dredlifter

m/m My Valentine's Day Fantasy Man

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dredlifter

So as you can guess from the title, I was really hoping I could get this posted last week.  But alas, life got in the way.  Hopefully you're still up for a little romance story in the spirit of V-Day.

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There’s nothing worse than having to work late on a Friday.  And I don’t care if it’s an hour or just ten minutes, once that clock strikes 5:00pm I need to be gone.  Most of the time I am able to bug out 30-60 minutes early on Fridays, but alas, today I had a proposal that needed to be completed by 5:00pm.  All of my office mates had already left, lucky bastards.  Today was Valentine’s Day and flowers and candies littered the desktops and they had all left to prepare for their own evening dates.  Finally at 4:33pm my last quotation arrived and I was able to finish my proposal and make sure it showed up in my outbox.  With a huff I packed up my computer laptop and departed the office at 5:04pm.  Still late.  Ugh!

 

On the drive home I couldn’t wait to get to the gym, my daily escape from office life.  It’s what I jokingly call ‘Miller time’.  Because my name is Miller and I love the gym.  I love exercising my body, the rush of endorphins, how I’m able to release those stresses that build up over the day slogged in front of my computer screen.  Not to mention, the added bonus of the potential to view some eye candy.

 

The gym has been part of my near daily routine now for about 10 years.  After college as I started to soften I made a commitment to keep myself in shape and I was proud to say that I had accomplished that goal.  Now, you may be thinking that I’m some big sexy bulging bodybuilder stud with how dedicated I am to my gym.  Well, I’d say I’m sexy at least.  But the truth is that I was cursed, or blessed some would say, to be a true hardgainer with a jackrabbit metabolism.  Now that’s not to say I’m a skinny either.  With a decade of dedication I’ve built my 5’9 frame up to a solid 165 lbs.  My wiry muscles are all evident when I take off my shirt, especially my abs.  With my low bodyfat I have a pleasing vascularity and defined creases between the muscle groups.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve been called a stud before, and even a couple of young 120-lbs twinks had referred to me as a “muscle guy” in the past.  My tight body combined with my good looks meant I’d never got any complaints.  The only real thing I’ve had to learn to overcome was my shy and reserved personality.  Thankfully as I’ve aged that has improved in tandem with the strides made in the gym.

 

While I had a tight, ripped body, I’d accepted the fact that I’d never be a huge bodybuilder.  And that was ok with me.  Truth be told, in my fantasies I enjoy the idea of being a smaller guy to a big pumped stud.  It’s a scenario that has played out in my mind countless times when I’m in the middle of my 45-minute cardio sessions.  

 

I do cardio five times a week.  I do lift weights, mostly full body-type routines, another three times to ensure the muscle I do have stays prominent, but for the most part I could be classified as a cardio bunny.  As I mentioned above, I’ve always been a bit of a dreamer and I’ve found those cardio sessions go by much quicker when I’m playing out a little fantasy in my mind.  Sometimes I had even jotted them down on paper afterwards and submitted them to my favorite muscle fetish websites.  Not gonna lie, I’ve received some excellent feedback on some of my tales.  As soon as my legs start trudging along that belt my mind runs wild with sexy bodybuilder-centric fantasies.  

 

So there I was rushing to get home and get into the gym, get a good sweat on and relieve some stress before the weekend.  Twenty-five minutes later I was in my gym and walking along on my regular treadmill, tucked away in a semi-private corner of the gym.  From here I could see most of the gym while still remaining semi-concealed.  Perfect for stud-gazing.  I looked around and nobody else was there.  Friday evenings were already notoriously dead.  Most of the younger gym bros and babes were eager to get out and party, showing off their toned bods to attract similarly built mates.  But even then, today was more dead than usual.  

 

Then I remembered again that it’s also Valentine’s Day.  That would likely do it, I think.  The remaining Friday stragglers are all probably are getting ready for a big Valentine’s day date, prepping and a primping for a night of romance.  

 

How cheesy.

