Doug and Joey

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Two months into the summer, and Doug and Joey were stoked. Both were making amazing gains in their lifts. Doug had surpassed his goal of a 750 bench, and was now hitting 840 for reps. Joey was benching 510, and adding weight every workout. He was completely psyched by his new powerhouse body,and sometimes at night, he swore he could feel what fat was left on him morphing directly into muscle. He and Doug worked on grip strength so intensely, that one night Joey went into the rec room at his house, picked up the cue ball from his father's pool table, and, palming the ball in one beefy teen hand, crushed it into powder like dry plaster. Then he picked up one poolball after another, alternating hands, destoying them with ease. He got hard as his forearms swelled with power and pump, and loved watching the muscles bunch as he rolled his wrists.

Squat day at Doug's garage was a ballbuster. The boys spent three hours doing set after set after set of squats. Doug insisted on strict technique, and if your ass didn't hit your ankles, he didn't count it as a rep. In the beginning, Joey used to puke his guts out on squat day,but not anymore. Now, his poundage on the squats was growing in leaps and bounds. In fact, he was becoming so confident in his power, that after watching Doug pound out 10 reps with 1200lbs, he said, "Now let me try."

"Shit, dude," said Doug. "That's 400lbs more that you ever tried. You'll get crushed."

"Let's just see," said Joey, sidling up and under the bar. He hoisted the bar off the rack, onto his traps, and stepped back. He steadied the clanging plates. He lowered himself down, butt to floor, then up again. Then he did another rep. And another. His movements were slow and steady, making the weight almost look light, except that his face was beet-red, and his neck veins were bulging to garden hose size. He did more reps, till he was tied with Doug at ten. He started to lean into the rack, but then stepped back...He did another rep, then another, continuing till he hit 15 reps, at which point he slammed to bar back down on the rack.

"You freak mutherfucker!!" yelled Doug, all proud of his charge.

Joey was huffing hard, sweat pouring down his face. He leaned down and pulled off his sweatpants, exposing his legs. Two months ago they had been massive fatboy legs, but now they were massive, hard-as-oak muscle machines. His black spandex lifting shorts were stained dark with sweat. His bloated quads looked like overblown balloons, hanging three inches out over his kneecaps. The cold garage was making his legs steam like over-heated pistons. He stretched himself up onto his toes, flexing his calves. They bulged up like two huge eggplants. His fat boy ass was still the same size, only now solid and hard, like two medicine balls planted on his backside.

"Goddamn you man, I think we're ready," said Doug.

"Ready for what," huffed Joey, still looking down at his huge powerhouse legs, making the muscles ripple.

"Come inside, I'll show you."

They went into Doug's house, and on the kitchen table was a flyer announcing a powerlifting competition coming up that weekend right in their town. The two teens leaned over the flyer, reading the info.

"Whadda think, boy," asked Doug, grinning.

"Shit, man," answered Joey, "we'll kick some powerlifting ass!"

To be continued?