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  • 2 weeks later...

Chapter 9 - Dan

I was examining my body in the mirror this morning, seeing all the changes that had taken place since I first joined the rugby team. There was definitely more of me, evidenced through my arms and stomach that had taken a liking to all the food I was eating. A pronounced chest, finally, and some semblance of abs beneath a layer of fat covering my stomach. I quickly pulled down my pants and looked at my legs, bigger for sure, and found my underwear starting to fill out in the backside as well.

 

My frame had taken in the extra weight, maybe not gracefully, but noticeably. I was heavier, stronger, shirts fit me better, and I was starting to feel like all the work I was doing was worth it.

 

“Damn, dude, you’re getting big!” I heard Ryan say groggily as he just woke up.

 

I yanked my pants up and pulled my shirt on, embarrassed, and mumbled out “Haha, thanks.”

 

“It looks like joining the team has really worked for you. What are you weighing now?” He asked.

 

“Um, 195,” I said softly.

 

“Shit, that’s unbelievable! You look great. One of the team already! Damn, I should have jumped on it too. Next year, I guess.” Ryan turned around and went back to sleep.

 

It really was unbelievable. In a month since I joined the team, I had gained 25 pounds through all the workouts and eating. I wasn’t blinded by the idea of pure muscle growth; I knew most of this weight was fat, evidenced by my expanding lower stomach. But Jack had always said that fat is good for this sport, and you needed to eat big to gain weight. I wasn’t trying to be a cut runner after all, I joined the rugby team for a reason.

 

I wasn’t afraid of extra weight, but I was wary of how it would effect me down the line. My face was filling out, and I was worried if I take this too far I might actually get fat. The muscle I gained hasn’t been entirely evident, either.

 

Whatever worries I had were stripped away at that morning’s weigh-in, where I tipped the scales at 203 pounds. I was shocked by the number, thinking what I had done so far couldn’t produce these results, but when Jack slapped me on the back and said “nice job, big guy!” The fears dissipated.

 

Now that it was October, the weather was more chilly and after our arm workout, I put on a hoodie and met up with Emily for breakfast. Knowing her, obviously, the conversation immediately went to my infiltration of the team.

 

“How is it going? Do you like the team? Are they hotter up close? How is your progress?” She fired off, rapid-speed.

 

“Um, good, yes, yes, and going well,” I responded. “This morning, I weighed in at 203.”

 

“POUNDS? That’s amazing! Let me see!” She shouted.

 

“Keep your voice down! But fine.” I took my hoodie off and underneath was a tight workout shirt from a month ago, hugging my body much better than before. It was a bit unfair because my arms were pumped and looked great, but I liked the way my chest pressed against the fabric.

 

“Holy shit, stud! It’s working! How do you feel?” She asked, eyes wide open.

 

“Uh, bigger. But it’s nice. I needed to put on some winter weight anyway.”

 

“I’ll say. Let’s get some food, I know your coach will go bananas if you don’t eat 5 milliseconds after a workout or whatever…” She said, standing up.

 

“Not quite, but I do need to eat a lot,” I said as I patted my stomach.

 

3 minutes later, I returned with heaps of food: About 4 eggs, 2 pieces of toast, a coffee, and 2 bananas, and I put the protein shake I brought with me on the table. She came back with much less.

 

“Eat big to get big indeed,” she stared. “How do you eat all that?”

 

“Jack always says it’s for the gains, so I just remember that,” I said. “Oh! Almost forgot!” I took out the pill bottle used for protein recovery, popped one in my mouth, and washed it down with water.

 

“Okay, meathead,” Emily said. “Just don’t get too big.”

 

“With this team, I never know.” I replied and started eating.

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On 9/23/2020 at 3:38 PM, bosx said:

Chapter 9 - Dan

I was examining my body in the mirror this morning, seeing all the changes that had taken place since I first joined the rugby team. There was definitely more of me, evidenced through my arms and stomach that had taken a liking to all the food I was eating. A pronounced chest, finally, and some semblance of abs beneath a layer of fat covering my stomach. I quickly pulled down my pants and looked at my legs, bigger for sure, and found my underwear starting to fill out in the backside as well.

