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  #1   Add to arpeejay's Reputation   Report Post  
Old July 22nd, 2009, 01:07 PM
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Wow (Part 3)

By Richard Jasper

Part 1: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=16270

Part 2: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=16523

Jim wasn't late for his meeting, nor was Roger. Neither was particularly awake, though. They both managed to make it through the day and...

"Hi, there!" Roger said to Jim as he walked into the lobby of the Villager.

Jim stopped in his tracks and stared.

"What are you doing here?"

Roger grinned.

"I'm taking you to the airport, of course."

Jim's jaw dropped. Seeing it, Roger gulped.

"I mean, unless, of course, you don't..."

Jim embraced Roger in a massive bear hug.

"Thanks, man," Jim said. "It's so good to see you again. I felt bad about having to scoot so fast this morning..."

Whew, Roger thought to himself. For a minute there I thought I was gonna have a bad lesbian hair day!

The trip to the airport only took about 20 minutes; Jim held Roger's hand the whole way.

"Uh..." Jim said as they were getting close.

"You realize..."

Roger winced. Uh oh...

"You realize," Jim continued, "that I don't usually go in for the mushy stuff. This isn't like me at all."

The tingling Roger felt was like an electric current passing through every inch of his body at the same time.

"But...?"

Jim audibly gulped.

"I, uh, well," he continued. "I think this is going somewhere. I want it to go somewhere."

Roger squeezed Jim's hand, hard.

"Call me when you get to California, OK?"

* * *

In fact, Jim called him from Dallas. And then from baggage claim at SFO. And then when he reached his condo.

After that, they talked every night for a month. Then they got their phone bills (in 1993 cell phones and free long distance weren't an option, you may recall) and figured out how to use internet chat. They saved the calls for once a week.

They redoubled their efforts in the gym. Jim gave Roger all the details about his diet, his workouts, right down to the sets, reps and poundages, and how much his weight changed from week to week.

For his part, Roger played coy. He'd tell Jim what he'd done and how much he ate but he wouldn't talk weights. Not how much he'd moved, not how much he'd gained. It was driving him crazy.

"I'll be there at Christmas," Roger said. Jim had extended the invitation and Roger didn't need to be asked twice. "You can measure me then."

The day Jim was supposed to pick Roger up at the airport he studied himself in the mirror. He was exactly 20 lbs. heavier than he'd been in Atlanta and despite those extra pounds he was even harder and leaner than before. Jim's chest now stretched the tape to 60 inches, his biceps were 22" cold (closer to 23 1/2" pumped), and his quads were 31 inches.

And what really got him hard was thinking about Roger. He knew the kid was bigger, he had to be, considering the amount he was eating and how much work he was putting in the gym. But how much bigger? As big as Jim had been when they met?

Jim waited outside the gate as the people poured off the plane. His eyes widened when he saw the big man exit, a pro level guy with buzzed hair and black sun glasses, then looked past him, impatiently, to see if he could spot Roger.

"Uh, aren't you going to say 'hello'?"

Jim whipped around.

"Roger?!"

The big man wrapped Jim in a powerful embrace.

"It's about time you noticed me!"

Jim stood back to get a better look.

"Holy fucking shit, Roger!"

It was like looking in the mirror all over again. The shoulders were that wide, the chest that thick, the quads that appeared to have Toyotas strapped to them, the bulging, powerful forearms.

Roger grinned his geeky boy grin -- it was Roger alright!

"You likee?"

"Woof!"

Roger stuck his fist out. Jim bumped it.

Roger handed Jim a cloth tape measure, then pulled off his shirt.

"Whaaaa...?"

Roger arched an eyebrow.

"You've been saying for six months you wanted to measure..."

And so Jim did.

Chest: 59 1/2
Biceps: 22
Waist: 32
Quads: 31
Calves: 21

The crowd at the airport was giving them a wide berth and the pre-Segway, post-donut security cop was looking at the two as if he were trying to make up his mind whether to say something.

Roger pulled his shirt back on and crushed Jim in monster bear hug.

They said it together:

"Wow!"

[I think there's probably another segment. Hope you liked this one! -- rpj]

Last edited by arpeejay; July 22nd, 2009 at 04:38 PM.
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Old July 22nd, 2009, 02:12 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by arpeejay View Post
By Richard Jasper

[Part 2 is here...]

