Thursday, 15 February 2018

MUSCLE FICTION STORY: HAVE YOU SEEN THESE POSING TRUNKS? (PART 5)

"I wanted to pause time. To stay in that moment for as long as I wanted. To stand there staring at the image of this mighty flexing muscle bull before me. To marvel at the sheer hugeness of the bronze painted balls of muscle bulging off each of his upper arms. To study the vein (that glorious fucking vein) running down the middle of the right bicep. To let him overwhelm me with his display of pure power and hyper masculinity."

Ok guys, here goes with the penultimate part of "Have You Seen These Posing Trunks?"

Part four saw Oscar turning up at the flat of local competitive bodybuilder Liam "The Guns" Watson to give him back his missing posing trunks. On his way to use the bathroom, Oscar spotted something in Liam's bedroom; a pair of sparkly pink posers lying on his bed. Venturing inside to take a closer look, Oscar then came upon something else; Liam's posing trunk collection lying in an open drawer!

After marvelling at the trunks of every conceivable colour, Oscar pulled out a pair of super shiny, ruby red trunks he recognised from a picture on Liam's Instagram profile. Picking up the posers, Oscar then bought them to his face, but as he took a deep inhale of the shiny trunk material, he realised he wasn't alone...


“OSCAR?!”

OH FUUUUUCCCKKK!!

Everything in that moment seemed to happen in slow motion. A sudden, intense panic took over. I jumped, threw the trunks back in the drawer and turned to find Liam “The Guns" Watson in his mint green vest, and all two hundred plus pounds of his insanely huge muscle filling up his bedroom doorframe. A look of utter confusion sat on his achingly gorgeous face.

“Were you ... sniffing my posers?!”

OH GOD. This can’t be happening. This can NOT be happening.

“NO!” I cried, instinctively. But as soon as I said it, I knew it was ridiculous. He’d caught me red fucking handed.

I sighed. “I mean ... yes!” I confessed, completely surprising myself.

Liam was still looking confused. “Why?!” he asked. He didn’t seem angry. More just baffled.

My brain went into overdrive as I tried to think of a conceivable explanation as to why I was standing uninvited in a bodybuilder’s bedroom sniffing a pair of his posing trunks. But there wasn’t one. There was only one possible explanation. Only one thing to do. I had to tell Liam the truth.

I winced, closed my eyes, scared of what I was about to say, but knowing I had to say it anyway, and then just blurted it out.

“Because I love posing trunks!”

I opened my eyes, a strange relief coming over me.

“You ... love posing trunks?” Liam repeated, his eyebrows furrowed.

I nodded, feeling sheepish and nervous, but also strangely elated.

“I guess ... I sort of have a thing for them?!”

“Huh!” Liam replied. “What kind of a thing?” he asked, folding his huge arms across his chest so they bulged and popped to an outrageous degree (FUCK)!

He was still confused, but it didn’t seem like he was judging me. More than anything, he just seemed curious.

“Ummmm…” I began, not really knowing how to explain. “I guess, like, how some people are into ... sexy underwear?”

Sexy underwear they wanna wear under their jeans to Tesco. Sexy underwear they wanna sit in at home and spunk a huge creamy load into while watching a bodybuilder blowing up his nickname earning biceps on their laptops! SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT!

“Oh right!” he exclaimed. “So it’s like ... a fetish?”

“I guess,” I sheepishly said, feeling my cheeks begin to flush. It’s funny, because I’ve never really thought of my love for shiny posers as being a fetish, but I guess that was probably the easiest way for Liam to have understood it.

“Are other people into this?” he asked.

“Yeah! I mean, it’s pretty rare. But yeah … there are others,” I replied, thinking about the fellow trunk lovers I’d spoken to on muscle blogs, via email, and on Twitter, who go just as bonkers over a pair of shiny colourful, glute hugging trunks as I do.

“What is it about them?!”

Oh God.

“Erm … I dunno. The shape. The look. The material. Everything really!” I explained, surprising myself at how honest and detailed I was being.

The whole situation was incredible surreal. I couldn’t quite believe what was happening. I’d just been caught sniffing a pair of posing trunks by the very bodybuilder who owned them and now I was confessing that they turned me on. I was scared, nervous, aroused and excited. All at fucking once.

And then Liam said something which invoked another emotion; complete and utter surprise.

