Gym Watching 2

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It was sad after such an euphoric evening imagining the giant muscle beast that talked to me that I had such a horrible day. Problem after problem assaulted me until I was left sitting at my desk, wishing I could escape to the comfort of home. But, I knew I had to go to the gym first. I had to lift weights, to make it more than just a habit, but an ingrained part of my life.

I continued to tell myself this even as the time for me to be there had passed. I kept saying, "It doesn't matter that I'm late, the important thing is I get there." So, when I finally arrived at the gym close to an hour after my normal time, I simply smiled at the small victory. I had fought the urge to go straight home after the annoying day, and now I was here, ready to forget everything else but the weights.

As I walked up the small hill to the front doors, out of the side of my eyes I could see a huge mass walking in the same general direction. I turned slightly to have my eyes fall on the muscle master of the gym, the big man that ruled my dreams every night, walking to his domain. He saw me and smiled, his grin washing over me like I was a love-sick schoolgirl. I simply waved and tried not to look too diptsy as I headed to the door.

We arrived at the same time and I held the door for him. His gravelly thanks was more than enough of a reply for me, but the gift of watching his wide back and muscular ass head to the check in counter was even more thrilling to me. We both got out our key tags as I followed him to the check in counter. Of course, the clerk knew us both and engaged him in some small talk while he scanned our keys. I drifted off slightly into my own world as I watch his forearms wriggle as he leaned slightly on the counter.

It took just a few moments for me to realize that he was speaking to me. Shaking myself out of my daze, I looked at him in confusion. He smiled again and said, "What are you working on little man?"

My response was legs and he smiled and said, "Hey, that's what I'm working on too. You wanna join me?"

If I weren't leaning against the stone counter, I would've fallen to the floor in shock. Part of me was still scared of this man and scared that he would lose interest in working out with me once he saw how badly my leg workouts went, but the logical side of me said that if he invited me, obviously he knew me, and therefore he would know that I couldn't hold a candle to the amount of weight he lifted. Therefore, I had nothing to worry about and I should just go for it. Not to mention the lust side of me was screaming "GO WITH HIM AND WATCH!"

So, siding with logic (not to mention the overwhelming lust of seeing this behemoth work on legs), I nodded my head and said, "Sounds good to me." So, like a lost little puppy, I fell in line behind the big man of the gym as we headed to the floor. I was about to mention the fact that I haven't done squats in years, but I noticed that we didn't go towards the pit, but instead towards the machines. We stopped at the leg extension machine and he dropped his heavy bag next to the area.

He began to stretch, so instead of asking a bunch of questions, I simply resigned myself to obeying his instructions. I made sure that I maneuvered myself so I could stretch comfortably, but more importantly, I made sure that I could see the big man as he stretched. And by god, was I happy that I did that.

He started by placing his left foot over his right and bending forward slowly. Almost tantalizingly, I watched as the extremely short shorts he wore sluggishly rose up his legs, revealing a set of beautifully serrated hamstrings. The sheer girth of them was shocking. I could see cords of muscle as thick as my water bottle line the back of his legs. And his quads seemed to sweep so far out, truly demonstrating what the term “tree trunk” truly meant. I mimicked his motion, my eyes glued on the thick mass of muscle that was his legs. He completed the stretch, his palms flat on the floor, and I simply drooled. I could see thick cords of muscle and veins line the back of his legs. It was amazing just tracing the sinews that went from his thick hamstrings down to his football sized calves.

He then slowly stood back up, relaxing the muscles as he rose and I followed suit. He then spread his legs, way out pass his normally wide stance and stretched again. I watched discretely but before he even started to bend down, I could see a massive bulge hanging from his crotch. I almost choked at the sheer size of his tool. Even though I knew he wore compression shorts, his organ still hung down a good distance from his crotch. It was as if he kept a football stuffed into his underwear. I could barely keep myself from drooling. It was awing how such a muscle beast like him could be huge in every way I could dream of. But it also was amusing how it all was so natural to him. I know that if I were his size, my life would be drastically different.

