My heart was pounding and my cock was furiously pulsating as I looked down at the plethora of shiny, colourful material. I had found Liam “The Guns” Watson’s posing trunk collection. And it was the most glorious and downright fucking horny collection you could imagine."
It's time for part 4 of "Have You Seen These Posing Trunks?"
In the last part, muscle junkie Oscar returned to the launderette where he'd previously found a pair of local bodybuilder Liam "The Guns" Watson's shiny blue posing trunks mixed in amongst his washing, to find that the gorgeous muscle bull had erected a poster asking if anyone had seen those very trunks. Thus providing Oscar with the opportunity to meet and converse with a genuine, competition conditioned bodybuilder.
After much deliberation over whether to give up the trunks he'd come to love so much, Oscar seized the day and got in contact with "The Guns". Now he's on his way over to the flat of the gorgeous, 200 plus pounds muscle freak...
Dear Muscle Diary,
My name is Oscar Grimes and I'm obsessed with exactly two things; shiny, tiny, brightly coloured posing trunks, and the huge, roided muscle bulls who wear them.
Last Wednesday was a day I'll never forget. Not only did I witness a bodybuilder in the flesh in my local launderette, but I also found a pair of his posing trunks left behind in one of the machines.
And today, Friday July 21st, is also a day I’ll never forget. For so, so many reasons.
I've always found it amazing how a single moment can stick in your memory and stay there forever. So many things happen to us every single day, and many of them are forgotten so quickly. But sometimes, something will stay in our heads. Like our brain takes a picture of a precise moment that we can access any time we like. And every time we do, it’s almost as clear as when it happened. Today was full of those very moments.
One of which was when Liam “The Guns” Watson opened the door to his flat, and all six feet and two hundred plus pounds of him was stood staring at me from over the threshold.
Obviously I’d encountered this absurdly sexy muscle beast in the flesh two Wednesday’s before when we’d waddled into the launderette. Another such moment that will forever be etched on to my memory.
And yet, as he stood looking at me with a warm, inviting smile, I was completely overwhelmed with just how insanely fucking hot he was.
Presumably because he was only two days out from competing, his skin was tinted a gorgeous, golden colour. A few more coats and he’d be bronzed and ready to step to stage. It completely contrasted with my typically pale complexion.
His hair had changed since our first encounter a week and a half ago. It was now shaved except for a strip down the middle, which was not only spiked up and styled into a hot Mohawk, but dyed bright blue in the most outrageous fashion.
Strong, masculine features sat on his handsome face. His slightly large, jug ears stuck out in the sexiest fashion (perfect for grabbing hold of with both sets of fingers when pounding his obscenely huge arse) and on both cheeks, either side of his devastatingly gorgeous grin, sat two little dimples like parenthesis. (The most adorable looking parenthesis you’re ever likely to see.)
As for the mountain of outrageously developed muscle sitting below his neckline; annoyingly, it was covered up save for the top of his broad chest peeking out over the top of the same black hoodie he'd worn at the launderette.
Much like on that occasion, he was wearing long shorts, so everything bar his completely smooth, bronzed shins were covered up.
But even though there was very little beef on display, I was still completely overwhelmed and incredibly aroused by his enormous frame. Standing before me was a man who’d moulded and transformed his once ordinary sized body into that of an excessively sized muscle freak.
I couldn’t help but wonder at one moment had Liam realised he’d crossed the line from gym going muscle lad into all out roided muscle bull? When random strangers had started gawping, shrieking and pointing at him as he walked down North Street? When he’d attempted to buy a hoodie in H&M to discover it was too small, forcing him to buy an XXL sized one from the shop at Deano’s Gym? Or maybe it had the first time he'd looked in the mirror and his dick had instantly exploded at the image of the monstrous muscle freak staring back at him?
“Oscar?” he asked as I stood at the door, about an inch shorter than him, the shiny blue posing trunks I’d said my sad goodbyes to fifteen minutes before tucked up in the backpack slung over my regular sized, non freaky shoulders.
The nerves I’d felt walking to Liam’s house seemed to have been overtaken by a sense of sheer shock and disbelief of being in the presence of, not only a real life competitive bodybuilder, but one as utterly huge and sexy as Liam.
