Saturday, 18 April 2015
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This work of fiction is free to be distributed in the public domain provided the original author and paragraph above is included.
No matter how hard I tried, I’d reached a plateau in my training. Spending some time working with a personal trainer in my gym had helped, but I was just feeling like I wasn’t growing any more. Hitting the gym almost daily I’d made gains, and I was watching my diet; but I just needed something to take me to the next level. Getting to know the same faces at the gym provided encouragement, and everyone had their own opinion. Faces had come and gone, and that’s where I noticed him first.
Standing what must have been six four, a good few inches over my six foot frame, I guessed he’d joined the gym a few months ago. Perhaps not what you’d call pretty, perhaps early 50s, a square jawed face, well weathered by life’s experience. His massive neck widened to a broad back, which looked like it had great definition in the traps and lats, then narrowed down to his waist and then what looked like an impressive set of hams and quads.
He looked tough; someone you wouldn’t want to mess with, and always have on your side. He worked hard too. He always worked out in cotton sweats or nylon trackies, and a t shirt. Sometimes I wish he’d worn shorts or a muscle vest as I’d have liked to have got a better look. I reckoned his chest must have been at least 52 inch, with some great definition in his biceps and forearms.
We’d had little interaction other than a nod to each other of acknowledgement as we passed each other on the way in or out of the changing rooms. In my head I just called him “Muscles”... it just seemed appropriate. Mostly he seemed to be training and finishing up as I arrived at the gym.
I was up to 100kgs which isn’t a bad weight for someone who’s six feet tall. My calves and hams were well developed – I never seemed to have any problems in training my legs. It was the chest, back and abs which were really the problem areas, along with my biceps and triceps. Lat pulldowns galore, so my shoulders were okay, but just couldn’t get my chest above 46”.
I’d finished my leg workout for the day, and returning to the changing rooms, I was completely spent. Sitting on a bench and trying to get my breath back, one of the other guys who trained regularly there was getting ready to head out, and we passed our normal pleasantries. John and I got on to talking about a new protein powder company which was doing some good mail order deals, and then on to back and abs training.
With just two of us in the changing rooms, who should walk in but “Muscles” himself. I acknowledged him with a nod and a smile, and continued my conversation with John about training. John had his own suggestions about arm training, and I was interested in his opinion. John had good bicep and triceps definition; and great genetics.
Stripping down to my black jock, I’d recovered enough to hit the showers, and John headed out. My changing bench gave me a good view of “Muscles” from behind, and I finally got the opportunity to check out the torso without coverings. Already in his nylon trackies, he was bent over looking for something in his kit bag. Shirtless, his back was every bit as impressive as I’d hoped it might be. I wondered if I’d ever be able to duplicate the definition he had, even if I did the same training. In the bright light of the changing rooms, I could admire his musculature, and also he was nicer eye candy than I expected.
Turning round, he caught me looking.
“You train hard, you’re here all the time”. Wow, ‘it’ speaks after all.
“Aye boss, if only I could work on my torso a bit more”. It just felt like “boss” rather than “buddy” or “mate” was somehow more appropriate.
“Well, you’re looking good now, but better with some more chest definition”. A compliment. I think I must have blushed it coming from someone so big.
“Abs, back and arms are my weakness areas, no matter how hard I try”.
He might just have been looking at my abs, but you know, I swear he looked at my jock.
“If you ever want some special training, then let me know”. He said and raised an eyebrow.
Was that a come on? Nah, probably not; but I figured any exposure to the guy and his training methods was going to be a good thing. The fact that I would have happily eaten dinner off his abs was just an extra bonus.
“Anytime boss, I’d like that”. I knew it would unlikely amount to anything anyway – it was just one of those things which is said and not really meant.
“I’m only a member here for a while as I’m equipping my own training room at home. Come round Sat afternoon I’ll show you the ropes”. It was Thursday night so that was plenty of time for recovery, and my Saturday was free.
“Sure, boss. Thanks”. We exchanged numbers, and he told me where he lived. It wasn’t too far from the gym it seemed.
Saturday morning arrived, and out of common courtesy, I sent a text message to the number he’d given me, just to test the water and see if the offer had indeed been genuine.
“Hi boss, happy for your training tips if you still have some time this afternoon. Thanks”
Less than five minutes passed before a response arrived.
“Still free to train you. 3pm?”
“3pm fine. Will see you then”. It was 1pm. Donning a black jock, my trackies and a vest, I downed a protein shake and was ready to go with time to kill. Mapping reported 20 minutes from home to his place. It couldn’t show me the exact location; but close enough to find my way from there.
Looking forward to a good hard session, I left in good time and headed to the address he’d given me. There was a row of normal looking semi detached houses, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find the number he’d given me. Running through my head that I’d been taken a ride, I texted him, suspecting I might not receive a response.
“Look for 33, follow farm road behind and just keep driving about half a mile.” Aha, that might explain it – it’s off the road. Driving along the well maintained concrete track, I came close to some farm buildings, and a large house as he’d described.
My phone beeped, a text message “barn”
At the opposite side of a concreted yard area stood the barn. I grabbed my gym bag and headed towards the open door. Inside it was a breeze blocked entrance corridor with a number of doors off.
“In here” came a familiar voice from another door straight ahead. Following the voice, the other door lead to a large high ceiling and what looked like fully equipped gym area, with plenty of machines, free weights and floor space. “Muscles” certainly took his training seriously if this was anything to go by.
There he was, all six four of him. Shirtless, in a pair of MMA style tight shorts, he looked huge, and suddenly very very handsome.
“Hi. Nice to see you. Right; let’s see what we’ve got to work with then and see what you’re capable of. Just down to your jock so I can take a better look”. It wasn’t a strange request; he was massive; knew his stuff; and wanted to see the areas which needed improvement. The only problem was my thinking about how good his shorts looked had made my jock tighter than before to say the least. Worst still; I enjoyed his direct, naturally dominant approach; and just felt the need to please him.
My vest came off, followed by my shoes and trackies, so I was just down to my jock. I’d succeeded a little in not quite being so obvious by thinking of every female politician I could remember. He stood behind me, running his hands across my neck and back, across my shoulders and then indicated for me to lift my arm to the side.
“We certainly need some more work there; but that’s at least easy to train”.
Tracing my pecs, chest, and down to my abs, there was a disapproving frown.
“Let’s see if we can’t work those to exhaustion today”
I was concentrating on how big I was going to look, and not the fact that he had his hands all over me.
“So should we start your training in something a little more suitable from your Recon profile then?” If there was any ambiguity previously, there definitely wasn’t now. He ran his hands along the band of my jock and down my butt cheeks. I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. Instant hard on. Seems perhaps I was going to get to taste those shorts after all.
“Yes thank you SIR”.
With one hand, he pulled down on my jock, and my 8 cut inches sprang to attention.
“You’re gonna be my little toy tonight boy. Now, out and into the first door on the left and put on the suit I’ve laid out for you”