« PREV | INDEX | NEXT » |
Flex Complex
By
"I saw Jake the other day, and you're not gonna believe this. But he weighs over three hundred pounds." "You mean he got fat?" "NO!... There's probably not an ounce of fat on his body. He's three hundred pounds of completely solid, ripped-up muscle. Three ten, to be exact. He stripped down and got on the scale right in front of me." "Fuck! You're kidding! Where was this?" "At Flex. I was at Flex Complex Saturday night, hanging out in the jacuzzi with Randy. And all of a sudden there was this... commotion. We saw this skinny blond guy with a huge dick come out into the courtyard all excited, and say something to his two friends who were smoking next to the pool. And they immediately put their cigarettes out and followed him back inside...." "And then?..." "We went inside, too, after a minute, and noticed a bunch of other guys who seemed all hyped up about something... and a few more guys coming out of their rooms and whispering to each other and heading to the far end of the building." "You mean like toward the video rooms?" "Yeah. And the gym..... And it was funny, cause if there were thirty-five guys in the club they were all in the hallway trying to act casual but heading very intently toward the gym." "So what was up?" "We asked somebody, and he said he wasn't sure but he heard Greg Kovacs was down there. And another guy said, 'No, it's either Jay Cutler or Bruce Patterson.'" "Big bodybuilders, right?" "HUGE bodybuilders. Freaks. Mr. Olympia size. And one of these massive guys was supposedly right there at the baths, 4 am Sunday morning." "And...?" "By the time we got to the gym there was a crowd of guys in towels or their underwear, pretending they were going to work out, or waiting for the bathroom, or lingering by the water fountain. It was funny, cause of course normally there are never more than two or three guys in there. ...And up on that little stage in the corner of the gym was this MASSIVE fucking stud, I mean a monster, with the biggest and freakiest muscles I've ever seen up close like that. Arms easily 25 inches around, I'm serious, biceps the size of somebody's waist. And fucking RIPPED. Like he was carved out of rock, with little veins and striations everywhere. My dick got huge the second I saw him." "And it was Jake? No way." "Just wait.... So this guy's still got his back to everyone, he's facing the corner at this point. And he's in nothing but these little black bikini briefs. Calvin Klein. And all you can really see are these HUGE fucking legs -- calves like watermelons, hamstrings bulging in thick, separate columns like organ pipes or something. And this huge, hot, tasty muscle butt... a fucking sculpture, with part of each striated glute bulging out above and below the shorts." "Damn." "You have no idea..... And above it all this back. I mean a fucking wall. How wide is that cabinet?" "A little over four feet." "Okay. His back is literally that wide. Because each of those mirror panels is between three and four feet, and he was clearly considerably wider than one panel.... Not even counting these MASSIVE, RIPPLING, carved-up sides of beef he's got for arms. Twice the size of my thighs, no exaggeration. And they're just hanging limp, cause at this point he's sort of just facing the corner relaxed, like he's meditating or something. And at one point he moves his right forearm back half an inch, a little twitch, not even really flexing. And this HUGE, FLARING, totally striated triceps bunches up and juts out like another four or five inches off his upper arm. I just about came from that alone." "So what are all the other guys doing at this point?" "Besides stroking their hard cocks? They're trying really hard not to just stare at this hunk directly, but most of us are losing that battle. I mean, luckily it's completely mirrored in there, so you can look almost any direction and still look at him. But some of the guys are whispering. 'It's Jay Cutler.' 'No, this guy's bigger than Cutler.' 'I think it's that gigantic pro from Germany. Markus something.' 