“Yeah. Hi!” I said, trying to keep my focus on his face, and not be too blatant about staring at his enormous frame.
“Come in mate,” he said, ushering me over the threshold and shutting the door behind me. As he sidled past me, we were closer than ever. Just being in such close proximity to a muscle bull of such magnificent size was incredibly horny.
I followed Liam into his flat, taking in his huge back covered up by his Deano’s Gym hoodie and his outrageously developed and astonishingly huge arse stretching the material of his blue shorts.
“Do you want a drink Oscar?”
I loved the way he called me by my name like we were friends, even though we’d only just met.
“Ummm … can I just have some water please?”
“Sure mate!” Liam replied, before disappearing into the kitchen and leaving me in the living room of Brighton's biggest and sexiest muscle bull. I quickly scoured the room. A big Union Jack rug sat on the floor, matching Union Jack cushions sat on the black leather sofa, a huge flat screen TV was stuck to the wall, and sitting on a book shelf at the end of the sofa were multiple bodybuilding trophies, shaped like mini muscle men.
Three framed pictures sitting on a shelf above his mantelpiece caught my eye. An old fashioned photo of a married couple I presumed to be his parents, an adorable picture of a black French bulldog looking joyful with his pink tongue flat out and a picture of Liam himself; tanned from head to toe, his whole body a mass of bronzed, shredded, competition conditioned muscle mass, a medal round his neck and a bodybuilding trophy at his feet. And all he was wearing was a pair of bright blue, shiny posing trunks. The very same posing trunks tucked up in my backpack at that precise moment!
My dick juddered as I moved closer to get a better look at shredded Liam, flexing a hand on hips most muscular, an ecstatic grin on his oh-so gorgeous face, every freakishly developed muscle separated my beautiful lines and cuts. And all in those very familiar posing trunks. The hottest blue posing trunks in the world. The trunks I’d sniffed, and rubbed in my face as I wanked myself stupid. The trunks I’d fucking SPUNKED in just six nights before!
“That was my first ever win mate!” I jumped as Liam “The Guns” Watson re-entered the room, and when I spun around to face him, I was met with an image so surreal and unexpected my jaw literally dropped, and my mouth hung open for just a second as I tried to compose myself.
Liam had taken his hoodie off, and now had only a mint green coloured vest partially covering his upper body. His bare shoulders were absolutely fucking ridiculous. Like two bronzed half watermelons bulging either side of his frame.
I could see a lot more of his chest. Huge, thick plates of muscle which stretched out the material of the vest at the bottom (begging to be squeezed, fondled and played with) and spilled out of the material at the top.
And his arms. Jesus fucking CHRIST those arms. Nothing could have prepared me for seeing those in the flesh. The biggest upper arms I’ve ever seen on any human being outside of a bodybuilding competition.
It was like they’d been injected with every fucking steroid and growth hormone on the market and pumped till they were in danger of going pop.
Even relaxed I could see that vein I’d become familiar from his Instagram pictures, snaking down the middle of the left bicep. His forearms were obscenely thick too. Almost twice the size of mine, completely hairless and snaked in outrageous veins.
As he walked towards me and reached out his right arm with a glass of water, freaky striations suddenly erupted underneath the paper thin, gorgeously golden skin of the accompanying shoulder.
I took the water, all the while in a state of shock that I was in the presence of a man so freakishly huge and muscular.
I wondered in that moment if Liam ever played with He-Man action figures as a young lad. And then I wondered just what that lad would have thought if he’d have somehow been shown what an enormous, superhuman muscle bull he’d become as an adult.
“Sorry Oscar! I didn't mean to make you jump,” he said. His mouth curled into a mischievous grin as he said it, and I got the sense that he not only knew that his incredible body was making me nervous, but was also getting a bit of a kick out it.
Whether he had any idea of the other thoughts that were going through my head I wasn’t sure. Or what effect his newly revealed slabs, lumps, bumps and mounds of obscenely developed muscle were having on my crotch.
“Novice class of Mr Brighton 2014,” Liam added, referring to the picture of him on his mantle piece.
