|« PREV||INDEX||NEXT »|
One Night Out at the Track
|Okay guys, This is the first story I'm posting. I actually posted it first at Bodyswap, but I think this would fit this group as well. The swap scene is very much a muscle growth scene. Please let me know what you think.
|God was he out of shape. Just four years earlier he had managed to do what no one had thought possible. He had transformed the 310-pounds of flab that made up his 5'10' frame into 180 lbs of trim lean sinew and muscle. He had turned himself into a guy with a nice athletic build. His name was Josh. It had taken Josh about a year, but he looked fantastic; not quite underwear model material, but he looked good. He had about 5% body fat, and lifted weights almost daily. His one fault was that he hadn't packed on enough muscle to compensate for his colossal loss of fat and loose skin. What this translated to was no six-pack, and not a lot of vasculature or well defined muscle. He just really couldn't gain enough muscle, no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps it was the fact that he was training for a marathon and ran about 70 miles a week; about 8 to 10 during the week, and 23 on Sundays. Who cared, he felt great, and he still looked fantastic, especially compared to that guy he use to be when he started graduate school. Still, he pushed hard�too hard. After one particularly long run he felt a thing pop and pain like he'd never felt before. Excruciating pain. He'd torn a ligament near his knee. Seven months later he could barely walk without a limp. Three years later, he was just able to jog a 1/4 mile without pain. He had also gained back 60 lbs. God was he out of shape.
So, here he was, at the track near his school, desperately trying to regain the shape he'd worked so hard for. This time it was harder though. He looked at the athletic forms on the track. He longed to look like what he had always been attracted to; sweaty athletic, defined muscle, wet and dripping sinew, defined features, strength, attitude, veins throbbing, smooth skin�again, glistening muscle. He was determined to get in even better shape than he'd been before. Still, this was a big obstacle to overcome. Before his body was in good working order�now he had a bump on the inside of his knee where his medial collateral ligament had once helped contract his quadriceps and keep his knee aligned. The added weight made things even more difficult. So, he found himself at the half-mile track at 10 past 10 in the pm�too embarrassed of his lack of athletic prowess to go in the prime time, more embarrassed of the extra weight he carried. God was he out of shape. He stretched some more; making sure all was in working order. He looked around and, raised the volume on his iPod�and started walking. He had to start somewhere. He'd eventually run the last half of a lap, but for now he'd walk the first 3 miles. On his second lap around, he noticed what had to be the most attractive guy he'd ever seen.
This guy was at the chin up bar by the track. He was about 6'4, dirty blonde, and built. He wasn't exactly pro-bodybuilder huge, but he was built. You could see every contour of every muscle on him. You could also see a roadmap of veins on his forearms and even on his legs. He wore tiny running shorts and a muscle shirt. After stretching, he took off his shirt, and threw it on the ground next to his sports bag. Josh figured he had taken some sports drink, or put his keys in there. He took something out of the bag and rubbed it all over his torso and legs; some kind of lotion, Josh guessed. With the lotion on he looked even more incredible. The guy had the most ripped midsection Josh had ever seen. He'd never seen a 10 pack in real life, but this guy had one. You could even see the striations on his abs and a couple of veins running up them. On there sides were additional supporting muscle and sinew. His chest was also incredible. Again, it wasn't pro-bodybuilder huge, but it was big and striated. He decided to crank out a couple of chin ups, which made his muscle pop out even more. Every muscle on his shoulders and back stood at attention. He had an incredible V-taper that scrambled down to an impossibly thin waist. At the base of his back you could see a Christmas tree of muscle form, further accentuating the waistline in comparison to the spread of his lats. This guy was a walking wet dream. He was sex on legs, and he was right in front of Josh. He finally stopped, and noticed Josh staring. The guy winked at Josh, and then took off running. Embarrassed Josh looked away, only turning back to try and get one more glimpse for the pornographic mental camera. Josh could see his back as he sped off on the track, his thighs shaking with power and his perfectly shaped calves push him off, not to mention that ass, which seemed to bob while he ran, and then he was gone. He'd left his bag there. Josh was sure he'd come back after his run. After about his fifth lap, the bag was still there, and the stud was nowhere in sight. Josh kept on walking, and walked about two more laps. The bag was still there, and the hunk, nowhere in sight. Josh ran his last lap. Call it lack of oxygen, or the image of muscle still burning in the pornographic RAM, but Josh got a crazy idea in his head�maybe he should take the bag. If he found some ID he could return it to the guy. One more chance to see him, even meet him. If nothing else, he could satisfy certain fetishes. He could put on the God's sweaty shirt, maybe even find some other clothes in there. His imagination raced. When he reached the spot, he stopped stretched a bit and waited a little while longer to see if he came on by. Nope. The track was nearly empty now. It was getting closer to midnight now, and Josh had to leave. He heaved the bag over his shoulder and headed for his truck, his heart thumping hard from the run, or perhaps carrying the bag was getting him "excited". He sped off home and arrived in record time.
He reached for his keys and quickly opened the door. Josh set the bag on his coffee table. He opened it up and the smell that came out was intoxicating. You could smell the sweat. It wasn't nauseating. It was different, even sexy, as if to conjure every workout this guy had ever had. Inside was a pair of socks, the shirt, and a jock strap. The lotion was in there too, and an old pair of size 14 cleats. No ID in sight. Something overtook him, perhaps the smell, perhaps a fetish, and he put on the jock strap, the socks and the cleats, and finally the shirt. To, be honest, he almost broke the jockstrap. His waist tested the elastic around the waistband, but it held. He felt a jolt of erotic electricity as the mesh on the jock touched his balls. Instant hard on might best describe it. He even felt a tingle up his back. As the mesh rubbed against the hairs on his balls there was a cool feeling that just intensified everything. It was like getting your balls licked without the wet feeling. Think of somebody rubbing the head of your uncircumcised cock in tiny circles and then pinching it a bit. That's how it felt, and the shoes�he loved how his feet swam inside the size fourteen cleats. They made him feel, well taller, more powerful. If he looked at himself in a mirror he saw the overweight guy he'd become, but if he looked away, he felt strong, like the guy at the track. He fell on his bed and, overwhelmed by the pleasure he felt he started to touch himself. Slowly he pulled the jock strap down. He could feel a flaming coolness in his balls. No, it felt too good to take it off. He decided to stroke through the jock strap. His feet curled inside the cleats as every muscle in his body tensed and released in what had to be the most powerful orgasm he'd experienced in his 30 years of life. What a feeling. He lay there exhausted; from the run, and from the bout of self pleasure he experienced. He looked in the bag, and saw the bottle of lotion.
|« PREV||INDEX||NEXT »|
This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.
Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.
Archive Version 070326