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Jeb & Jay's Progress
|Jeb and I spent the rest of the day training on strength events. The
atlas stones were tough for me. I had a hard time hoisting the smooth
boulders up and then keeping them up. Jeb was very patient with me, showing
me where to place my grip to get a better hold. It didn't boost my ego any
when he squatted down next to two of them and lifted them up, one in each big
arm, and then shifted them up to his thick shoulders. He waddled over to the
platforms and set them up there like they were beach balls instead of 400lbs
of rock. If he was able to do it this way in the next strongman contest, he
will easily cut the record time in half.
As dusk approached, Jeb decided there was time for a quick jog. He explained to me that he thought jogging was a waste of time unless you wore a weighted vest. The one he put on weighed 250lbs. The one he gave me weighed 100lbs. I've always hated jogging, and in eight years of playing ball in high school and college, never got used to it. Now, I'm packing an extra 100lbs, and am not looking forward to it, but I figure how far could he run with 250lbs on his already massive frame? A mile? Five kilometers, tops. But Jeb explains to me that he has mapped out a course around his neighborhood, around the university, and through the industrial park, and back to his house, that is just over ten miles. Ten mutherfuckin miles. And, he says, as if this were a good thing, that the last three miles are mostly uphill. We take off together, but I soon realize that there is not a chance in hell that I'll be keeping up with him. He takes off ahead of me, and doesn't look back, so I assume he's not expecting me too. I try to keep him at least in sight, so that I don't lose my way, and have to actually go farther then ten miles. Even at a distance, you could tell that the guy is a beast. Thick powerful legs pumping out thick powerful strides�.I was surprised that the pavement wasn't cracking under his feet.
Just about the time I'm sure my legs are going to buckle underneath me, Jeb doubles back and gets beside me. "Come on, boy, you're doing fine. You're almost halfway." Oh my god, I thought, only halfway. I was so hoping I was nine and a half miles into it. The thought of five more miles overwhelmed me. I was already having stomach cramps, but now I stopped and puked my guts out on the curb. I puked until I was dry heaving. Jeb had his hand on my shoulder. "Too much for the first day, huh, son?" he said, looking fresh as a goddam daisy. "You think so, you sick fuck?" I wanted to say, but had the good sense not to. "Here, let me lighten your load for you," he said, and he slipped the weighted vest up and over my head, and put it on over his own.
"Take your time, I'll meet up back at the house," he said, and took off, running with 350lbs of extra weight on his back. Goddam freak Gorilla. Although now I felt bad for wanting to curse at him. I started jogging as soon as the cramps eased, and now, 100lbs lighter, I felt like I was flying. Shit, I could have run all night. Soon, I actually caught up with Jeb, and ran up along side of him. He looked at me and nodded, and I nodded back. We ran the rest of the way in silence, although Jeb was now grunting like a bull as we made our way uphill for the last three miles. We got back to his house, and I helped him strip off the vests. They were both soaked through with his sweat. He stripped off the rest of his clothes. Sweat was pouring off his thick powerful body. He glistened with it. He stared at me as it dripped off his chin and dripped off his huge nips, and streamed over his muscleball gut, and rolled down his neck and from his pits. "Strip," he said to me, a single-word order that needed no repeating. I ripped off all my clothes, and he tackled me. He took me down and we rolled together, slippery with sweat, exploring every hot steaming crevice, him gropping and fondling my thick jock body, and me nuzzling against his powerful mass, sensing the strength and masculinity of this ox of a man. My earlier physical exhaustion now led me to a whole new level of physical ecstasy. I zoned out on his flesh and strength and sweat. We pounded each other into furniture and walls, crashing things over and rearranging his rooms. We went at it for almost two hours, then collapsed in each other's arms.
"Let's go eat," Jeb said to me. We showered off together, scrubbed each other down, then dressed to go out. I felt bigger and stronger than I had ever been, after only one day of training with Jeb. And he looked even thicker and harder than when he had come into the store earlier. I wasn't sure where this was going to lead, but I got hard just thinking about the possibilities.
Jeb took me to an all-you-can eat buffet, where he slipped the owner an extra 100 dollar bill so the poor guy wouldn't freak out when he saw how much we were eating. We stuffed down plate after plate of beef and chicken and mashed potatoes, rice pilaf, burgers, shakes, spaghetti alfredo, loaves of buttered bread, pork chops, sausages, goulash, creamed spinach. You name it, this place had it, and we ate it. We were so stuffed afterward, that we were sweating again, but I had never felt better. Jeb smiled at me and flexed his big arm, swollen with muscle and flush with nutrient-rich blood. I flexed back at him, my own arm popping up higher and tighter than I would have ever believed. I heard one little kid go "Wow!", and a woman fainted. I was in heaven.
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