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|I wasn't always a freak, y'know.Up until age 15 I was just tall for my age. That's when I stopped growing taller, when I was 15. At the end of 9th grade I was 6'2" tall -- head and shoulders above most of my high school classmates but even among them there were two or three guys taller than I was and even one or two girls who were nearly as tall.But I was a skinny little fuck, all of 160 lbs. sopping wet. I was not the kind of guy you look at and think "football player" much less "bodybuilder." It was more like "long distance runner" or even "pole vaulter." I was long and lean and reasonably broad shouldered but lanky.It didn't help that my name is Hank. I heard "Lanky Hanky" way too many time in those days. Even that was better than my full name, which is Henry Emerson Carter the Third.But that summer after 9th grade I started to grow, not up but out. Sideways, frontways, backways. I was tired of being "Lanky Hanky" and I wanted to be "Hank the Hulk," so I started lifting weights and eating like a horse.I'm still not sure what really happened. All I know is that it's not normal to grow that much and it's not normal to grow that fast. Especially not without gaining a single ounce of bodyfat along the way.And not...Well, I guess maybe there was *one* part of me that was always a little freaky. I'm sure you were wondering about that all along. And, yep, it's true, even as a kid I was well-hung. All through elementary school mine was as big or bigger than anyone else's among kids my age. We'd go camping or hiking or sleeping over and boys being boys we'd wind up comparing. Mine was long and skinny but very straight and hard, just like the rest of me. Well, the hard part, anyway.By the time I was 15 it was all of 9 1/2 inches long when fully hard -- and it was usually hard. I always wore baggy pants to hide the bulge. And I always kept a notebook handy in case I needed to "cover up."That was then, this is now.Now I'm a freak. A huge fucking muscle freak. And, yes, I'm a freak down there, too.Just how big?We'll get to that.That first summer I kept pretty much to myself. I spent all my time in the kitchen (eating) or in the garage (lifting.) When I returned to school in late August to begin my sophomore year of high school, all my classmates were amazed."Shit dude!" they said. "What have you been doing?"I couldn't resist stretching and flexing a bit. I was still lean and hard and not imposing or anything but even so I'd put on 40 lbs. of solid muscle. At 200 lbs., I still had a 30 inch waist but now I had a 45 inch chest and 17 inch biceps to go along with it! I felt pretty danged studly."He's been lifting, fellas, that's obvious, isn't it?"That was Mr. Ferris, our 10th grade biology teacher. Talk about studly! Mr. Ferris was about 35, single, and the heart throb of every sophomore girl (not to mention quite a few sophomore boys.) He was tall (an inch or two taller than I), deeply tanned, and built like a brick shithouse. I later learned that he weighed in at 245 lbs. and could bench 405 lbs. for reps, but like I said that was later."And doing a damn fine job of it, I might add," Mr. Ferris continued. "Keep up the good work, Hank."I'm not ashamed to say I blushed. The fact is I thought Mr. Ferris was hot as shit, even if he always seemed just a little bit *too* fond of the attention he got, and I sucked up his compliments like a kitten with a saucer of milk.Little did I know just where it would all lead. |
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