I forced myself to look away and focus on my own stretching. I didn’t want to look stupid in front of the big man by hurting myself. A few minutes later, he stood up once again and approached the machine. After quickly adjusting the seat and legs, he sat down and set the weight to a pretty high level in my eyes. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he started to crank out perfectly controlled reps.

I should have been stretching some more, but I was completely hypnotized by his quads. They were already huge, a lot bigger than my legs, but watching him extend them, flexing the muscle, blew my mind. I could see each muscle pop out in sharp relief as he extended his legs. I could see the veins trail up and down his legs, pumping blood throughout the muscle. I could see the definition and size of his mammoth quads and it made me want to just feel the huge ball of muscle work. Twenty blew by at a weight that was double of my ending weight and he kept going. It was a even fifty reps before he stopped and got up.

I stood there in awe, just mesmerized at how easily he accomplished that task. He didn’t even look winded. He smiled at me and said, “I usually do leg extensions first. Both to warm up and to pre-exhaust the quads for squats.” He patted me on the shoulder and said, “Your turn.”

I could do nothing but nod as I adjusted the seat and sat down. Normally, I did this after leg presses, but right now, he was the coach and I was going to follow all his directions. I set the pin to a really light weight, something I could do for fifty reps and started to work.

As I extended my legs slowly for each rep, I could feel his eyes on me. Not so much as a glare or a scowl, but more like a coach or a buddy would look. I could tell he was evaluating me, but not in a manner that made me feel uncomfortable. It was more like he was appraising my form, looking for weaknesses or places for improvement.

After I squeezed out my fortieth rep, I let the stack drop with a thud. He smiled at me again and started to adjust the seat back while giving me a small tip on my form. He set the weight up to another huge number, then cranked out forty reps himself. Then, before getting up, he set the weight down and looked at me. “I want you to do this weight, but I want you to only do 15. But instead of going fast, I want you to squeeze at the top, take about 3 secs to lower the weight and about 1 sec to raise it,” he said as he nudged me towards the machine.

I imagined the movement pretty quickly in my mind and settled into the seat. The first few reps weren’t all that difficult but I could definitely tell how different it was doing them this way. All the while, I could hear the big man standing next to me, barking instructions. I would be lying if I said that it didn’t have an effect on me; hearing him be so commanding, yet caring, was quite arousing. Thankfully, I was too focused on the task to start sprouting wood, but my cock did twitch for a moment in appreciation to the big coach.

The set was very different than all the other sets I had done before. I could feel my legs burning from the concentration I had to put into each rep. After I was done, I dropped the stack and my legs screamed. I slowly got up from the machine and gingerly placed some weight on my legs. They burned like never before and the big man patted me on the shoulder and said, “How does that feel buddy?”

I replied, “It burns,” and he said with a smile, “Good, that’s why we’re here.”

He got back on the machine and did another amazing set, then I did my set. I was too busy massaging the acid out of my legs to stare too much, but a few glances let me enjoy the beautiful extension of his massive quads. I thought about how it would feel to have legs as huge as his or to simply run my hands along the canyons of his huge muscle, but I didn’t dwell on those thoughts long.

After I finished my last set and hobbled off the machine, the big man smiled and said, “Ok, now squats.” A stray thought ran through my mind about how inexperienced I was at squatting, but I somehow knew that everything would be alright with the big coach there.

As we walked to the free weight pit, I counted the number of people there. As always, there were a lot of people in the area, but no one was doing legs. Everyone seemed to be doing arms and chest. I smiled; they would never achieve the big man’s size like that. Even I knew that squats and deadlifts pump testosterone and GH through your system. But, most of the guys here were superficial, focusing only on the vanity muscles. I wanted to look like the man in front of me, so huge that no one could ever doubt that I was a lifter.

While we were walking, I noticed a pair of guys in the squat rack. I was surprised for a moment before I noticed what they were doing. They weren’t doing anything involving legs, but instead had it set up so they could do barbell curls. I sighed to myself, wondering why people couldn’t just sit the bar on the floor or one of the benches or even the preacher curl station, but instead used one of the only two squat racks for arms.

