Tony the MuscleKid



By Biceps Lover

School ended, my punishment assignment ended, but Tony and I continued to work out together, now usually in my garage. We lifted a lot of weights, but we also ran wind sprints - sometimes carrying saddle bags filled with weights, sometimes just for raw speed. I was getting much faster, and realized I might give some of the track team a run for their money. And, some days, we ran long distances. One day in July, we went to the track at the high school to test ourselves for a 15 mile run. We both ran way too fast at first for such a long distance, but the competition between ourselves and to push each other was intense. I ran faster for longer than I ever thought I could. When we finally passed the grandstand for the 240th lap (that's 15 miles), neck and neck for a tie, we looked at the clock and saw we had done it in 78 minutes and 40 seconds. That's just a little bit over 5 minutes per mile. We were both stunned at our endurance.

(As a side note: just last week, on my one-year anniversary of eating the secret plant, I did that little 15 mile run again, by myself, and at at full speed. This time I completed the 240 laps in 54 minutes. That's under four minutes for each mile for the whole distance.)

In addition to lifting and running, we were always pushing out limits in balance, flexibility, and coordination. One day, we decided to live the whole day upside down. Wherever we went, we walked on our hands. All around the neighborhood, up stairs and down, for hours. Now and then we'd stop and do some handstand pushups, but from practicing so often, we never needed to balance ourselves or lean over onto a wall. We both built perfect control. As for flexibility, despite Tony's large muscles and my "getting large" muscles, we were more flexible than anybody else I'd seen besides Olympic gymnasts. We could bend every which way, and often practiced to see how far we could stretch ourselves. It was funny, but as hard as my muscles felt when I flexed them, I could stretch them into almost any position.

This stretching work brought an added benefit to my private, more sexual, activities. As the summer went on, that overwhelming horniness I had felt at the beginning, well, stayed just as overwhelming. I know teenagers jerk off a lot, but ten to twenty times a day, every single day? And the size of my loads remained gigantic as well. How was my body making so much sperm every day? I still got that intense orgasm every time, no matter how often I masturbated - and I did love to masturbate. Especially with my new equipment. My dick continued to grow and in late July, it passed the 9 inch mark.

Not only was my dick huge, but I knew how to use it so much better (practice makes perfect). I could lead myself to the very brink and then back down again, with only my mind - no touching. The first time I went from completely soft to rock hard to violently cumming, all without touching myself once, I knew I had found a pastime that would last me the rest of my life. But I always tried new ways to get off.

That's where the stretching came in. With my dick getting bigger and bigger, and my body so flexible, you'd have thought that I'd have come up with the idea of sucking myself off early on. Actually, though, I first tried it that night I first measured out at 9 inches - July 28th. After measuring it, I sat there and stared at it, leaking lubricant like I always do when I'm hard. It looked so good, so slick and shiny, I just had to taste it. I leaned over, continued to reach, and in a few seconds I had the head in my mouth. With all the stretching I had been doing, it was easy. I knew I could take much more of my length into my mouth. In that way, I got my first blowjob from . . . me. Once I got started, I wondered how I never thought of it before. I sucked like mad as I scrunched in and out, pushing four, five, six inches and more down my throat. Finally, I stretched as much as I could, and went all the way. My chin and nose came to rest in my pubic hair and my entire 9 incher was down my own throat. I started cumming buckets, swallowing every drop. After five minutes of constant cumming, the orgasm subsided, but I kept on sucking. Without going soft, I brought myself to another orgasm a minute or two later, then another, and another after that. That one evening I sucked my own dick for two straight hours, during which time I blew eight consecutive huge loads down my throat.

