Essay – Page 9 – The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi

Female Bodybuilders are the Original Hipsters

The beautiful Alina Popa, one of my personal favorites. On a side note, you'd be surprised how difficult it is to find photos of FBBs wearing glasses! — The beautiful Alina Popa, one of my personal favorites. On a side note, you’d be surprised how difficult it is to find photos of FBBs wearing glasses!

Question: How do you drown a hipster?

Answer: In the mainstream.

Another question: Why did the hipster burn his tongue while eating pizza?

Answer: Because he began eating it before it became cool.

Last question: Why did the hipster stop swimming in the ocean?

Answer: Because it was too current.

No doubt you’ve heard these jokes before. If you haven’t, you obviously don’t spent enough time on the Internet. But for those of you who love to waste your valuable free time, I’d venture a guess that you should be familiar with the social phenomenon of labeling people who are (supposedly) anti-establishment, anti-pop culture and anti-cool as being “hipsters.”

According to Wikipedia, a “hipster” is defined as “a postmodern subculture of young, urban middle-class adults and older teenagers that first appeared in the 1990s and became particularly prominent in the 2010s, being derived from earlier movements in the 1940s. The subculture is associated with indie music and alternative music, a varied non-mainstream fashion sensibility (including vintage and thrift store clothes), progressive or independent political views, and alternative lifestyles.”

Alternate lifestyles. Independent ways of thinking. Doing things most other people don’t. Being involved in a subculture that is as far away from the “mainstream” as you can get.

In other words, marching to the beat of your own drum. Going against the grain. You get it.

After much thought and deep contemplation, I’ve come to a radical conclusion – one that sounds strange on the surface but actually makes a ton of sense once you get down to analyzing it from every possible angle. Are you ready for this?

Female bodybuilders are the original hipsters.

No, seriously. They are. Think about it for a moment.

Female bodybuilders exist outside the, ahem, “mainstream.” When we think about the typical form of a human female, certainly one with the physique of an NFL linebacker shouldn’t initially come to mind. A woman with shoulders the size of bowling balls isn’t exactly typical of what you see every day. Seeing a lady strut around with arms strong enough to bend steel is a rare sight.

How often do you run into a female homo sapien with bulky legs, a broad back, six-pack abs, a wide chest, burly arms and veins popping out of her skin? If this happens often to you, please let me know where you live!

But outside of what you see on her exterior, consider what a female bodybuilder has to do in her personal life. She has to dedicate her life (not a portion of her life, but her entire life) toward her sport (or art) in ways that go well beyond what any casual hobby would ask you to do. Bodybuilding isn’t a leisurely activity like knitting or scrapbooking. It’s a lifestyle in every sense of the word.

She has to radically change the way she eats, works, exercises, sleeps, drinks and schedules her life. She has to make a commitment to live her life in a way that’s contrary to how most of us conduct ours. She even does this for reasons that most of us wouldn’t understand.

Why torture yourself? Why endure so many long hours at the gym? Why give up eating sweets, fatty foods and other delicious goods? For what end?

And why the hell would you want to LOOK like that?

These are questions that “mainstream” folks ask all the time. These are thoughts that people who aren’t “into that sort of thing” contemplate whenever they encounter a woman with biceps like Alina Popa or legs like Julie Bourassa. Expectedly, you have to be more knowledgeable about the world of bodybuilding and athletics in order to genuinely appreciate what she has to go through to look the way she does.

The beautiful Autumn Raby. You'd be surprised how difficult it was to find photos of FBBs wearing glasses! — Autumn Raby on a bed. Need I say more?

Additionally, bodybuilding is truly a subculture. They have their own slang. Their own events. Their own hierarchies. Their own social rules (both spoken and unspoken). They have their own clubs. Their own circles of friendships. Outsiders. Insiders. Those who are actual bodybuilders. Those who are pretenders. Those who are wannabes. Those who wish to be a bodybuilder but don’t want to lift that heavy-ass weight (Ronnie Coleman reference, anybody?). These are common traits of any subculture.

I will admit I am not informed enough about the world of competitive bodybuilding to write extensively about it. I am not an insider. I’ve only met a small handful of truly professional (and hardworking amateur) bodybuilders, both male and female. But I know enough to know what I don’t know. I know that unless you’re actually a legitimate bodybuilder, you’ll have no idea what it’s like to be one.

This is what a subculture looks like. I am merely an outsider looking in. Many of you are, too.

But what’s even more thought-provoking is when we discuss specifically the world of female bodybuilding, which is a subculture within a subculture. I could go on for days writing about female muscle fetishism, women who wrestle men, men who love to be dominated by muscular women, women who travel the world to book “sessions” with male (and female) fans, muscle worship, BDSM, D/s roleplaying, sthenolagnia, the psychology of admiring female muscle and plenty of other topics related to this sub-subculture.

What this really means, in a nutshell, is that female bodybuilders are so radically different, they belong in a category of their own.

This should be justification for why female bodybuilders are the original hipsters. Alternate lifestyles? Check. Existing outside the mainstream? Check. Being part of a sub-subculture that’s so hidden most people in the general population probably couldn’t even tell you the name of a single FBB? Triple check!

But let’s look at this from a slightly different viewpoint. Consider how a female bodybuilder is treated by others. Consider how people around her behave when she’s in their presence. Consider what it’s like to exist in a society where you can genuinely be considered “unique.”

People stare at you. Some are disgusted by you. Some are uncontrollably mesmerized by you. Men are jealous of you. Women are flabbergasted by you and can’t stop wondering why you would willingly choose to be that “big.” Children are confused by you. There are those who think you’re weird. Others are turned on by you after one mere look and can’t stop obsessing over you. And all of the above cannot look away no matter how hard they try.

Am I generalizing a bit? Of course. But let me generalize to my heart’s delight.

Considering the world an FBB lives in, it’s not hard to see why more women don’t pursue this lifestyle. Personally, as an admirer of female muscle, I would love nothing more than for more women to look like Deidre Pagnanelli, Lauren Powers, Denise Masino, BrandiMae, Monica Mollica and Yvette Bova. But sadly, these fantastic and gorgeous lasses are the exception and not the rule.

If women with big biceps were the norm, I think a lot of problems with misogyny in our world would disappear (not completely, but significantly). If society at large openly encouraged women to lift at the gym instead of killing themselves doing endless cardio, we would be a lot healthier overall. Eating disorders would slowly regress. Sexism would dissipate. The dynamics of gender-based violence would change (I’m not an expert to say in what regards).

Random fitness girl on Instagram. Does anyone know her name?

Therefore, as we all know, this is indeed a rarity. Which explains why female bodybuilders are as counterculture as you can get. A physically strong woman goes against every gender stereotype our culture has engrained inside it. A woman who’s stronger than a man only serves, as many of us unfortunately believe, to emasculate him. A woman with big muscles is a traitor to her gender. She will inevitably scare away men who are intimidated by her statuesque physique.

We’ve all heard this before in some form or fashion, haven’t we?

But I don’t feel that way. And most of you probably don’t either. But enough do to discourage most women from ever picking up a dumbbell at the gym. What a shame that is.

The reason why I’m asserting that female bodybuilders are the original hipsters is because, I’d argue, an FBB is truly countercultural. Unlike those who claim to be “countercultural,” a muscular woman proves it every day of her life.

There’s the conventional wisdom that someone who’s countercultural can’t actually admit to being countercultural. To self-label makes you vulnerable to being attacked.

You’re not really anti-establishment. You just want others to think you are so you can fit into certain social circles. Postmodernism, if my understanding is correct, is a worldview that aims to defy traditional labels and establish a more subjective manner of describing things. So anyone who claims to be a hipster really isn’t one.

This is why an FBB is really the only group of people who can legitimately claim to be outside the mainstream. Whether they openly admit to it or not, they are regardless. For all the reasons I just outlined, being a muscular woman is as far from “normal” as you can get. It’s an authentic alternative lifestyle that is immune to “wannabes” and “posers.”

Being an FBB isn’t something you can casually “be.” Either you are or you aren’t.

Think of it this way. How many of us went through a “hippie” phase during college? Even if you never attended college, maybe you had a similar experience at a different point in your life. The point being, remember that time in your life when you had a so-called intellectual and pseudo-philosophical “awakening” where you became the biggest anti-Establishmentarian in the known universe?

If so, how many of you eventually scrapped most of that crap once you entered the “real world” and saw things to be somewhere in between? I’m guessing a lot of you…myself included.

Another cute Instagram fitness girl. Yowza!

Most of us love the idea of being a hipster (or hippie, if you’re from a different era) more than actually being a hipster. We fell in love with the snarky glamour of being “different” instead of embracing the unique facets inherent in whatever makes you truly different. Do you listen to indie rock because you actually like the music…or because people around you are listening to it and you want to fit in?