“Huh!” he began, still with his obscenely huge arms folded across his chest; the veins popping through the hairless, bronzed tinted skin struggling to contain the pure mass it was covering.

“Well, mate, this is a new one on me, but ... I think I kinda get it!”

What. The. FUUUUUCCCKKK!!

I was gob smacked. Completely and utterly speechless. What the fuck was going on?!

“I mean ... I’m not into them the same way you are, “ Liam explained. “But I do love my posing trunks. I mean … you can probably see that for yourself.” As he said this he gestured to the still open drawer containing his posing trunk collection.

“There’s definitely something about them,” he confessed. “I usually just wear them for when I’m posting pictures on the Internet. And for competitions obviously. But sometimes ... I think about wearing them just for fun.”

OH MY FUCKING GOD!!

“I don't really know why”, Liam continued. “It’s kind of like an urge. Instead of wearing boxers, I sometimes think about just popping some shiny trunks on and going down to the shops with them on under my jeans …”

PANT PANT FUCKING PANT!!

“Is that mad?!” he asked, grinning slightly.

“Ummmm …” I replied, wanting to tell him that actually YES - it was a tiny bit bonkers. But also just about the sexiest thing he could have possibly fucking said to me.

“Wow! So you must have thought you’d struck gold when you found my trunks in your washing?" he asked, with a cheeky smile.

My cheeks suddenly reddened but I couldn’t help but smirk back. “Ummm ... kinda,” I replied, feeling like a giddy teenager in the presence of a boy he had a secret crush on.

“So ... I gotta ask. Why d’ya give ‘em back?”

Ooooh … errrmm, I dunno. To meet the huge, gorgeous muscle bull who’d made me spunk something fucking rotten (IN his own fucking posers) by blowing up his ginormous guns for the camera.

“It kinda just felt like the right thing to do,” I lied.

Liam’s mouth curled into an adorable grin, and when I saw those cute little dimples emerge on his cheeks, I felt a stab of guilt that I hadn’t been completely honest with him.

I decided to balance this out by telling him a truth. It was probably good that this was said so hastily in my attempt to ease my conscious, because if I’d have thought it through before hand, I probably wouldn’t have said it.

“Plus ... I guess I just wanted to meet you,” I said, blushing furiously.

“Ahhhh. Mate!” Liam replied bashfully, but smirking in a way that one does when they’ve just been thrown a compliment.

“You know, that’s one part of being well known on the bodybuilding scene that I can’t get used to,” Liam began. “People that I don’t know wanting to meet me. Talk to me even. It’s happening more and more since I started “The Guns” nickname. I mean, it’s awesome. And flattering. But ... I’m just a lad who likes to lift things …”

Liam “The Guns” Watson - marry me NOW!

 “… and stomp around stages in shiny, tiny posers, obviously,” he added, grinning.

Hold that thought. I’m just gonna spunk in my boxers first. FUCKING HELL!!

“So, I take it you have your own posing trunk collection?” Liam asked.

I couldn’t help but smirk at this. Just the fact that a bodybuilder was asking me if I owned posing trunks in such a casual manner was both absurd, and fucking incredible.

“Erm … no actually!” I replied. “I don't even have one pair!”

“Why not?” Liam asked.

“I dunno!” I was still smirking, trying to wonder whether I was actually having this conversation, or whether someone was about to come along and pinch me to wake me up. “I guess I’ve always been worried I’ll look a little silly in them,” I replied, honestly.

“You could definitely pull them off!” he exclaimed. I grinned even more as Liam’s eyes, once again, focused on my upper arms.

Of all the things that had happened at Liam’s flat up until that moment, nothing was as surprising as what the gorgeous muscle bull in front of me did next.

He looked at his open drawer, which contained what had to be one of the hottest and most impressive collection of posers in the country, if not the fucking world.

His eyes then fell on me again, and he seemed to contemplating something. Battling with himself, even, over whether he should say what he was thinking.

He then shook his head to himself and firmly said, “Fuck it! Take ‘em!”

Completely confused, I stood there looking at Liam. He signalled to the open drawer.

“Take the red trunks.”

Ermm. Huh! WHAT?!!

“I owe you one for bringing my special blue trunks back. So you can have the red ones. I probably have way too many pairs anyway.”

What. The. Actual. Fuckety. Fucking. FUCK?!

