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AJ & Noah


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Six

Every single time I’ve been on a second date with someone I’ve met from the Internet, it’s gone considerably better than the first. There’s no first date nerves of having to spend the evening with someone you don’t know, or potentially might not like. And, perhaps more importantly, there’s a confidence that comes with knowing both parties actually liked each other enough that they wanted to meet for a second time.

My date with Eddie was no exception. Since saying goodbye to AJ that morning, the rest of the day had taken on an almost poignant tone. With my head fluctuating from sadness that AJ Jones would never be more than just an old school friend who’d transformed into a genuine, bona fide muscle bull, who I’d amazingly ended up having a personal training session with, to feeling this incredible buzz that that very experience had actually happened in the first place.

That had subsided a little as I’d ventured out to spend the evening with Eddie. It was one of those summer nights where you walked out of the house and it felt like anything was possible. The pubs were packed, with people spilling out onto the street. Eddie and I were sitting by the window of a bar slightly trendier than the one we’d been to on our first night. We’d taken advantage of a two for one cocktail deal, my choice of which just so happened to be the strongest cocktail I’d ever tasted. I was only on my second one and already feeling tipsy when I started to tell Eddie about my personal training session.

“Ooooh! So you’re going to be all big and buff in a few weeks then?”

I grinned uncontrollably at the suggestion. Probably way more than I should have. I suddenly felt like I’d had just a tiny slither of an idea of what AJ must have felt like when people praised him for being a shredded, flexing, mini muscle monster in tiny, shiny posers.

“I’d like to meet this personal trainer!” Eddie exclaimed. Every time AJ came up in mine and Eddie’s conversations I felt this incredible buzz.

“Well, you obviously think he’s hot,” Eddie continued. “Every time you mention him your face lights up and you have this cute little grin on your face.”

FUCKING BUSTED!

“Hmmm. He is kinda hot,” I replied. And then I gave Eddie a coy smile, which I knew completely gave away my feelings. With the alcohol diminishing my inhibitions I felt a surge of bravery.

“Wanna see a picture?” I asked.

Eddie said yes, and as I took my phone out of my pocket, my heart started to pound. I would never have done it sober and I knew that I was risking freaking Eddie out by showing him a picture of a shredded, tanned up bodybuilder cranking out poses on stage with his face scrunched up, his mouth wide open or his tongue sticking out.

As very such pictures of AJ flashed up on my phone, my stomach twisted and I suddenly regretted my offer to Eddie, so I quickly scrolled through to find a less extreme photo. I landed on one of him on holiday wearing a vest and sunglasses and flexing his biceps for the camera.. An oh-so cheeky grin on his face, and looking heart meltingly cute.

“Oh my God!” Eddie exclaimed in shock when he looked at my phone. Which made me laugh, and wonder what his reaction would have been if I had shown him one of AJ’s competition shots.

“He’s HUGE!” Eddie cried.

“This is a guy who used to have sleepovers at my house!”

“So, is that what you’re gonna look like then by the end of the Summer?”

I scoffed. “Hardly!”

“Well I’d fully support you if I did. But I think you look fine as you are!” he said. “More than fine.”

Oh God. I had absolutely no doubts about Eddie’s intentions at that point. And while I did enjoy his company, I still wasn’t completely convinced that I liked him as anything more than a friend. Even though a part of me wanted to.

After a third cocktail we headed to the pub where we’d had our first date. The music was cranked up high and it seemed twice as busy as it had been the week before. At that point, I was feeling a bit drunk, but it was a nice, happy drunk. My limbs didn’t feel quite so stiff and heavy from my monster training session either.

We bumped into two slightly older guys that Eddie knew. They were friendly and nice and one of them obviously liked me by the way he was talking to me and looking at me. The fact he asked if Eddie and I were “together” was a bit of a give away too. I told him we were on a “sort of date” and hoped Eddie hadn’t heard me, because I was pretty sure he’d very much categorise the evening as a date (no sort of’s about it).

As we drank and talked in the pub’s garden area I was very much in the present and not thinking about any of the other events of the day, or the past week. All of that changed, however, when I checked my phone for the time in a while to find a Facebook notification waiting for me. My heart literally felt like it was about to burst, because staring back at me from the screen of my phone were the words: AJ Jones has sent you a message.

