The Swimming Hole 2 (musc)
by Jaypat
There was a nip in the air that Saturday when I went out to mow the lawn. So my shorts stayed in the drawer and it was jeans and a sweatshirt I wore to do the job. Fall had definitely arrived and I had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand I was going to miss the warm weather and all the bare skin and muscle on display, but on the other hand I knew I wouldn’t have to mow the lawn much longer.
I had just fished up when I heard the unmistakable clatter and clunk of a weight set being used. It was coming from next door, so I moseyed on over to the fence to have a look. Ah ha, I knew it. Jimmy’s been working out. There he was lying on an old weight bench getting ready to do some presses. Like me, he had on an old sweatshirt, but unlike me he was sticking to shorts… or were those swimming trunks? But… Holy crap, there were 205 pounds loaded on that bar!“You’re not going to try and lift that, are you?” I called over to him.
He sat up suddenly and looked guiltily like I’d caught him whacking off or something.
“Ah… nah,” he said. “I was just fooling around.”
Christ, his voice was definitely lower. He stood up and holy hell, he was taller! Damn he had to be a couple inches taller! It was hard to tell under that sweatshirt but he looked broader, too. …and were those tear drops, poking out the bottom of his swimming trunks? Damn, they were! And those calves… they were softballs and pretty cut up!
“I was going to say that’s too much weight for a newbie,” I said, “but you sure as hell don’t look like a newbie.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ve been working out a little.”
“A little?” Something wasn’t jibing. This was too much muscle in too short a time. “You’re not on steroids, Jimmy, are you? Because at your age, they could seriously stunt your growth.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, “not steroids…” Then I saw him look down at his arm like he wanted to flex it but was holding back.
“Then what?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, sounding a little peeved. “I’m just having a growth spurt, alright?”
“Ok, ok, whatever you say. Don’t get your jockeys in a twist.” I decided to change the subject. “So, what’s with the swimming trunks? You’re not still going to that swimming hole of yours, are you?”
“No!” he said a little too quickly. “I don’t go there anymore… it’s getting too cold. And besides, it’s kind of a hassle to get there and I think it’s on someone’s private property. I don’t want to get arrested or anything.”
Something about his attitude didn’t seem right. What he was saying made perfect sense, but I got the impression he was lying to me. But that was ridiculous. Why would he lie to me about something like that?
On Monday after school, I met up with Kurt again in the school weight room.
“Week two, buddy!” I greeted him. “Ready to do some chest?”
“Absolutely!” He said, loading the bar with plates… a few too many plates.
“What are you doing, dude?” I asked. “You really shouldn’t be starting with anything heavier than 50 pounds.”
“I’ve been thinking about it all weekend and I want to try it with 70 pounds today. I feel stronger,” he said, flexing his stick arms. “I think I’m ready to push though to the next level.”
Yeah, right. He wasn’t fooling me for a second. “70 pounds, hunh? Wasn’t that the exact weight Jenna was using last week?” I asked.
“Was it?” asked Kurt, trying to look completely innocent and failing miserably.
“Let’s just start with the 2 ½ pound plates and see how you do with those. If everything goes smoothly we’ll see how you do with 5 pound plates.”
“Oh come on, let me just try,” he said.
“Dude, if you go too heavy, you’ll hurt yourself. Then it could be weeks before you get back in the gym. You want to risk that?”
“I guess not,” he said, looking down dejectedly.
“Then climb on the bench and let’s get going.”
I pulled the extra plates off the bar and Kurt got into position. He began his set and was doing just fine. He was just finishing his last rep when Jenna strolled over again. Kurt quickly wracked the weight and sat up.
“Ah… hi, Jenna,” he said. “Just finishing my warm-up.”
Oh brother.
“Looking good, Kurt. Whose your friend?” she asked, gesturing to me.
Me? What did she want with me?
“Oh him?” said Kurt. “That’s my buddy, Matt.”
“Oh, hi, Matt, I’m Jenna.” She stuck out her hand. Ok. I guess I could shake her hand,
“Hey,” I said.
“Hi,” she said, “I see you in here a lot,”.
I just short of shrugged. I hadn’t noticed her but then I really wasn’t looking… at least not at the girls.
“How long have you been working out?”
“Oh… I don’t know….,” I said, feigning a fuzzy memory. I knew to the day. “Since I was 12.”
“It shows,” she said.
Suddenly I caught Kurt giving me the Glare O’ Death. Oh no. I did not like where this was going – on so many levels. I’d better do something to save this.