 

Ok, Ok.  I’m not heartless.  Truth be told that sounds amazing.  In my 20’s I definitely thought the concept was pure cheese but now at 31 I could definitely see the appeal of a special night with a special someone.  Especially if that someone had a square jaw and some huge biceps.

 

After the five-minute warmup timer had ticked away its last few seconds I sped up the treadmill to my jogging speed.  What should today’s scenario be?, I think to myself.  Perhaps a reunion story.  Something with two long separated friends and one is now Olympia-esque.  Maybe a sexy librarian discovering secret muscle growth powder in a hidden closet?  How about a macro-muscle story involving a giant jacked football coach?  Maybe a humiliation story with one guy outgrowing and dominating his best friend.  Naw, only weirdos are into that sort of thing.  Plus, it’s Valentine’s day, so today’s scenario should lend itself to some romance.  

 

As I ran through the possibilities I, heard a soft clang of the gym door being opened and shut.  Unable to avoid the slight distraction I look over to see what other unlucky schlub is going to be working out alone with me this Valentine’s.

 

Immediately my spirits perk up as I recognize the man walking to the weight area across from me.  He is, in simplest terms, the hottest man I’ve ever seen.   

 

He’s a regular at this gym and has been for a few years now.  In fact…wait a minute.  Oh damn!  It’s been three years exactly since I first saw him.  Three years ago on Valentine’s Day.  I remember that vividly because just a week before my then-asshole boyfriend broke up with me.  Yeah, right before Valentine’s Day.  He’d been cheating on me with a supposedly straight hunk from the next city over.  I was so distraught I decided to go the gym that day to try for forget that I was single and broken-hearted that Cupid’s day.  Alas, that day quickly turned brighter as me and the other lonely gym-goers were treated to our first look at a new member.

 

That day three years ago he had strutted in with a large duffel bag slung around his beefy shoulders.  He was wearing a sleeveless gray shirt.  Instantly it became clear to anyone that he was the new top stud of this gym.  I remember praying to God that he wasn’t just visiting, that he had in fact enrolled.

 

It seemed God was smiling down on me that day.

 

From my typical perch atop the treadmill I stole glances to the weight area to watch him workout.  At first he warmed up as I studies his features.  At the time he looked to be a thirty-something with a ruggedly handsome face that would’ve made me feel extremely self-conscious if it weren't for the fact that it was also so welcoming.  While his face exuded masculinity with his strong jaw, deep set eyes and wide brow, it also had a certain softness to it.  He didn’t have the razor sharp looks of a male model, but frankly, the deep cut cheekbones never did much for me.  I much preferred the handsome, approachable, next door, jock look…and hello Mr. Former-High-School-Quarterback.  

 

Or perhaps he’d been a linebacker with as naturally thick as his frame was, noticeable even under the blanket of muscles that coated him.

 

To top it off he was rocking a short, clean cut beard that covered his cheeks, chin and wrapped around his mouth.  No thick straggly wild beard on him, though he oozed enough testosterone he could easily grow one if he wanted.  But no, it looked professionally groomed.  On top of his head his hair was similarly trimmed.  Short but not buzzed with just enough length to allow for slight upward styling toward the front.  On that day his beard was mostly dark brown…but in the years since his beard and the sides of his head had started to just subtly become sprinkled with flecks of grey, which only emphasized his experienced sexual aura.  As if he weren’t hot enough when he first walked in three years ago.    

 

As he warmed up that fateful historic day one of the gym’s trainers, Brienne, stopped by to welcome him to our facility.  I had gotten to know Brienne fairly well during my years attending the gym so I made sure to have a chat with her after my workout to discuss this new slab of steak.  As they spoke I saw him smile to here and holy mother…  The corners of his cheeks spread outward as his sparkling straight teeth exposed themselves.  A perfect smile.  It just did not seem fair for the rest of manhood that such a perfect specimen could exist.

 

And I haven’t even started talking about his body!

