Great Workout

I love a good heavy workout. Pushing and pulling heavy weights, feeling every muscle in my body flex… it gives a better high than any drug possibly could. I’ve been chasing that high every day since I turned seventeen and even now, ten years later, I still can’t get enough of that triumphant feeling when I’ve made new personal bests and earned the admiration of the guys around me. With a packed muscular frame like this, it’s no real shocker that I get noticed regularly and there have even been guys sidling up to me to ask for tips or even hit on me. I’m a pretty open-minded guy and I’ve always enjoyed being the center of attention but the main pleasure those guys could give me wasn’t just praising comments or even blowjobs in the communal locker room showers - both things I regularly enjoyed - but their unique contributions to my in-process workouts. I’m not just talking about spotting me on heavy lifts either…

What really separates a good workout from a great workout is how involved my fellow gym-goers are. I’ve got this special talent, you see, where I can steal mass from other people’s bodies. All I need to do is to get them to agree to it and with a simple misleading “Hey bro, you wanna help me get even bigger?” I’ve got all the permission I need. One simple touch and all the hard work gets sucked right out of them and starts pumping up my muscles. They’re left as skinny little runts who might as well be visiting the gym for the first time ever and I get between ten and thirty pounds of muscle a pop. The downside is that the pump only lasts for a couple days before I deflate back to my normal size, but the guys who donate their muscles to me don’t get them back either. They have to eat and train religiously to get back to their original size and even though they try and warn the other guys about what I’m capable of, nobody ever really believes them. Why would they when I’ve got a reputation as being such a stand-up guy? 

My latest ‘kind donator’ was Julian, a pretty studly guy in his own right who had been eye-fucking me for the entire first hour of my session. He had the build of somebody who played sports pretty regularly and was fresh-faced enough that I figured he was a student at the local college. Unfortunately for him I could smell the naivety and knew he would be perfect to help send my workout into that ‘great’ zone. I started up small-talk as I approached him in the free weights area and once we were in comfortable conversation I popped the question in innocent fashion. He agreed immediately, visibly excited by the prospect of getting to hang around with a hunk like myself for a little longer, although that smile dropped when I clapped him on the shoulder and he was suddenly forty pounds lighter! His thick arms were now scrawny twigs and losing the width of his neck made him look strangely giraffe-like, an observation that brought chuckles out of me. He was still cute though and I could foresee uses for his new twinky self. In fact, I was already beginning to chub just thinking about it, although I needed to defuse the situation first before he totally lost his cool.

“Thanks for helping me out, dude,” I remarked, captivating him by popping my huge muscular pecs which had been further pumped up by the addition of his stolen mass. My gym clothes were pushed to their very limit, about to break free, and the fabric of my pants was doing little to hide the snake waiting there, getting more and more excited by the moment. The other was at a total loss for words and how could he not be when presented with such a behemoth of a man getting visibly aroused in front of him? “Now how about we talk about how else you can help me out,” I suggested, guiding his slender hand to my bulge to make it perfectly clear what I meant... 

Truthfully I've been a bit creatively dry this week. I'm hoping that a bit of reading will help me get my mojo back but I hope that this helps tide you all over for now!