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Just returned from freshman orientation...
Omigod! My "senior buddy" is the biggest effing hunk on the planet! What can I say? He's tall, *lots* of curly blond hair, blue eyes, a short oh-so-sexy beard! And, lawsy, the boy is built! I'm talking big time bodybuilder big!
I stayed to the very end, after just about everyone else had left and I was the only one left in his "buddy group." (Where DO they come up with this crap?) I finally got up the nerve to ask him the two questions that had been on my mind since I laid eyes on him -- how tall are you? how much do you weigh? I kinda stuttered them out, I was so nervous!
Amazingly, he grinned at me -- I think he liked having me ask! In fact, I half think he *winked* at me! At any rate, he pulled in his incredibly flat tummy, squared those awesome shoulders, and threw out that massive chest before saying...
"Dude! 6'2 and 240 lbs.!"
Did I mention he's from California?
Did I mention I blurted "Shee-it, man!" and then turned beet red?
Oh, yeah, and his name is Chris...
Enough for now. First day of college classes in 6 1/2 hours!
Classes were good! History is a cinch, I may try something more advanced next semester. The Poli Sci prof is a hoot! Calc sucks, but that's about what I expected. And the French TA is this really cute Jewish girl from Brooklyn. She's all of 21 and I kinda think she and I may have 1 or 2 things in common...
But the best thing is that I had dinner with Chris tonight! I was heading across the Quad, figuring I'd check out the library again, when I heard, "Yo, Lil Dude!" directly behind me! I whirled around and literally bounced off of Chris -- jeez, he's SOOO big!
"Whoa fella!" he said, steadying me by putting those two big, beefy hands on my shoulders. Cripes, I tought I was gonna explode just from that!
"Chris! you scared the shit out of me, man!"
"Why so jumpy, Lil Dude?"
Which I immediately pounced on.
"What's this 'Lil Dude' stuff about, dammit?"
He got a big grin and said, real slow, "Well....."
I rolled my eyes.
"Well, yeah, I'm three inches shorter than you are and, well..."
"And I weigh about half again as much as you do...?" he finished.
I did some quick mental calculations.
"Uh, make that 70% more, you big oaf! You outweigh me by just about exactly 100 lbs.!"
He arched his eyebrows. Jeez, I didn't know *eyebrows* could be so damned sexy!
"Is that all? You look bigger than that..."
I blushed, of course.
Which is when he asked me about joining him for dinner.
I met him in front of Cox at 6 p.m., just like I said I would. He was hanging out with these other big guys and at first I didn't want to go up to him. Let's face it -- I *am* a "Lil Dude," whether I like it or not! &*^%$#@
But then *he* spotted me, told the other guys "buh bye!" and came over to *me*! Am I sounding starry eyed or what?
I was suprised at how many questions he asked while we were eating -- what it was like growing up on the Gulf Coast (he's seen the Atlantic and grew up on the Pacific, never been to the Gulf), what Mom and Dad are like, what it's like having a 12 y.o. kid sister (he has 1 older brother), etc.
And then it was MY turn to ask questions.
"Well, what *I* want to know is -- how'd you get so damned big!"
"I knew that would be your first question!"
I blushed, yet again.
"Is it that obvious?" I wailed, burying my head in my hands.
"You know what?" he said. "I wasn't much bigger than you are when I started lifting and that was just 4 years ago!"
I must have sat there with my mouth hanging open.
"Yep, God's honest truth. My first day of fall semester of my senior year of high school I hit the gym weighing 160 lbs. soaking wet."
Then the s.o.b. leaned back in his chair and stretched. Sproing! I thought I was gonna crap my britches. His shirt pulled up just enough for me to see his obliques and that faint little blonde treasure trail heading south from his belly button. And the rest of it, Jesus! Those abs! Those pecs! Those arms!
"Yo, Lil Dude! You still there?"
Why the hell did God invent blushing? Is He a sadist or something?
"It's like this, Lil Dude," he went on like I was being perfectly normal and natural. "You wanna get big, you gotta eat big, lift big, don't overtrain and get plenty of rest."
"Is that all?"
Amazingly, HE started blushing!
"Uh, well, there's *also* motivatoin, y'know, and for some people there are different kinds of motivation. For some of us it, uh, needs to be, uh, more special than for others. Still you gotta have it," he said, emphatically, suddenly regaining his confidence (where'd it go in the first place?), "or you ain't gonna grow."
I looked at him a minute. Hemmed and hawed. I can't believe I'm such a dope sometimes.
"Uh, well, uh, Chris..."
"Yeah, Lil Dude?"