College Hippie: Hey, Bob! Do you consider yourself an anti-Bourgeois, Proletarian-supporting Marxist liberal free-thinking “citizen of the Earth” socialist flower child?

Bob: Uh, sure. Why not?

This isn’t so with female bodybuilders. You can’t pretend to be one. You can’t put up a façade of being one, unlike people who like to think of themselves as a “don’t-tread-on-me” beatnik. You can’t fake being muscular. Your muscles are either big…or not big. Period.

But the problem with being anti-mainstream is that you never make any attempts to become, you know, mainstream. I really wish female bodybuilding and athletics would become more mainstream. That would be spectacular! Imagine turning on your TV, opening a magazine or glancing at a fashion ad in the mall and seeing ladies like Autumn Raby instead of Giselle Bundchen. I have nothing against Mrs. Tom Brady, but come on! Let’s give women like Ms. Raby some love!

All of us female muscle fans would cheer that on. Trust me.

So I guess this is one aspect to this discussion that I hope isn’t true. I don’t want female bodybuilders, athletes and fitness professionals to hide underground. I also don’t want society to reject them for being who they are. I want mainstream acceptance of female muscle, admiring female muscle and the idea of women lifting at the gym. This is what I want.

If it suddenly became “cool” for a woman to have toned muscles on her body instead of just skin and bones, then count me in!

I’d be as cool as a cucumber.

If I Don’t Already Like Female Bodybuilders, Should I?

There are a lot of people out there who love female muscle.

A lot.

Whether you consider your cup of tea to be women bodybuilders, female athletes, fitness and figure competitors, lady personal trainers or muscular porn actresses, the existence of society’s affinity toward female muscle is undeniable. Granted, it’s not a huge portion of society, but there is little doubt that many folks around the world share this particular attraction.

The reasons why a man (or woman) would like female bodybuilders are numerous. After all, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, n’est-ce pas?

But a far more interesting question to discuss is as follows: If I don’t already like female bodybuilders, should I?

In other words, if you don’t consider women like Marina Lopez, Jana Linke-Sippl or Emery Miller as sexy as a Victoria’s Secret supermodel, should you? Do you have any obligation whatsoever to at least consider the possibility that a woman with muscles can be beautiful – not grotesque, disgusting or repulsive? Or are you justified in making your conclusion and never reconsidering your position?

I am of the opinion that whatever (or whomever) you find attractive is your opinion and yours alone. You have every right to find a particular person beautiful and the person standing next to them not as beautiful. But I also believe you should never limit yourself. You should never shut out any possibility without sampling what it could be like first. That’s true for many things in life.

While I challenge everyone who finds female muscle hideous to strongly reconsider their opinion, I also don’t want to guilt trip anybody to move to “our side.” I could make a socio-feminist argument in support of female bodybuilding. I could get defensive. I could get mean and nasty. But that would be counter-productive. No one ever won an argument by shouting, right?

One of my favorite Facebook pages is Women Who are Big, Thick, Dense and Muscular are Hott and Sexy Heaven. Don’t let the extravagant and hyperbolic page name turn you away. While I still haven’t figured out why “Hott” is spelled with two t’s, I can forgive them because they post every single day really awesome photos of female bodybuilders. It’s always the first page I check every morning. I highly recommend you “like” their page if you’re an active Facebook user.

Just make sure you don’t post too many mean spirited comments. You’ll almost always receive negative feedback, mostly from the page’s administrator (whoever that is). Though I think they tend to get a little too defensive toward undesirable comments, trying to keep the conversation positive is a noble goal.

So if you’re ever feeling like people are negatively judging you for your love of female muscle, countering that with a judgmental attitude of your own doesn’t do anyone any good. Fighting fire with fire isn’t always a prudent strategy. As difficult as it can be, sometimes you have to take mean, sexist comments in stride and counter it with grace, humility and intellectual integrity.

Angela Salvagno's sexiness is off the charts. — Angela Salvagno’s sexiness is off the charts.

I suppose the answer to my proposed question is “no.” You don’t have to like female bodybuilders if you don’t already. You have no requirement to do so. In your life’s Bucket List, looking at an image of an FBB and thinking to yourself, “Gee, she looks great!” shouldn’t have to be on it.

However, this point of contention does come with a caveat. You do have to respect those who do and not try to embarrass them about it.

And, don’t assume that people who love female muscle are weird, deranged, psychopathic, psychologically damaged, bizarre, sociopathic or any other insulting label.

Here’s an example. Some people think guys (and gals) like us are somehow unhealthy. Some get the impression that we need help, that our attraction can be dangerous, that we’re crossing over into the perilous territory of “obsession.”

Don't you wish you had abs like Cindy Landolt? — Don’t you wish you had abs like Cindy Landolt?

Personally, my attraction to female bodybuilders isn’t even close to being an obsession. So never assume that it is. Obsessions can be unhealthy. Obsessions can lead to squandering money, damaging relationships, destroying your work and family life and consuming everything that is good about you. Like the issue of substance abuse, your obsession can take on a life of its own and create a monster that can be really tough to slay. But, and I want to make this a point of emphasis, this is often the stereotype associated to people who like female muscle.

We’re addicts. We need help. It will eventually consume our lives.

While any mild attraction can morph into something terrible, I don’t believe liking female muscle is any unhealthier than being into BDSM. Lots of people are into that sort of thing. You probably know dozens of people; family members, neighbors, friends, coworkers, the cute lady who makes your coffee every morning at Starbucks; who are turned on by bondage, discipline, sado-masochism, etc. You just don’t know it.

And if it’s someone close to you, you probably would rather be kept in the dark!

So, even if you did find out somehow, would that change your opinion of them? Would you choose to move out of your neighborhood when you find out the nice couple living across the street from you likes to spank each other occasionally? If so, I’d advise you never peek into your neighbor’s bedrooms at night to find out (not that you should for any other reason!).

Is Alina Popa the most beautiful woman in the world? Yes. Yes, she is.

I suppose this blog post is aimed at two audiences: Those who like female muscle and feel defensive about it and those who do not and think that people who do are “strange.” Unfamiliarity, strained egos and the unwillingness to tune out antagonistic chatter can cause this animosity between us. We shouldn’t let this happen, of course.

So if you don’t already like female bodybuilders and female muscle, you don’t have to. There! I just answered the $1 million question. Likewise, if someone does prefer ladies with meat on their bones, just acknowledge that everyone is entitled to their own tastes and move on with your life.

I try to write articles that can create a dialogue. Thus far, I’m blessed to have a strong readership who reads all the material I post on here. Thank you so much! Without readers, a blog is meaningless.

I’m also aware that lots of people share my articles on social media sites like Facebook and Twitter. Once again, thank you for spreading my words across the large galaxy that is the Internet. I never imagined when I first started this blog that I would be as “popular” as I am now (so to speak).

A lot of folks find my blog randomly through search engines. I believe this is proof that there are plenty of people out there who are just as curious about having a female muscle fetish as I am. Some of you have an incomprehensible admiration for female muscle and can’t explain why. Others of you know someone who shares this attraction and are baffled as to why they feel this way.

I need Ludmila Kolesnikova to protect me in battle. Seriously.

We come from dissimilar paths in life and from all corners of the world. But we all share one thing in common, regardless of which side of the fence we’re on: We’re all captivated, albeit in different ways, by a woman with muscles. They entice us. They provoke us. They stir thoughts and emotions within us that nothing else can. It’s unexplainable. It’s irrational. It’s undeniable.

Why is Alina Pope one of the most beautiful women in the world? Why does she grab my attention in a manner a Playboy playmate can’t match? I could write a whole blog post about Miss Popa alone if I want to. Seriously. I might actually do that.

But to attempt to articulate my love for Alina Popa would bring up a mountain load of follow up questions to the skeptical eye. Why do you like a woman who looks like that? Why don’t you like smaller women instead? Do you actually think the veins in her arms are sexy? Did your mother excessively punish you when you were a child?

Perhaps we could hold a Socratic dialogue and really get to the root of why men like me like ladies like her. We could do this over a couple of beers and plenty of chips and salsa. We might actually learn something about each other.

I’m game. Are you?

Incomprehensible Admiration: The Internal Thoughts of a Female Muscle Lover

I dare you to look away at Victoria Dominguez. Bet you can't! — I dare you to look away at Victoria Dominguez. Bet you can’t!

I consider myself to be a rational, level-headed guy. I don’t jump to conclusions, I don’t make knee jerk reactionary decisions and I don’t dive head first into new, uncharted waters.

So what’s coming over me lately?

And by “lately,” I’m referring to the past year. And the past month. But mostly, I’m referring to my whole perspective on sexuality, women and female bodybuilders ever since I discovered I have a female muscle fetish.