With my head spinning, I headed to the toilets. I could not open AJ’s message in front of Eddie. Or anyone for that matter. I was scared of what my face might give away. As I retreated and walked past the crowd of pub goers I literally could not stop smiling. Because AJ had messaged me on Facebook. Fucking YES!

Locked in one of the toilet cubicles, my heart pounded as I opened up his message.

“How are the legs?” And there was an emoji too. The one with the big teeth bearing smile. It suited him perfectly.

I wrote a message back. “Hehe! A little sore. I think the alcohol is numbing the pain a bit.” I included my favourite emoji. The cheeky one with the one eye closed and the tongue sticking out. The “AJ emoji”. As soon as I hit send I regretted the, “Hehe!” Because only a fucking twelve year old girl would say, “Hehe!”

“Hehe! PISSHEAD!”

I laughed at his reply. Twelve year old girls and lime green posing trunk wearing competitive bodybuilders with twenty inch biceps, apparently.

Three dots appeared. AJ was writing another message.

“Hmmm. Funny, but I don’t remember putting beer on the diet plan I made you.”

I was grinning like crazy. I couldn’t believe how engaging in cheeky banter with a bodybuilder over Facebook was causing such a fucking rush.

I replied to his message. “I know! It’s bad.”

And it was only because I was drunk that I had the courage to write what I did next.

“I’ll never be a shredded muscle freak like you.”

As soon as I sent it I panicked. Fuck, bugger, fuck, I thought. Why the HELL did I just write that? But then his reply came.

“HAHA! I told you. You’ve gotta come to Scorpio’s for that!”

I relaxed instantly and felt like I was gonna melt into the cubicle door. Fuck, I love this! I thought.

“Gulp! I’m worried I’d be mistaken for a bodybuilder’s one of six meals a day and getting gobbled up whole.”

Three dots.

“HAHAHA!!” And then he sent two crying with laughter emoji’s.

I made a bodybuilder laugh. I just made a fucking bodybuilder laugh! OK, that means me and AJ are now officially boyfriends, right?

And then he sent his best message yet.

“I’ll look after you.”

And suddenly my heart wanted to burst. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever wanted anything more than I wanted to be looked after by AJ Jones in that moment.

I had no idea how to respond to that message. A gay guy tells you that and you smile, or blush or you say, “Awwww” or, “Bless you”. But what’s the appropriate response when it’s coming from a two hundred pounds future 212 class bodybuilder?

And then it hit me.

“My very own bodyguard? Awesome!”

I had no idea whether it was a good response, or a shit one. AJ paused for a few moments. No dots. And then he sent the “AJ emoji”. Sometimes people use emoji’s when they don’t know what to say. I think that was one those times. But then he followed it up.

“Yep! If any muscle bull tries to put you in a protein shake, I’ll squeeze a mean most muscular in their face. GRAAARR!”

OH MY FUCKING GOD!!

I couldn’t believe he’d used the words “most muscular”, which just so happened to be the bodybuilding pose which turned me on the most. I also couldn’t help picturing AJ squaring up to some meathead bodybuilder in the gym and cranking out that very pose in defence of me. His huge slabs of muscle bulging out of a white gym vest. His mouth wide open as he aggressively roared in the face of his victim. “GRAAARR!” FUCK YEAH!!

Another message from AJ came through.

“Sorry! Most muscular = bodybuilding term.”

I grinned at the irony of the message, but also suddenly had the overwhelming urge to tell AJ I knew exactly what a most muscular is. Along with every other official bodybuilding pose, and probably every other “bodybuilder term” that he did, for that matter.

Three dots.

“You’ll get to know all about those when I take you to Scorpio’s.”

I started to wonder whether AJ was actually serious about taking me to the hardcore bodybuilding gym which had played a huge part in his journey to becoming a huge, shredded muscle bull.

And then another thought came into my mind. What if AJ was taking the piss? What if he was with a group of his bodybuilder mates right now who were all crowded round him and laughing at my messages? What if AJ had told them all about this gay guy he used to be friends with at school who he’d trained that morning and who could barely push 50 kilograms on the chest press? And they’d dared him to message me and they were all looking at his phone in that moment, laughing and taking the piss?

I realised I’d been in the toilet cubicle for an usually long amount of time, so I replied to him with a single “AJ emoji” and headed back to Eddie and his mates.

