Are you willing to openly admit you think Marja Lehtonen is beautiful?
I am fortunate to have a wide and diverse audience that spans across 132 countries around the world.
That’s right. 132 different countries! Wow!!!
It continuously humbles me to learn how far across the globe my readership spreads. When I first started this blog a year ago, I had no idea I would have as many hits and page views as I do now. All you readers inspire me to write better content that speaks to what’s in your minds and hearts. Some of you have even said I’m sort of a “spokesperson” for those of you who admire female bodybuilders.
Yikes. A “spokesman?” Talk about a lofty title.
I’ve done my part in sharing my perspectives on having a female muscle fetish. Of course, I’m nowhere close to being done with my writing, but I’m now in the mood to hear more from you, the readers. So I’ve decided to ask for reader submissions.
After thinking about how I want to approach this, I think this is how we’ll proceed:
If you wouldn’t mind, please either e-mail me at ryantakahashi87@yahoo.com or write your responses in the comment section below (or you could publish a post on your own blog!) to the following questions. You don’t have to answer all of them; just answer the ones you feel comfortable answering. Your responses can be as long or as short as you want them to be. I have no limitations or minimal requirements.
If you choose to submit via e-mail, give yourself a pseudonym or maybe even your real name (if you don’t mind being known to the public) that I can refer you to in a future blog post. If you want to give us some brief biographical information, so be it (such as, I’m a 30-something white male from New York City, I’m a 40-something black female from San Diego or I’m a 28-year-old male from Singapore). I get the feeling folks out there might want to know if they can “identity” with whoever is responding to these questions.
Ready? Here we go…
When did you first discover your love for female muscle?
Why are you attracted to (or an admirer of) female bodybuilders?
Have you ever met a female bodybuilder (or a woman with a lot of muscles)? If so, what were the circumstances?
Have you ever engaged in a muscle worship or BDSM session with an FBB? If so, how did it go?
How would you react to someone who says that a guy (or gal) who likes female bodybuilders is strange, weird, kooky in the head, etc.?
Have you ever told anyone that you’re into female muscle?
If you could tell someone who doesn’t understand your attraction to female muscle one thing, what would it be?
Do you ever foresee a situation in the future when women with muscles and people who admire them will become more accepted by society?
I think that’s a good start. Naturally, feel free to add whatever additional thoughts you might have. Don’t limit yourself to just these eight questions. This is just a starting point.
I’m sure Christine Roth would love for you to submit your thoughts to Ryan Takahashi’s blog!
So have at it. I know for a fact that there are a lot of people out there who admire female bodybuilders and love female muscle but are afraid to freely admit it. Trust me; I’m in that exact same boat myself. But I think we can all take some comfort in knowing that we’re not alone; that there are others who share our same admiration but are also embarrassed about it.
I’m not here to change the world. Not by any stretch of the imagination. The primary purposes of this blog are to share my own thoughts, give people something nifty to read and to start a conversation. Conversations are great. They can make us think, let us know what other people are thinking and perhaps even create incremental change on a miniscule scale.
Heck, given the international reach of my blog and other like-minded blogs, a dialogue on a literal global scale is actually a possibility. Consider that for a moment.
The lovely Ginger Martin. Once again, none of the ladies featured here is the woman I had a session with.
So there I was. Tuesday, May 21. Sitting at my desk, staring blankly at my computer screen.
I had a hard time concentrating at work. Getting stuff done was nearly impossible. My mind was somewhere else, far away from whatever I was supposed to be doing at my job.
Thursday at 7 p.m. Got it. But where? In Seattle? Or somewhere outside of Seattle?
But suddenly, while lounging around and superfluously passing the time, I receive a much anticipated e-mail from my personal account.
It’s from GFBB! Yes!!!
Up to this point, I felt like GFBB and I have developed good e-mail chemistry, if such a thing is possible. We’ve communicated clearly back and forth, there’s been no misunderstandings (wiring the deposit money into her account went smoothly) and she’s even cracked a joke or two toward me. It definitely appears as though this arrangement is starting off on the right foot.
I’m guessing she probably gets a lot of creepy messages from random guys (and ladies) asking her to do some ridiculous things. Fetish activities, threesomes, choking (to the point of near death), posing for photos/videos, role playing and probably even straight up sex. So it was refreshing to hear that she thinks of this as less of a “sexual” arrangement and more of a “business-like” proposition.
Kathy Johansson wearing very sexy red lingerie.
Her e-mail message lets me know which hotel she’s staying at during her Seattle stop. And guess what? The hotel is less than three miles away from my apartment! Holy cow! She’s staying within a stone’s throw of where I live. This definitely bodes well.
GFBB gives me her phone number and tells me to text her when I arrive at the hotel. Alright, gotcha. I can do that.
The next two days flew by quicker than a Tokyo bullet train running away from Godzilla. I decided to take a “sick day” that Thursday because I don’t want any distractions leading up to this session. I work fairly far away from my apartment and there are times when really bad traffic, combined with terrible weather, can make my commute long and arduous. I didn’t want any emotional or physical disruptions on the day of my first ever session with a gorgeous female bodybuilder. So it seemed clear to me that being “ill” that day was justifiable.
I woke up on Thursday morning feeling fresh and alive. Butterflies weren’t swarming in my stomach yet, but I could definitely tell there was a certain electrical charge flowing through my system. Let’s face it; this doesn’t happen all the time. And a guy is totally allowed to be nervous in anticipation of his first time, right?
Shawn Tan is tall, elegant, beautiful and sexy as hell. Can we all agree?
I ate breakfast and headed out to the gym to work out. I understand I could never look as amazing as GFBB, but it never hurts to get a good workout in to get my blood flowing and to calm my nerves. I don’t normally to go the gym on afternoons, so I saw a whole different crowd than I’m used to seeing. Mostly retired folks and stay-at-home-moms.