Anyone who’s read this blog and other like-minded ones know what we’re talking about. It’s strange being in love with muscular women. It’s weird. It’s socially taboo. It’s discouraged to talk about this openly around polite company. Yet, as any of you who love strong women can speak to, it’s something that can’t leave our minds.

It’s as though we think about muscular women 24/7. It’s an attraction that grapples you and never lets you go.

Of course, we don’t actually think about female bodybuilders every second of our lives. This is hyperbole to make a point. The point is this: Having a female muscle fetish makes us so irrational!

Let’s use me as an example. In the past year, I’ve started a blog, created a fictional narrative around a fantasy version of myself (The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi series), written a series of anecdotal articles about female muscle fetishism that’s been read by people around the globe, arranged and participated in a muscle worship session with a genuine female bodybuilder and even become more comfortable with my own body (despite lingering insecurities).

Nothing about this is rational. Nothing about this makes sense. Nothing about this is characteristic of me. I’m doing things I’d never dreamed of doing. Contacting a complete stranger and paying her to “play” with me in a hotel room? Yikes! Who would have thought?

None of this is something I would have done four years ago. Or three years ago. Hell, even two years ago. This is all completely new to me. All of it. I’ve written for blogs before, but none as personal or as deep as this one.

You have to admit this dynamic photo of Amanda Latona steals your breath away.

I’ve developed what I call an “Incomprehensible Admiration” for female bodybuilders. It’s like a lightning bolt that hit me from the sky. It’s like a fire that burns deep within my soul. It’s like a voice inside my head, pulling and pushing me in all directions till I find myself somewhere I’ve never been before. It’s a lot like that.

Ironically, I’m sure none of this makes sense. I’m sure you’re asking yourself: Golly, Ryan. What point are you trying to make here? To be truthful, I have no clue. Seriously. I have no clue. I love writing about female muscle, thinking about female muscle, looking at photos of muscular women and fantasizing about making love to a muscular woman. None of this is rational. None of this is scientific. None of this can be explained coherently.

None of it. Seriously. None. Of. It.

In the past, I’ve expressed theories on why I have a female muscle fetish. I’ve explained why guys like me love women that society tends to view as “disgusting,” “gross” and “unfeminine.” I’ve explained common misconceptions about men who like FBBs as well as admitting how strange it is. I’ve acknowledged all this, yet there’s still more I want to write about. I can’t stop thinking about my love for female muscle. This is not a “phase” that will go away anytime soon.

Tatianna Butler definitely spends a lot of time at the gym to get this amazing physique.

Internally, this is nearly impossible to explain clearly and succinctly. So I won’t even try. I’m just rambling at this point, so who cares if I continue to not make sense? I highly doubt any of you will judge me too harshly!

Let me put it this way: They say love makes you do stupid things. We all remember back to our first crush. That boy or girl you couldn’t keep your eyes off of and couldn’t stop thinking about. Remember him or her? I most certainly do.

Remember how odd this made you feel? Remember how dysfunctional you became whenever you were around this person? How you could hardly breathe, think, behave or move? Do you recall your heart melting whenever you were around this person – how you yearned to get as close to this person as possible, yet became distraught whenever you did?

Sure brings back memories, doesn’t it?

In a very offbeat way, having a female muscle fetish is a lot like the experience we all had surrounding our first crush. We all remember our first time encountering a woman with muscles in the same manner we all remember the exact moment we decided that particular boy or girl wasn’t just special, but Special with a capital “S.”

There are a lot of bloggers, Facebook pages and average folks out there who share my love for female muscle. I know for a fact I’m not alone. But what strikes me most about my fellow female muscle lovers is how they share not just my affinity for FBBs, but my deep passion and wild infatuation for them. This “Incomprehensible Admiration” makes us melt inside. When we see a video of Lisa Cross pumping her gorgeous biceps, we get a tingling feeling inside our souls that doesn’t allow us to blink for even a split second. Nothing else matters except for what Miss Cross is doing in this particular video.

Remember watching the Olympics last year and you saw those female track and field athletes sporting those six-pack abs? Could you look away from your television screen? I doubt you did!

This photo of Emery Miller is perfect in ways I cannot even begin to describe.

A very fine blog, Female Muscle Slave, clearly has contributors who share this Incomprehensible Admiration. FMS posts new content almost every day, a feat I cannot even come close to achieving. I think it’s safe to say that this internal fire burns inside them too. That fire that cannot die once it’s been lit. Once you get hooked on strong ladies, it’s nearly impossible to turn back.

It’s like eating potato chips. Bet you can’t eat just one! So you came across a photo of Deidre Pagnanelli on Google Images? Bet you can’t look at just one!

This level of attraction is hard to compare to anything else. I see beautiful women every day in my life. While I certainly turn my head to catch a glimpse if one does cross my path, this doesn’t compare to the reaction I had when I encountered my first ever female bodybuilder in the flesh a while back. She (I have no idea what her name is) made my heart stop. The sight of her strong, gorgeous body literally stole my breath. I couldn’t look away.

If Gillian Kovack were on television, I'd never stop looking till my eyes hurt. — If Gillian Kovack were on television, I’d never stop looking till my eyes hurt.

Normally, staring at someone is considered rude. Guys try to look at a beautiful woman as discreetly as possible. This is when sunglasses come in handy! But looking at this young woman made me abandon whatever social politeness I normally try to observe. I could not, even if a gun were pointed at my head, look away. No matter how hard I tried, seeing a muscular woman up close and personal made me act completely irrationally. I became like a pubescent 12-year-old boy looking at porn for the first time. Once this new world is opened to you, nothing will ever be the same again.

Hence, this is why I compare the attraction toward female muscle to your first crush (or latest crush). Additionally, it’s also like a young boy seeing his first photo of a naked woman. You act foolishly. You can’t look away. And your perspective about female beauty is changed for good.

Wow! Women can look like this? I thought beautiful women had to be skinny to be attractive.

Nope. Not even close. Alina Popa is more beautiful than any Victoria’s Secret catalog model could ever dream to be. Her natural beauty, combined with her impressive strength and muscular definition, makes her a woman unlike any other woman on planet Earth. Then again, I could say this about almost any gorgeous FBB. Miss Popa just happens to be one of my personal favorites.

I just outlined for you some of the thoughts that rumble through the mind of a female muscle lover. We treat the first time we noticed our love for female muscle as if it were an historic event. Like remembering where you were during the Moon Landing (which, by the way, I’m too young to actually remember), the circumstances when you were first “awoken” to the world of female muscle is also an event that will live on in infamy.

One more photo of the British Bombshell Lisa Cross never hurt anybody.

I’m sure many of you also have this internal fire burning deep within your soul. I know lots of you share my Incomprehensible Admiration. This admiration makes us do incomprehensible things. But we don’t try to fight it. Instead, we give in to it joyfully and unashamedly.

I mean, who spends his hard-earned money on setting up a “muscle worship” session with a travelling female bodybuilder? THAT’S SO WEIRD! Especially when this person isn’t terribly rich either. Disposable income is tight for me, yet I found some reasonable justification for spending more than a week’s wages on 75 glorious minutes in a hotel room with a woman I’ve never been previously acquainted with. Do I regret anything in retrospect? Hell no!

Still, how do you rationalize something like that? To answer this question, I think it has to do with the adage that we’re all familiar with: Love makes you crazy.

It’s so true. Every word of it. Love indeed makes you crazy.

Our love for female muscle is no different.

Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Four)

GFBB reached for a bottle of baby oil on a bedside table and dabbed a small amount on the palm of her hand. Lubricating her fingers, I eagerly anticipated the finale to this incredible muscle worship appointment.

Take a deep breath, I tell myself. This is going to be your first time receiving a sexual service from a woman. And not just any woman, but an absolutely gorgeous female bodybuilder whose beauty, sexiness and smarts turn me on like nothing else.

For those of you who don’t know, my sexual history isn’t terribly detailed. I’m a pretty quiet and meek kind of guy. While I don’t consider myself shy around women, connecting with people doesn’t come easy to me. This goes for people in general, but attractive ladies in particular. Am I trying to fix this? Of course I am. But easier said than done, n’est-ce pas?

Still, my manhood isn’t erect yet. Despite the obvious sexual circumstances – me alone with a gorgeous naked woman in a hotel room – I’m feeling more nervous than aroused. This worried me a bit. What if I can’t produce an erection? What if, despite my years and years of experience masturbating and producing erections at will, I fail at the worst possible moment? Let’s face it. Opportunities like this don’t come around too often!

This causes a flood of insecurities to come crashing down upon me. Strangely enough, GFBB must have noticed my awkwardness because she flashed me a compassionate smile after putting the bottle of baby oil back on the table. Did she see fear in my eyes? Did I give off an anxiety-ridden vibe that’s impossible not to notice?