“It’s great to finally meet you, Jenna,” I said. “Kurt talks about you all the time.”
Suddenly Kurt who was standing behind Jenna began frantically waving his arms and shaking his head no!
“Ah…” I said, “Ok. Actually, he never talks about you at all.”
Kurt flipped me off after that one. Hell, even I have to admit it was a pretty useless save.
“Kurt… Kurt’s got great potential,” I said. “He’s gonna be a real beast; wait and see.”
“I’m sure he will,” said Jenna, “with someone like you to train him.”
Suddenly and frantically Kurt started stripping the 2 1/2plates off the bar and replacing them with 25 pound plates. Christ, I knew what he was thinking as clearly as if I could read his mind. I had to stop him. But how could I do it without completely humiliating him in front of Jenna.
“Would you flex for me?” asked Jenna, looking up at me with big brown doe eyes.
“Ah…” I said, my eyes flickering frantically between Jenna and Kurt, who was sliding on to the bench. I wanted to call out to him to stop, but there was just a chance he might be able to squeeze out one rep. And if he succeeded, and we timed it right, he might just get the two of us out of this situation.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” said Jenna.
I had to admit I was a little tempted here. I loved showing off my 16 inch biceps, but if I flexed for Jenna right now, my ripped, vascular, bulging guns would definitely upstage Kurt’s little 95 pound bench press.
But Jenna didn’t wait for me to decide; she reached out and grabbed my upper arm.
“Whoa…,” she said. “You’re like stone! How much do you curl?”
Suddenly Kurt was pushing up on the bar as hard as he could. He was turning five different shades of red, but he got it up off the supports! Now was the time!
“Damn, Kurt, how may reps was that? I lost count,” I said hoping Jenna would turn and look.
But of course she didn’t. Kurt began the rep, lowering the bar. I was actually kind of proud of him. He was taking his time, just like I taught him. It was a solid negative rep. But when Kurt got to the bottom of the movement, that’s where he stayed. Damn! He was struggling, squirming, but he just couldn’t move that bar.
“I bet you curl at least a hundred pounds,” said Jenna.
“I…ah… yeah…sure…” I said, unable to take my eyes off Kurt. Suddenly he lost the battle. His arms collapsed and the bar came down on his chest, pinning him to the bench. Kurt was doing his best to squirm out from underneath it, but he looked just pathetic.
This is a disaster! If Jenna sees him now, it will be utter humiliation!
“See you around,” said Jenna. She was about to turn to go. I couldn’t let her see Kurt like that! I flexed my right arm and my beautiful, carved 16 incher bulged up. Not surprisingly, it stopped Jenna in her tracks.
Come on, Kurt! Hurry up and get out from under that thing!
“Nice,” said Jenna as she reached out and gave my bicep a squeeze.
Kurt was still struggling to free himself when suddenly a strong pair of hands appeared and lifted the bar right off of him. It was Greg Batson. “Thank God,” I sighed, mentally.
“What the hell is going on here?” said Greg. He looked genuinely pissed.
“I guess I kind of lost control of it,” said Kurt softly.
“You could have really hurt yourself,” said Greg. “Your useless workout partner should have been spotting you instead of hitting on that girl.” He shot me an angry glare.
Who? What? Where?
Kurt followed his glance and caught sight of Jenna just as she removed her hand from my bicep. Oh great, now Kurt looked like he wanted to kill me, too.
“Yeah, he is kind of douche,” said Kurt.
“Why don’t you come finish your workout with me?” said Greg.
“Thanks,” said Kurt. “I will.” Then the two of them, after giving me a look like they wished I’d spontaneously explode, turned and walked away.
Oh my god, by best friend just went off with the crush of my life and the two of them hated me.
And that left me with… Jenna -- who looked like she wanted me to continue the gun show.
Great. Just fucking great. How could this have happened? How?
Of course, Kurt stopped talking to me after that. I called him, texted him, emailed him, hit him up on Facebook. Nothing. He even avoided me in the halls. Jenna, on the other hand was impossible to avoid. Suddenly she was everywhere. In fact it seemed every time I turned around she was standing there. I wasn’t sure how she did it. It almost seemed supernatural, and I wasn’t sure how to get rid of her. And I had to get rid of her somehow. I missed my friend.
Of course I still saw him every afternoon… in the weight room… working out with amazing Greg… Grrrrrrr.
