Summer 3
by BBMSN
On the way to Val's, I passed by a new World Gym on Market Avenue. When the hell did they put that up? Hadn't been there when I came home for winter break. The place was huge. I did a U-turn and pulled into the parking lot. I ran inside to sign up for the summer, and it turned out they had just recently opened, and were still hiring. The manager was big, not as big as me, but looked tough and hardened in his tight tank top. He had a USMC tat on his shoulder. He took one look at me and asked me if I needed a job, that I was the kind of clientele that they wanted to attract. I told him I was starting a construction job next week, but I'd work nights here, if I got to lift for free. He started to hand me an application, but then said 'Fuck it, you're hired,' and put the application away. He put out his hand, and we shook. I could feel him gripping tight, so I gripped tighter. His big hand was hard with callouses, and he kept squeezing tighter, testing my grip. Neither of us would break the grip our eyes had on each other too. He smirked at me like a man who had never lost this challenge. Both our forearm muscles were bulging with cable-thick muscles. The only grip training I had done was with those Captains of Crush grippers. I was up to the #3's, and was closing those for twenty reps. Then I would hold them closed for as long as I could stand the pain. I thought of how much power it took to close those suckers, and applied that strength now. I noticed the ex-marine grimace ever so slightly, and I knew I had him. I squeezed harder, and felt his knuckles buckle in on each other, giving me even greater leverage. I squeezed harder, and noticed his knees wobble, and his smirk disappear. Now I couldn't stop myself, and I squeezed harder. He went down on one knee, and was trying to pull his hand out of mine. Yeah, right, like that was gonna work. He grabbed my wrist with his other hand and tried to pry me off of him. Now I was the one smirking. Finally, he cried out, "Stop!", and I let go. He pulled his hand out of mine and examined it for damage. "Fuck," he muttered, and I realized I had probably just set myself up for the fastest hiring and firing in history.
He stood up and said, "That's quite a grip you got there," still caressing his beaten hand.
"Yep," I said, boning up over my position as the alpha male over this tough marine.
"We should lift together sometime," he said.
"Maybe we should," I said, heading toward the door. Guess I still had the job, but I was late for Val's. I got into my car and sat for a minute. My right forearm was raging with pump. I was dying to jack off with it, to feel the power stroking me. I was horned up like a goat. But I was hungry too, so I headed out of the parking lot toward Val's.
I was only a few minutes late as I pulled in the long wooded driveway that led up to Val's house. I parked in the back and saw her through the kitchen window. I went in through the backdoor.
"Sorry I'm late," I said.
"Don't be silly," she said, "you're right on time." She was pulling two big steaks out of the broiler. They smelled awesome. Then she pulled a big tray of lasagna out of the oven. "Sit," she said, motioning to the kitchen table. There was a big bowl of salad already there, along with two place settings. I sat down, and Val put a platter with the steaks in front of me. Then she put the tray of lasagna next to me. She sat down and put some salad on her plate.
"Which steak do you want?" I asked her.
"Those are both for you," she answered. "The lasagna too. I'm just having salad."
OK by me, I thought, and dug in. Best goddam steaks I'd ever had, and I ate both of them before even starting on the lasagna. Then I ended up eating the whole tray. Meanwhile, Val talked and talked about everything that was going on in the old neighborhood. She barely touched her food.
"You must think I'm a pig, eating all your food like this," I said, wiping my mouth with the napkin.
"Not at all," she answered. "My dad eats that much every meal."
The guy must be a huge fat fuck, I thought to myself.
"Is he here?" I asked, remembering what my sister had said about him not liking guys at the house alone with Val.
"No, he's out of town and not due back until tomorrow." She looked me up and down like she had back at my parents' house. "Why don't you show me just how big you've gotten?" she said, and she came over to me, grabbed the bottom of my shirt and started to pull it up. I complied by raising my arms into the air so she could pull off the shirt. She wanted to see muscle, I'd show her muscle. She had to stretch the shirt out some to get it over my flaring lats, and the sleeves sort of stuck at my biceps, but she finally tugged it off me and tossed it aside. She put her hands on my traps. Her hands felt so small on my shoulders. It made me realize just how big and thick I was getting.
"Ah, Mikey," she moaned, as she ran her hands out to my delts. I felt her quiver as she felt the density of my super hard shoulder muscle. She came around to the front of me, then straddled me in the chair.
"Whoa!" I said, surprised. She smiled, and began to feel up my pecs. She cupped them in her hands and tested their weightiness. I was getting aroused. "OK, Val, you gotta stop," I said.