“Can I kiss you?” I ask GFBB. It was an honest question.

“Yes, you can kiss me.”

I lean over and kiss her on the lips. Her lips are sweet, warm and loving. I’m not sure if she’s usually cool with kissing her clients, but I appreciate her willingness to let me indulge a bit. Kissing random strangers is an easy way to get sick so I would not have been surprised if she said “no.” But…she didn’t say no. She said yes!

And how sweet did she taste. Yummy!

We lay on our sides – me on the right side of the bed, GFBB on the left – and came closer together. The scene resembled a couple engaging in foreplay before making love. While that’s not what was going on, in my imagination I can think whatever I want, right?

I stared into her eyes. She slowly reached down and began to stroke my penis. Still soft and small, I tried to make a joke to ease my tension.

“You’d be surprised. It’s not as easy to produce an erection as you’d think.”

She nodded in agreement. She continued to stroke, her lubricated fingers massaging my manhood in an up and down motion. I felt a slight tingle of sensation rising up from my pelvis.

“Can I ask you something?” I innocently asked.

“Go ahead.”

“Have you heard the stereotype about Asian men and their penises?”

She knew where I was going with this.

“You mean…”

“The stereotype that Asian guys are small down there?”

“Honey, here’s what I have to say about that. When you’re in a relationship with a woman, she won’t care. There’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t worry about a thing.”

I sure hope she’s right. But come to think of it, this is neither the time nor the place for me to air out my insecurities. GFBB is a female bodybuilder, not a therapist!

Toni West is so strong, muscular, beautiful and feminine. A perfect combination.

As her fingers resumed their caressing touch, getting that confession off my chest must have done wonders because almost immediately my penis becomes fully erect. Was I having performance anxiety? Probably not, but I felt the need to keep a conversation going in order to calm me down.

My manhood fully engorged, the initial tingling of orgasm began. Her fingers wrapped around my penis with authority, not rushing to bring me to climax but urgent enough to give me a remarkably pleasurable experience. I leaned over and kissed her on the lips, cheek and neck. She may have kissed me back, but I was on a different planet by now. In this moment, I felt like we were Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden – two perfect, innocent creations experiencing sexual pleasure for the first time.

Of course, I knew GFBB was not new to performing sex acts. As a mother and middle aged woman, she’s had her fair share of erotic life experiences. But not me. I was the newbie, a stranger to a strange game. I tried to focus on the moment and take it all in.

As I kissed her cheek, lingering on tasting her essence and smelling her feminine fragrance, I knew I was about to come. Her fingers were stroking me more earnestly. Electricity was surging through every nerve ending of my body. My erection became harder, anticipating a satisfying climax. The coolness of the baby oil rubbing against my sensitive skin, satiating my every desire, added to the eroticism.

I tried to whisper something in her ear, but could not bring myself to saying anything. Would it be weird to confess my love for a woman I’ve only known for a little more than an hour? Would she think I’m peculiar for doing so? Or would she understand this is purely something done in the heat of the moment, an irrational act committed by an otherwise rational being?

Before I could whisper anything, I felt a surge of pleasure rising and bursting forth out of my manhood. I knew this was it. The time is now.

I came hard, spurting all over my belly and chest. Her fingers stopped massaging me and she watched as I covered myself with my own seed. I let out a deep sigh. GFBB gave me pleasure I will always remember. For all the time we spent talking philosophy and politics, this moment was the culmination of our shared time together. Frozen in time, perhaps? I have no doubt about it.

A legend in her own right, Lenda Murray.

Eventually, my mind came back down to Earth and I left whatever dreamy metaphysical state it was previously in. GFBB got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to fetch a towel.

“You came quite a bit,” she remarked, evidently impressed with how much semen I released. I looked down at myself and was equally impressed. Quite a lot of warm white liquid lying across my torso!

She returned with a towel and I wiped myself off. She offered me the chance to take a shower. I obliged and hopped into the shower to quickly rinse off before leaving. My mind raced at a million miles per minute during that short shower, still basking in the glory of receiving a hand job from a very sexy, intelligent and strong woman.

I'm not too familiar with Nena Cortes, but I'd sure like to learn more about her! — I’m not too familiar with Nena Cortes, but I’d sure like to learn more about her!

After I dried myself off and dressed, I came back into the room and saw GFBB had put back on her tight blue dress. She was watching TV. Some dreadful highway accident was being covered in the news. I gathered my things and decided it was time to give her the bottle of wine.

I went over to my backpack and took it out.

“I brought a gift for you.”

I hand it to her and she smiles widely.

“Why, thank you! That is very kind. Thanks!”

“This is my way of saying thank you. I had a lovely time.”

We briefly chatted about whatever was happening on the television. Eventually I put on my shoes and socks with my backpack slung over my shoulder. Whew. I knew this was it. It was time to say good bye for good. God knows if I’ll ever have the chance to see her again. GFBB lives in Texas and she tells me this will be her last year doing “appointments.” She’s ready to settle down and quit traveling the world to see guys like me. Hey, that’s her prerogative. She has every right to decide for herself when it’s time to hang up the cleats.

I guess my earlier analogy about meeting a fading sports superstar had some truth to it. GFBB was, in a way, “retiring.” Not from bodybuilding necessarily, but from bringing her show on the road and offering these unique services to her fans. If she indeed will call it a career, then I jumped on this opportunity at the right time. That’s fantastic luck on my part!

We stand in front of each other. I thanked her again for the lovely session. It must have been well past one hour since I first came into this room. At least 75 minutes, I’d estimate.

“One more kiss for the road?”

She nods and we share one last kiss. It was sweeter than any other kiss I’ve ever received. We hugged, said our “goodbyes” and I opened the door to leave.

“Have a good night!” she tells me as I walk out into the dimly lit hallway.

“Good night. Bye, bye!”

I close the door behind me and quickly shuffle toward the main lobby. I kept my head down, scurrying in the direction of the exit so none of the hotel staff would have time to think about who I am and what business I had being here. But, to be honest, what other people were thinking had no bearing on my own thoughts. I could only think about myself and GFBB.

Yikes. Wow. What did I just experience?

Everything was so surreal. Did that really happen? The past 75 minutes were all a blur. I felt like I had an out-of-body experience that seemed real but wasn’t. Like “Inception,” perhaps my appointment with GFBB was nothing more than a fabricated dream that I convinced myself was real.

As I left the hotel and headed back to my car, the rational side of me knew this wouldn’t change anything about my life. I’m in no way shape or form a “new” person for having gone through this spectacular experience. I’m the same person right now as I was minutes before walking into that hotel lobby.

But, there was a part of me that knew that something, however miniscule and incremental, had indeed changed. I might come out of this bolder. I’ve always been moderately cautious throughout my life – this could be a step in a different direction. This might not be a new chapter in my life, but certainly a new page. GFBB didn’t change me. I changed myself. She was my incentive for getting out of my box and trying something new. But not just something new, but something selfish.

I try not to be selfish. I try to be as helpful, accommodating and frugal as I can. My muscle worship session with GFBB completely reversed that tendency. This was 75 minutes of me acting upon my lusts, my carnal desires, my sexual curiosities. This was me doing something purely for me and no one else. I benefitted from this experience alone (except for GFBB, who was a couple hundred dollars richer). This was “me” time.

Could this be the start of a reformed outlook on life? Will I start to live life to the fullest? Will I begin to, perhaps in minor ways, live life more selfishly? There’s nothing wrong with rewarding yourself every once in a while. This evening was my chance to reward myself. This was my chance to take hold of a unique situation and run away with it unashamedly.

GFBB earlier asked me what my mother would think if she knew I was in this hotel room with her. I told her she would probably be shocked. But what would she be more shocked at; the circumstances of the situation (paying a muscular woman to let me touch her body) or the fact that I took the initiative and sought out this opportunity to begin with?

I have no idea. I’ll probably never find out.

Lora Ottenad is not only pretty and strong, but she's local! (at least, for me) — Lora Ottenad is not only pretty and strong, but she’s local! (at least, for me)

So this is why this muscle worship session was the 75 greatest minutes of my life. Do I mean that in a literal sense? Of course not. That’s hyperbole. What I really mean is that this past hour+ could very well change the way I live my life – what jobs I choose to work at, how I spend my free time, how I relate with my family, who I choose to be friends with and what I plan to do with my life.

I know this is crazy. I know this evening will not define me. But I couldn’t help but wonder but this, even months later after the fact. The drive back to my apartment was interrupted by a stop off at Subway to grab a sandwich for dinner. It was approaching 8 p.m. and it was getting dark outside. The sun was fading fast, perhaps a symbolic commentary of the situation.