I saw Jimmy a couple of days later. I was coming out of the school and there he was with the dork patrol. Jeeze, I don’t know how it was possible but he seemed even bigger! And seeing him with his friends really brought home how much he’d changed. He was easiest the tallest of them and he was definitely broader and way more thickly built than any of the others. His neck was really fucking thick. It was hard to tell with his jacket on but Jimmy looked like he could easily do military presses with his friend, little Pete Temple.
Pete of course was the junior member of the dork patrol and hadn’t even hit 5 feet yet. But then his whole family was kind of short. And he wasn’t just skinny, he was petite, you know he had really tiny bones. If he ever fell over it looked like he might shatter.
Then there was Donny Henderson. He was probably the tallest after Jimmy, but calling him chunky would have been kind. He had more padding than an easy chair and his face was just riddled with acne.
The final member of Jimmy’s little crew was Eric Dobson. Think big ears, freckles and a thick pair of heavy rimmed glasses and you’ve got him.
Yup, a sorrier bunch of losers was hard to imagine.
Toby Mathews thought the same thing and he pushed them aside as he strode right up to not-so-little Jimmy.
“We have some unfinished business,” said Toby. I guess he thought he was going to finish what he started the other week when Jimmy had lost him in the woods.
“Take a hike, Mathews,” said Jimmy.
That was a surprise. This was usually the part where Jimmy took off running.
Toby just grinned and said, “Take a hike. How about you take this instead?” And he nailed Jimmy right in the gut. And what a surprise it was to everyone when Jimmy took it almost without flinching. Toby took back his hand and was shaking it out in the air. Did he hurt it? On Jimmy? No, he couldn’t have. Jimmy must be wearing something under his jacket, like Clint Eastwood in that movie.
Then Jimmy hauled back and punched Toby right in the nose. I heard the crack even from where I was. Damn, blood was just started pouring out of Toby’s nose. “Oh fuck,” he said in a nasal voice. “Fuck!” and then he turned around clutching at his bleeding face and made a quick exit.
Everyone in the school yard started applauding. I went over to Jimmy and clapped him on the back. Damn, he was pretty hard under that jacket!
“Way to go, Jimmy,” I said. Then I turned to rest of the dork patrol and said, “See, if you guys all worked out like Jimmy here, you could be ruling this school.”
I thought I was just offering words of encouragement. If only I’d known.
Kurt kept avoiding me, and Jenna kept annoying me. After, like, the 10th time she “surprised” me outside my Trig class, I finally just said, “You know I’m gay, don’t you?”
“No you’re not,” she said. “You only think you are; and that’s because you never spent a night with me.”
“Yeah, that has to be it,” I said.
“Why don’t you come by my house tonight and see?” she said.
That was an invitation I really had no trouble refusing.
But I had a problem. Now that Kurt wasn’t talking to me, I was starting to get kind of lonely. One evening I even walked over to my backyard fence to see if Jimmy might be around. Of course there was no sign of him or his weight set. But I thought I heard clanking from the garage. I guess that only made sense. As the autumn was wearing on, it was getting too cold to work out outside. He must have moved his weight bench inside.
As I gave one last look at his garage before turning around to go back inside, I caught sight of something weird on the garage roof. It was just after twilight so it was kind of hard to make out what it was. At first I thought it was some kind of antenna or something, but then as I stared at it, I realized it was his family’s wrought iron patio table. What the hell was it doing up there…? Never mind that…how the hell did it get up there? It’s not like the wind could have blown it there. That thing was pretty heavy. Oh well, I’d have to ask Jimmy next time I saw him.
I could only take about another week of Kurt’s behavior before I finally cornered him outside the school. And I mean that quite literally. He was in a corner and there was no way out except past me and I was way stronger than he was.
“What do you want Matt?” he asked.
“I want you to start talking to me again,” I said.
“Why should I talk to the guy who stole my girlfriend?”
“Ok, first of all, she wasn’t your girlfriend. You barely talked to her. And secondly, I did not steel anyone!”
“Now you’re a liar, too,” he said. “How could you do this to me? You were my best friend and you stole my girl! And all this time I thought you were gay.”
“I am gay!” I said. “I’m as gay as they come… well, maybe not that gay, but pretty damn gay.”
“Then how come you’re always with Jenna? Everywhere I go I see the two of you together?”
“Dude, she stalks me. She won’t leave me alone. It’s like she has some kind of psychic radar that lets her know where I’m going to be and when I’m going to be there?”
