The story has been slightly tweaked and polished since it was first posted here on the blog and is being published under my author pseudonym Clayton James.
I've always loved posting my stories on the blog in the past. and the feedback I received from you guys whenever I did was fantastic, but I had always planned to do something more with them, and publishing them on Amazon felt like the obvious direction to go in!
I'd like to say a massive thanks to my graphic designer friend who collaborated with me on the cover and helped bring my ideas to life. It was a really fun process, and I'm really happy with the results!
"Charlie's Secret" will be my next book published so stay tuned for more details with regards to that. I'm also in the process of building a website in support of the books, more details of which will be announced here soon!
For those of you in the UK click here: http://ow.ly/PbSfw
The book is available worldwide so for those in other countries, you should be able to find it by doing a search on your countries Amazon store.
You don't need a physical Kindle device to download the book. You can simply download it through the Kindle app on your iPhone, iPad, PC, Android-based device, BlackBerry, or Windows Phone 7-based device.
A British bodybuilding fan and self confessed muscle addict stumbles across the profile of a fairly well known amateur American bodybuilder on a gay Internet dating website. Could this be his chance to live out some of his biggest muscle fantasies with a real life, monstrous sized, incredibly conditioned muscle freak one day out from a bodybuilding competition?
Insanely huge biceps are flexed, thick shredded quads are tensed, gorgeously ripped six pack abs are crunched, insatiably thick pecs are squeezed and inhumanely striated glutes are tensed in this tale of muscle lust, fantasy and worship.
This is an 18,000 word story which contains scenes of muscle worship, graphic language, homosexual relations and depictions of sexual acts.
AN AMERICAN MUSCLE GOD - PREVIEW
There’s only really one thing you need to know about me. I absolutely love huge, freaky muscle. Nothing turns me on more than the sight of an obscenely pumped, ridiculously huge, insanely shredded muscle monster, flexing and squeezing his superhuman mass, every single absurdly sized, outrageously pumped body part twitching and bulging underneath his inhumanly thin, cling wrap skin.
Everything and anything about the sight of a huge, ripped bodybuilder drives me absolutely crazy. From full, thick pecs which bounce and twitch with the slightest movement as if they have a life of their own, to huge, pumped croquet ball shaped biceps stretching the owner’s paper thin skin to the max. From hard, shredded abs popping out of the owner’s stomach like bricks, to cartoonishly huge and comically wide watermelon shaped delts. From big, thick, tree trunk quads wider than the average man’s waist, to crazily developed, inhumanly striated glutes which look so hard they would break any fingers that would attempt to prize them apart.
I even love the tiny, shiny, brightly coloured posing trunks they wear on stage, the way they hug the bodybuilder’s cock bulge buried in between his huge quads, and the way the back often get swallowed up into the muscle freak’s ass crack because his glutes are so damn thick and huge. I love the ridiculously dark bronzed tan they often use on stage, the way it enhances the muscles and makes them look as freakishly ripped and cut as humanly possible, and I absolutely love the arrogant, cocky, superior attitude that comes with being a monstrous mountain of muscle.
The way bodybuilders arrogantly grimace, scrunch and screw their faces up as they flex their mighty mass, the cocky facial expressions, grins and smirks as if they’re saying “fuck yeah, I know I’m shit fucking hot” and the outrageous way some bodybuilders stick out their tongues and arrogantly open their mouths as wide as they can as they squeeze their phenomenally huge muscle. The knowledge that they look amazing, that they’re bigger than the average man, and that they’ve morphed their bodies into something so crazy, insane and freaky that people will stop, stare, shriek and gasp in horror at the sight of them, and the power that comes in knowing that there are people out there who are so unbelievably turned on by their indecently pumped and shockingly huge mass that the mere thought of them makes them want to cum. People who would give anything just to touch their freakishly developed muscle mass. People exactly like me.
Just watching videos, or even looking at pictures of huge, bronzed, flexing muscle Gods was enough to make me lose my load, but of course, I’d always fantasised about being with a bodybuilder too. What it would be like to have a bodybuilder flexing within inches of me, seeing that huge, ripped mass twitching and bulging before my eyes, and of course, what it would be like to reach out and touch that flexed muscle. How it would feel to have that hard, pumped mass bulging and flexing beneath my fingers. Touching, feeling and squeezing the kind of gloriously shredded and otherworldly huge muscle I’d been obsessing over for years.
I had always known that the possibility of this happening was fairly slim. I knew that most competitive bodybuilders were straight, and that the small percentage of gay ones would probably only be interested in other bodybuilders, not a guy like me, who had built up a small amount of muscle from regularly going to the gym, but for all intent and purposes, was still a slim guy. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to find a bodybuilder who would make my fantasies a reality how and when I did.
I wasn’t the type of guy who spent hours trawling through profiles on Internet dating sites, but every now and then I would have a look out of boredom and curiosity. I’d always discover a fair few muscular guys in London. I’d got lucky a few times and met some of the smaller ones, sometimes for dates, others just for sex, but often, they were only really interested in guys who matched their size and muscularity. I’d only ever come across a handful of guys who described themselves as “bodybuilders”, often they would be fairly big guys with a decent amount of size on them, but they were still a world away from the huge and ripped competitive bodybuilders I’d spent years fantasising about. All of that changed, however, last Saturday afternoon.