I returned home, turned on my computer, watched some old clips of “Whose Line is it Anyway?” on YouTube and ate my sandwich in peace. I was at peace. My heart stopped pounding nonstop. My blood pressure returned to normal. All the anticipation and anxiety I felt in the minutes leading up to knocking on GFBB’s hotel door was completely gone. I was at my natural emotional state, albeit whatever philosophical thoughts I had churning through my mind at rapid fire.

When I was done eating, all I could do was lie on my bed and ponder in complete silence. The silence was deafening, yet peaceful at the same time. No distractions. Nothing to stop these wild thoughts racing through me.

But something did eventually break my contemplation. I suddenly remembered something I forgot to ask GFBB before leaving her room.

I forgot to take a picture of her!

Concluded in Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Epilogue)

Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Three)

I mean, HOT DAMN.

“Come on in,” she says to me.

I immediately obliged, closing the door gently behind me. I looked around and saw the room was dimly lit. Music played from an iPod in the background. It was some pop song that I can’t recall at the moment.

GFBB looked great, but different than I expected. But to be truthful, I had no idea what to expect. Would she be as hard and muscular as she was in her competition days? Or would she be a shadow of her former self, perhaps maybe slightly overweight?

My questions were answered the moment I laid eyes on her.

She wore a tight blue dress that left very little to the imagination. Proudly showing off her ample bosom and allowing her legs plenty of room to breathe, she looked beautiful. Simply beautiful.

Her body was curvy and toned, not ripped or hypermuscular as a competitive bodybuilder (I might have just invented the word ‘hypermuscular”). She was a few inches shorter than me, 5’4” as it indicates in her biography on AMG-Lite. She was bountiful in many parts of her body; including her chest, back, legs and arms. She looked like a woman who took care of herself at the gym, though not necessarily in the obsessive-compulsive manner of a professional bodybuilder. Her figure would definitely turn heads – not in an “Oh my God she’s so freakish” kind of way, but rather in a “Wow, she looks great!” sort of way.

Let me pause momentarily. Usually, guys who regularly schedule sessions with FBBs would be disappointed by this. Some folks truly expect their FBBs to look ripped, huge and ready to compete in the Ms. Olympia contest. Clearly, GFBB did not fit in this category. But I didn’t mind at all. While her figure wasn’t exceptionally muscular, she still looked beautiful nevertheless. I had nothing to complain about.

If I can make an analogy, it would be like this: Imagine meeting your favorite baseball or basketball player for the first time. You ask for his autograph or for him to take a picture with you. Now imagine you grew up rooting for this player and you consider him to be your childhood hero. A legend from your youth. Now imagine you’re meeting this famous athlete later in his career. He’s not nearly as great as he once was and his production on the field/court isn’t nearly up to the standards he held himself to when he was in the prime of his career. Regardless, you still feel amazed to meet your childhood hero up close. Yes, you realize he’s past his prime, but you still respect him and his body of work. You still feel giddy inside when you shake his hand and he gives you his signed jersey.

Meeting GFBB was sort of like that. I knew she wouldn’t look like she did when she was in the prime of her bodybuilding career, but that didn’t bother me one bit. Meeting her was still a great honor and a memory I will cherish for the rest of my life. Was I disheartened when I saw she didn’t have the bulging muscles that I’ve seen in countless photos and videos?

Hell no!

Returning to my adventure, she led me inside and told me to get comfortable. I took off my shoes and put my backpack next to a chair. We sat down. I sat on a comfortable chair and she sat on the bed. I could not stop staring at her legs! (Confession: I’m a leg guy) She sat cross legged to hide whatever was happening between her gorgeous thighs. I felt my manhood start to rumble. God, I can’t believe I’m actually going through with this!

The first thing we did was introduce each other. Though she didn’t ask for it, I gave her the envelop full of money to complete my financial obligation to her. She graciously accepted it. We both sat down again.

GFBB and I proceeded to have a fairly long conversation about many different topics. I asked her about her bodybuilding career and how she feels about traveling around the world and offering sessions to paying customers. Then we talked about traveling in general. We spoke about our world travels and some of our shared experiences of being a foreigner in a far off land. We talked about our jobs, our families, politics, the difference between our generations and some fairly deep philosophical topics.

Gee, I did not expect our conversation to go like this! She’s a pretty smart cookie.

After talking for about fifteen minutes, our conversation found a natural conclusion and we both knew it. It was time to begin this thing. She broke the ice by asking this simple question:

“Do you like strong women?”

Do I? Um, yes!

I got the sense she wanted to talk with me just to ease my nerves. She knew this is my first ever session and that I’m a complete newbie to this whole process. She even jokingly asked me how my mother would feel if she found out her son was in a hotel room with a strange, mostly naked woman. I told her she would probably be shocked and a bit disappointed.

Come to think of it, I have no idea what my mother would think about this. That’s probably something I don’t want to ever find out.

Amber Deluca exudes uncontained sexiness.

She suggested that she give me a back rub first. Alright, no problem!

I took off my shirt, shoes, socks and pants and lay down on the bed face down wearing only my underwear and a nervous smile. I still could not believe this was happening. But here I was, about to receive a back massage from a strong, beautiful intelligent woman.

Her hands pressed deep into my back, relaxing me beyond what I expected was possible. She commented on how I have a “swimmer’s body,” which I suppose means lean, angular and v-shaped. I took this as a supreme compliment. She obviously has met her share of muscular men in her life. I can take pride that she even found a reason to comment on my figure!

After I was sufficiently relaxed, she proceeded to take off her dress. I tried to turn around to steal a peek, but she playfully tapped me on the face to scold me.

“No peeking!” she says.

Oh, how I love this woman!

I, being a good boy, turned my head away so she could denude without my eyes wandering in her direction. I knew she was topless when I felt her large, plump breasts rubbing against my back. GFBB slowly caressed her breasts across my back side, starting on my butt and ending to almost my neckline. God, that felt good! Feeling the points of her nipples poke my skin accentuated the entire experience.

Very erotic, indeed.

Eventually she allows me to turn me around, upon which I lay on my back only to look up upon one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her pretty face smiling at me, GFBB’s ample bosom impeccably complemented her toned, curvaceous figure. Her strong hands stroked my arms and shoulders. If Heaven exists, I think angels would look like her.

Shy and unsure about what to do next, she guided my hands to feel her breasts. Wow! Unbelievable! Warm, abundant and plump, her breasts gave off a more maternal vibe rather than sexual. She says they’re implants, which makes sense considering how much bodybuilding rescinds the fatty tissue women have in their mammary glands.

We both sat up and she began to “pose” for me. Flexing her arms, I felt her hard biceps welcoming me. Do I like strong women? I think my answer is definitely a resounding “yes!”

I greedily felt her muscles with a mixture of awe and hesitation. Where can I touch her? How does she feel about me touching her body like a horny school boy? She’s obviously used to this sort of thing, but I still didn’t want to treat her like a prostitute. She’s not a prostitute, even though the services she’s offering and the circumstances surrounding our meeting would suggest such a role.

Let me be clear. GFBB is not a prostitute. Not even close.

These thoughts flooded through my mind as I felt up her legs, feet, butt (she still had panties on), back, abdomen, arms and shoulders. Was I disappointed that her muscles weren’t bulgier and more defined? Not one bit.

“What about if I give you a back rub instead?” I suggested.

“Okay. Let’s try that,” she responds.

Now it was GFBB’s turn to get on her stomach and receive a relaxing back rub. Admiring her thick core, I thoroughly enjoyed making her feel like I appreciated everything she’s doing for me. I wonder how often guys who see her return the favor instead of always being on the receiving end. I wanted to show her that I’m a giving person.

We then got on the subject of talking about her career offering sessions to guys like me and how she feels about it. She tells me she doesn’t mind doing things like this, but she hates the word “session.”

“I prefer to call this an appointment,” she tells me.

I agree “session” doesn’t sound right. “Appointment” seems to be a more dignified way of describing muscle worship services. I agree with her completely.

Eventually I ask her about some of the weirdest “appointments” she’s ever had. She told me about one time when a married couple, a man and a woman, asked her to participate in a threesome. The man got aroused by his wife choking him nearly to the point of total asphyxiation. She found that disturbing.

I would too. Yikes.

I continued to rub her back. Feeling her trapezius muscles and listening to her retell stories, I realized I love the way her deep, gravelly voice sounds. There’s something sexy about a woman with a deep voice; very authoritative yet undeniably feminine.

GFBB’s skin was warm and firm. Her musky smell turned me on even more. I don’t consider smell to be a strong sense of mine. I don’t normally associate memories with smell. This evening might change all that. This evening will perhaps change many things about me.

I briefly looked at the bedside clock and saw nearly 50 minutes had passed so far. Gee, time sure flies when you’re having fun! She tells me I’m her last client of the evening. So I suppose that means she isn’t “clock watching” to make sure I get only an hour. I get the sense she wants to take her time with me. For that I am thankful.