'It's gotta be Jean-Pierre Fux. Nobody else is that thick and dense.' And then some guy accidentally knocks the barbell off the incline press and there's a huge noise.... And the monster looks up, snaps out of his meditation or whatever.... And you can tell he sees everybody, notices all of us staring at him. But it's like he's SO into himself he doesn't notice, or it doesn't really register. And he steps back from the mirror a few feet and begins posing, really slowly and strictly." "Jesus..." "And guys are just losing it. The stud hits a double biceps pose, and his back and rear delts and the back of his arms EXPLODE into a fucking mountain range. Muscles you never knew existed leaping out of his body like rock formations growing under his skin... And this guy standing next to me groans and obviously shoots, without even touching himself. And another guy is staring in amazement and yelling "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" over and over, I mean yelling. ....But the stud is completely focused on himself in the mirror, watching himself pose and flex, pumping blood into all those giant muscles. And gradually turning as he poses. Until he's in profile and we can see his chest. Which is beyond human. His pecs are like tractor tires or something. They're huge and wide and beefy, and they just balloon in every direction: bunching upwards and jutting out like a shelf just below his throat; thrusting forward maybe a full foot at their thickest point; even bulging to the sides, so the huge muscle bellies curve sideways for an inch or two in front of his delts and upper arms. And THEN the stud squeezes into a side chest pose, and these mindfucking slabs of beef get EVEN THICKER, which I'm seeing, but my brain is telling me is not possible. Each pec separates into three, four, five interlocking quadrants of marble-hard flesh. And the individual sections of chest muscle blow up even more freakishly, each one straining and pressing against the others as if they're fighting for space on the stud's massive upper body." "My God! I'd kill to be there!" "It was so fucking powerful. Thirty guys, including some VERY hot boys, and all of us held there spellbound, stuck to the floor, by this one monster stud turning slightly and flexing parts of his huge body. ...And then -- it was like he knew he had us now -- he suddenly made a quarter-turn toward us all, a little faster, and threw his flexed biceps up alongside his head, thrust one massive leg forward, and crunched his abs into a flexed eight-pack that looked like a stone wall on some medieval fortress. And when he hit this pose he stared right back at everybody and grinned -- kind of a challenging, tough-guy smile like he was showing us he knew EXACTLY how hot and powerful he was. And was maybe prepared to step down off that little stage and fuck every man in the room." "Oh, shit! Did he?" "No. But I swear, it was like a jolt of physical energy shot out of him. Because every single one of us went weak in the knees or the stomach and staggered backwards or had to sit down or grab onto something to keep from falling." "Then what?" "Then he looked straight at me and Randy with this kind of surprised expression. And it was only then -- and it took a full minute or two to sink in -- that we started to realize that the massive studgod was Jake. ...He came over to us and started chatting. I was so shocked I couldn't even hear what he was saying for a moment. He asked Randy a question, about work or something, but Randy couldn't talk. I mean, he tried to, but his mouth wouldn't work. He just kept staring at this one huge vein that was throbbing on Jake's right biceps. Jake looked at me and laughed, and then flexed his arm for us." "Yeah, he always had big arms." "No, you don't get it. These aren't 'big arms.' More like fierce, live animals. Each arm looks like it weighs a hundred pounds. When he lifts them into position these huge mounds the size and shape of a good-sized cantaloupe appear. And then he FLEXES, and every tiny muscle fiber becomes visible as his bi's turn to solid rock and raise up a completely distinct second head that's bigger by itself than most guys' entire biceps. And each of those arms packs more sheer power than you and I have in our entire bodies. We hung out a little, while Jake worked out. 'A quick pump,' I think he said. Like three sets of seated dumbbell curls with 150-lb. dumbbells. Chatting calmly with us and not breaking a sweat through the whole routine." "Fuck...." "I asked him how he got so huge in such a short time, whether it was massive doses of growth hormone, or some special roid stack, or what. He just smiled and said he did those things, but they were just a tool. He said it was mostly his mind. That he literally willed himself to pack on a hundred pounds of dense muscle mass and strip off fifteen pounds of bodyfat in just under a year." "No way!" "That was my reaction. But he said it was quite literally a case of 'mind over matter.' Randy and I must have looked skeptical, cause he said he could prove right there how powerful focused thought could be. So I