It was leg day. Yuck.
On the agenda for the day were squats, lunges and other leg machine exercises. During my entire workout all I could think about was me – yours truly – stroking GFBB’s strong legs, caressing her biceps and fondling her breasts. Judging from pictures I’ve seen of her, she definitely has a bountiful pair of breasts. This is without a doubt something I was looking forward to experiencing!
The gorgeous Kathy Connors demonstrating the nerdy/sexy dynamic.
After my grueling workout (leg day is always grueling. Just ask anyone who actually does it!), I then walked over to the grocery store across the street from the gym. At the store I bought a nice bottle of wine to give to her as a gift. I figure it’s the least I can do to demonstrate how thankful I am that she’s willing to let me have a session with her. I then went to the bank in the same complex to withdraw the rest of the money I need to pay her.
Upon returning home, it suddenly hit me. I’m about to participate in my first ever session with a gorgeous female bodybuilder. Don’t get me wrong; I know I’m about to do this (I’ve had this planned for at least a month), but it wasn’t until this moment, with a bottle of wine and an envelope full of cash in my possession, that it really started to sink in.
I lay on my bed and tried to think of nothing. Not think about playing hooky from work. Not think about whether this session will be a disappointment or not. Not think about what she’ll think of me once she meets me. Not even think about what I’ll eat for dinner after the session is over. I tried to think of nada, nothing, zilch.
But I couldn’t. I had butterflies dancing in my stomach (they were probably participating in a drunken rave by now), my blood pressure skyrocketing through the roof and enough nervous energy of fifty chorus girls making their Broadway debut. I had to do something in the next hour to pass the time…
After publishing this new post, I looked at my phone and saw it was a little after 6 p.m. My appointment with GFBB is at 7 p.m. The venue is less than three miles away. I could get there in ten minutes. Theoretically, I could leave here at 6:30 and still be early. But darn it, I have to leave now! All this fiddling around is making me go insane.
Besides, what if I get a flat tire? What if my car magically runs out of gas? What if there’s some catastrophic accident on the road that will delay me for forty minutes? Yes, I should leave now just to play it safe.
Damn. Logic has completely left my brain. All that’s left are nothing but an aching libido and flaming nerves. I should definitely leave now or risk suffering a subdural hematoma right here in my apartment.
It never hurts to show a picture of Kim Perez, does it? No, it certainly doesn’t.
Before departing, I check my e-mail one last time to make sure I have her room number. Room 132. Okay…I’ve looked at Google Maps enough times to know where this hotel is like the back of my hand, so I’m golden on that front.
Alright. Time to go!
No more than twelve minutes later, I’m sitting in the parking lot of the hotel where GFBB is staying. Yikes! This shit is getting real! And to think that this Beautiful Muscle Goddess is a within shouting distance of where I live. Hot damn. I feel like a teenage girl about to meet a heartthrob pop star for the first time. If my voice starts to squeak indeterminately and I get the sudden urge to pass out, I’ll know why.
What time is it? Hmmmmmm…6:19.
6:20.
6:21.
6:22.
6:23.
6:24.
Holy hell. Could time move any slower?!!!
Seriously. Time could not move fast enough. As I sat there, in my car, on an overcast day in the Pacific Northwest, I began to think: Is she with a client right now at this moment? If not, could I text her right now and perhaps get a good fifteen or twenty minutes of extra session time with her? Speaking of which, is she a clock-watcher or is she very loose with how long these things last? Am I her last appointment of the day or does she have three or four other horny guys scheduled later this evening? Could some of her other clients be sitting in their cars right now, twiddling their thumbs, just like me? What if–
You know what? Screw it! I’m going to text her. I know it’s early (by the time I make this decision, it’s about 6:45), but what the hell? I’m here, aren’t I? I was told to text her just as soon as I got here, so I might as well follow along with her directions.
Nikki Fuller is one of my all-time favorites. Need I explain why?
So, I texted her to let her know I was here.
A few moments later, she replies, saying “Ok u can come to my room now.”
Well, if the lady says so…
I got out of my car, locked the door and made the “long” trek (it felt long, okay!!!) to the entrance of the hotel. Thankfully, there weren’t a whole lot of people around, except for an older Asian couple who looked as though they just arrived in town. I quickly entered the hotel, intentionally avoided making eye contact with the front desk staff and took a sharp right turn toward her room.
On one hand, I want to look like I belonged here; but on the other hand, if they don’t remember me, would they ask me what business I had being here? Better play it safe and speed walk while keeping my head down. It probably isn’t too often when a random dude comes in to their premises to meet a strange woman for a sexually-charged muscle worship session.
Walking down the long corridor, complete with a dark red carpet and Seattle-themed artwork, I decided to use the bathroom before knocking on her door. Whenever I get really nervous, I get the urge to pee. Better do it now versus wasting time later using the toilet during my session!
This is Sarah Hayes. Baby got back, n’est-ce pas?
Minutes later, I left the bathroom and proceeded forward to meet my Fate. I felt like a death row inmate making his last trip down the prison hallway before being electrocuted. Overdramatic? Of course. But if there’s ever an occasion to be unapologetically theatrical, now is the time.
I stood in front of room #132 and took a deep breath. This is it, Ryan. This is the moment you get to meet up close and personal (and hopefully, get really personal later on) with a famous female bodybuilder who’s strong, gorgeous, accomplished, well-regarded and amicable. This is it, buddy!
Another deep breath.
Exhale.
Extend hand.
Make a fist.
Knock on the door.
Wait.
The door then opens.
It creeks open ominously, almost romantically, as if I were a lost prince exploring a magical castle in a Disney movie.
I peeked my head inside to see who opened the door. Is it her? Is it–
The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi 