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The Edge - Part 3 - Sick Abs

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The Edge - Part 3 - Sick Abs


“Start wide, expand further, and never look back.”

– Arnold Schwarzenegger


Over the next week, Eddie grew considerably. I'd gone with him to the gym a few more times, but over the past few days I'd started getting the sniffles.  Probably caught whatever Eddie had despite my vitamin protocol.  From what I could piece together, everyday, "dumb Eddie" would emerge, dress in the most revealing workout attire he could, then disappear for a few hours.  After the workout was over, "regular Eddie" would come back, lamenting the fact that he was seen in public in his 'condition’.  “Dumb Eddie” also made other shows, usually around meal times, and at other random times.  Eddie really didn’t know what brought the lug out, except the obvious gym and relating things.


I was in the middle of a sneezing fit when Eddie walked in.  It must have been gym time, judging by the way he was (not?) dressed.  


"Fuck, bro, it is time to Get! It! In!  You pussying out again today?" He kept flexing his chest, feeling himself up, then getting distracted by his enormous arms, going into a personal flexing show just for himself.  It seemed that this Eddie never could keep his hands off himself.  It weirded me out just a little.


"Um...yah," I got out between sniffles. "I'm just too sick, Eddie.  Maybe tomorrow."


"I feel ya, bro.  Gotta get you back into the gym, though.  We gotta add size to that puny little bod of yours. Getcha guns like these cannons! BOOM!”, he accentuated the sound with a bicep flex in my face. The vein running across the top just looked weird to me.  "Oh, and I been thinkin.  Call me Eric, I think it suits me a bit better than 'Eddie'.  That just sounds like some weak-ass little punk.  I'm fuckin ERIC!" He punctuated the name with a huge, wide, double bicep pose.


"Um.  Ok. Eric," little more weirded out by that, but whatever.


"Cool, bro!" He gave one of those jocky smiles that hinted there wasn't too much going on upstairs. He turned to leave, "Bet you'll be feeling better soon, though, you're looking a lot more tan lately. Later!"


I sank back into my chair, reading over some chem class work.  I was having a hard time concentrating due to the stuffiness in my head. I got up to get some hot tea, and as I passed by the mirror, my reflection caught my eye.  Maybe 'Eric' was right. I did seem to have a bit more color than I had the past few days.


I got back to my chair and pulled out my laptop.  I checked my email, and the first message that popped up was one of those "fat burners" that the doctors on daytime tv are always talking about.  Complete garbage, I'm sure.  The guy model in the ad looked about my age, just really cut.  It wasn't a bad look.  I looked down at my own arms and saw a few veins just hiding under my skin.  The time with Eric in the gym must be paying off a little.  I guess losing a little weight and putting on a little bit of muscle wasn't a bad trade off for trying to comfort a friend.


I went over to the mirror, and took off my shirt.  A hint of abs were showing through my stomach.  My shoulders might be a bit more defined. I s'pose a few more side lat raises the next time I worked out with Eric wouldn't hurt.  I flexed a double bicep, imitating the pose Eric did before he left - laughably small if Eric were standing next to me.  The sacrifice and dedication to get that big was definitely impressive.  I'd never get that big though, it’s just so much that it’s really gross.  I flexed my six-pack, hints of veins crawling over them.  Each ab defined with a hard line separation.  A lot of time went into those.  Meticulous meal planning. And the cardio! It was worth it, though.  I sneezed again.  Sniffling, I looked in the mirror at my chest, nicely lean, hard and defined.  I loved how it just barely showed when I wore a t-shirt.  Just enough to look like I worked out, but not enough to be showy. It was always fun when I was at the beach though.  Shirt and shorts, and I looked like a regular guy, but when the shirt came off, defined chest shoulders and arms, perfectly lean, leading to my 8-pack and Adonis belt.  No brah on the beach could touch me.


I sniffled, feeling groggy from the tea, and decided to take a nap.  I flashed my million dollar smile at the mirror again, popped my pecs and went to lay down.

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