We turned the discussion toward the subject of BDSM, the novel “50 Shades of Grey” and how muscle worship fits into all that. I told her BDSM isn’t my thing. She said that’s fine. We both agreed that “to each, his own.” GFBB offered to give me a brief taste of what she usually does with her clients. I got on my back and she wrapped her strong legs around my neck. She demonstrated what a “scissor lock” feels like. Some guys get aroused by a strong woman wrestling him into submission. A scissor hold is a common move. She squeezed, though not particularly hard, and asked me if I liked it.

“Honestly, I’m a little uncomfortable by this.”

She released her powerful thighs and let me sit up. Wow. Those are some dynamic pair of legs!

“It’s strange,” she began. “The guys who want to wrestle with me feel like they have something to prove. But prove what?”

Who wouldn't want Anne Freitas to wrap her strong, powerful legs around them? — Who wouldn’t want Anne Freitas to wrap her strong, powerful legs around them?

I imagine there are insecure men out there who feel like “winning” a wrestling match with a female bodybuilder would be a great personal victory. In a strange sort of way, I kind of understand why, even though I don’t feel the same. All I can say is that I don’t need to “prove” anything to anyone, let alone a beautiful lady like GFBB.

I looked at the clock again. Almost an hour has passed. From the time I knocked on the door to the present moment, it’s been an hour. I think we both know what comes next.

“May I use the bathroom?” I ask.

“Of course.” She laughs.

I go into the bathroom and pee. I didn’t really have to pee that badly, but I figure if I’m about to receive a “happy ending” I should be as comfortable as possible. I’ve never done anything like this before so I want my first time to be special.

I come out of the bathroom and see GFBB has taken off her panties. She is completely naked. As nude as the day she was born. She stood over her iPod and fiddled with it. She asked me if I knew how to work this. Her iPod was playing the same song over and over again (I hadn’t noticed) and she wanted it to move on to the next song. I told her I had no idea why it was doing that. I gave her a playful spank on her bare butt. She giggled.

We got back on the bed after I removed my underwear. Both of us completely nude, we felt up each other’s bodies once more. Amazingly, my penis wasn’t hard yet, but I sure hope it will be soon. I looked down at her vagina and saw she shaved her pubic hair down to a fine thin strip. Very hot. Her firm, round butt was majestic. God, this woman is beautiful beyond words!

We looked into each other’s eyes and knew what was about to happen next. She promised a hand job at the end of our appointment. This moment could not have been more surreal. Imagine for a moment: Here I am, a meek Asian dude from Seattle, about to receive a hand job from a gorgeous world-famous female bodybuilder. One year ago I would have said you were crazy if you told me this was going to happen.

No way! Not me. I wouldn’t be able to do anything like that.

But – sure enough – it’s about to happen. Her touch sends shivers down my spine. Her skin feels like rich velvet. Her eyes captivate my soul. Her strength makes me swoon in ways no other woman could possibly match. Her playfulness, intelligence, kindness, sexiness and dry wit elicit emotions inside me that I know are irrational. We aren’t lovers. I just met her an hour ago. I don’t know her. She doesn’t know me. Yet why do I feel this way? Why do I feel like, in a mysteriously metaphysical way, this moment will forever be frozen in time? Why am I feeling a love for her that doesn’t make an ounce of sense? I know we could never be actual lovers, but why does this moment feel so…perfect?

As she teasingly plays with my penis, I couldn’t stop thinking about what all of this means.

Continued in Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Four)

Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Two)

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.

Because in two days, in a little more than 48 hours, I’ll be engaging in my first ever muscle worship session with GFBB (Gorgeous Female Bodybuilder). I just don’t know where yet. This one last detail is the only thing I haven’t solidified yet with her.

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…

I then thought of what to do: Write a blog post.

So, I did. You can read it here.

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. — 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? — 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–

And there she is.

There she is.

There. She. Is.

THERE. SHE. IS.

Holy cow. Holy mother of mercy. Wow!

I only have one word to describe this moment:

…

Damn.

Continued in Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Three)

Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part One)

Please note: None of the FBBs featured in this blog post is the one I set up the session with. It just never hurts to post photos of strong, gorgeous women.

Anyone who has a female muscle fetish can understand how frustrating it can be.

We love women with muscles, but women with a lot of muscles aren’t exactly common.

Yes. This is very true. How often do you see a lady with the muscular frame of Sheila Bleck walk down the street, shop at your grocery store, patronize your favorite coffee joint or stroll through your local park? Unless you work with professional bodybuilders and athletes for a living, the answer is probably not (and if you do happen to associate with female bodybuilders on a daily basis, we really need to exchange jobs!).

So guys (and gals) who love female muscle are more often than not stuck in the aggravating situation of being in love with a body type that’s more accessible through a Google search than hitting the bars at happy hour. Imagine being into blondes in a world where all you see are brunettes. Talk about agonizing!

But…for those of us who like muscular women and would love nothing more than to meet one, there’s a way to do it. It can be pricy, but if you do your homework it can be a worthwhile experience.

As you can probably imagine, being a professional bodybuilder isn’t exactly a very lucrative profession. It’s an expensive lifestyle (food, supplements, personal trainers, gym memberships, equipment, etc.) and doesn’t bring in much money. Only the top competitors win enough money to call it a career and endorsing commercial products isn’t always an viable option.

If you could get paid to be beautiful, Kristy Hawkins would be a billionaire by now.

So, many bodybuilders (I would guess mostly female) offer “sessions” to bodybuilding fans across the world. These “sessions” often involve “muscle worship,” an activity where clients feel, caress and touch the muscles of a bodybuilder for a fee. You don’t literally worship this person, but it comes awfully close.

Some FBBs offer wrestling (competitive and semi-competitive), sensual massages, grappling, scissor squeezing, posing, lifting, role playing and BDSM services in addition to muscle worship. They often travel around the country (and world) and visit major cities where enough fans are interested in paying for their services. Muscle worship sessions mostly take place in hotel rooms, but sometimes they can occur in private homes or studios if the FBB feels comfortable doing that.

I’ve known about this sort of thing for years but never thought about doing it until recently. Firstly, it’s pricy. Some sessions can cost up to $800 or as low as $400 for an hour. That’s quite a bit of money for someone who’s not exactly rolling in the dough. Secondly, muscle worship sessions (especially the sensual kinds) come dangerously close to prostitution, which I’m not inherently against, but it does come with its own social stigma.

I have nothing against prostitution per se, and I’ll admit my perspective on this matter has changed over the years, but I’ve always felt like I’m better than that. Pay someone for sex? Even if actual sex isn’t involved (and in most cases of muscle worship, full-service sex isn’t involved), this still sounds like something a desperate loser would resort to because they can’t get this anywhere else.

But on the other hand, this is different. Female bodybuilders aren’t exactly common. If feeling the body of a muscular woman is a kink of mine, and this kink isn’t easy to fulfill, what’s the harm of paying money for it? It’s not every day when an opportunity like this comes around.

Also, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not being judgmental toward FBBs or male bodybuilders who offer sessions. I’m not equating what they do to prostitution, nor should we stigmatize those who do work in the sex industry. My hesitancy toward paying for a muscle worship session has more to do with my personal biases than my opinion about the concept of sex work. I’ve come to realize that everyone has the right to make a living by whatever means they see necessary as long as they don’t harm anyone else or themselves. This includes female bodybuilders.

So, I decided to pursue setting up a muscle worship session after careful deliberation. I decided first to do some casual online research to see what’s out there. After a lengthy Google search, I discovered the website wb270, which is essentially the Craigslist of those seeking female muscle worship sessions. I looked at the state of Washington to find out who is either local or traveling to my region.

An absolutely stunning photo of Kris Murrell.

At first, I e-mailed a local FBB, but heard no response from her. I figured maybe she wasn’t doing that sort of thing anymore and that her contact information was left erroneously on wb270’s website. I checked back a few weeks later and discovered a particular FBB would be travelling to Seattle at the end of May.

Before I continue, I’ve decided to leave the identity of this FBB a secret because of a few reasons. I’ll explain later. For now, let’s call her GFBB (Gorgeous Female Bodybuilder).

I e-mailed GFBB and asked her how much she charges for an hour long session and if indeed she’s travelling to Seattle. She didn’t respond for the longest time, which made me assume she too wasn’t interested in my inquiry. I then began to think if somehow I came across as either too creepy, or passive, or inexperienced, or something else that’s making me appear less than trustworthy. Those thoughts crept into my mind until about a week later…

She responded!

I was so excited I felt jittery all over. GFBB isn’t just beautiful and strong, but she’s a celebrity as well. Anyone who follows the world of female bodybuilding has no doubt heard of this woman. She’s a superstar of the sport and very well known to fans all over the world. When she finally responded to my e-mail, I felt star-struck and in awe that she would actually communicate with me!