“We thought you’d gotten lost!” Eddie cheekily said.

“Or pulled!” one of his friend’s added.

“He better not have done!” Eddie exclaimed.

Fuck. I was starting to think that maybe my chance to tell Eddie that I was actually just looking for drinking buddies and nothing more had gone. And yet, that didn’t stop me from kissing him again at the end of the night. Maybe kissing him in that moment was just the easiest thing to do?

I got a text from Eddie on the train journey home.

“Thanks for another great night out, handsome. That kiss was definitely more intense than last time! x”

I smiled as I looked at the text and a warm feeling washed over me. Maybe I could grow to like Eddie as more than a friend? He was handsome, smart, funny and nice. The type of guy I should be going for. The type of guy I would probably eventually end up with one day.

But you either feel the butterflies, or you don’t. And so far, with Eddie, they just weren’t there. And then I thought about AJ Jones. For the forty-fifth time that day. Impossibly cute AJ with his twenty inch biceps and t-shirt straining muscle tits and his cheeky, funny Facebook messages.

And holy fuck, the butterflies. One hundred thousand, fuck off massive butterflies.

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Ugh, I love it, the tension between possibly going for what you dream about (AJ) vs a great guy who obviously likes you (Eddie). If I know you, MuscleAddict, you'll find a way to marry the best of both worlds! Loving the story man!

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On 9/2/2018 at 3:25 PM, anormorph said:

I just powered through parts 4 to 6 to catch up!  A million more thanks, MuscleAddict, for this story!

Awww. Bless you, mate! And a huge thanks to you for reading and commenting!! I really appreciate all the awesome comments. ?

On 9/2/2018 at 5:08 PM, Built22 said:

absolutely the best!!

keep the chapters coming!!! its building up to something epic!!

?

Really glad you're enjoying, matie! I hope the rest of it doesn't disappoint! ?

19 hours ago, kutam said:

NOAH, GO TO SCORPIO'S.

He does!! ?

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21 hours ago, Kamaswami said:

Ugh, I love it, the tension between possibly going for what you dream about (AJ) vs a great guy who obviously likes you (Eddie). If I know you, MuscleAddict, you'll find a way to marry the best of both worlds! Loving the story man!

Thank you as always, matie!! ? Looking forward to seeing what you think of the rest of it! ?

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Seven

When I woke up early the next morning, I felt like I was fucking dying. What was this pain? In my head. In my arms. In my legs. Oh my GOD, my fucking legs. The way I was feeling was clearly the price for having a personal training session with an absurdly sexy bodybuilder, who I’d later indulged in cheeky, friendly banter with on Facebook.

And then it hit me, and the pain was temporarily relieved. AJ Jones had messaged me on Facebook the night before. What the FUCK?!

I looked at the conversation again on my phone and I was fairly convinced that it was genuine, and not, as I’d momentarily suspected last night, some kind of prank his friends had put him up to. Because what would be funny about that? And oh yeah, AJ’s friends probably aren’t twelve years old.

I grinned like mad as I re-read his messages. “Come to Scorpio’s”. “I’ll squeeze a mean most muscular in their face”. “I’ll look after you”.

I suddenly imagined AJ lying next to me in bed. One of his enormous arms wrapped around me. My head resting on his huge chest as he softly kissed the top of my head, nursing me better.

Looking at the messages again, I realised that I kind of killed off the conversation with that single emoji. I needed to redeem myself. Considerably more nervous than I’d been while messaging him the night before, I composed a reply.

“MY LEGS ARE KILLING ME!!”

I hit send, but nothing came back. Fuck! Why had I used capital letters? At the time I thought they were funny and dramatic. Now they just looked like I was trying too hard.

Walking to the bathroom was a monumental task. My legs really were fucking killing me. All this pain for what? The ability to maybe wear a vest by the end of summer, which I’ll still, no doubt, feel incredibly self conscious in? Fuck that! When I eagerly checked my phone on return to my bed, AJ still hadn’t replied.

I hate that torturous feeling of waiting for someone you like to get back to you. After checking my phone for what felt like about six hundred times I managed to go back to sleep. I woke up an hour later, head considerably less fuzzy but still aching all over. My whole body then seemed to go into a kind of excited jolt when I saw a notification on my phone screen. AJ had replied to my message. Fuck YES!

