Andy 4: September

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I decided on my own to put off college for a year. I told my parents when they'd called from Germany, where they'd been most of the summer. They didn't seem upset at all. My mom thought it would be good to take a year to grow. Little did she know. All I was doing was growing. I taped myself out at 6'6", and weighed in at 348lbs. I was gaining ten pounds a week, and my strength grew in leaps and bounds. I still loved pumping up at home before going to lift with T-Bone, but when I realized that I could grab one foot of my bed and lift it straight off the ground with one hand, I bought some heavier weights and set them up outside by the pool. The backyard was pretty private, so I would work out in just my bikini briefs. Loved how tight they hugged my donkey cock to my body as I worked out.

I'd get my muscles as pumped up as I could with the 400lbs of olympic plates that I'd gotten on sale. Doing military presses with 400lbs plus the bar was a rush. My whole upper body would swell, and I could feel my lower back muscles clench and tighten for support as I pushed the weight up, over and over, bringing it down till it barely brushed my massive chest, then pushing it back up again, and again, making me stronger and stronger, sweat dripping of the end of my nose and spraying out as I huffed another rep out. Six sets of twelve later, and I had to go check out my body. The downstairs guest room was right off the pool, and had a dresser with a big mirror on it. Flip on the light, and there I was. So goddam huge. Hit a most-muscular and watched it all explode with size. Massive bulked up delts the size of pumpkins. Pecs crushing together and swelling up. My 24" neck sticking out two inches on each side of my head, then merging with the huge steel-hard traps. Felt so freaky strong. Put my hands on each side of the dresser and lifted it off the ground. Never knew mahogany was so light! Lifted it till the mirror tapped against the ceiling. Felt my lats flaring with power. I slammed the dresser down, felt the whole house shake. I stepped back. Checked out the thick veins criss-crossing my chest, showing even thru the thick mat of fur that was swirling across it. I felt a black rage surging up from my toes. The room seemed to get darker. I snarled at the hulking image in the mirror, and swung my fist into the top of the dresser. It snapped clean in two. Didn't realize mahogany was so fragile. My hand had gotten so much thicker and beefy than I didn't even feel it smash the wood. I brought my fist down onto the dresser again, busting it up even more. I grabbed a piece of the broken top, and snapped it like a cracker. Then I went ape-shit on the dresser, smashing it to bits with my bare hands. When it was crushed into pieces, I turned toward the four-poster cast iron bed. I wrapped my hand around one thick post and bent it downward. Fuck yeahh. I felt a sudden realization that I had always been strong, stronger than other kids, but had hidden it under layers of fat and fear. Now I was tapping into that strength, fostering it, letting it rage. And I wanted more. More than anyone had ever imagined. I bent the bed frame into a twisted heap, the mattress and box spring all mangled up inside it like a trapped animal. My forearms bulged and throbbed with power. I was so drenched in sweat, looked like I'd just gotten out of the shower. I wiped the sweat off my face as my breathing slowed and leveled off, and the rage abated. I looked around the room. The only thing intact was the mirror. I saw myself, all sweaty, huffing, jacked 358lbs. A beast. Sweat dripping off my nips. Fuck yeahh. And I was starving. A starving beast. I lumbered into the kitchen. Ate everything I could get my hands on. Six cans of tuna. Two dozens eggs. Two loaves of whole wheat bread. Eight cups of rice. More tuna. Two pies. A gallon of whole milk. Ate and ate and ate. Ate myself into a stupor. Then jacked off and fell asleep for a solid hour.

I woke up and realized I was running late for workout with T. Threw my gear on and headed out. When I got to the gym, he was waiting for me at the bench press. He looked pissed at first, but when I walked right up to him, I could see him backing off. Every since I'd crushed him down in arm wrestling, he'd get that look every once in a while. Plus, I was nearly 50lbs bigger now, and really did sort of dwarf him. I had to look down and over my chest to see him, I'd gotten that close. He took a step back.

"Come on, Andy, you gonna work out or what?" he said. He'd already loaded the bar to 225.

"With this?" I said to him.

"I know, man, you can do more, but it's a good warm-up."

"For curls, maybe," I said, straddling the bench, facing the bar, and lifting it up. I curled it up, slow and steady, feeling my arm muscles power it up and down. Felt so good, I did 20 reps.

