Saturday 6 January 2018

MUSCLE FICTION STORY: HAVE YOU SEEN THESE POSING TRUNKS? (PART 1)

OK lads, it's time for the first part of my new story! This one is written in diary form and features a self confessed muscle addict called Oscar, who meets a local (huge and gorgeous) competitive bodybuilder in very unusual circumstances.

I had the initial idea for this story a few years ago but never got round to writing it. However, even though the set up is an old idea, everything else here is new.

Oh, and as you can probably guess from the title, there's a pretty heavy focus on teenie weenie, super shiny, brightly coloured posers!

Thanks to Anthony Chia-Bradley for letting me use one of his pics for the below design.


HAVE YOU SEEN THESE POSING TRUNKS?

Monday July 10th

Dear Muscle Diary,

Here are five things about muscle that drive me completely and utterly bonkers.

#1. Biceps

Big, granite hard, croquet ball shaped guns. Huge, freaky, vein encrusted peaks. Insanely pumped, thinly skinned, beyond human biceps. Guns that erupt to heart stopping proportions when blown up in an incredible front double bicep pose. Cannons that explode either side of (and look just as fucking big as!) the head of the muscle beast who owns them when rocking out a cheeky abs and thighs. Biceps that tense into a ball of rock hard, marble-like muscle mass and explode off the upper arm of a bodybuilder when he’s blasting out a massive side chest. FUCK YES!

#2. Pecs

Mammoth sized, patio slab tits. Absurdly developed, vein plastered chest pillows. Deliciously thick mounds of incredibly dense chest muscle. Pecs that hang off the torso of a jacked up muscle bull, begging to be squeezed, tensed and flexed. Chests that jump up like a cobra trying to attack the owner’s chin when he hits a front lat spread. Tits that bounce up and down like two puppies in a sack when the two hundred plus pounds muscle God they’re attached to decides to treat his adoring audience to a spot of pec bouncing. BOING!

#3. Attitude/Cocky Posing

For me, diary, the way a bodybuilder poses, and the attitude he adopts when he’s flexing, both on and off stage, has a huge part to play in how hot I find him. Nothing gets me going more than seeing a competition conditioned muscle freak stomping and strutting around a stage while displaying the most outrageously cocky, testosterone fuelled, power packed ‘tude! Ripped up muscle lads who really give it hell on stage, pulling all manner of shamelessly cocky facial expressions. Juiced up muscle pups who scrunch up their faces to absolute buggery and cheekily stick their tongues out as they squeeze their tan drenched mass. Roided up beef monsters who grunt, groan and yell as they crank out their poses with only mission on their minds; to make every audience member cream in their pants. FUCK YEAH LADS!

#4. Glutes

Obscenely developed, indecently muscular rumps. Enormous sized, gravity defying bottoms. Freakishly striated, line plastered glutes. Alien-like, shredded to buggery booties that explode with lines, details and striations when tensed and flexed on stage. Wafer thin skin encased arses so insanely conditioned you could grab a block of cheddar and use them as a fucking cheese grater. Gigantic orbs of ass meat that greedily gobble up the back of the tiny, shiny posing trunks of the owner. YOINK!

#5. POSING TRUNKS!

It’s not just the image of competition conditioned bodybuilders that drives me nuts. It’s also the outrageous clothing garments known as posing trunks they’re required on wear on stage. Yes diary ... I FUCKING LOVE POSING TRUNKS!! Brightly coloured, teenie weenie trunks so unbelievably shiny you need sunglasses to look directly at them. Micro sized posers whose stupidly thin straps get pulled up and yanked during a cheeky lat spread (YOINK)! Shiny as shit trunks which get plastered in greasy, golden tan and fucking drenched with the sweat of the muscle bull wearing them during competitions (SLURP)! Bright pink, glute hugging trunks. Glittery gold, bulge stretching trunks. TRUNKS, TRUNKS, TRUNKS!

Yours,

Oscar Grimes (self confessed, horn crazed muscle addict)

Wednesday July 12th

Dear Muscle Diary,

Oh. My. Fucking. GOD!! You will not bloody believe what has happened. Or what I'm now in possession of, and staring at, right at this very moment. FUCK!!

OK, let me start at the beginning. So, tonight was washing night at my local launderette (whoop whoop). Wednesday's are not usually very busy but, for some reason, tonight all of the machines were being used (bugger). I was about to leave when I noticed that one had finished its cycle but, annoyingly, no one seemed to be taking their newly washed clothes out of the machine.

I sat on the bench and started to read a book, in hope that the washing would be collected, or that another machine would be freed up shortly.

