be a slightly static version, but it will give you guys an idea of how I really ripped up that stage today. Thanks to all my viewers out there for sticking with me through these progress videos. For one last time, let’s get some poses for you guys.”

As Tommy started fiddling with his phone to turn on his posing music, a wide eyed Stuart glanced at me, looking as surprised and excited at Tommy’s revelation, and the prospect of what we were about to witness, as I was.

I’d seen videos of some incredibly cocky posing routines in my time. Given the attitude I’d already seen Tommy displaying in the pump room during his posedown with Justin Hughes, which had earned him the title of the most outrageously cocky poser in the room, I knew I was about to witness another one. Only this time it would be in person, in an intimate setting, and for the benefit of a camera I happened to be holding.

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"TIMES MY HEAD ALMOST EXPLODED" – Part Seven does bring back some memories.  ?

Your writing is so totally spot on, capturing the whirl of excitement, apprehension, raw heat, admiration, and near-breathless awe that comes from being that close to serious muscle.  Excellent, excellent writing.

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32 minutes ago, crushme99 said:

"TIMES MY HEAD ALMOST EXPLODED" – Part Seven does bring back some memories.  ?

Your writing is so totally spot on, capturing the whirl of excitement, apprehension, raw heat, admiration, and near-breathless awe that comes from being that close to serious muscle.  Excellent, excellent writing.

Wow!! Thank you for the amazing feedback matie! Coming from someone of your experience I take that as high praise indeed! ?

Parts 7-9 are amongst my personal favourites of the story!

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