said, 'How?' and he said, 'By putting Randy to sleep.' ....Then he looks at Randy and says, 'Are you at all tired? Do you feel like sleeping?' And Randy laughs and says, 'No... actually we've been partying and I'm pretty wide awake. I don't think I can sleep for quite a while.'" "Yeah? ...So...?" "So Jake looks in Randy's eyes for maybe 10 seconds. Doesn't even change his facial expression. And Randy starts yawning uncontrollably, and immediately sits down on a weight bench and slumps forward. Out like a fucking light and snoring peacefully." "Damn!" "I ask Jake how long he'll be out for, and he says, 'Oh, not long, fifteen minutes maybe. But I could've put him away for ten or twelve hours if I wanted to. I mean, look at my body and you get a pretty good idea of how well I've learned to do this stuff.... ' Well, by now there's no one in the gym -- no one awake, anyway -- except Jake and me. And MY cock has been rock hard and throbbing for like half an hour. And I notice Jake is hard, too. In fact, he's about ready to flop clear out of his Calvins. So I say, 'Y'know, it's funny. The last few times we hooked up, I was the big guy.' And he smiles and says, 'I know. But I'm always the biggest, now. I kinda like that.' And I make it obvious that I've noticed his hard-on, and I say, 'It looks like maybe you're ready for a repeat performance.' "God damn. Are you gonna tell me you had him?" "I wish. When I said that, Jake smiled... he's a nice guy, actually, for someone who weighs over three hundred pounds and could crush you with one hand... 'That's really flattering,' he said. 'But this is just my alarm clock.' He meant his hard dick, which he was holding onto, now, under his briefs. 'This is just telling me it's time to go meet my teacher.' "His what?" "Yeah, that's what I said... And he said, 'My teacher, my mentor, the guy who basically got me to this size. Guy named Rick, really unique, extraordinary person. We have a pretty intense connection. Y'see what I mean?' And he pulls off his briefs and shows me his cock, which is now ROCK HARD and completely huge, just from talking about this Rick guy." "Wow..." "'Well, I wanna meet him,' I said. And Jake smiled and said, 'We'll see. That's completely up to him. But I'll tell you, I wouldn't even THINK of visiting Rick without looking my absolute, rock-hard best. Living up to his vision, his powerful mental suggestion of what I can be, is 90% of what motivates me. I get off on pleasing and satisfying him that way more than I do on any worship or attention or hot sex I get from anyone else. In fact, he makes sure I feel that way.' ...'How does he do that?' I ask him. 'Well,' Jake says, and he gets this big, shit-eating grin, 'Rick is, I guess, kind of a genius at getting inside my head and my body. So if he feels like it he can take me through the most intense, powerful, slow-building, overwhelming, volcanic orgasm you could ever imagine. In fact, BEYOND what I ever imagined.'" "Shit..." "'In fact, a couple of those, and it makes any other sex barely worth the jizz. And it also means when Rick says I should come back five hundred pounds next time, I'll either do it or die trying. Which reminds me,' he says. 'I gotta weigh myself. I'm supposed to be at least three hundred and dry as a bone.' ...So Jake hops on the scale, and damned if it doesn't balance out just under 310. And Jake pinches the skin on his abs and his glutes and his lower back, and it's all like paper -- not a MOLECULE of fat, from what I can tell. And Jake smiles, and damned if his dick doesn't get an inch bigger and pump up thicker, too. 'Looks like I'm in for a really nice reward,' he says. 'Anyway, I hope Rick is pleased. Cause if he is, I can groove on that for a month.' "....And with that, he hops off the scale, walks buck naked over to the high bar and does fifty strict wide-grip pullups with his massive bodyweight. Like it's a walk in the park. And when he's done, his lats are so pumped and blown out that his arms practically stick out straight sideways. And he winks at me and leaves the gym.... pretending not to notice that I've shot about a quart all over myself and the cable-row machine, and I'm still dripping. And then I look over at the flat bench, and I see that at some point Randy woke up, and he's all flushed and covered in his own cum, too. It was the hottest experience in my life, bar none." "Fuck, I'll say." "Yeah, I can see you liked hearing about it. Y'think that'll come out of the bedspread?" "Hell, I don't know. But either way, it was worth it! |
« 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