“You mean she’s got a copy of your class schedule?” said Kurt.
I had to pause for a second to let that sink in. “It sounds a lot less creepy when you put it that way, but, yeah, that’s probably it.”
“Well, what did you expect with you flexing your big muscles all in front of her?”
“Buddy, I only did that so she wouldn’t turn and see you crushed by that barbell.”
Now it was his turn to pause and think. “Really?”
“Yeah, bro, of course. I’ve always got your back,” I said.
“Oh,” he said, “guess I was wrong… sorry.”
“It’s ok, buddy. Friends again?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Awesome, maybe we could even work out together sometime. I mean, I know you workout with Greg now, and that’s gotta be awesome, but…”
I was really envious of Kurt. I’d had dreams about working out with Greg… and most of them had had sticky endings.
“Oh yeah… Greg…,” said Kurt.
“He must be a great workout partner,” I said
“To tell you the truth, he’s a little weird.”
“Weird?”
“Yeah, every time he passes a mirror he pulls off his shirt and starts flexing in it.”
Oh my God, that was in my dream!
“And he’s always asking me to feel his muscles.”
Fuck! Oh fuck! I envied Kurt! “Really? What did they feel like—er I mean, seriously?”
“Yup, and the other day, after our workout, we went down to shower, and all the stalls except one were taken. He actually suggested we shower together—”
“Ok, shut up, Kurt. I don’t want to hear anymore.”
“But he also—“
“No, really, Kurt, if you say another word, I may have to hurt you.”
“Ok, but you’d probably make a much better workout partner for him than I did.”
“You think so?” I said.
“Yup,” said Kurt. “You both seem to be about the same level. Too bad he thinks you’re a douche.”
“He thinks I’m a what…? How…? Why would he think that?”
“Ahhhhh…,” said Kurt, looking guilty as fuck. “I don’t know.”
“Ok, Kurt, I really, really may have to hurt you now.”
Of course I didn’t. In fact we started working out together the next day. I was actually kind of proud of him. In just over a month of working out he’d gone from struggling with 55 pounds to finishing his bench work out with 6 reps at 75 pounds. Of course most of the credit went to me. I was the one who taught him how to work out. All he had to do was show up and do what I told him.
But he really seemed to be taking to the iron. I could actually have work out conversations with him now. Everything wasn’t just Jenna. He could tell he was getting bigger and stronger and he liked it.
Of course, like everything, this had its downside. He had this unrealistic picture of his progress. For some reason he was under the impression he was a junior Mr. Olympia. Don’t get me wrong; his flatness had definitely started to take on some shape, but he was still pretty much a stick.
“Oh come on, bro,” he said. “Halloween is still a week away. I can do it.”
“No, buddy, there’s no way you can go as the Hulk.”
“Oh come on dude, it would be so sweet. All I’d need would be a little green body paint. This body would take care of the rest,” he said spreading his skinny arms.
Yeesh. I was about to answer him when suddenly the thunderous voice echoed through the room.
“Ok, all you fuckin’ runts, clear out!”
I looked over and saw the biggest kid I’d ever seen standing by the weight room door. Holy shit, he was at least 6 foot 3 and wider than the doorway! He was wearing a wife beater so I had no trouble seeing his massive arms. He had huge muscular shoulders, biceps almost as big as soccer balls and forearms bigger than my thighs. And those giant arms were forced to arc out to his sides by his ridiculously wide back. Fuck, his pecs were another couple of near soccer balls, and they stretched that wife beater so far out in front of him, it was causing the bottom of the shirt to hike up and show off his brick like abs. His legs were the proverbial tree trunks and they pulled his workout shorts so tight around them I couldn’t understand how they just didn’t fly apart – especially considering the extra large package he was obviously carrying around inside them.
“You heard me!” he shouted. “Get out! We’re going to work out now and we don’t want any of you little boys getting in our way!”
“We?” I couldn’t help thinking. I looked over and saw another three big guys enter the room. Two of them were nowhere near as huge as their leader, but they still outsized me , and the third guy… Holy crap! He wasn’t just bigger than the leader, he was a monster, just fucking humongous—almost inhuman! He had to be nearly 7 feet tall and about 5 feet wide at the shoulders. He was shirtless so it was easy to see his body was all muscle, Huge thick enormous traps bulged up on either side of a tree trunk neck. He had gigantic, satiated delts that flowed into enormous, veined wrapped upper arms that looked like two massive muscle mountains, even when relaxed. His forearms were as thick around as a goal post, and his chest was two basketballs, hard, solid and ripped.