I hadn’t particularly found anyone of interest online that day, the usual muscle guys I always saw, most of whom I’d already previously spoken to, or been ignored by, pages of lads I had no interest in or attraction to, and a few cute guys I didn’t really have the energy to message. I distinctively remember boredom setting in and thinking to myself that it wouldn’t be long before I logged off and found a more constructive way to spend my day, and then, as I scrolled down a page of thumbnail versions of profile pictures, I came across one which instantly made my stomach jump into my throat and my eyeballs almost pop straight out of my head and collapse onto the keyboard. It was a bodybuilder. A genuine picture of a huge, ripped, tan drenched bodybuilder in an abs and thighs pose at what looked like a competition.
It was so surreal to see such an image on a gay dating website I visited regularly. In the midst of all these ordinary, regular sized guys was a huge, pumped muscle freak. Sceptical that the profile was genuine, I clicked on the profile name “american_muscle_god”, which appealed to me almost as much as the picture, and his full profile popped up in another window.
As his main picture appeared in full size, I instantly recognised him. I couldn’t quite put a name to the face, but I knew who he was. He was a pretty well known American bodybuilder, who was rumoured to be gay. I got instantly hard looking at his main picture. He was handsome, with big pretty eyes, and a shaved head. In bodybuilding terms, he wasn’t huge but he was a big guy, at a guess, an amateur heavyweight competitor. The picture, as suspected, was of him in competition squeezing the most amazing abs and thighs pose. His enormous biceps were bulging either side of his head, his gorgeous looking deeply cut abdominals were fully crunched, and his phenomenally thick and amazingly detailed quads were tensed. His eyes were closed and his mouth was forced wide open in the most shamelessly cocky and arrogant facial expression.
Another one of his profile pictures, a most muscular shot from the same show, beautifully showed off his impressive upper body and fully displayed his monstrous sized delts and insatiably thick pecs. As my eyes eagerly scanned the other pictures of this amazing muscle freak, a side chest shot in what looked like a gym locker room, displaying his fantastic cuts, impressive size and ridiculously gorgeous looks, and a close up shot taken in the bathroom mirror brilliantly displaying his ripped abs and huge arms, I started to wonder whether this profile could actually be genuine. My hope grew further as I scanned the brief text on his profile.
Competitive American bodybuilder, 5’11, currently at 220lbs in ripped competition condition. In town for a short time. Looking for sexy guys who appreciate big muscles.
My mind was racing with questions. Could this be the real deal? If he was in competition condition did that mean he was competing here in London? He hadn’t specified what kind of guys he was interested in. Could there be any kind of small chance he’d be interested in me?
I had to message him. I predicted that he’d probably received a ton of messages already so I had to make sure mine stood out. As I thought about what I could possibly say to this potentially genuine competitive bodybuilder, I realised just having the opportunity to speak to him, and the prospect of a simple reply, no matter how short, was pretty amazing. I decided to play to my strengths. I was crazy about muscle and bodybuilders and taking the sexual element of it aside, I had a genuine interest in the bodybuilding industry. Even if he didn’t consider me to be one of the “sexy guys” he was apparently looking for, maybe there was a chance he’d at least appreciate hearing from a genuine muscle fan.
Hey man. Genuine bodybuilder/muscle fan here. Follow the competitions, been to a couple of shows, seen a lot of the big pros. Awesome to find a genuine competitive bodybuilder on here! You look amazing. Insane cuts and definition, the quads are especially crazy, awesome sweeps, incredible size all over, impressive fullness and thickness of the pecs. You say you’re in competition condition, does that mean you’re in London to compete? Would be great to hear from you, if not take it easy and keep up the amazing work.
I edited the message a fair few times, read it over and over, analysed it, wondered if there was more I could say, if I’d said too much, whether he’d read it and think I was just some guy chancing my luck and ignore it, whether he’d actually read it at all. I still wasn’t completely convinced it was a genuine profile at that point.
I decided I wasn’t going to just sit and stare at my pc screen anticipating whether he would reply. Instead, I stood up, walked out the room, and did some things around the flat to try and distract myself, but the only thing I could think about was whether the “American Muscle God” had responded to my message. After about ten minutes, I couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer, so I returned to my PC eagerly examining the screen for a notification that I’d received a message from the muscle freak. I got to the screen, and nothing. My heart sank, but then, about three seconds later, a message notification came through.
Hey dude. Great to hear from a genuine fan! I’m in town competing in an amateur bodybuilding show tomorrow. Staying at a hotel in the Docklands. You’re cute! Why don’t you stop by for a visit?
My stomach leaped into my chest. I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing, and I had serious doubts about whether the profile and the message were genuine or not, but with all of those doubts came an overwhelming feeling that I was potentially being faced with a once in a lifetime opportunity that I would always regret if I didn’t take. This was something I just had to do, whatever the outcome. I agreed to go round straight away. In the messages exchanged following his original, he had described himself as “ripped to the bone, super pumped and horny as hell” which I found both a little cheesy and outrageously hot. I was incredibly nervous getting ready in my flat, and even downed two shots of neat vodka to calm my nerves. I was potentially about to meet and have sex with a real American bodybuilder in competition condition.