T shook his head. "Ok, have it your way." We loaded the bar up to 615.

"That's better," I said.

Four sets later, I was up to 880. This was more like it. Really working the muscle, deep. Got my hogs raging. Popped them out in mirror between sets. Pounded on them with my gorilla fists, breaking up the fascia, allowing for more growth. Got them all swollen and welted. Could see it was freaking T out some, seeing how hard I was slamming my chest. The rest of the work out went pretty much the same way, with me basically doubling or tripling the weight that T wanted me to use. But what could he say, especially since I was pumping out all the reps I wanted to. The only thing he could probably call me on was my gut, which was still pretty big, but solid as hell now. I liked that it cause it made me feel so inhuman huge and strong. I liked it a lot.

After the work out, I headed to the locker room. Just as I was headed to the showers, T walked in, looking all serious.

"Listen, Andy, I need to talk to you....."

Ut-oh, I thought. This wasn't good. I knew something had been bugging him since I got in. Maybe he was still miffed that I was late.

"I don't think I can be your trainer anymore," he said, not making eye contact.

"What? Just because I was late today?"

"Nah, man, it's not that. I've shown you everything you need to know. You're one of the fastest learners I ever trained, and look at you man, you're even outgrowing the equipment here!"

I didn't know how to respond, but I could feel my face starting to flush. For the first time in months, I felt like the unpopular fat kid again, getting dissed by the cool kid. I had to fight to keep tears from coming.

"You can't do that man, my mom paid you upfront for six months," I stammered out pathetically.

"I'll pay back the money, Andy, but there's no reason for you to keep coming to don't even listen to my advice anymore."

My breathing was coming in deep and fast. I could feel my heart pounding, burning. And I could feel a rage brewing. A darkness flooding in like storm. My muscles tensing, twitching.

"You muther fucker," I snarled at T, then charged him. I rammed into him so hard, his feet came off the ground. I powered him through the locker room and into the shower till he hit the back wall of tile. I could hear the wind whoosh out of him as he hit. I pinned my forearm against his neck, and slowly slid him up the tile. I pressed harder on him, and realized that the base of my forearm was thicker than his little neck. His face reddened as I pressed harder. I pictured his windpipe closing up from the intense pressure of my muscle crushing into his neck. I held him easily against the wall as he struggled. He punched me a couple of times but I felt nothing but pleasure. I felt myself getting hard. I held him pinned to the wall with one arm, his feet dangling. I took my other hand, formed a fist, and slammed it into the wall next to his head, busting four tiles. I saw his lips turning blue. His arms flailing. I noticed him swing up and hit the shower faucet. Water sprayed out as his arm flew up to the showerhead and knocked toward me. The water was ice cold, and felt good, cooling my hulking raging muscle. I let it pour over me. I looked at T and felt the rage slipping away. I slid him down the wall and loosened my arm. My ten inch hardon was pinned against his sternum. I started sliding it up and down on him. As the water heated up, T reached over and grabbed a bottle of shower gel. He poured it up and down my thick shaft. I went up and down his chest. Felt so good. Then he took me in his hand and started stroking. I'd never had a handjob from anyone but myself. The sensation made my eyes cross. I grabbed T and flipped us both around so that I was leaning on the wall. I arched into him, and he stroked. The warm water hit us both. With his other hand, T stroked himself. My dick looked like a club compared to his. Made his hand look small. I looked at the size of it. Huge and growing, just like me. The head swollen, big as a tennis ball. T rubbed his thumb at the base of it. I slammed my head back in pleasure, cracking another 4 tiles. I couldn't speak, couldn't think. Saw T jerking us both harder. Felt the smooth satin skin of my dick sliding up and down the thick grisly inner column, thick as T's wrist. So good. My first fucking hand job. T jerked faster and faster, both of us lubed with gel and pre. I felt a rumbling in my balls, a clenching. My dick jacking straight up, like a satyr's. Then I came. I came like a SuperSoaker filled with vanilla yogurt, blasting upward, splashing the ceiling tiles, shot after shot of beautiful release, arching into T's grip as he drained me, stroke after stroke, squeezing out the cum. T came too, a good sized load of jock cum. I watched it wash away in the shower water.

"Fuckin' A," I said.

"Oh yeah," said T.

"You still my trainer?"

"Long as you want, Andy." said T.

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