Jim wasn't late for his meeting, nor was Roger. Neither was particularly awake, though. They both managed to make it through the day and...

"Hi, there!" Roger said to Jim as he walked into the lobby of the Villager.

Jim stopped in his tracks and stared.

"What are you doing here?"

Roger grinned.

"I'm taking you to the airport, of course."

Jim's jaw dropped. Seeing it, Roger gulped.

"I mean, unless, of course, you don't..."

Jim embraced Roger in a massive bear hug.

"Thanks, man," Jim said. "It's so good to see you again. I felt bad about having to scoot so fast this morning..."

Whew, Roger thought to himself. For a minute there I thought I was gonna have a bad lesbian hair day!

The trip to the airport only took about 20 minutes; Jim held Roger's hand the whole way.

"Uh..." Jim said as they were getting close.

"You realize..."

Roger winced. Uh oh...

"You realize," Jim continued, "that I don't usually go in for the mushy stuff. This isn't like me at all."

The tingling Roger felt was like an electric current passing through every inch of his body at the same time.

"But...?"

Jim audibly gulped.

"I, uh, well," he continued. "I think this is going somewhere. I want it to go somewhere."

Roger squeezed Jim's hand, hard.

"Call me when you get to California, OK?"

* * *

In fact, Jim called him from Dallas. And then from baggage claim at SFO. And then when he reached his condo.

After that, they talked every night for a month. Then they got their phone bills (in 1993 cell phones and free long distance weren't an option, you may recall) and figured out how to use internet chat. They saved the calls for once a week.

They redoubled their efforts in the gym. Jim gave Roger all the details about his diet, his workouts, right down to the sets, reps and poundages, and how much his weight changed from week to week.

For his part, Roger played coy. He'd tell Jim what he'd done and how much he ate but he wouldn't talk weights. Not how much he'd moved, not how much he'd gained. It was driving him crazy.

"I'll be there at Christmas," Roger said. Jim had extended the invitation and Roger didn't need to be asked twice. "You can measure me then."

The day Jim was supposed to pick Roger up at the airport he studied himself in the mirror. He was exactly 20 lbs. heavier than he'd been in Atlanta and despite those extra pounds he was even harder and leaner than before. Jim's chest now stretched the tape to 60 inches, his biceps were 22" cold (closer to 23 1/2" pumped), and his quads were 31 inches.

And what really got him hard was thinking about Roger. He knew the kid was bigger, he had to be, considering the amount he was eating and how much work he was putting in the gym. But how much bigger? As big as Jim had been when they met?

Jim waited outside the gate as the people poured off the plane. His eyes widened when he saw the big man exit, a pro level guy with buzzed hair and black sun glasses, then looked past him, impatiently, to see if he could spot Roger.

"Uh, aren't you going to say 'hello'?"

Jim whipped around.

"Roger?!"

The big man wrapped Jim in a powerful embrace.

"It's about time you noticed me!"

Jim stood back to get a better look.

"Holy fucking shit, Roger!"

It was like looking in the mirror all over again. The shoulders were that wide, the chest that thick, the quads that appeared to have Toyotas strapped to them, the bulging, powerful forearms.

Roger grinned his geeky boy grin -- it was Roger alright!

"You likee?"

"Woof!"

Roger stuck his fist out. Jim bumped it.

Roger handed Jim a cloth tape measure, then pulled off his shirt.

"Whaaaa...?"

Roger arched an eyebrow.

"You've been saying for six months you wanted to measure..."

And so Jim did.

Chest: 59 1/2
Biceps: 22
Waist: 32
Quads: 31
Calves: 21

The crowd at the airport was giving them a wide berth and the pre-Segway, post-donut security cop was looking at the two as if he were trying to make up his mind whether to say something.

Roger pulled his shirt back on and crushed Jim in monster bear hug.

They said it together:

"Wow!"

[I think there's probably another segment. Hope you liked this one! -- rpj]
Oh, RPJ, This is Sweet! I love the way you put the romance and "mushy stuff" in your stories -- along with the muscle growth!
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  #3   Add to Mad Dog's Reputation   Report Post  
Old July 22nd, 2009, 06:49 PM
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Keep on, Arpeejay! I love your style of story.
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