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|I decided to stop by the gym after finishing a quick run. I hadn't
been there in a quite a while and I was in the mood for a little
action, which I never had a problem finding when I went to a regular
gym. You see, I'm not quite sure whether it's genetics or something
else, but I have some very special physical abilities. While I'm
shredded, I'm not that huge. My arms are 19" maybe 20" pumped, my
chest is only 58"and my thighs are 29". What really gets me the
stairs is my waist, which is a cut 28". Not to mention I have a
killer 8-pack and about 4% body fat. You could see every muscle
fiber in my body, but I'm getting a little off track.
So I walk in and place my membership card on the desk. From what I could see the attendant is a pretty hot little stud. Good sized and well defined body. A good dusting of light hair on his arms and, I was happy to see, he left the hair on his chest trailing down and getting lost in his tank-top. Judging from the board shorts and the above average build, I'd say he's a surfer. I like surfers, great strength, stamina and coordination. Given that he works at a gym, probably into muscle too. That's even better. He finally looks up from reading his copy of Men's Workout and his jaw about hit the desk. I was right definitely into muscle. I'll make sure to give him a good show.
Over his shoulder I see the television is tuned to the Olympic marathon and I couldn't help but chuckle. The guys thought they were so good, but the wouldn't stand much of a chance against me, and that's not just ego talking. As I mentioned, I just finished a quick run, at least for me. For other people it'd be impossible. My usual warm up run takes me about 30 minutes and covers about 30 miles. On top of that, I strap weights onto my ankles, wrists and chest. These aren't little weights either. Each ankle has 65 lbs, each wrist another 45 lbs, and my chest gets 120 lbs. Yup a total of 340 lbs, not bad, eh? That and still a one-minute mile, I'd like to see any of those Olympic guys do that.
Anyway, my laughing brought the cute little stud back to his senses. He blushed a little and scanned my ID card, seeing that I had a lifetime membership. I realized that he might have thought I was laughing at him so I decided to put his mind at ease, "You must be new here, my name's Mike," as I extended my hand.
As he watched the muscle in my flex and writhe with that simple movement, "Martin. Yeah I just started here a few weeks ago. Never seen you around; I'm sure I'd remember."
"Yeah I travel a lot and just got back in town," I lied. "I was just watching the Olympics. Kind of funny don't you think?"
He looked at me a little funny and said, "Yeah...I guess." No problem, he'll realize why later. I decided that he was going to be my target for the day.
"We'll I'd better get started," as I walked away I caught Martin starting at my back and probably my ass; his eyes kind of glazed over. Damn I love having that effect on people. No ego there, right? Well I'd only run about 20 miles and hadn't really broken a sweat and I noticed that the gym had gotten a few of those elliptical trainers that simulate running. Might as well given them a try. I wasn't sure the machine could support my 230 plus the extra 340 I was carrying so I stopped off by the locker room to drop it off before getting on the machine. I entered my current weight and selected the most difficult setting. I started my workout and couldn't help but laugh again. I didn't notice any resistance what so ever. I watched the speed indicator go past 100, 120 RPMs, then 150 RPMs and this was still way to easy. Oh well, I'll just keep it here for a while. I kept glancing at the distance and time indicator. 10 minutes and 20 miles later I was getting bored, I was just about to get off, when I noticed Martin gawking at me again. Thinking about it from his point- of-view, I can see why. My body is probably a blur of movement though it feels perfectly natural to me. Maybe I shouldn't be showing off this way; besides I'm getting bored. I slowed down and glanced at the workout summary. Total distance 27 miles, time 12 minutes, max RPMs 167, and max heart rate a cool 65 bpm. Not to bad, another good warm-up. I got off the machine, still not having broken a real sweat yet, and walked back over to Martin.
"Shit man, that was amazing." He walked over and glanced at the screen and about fell over. "Holy fuck! That's fuckin' incredible. You're not even breathing. How'd you do that?"
"It's not very challenging actually. Not a bad machine, just not hard enough," I said rather nonchalantly. I looked around the weight area not another soul to be found. Perfect. How should I really impress my little friend today? I flexed each body part slowly, pretending to stretch, and checked Martin's reaction to each one. When I hit my tri's his eyes got wide. I flexed my biceps and they got even wider. Just like I thought an arm man. Okay Martin, my boy, arms it is. I went over to the Preacher Curl machine. I never really liked these, plus there's only 180 pounds on the stack. Not much work there, so I grabbed a straight bar and went to the preacher bench. I grabbed a couple of 45s on put one on each side; this'll grab him. "Hey Martin, mind spotting me for a sec." He walked over trying to look like he wasn't in a hurry.
When he got there he asked, "So how many you going for?"
"I don't know 15 or 20, this is just a warm up."
"You're kidding right? This is 115 pounds."
"Trust me," I said as I flashed an over-confident smile and sat down on the bench. I reached over and grabbed the bar easily lifting it off the supports. I started doing my set in slow strict form. Martin stood there watching my bicep contract and force the veins into even greater relief as the blood rushed into my arm. After 20 reps I stopped and set the weight back in it's support.
"Fuck dude, I've seen guys lift weight like that before, but you make it seem so easy. After 20 reps you're not even breathing. How the hell do you do that?"
"I'll tell you in a minute. It's time for my next set." I got up and grabbed another pair of 45s and slapped them on the each side. Martin's eyes went wide again.
"Now way man. No one can do that."
"We'll see." I put on a cocky smile as I reached over the bench again. This time I only grabbed the bar with my left hand.
"No way, dude. No way," Martin said shaking his head. I just looked over at him still smiling and flexed my left bicep. The bar lifted off the support just as smoothly as the first time. Martin's jaw dropped. I did 25 reps in perfect strict form before setting the bar back down and switching hands. I did another 25 perfect reps with my right arm before setting the bar down. "That's amazing. You just curled more then I fuckin' weight with a single arm!
I stood up and hit a double bicep pose. Each muscle fiber is clearly visible and pulsing with strength and I still haven't really done anything yet. I reached over and squeezed my right bi. Harder then steal. Martin licked his lips and flexed his fingers for a bit. "Go ahead and give them a feel. Tell me what you think." He just looked at me. I nodded as he slowly reached over and feel my arm. He squeezed lightly and then with growing force, though nothing to bother me. I've broken a vice on these arms, but that's another story. I looked down and noticed a bulge growing in Martin's board shorts. "So what do you think?"
"Fucking incredible. It's so hard. It's like feeling a warm rock. You're still not even breathing, was that hard?
"That, my friend, was nothing. Why don't you lock the door and I'll really show you something." He ran to the front as fast as he could and I knew I had him. He was back in less then 30 seconds. I walked over and grabbed another set of plates and asked Martin to bring two more. I moved the weight from the smaller bar to a full size one since I didn't know if it could support this weight. Four 45 pound plates on each side, plus the bar, a total of 405 pounds. Still not quite my max, but it'll knock Martin's socks and probably his cock off, judging from the growing bulge in his shorts. Not a bad package either, but back to business. Again I reached over and grabbed the bar with my left hand. I took a breath and cleanly lifted the bar off the support.
10 reps, 20, 25, but I didn't stop there, 30, 35, 40. After 45 Martin started counting them off. "46, 47, 48, Holy Shit, 49, 50!" I set the bar down, changed hands and started again. "...48, 49, 50!" I returned the bar to it's support. "Amazing. Fuckin' Amazing, dude. You must be the strongest man alive," He reached over and rubbed my biceps again. "Damn. It's so hard and it fells like you have a nuclear rector in there."
"Maybe I do, " I smiled at him as I reached down and cupped his growing erection. "You're not so soft yourself. I guess you like what you've seen so far, eh?"
"Oh yeah. Absolutely incredible. I still can't believe it."
"That? Well that wasn't to bad. Still a little to light though." I reached around his legs and back, scooped him into my arms, and started to curl him.
I interrupted him, "You're not very heavy yourself, what about 195?"
"What? Yeah, how'd you know?"
"I know my weights pretty well. Go ahead feel them up and squeeze as hard as you want. I don't mind at all," I said as I continued effortlessly curling this stud's body. Martin reached over and grabbed my right peak and squeezed with all his might. It felt like a drop of rain. I never have found a man strong enough to do much more then that. He stopped squeezing and I put him down after about 60 reps. He started rubbing his forearm.
"It's so hard. I didn't even make a dent in it and my hands are pretty strong."
"You don't say. Here grab more forearm, and tell me if you like this." I grabbed a 2 and half pound weight and held it in my palm as Marty grabbed my arm. Then I slowly closed my hard, watching the "hard" iron get crushed by my powerful fingers. To me it was as soft as wet clay. After I closed my hand I rolled the weight in my hand until all that was left was a small ball of iron. I opened my hand and Marty let go. His breathing was a bit labored. When I looked at his basket I knew why a wet spot had formed on his shorts. He shot his load. "Ahh Marty, that was supposed to be mine." I reached around his waist, just above the belt line and lifted him high into the air. His feet were dangling around my waist a good three feet off the ground. He put his arms on my head to steady himself. I pulled his shorts off careful not to rip them, and saw the thick cream on his still throbbing cock. "Now look at this mess," I said as I inhaled his hard cock and cleaned all the cum off it, but I didn't stop there. I moved his body away from mine, pulling his cock from my mouth. "You got any more for me?" I swallowed his cock again and started flexing my arm. Using the motion to push his cock in and out of my mouth. I applied a little pressure with my tongue and started sucking. It didn't take long before I was rewarded with another blast of his cream. I still kept going and got another couple of blasts before he was done.
I pulled him out and set him back on the floor. "Holy shit! That was the best sex I've ever had. No one has ever made me feel that way or cum more then once so quickly!"
"Hey, my little man, that's just my first exercise. I'm not done with my workout yet." I smiled with my cocky grin.
"Oh shit yeah." His eyes glossed over and he smiled back.
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