 

What a body.  It was a body that matched his face.  While Brienne was a short woman, he towered over her indicating to me that he was well over 6 ft tall.  I would later learn 6 ft 3 to be exact.  Examining his exposed arms, which were rippling, vascular and tanned, along with the way his pecs pressed against his shirt and how his legs hugged his sweatpants, it was clear he was exceptionally developed.  With my years of experience of ogling musclemen online I had pegged him at about 250-260 lbs comparing him to some other tall bodybuilders I stalked...er, "followed" on social media.  His vascularity lead me to surmise that he was around or just under 10% bodyfat, meaning that he was impressively muscular.  No doubt legitimate amateur bodybuilder big.

 

That day he was doing a full body routine.  A bit odd for a lifter of his caliber but I had guessed that he was simply taking the day to familiarize him with his new gyms’ weights and machines.  Nonetheless, he attacked every exercise with fervor and worked up quite a sweat, soaking his gray shirt and giving his meaty arms a nice sheen.

 

I was sad to depart the the treadmill once my session was complete since he had only worked about half of his muscle groups, but I forced myself to leave.  I did not want to give away my muscle-stalker tendencies just yet.  On the way out I stopped by the front desk for a quick chat with Brienne.  As she saw me approach she mouthed the words “OH MY GOD” indicating her shared awe of the sexy stud.

 

“Ok, Brienne, who is THAT guy?”

 

“Oh you know, Miller.  Can’t share that, gym privacy policy!”

 

“You bitch.  Spill the beans.”

 

Brienne giggled before looking around.  “His name is Hank Walker.  Just moved here from Montana.

 

“Uhhh, of course it’s a hyper masculine name like that.  And of course he's a huge sexy mountain man.”

 

“He’s 34 years old and yes, he’s joining our gym.”

 

“Perfect!  Just three years older than me…”

 

“Whatever, Miller, that daddy is gonna be mine!”

 

“Ugh.  You’re probably right.  Guys like him are guaranteed to be straight.”

 

And thus, that day three years ago started my stalker-ish obsession with Hank.  We both tended to workout right after work, before the gym became busy with the younger crowd a bit later in the evening.  And now that Hank was a regular member I was sure to avoid adjusting my schedule as much as possible.  I wanted every opportunity I could to watch him workout from the safety of my treadmill.  Of course, a couple of times a week I was afforded the opportunity to get nearer to him when I did my weights routine.  It would take all my strength of will not to stare at him as he would lift on the bench next to me.

 

Watching him workout was pure porn for me.  I’m purely a muscle lover.  When I watch porn, my favorite parts tend to be the foreplay where the guys flex and feel each other.  I’ve never understood why so many porn studios hire these big muscular guys and then spend 90% of the video doing closeups of the penetration.  Such a waste.  

 

Watching Hank’s muscles bunch and flex was hypnotizing, not just to me but to the other gym goers. Those first few weeks he was stopped often by other lifters complimenting him, asking for advice and just generally wanting to be next to this magnetic man.  To his credit, he never once lost patience with them and was happy to engage with his new gym family.  And if his new admirers lingered too long he would politely excuse himself back to his own workout.  Not only was he tall, huge, handsome, he was extremely friendly and good-natured as well…

 

Seriously, fuck this guy, right?!?  He’s probably hung like a horse too.  And judging by that full bulge, that seemed likely as well.

 

I’ll never forget when he came up to talk to me one hump day afternoon.  I was doing my fast paced walk on the treadmill to get warmed up.  At this point he had been working out at my gym for a few months and we had exchanged a few silent nods in passing.  The gym was especially deserted this Wednesday night and it was just us two and couple of older women using the machines.  

 

As I fidgeted with the controls I heard a deep sultry voice that would rival Sam Elliot and James Earl Jones.  “Wow, dead in here isn’t it, treadmill guy.”  