 

My frame had taken in the extra weight, maybe not gracefully, but noticeably. I was heavier, stronger, shirts fit me better, and I was starting to feel like all the work I was doing was worth it.

 

“Damn, dude, you’re getting big!” I heard Ryan say groggily as he just woke up.

 

I yanked my pants up and pulled my shirt on, embarrassed, and mumbled out “Haha, thanks.”

 

“It looks like joining the team has really worked for you. What are you weighing now?” He asked.

 

“Um, 195,” I said softly.

 

“Shit, that’s unbelievable! You look great. One of the team already! Damn, I should have jumped on it too. Next year, I guess.” Ryan turned around and went back to sleep.

 

It really was unbelievable. In a month since I joined the team, I had gained 25 pounds through all the workouts and eating. I wasn’t blinded by the idea of pure muscle growth; I knew most of this weight was fat, evidenced by my expanding lower stomach. But Jack had always said that fat is good for this sport, and you needed to eat big to gain weight. I wasn’t trying to be a cut runner after all, I joined the rugby team for a reason.

 

I wasn’t afraid of extra weight, but I was wary of how it would effect me down the line. My face was filling out, and I was worried if I take this too far I might actually get fat. The muscle I gained hasn’t been entirely evident, either.

 

Whatever worries I had were stripped away at that morning’s weigh-in, where I tipped the scales at 203 pounds. I was shocked by the number, thinking what I had done so far couldn’t produce these results, but when Jack slapped me on the back and said “nice job, big guy!” The fears dissipated.

 

Now that it was October, the weather was more chilly and after our arm workout, I put on a hoodie and met up with Emily for breakfast. Knowing her, obviously, the conversation immediately went to my infiltration of the team.

 

“How is it going? Do you like the team? Are they hotter up close? How is your progress?” She fired off, rapid-speed.

 

“Um, good, yes, yes, and going well,” I responded. “This morning, I weighed in at 203.”

 

“POUNDS? That’s amazing! Let me see!” She shouted.

 

“Keep your voice down! But fine.” I took my hoodie off and underneath was a tight workout shirt from a month ago, hugging my body much better than before. It was a bit unfair because my arms were pumped and looked great, but I liked the way my chest pressed against the fabric.

 

“Holy shit, stud! It’s working! How do you feel?” She asked, eyes wide open.

 

“Uh, bigger. But it’s nice. I needed to put on some winter weight anyway.”

 

“I’ll say. Let’s get some food, I know your coach will go bananas if you don’t eat 5 milliseconds after a workout or whatever…” She said, standing up.

 

“Not quite, but I do need to eat a lot,” I said as I patted my stomach.

 

3 minutes later, I returned with heaps of food: About 4 eggs, 2 pieces of toast, a coffee, and 2 bananas, and I put the protein shake I brought with me on the table. She came back with much less.

 

“Eat big to get big indeed,” she stared. “How do you eat all that?”

 

“Jack always says it’s for the gains, so I just remember that,” I said. “Oh! Almost forgot!” I took out the pill bottle used for protein recovery, popped one in my mouth, and washed it down with water.

 

“Okay, meathead,” Emily said. “Just don’t get too big.”

 

“With this team, I never know.” I replied and started eating.

fuck yea, loved this dude. Is Ryan gonna blow up too?

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  • 1 month later...

So, you consider "About 4 eggs, 2 pieces of toast, a coffee, and 2 bananas" as "heaps of food"? That sounds like an average-sized breakfast for an averaged-size man to me.

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  • 2 months later...
On 16.11.2020 at 7:32 PM, aitchbee said:

So, you consider "About 4 eggs, 2 pieces of toast, a coffee, and 2 bananas" as "heaps of food"? That sounds like an average-sized breakfast for an averaged-size man to me.

Depends on what you call average but that's not the topic here

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