MY BODYBUILDER BEST FRIEND
- 4 years ago
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The Bodybuilder - Part 2 free porn video
The Bodybuilder - Part 2
Synopsis: Danny notices additional changes in his body and stops using
steroids but finds that the changes continue.
It's funny, but now when I go out with other kids; it'll probably just
be the bodybuilding guys that I'll hang around with. As I began to bulk
up, the girls' comments were getting to be so dumb, like I'd flex my
biceps and one of the girls would be like: "Oooh. That looks so big. Can
I touch it, please?" So I'd tell her that she could touch it and she'd
stretch out her hand and touch it and say something like: "Oooh. It
feels really hard. You must be really strong." And she'd giggle a
little. Give me a break.
The ABA, the Amateur Bodybuilding Association - the group that sponsors
the contests that I compete in - recently relaxed some of the rules for
the competitions. Previously there had been fairly tight requirements
for the posing outfits but now almost anything is allowed - well, I'm
guessing that complete nudity is out. Anyway, Dad replaced my posing
briefs with posing G-strings. Man, the first time he showed me one of
the G-strings, I was, like, "You're crazy! I can wear that in public.
It's like being naked!" The G-string was just this little piece of
fabric that covered me up in front, soft of, and a string that went
around my waist and another string that went between my legs and up to
join the string around my waist. From the back it was, like, I was
TOTALLY exposed! But Dad insisted that I wear it to improve my
competitoon scores so I reluctantly went along with him. The first time
I put it on (at home, of course) it felt so weird to have my rear end
exposed, and, like, I could feel this breeze on my rear end, but after
wearing it around the house for a couple of days I got used to it. The
first competition I wore it to I was really nervous and kind of
embarrassed about walking out on the stage wearing only a G-string, but
a couple of the other guys were wearing things almost as revealing. And
then after that, I got to like wearing it and showing off as much of my
body as possible.
I walked past Romey in the hall at school today and he looked like,
well, like a little different. It took me a couple of minutes to figure
out what was different about him and then I realized that it looked like
he was wearing some eye shadow and lip gloss.
So, mostly it will be us guys hanging around the mall - which is OK with
me. And we can be talking about serious stuff like supplements, and
which training routines are better than others, and our body
measurements, and how much weight we've gained - stuff like that. Since
we're getting our bodies to look better and better these days we figured
why not show them off. There's a store called "Rhino Wear" in the mall
that sells clothing aimed at bodybuilders and we'll usually get our
stuff there. The usual "uniform of the day" is a pair of Lycra mini
shorts, a pair of sandals, and either a muscle tank or a tight T-shirt.
I'll usually stuff a pair of socks or a washcloth or something down into
my mini shorts to fill them out and make it look like I've got a good
sized "package" down there. The only thing that annoys me is that some
of the guys aren't content with letting their muscles show how powerful
they are - they have to show off in other ways. There are a couple of
the guys that think that it's cool not to bathe too often and to never
use a deodorant. Well, they're certainly "strong," but not in a way that
I like.
I guess smoking pot kind of sneaks up on you. I had just been doing it
on the weekends with my friends but after awhile I'd smoke an occasional
joint at home. Lately I've been having a joint or two almost every day.
I'll finish my workout session in the afternoon, and then shower and
clean up, and then have a joint and relax before supper. And then I may
knock off another one before I go to bed. I mean, the stuff is so cheap,
and it makes you feel so relaxed and great, what's the problem?
I've started wearing my posing G-strings all the time in place of the
briefs that I had been wearing. It kind of feels, well, "sexy" to be
wearing the tiny G-string and feeling my exposed rear end rubbing
against my jeans.
One thing that I've noticed recently is that my nipples have gotten,
like, well, sort of larger and puffy. They used to be just sort of flat
and a tan color. But over the past couple of months they've changed to
the point where they're now almost two inches across, and they puff out
over an inch, and they're a light shade of pink. Obviously not the kind
of thing that wins you points in a competition. But to solve the
problem, my Dad got this kind of ointment called "PreparationH" that I
can apply to my nipples several times before a competition and they'll
shrink down to a normal size. Several hours after the competition they
will have swelled back to their larger size but by then the competition
will be over with, I'll be wearing a loose sweatshirt, and nobody will
notice.
Well, I was a little embarrassed by them at the mall yesterday. It was
pretty warm out so I was just wearing a pair of sandals, a pair of
cutoff shorts, and a tight black mesh tank top. I knew the tank top was
pretty tight when I pulled it on but didn't think anything about it at
the time. But as I was walking through the mall I noticed folks staring
at me occasionally. I looked down and saw that my nipples were
protruding through the mesh top. So there I was with this black mesh
top, but with two large pink nipples poking through it. Won't wear that
top again!