“HAHA!” (Capital letters!) “Well you can’t say I didn’t warn you, mate!”

Ridiculously, the word “mate” stung. Seriously? I was fucking upset because a bodybuilder called me mate? I am an absolutely ridiculous human being, I thought. What the fuck else was he supposed to call me? But a warm feeling was buzzing through me at the fact that AJ had replied.

I compiled a message. “If this is what it takes, I’m not sure I want to be a shredded muscle freak after all.” But I bottled it, erased the message and wrote another one.

“It just took me twenty minutes to walk to the bathroom!”

AJ sent the crying with laughter face emoji.

I couldn’t resist following it up. “I almost gave up and pissed myself on the landing.”

“HAHAHA!! Wait till the morning after your first session at your soon to be new gym, Scorpio’s!” And then he sent three of the AJ emoji’s.

I giddly grinned at the reference to our conversation last night.

“I’ll need more than just a bodyguard. I’ll need an on site paramedic.”

“The pain won’t be as bad next time. Promise! You’re body’s just not used to it.”

There was something incredibly sweet about that “promise”. I’ll look after you. Promise! The pain will go away. Promise! I’ll let you squeeze my outrageously flexed bicep until you shoot a load in your undies and then I’ll cuddle the fuck out of you afterwards. Promise!

A serious question then popped into my head. A question which could even make the idea of me going to Scorpio’s less of a fantasy.

“Are you a personal trainer at Scorpio’s, too?”

Three dots.

“Nah. We do have trainers though.”

Curiously, AJ asked me if I wanted to see one. He told me to “brace myself” and then my head almost exploded when he sent me a picture of a huge, roided muscle bull on stage at a bodybuilding show, flexing a massive crab most muscular in a pair of shiny, purple posing trunks. FUCKING HELL! He was a bit of a daddy, as bald as a coot (hmmm, make that TWO coots) and, though round around the edges in a very British working class way, he was sexy as fucking hell. He was exactly the type of bodybuilder I’d happily spunk off to and I was instantly hard.

I was also fucking buzzing at the fact AJ had sent me such a picture. The kind of picture I usually only shared with my fellow muscle loving contacts over the Internet. I messaged him back with three shocked faces emojis and followed it with, “He’s a monster!”

“HAHA! Yep.”

I couldn’t resist going further.

“He barely looks human!”

“HA! I love that!” AJ messaged.

“Shredded to the bone.”

Oh God. Did I actually just send that?

AJ sent a shocked emoji face, then a, “Fuck yeah!” which, for some reason, caused my dick to start furiously juddering. I was engaging in cheeky, friendly, bodybuilding relating banter with an actual bodybuilder and it was both the horniest and most exciting thing in the world.

“You’re picking up the lingo!” AJ then messaged.

I sent the AJ emoji and couldn’t resist elaborating on his comment.

“Fuck yeah! Look at that huge shredded muscle freak squeezing out a mean most muscular! How was that?!” My heart was pounding as I sent it and I was insanely turned on.

“HAHA! Perfect, mate. You’ll fit right in at Scorpio’s!”

I sent the AJ emoji again. God, I loved messaging him. Even more than I had the night before.

Three dots. AJ was composing another message.

“His name’s Mark Green. He’s this year’s regional bodybuilding champion. He’s about 6’3 too!”

“Oh my God! He really would mistake me for one of his six meals a day.”

“Hehe. believe it or not he’s actually a really sweet guy . Really gentle. Kinda shy!”

What the fuck?! The idea that a 6’3 champion bodybuilding muscle monster in shiny purple posers could be described as any of those things completely baffled me.

“No way!” I replied.

“Yep. He’s kinda like a bodybuilder version of you.”

And then my heart went into my throat. What a fucking weird thing for AJ to say. Likening me to a bodybuilder? Pointing out my personality traits? Why would AJ spend any time thinking about what my personality was like? My heart started to thump and I wondered, was there any, actual small chance that something more was going on with AJ and I? And then I felt utterly ridiculous. Because of course there fucking wasn’t. AJ didn’t need to be interested in me to notice my personality traits. He was clearly just perceptive and thoughtful. Which all just made me like him even more.