We exchanged a few e-mails back and forth, discussing her travelling schedule and such. She tells me that she’s tentatively confirmed to be in Seattle on May 23, but that she needs at least three confirmed appointments before making concrete plans. This makes sense. Why book a flight to Seattle when you have no assurance you’ll land any clients?

Feast your eyes on Jana Linke-Sippl, a woman with thighs of steel (which is putting it mildly).

After learning about this, I asked GFBB what services she offers. She says she’s pretty open from anything ranging from semi-competitive wrestling, to grappling, to sensual muscle worship and other stuff in between. I told her muscle worship was my thing and that I wasn’t too keen about wrestling. I’m not really into that, to be honest. But touching this woman’s muscles? Yes, please!

She told me about her prices and says she offers two kinds of sessions: bikini and nude. Well, shucks! I can see her completely naked? Hell yes!

Naturally, a nude session costs more, but it was a price I was willing to pay. This sort of thing doesn’t happen to me all the time, so I better take advantage of it while I can.

We settled on this arrangement: One hour of nude muscle worship. She even says she’s willing to give a hand job at the end. Eureka!

This is why I’m choosing to keep the identity of GFBB a secret. Because this comes very close to prostitution, and there’s the possibility she could get into legal trouble if word leaks out, I’ve decided not to reveal who she is. Odds are I could mention her identity and no harm will come her way, but I don’t want to risk that. Also, she has family and friends who might not want to hear that she offers hand jobs to random guys who pay her. I mean, talk about embarrassing! In this age of the Internet, information can spread quicker than an STD at a college dormitory, so I’d sleep better at night knowing her willingness to give her customers a “happy ending” is kept off the Web. I try to be respectful to everyone’s reputation and personal comfort.

If more women around me looked like Emery Miller, I'd be a happy man. — If more women around me looked like Emery Miller, I’d be a happy man.

So…we made our deal and I wired her some money as a deposit. After asking for some cash up front, at first I was afraid she might be scamming me, but I took a risk and trusted that she truly was who she says she is and not some flimflam man trying to con my libido-fueled idiotic ass out of easy cash.

After paying her the deposit, I played the waiting game and crossed my fingers that at least two more chaps around the Seattle area would contact her and set up appointments. She says she’ll return the deposit if she can’t make the trip. While I appreciate this, I hoped like hell it wouldn’t have to come to that.

A few weeks passed and I finally heard the good news: She has three confirmed appointments, meaning we’re on for May 23. Oh happy day! Yahoo!!!

Indeed, I felt like dancing in the streets after hearing GFBB was definitely coming to my area. My heart pounded as I proceeded to think about what sort of things I’d like to do with her. Muscle worship? Caressing her body? Touching her hardened biceps? Leaving a trail of kisses down her taut back? Rubbing her powerful thighs? Receiving a hand job from her? Holy cow! All of this would be possible now.

Anyone who isn't into female muscle should take a look at Ocean Bloom and prepare to have their perspective changed permanently. — Anyone who isn’t into female muscle should take a look at Ocean Bloom and prepare to have their perspective changed permanently.

Whew. I’ve just booked my first muscle worship session ever. Wow. Is this really happening? Am I actually going to go through with this? Am I dreaming?

I sure hope I’m not dreaming. I pray that this is real.

Well, whether I like it or not, this is real. Shit is getting real. Very real. I’m a few weeks away from meeting a famous, gorgeous female bodybuilder in the flesh. I’m going to worship her flesh and touch her body. And she’s going to touch my body. And give me pleasure in ways I’ve never experienced before with a woman (see a previous blog post for further context). Hot damn.

I’ve just crossed a threshold. For the past several years, I’ve just been a female bodybuilding fan who’s admired strong women from a distance. I’ve had very limited up close and personal experiences with a muscular woman, so this will be unprecedented. Never in my life have I ever done something like this before. Who knows, I might never do something like this again.

But all I could do was wait. She said she’ll give me further information about which hotel she’ll be staying at a few days before our session. So all I can do is wait.

Waiting. Damn. I might not like having to count down the days on my calendar like a kid anticipating Christmas morning, but what else can I do? This is just like Christmas to me, except a lot more erotic.

So every day I looked at my calendar. Twenty days and counting. Nineteen days and counting. Eighteen days and counting. Seventeen days and counting…

Let the countdown begin.

Continued in Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Two)

Top 10 Misconceptions About Having a Female Muscle Fetish

I’d like to think that one day it’ll become more acceptable to being attracted to muscular women. After all, I do sense a somewhat significant backlash against the “skinny is beautiful” aesthetic that we’ve all grown accustomed to seeing.

I’m also willing to bet the recent debate about healthcare will also spur some further dialogue about the health of our country and what it means to be healthy. Is starving yourself in order to achieve that rail thin look good for your body? The answer, of course, is a resounding NO.

Maybe someday we’ll actually see more muscular women in everyday society once we get past the irrational concept that women can’t lift weights in the gym like guys do. Face it: You all know what I’m talking about. Which demographic almost always dominates the weight room at your gym? Men. This isn’t even up for debate.

So, once we see more ladies pump iron in the weight room, perhaps this will lead more and more straight guys (and non-straight guys, to be fair) to openly admit that a women with muscle isn’t gross, but beautiful. Is it so strange to finally admit something that was once “taboo” the moment it becomes mainstream? I would hope not.

But seeing muscular women walk down the streets in droves is far from a reality and probably will never become commonplace (though one does hope and pray!) in my lifetime. Nevertheless, let’s delve into ten common misconceptions about having a female muscle fetish that we should clear up in anticipation of a complete social paradigm shift in how we define “sexy.”

I'd go to the gym more often if women like Ericca Kern were hanging around the weight room. — I’d go to the gym more often if women like Ericca Kern were hanging around the weight room.

1. Straight men who are attracted to muscular women are secretly gay.

There’s this belief out there that straight men who love a female with brawn is somehow living a lie. He’s not really straight, but instead a fabulously gay man ready to burst out of the closet with two chiseled female bodybuilders sitting on his shoulders.

If my understanding of sexuality is correct, gay men are attracted to OTHER MEN, not women. I’m heterosexual and have no desire to be intimate with a guy. I do, however, have many fantasies about being intimate with women like Gayle Moher, Tazzie Colomb, Ericca Kern and Angela Salvagno. I’m attracted to these women (and scores of others) because they’re beautiful women; regardless if their beauty is or is not commonly accepted among the general population.

That’s correct. They’re WOMEN who are BEAUTIFUL by standards that happen to be outside of the norm. My personal standards for female beauty are my own. I’m not saying you should agree with me, but you should accept this fixation of mine and move on with your life.

Sound good?

Great!

I could write a whole essay describing the beauty of Denise Masino. I just might... — I could write a whole essay describing the beauty of Denise Masino. I just might…

2. Having a female muscle fetish also means you’re into BDSM.

BDSM, for those of you who don’t know what this means, is an acronym for Bondage, Discipline (it could also be Domination) and Sadomasochism. In short, this means chains, whips, being tied up, tying up someone else, spanking, role playing, domination, submission, safe words, leather outfits, consensual pain, pleasure though pain, pleasure through risqué social relationships, pleasure through power, pleasure through the lack of power, paddles, rope, orgasm control, dungeons, anal plugs, kinky toys, blindfolds and a whole host of other elements.

You get the idea, right? Think “50 Shades of Grey,” if you’ve ever heard of that before.

Hell, at this point who hasn’t?

While many female bodybuilders often engage in BDSM activities outside of their bodybuilding careers (being a professional bodybuilder, unfortunately, isn’t a very lucrative business), there is no direct link between being having a female muscle fetish and being into the D/s subculture.

Please don’t get me wrong: I’m not judging those who are into that sort of thing. In fact, I believe that whatever you’re into is your own business and no one else’s. What happens between consenting adults in the privacy of their own homes is not for us to judge. So…I am not saying all of this because I want to distance myself from DBSM culture.

Rather, you can be attracted to an FBB and not want her to tie you up, spank you with a paddle and call you dirty names while she makes you do her bidding. Your lust for her can be very “vanilla,” just as if you had a crush on the girl next door.

Except this girl happens to have steel thighs, bulging biceps, wide pecs and rock hard abs!

But this all brings me to my next point…

Would I want Tina Lockwood's massive thighs around my neck? No, but don't knock it unless you've tried it, right? — Would I want Tina Lockwood’s massive thighs around my neck? No, but don’t knock it unless you’ve tried it, right?

3. A guy with a female muscle fetish wants a female bodybuilder to physically dominate him.

Nor is this a true statement. Speaking from my personal life, all my fantasies about being with a beautiful female bodybuilder has nothing to do with her physically dominating me.