Ten or so minutes into waiting (double fucking bugger) and I was seriously considering giving up and trying again for tomorrow night when, who should walk into the laundrette, but the man who owned the finished washing sitting in the machine. But not just any man. Oh no, diary. A fucking BODYBUILDER!!

My jaw almost dropped to the floor when he walked in. Because of where I was sitting, I could only see him from the back initially. He was about six foot tall and built like a brick fucking shit house. A huge barn door back stretched out a black hoodie with the words “DEANO’S GYM” written on the back. Deano’s is a local hardcore bodybuilding gym. If a bodybuilder were to hail from Brighton, he'd almost be guaranteed to have trained there.

Two gigantic orbs of ass meat were stretching his black shorts, making up one of the biggest and most perfectly round arses I have ever seen on a man. And on the lower part of his legs sat two ridiculously huge and developed calves.

Every single person in the laundrette looked up at the sight of this monstrous bodybuilder waddling through the shop.

When he was done throwing his washing into a bag, and finally freeing up the machine, he turned to head for the door, and that's when I managed to get a view of him from the front. Ho. Lee. Fucking. Shit!

Well, my eyes went straight to the top of his enormous chest. Peeking out of the top of his gym hoodie zipper, I could just see the top of two plates of thick muscle, separated by a deep groove in between. Other than his shins and his thick bull neck, it was, sadly, the only glimpse of flesh I got to see.

But something else more than made up for the that. Now able to see the muscle monster’s face, I could see that he was exceptionally fucking sexy in the looks department. Undeniably British and extremely masculine, but with a hint of boyish charm, I guessed he was no older than his early thirties. His hair was styled into a trendy quiff, but shaved really short at the sides. His complexion, while not quite competition bronzed, was more tanned than the average British man. Even for July.

He strolled out of the door with his focus straight ahead, completely ignoring the gawps and stares of every average sized person in the launderette.

The way he walked, the way he looked, everything about him just exuded this incredible confidence, that sat just below that fine line which crossed into arrogance.

The whole scene was incredibly surreal, not to mention insanely horny. This ginormous sized, juiced up, muscle bull casually strolling through the run down launderette I frequented on an almost weekly bases. FUCK!!

So, you're probably now thinking that that's the end of the story? The reason for my over excitement at the beginning of this diary entry? An awesome and horny muscle sighting involving a huge, gorgeous bodybuilder?! WRONG!!

So, with the washing machine previously used by the muscle beast now freed up, I dumped my clothes in there without really paying much attention to what I was doing; my mind still pre-occupied with thoughts of the absurdly sexy, big bummed gorilla I'd just unexpectedly encountered.

An hour later, and still on a high from the muscle sighting, I was throwing my now washed clothes into one of the launderette 's tumble dryers when I suddenly noticed something tangled up in my washing which made my heart jump into my fucking throat!

In amongst my wet towels and work shirts, I could see something foreign, blue, bright and shiny, and I knew, in an instant, exactly what it was.

You know that scene in Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory, where Charlie Bucket opens the bar of chocolate and gets a glimpse of the shiny golden ticket? Well now I know exactly how Charlie felt.

I reached my hand into the dryer, and tentatively pulled on the blue, shiny fabric, just enough to confirm that, mixed up with my washing, was a pair of genuine bodybuilder’s posing trunks! FUCK!!

I shut the dryer door, put the spin on and sat back down in the bench; grinning like crazy and barely able to contain my excitement.

The gorgeous Deano’s Gym attending muscle bull had accidentally left a pair of his posing trunks in the machine, and I had clearly not noticed them when I'd popped my washing in after him.

Of course, the right thing to do in this situation would have been to hand the stray garments in. And normally I would have. But this was no normal situation. And these were no ordinary garments. These were fucking posers! Actual posers from an actual fucking bodybuilder. The thing that turned me on, only second to the type of roided freaks and monsters who wore them on stage.

My dick had started to stir and grow the second I clapped eyes on the blue material, and had grown further the moment my fingers had made contact with the fabric. Fuck! I'd actually touched a pair of shiny posers!! FUCK!! I was actually now potentially in possession of a pair for of shiny posers! Triple fucking FUCK! Unless the bodybuilder came back to retrieve them before the dryer stopped, of course.

And then I had an image of the muscle bull storming back into the launderette, checking the machine, frantically looking around and approaching the old dear who worked there looking for his missing posing. But such an event did not occur and, before I knew it, my dryer had stopped and my washing was done.

There was no way I was going to hand the trunks in, not least of all because I couldn't think of anything more embarrassing than handing a pair of bright blue posers to the lovely, but slightly batty, old woman working there.

I could have left them in the dryer I guess. That would have been the second most moralistic thing to do. But I didn't. Because I knew that if I did, I would always regret it. So I did what any sane muscle addict with a rampant love for tiny, glute hugging posing trunks would have done. I scooped my washing from the dryer into my bag, making sure that no item had been left behind.

Whilst heading to the door, a man sitting on the bench gave me a curious look, a little like I was a crazy person, because I couldn't wipe the smirk off my face or hide the elation I was feeling knowing that in my bag was a pair of the thinly stripped, super shiny posing trunks of a gorgeous, roid munching competitive bodybuilder. JESUS. FUCKING. CHRIST.

The whole walk home I was absolutely buzzing. I kept thinking about what was in my bag at that precise moment, intertwined with my boxer shorts and t-shirts. I couldn't fucking wait to get home and examine the posers further.

The moment that came and I was stood in my bedroom with my washing bag placed on the bed, my heart was pounding like crazy. It was madness! How could an item of clothing stir such intense feelings in me?

I rummaged through the bag and, once again, my dick began to swell and my excitement grew when my fingers and eyes were met with the shiny blue posing trunk material.

Retrieving the freshly washed trunks from the bag I held them up in front of me and just revelled in the horniness and amazingness of what I was holding in my hands.

They looked even shinier than they had from the tumble dryer. It sounds crazy - I had seen so many pictures of videos of bodybuilders wearing posing trunks, but never, ever did I imagine that they'd be so shiny in real life. Or that the fabric would feel so good in my fingertips.

I ran my hands over the thick, shiny pouch, my fingertips up and down the thin, wiry straps, flipped them around and felt the blue material which made up the back.

I suddenly had an image of the muscle bull I'd so brilliantly seen earlier that day waddling towards me in the launderette, hitting a monstrous crab most muscular, tanned up to shit and wearing these very posers and my fully erect cock juddered furiously in my boxers.

I don't know why I did what I did next. I bought the trunk pouch to my nose and, bringing the material to my face, I took a big sniff of the shiny fabric. Predictably, I was hit with the smell of fabric conditioner. But there was something else hidden there too - the incredibly horny scent of the material itself, which no doubt would have been stronger, sexier and more intense when the muscle bull had bought them brand new.

I wanted more than anything to take my jeans and boxers off. To work the trunks up my regular sized, non muscular legs and nestle my throbbing cock into the shiny blue pouch.

But something stopped me. The knowledge that they weren't really mine. Somehow, it just didn't feel right. Instead, I just I lay the trunks on my bed and marvelled at the beauty and all out fucking sexiness of them. A pair of bodybuilders posing trunks. Brighter, shinier and hornier than I could ever have imagined.

Yours,

Oscar Grimes (sort of proprietor of tiny, shiny posing trunks - FUCK!)

Thursday July 13th

Dear Muscle Diary,

What a day! I don't think I've ever survived a work day before being so pre-occupied, or feeling so damn fucking tired.

And the reason for both of those things? The bright blue posing trunks I'm now so brilliantly and crazily in possession of.

I literally have not stopped thinking about them, diary. It's like I've been possessed. Those teenie weenie, super shiny garments have taken over my whole mind.

And it wasn't just today either. It was last night too. It sounds completely and utterly bonkers, but I didn't fall asleep until two a.m. My mind just would not shut off. Just knowing what was sitting in my drawers mere metres away from my bed. Those beautifully shiny, brilliantly coloured posers.

I finally managed to get to sleep, only to wake up an hour later, hard as fuck and with the trunks still occupying my mind.

There was only one thing for it. I got out of bed, opened my drawer and held the posing trunks in my hands.

I took them back to bed with me. I didn't really know what my intention was, but I needed to blow badly and I wanted the trunks to be there.

I thought, again, about putting them on. It felt a little less wrong than it did before. But it still didn't feel completely right. Not now. Not like this.

My cock was throbbing furiously and I started to tug on it through my boxers underneath the duvet.

With the posers in my free hand, once again, I bought the material to my face and placed the trunks flat over it. Shiny, shiny fabric over my mouth, nose, forehead and covering my eyes. I rubbed the posers in my face with my hand while wanking off. The smell of the trunks filling my nostrils, the shiny, slippery fabric consuming my face, as I breathed in the posing trunk material.

I kept imagining where they'd been. In a pump room. On a bodybuilding stage. In the audience of a show during a crazy posedown as their beefed up, tan plastered roid monster of an owner flexed and posed in them.

As I continued to wank and breathe in the posers, I thought about that very roid monster who I’d seen earlier that evening. The “DEANO’S GYM” hoodie. That ridiculous back. His enormous, perfectly round arse. Those huge calves on display. That pec cleavage. The bull neck. His gorgeous, tanned face. That super hot hairdo. And the way he strutted through that launderette. A genuine muscle bull amongst mere mortals.

And then I imagined him wearing the trunks. Pulling the straps up as he hit a lat spread pose on stage to wild applause from the audience. Turning around and outrageously tucking the back of the posers into the crack separating those two gigantic orbs of ass meat.

I grew closer to cumming and groaned into the poser fabric as I imagined these very trunks buried deep in his arse crack. The pouch filled out and stretched by his dick. His bronzed competition tan rubbing off on to the trunks as his bulge rubs against his inner quads. Trunks getting mucked with tan. Sweat dripping down his abs and reaching the shiny fabric. Pre-cum dripping into the crotch as he squeezes a monster most muscular on stage.

And then I imagined him rushing home after the show. Still drenched in tan. Still wearing his posers. His bright, shiny, teenie tiny posers, now drenched in the tan, oil, and sweat of its muscle monster owner; full of adrenaline and testosterone and horny as hell from flexing and showing off what a fuck off huge muscle freak he is to a room full of ordinary, non bodybuilders, all of whom were dying to touch and worship his muscle, making him feel like the God that he is.

And then I imagined him flexing in the mirror. Cranking out pose after pose. Grunting, groaning, huffing and puffing with every squeeze and flex. His hard throbbing cock stretching out his mucky pup posing trunks to an outrageous degree, ready to explode at any given moment.

And as I imagined the muscle bull squeezing out a trap exploding crab most muscular while growling like an animal and filling up his posing trunks with spunk, I pushed those very posers into my face and unleashed a muffled groan as thick wads of cum exploded from my cock and filled up my boxer shorts in what was probably one of the most intense and pleasurable orgasms I’ve ever had. FUUUUUUCKKKK!!

Yours,

Oscar Grimes (self confessed, horn crazed lover of the tiny, shiny posing trunks I now sort of own!)

COMING UP IN PART 2: Oscar tries on the trunks, and finds out more about the bodybuilder who originally owned them.

17 comments:

  1. man....i'm feeling as horny as oscar here!
    you're such a tease not having him try them on yet!! and how i wish there was still evidence of competition use in them.
    definitely one for us trunks lovers.
    it works as a stand alone piece....but jeeeez....i can't wait to read more!
    thank you!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hehe! Really glad you like it so far matie! Lots more to come!! :)

      Delete
  2. LOVE IT!!!! The description of the muscle lad is great, that barn door back in the DEANO’S GYM hoody. I think we all know what those kind of gyms are like!! I love how he just breezes out of the launderette totally oblivious to the attention he’s getting. And those FUCKING TRUNKS!!! I wanna know where he got em cause I WANT WANT WANT A PAIR!!!! Can’t wait for the next part!!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. FUCK!! Loving this comment! ;) Yes mate - Deanos would be your typical hellhole, hardcore British bodybuilding gym! Pictures of bodybuilders on the wall in competition (grrrrrr!), 90s trance music blaring (UNF UNF UNF), lads shouting words of encouragement to each other and even the odd one practicing his posing in the mirror! And yep - wouldn't mind owning a pair (or two...or fucking several) of those shiny little blue fuckers myself!! Thanks for the awesome feedback matie! ;)

      Delete
  3. What is the big deal about tiny posing trunks on professional bodybuilders ? They show more muscular development in the upper legs and the striations in the glutes, etc. If you are focusing on the men's penis and balls, you should try watching more gay porno.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What can I say? Just like Oscar...I FUCKING LOVE POSING TRUNKS!! I guess they're just part of that look of a competition conditioned bodybuilder, which turns me on so much. But take them off the bodybuilder and I still find the tiny, shiny, sticky little fuckers exceptionally horny! And thanks for the suggestion of gay porn, but I think I'll stick to watching roided up muscle freaks caked from head to toe in bronzed tan, stomping around bodybuilding stages flexing and showing off their God-like mass in nothing but a pair of THE fuck-off hottest, shiny as shit posing trunks!

      Delete
    2. Haven't you come across the "3MC" syndrome, postulated by "Stefan" and Ray Lawrence some years ago - "Maximum Muscle with Minimal Cover"? They were possibly the best of musclemen morphers, in a very realistic and sublte way. Their philosophy was that a tiny, compact and packed pouch, held in place (more or less) by vulnerable string-like side straps serves to emphasise the massive muscularity of the wearer. Agreed?