Normally, I would just stand by and stretch, waiting patiently until they had finished, but the big man would have none of that. This was his gym, he was the master and he would not be delayed. He walked confidently up to the two guys and gently, but forcefully cleared his throat. When they turned to look, he said, “Hey fellas, there’s an open bench over there. You mind going over there so we can use this for squats.”

I smiled. He wasn’t rude or mean in the way he asked, but his tone and demeanor simply exuded his alpha dog nature. He had his hands on his hips and his lats were flared out, but he wasn’t flexing. His natural tendencies simply spoke volumes. They said, “Hey numbnuts, this is a SQUAT RACK. It’s for SQUATTING. Now, be good boys and go play with your curls somewhere else while a real lifter uses this for what it was intended for.”

Needless to say, they moved pretty quickly. They reset the rack to its normal state then quickly took their bar over to one of the empty benches. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing as they left and the big man turned to me and said, “I hate it when people do curls in the rack. Keep meaning to bring a sign to put up here. But not enough people do squats so these kids don’t know better.

I chuckled in agreement as he began to set up one of the racks. He looked at me and said, “Go ahead and set up that bar for you. I’ll use this one so we won’t have to load and unload the weight all day.” I looked at the rack, then him, then the rack again before he said, “I suggest you start with a 45 on each side. That should be a good warm up.” I smiled inside; obviously he knew.

While I was setting up my station, he swiftly set up his bar with three 45 lb plates a side. Then, without even putting on a belt or anything, he started squatting. His reps were deep, his quads going to parallel before he powered himself back up. I watched as he performed two dozen perfect reps, each as easy as the one before. I saw how the blood pumped into his thighs and how the shorts he had slowly rose up his leg as they swelled with raw power and growth.

After about twenty reps, he placed the bar back on its rack and stepped out. Or waddled I should say. He did the type of walk where his legs simply rolled around each other, both of the huge limbs fighting each other for space. The shorts, bunched up near the top of his legs, refused to come back down. The beast just stood there for a moment as I looked at his legs. I could see the separation of each muscle easily seeing as how it looked like there were huge slabs of beef just attached to his leg. Muscle piled on muscle sat before my eyes, quads that hung out almost a foot away from his knees, teardrops that screamed power, calves that looked bigger than a football, hamstrings that looked like cords of wood, all laid before me so beautifully. My eyes traced along his huge legs, shocked at how vascular they were. Veins pressed against the skin, threatening to burst from beneath the skin along with the huge muscle that were just beginning to get pumped.

He turned to me and smiled, "Gotta love squats." I simply smiled dumbly before looking at my bar. It was nothing compared to what he squatted as a warm-up, but still it loomed ahead of me dauntingly. Much to my surprise though, was how he reacted to my hesitation. He simply walked up behind me and said, "C'mon man, it's not going to be that tough. I'll be right here behind ya."

I took a calming breath before I stepped into the rack. Placing my hands on the bar, I stared into the mirror to see one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. I was standing in front of this guy, and he simply outsized me. His shoulders were massive, his lats were wide, his stance and legs were amazingly thick, and everything was simply beautiful. I must've spent a few moments too long staring at the muscled behemoth behind me because I felt a nudge on my shoulder, pushing me forward and under the bar. A twinge of fear passed through me ever so quickly, reminding me that I had been lax on squatting, but another look at the ham sized fist that were on the bar next to mine, the lead pipe forearms that led up to the swelling ball of arm muscle assured me that nothing could go wrong.

I ducked under the bar and settled it gently on my shoulders and traps. Standing up, I walked away from the rack slowly, gently bumping into the immovable wall that supported me in my efforts today. He guided the bar as I walked until I was ready, then placed his giant hands under my arms and tightly against my chest. I felt completely surrounded by his huge muscle. I could smell his scent, a subtle mix of iron, sweat, and body soap. I wanted to simply stand there for hours, but a slight squeeze from the big man jarred me from my inner thoughts. I began to squat, followed closely by the huge muscle man behind me. My knees felt rusty and my form was shaky, but I knew I was going to be ok since the guy that surrounded me was there to help me however I needed. As I lowered my butt, I could feel myself approaching the huge tree trunk that was placed between my legs to stablize me. I couldn't dream how good it was going to feel when I lowered myself on his leg. It felt like a huge hard cock to be honest, a muscled tube of unmovable power that was there to stop me from going too low, but also had the alternate effect of making me think of how good it would feel to have some private time with the giant.