"Why?" she asked me.
"Cause you're my sister's best friend. This is too weird."
"Is this too weird?" she said, and she reached inside my shorts and grabbed my cock and started stroking it. Everything went white with pleasure. Her skin was like warm satin, and it worked up and down my shaft with mindblowing finesse. I felt myself growing in her grip with alarming speed. I stood up and lifted her with me. I held her out at arm's length, her feet dangling.
"I gotta go," I said to her, dizzy with my own horniness."I gotta go lift," and I bolted out the back door. I got into my car, threw it into reverse and backed out of the drive. Sweat was rolling down my pits and my cock was rigged as a flag pole, but I had to get out of there. Val was like my own sister, and I was freaking out. One more second in that kitchen, and I don't know what would have happened.
I headed toward the World Gym. I was halfway there when I realized that I had left my shirt at Val's. Oh well, no going back right now. I pulled into the gym parking lot and went inside. Paul, the manager who I had talked to earlier was behind the desk.
"Well, look who's back," he said. "Damn, you are a big boy." I guess without my shirt on, and two steaks and a tray of lasagna later, I did look damned big.
"Dude, I gotta lift," I said, so jacked up I could barely speak. I reeked of testosterone-rich sweat.
"You want a partner?" he asked.
"Yeah, whatever, sure," I said.
"Tom," he yelled into the back room, "watch the desk, I'm going to train with the new kid." He came around the counter and led me to the weightroom. "Whatcha training?" he asked me.
"Chest," I said. We walked over to a flat bench, and he loaded it with 225. I grunted, and said, "315 for warmup." He looked at me, then shrugged and slapped on two more 45's. I laid down on the bench and started repping them out. I had a raging need to lift. I did rep after rep after rep. I totally lost count until Paul grabbed the bar and pulled it back onto the rack.
"Enough," he said. "That was fifty reps. Never seen anything like it," he said, staring at me, shaking his head. "Let me go, then we'll add more weight."
Fine with me, I thought. I got up and let him on the bench. I'd gotten a decent pump going, and bounced my swollen pecs a few times to shake them out. Paul did 15 reps, the last three with my help. Then, as he pushed the bar up and back onto the rack, I lifted it from him. I pulled the bar over the weight rack, took a step back, and started doing standing rows. Rep after rep, slow and controlled, with 315, pumping my delts like two balloons. Felt so fucking light, I just held to bar at the top of each rep, and crunnnnched my delts. I could feel my own power growing, the most incredible feeling ever. I did 20 reps and slammed the bar back onto the flat bench rack. Paul stared at me, and I brought my arms down and across my torso, blasting into a crab shot.
"Holy shit!" cried Paul. "Fucking sweeet." He loaded two more 45's onto the bar bringing it to 405.
"Not enough," I said. "495....." Paul slapped on two more 45's. I hoisted to bar up and over the rack again, and did more standing rows. Nothing could stop me, I was raging with muscle and power. My muscle was jacked. After 30 reps, I bent over and started doing bent-over rows, feeling my lats thicken and respond to the weight load I was demanding of them. At 20 reps, I widened my grip and continued my set, feeling my lats spread out like a chinese fan. I did 20 more reps, then let the weights go, crashing to the floor and bouncing hard. I stood and looked at myself in the mirror. Fucking unbelievable sight. Muscles bloated like never before. Veins snaking across my vast chest. My arms jutting out to the side, forced outward by a huge set of flaring lats. And I hadn't even flexed yet. Even my nips were pumped, sticking out like armor-piercing bullets, sweat rollling down my pecs in streams, and dripping off the end of them. I was drenched in sweat, and when some dripped off my eyebrows and into my eyes, it stung. The guy working out next to me had an oversized muscle shirt on. I reached over and grabbed it, lifting him off the ground like a flea. I dried my face with his shirt while he flopped around inside it. Then I used him to wipe off my deep hairy armpits. And the river of sweat running down my deep pec crevice. Then I sat him down.
"Thanks, little man," I said to him, his shirt all stretched out and soaked in my sweat. The dude stared at me, speechless, but was sprouting a pup tent inside his shorts. A wet spot was spreading out there too. He scurried off into the locker room. I turned back to the mirror. No wonder he got hard, being pressed up against this! It was like every ounce of food I ate at Val's had packed on as muscle. My nostrils flared as I soaked in my own reflection. Paul grabbed my arm.
"Let's go to my office, I want to see you flex out that mass in private," he said, leading me thru the employee doorway. I followed him, every eye in the place on me. I was gonna give this guy a show of his lifetime.