His abs… His abs were eight fucking mountainous plateaus of muscle leading down to his workout shorts--which didn’t do much to hide his python cock and his orange-sized balls. And his legs, crap, his thighs were so wide, the football players could probably practice blocking with them, though I doubt they’d budge them an inch. And I could see each and every gigantic leg muscle bulge and ripple under his skin.
He saw me gaping at him and flexed a bicep. He grinned as it expanded into a vein covered basketball. Then, not taking his eyes off me, he ran his hand over it, squeezing and messaging it. Then ran his hands over his massive, rock hard pecs and down over his muscle brick stomach..
Fuck, looking at him… so much muscle bulging out over every inch of his giant frame, I felt myself go rock hard in under a second.
Who was this guy? No way in hell could one of my classmates have grown into this beast without my noticing. Maybe he wasn’t a student. I was pretty sure you’d have to be at least 30 to have a body like that, but no… His face was the face of a high school kid! How was that possible…? Each of these guys… They had the faces of high school kids, but the bodies of guys who’d been pumping iron for a decade or more.
Then the leader – the first guy in – turned his gaze directly on me. I swear my heart stopped. Then he said, “Not you, Matt. You and your friend can stay if you want.”
Holy fuck! How did this guy know my name? Did I know him? I looked closely at his face and my heart, which had stopped earlier, just about leapt up my throat and out of my mouth.
“Is that…?” asked Kurt in a shaky voice
“Yeah…” I answered equally shocked.
“Jimmy?” I said. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Didn’t recognize me, right?” he grinned. “Check this out!” Then he reached up grabbed his shirt and ripped it right off his own back. Hoooooly fuck, he was all muscle, every freaking, bulging, vein covered inch of him! His pecs were like round hard melons, his shoulders and back were as wide as the door. His upper arms were at least the size of my head, with thick angry veins leading up to bowling ball delts.
Damn, he was muscle perfection. Besides that killer upper body, he had the legs of a total beast. Each of his huge thighs was every bit as big around as his waist and carved with rolling, rippling sinew.
“Nothing,” said the hugely muscled neighbor child. “Just hit my growth spurt. That’s all.” And he flexed showing me a huge round bicep bigger than a soft ball!
Growth spurt my ass! I’ve seen virtually all my friends and classmates go through their growth spurts and I’ve never seen anything even close to this. But you don’t call a 6’ 3” behemoth an out and out liar. That wouldn’t be good manners.
“And who are your friends?” I asked.
“Ha,” he snorted. “You don’t recognize theme either, hunh? That’s ok. We get that a lot.”
I looked again and almost passed out on the spot. It was the dork patrol, except they were huge! …and one of them was a fucking muscle giant!
Donny Henderson—his acne was gone, his padding was gone; he was still thick but it was solid brawn! Muscle was bulging out all over him.
Eric Dobson had grown into his big ears. Besides, with arms like his, no one was going to be looking at his ears anyway. He still had freckles, but now they covered a rolling, bulging landscape of pecs, shoulders and abs. He was another total stud.
That meant the gigantic seven foot muscle monster had to be… holy crap…little Pete Temple. One look at his face confirmed it. What the fuck happened to him? He was such a fragile little wisp. Now it looked like a car could fall on him and he wouldn’t notice. Holy fuck!
“It looks like you and your friends all hit your growth spurts at the same time,” I said.
“Yeah,” grinned Jimmy. “Funny how that worked.”
Our weight room wasn’t big and by this time most of people there had picked up their stuff and left. But there was this one guy who was plugged into his Ipod and hadn’t heard Jimmy and the dork patrol—I had to stop calling them that. I guess they were the beast patrol now.
The guy was at the squat rack. He had just lifted the bar onto his shoulders and was about to start a set with 225. Jimmy strode over and easily lifted the bar right off the guy’s shoulders. The guy whirled around to see what happened and found himself facing Jimmy’s bulging striated pecs.
“I guess you didn’t hear me,” said Jimmy. “The weight room’s closed. Get out.” Then Jimmy started doing curls with the 225. Fuck, look at those arms swelling into hard, round, vascular massiveness. The guy took one look at Jimmy’s display of raw muscle, grabbed his stuff and ran from the room.
“Jeeze,” said Kurt. “How’d he get so big so fast?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “but one way or another, I’m going to find out.”