"Can you teach me how to grow?"
He gave me this huge shit eating grin! I'm surprised I didn't turn into a puddle on the spot.
"Meet me at the entrance to the gym at 7 a.m. sharp," he said.
"You wanna grow!"
"You know I do!"
"Then 7 a.m. it is!"
Which is why I'm hitting the hay NOW!
That was amazing!
I kinda think Chris thought it was amazing, too!
Somehow I managed to drag my a-- out of bed and meet him at the gym right on time. I had on my new gym shorts and my loose tank top and my new tube socks and my shiny new sneakers.
I wasn't really expecting his reaction...
"Woah, Lil Dude!" he said when I walked up. "I didn't know you were such a furball!"
Without thinking about it I whapped him on that huge effing arm of his! Cripes, man, it's bigger than my thigh!
"Ow!" he bellowed, although I figure it probably felt like a moth had landed on him from his point of view. "Why'd you do that?"
"Furball?!" I demanded.
"Chill, Lil Dude!" he laughed. "I was paying you a compliment! Look at me..."
He pulled his shirt half off -- I thought I would die!
"I'm as smooth as a baby's butt! Damn, what I wouldn't give for a rug of chest hair like yours!"
"Well, now that you mention it, I *am* pretty advanced in that regard!"
He turned me around, looking me up and down.
"And none on your back, lucky dude! Chicks hate that! And your arms and legs are just right -- not too much, not too little."
I sighed a little. Chicks?
But then he made up for it.
"Y'know, Lil Dude, you've got *great* proportions. For such a little fella you've got nice wide shoulders and great legs. It's just that waist that's so tiny and you can't complain about that!"
About that time we made it to the weight room. Yikes! What a palace! I didn't know half of what that stuff was, but I wrote down all the names as Chris walked me around -- Hammer Strength, Cybex, Precor, Life Cycle, Nautilus, free weights, squat rack, flat bench, on and on.
And then he showed me how to use it.
I was kind of afraid that I'd get a woody watching him work out. It was effing gorgeous! But for some reason I was *totally* focused for once. Weights, weights and more weights, that was all I could think about.
We started with bench press. Turns out the bar itself weighs 45 lbs.! Chris put on a couple of 25 lb. weights and said, "here, try this on for size." When I hit my 12th "rep," as he called it, he told me to stop. "Hmmph! You're stronger than you look!" It's a good thing I was holding onto the bar or I might have floated off to the ceiling! "Let's put some more on."
He took the 25s off and put on the next size plate, which were the 35s. Same thing. Then he took off the 35s and put on the biggest ones, which are the 45s, I now know, the biggest they have. Same thing.
"You're sure you're not tired yet?" he asked. I shook my head vigorously -- for whatever reason, I was wired this a.m., first time in my life!
"OK, enough of that," he said. "More than three sets and we'll be overtraining you..."
Then we did shoulders, then arms -- "tired yet?" -- and then back and then legs. Same story with each of them.
I don't know where the time went but when we finally stopped it was was already 9 o'clock and we both had classes at 10.
"Lil Dude, you just don't get tired, do you?"
I shrugged my shoulders. I guess not!
Before we finished up entirely though, Chris wanted to try the bench again.
This time he *started* with the 45s. Same story as last time. Then he added a couple of 25s, took them off and added 35s, took them off and added 45s. Same thing. 12 reps, "perfect form," he kept saying. I didn't sweat, so I guess I really didn't work that hard.
"Woo hoo!" he said, finally.
"Doin' good, boss?"
"You're doin' fucking amazing, Lil Dude! That's 225 lbs. Thre are guys half again as big as you who have trouble with that much weight!"
I thought I would walk on air.
And then he said the scariest words in the English language.
"Ready to hit the showers...?"
Talk about stuttering -- crap!
"I, uh, uh, I, well, I'm gonna shower at the dorm, if you don't mind. I didn't bring all my stuff..."
The bastard had the biggest grin on his face but he covered it up with his hand.
"Uh, OK, alright. But see you again tomorrow at 7, right?"
Which is all of 8 hours from now. I've GOT to go to bed.
But I'm still wired.
It's been like that all day. I've felt like I was on speed or something, not that I've got a "fuckin'" clue what that's really like. Three bottles of Sudafed, maybe? All day it's been like I was plugged into some portable generator. Zing!
And, y'know, I've always had nice little muscles but daaayum! they felt good today. Like they might actually be thinking about growing!
Which makes me kinda horny, just thinking about.
That and Chris and...
Maybe I'll hit the hay after all! G'night, Diary!
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