I stared at the screen. I had no idea how to appropriately respond to his comment. He wasn’t typing either. No dots. Fuck, fuck, fuck. And then it came to me.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d make a very good bodybuilder. I think I’d shit myself on stage!”

AJ replied. “Hehe! Believe it or not, the first time I competed I was bricking it.”

I didn’t believe it. I’d seen the pictures of AJ on stage and saw the kind of playful, cheeky and cocky attitude he’d adopted when he hit his poses. For some reason the idea of AJ being all nervous made my heart swell.

“No way! I can’t imagine it!” I messaged.

“Yep. I got over it pretty fast, though!” And there it was again. The AJ emoji with the one eye closed and the tongue sticking out. I’d always loved that emoji, but I loved it even more since AJ had started using it.

“I KNOW. I’ve seen the pictures!”

“Hehe! I promise I’m not that cocky off stage. It’s just sort of what bodybuilders do when they compete!”

“Hmmm. I believe you!” I replied.

“It’s true! I don’t strut around sticking my tongue out at people in Tesco’s or anything!”

“HAHA!! I didn’t notice a strut.” I messaged.

“Maybe a bit of a waddle?”

“Hmmm. Maybe a bit. Now you mention it!”

As if I hadn’t noticed that fucking waddle. As if that waddle hadn’t been permanently imprinted on my muscle obsessed brain.

“HAHA! Every bodybuilder wants to have a waddle. Don’t worry about being shy though. I’ll give you plenty of posing tips!” AJ messaged.

“You might have your work cut out for you.”

“Nah! We’ll have you strutting around in a pair of posers sticking your tongue out as you flex a front double bicep in no time.”

OH MY FUCKING GOD! Posers! He just fucking said the word, posers!

Before I could respond, three more dots appeared.

“Sorry. More bodybuilding terms.”

And then the most insanely amazing thing happened. He sent me through a picture of his lime green posers. The exceptionally shiny ones from his Facebook pictures of him in competition. Just lying there on what was presumably the blue duvet of his bed. FUCKING HELL!! Was this actually happening?!

“These are posers. Or posing trunks. Fetching, huh?”

I laughed. “Oh, very! Is that your outfit for the gym?”

“HAHA! No, but I could probably get away with that!” And then the AJ emoji came through again.

What a fucking image!

“They’re more comfortable than they look. You’ll find out soon.”

FUCKING FUCK FUCK!

My dick was going crazy and I couldn’t resist a cheeky tug under my duvet. My heart then sank when his next message came through.

“Sorry, mate. Gotta dash. Shift at job #2. Tesco’s.” And a sad emoji face.

I couldn’t resist. “Will you be wearing your posers?”

“HAHA!! I’d probably get arrested. I’d definitely get fired!”

And then I had an image of AJ strutting through Tesco’s wearing nothing but his shiny, lime green posers and a gorgeous, cocky grin. Walking up to every unsuspecting shopper he came to and squeezing out an attitude filled, power packed pose. Tongue out, gob open, grunts and groans, the works.

I said goodbye to AJ and put down my phone. My whole body was bursting with adrenaline. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. The picture of 6’3 muscle monster, Mark Green, the cheeky banter, the picture of the posers lying on his bed (fuck!), the “bodybuilder version of you”. I was absolutely buzzing. The conversation had also left me ridiculously horny. I was tempted to wank off to the picture of Mark. I was even tempted to wank off to the picture of AJ’s posing trunks. But I didn’t. Because it didn’t quite feel right.

So I headed to YouTube and chose a video of my favourite 212 class bodybuilder, Tommy “The Tank” Foster, instead. He was probably about the same height as AJ, and just as outrageously cocky with his posing.

After I shot a huge load into my boxers the moment Tommy crunched down into an abs and thighs, I rolled over and spent the rest of the morning dozing in and out sleep with this warm, happy feeling buzzing through me. But it wasn’t the famous American pro bodybuilder I’d just blown a load to who was occupying my every thought. It was the boy I’d just been exchanging the most amazing messages with.

I was thinking about his lime green posers. Fantasising about being at Scorpio’s with him, where he’d take me under his wing and look after me. Maybe even teach me how to pose. Tell me what faces to pull when I flexed on stage. I thought about him working at Tesco in his tight, blue polo shirt at that very moment, thinking about our conversation. And I couldn’t help picturing him wearing a similar, giddy grin to mine as he did.

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