“You probably recognise the trunks!” he exclaimed, grinning even more, with those adorable dimples appearing in his cheeks. Meanwhile, I furiously blushed at the mere mention of the item of clothing I’d been obsessing about for the past week.
“It's partly why I was so gutted when I lost them. Sentimental value and all that,” he said, slightly sheepishly, making me want to melt into his Union Jack rug.
I nodded. “I get that!” I replied.
“You must have thought I was a bit of a nutter for putting up that poster!” he said.
I’ve always struggled to conceal my true feelings. I winced slightly and made a, “Hmmmm…” noise, to which Liam just laughed.
“I was a bit desperate mate! I went straight back to the launderette when I realised they were missing. I think I scared the woman working there a bit. Not just cause I was trying to explain to her what a pair of posing trunks looked like, but because, well …” at this point Liam paused, looked down and signalled to his body. The huge, freakishly muscular, competition ready body bulging out of the mint green vest just inches away from me. FUCK!
“The poster idea came to me when I saw a similar one for a missing cat taped to a lamppost a few days earlier. I went back and asked the old dear in the launderette if I could put it up. I think she thought I was well and truly NUTS but let me do it anyway. Probably for fear I was gonna eat her!”
I laughed out loud at this, and Liam grinned.
“I’m guessing it was the first time anyone’s ever put up a poster for a missing pair of posers,” he said, still grinning and looking rather pleased himself. I was getting the impression that Liam rather liked doing things which were not completely of the norm.
“I honestly wasn’t expecting anyone to respond to it! So I was really chuffed when I got your text Oscar! It's not just the fact that I won my first ever show in them. I’m competing on Sunday and they were gonna be my trunks for the finals. To match the hair,” he explained, running his right hand through his outrageously hot, bright blue Mohawk. “It's kind of an ensemble. Blue hair. Blue trunks. To make me standout,” he said, cheekily grinning.
It seemed utterly absurd that a man this huge and gorgeous would need to make any sort of attempt to stand out in a group or crowd.
“Plus, I guess they’re kind of my favourite trunks,” he added, shrugging and looking a little sheepish.
I couldn't help but smile at this. The idea of Liam having a favourite pair of posers was as adorable as his dimples.
He’d stopped talking and there seemed to be something hanging in the air. Liam had an expectant look on his face and the penny suddenly dropped. He was waiting for his posing trunks. Of course he fucking was.
“Oh! Your posers,” I said. The word had left my mouth without any kind of pre-thought. Turning around from Liam to fetch the trunks from my backpack sitting on his sofa, I had no idea whether he noticed that I’d gone bright red with embarrassment. But I was also feeling a rush of adrenaline too. I had never said the word “posers” or “posing trunks” to another person out loud before.
My heart was pounding as I fetched the obscenely shiny, blue trunks out of my bag. An act which enhanced my adrenaline even more. Turning around and nervously handing the posing trunks I’d shot a huge wad of spunk into back to the gorgeous muscle freak standing before me was single handily the most surreal moment of my life up to that point.
“Thanks dude!” Liam said, beaming as he was reunited with his beloved trunks, now dangling in his right hand, in the horniest image. A huge sexy muscle bull reunited with his favourite shiny posers. There was still a part of me which had doubted whether I’d done the right thing in parting ways with the posing trunks I’d come to love so much. But standing in front of Liam in that moment, I realised I’d absolutely made the right decision. I wondered whether it would be completely out of the question to request him to strip, put the posers on and start hitting up some poses in the living room?
“So how come you didn't hand them in?” he asked.
Because I fucking LOVE tiny, shiny, slurp-tastic posing trunks!
"I, ummm … didn't find them until I’d gotten home,” I lied.
“Ahhhh! That makes sense,” Liam said, nodding, and making me feel slightly guilty.
“So, you go to Deano’s?”
The question completely threw me. Why on Earth would he think I go to the most hardcore gym in town? My biceps aren’t THAT good, are they?!
“Erm .... no. I go to Fitness Addicts,” I replied, nervously.
“Oh right. I just assumed,” he said. Liam was looking at my upper arms, which were mostly on show below the sleeve of my t-shirt. An actual bodybuilder was checking out my biceps. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. But I also felt something else. Flattery. Confusion. He actually thought I went to Deano’s Gym. What the fuck?!