I was dumbfounded. Not only had Liam been unbelievably cool and calm with the fact that he’d not only caught me in his bedroom uninvited, but with a pair of his posers shoved in my face, not to mention my confession that I secretly got the horn for shiny posers, but he was now actually gifting me said posing trunks. Right there in that moment, looking at the insanely gorgeous muscle freak before me, tanned and bulging out of his mint green vest while his outrageously hot Mohawk sat on his insanely hot head, I swear, diary, I actually fell a little bit in love with him.

“Are you sure?” I tentatively asked, hoping and praying that the answer would be “YES.”

“Take ‘em before I change my mind,” he replied.

I reached in the drawer and my cock juddered as I was, once again, instantly met with the soft, shiny fabric of posers, and pulled out the bright red ruby trunks.

I blushed furiously as I awkwardly stood there with my brand new gifted posers clutched in my right hand.

Liam was mischievously grinning at me. It seemed as if he was enjoying seeing me squirm. “I reckon those bad boys’ll suit you!” he said.

I goofily grinned and just stood, red faced, letting him tease me for his own enjoyment. Letting him do whatever the FUCK he wants to me.

“Well, thanks again for bringing my trunks back to me, mate! And I hope, ummmm ... I lived up to the bodybuilder on the Instagram profile?” he said, slightly bashfully.

“God yeah!” I enthusiastically replied, without hesitation.

Liam chuckled. “I hope “The Guns” lived up to it too!” he added, with a devilish grin.

“Definitely!” I replied, feeding his ego.

With the surrealism of enjoying friendly banter with a bodybuilder about the size of his biceps, I suddenly felt a surge of confidence. I didn’t think there was anything he could have said, or done, to make me blush even more at that point, so I reasoned I had nothing left to lose.

“I loved that front double bicep shot you posted last weekend!” I said.

“Oh yeah?” Liam replied. “That was a popular one!”

And then, with one swift movement, Liam instructing me take his ruby red posing trunks suddenly wasn’t the greatest moment of our encounter.

Lifting both of his arms up, Liam was suddenly flexing his enormous, nickname earning guns in a front double bicep pose. His face was scrunched up, and his mouth wide open in the exact same arrogant expression he’d worn in the picture I’d shot a massive load to the Saturday before. Only this time, I wasn’t looking at a picture on the Internet. This time the scene was happening right before my eyes, in Liam “The Guns” Watson’s bedroom, just a mere few feet from where I stood.

I wanted to pause time. To stay in that moment for as long as I wanted. To stand there staring at the image of this mighty flexing muscle bull before me. To marvel at the sheer hugeness of the bronze painted balls of muscle bulging off each of his upper arms. To study the vein (that glorious fucking vein) running down the middle of the right bicep. To let him overwhelm me with his display of pure power and hyper masculinity.

“FUCK!” I cried in response.

When Liam relaxed, he instantly started laughing. His face beaming, he was clearly on some kind of incredible high from being a muscle freak, two days out from his next bodybuilding show, flexing and showing off his enormous muscles for an audience. Any audience - even near strangers who he’d just caught sniffing his posing trunks.

“Just as impressive in person?” Liam asked.

“YEAH!!” I exclaimed in response. The rush of seeing Liam flexing in the flesh seemed to diminish any leftover nerves and shyness. “Unbelievable mate!”

Still proudly grinning, Liam then bought his fists together and outrageously squeezed a quick most muscular pose, accompanied by a deep, playful, and unspeakably hot grunt. “EURGH!!”

The plates of pec muscle underneath his vest squeezed together. His enormous triceps erupted like crazy. His upper body just a mass of solid, bunched up, beautifully carved muscle.

It barely lasted two seconds, but just like the moment Liam first opened his front door, just like when he’d walked into his living room with his muscle bulging out of his mint green vest, and just like when he’d flexed his monstrous biceps in front of me, I was positive the scene would forever be imprinted on my memory.

“Fucking HELL!!” I exclaimed, inhibitions almost completely gone.

And then, the unthinkable happened. Liam flexed again! Bending forward slightly, he cranked out a brutal, power packed, crab most muscular; his teeth gritted and his nose scrunched in brilliantly animated fashion.