The bench press routines that I've been doing have really helped me to
develop my pectoral muscles. But as I was examining myself in the mirror
this morning I noticed something funny. Well, not funny as in "Ha Ha"
but funny as in "curious." When I had first started to build up my
pectorals they just, like, got bigger and stuck out more from my chest.
And my nipples were toward the bottom but were pointing outward from my
chest. But as my pecs have continued to develop, they've rounded out
more and have started to roll over a little on my chest. That is, you
can see a definite crease under each pec where it rolls down on my chest
by a half inch or so. And my nipples are now on the bottom of them,
pointing down at the floor. My nipples are still big and puffy and a
pink color, but since they're way down on the bottom of my pecs instead
of pointing out the front, they're not as noticeable as they were before
and I find that I don't have to worry about hiding them as much. The
other thing about my nipples is that they're really sensitive these days
so when I masturbate I just play with my nipples now, ignoring my dick
and rolling my nipples between my fingers and tweaking and tugging on
them. Man, does that feel great!
My seventeenth birthday party - what a milestone - and what a wipeout.
My buddies threw a real party for me on Saturday night. Frankly, after
about eleven o'clock at night I was pretty much out of it, what with the
booze and pot they were shoving at me. The next thing I remember was
lying in my bed, sometime on Sunday, and feeling the room spin around
me. I think that sometime in the night I had barfed as there was this
shitty-looking mess on my pillow and the smell of it got my stomach
heaving again and I just barely made it to the bathroom this time. So I
spent the rest of the day just lying in bed and wishing that I could
just die and get it over with.
By Monday morning I felt better - not great - but good enough that I
could get out of bed and move around without having to worry about
barfing. I figured that I'd better clean up so I gingerly got in the
shower and started rinsing off the barf and sweat and piss and shit. I
was washing off my stomach when I felt a sudden soreness. I looked down
and found that my navel was all red and swollen and irritated-looking,
or at least the skin around it was. I took another look, and OH SHIT, I
had a tattoo! Those bastards, they must have gotten me the tattoo when I
was too drunk to know what was going on. It was like, maybe four inches
across and looked like a sun with red and orange flames shooting out of
it, centered on my navel. After I got out of the shower I put some
ointment on it to soothe the irritation and hoped that Dad wouldn't be
too pissed. No luck, he was fucking livid! Screamed at me for what
seemed like hours. But in the end there was nothing that either of us
could do. We figured that I'd lose some competition points because of
it, but hoped that my strong physique would make up for it.
When I finally felt well enough to go to school on Wednesday, everyone
at school had heard how I had gotten "wasted" that weekend and had ended
up with a tattoo. Just to piss them off, I'd worn a long top and kept my
shorts pulled up so that it was completely covered. But at the next
competition, it was on display for everyone to see. I guess I lost some
points because of it but still came in first place.
I think that I may have added enough muscle mass that I can cut back on
the pills. I've added almost another twenty five pounds and my weight is
just below two hundred now. My neck is now as thick as my head, my
thighs are very muscular, my abdomen has these really well-defined abs,
my pectorals stand out a good three inches from my chest, and my biceps
are really huge. When I've been working out the veins covering my
muscles swell up with the blood pumping through them and I really look
great. I was hanging around with the guys at the mall last night and one
of them commented that I was getting to look pretty good. I'd put on a
really tight T-shirt that afternoon so I just turned and looked at the
guy for a second, then flexed my back muscles and split the T-shirt
right down the sides. "Oh, I hadn't noticed," I said and that broke
everybody up. I just wore the tattered T-shirt around the mall the rest
of the evening. And whenever I caught someone looking at me I'd flex my
muscles a little to give them a good view of my development. Neat!
At the last couple of competitions that I've been in, I've walked away
with first place and I've definitely become the guy to beat. Some of the
guys that I've been competing against have been hinting that nobody
could add that much muscle mass that fast - without some help. But screw
'em - they could take 'roids too if they really wanted to compete. Dad's
been posting lots of pictures of me and my trophies on his web site and
he's been getting feedback from bodybuilders all over the world about
how great I look. We've been talking about maybe participating in some
international competitions.
The thing that bothers me though is that my dick and balls haven't
regained their original size. To look at me with my huge muscular
development, you'd think that I have to be hung like a horse -
especially with all the padding in my posing briefs. But my dick is
still this little one inch thing and you can't find my balls at all
anymore. So I decided to quit using the 'roids - completely. Turns out
I'd just emptied the most recent jar of the pills and I told Dad not to
buy anymore.
Well, stopping the 'roids did take some getting used to. I've still got
the huge muscle mass but I've seemed to lose a lot of my energy. While I
was taking the drugs I'd get really pumped up and want the workout
sessions to go on forever and ever. Lately I'm pretty wiped out after
only an hour of exercising. One thing that hasn't changed is my
appetite. The 'roids had given me an enormous appetite and I still want
to eat everything in sight. But I've got to watch that or I'm afraid
that I'll start gaining weight - and I'm afraid that it won't all be
muscle!
Gosh, Romey is looking more and more "girlie" every day. His hair is
longer now and he's parting it so that it sweeps down over the left side
of his face and partly covers up his left eye. And he's started wearing
these shirts that are so short that they expose his navel and you can
see that it's been pierced and he's wearing a silver heart studded with
some jewels in it. He was trying to strike up a conversation with me at
school today and I noticed that he was talking with a noticeable lisp.
Damn, I was afraid that was going to happen - it's been about three
months since I stopped taking the drugs and I've gained some weight.
Well, like, "some" is actually a pretty good sized weight gain. I've
bloated up to just under two thirty these days. Now, I don't have this
huge gut or anything. I've still got the muscles but they're hidden
under an inch or so of fat. You can tell that I've got these huge
muscles by looking at me, but now my body looks smoother and a bit
softer with its layer of fat. My loss of definition was killing me in
the competitions so I quit competing about a month ago - till I can get
my weight back under control.
Plus, I've packed on some weight in an embarrassing location! I used to
have these huge muscular pectorals on my chest but now each pec has
gotten covered up by a thick layer of fat. Each one is about the size of
a large cantaloupe and they hang down an inch or two on my chest. I was
looking at them in the mirror the other day as I was toweling myself off
after taking a shower in the morning. I cupped one in my hand and was
surprised by its warmth and softness
A couple of weeks later the guys at school were kidding me about my
"developments."
"Developments?" I asked.
"Yeah," one of my friends replied, "don't you know what your chest looks
like when you're walking down the hall?"
I realized that you could clearly see my big floppy pecs bouncing up and
down and swinging back and forth through the thin fabric of my tank top
as I walked along - that was pretty embarrassing. After school I went
over to the mall and bought several workout tops. I picked out ones that
were black and made of thick cotton - and that were several sizes too
large. They're so big and floppy that they completely hide the shape of
my upper body.
Even though I was embarrassed when the guys were kidding me about the
size of my pecs, I had to admit that I kind of liked the way they felt -
with their weight hanging on my chest, and the way they bounce and swing
back and forth as I move around. I can't really explain it but the
feeling of them on my chest is, well, uh, kinda "sexy" in a way.
After the ribbing I took from some of my friends about the way my chest
has developed, I haven't been hanging around with them as much. Whenever
I was with them I was always trying to hide the shape of my chest and I
could see that they were glancing at me and I could guess what they were
thinking about, so I gradually stopped hanging around with them at
school or meeting them at the mall or places like that.
I was afraid that Dad would be upset when I dropped out of the
competitions, but surprisingly enough he didn't say much about it. Well,
he did kid me once by chuckling and saying, "Well 'juggs', looks like
you're developing a pretty good chest there."
"Yeah? Thanks a lot Dad," I replied as I blushed.
Guess one good thing about the big soft pecs that I've developed is that
they're, uh, sure fun to play with! When no one else is around I'll
usually have one of my hands up on my chest, tracing around one of my
nipples with my fingers, or just massaging and stroking one of my pecs.
The sensations as I play with them are way more intense then when I play
with my tiny dick and it doesn't usually take too long before I'll come
and shoot my wad into my shorts - well, really just dribble a little
liquid into my shorts, dampening the crotch. We were sitting at the
supper table the other day and I noticed that Dad was looking over at
me. I blushed as I realized that I'd been playing with one of my pecs
with my left hand while my right hand shoveled food into my mouth. Dad
just smiled and said, "That's okay champ. If it feels good, do it."
Since I'm not competing any more, I did something last week that I had
wanted to do for awhile - got another tattoo. Went to a local tattoo
parlor and after I looked around for awhile, I picked out a tribal
tattoo - you know, the kind that has these big black geometric designs
and swirls. Anyway, it pretty much covers my right pec. Looks pretty
good, I think. But it was kinda funny when I was getting the tattoo.
Like, the guy who was doing it was sitting across from me and he was
supporting my right pec in his left hand while he used his right hand to
apply the tattoo. As he was tattooing me, he was kind of massaging my
pec - guess it was to get the positioned right for the artwork and to
get the skin tightened up so the artwork would come out right - but it
felt kinda weird to have him "playing" with my pec like that and I was
getting pretty turned on and pretty soon my G-string was all wet. Like,
it feels good when I'm home and I masturbate by playing with my pecs,
but when the guy at the tattoo parlor was touching and massaging them it
felt REALLY good.
(To Be Continued)
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