 

His voice sent shivers down my spine as I turned my head to see his inviting face.  I’d been eyeballing him for some time by now from the side but this was the first time I had looked him straight on.  Of course, I noted how even though I was elevated six inches up on the treadmill this perfect man was tall enough that I was looking him right in the eyes.  And those beautiful hazel yes.  And his perfect symmetrical face.   

 

Somehow I found my resolve to address him.  “”Treadmill guy?’”  

 

“Well yeah, I swear I see you on this treadmill every day.”

 

“Well I supposed I’ll call you ‘dumbbell guy’ since you use them every day.”  Instantly my throat tightened up, afraid that I had offended this titan.

 

Thankfully he chuckled and his pecs rippled under his shirt.  “Fair enough.  I’m Hank.  Thought I might as well say hi since I see you here all the time.   Great dedication you got.”

 

“Well that’s very nice of you to say since…um…you are obviously very dedicated too.”  He grinned as I took the opportunity to scan him.  “You are one big dude, Hank.”  

 

“Big is the goal!  I guess you could say I dabble in bodybuilding.”  With that he squared his shoulders with a half-flex.  And yet with just that minor tensing he seemed to expand another six inches wider.  

 

“I’d say you more than dabble.  You’re the biggest guy at this gym for sure.”  He thanked me before one of those awkward, new acquaintance silences occurred.  “Well it’s nice to meet you, Hank.  I’m Miller,” I replied, hoping I had successfully hidden the fact that I knew his name months ago.    

 

“Treadmiller,” he spoke.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“So you’re Treadmiller.  Ya know, Treadmill guy.  Treadmiller.”

 

“How very clever.”

 

He smiled and laughed again.  “Well that will help me remember your name.  Don’t be a stranger, Treadmiller!”  

 

And with that he turned and sauntered to the free weights, letting me take in his expansive back and hugely bubbled ass.  How could a guy so tall have and ass and legs that big?  It’s not fair.

 

From then on we would smile and wave to each other.  I was more than happy to make any sort of connection to Hank.  I was fully smitten.

 

There wasn’t much more exciting to me than getting to watch Hank workout.  One of my favorite things about him was that he was a true bodybuilder.  I mean, anybody could see that he was a bodybuilder, sure.  But he was constantly building his body.  What I mean is, he was always GROWING.  He wasn’t a body-maintainer.  He was always building himself bigger and bigger.  And sexier.

 

Seeing him several times a week, at first it was hard to notice.  Like any small changes to your own body that can occur, when you are familiarized with something it can be difficult to see progress.  But over time it became apparent with little clues here and there.

 

For example, when he did leg days he liked to wear this old light-orange Sunkist t-shirt that still had the sleeves.  I could see why he wore it.  He looked good in anything but the way that light fabric hugged his pecs, and delts, the way the sleeves perfectly hugged his biceps and triceps, was enough to make me gasp.  It was one of those massive shirts that draped on his physique yet still evidenced the bulges underneath.  Over some weeks I had thought I had seen that shirt get tighter and tighter…and then one day he came in and the sleeves were torn off.  And he proceeded to do an arm workout.  I had surmised that he had grown too big for it to be ‘comfortably’ loose so it had graduated into his repertoire of sleeveless upper body workout shirts.

 

Not to mention the fact that he was lifting heavier and heavier weights.  When he first started at our gym I remember watching in awe as he benched 355 lbs for a solid set of 10.  It was when that had increased to 405 for 12 that I really gave his body a good look.  Ok I always did that, but I started paying more attention.

 

And sure enough, his pecs bulged outward and seemed to be crashing into his delts and biceps more and more when he was standing there relaxed.  His traps were thickening and rising slightly higher and higher, creeping up his neck which was also expanding.  His legs and ass, already enormous, had made some truly tremendous gains.

 

Not to mention the fact the day Brienne had told me Hank had convinced the gym owner to purchase a set of 150, 175 and 200 lb dumbells!

 

So he was constantly growing.  Bigger and stronger.  Hotter and sexier with each passing year.  I noticed that he never had an offseason either.  There were a few big guys at my gym, some who had even competed.  It was something to watch all my former gym muses, the former biggest and studliest guys gather around and watch and gawk at Hank while he did his workouts.  Ray whatshisname?  Tyler whocares?  They were like little boys next to Hank.  My former muses often seemed to have cycles where they would bloat up to bulk and then cut down.  Sometimes they would put on a ton of weight all at once, with a lot of fat baked in as well.

 

But Hank…it’s like he was always one or two months out from a competition.  He just slowly but steadily grew bigger and more muscular while never losing his striations, definition and vascularity.

 

Knowing that he was always growing fueled my masturbatory sessions many times.  Ok, in truth it was probably 75% of the time.  Maybe 90%.  Shut up, the guy was fucking HOT.

 

And so back to the present day…

  

As I ramped up my treadmill Hank made his way into the weight room.  Glancing at me he give me a one hand salute and I returned the gesture.  He must be in a bit of a hurry today, often he stops by to say a quick hi.  I wonder with it being Valentine’s Day if he has a hot date tonight.

 

Tonight is going to generate and excellent fantasy situation for me, I can already tell and my brains starts to run wild with the possibilities.    

 

One nice thing about Hank is that watching him is the perfect beginning for any fantasy.  After he warms up he makes his way the dumbbells and an individual flat bench.  Today is going to be a treat for me, I can tell.  I had long ago memorized his workouts and I quickly recognized from his stretches and warmup sets that today was going to be a chest and biceps day.  After some ‘light’ warmup sets with the 80 lb to 100 lb dumbbells that he stood up and stripped off his baggy t-shirt.

 

Oh yes.  A treat indeed.  Hank was wearing a blank stringer-T that draped off his glorious tanned muscles, the tiny straps having no chance of covering any of his expansive torso.  His traps and pecs were so large the straps left a deep gap under them like a rope bridge spanning a deep crevice.  As I mentioned earlier, Hank was always growing and today he was in full on bodybuilder mode.  Big, pumped and defined already and he was just starting.  Even his shorts, which were by no means intended to be skin tight, hugged his massive legs and ass due to his hugeness.


I watched with lust as he worked his way up to the 120s, 150s, 175s… then the biggest dumbbells in the gym…the 200 lb monsters.  And his titanic body handled the weight masterfully.  Each rep was performed with form and precision.  Each time he pushed the weights up slowly yet forcefully, his pectoral pillows bunched upwards creating a deep ravine in between.  Even though each rep was perfect, Hank would let out these deep sexy grunts of effort and his skin would flush and moisten with sweat.  After his last rep he set the dumbbells down and even through the treadmill I could feel the THUD as 400 lbs were suddenly set on the ground.  Mind you, he didn’t drop the weights, but setting down two 200 lb weights, it’s impossible not to cause a slight tremor. I swooned as I realized he could bench TWO of me easily, one in each hand.

 

After racking the massive cylinders he quickly moved on to barbell bench press.  Most gym bros start with this but in his current routine the intent was to go lighter and do more reps to force more blood into those pecs.  Of course, if you’d never seen Hank bench, you would assume this was his first lift of the day.  Why?  Because he slapped plate after plate after plate on each side of the bar.  Even after a few set of heavy dumbbell presses Hank proceeded to work up to a 405 lb bench press of 3 sets of 15.  Just incredible power.

 

My dick thickened as I listened the four plates on each side of the bar rattle and clang against each other.  It was a white noise that signaled size and power were being built.  By now Hank's shoulders and triceps were also pumped up due to their secondary support.  After the last set he stood up, looked in the mirror and brought his elbows together to flex his pecs.  

 

Though he had a body to be one, Hank was not one of those gym bros who full on poses in the mirror.  At least not in the middle of the weight room.  Nonetheless as a sculptor of sinew he new how to examine himself and make sure his muscular clay was being molded as he saw fit.

 

He moved on to incline dumbbell flies which afforded me another dick plumping view of his pecs mounding upward.  I of course made a mental note how he was using the 80 lb dumbbells for flies, where most men couldn’t even simply flat bench that amount, including myself.

 

He was power.  He was masculinity.  He was pure sex.   

 

He finished up his chest pump with with some elevated pushups to give himself a deep finishing burn.  You would think a man of his size would struggle having to push that much bodyweight, but he proceeded to pump out 3 sets of 43, 37, and 34 reps respectively, but who’s counting?

 

Me.

 

I counted and watched every rep of my dream man’s workout.

 

By now his pecs were jutting, swollen and red with pump.  The tiny stringer left his perfect, perky nips exposed, though they weren’t always easy to see since his pecs were so large that his nips pointed downward.

 

And so, after just 27 minutes he was done with his chest pump workout and what a pump it gave him.  

 

Now it was time for biceps.  

 

What self respecting muscle lover doesn’t enjoy a good biceps workout?  Or better yet, watching an 37 year old uber stud complete a biceps workout.

 

Hank started out with some hammer curls, the mass builders.  Again he worked his way up the dumbbell rack pumping the big weights simultaneously with both arms.  I took note how Hank rarely spent time down near the smaller weights.  It was like anything under 40 lbs had little use for him.

 

He finished his fourth set by eeking out 11 reps with the 90 lbs dumbbells.  By now the effort was clear on his face.  His chiseled face scrunched up and he squinted his eyes as he grueled his way through each rep.  And if you thought he might have an ugly heavy-effort face you obviously have not been reading this story.  Even his effort face was sexy as hell.

 

The sets had their intended affect as his arms seemed to have added an inch or two just from the initial pump.  Being such a tall and built guy, his arms easily had to have been over 20 inches when he started, he was probably now flirting with 22s or even 23s.  

 

Next he grabbed and easy-bar and loaded it up with 155 lbs and began to curl the taxed metal bar over and over.  Now that he had worked out his overall arm thickness, the easy bar targetted those massive peaks.  Peaks that I wanted to run my tongue over.  And don’t get me started on that cephalic vein.  What had started as a licorice-sized vein had engorged to something more akin to an air compressor hose.  Arm muscles that enormous required a large diameter tube to transport the blood and nutrients to fuel his growth.

 

While he was already vascular, by this point in the workout his body had become a network of veins threatening to break away from his engorged body.  He shook out his arms and I watched mesmerized as the unflexed meat of his triceps swayed and wobbled.  I swear even from across the gym I could feel the air being displaced by the movements of such a muscular titan.

 

He finished up with preacher curls, this time lightening up the weight and ‘only’ using the 55 lb dumbbells.  To really blast those peaks upward toward the sky.  Even from my vantage point I could make out he split between the two muscle heads that give the biceps their name.  After the third set Hank returned the weights to the rack and once again shook out his arms before flexing them to tightness at his side.

 

His workout was one of the most erotic things I had ever seen.  Sure, I’d spied him lifting before, but as he was continuously growing, this was the biggest and most pumped I’d ever seen him.  Shit, even his legs looked pumped even thought this was all upper body.  But when you pour as much effort into every rep, every set, as he does, it’s clear that an overall residual pump had been created.

 

Hank then grabbed an elastic band and proceeded to some quick stretches to make sure all his mobility was intact.  I sighed as my boner pressed against my hip, sad that he would be departing soon.  Hank's workouts were always focused and expeditious, but today’s was even a step faster.  Perhaps for this lovers holiday he had some lucky girl waiting for him tonight and he was in a hurry to get to her.  Bitch. 

 

In my developing fantasy this hyper masculine man would be heading my direction as soon as his workout was finished and smother me with his muscles...  

 

By now my typical 45 minutes of cardio were up and I had slowed down the treadmill to a warm down walk.  I prepared myself for Hank's departure but spotted him walking my way.  My heart started beating faster as he neared.  He usually left right after his weight session so I rarely got to see him at his biggest.  All pumped.  Sweaty.  Massive.  As he approached he looked me right in eye and gave me a warm smile.  What could he possibly want with me?  This tall, sexy bodybuilder could have anybody-

 

“Are you getting lost in that pretty little head of yours again, babe?”

 

He interrupted me with a smirk.  The sexiest, most lust-filled smirk you can imagine.

 

“Well don’t take too much more time in that head of yours, we’ve got that reservation tonight at the Red Orchid.”  He chuckled and rested his big arms on the bars of the treadmill.  Being this close I was bathed in his workout scent.  A powerful aroma of testosterone, sweat, musk and a hint of deodorant.

 

“I-  I was just watching you workout.” His grin widened.  Fuck he was smoldering when he smiled.  

 

“So you WERE having a gym fantasy, watching little ole me lift?”

 

“I can assure you there is NOTHING little about you.”

 

He glanced at his pumped pecs and arms, then back to my yearning face.  His smirk returned an he proceeded to bounce his pecs before raising his left arm and flexing a titanic biceps in front of me.  For me.

 

I said nothing but I’m sure at least 3 oz of drool fell out of my mouth.

 

“You’re right, Miller.  Everything on me seems to be BIGGER than ever.  It must be the affect my adorable husband has on me.  He makes me want to grow and grow for him.”

 

I caught my breath and was finally able to speak.  “And nothing excites your husband than watching his big sexy bodybuilder man grow bigger.”

 

This time is was Hank's turn to close his eyes and maintain control.

 

“You are so sexy, Miller, I can’t even tell you how much I love you and your tight power packed body.  Even though I dwarf you there is nothing sexier to me.  And I know you love my size and power.  In fact, I got a quick surprise for you babe.  Guess what.”

 

Though nothing could ever top the surprise when he proposed to me 16 months ago, any surprises Hank had given me in the past ultimately led to very exciting things, so I was eager to know what he was up to... 

 

“What?”

 

“I did it.”

 

“You did it? You did what?”  I looked at him as he smirked at me.  He stepped back and proceeded to perform a side chest pose.  Then a most muscular, his face scrunching as he let out a alpha growl.  He his all his poses with graceful fluidity.  His flexed muscles exploded even bigger.  His posing always took my breath away and I drooled some more as I took in his size.  Size.  A lot of size.  Suddenly it dawned on me.  “WAIT…you did…IT??”

 

“Fuck yeah, babe.  I finally crossed the barrier.  Weighed in at 303 lbs this morning naked.”

 

“UNNNNNNNNN”  I was unable to contain my moan and I felt my rock hard dick leak.  It was a goal that my husband, with obvious support from me, had had since we started dating two years ago.  Way back when Hank was just a “small’ 257 lb bodybuilder.  “Oh Hank.  You are so damn sexy.  And so BIG.  You’ve got me raging for you, my big man.  We might have to skip that dinner so I can ravage you right now!”

 

I walked up to my hulking husband and wrapped my lithe arms around his titanic torso, pushing my cheeks against his pumped pectorals.  From his six inch height advantage he leaned me back, leaned down and smothered my face with his mouth, his beard sexily scratching at my shaved cheeks.  Even his tongue was pure power as he used its size to dominate my smaller warm mouth.  My arms felt all around his pumped muscles, squeezing and groping the various rock hard masses on his body, being moistened by the sheen of sweat that coated him.  I broke myself free of his hovering mouth, reached under his arms and pushed his triceps upward.

 

With a smile he caught on and brought both arms up into a Mr. Olympia worthy double-biceps pose.  I smashed my face into his right arm, licking the warm pulsating mass.  I was soon sliding my mouth up and under his arm until I buried my face in his armpit and inhaled.

 

My big man moaned deep and heavy from above.  “Shit babe, if we don’t stop we are going to give the gym’s cameras a porno show.”

 

“It would be worth it!  You're just too hot, Hank.”  I reached down and grabbed his bulge through his shorts.  Like the rest of him it was over-sized, of course.

 

Seriously, fuck this guy, right?

 

Yes.  And I had gotten to.  Often.  It’s ok to be jealous.

 

I loved how I could make his enormous body shudder as I grabbed his thick, perfectly cylindrical cock.  Like the rest of him it was big, almost nine inches long.  And let me assure you, those inches were not those elongated "gay inches" either.  He wasn’t actually 7 inches.  His unit was legitimately a huge monster cock at just under nine pure inches.  

 

Hank grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back, holding me at arm’s length. I could see the fight in his eyes, he wanted this to continue as much as me, but alas, we had a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in town.

 

“I promise you, Miller.  You will get to explore every inch of this massive 300 pound body after dinner…that is, right after I hold you down and lick every square inch of yours.”

 

My body shuddered as I pictured my future. I regained my composure and calmed my heartbeat.

 

“You’re right.  We can do it.  We can control ourselves for the two hours, right?  RIGHT?!”  We both laughed.  It would be a tough mission for both of us.  “Plus the idea of seeing your massiveness in that suit of yours is too much to pass up.”

 

“Attaboy.  And you know, that suit was tailored for me when I was just 275 lbs…so it’s gonna be extra tight now.”  I rolled my eyes back again and moaned.  “And for being such a good sport, I’ll even wear my posing trunks under the suit for when you undress me after dinner.”

 

"The blue shiny ones?  Those are my favorite."

 

"You got it, babe."

 

Thank god the gym this Valentine’s Day was deserted.  I’m sure two dudes throwing massive wood in the middle of the gym floor went against gym policy.   

 

“I can’t wait,  Hank.  I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Miller.  Happy Valentine’s Day, babe.”

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Musclenyc

Awesome! Great HOT story!

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arpeejay

Awesome sauce!!

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Rorange

Amazing and hot story indeed! but did I miss something? 😂 Why they suddenly call each other husband?

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Mdlftr
2 hours ago, Eorange said:

Amazing and hot story indeed! but did I miss something? 😂 Why they suddenly call each other husband? and started dating two years ago?? or why Miller will have a thought that Hank will date with a girl? 😂

The story combined multiple shifts in time. 

It started off 3 years before the present day, when Miller first watched Hank come to the gym.  That time period lasted through Miller starting to describe Hank's workouts.  At that point, if this were a  movie, the scene would shudder and dissolve, indicating the passage of time to the present day (3 years on).  What made this story interesting was that the time jumps were not obvious at the beginning.   

Good writing technique on Dredlifter's  part!

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Mdlftr

Dred,

Awesome descriptions of the workouts - visually, tactically and olfactorily.   I felt like I was on that treadmill with Miller!

Well set-up and nice "Meet cute" scenario -- perfect for Valentine's Day! 

It's not a Harlequin Romance, but it's the "Muscle Forum" version of it!

Thanks for writing and posting!

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dredlifter
56 minutes ago, Mdlftr said:

Good writing technique on Dredlifter's  part!

Thanks, obviously I could've written it a little bit more clearer though! 😆

The idea was that Miller likes to fantasize on his treadmill, but in this case his fantasy ended up being his reality. 

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Rorange
2 hours ago, Mdlftr said:

The story combined multiple shifts in time. 

It started off 3 years before the present day, when Miller first watched Hank come to the gym.  That time period lasted through Miller starting to describe Hank's workouts.  At that point, if this were a  movie, the scene would shudder and dissolve, indicating the passage of time to the present day (3 years on).  What made this story interesting was that the time jumps were not obvious at the beginning.   

Good writing technique on Dredlifter's  part!

Yea I can get the time line, so why did Miller still think that Hank will date with a girl? wait or these are the fantasy of Miller?

Sorry if I ask too much. 😂

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dredlifter
16 minutes ago, Eorange said:

or these are the fantasy of Miller?

Yes

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Rorange
24 minutes ago, dredlifter said:

Yes

lol sorry just watch the story again and get it, I misunderstand the ‘pretty little head’. 😂

Then the story just get even hotter!!

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