The first rep was rough, the unfamiliarity shining through like a beacon in the night, but he stood behind me, guiding and supporting me as I worked my way back up. As I stood up, I glanced in the mirror as the big man encouraged me, "Eyes ahead, just keep it steady. Concentrate, focus on squeezing the quads as you come up." I obeyed him completely while watching his beautiful body move up and down with me. It was simply amazing and while it was slightly distracting, I did as he said and kept focus on the muscle. The big man was controlling how fast I was going and we did about twenty reps. After the twentith rep, he placed his huge hands on the bar and helped me rack it. I was slightly winded but it felt better than my legs have felt in a long while. He patted me on the soulder and said, "That's great man, you got some great form. That's usually the part that most people are weak at."

I couldn't help but blush at the compliment. I swear, I was getting addicted to his presence. I smiled at him as he walked back to his rack. "Help me put two more 45's on here," he said. I know my jaw must've dropped a little, but I went ahead and loaded up the bar with the weight. He grabbed a weight belt out of his bag and walked slightly over to the mirror. I watched as his shoulders and arms flexed as he pulled tightly on the belt. His shirt was pulled tight against his beautiful body and the belt made his v-taper even more prominent. As much as I wanted not to, I couldn't help but stare. I looked up and saw him smiling at me in the reflection. I wasn't sure how to take it, but his relaxed and jovial attitude made me feel completely secure. He walked up to his bar and confidently put his hands on it. With a few deep breaths, he got under the bar and started to squat. I took a seat on one of the nearby benches and just watched. The ease of the exercise for him was simply mind-blowing. He cranked out twenty perfect reps and racked it with ease. He then got out from under the bar and turned to me. With a smile, he took off the belt and said, "Ok, your set. Let's see how you do with 185."

As I put a 25 lb plate on each side, the big man went over to his bag and started to fish around. I glanced over while I slid on the weight to enjoy the beautiful view of his humongous hamstrings. After a moment, he rose to his full height and turned to me. With a smile, he tossed me a belt and said, "Here little man, this should fit you." I caught it and simply stared at it, then at him. The belt was an old school type belt, leather and very worn. "I used that belt a ton when I was just starting. I've outgrown it, but it should work well for you." I couldn't help but smile. The gesture touched me so deeply. I think he knew how much it meant to me. His grin widened as he walked up to me. He patted me on the shoulder and said, "Ok man, let's pick up the pace a bit."

I smiled up at him and quickly put the belt on. I noticed how worn it was, certain holes were definitely more used than others. I smiled as I noticed that where I was was about the same place where he seemed to start. I felt something indescribable; a feeling that I could do anything. Having that belt on, seeing where he started from and where he was now gave me the confidence that I could do the same thing. And it showed the rest of the workout. I felt a lot more comfortable as I followed the big man around. My form on all the exercises felt better, I pushed myself a bit harder, and I felt that the big man was definitely happy with my lifting. We did squats, hack squats, leg presses, leg extensions and finally seated and standing calf raises.

By the time we were done, I could barely walk. Every third step I stumbled. It was the greatest feeling I had ever had after a workout. Of course, while I was stumbling, the big man was still walking tall and proud. And he had such a pump in ihis legs, I could've sworn they would have exploded at any time. The skin was paper thin, showing off the huge, thick slabs of beef and veins pumping madly. Even his calves were huge, bowling ball sized muscle so huge you could see it from the front. As we walked to the exit, I went to hand him back the belt. He held up his hand and said, "Nah man, you keep it. You can wear it next time we work out."

As I pushed the door open, waiting for him to walk ahead of me, I asked, "Can that be tomorrow?"

He stopped, turned to me, and as he put his huge hand on my shoulder again, smiled. "Sure man, that'll work. I always wanted a training buddy and you seem like a guy who would be serious about working out. How 'bout it man, you wanna get huge like me?"

I smiled. I had a feeling he knew the answer long before he asked the question. Without hesitation, I said, "More than anything man, more than anything."

To be continued?