His watermelon-like delts filled up my view. Enormous, round boulders of gorgeously bronzed muscle. His biceps had never looked bigger, or more beautiful. Balls of inhuman muscle, squeezed and popped to an absurd degree. And, out of nowhere, two thick mounds of trap muscle erupted either side of his neck like two vicious little creatures about to pounce on their prey (let it be me, please let it be me), stretching the mint green cotton material of the straps of his vest. 

I wanted to lick those traps. Feel the solid muscle and paper thin skin underneath my tongue. Work my mouth down until I was kissing his enormous delts. Taste the tan, sweat and mass of a roided up muscle God who’d pushed his body to unspeakable limits. I wanted to suck on his biceps. Feel that throbbing vein against my tongue. The more Liam would squeeze, the harder his bicep would become and the more the vein would throb, the harder I would suck and the closer my dick would get to exploding with cum.

When Liam straightened up he was still beaming proudly, but there was an ever so slight bashfulness there too. He held his fist out for me to bump in a bro-ish manner. I obviously obliged, wondering whether even a simple touch of his knuckles against mine would increase my arousal (it did, fucking HELL it did).

“Always fun posing for an appreciative muscle fan!”

I wanted to ask for more. I wanted to watch Liam hit a whole host of poses. See his lats spread out like wings, and his tits jump up to his chin as he blasted out a front lat spread. Watch his thick pec explode off his chest, and his right bicep bulge as he treated me to a side chest pose. I wanted him to whip off his vest so I could watch his block-like tummy muscles crunch and burst through his gorgeous skin as he squeezed out an abs and thighs pose. And I wanted more of those power packed, trap erupting most musculars. A whole fucking volley of them. One after the other.

And while Liam flexed, posed, crunched and scrunched, I wanted to explore every single one of his obscenely developed body parts with my hands. Squeeze every mound of muscle. Feel every lump and bump. To do the thing I’ve wanted to do since opening my very first copy of “FLEX” magazine; worship a real life, competition conditioned muscle monster. I want it. I need it. I have to fucking have it.

“Thanks again for coming round, Oscar,” Liam said.

I was suddenly snapped back to reality. “No worries,” I feebly said. “Thanks for the er… trunks,” I said, blushing at the reference to the inexplicably shiny red posers I was probably going to blow a massive load into as soon as I got home.

He grinned in response. The most gorgeous, dimple revealing grin. I was gonna miss those dimples. “No problem, mate!” Liam said chirpily. “Glad to be able to repay you for giving me back the others,” he said, referring to the sentimental trunks he’d not long been reunited with.

Liam turned to walk out of his bedroom door, and I took a step to follow, but something was suddenly bursting to get out of me.

I’d been brave enough to contact Liam. To come to his flat. To give him back the missing posers I’d found, obsessed about, developed a crazy obsession with, and finally creamed into.

I’d been brave enough to wander into his bedroom uninvited. To check out the sparkly pink posing trunks lying on his bed. To reach into the drawer full of posing trunks. To pull one out and take a big whiff of the material.

I’d been brave enough to admit to Liam that I had a fetish for shiny posers. But it wasn’t enough. There was something else I needed to do before I left Liam’s flat. Something that would take just one last ounce of bravery.

I want it. I need it. I have to fucking have it.

“WAIT!”

To be continued...

6 comments:

  1. "I want it. I need it. I have to fucking have it." Yes! Yes! Yes! This is what being a muscle addict is all about, and this could be the slogan for all muscle worshipers. I can't wait to learn what happens when Oscar tells Liam why he's so totally into those tiny, shiny posers. Great job! Keep it (and us) cumming!

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    1. Glad you're still enjoying it matie! :)

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  2. This story is so damn hot. the tension!

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  3. Fuuuuuuccccckkkkk, I’m going to blow a load of spunk after reading that...talk about tension. What’s going to happen next I can only imagine...
    What I love more is to know that my personal fetish is not solely mine but shared by others who worship these god-like men. Thinking about the collection of posers I have yet never wear....even though I work out, get tan, just can’t bring myself to open my special drawer full of tight, shiny, sparkly unworn posers...but I LOVE my special collection.
    I also love to discover someone new almost every day...take a look at video of Jean Francois Ballester in a mixed posing routine from December 2017 available on YouTube. This guy in pink sparkle posers is my guilty pleasure of the day...

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  4. Mmm? "Like 2 vicious little animals about to punce" love the analogy mate ;-)

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  5. Haven't been here for awhile! Great story - and as I share the posing trunks fetish big time - inspirational!

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