Tony and I worked out almost every day that summer. Mostly lifting weights, running, and that sort of thing. We also wrestled each other all the time. We were really competitive, and liked testing out our strength and endurance against each other. At the beginning of the summer, Tony usually won the wrestling matches, but one day in early August I started to win some of the time. As I was getting stronger, I began to use my greater height and limb length to my advantage. Of course, our wrestling matches almost always ended the same way - with us both naked with roaring hardons. You see, that little (well, not so little) problem I was telling you about before was something that Tony had been dealing with for a few years. He laughed when I first confided in him as to how sexually excited I was always getting. He told me that it was the same for him, and from then on, we spent an hour a day or more in "non-strength training" activities. Tony was, of course, the "right kind of boy" as I was. So, after the initial embarrassed looks and darting eyes, we soon got over it and became. . . . well, I guess boyfriends is the right word, or lovers. Maybe "fuckbuddies" is the best way to describe it. But I promised that this story would concentrate on my muscle growing and not the sex part. Maybe I'll write about some of the incredible sexual things me and Tony did that summer (and during the next year as well), but not this time.

As the summer progressed, Tony continued to put on muscle and strength, and was obviously in a growth spurt too, gaining about two inches or so of height. But his muscular progress was nothing compared to mine. In August, twelve weeks to the day after I ate the secret plant, it occurred to me that I hadn't taken any measurements of my muscles since that first weekend. That amazed me when I thought of it, because before I started to grow almost before my very eyes, I had been obsessed with that tape measure. But now, I knew I was growing and getting more buff every day, I could see it every morning in the mirror. So, measuring seemed less important and I didn't even think about it. Even Tony, who used to measure himself every week, now was more interested in our ongoing competition to build strength, definition, and size than in the specific measurement of his muscles.

As I got out my measuring tape, I knew I was in for a nice surprise. I knew I was a lot bigger everywhere except my waist, which was small and tight. My strength increases over the summer were nothing less than phenomenal. I was now doing sets of bench presses, ten-reps each set with 275 pounds. Still not as strong as Tony, but catching up really fast. And I was now stronger than any other 15 year old that I knew or knew of.

The first thing I did was measure my height. I was 5'8-1/2" - a half inch increase from when I started. I now weighed 152 for a seventeen pound increase in weight, but I was so ripped that I knew I had actually gained more than that in lean muscle mass. That thin skinned look I had seen and admired on Tony that first day was now what I saw on my own body. I don't have skin calipers, but I'd bet I was under 4% body fat. Muscles bulged everywhere, veins popped out even when I wasn't flexing. And when I did flex, well, it looked like my muscles would explode out of my skin.

Flexing my biceps, I loved what I saw: A rock hard softball sized muscle, the individual muscle tendons visible under my paper thin skin. Several veins running up and down, bulging out with the flow of blood. Incredibly highly peaked, slightly split at the top, and so hard to the touch, it was difficult to believe that it was human muscle. Tony's amazingly strong grip, the one that nearly crushed my hand that first day we met, now squeezed my biceps as hard as he could, but he couldn't even put a dent in my muscle.

"Dude, your biceps are harder than mine. I'm sure of that!" And I think he was right. I was developing very fast, faster than he had. Putting the tape measure around the largest part of the biceps, I measured out at 16 inches. That's 3 inches bigger than when I started, and with a completely different, harder and more muscular look. My chest was now 42" when totally relaxed, though even relaxed my chest was as hard as a rock. Two slabs of marble. I loved staring at my new body, rubbing my chiseled muscles.

My waist measured a mere 26-1/2" when completely relaxed. Almost too small for my height, except that it was all muscle and rippled like nothing I had seen except in the bodybuilding mags. I had an incredibly defined eight-pack, and even without flexing my abs were as hard as a rock to the touch. I had that "cheese grater" feel that I so admired on Tony six weeks earlier.

Tony told me back when we started that his dick got bigger every time he jerked off. Well, after six weeks of incredible sexual potency, I knew what he meant. With the amazing amount of masturbating I'd been doing in the past six weeks, I'd gotten to know my one-eyed friend better than ever, and I most definitely was bigger. When I started, I had a very respectable 8 inches. Now, according to my trusty tape measure, my manhood was a whopping 9-3/4 inches. And it was thicker too, about in proportion to the growth in length.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, naked and erect, flexing my hard muscles, I realized that except for Tony, I had without a doubt the hottest body of any teenager I had ever seen. And the biggest dick anywhere outside of a porn movie. I was ready for the new school year. •

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