      Delete
  4. Being interested in reading the diary, I actually skipped over your preface to the jottings and started reading the daily entries. It wasn't till I got to the end where I saw it was labeled a muscle fiction story that I realized it was only a story This story is so believable and left me wondering who was Oscar and why was he writing these detailed feelings? I like the way the posers became a window - a key opening up into the bodybuilder's world. After bumping into this muscle freak, only made Oscar's life more interesting, as well, exciting. Looking forward to more

    ReplyDelete
  5. This story is totally hot, & I can't wait to read the rest! That's true of all your stories, of course. We seem to share the same muscle obsessions, especially the one that puts muscle worship ahead of any run-of-the-mill porn. BTW, where can I find "Charlie's Secret"? I'd planned to buy it on Amazon, but it seems to have disappeared from their site.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for the feedback matie. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! :) I did reply to your comment on my previous post but not sure if you saw it. I unpublished my ebooks but I might re-post Charlie's Secret here at some point. I'd probably do a little bit of work on it first though.

      Delete
  6. OMG how do you know my obsession so well? I’m ready to blow a load after reading about Oscar and his wanderlust. Maybe should leave it at lust. I’m probably the second most obsessed guy about posers. They can ruin a guys total look...I’m somewhat interested in a company call Muscle Potential...they have selected videos of guys wearing their products. I’m sure most of us are well aware of the YouTube videos, check them out.
    Can’t wait for part two...I think Oscar is going to wander into the gym and try to find the rightful owner. CAN’T WAIT.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you for the awesome comment Anonymous! I love Muscle Potential posing trunks - they make some of the hottest and shiniest trunks around! I've mentioned them quite a few times in my posts. Part 2 is now up so I hope you enjoy it! ;)

      Delete
    2. One more thing I found was on Pinterest... I found a page called Posing Straps...Holy Fuck, you have to check it out....some on the best photos do tight shiny posers I’ve ever seen. Can t wait for part 2.

      Delete
    3. Thanks for the suggestion mate! Sound like a hot page - I'll have a look for it!

      Delete
  7. Muscleaddict! Mate, sorry for not reading this first installment sooner! It was on my 'Muscles to do' list but I've been stonkingly busy and I totally forgot. I must admit, posers used to be something which i didn't focus that much on until you acted as a leading light and now I'm completely besotted. Now, they are on my checklist and I get pretty hot under the collar when they're worn well!
    But mate, what also resonated with me was how Oscar's fetish is so acute that a relatively small incident of the posers completely throws him into experiencing massive waves of imagined lust! I bet we can all identify with that. I remember a couple of incidents when purely you accident, I came face to face contact with bodybuilders, ausing me to literally swoon!
    The first was at a meeting where a new colleague was to make an appearance. When he arrived, who should strut into the room but a full blown, tatted up bodybuilder! Fuuuuccckkkk, what an utterly overwhelming experience that was, turning me into a complete gibbering idiot for the entire meeting, totally unable to say anything because I was so overtaken with lust!
    The second was at my gym. As I was getting changed to train, the local bull bodybuilder was just leaving. I glanced over to where he'd been and sure enough, he'd left his membership card on the bench! I had no alternative but to pursue him and shouting out his name, he stopped, turned around, probably seeing me shambling along and panting with nervousness, handing over the card. He just gave me a smile and said "thanks buddy" and was then on his way. That tiny incident for him, caused me to spunk three times that night, immersing myself in the magical moment of speaking to a real life bodybuilder!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. LOVING this comment as always matie and I'm glad you're into the story!! I love the thought that I've played a part in encouraging someone to pay attention to and develop a liking for posing trunks!! Fuck - that's awesome! Though maybe "corrupting someone" is a better way of wording it - hehe!

      Oh and LOVING your accounts of spotting muscle in real life, especially that work colleague. Fuck! He sounds fucking hot - not sure how I'd act in that situation - hehe! But yeah - I've had many similar experiences of spotting bodybuilders, or just big guys in public (fairly well known competitive bb's on the tube, a HUGE muscle bull standing right behind me in a queue for a slide at a water park with his big abs bursting out of his tummy, and various bulls just casually waddling/strutting around in public) and I was very much drawing on those when I wrote this part of the story. There's something so surreal, and as you say, even magical about seeing a real life muscle bull in such ordinary settings and unexpectedly intruding on your everyday life!

      Delete
  8. Just discovered this blog and this story. Can’t wait to read parts 2-4!!! :)

    ReplyDelete

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...