“So ... how do you know me?”
This question threw me even more. I was completely and utterly baffled. And then he explained himself, and everything suddenly make sense.
“You used my name in your text message.”
HOLY FUCKING JESUS!!
I wanted the ground to swallow me up. To pause time and run the hell out of Liam's flat. I used his name in my text message! “Hi Liam!” How could I have been so fucking stupid?!
My brain went into panic mode. How WOULD I know Liam? Me, a regular sized, non-bodybuilding guy? How could I explain that I was completely and utterly obsessed with huge, freaky muscle? That I regularly creamed off to pictures and videos of posing trunk sporting muscle bulls on the Internet, just like I did with a picture of him when I stumbled across his profile on Instagram on Saturday night? And that’s when it hit me. An answer for Liam which could just save me.
“I follow you on Instagram,” I hastily said, my voice trembling slightly.
“Oh right!” he replied. The answer seemed good enough for him. “I forget I’m pretty well known on the Internet. So you follow bodybuilding?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, nervously, but fairly confidently. It was the truth after all.
“Awesome!” Liam exclaimed. His eyes went back to my arms, and his next statement made me blush crimson.
“I can see you've got some biceps on you!” he exclaimed with a cheeky grin.
I sheepishly grinned. I couldn’t help it. I don’t know why I said what I did next. Maybe it was the confidence of having a bodybuilder praise the size of my arms.
“The guys I work with actually have a nickname for me.”
“Oh yeah?” Liam asked with one of his eyebrows raised.
I nodded, blushing like crazy and regretting what I’d said, but knowing it was too late to back out of the conversation.
“They call me Mr Biceps!” I said, wincing.
“HAHA!! That's awesome!” Liam exclaimed. “Mr Biceps! I like that. They call me “The Guns”, but you probably know that already,” he said.
I smiled and nodded and my eyes went straight to those upper arms of him. Huge, bronzed, and the size of fucking tree trunks!
It would have been the perfect opportunity for Liam to have lifted those bad boys up, and given me a quick, cheeky, front double bicep pose. Or to lift up one of his forearms, squeeze his fist and flex one of those hard, marble-esque balls of beef. But sadly, he didn’t do either of those things.
Suddenly needing to relieve myself of the water Liam had given me, and also perhaps wanting to prolong my encounter with this gorgeous, cheeky, charming bodybuilder I‘d amazingly found myself in the company of, I asked Liam if I could use his bathroom.
Today was full of moments I’ll never forget and, and being distracted by something on my way to Liam “The Guns” Watson’s bathroom was most certainly one of them. Along with every single thing that followed that night until I eventually left his flat.
With all the doors in Liam’s flat wide open, it wasn’t hard to spot his bathroom. But as I got to the bathroom door, something in the room next to it suddenly caught my eye. Something which made me stop dead in my tracks.
Lying on what was clearly Liam’s bed was a pair of bright pink posing trunks. Not just bright pink, but glittery, sparkly and indecently shiny. FUCK!
I went into the bathroom with my mind completely pre-occupied with the image of those posers. Trying to will my boner to go down so I could take a piss knowing the world's sparkliest pink posers were casually lying on the bed of a beefed up bodybuilder whose house I’d amazingly found myself in, right next door was virtually impossible.
When I’d finally relieved myself, I walked back into the hallway of Liam’s flat, my heart pounding because all I knew I had to do was turn my head towards his bedroom and I’d get to see those gloriously pink posers once again.
I stopped in my tracks, peeked down the hall to check Liam wasn’t coming to find me and turned to his bedroom. Sure enough, there they were. The bright pink posing trunks of Brighton’s hottest bodybuilder. Just as shiny and sparkly as before.
I should have turned around right there and then. Walked back to Liam’s living room, and enjoyed the last of what had been a short but fucking incredible encounter with a real life, gorgeous muscle bull.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop staring at those shiny posers. Just lying there on his bed. Had they been worn earlier that day? Had Liam tried them on and hit a few poses in the mirror, trying to decide if they were coming to the show that weekend, along with the beloved, newly reunited blue posers he’d lost at the launderette the week before.
Maybe he’d just tried them on for fun? Maybe he’d been wearing them earlier that day. Maybe they’d been hiding under his trackies at the gym. Maybe he liked the feel of the shiny material against his ass and dick as he pumped up his enormous muscles and worked himself into a sweat? OH GOD!!
When I think about it now, I actually can’t quite believe what I did next. But I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from those shiny pink posing trunks. I was transfixed. Hypnotised by the pink sparkly material. It was like they were calling me. Beckoning me to go forward. So I did. I put one foot in front of the other, and walked into Liam “The Guns” Watson’s bedroom.
A strong stench hit me as I walked through the doorway. A hot, powerful, masculine odour. Like the bodybuilding version of a teenage boy’s bedroom.
His bed sheets were grey and the walls were painted dark red. I had seen those walls before. On the back wall I could see the familiar poster of “Pumping Iron”. Arnold Schwarzenegger, quite possibly Liam’s hero as a horny, muscle crazed teenager, looking down at a single flexed bicep in black and white.
But now another pair of Liam’s posers had taken over my mind. The shiny, sparkly pink fuckers I was getting closer to with every step I took, until I was standing at the foot of Liam’s double bed, looming over them.
I turned to the door to double check Liam wasn’t there, and nervously picked up the posers. They felt fucking incredible in my fingers. Soft. Smooth. And insanely horny. An image flashed in my mind of stuffing the pink posers in my jeans pocket, silently creeping towards Liam’s front door and running all the way home.
I placed the pink posers back on the bed, trying to position them as they’d been before I picked them up. I turned to leave, when something in an open drawer of Liam’s wardrobe suddenly stopped me dead in my tracks; the bright shiny material of another pair of posing trunks. And not just one! I moved closer to the open drawer, looked down and was met with, quite possibly, the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
Staring back at me was not just one pair of posing trunks. Not even just two. But a whole host of shiny posers. Of every colour conceivable. Orange. Purple. Green. Even gold! All as shiny as the rest.
My heart was pounding and my cock was furiously pulsating as I looked down at the plethora of shiny, colourful material. I had found Liam “The Guns” Watson’s posing trunk collection. And it was the most glorious and downright fucking horny collection you could imagine.
I wanted to shrink myself down to five inches tall and climb inside the drawer. Stand completely surrounded by the shiny, colourful material of a bodybuilder’s posing trunk collection. Run through the shiny fabric completely naked. Bathe in it. Wrap my whole body in it. Feel and smell the posing trunk material all around me. A miniature sized trunk loving muscle addict in a sea of giant, shiny posers.
I nervously looked to Liam’s bedroom door again. It hit me in that moment. Even though I had been nervous, scared even, to phone up Liam and come to his flat. I did it because a deep rooted desire took hold of me and over rode that fear.
And that’s exactly what was happening to me in that moment. I was nervous to be trespassing in Liam’s bedroom, standing over his posing trunk collection lying in his drawer. I knew it was wrong. That I shouldn’t have been there. That I’d never be able to explain myself if he walked in and caught me. But desire had taken over.
The same desire I’d felt when I’d picked up my very first copy of “FLEX” magazine in my local WH Smith when I was fifteen years old and nervously took it to the counter. The same desire burning inside of me when I was stood outside an exhibition centre with a ticket to my first ever bodybuilding show stuffed into my wallet. The same desire which took over me when I was holding Liam’s shiny blue posing trunks in my hand last Saturday night and pulling them up my legs.
And now, that very desire was willing me to reach my hand into the open drawer before me and pull out the unmistakable ruby red posing trunks Liam had been wearing in the Instagram photo I’d creamed off to last weekend.
Somehow, they felt even more incredible than both the blue posers I’d been in possession of for the last week and a half, and the sparkly pink ones I’d been holding just a minute before.
They were unquestionably shinier than both of those pairs too. Liam “The Guns” Watson’s shiniest posing trunks. Dancing in my fingers. Mine, just for those few seconds. To hold. To feel. To worship. To love.
Without any hesitation or thought, I closed my eyes, brought the ruby red posing trunks to my face, pressed the shiny material into my nose and mouth, took a deep inhale of the shiny red fabric and...
To be continued...