I would love nothing more than to make love to a woman like Lisa Cross. She doesn’t have to wrestle me, sit on me, grapple me, pick me up, or pin me to the ground till I beg her to let me breathe. A simple evening with her involving candle light, a bottle of wine, fresh fruit and silky white bed sheets will suffice.

Seriously. That would be awesome.

While many guys who love female muscle are also into D/s role playing, I want to make a point that not every guy fantasizes about the same thing. Just as most regular people have a diverse range of sexual fantasies, so do guys who love ladies with muscles. We’re no different, no freakier than you are. We’re just into a different sort of woman.

Contrary to popular belief, I still find women like Kate Upton to be beautiful.

4. A guy with a female muscle fetish isn’t attracted to “normal” looking women.

On the contrary, I find women of all types to be beautiful. When I was in high school, I had the biggest celebrity crush on Monica Bellucci, whom I thought was literally the most beautiful woman in the world.

Upon further review, there is little evidence to suggest that my assessment at the time was wrong. Even as a middle aged woman, Ms. Bellucci remains a supremely gorgeous creature. My high school-self had every rational reason to be enamored by this Italian Goddess.

Like most young men, I see beautiful women everywhere I look and frequently fantasize about being with them (guys think about sex every, what is it…seven seconds?). One young lady I particularly like at the moment is the polar opposite of a female bodybuilder: She’s small, petite and possesses absolutely no upper body strength. Kim Chizevsky could snap her like a twig if she wanted to. But I nevertheless find her supremely beautiful.

She has narrow hips, skinny legs, pale white skin and flat breasts. She’s half Asian but looks very much like she could be full. She’s smart, funny and shares a lot of the same interests as me. I’m very much in love with her, but unfortunately she doesn’t quite share the same mutual feelings (my confession of my love for her and her subsequent “friend-zoning” of me could make for a whole other blog post). Regardless, I think she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met.

All this is to say that I’m also attracted to “normal” looking women. It’s not like guys who love muscular women find their less muscled counterparts to be repulsive. We don’t expect every woman to look like Lauren Powers or Lora Ottenad, so it’s unreasonable to assume if you don’t look like them, we don’t care. It’s not like that at all.

Having a female muscle fetish isn’t a one-track deal. It’s just one tool in the tool shed, so to speak. Of course women like Megan Fox and Kate Upton also catch our eye. But ladies like Deidre Pagnanelli and Monica Brant do as well. That’s all there is to it.

If being attracted to a woman like Gayle Moher means I'm unhealthy, then I'm one sick puppy! — If being attracted to a woman like Gayle Moher means I’m unhealthy, then I’m one sick puppy!

5. Having a female muscle fetish is a “condition” that’s unhealthy.

This is a misconception that especially gets me angry. I don’t know how common this belief is, but I do know that a small percentage of folks out there might think this.

Clinically speaking, the proper term is sthenolagnia, which means “sexual arousal from displaying strength or muscles.” This isn’t a condition. It’s just a kink. Of course, any interest that goes too far can be unhealthy. When a fetish becomes an obsession, you can be prone to adopting some very unhealthy behaviors.

Wasting money you can’t afford to spend to satisfy your kink. Alienating your friends and family. Breaking the law. Endangering your physical being and psyche. All of these things can be associated with a fetish gone too far.

But this definitely is not normal for people with a harmless and unusual fetish.

To be fair, I should say that the word “fetish” can be misleading. In some definitions, the word “fetish” implies that someone needs that particular object in order to get sexually aroused and cannot get aroused otherwise. In other words, if feet are your thing, nothing will turn you on except for feet and feet only.

This definition might be a bit extreme, but like I mentioned before, being attracted to muscular women doesn’t mean I can’t be attracted to non-muscular women. There are lots of non-FBBs who strike my fancy.

So there is nothing unhealthy about having a female muscle fetish. It doesn’t affect my personal or professional life. My relationships with my friends and family aren’t strained because of it. My relationship with women also isn’t suddenly off-the-wall because of this particular fandom. I’m perfectly normal. And many other guys who share my kink are as well.

Growing up, I considered Monica Bellucci to be the most beautiful woman on the planet. After looking at photos like this, I can see why.

6. A female muscle fetish is caused by unresolved childhood trauma.

Can my love for female bodybuilders be explained because of some unresolved childhood trauma? Was Mommy overbearing, despotic and cruel? Was Daddy weak, complacent and effeminate? Could this be the cause of my lust for strong women?

I’m no psychologist, but I’m guessing there’s absolutely no link between liking female muscle and having a troubled childhood. But it does seem rather tempting to make a Freudian connection between having a strong mother and gravitating toward strong women as an adult.

I’m willing to bet there’s some truth that someone who was spanked as a child (by mom, perhaps) might develop a fetish for being spanked as a grownup. But I have absolutely no empirical evidence to back me up.

Alas, I can only speak from personal experience that my attraction to female muscle is completely independent from my upbringing.

Then again, it’s hard to self-analyze, isn’t it?

Maybe I should see a shrink after all…

I don't think my attraction for Gina Davis will ever go away. — I don’t think my attraction for Gina Davis will ever go away.

7. A female muscle fetish is temporary and will eventually go away.

Sticking with this theme of a female muscle fetish being a “condition,” is it like the common cold and it will eventually go away with plenty of bed rest, cough drops and chicken soup?

I highly doubt it. This is not some sort of temporary fad that I’ll get into and eventually move on from as if it were a trend diet. The South Beach Diet, Atkin’s Diet and the recently chic Paleo Diet may come and go, but I don’t think the love for female muscle will ever go away.

If you browse chat forums that discuss muscle worship, wrestling sessions and the love for FBBs, many of these folks talk about loving female muscle for many years, sometimes dating back to childhood. It’s like a light going off: Everyone who loves muscular women can remember the exact moment they first discovered this love. Whether it was pursuing through a fitness magazine, catching a glimpse of a female bodybuilder on television or seeing a strong female character in a comic book, everyone with a female muscle fetish can share their personal testimony of “how it all started.”

This is why I very much doubt the belief that this kink will simply run its course after a new fetish is magically “discovered.”

Unfortunately, not all female bodybuilders are as beautiful as Monica Brant.

8. Guys who are attracted to female bodybuilders are attracted to ALL female bodybuilders.

There are lots of FBBs whom I find attractive. Katka Kyptova, Victoria Dominguez, Tina Lockwood (who retired from bodybuilding a while back), Colette Guimond, Amber DeLuca and scores of others are some of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on.

However, this doesn’t mean I find every female bodybuilder attractive.

I hate to say it and sound sexist, but there are some FBBs who do indeed look “gross.” Whether it’s because of veins sticking out of their skin, “masculine” faces caused by an imbalance of hormones, or some other reason, there are some FBBs in this world that don’t even come close to turning me on. While I wholeheartedly reject the notion that female bodybuilders are disgusting because women shouldn’t have muscles, unfortunately (and it hurts me to say this) this is somewhat true for a select few.

Whew. There you go. I said it. Not every muscular woman looks sexy and beautiful. I hope I don’t offend anybody out there!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as the old saying goes. Generally speaking, we all have our standards for what we find aesthetically pleasing in a human being. Some folks fit in those categories, and others simply do not. We should try our best not to be judgmental about these sorts of things, but that doesn’t change the fact that some women (and men!) are naturally more beautiful than others.

I have nothing against FBBs whom I don’t find pleasant to look at. They have every right to sculpt their bodies into whatever shape they want. I just don’t need to find it attractive, necessarily.

To each his own, eh?

Sandra Faas is beautiful, regardless of what others might think!

9. A female muscle fetish is misogynist because we’re objectifying a muscular woman.

I’m no feminist scholar, but I’m sure some folks out there might object to us guys with the hots for strong ladies because we’re treating them like sex objects instead of human beings.

This is one misconception that might, unfortunately, have a certain degree of truth. I suppose it’s not a stretch to say that a guy who likes the muscles on a woman is similar to a guy who likes a woman with fake breasts, artificially tanned skin and excessive Botox treatments. We like what we see instead of who she is as a person.

If we lust after a woman because of her looks, does this make us sexist? This is a whole other discussion that I’m not too keen on getting into right now. But here is what I can say with a certain degree of certainty: Guys who like muscular women probably aren’t typically going to be the sexist, misogynist pigs you see on Mad Men.

I say this because I think the hatred of female bodybuilders is more fueled by sexism than the love for female bodybuilders. While objectification under any circumstances is unacceptable, I’m willing to bet if there is a group of straight men out there who is less likely to be against a woman demonstrating her independence and bodily freedom, it would be guys with a female muscle fetish.

Personally, I think it’s awesome there are women out there who could care less about what society says and choose to pursue bodybuilding regardless. I’m all for someone striving to be the best they can be at what they do. The beauty about bodybuilding is that it’s a sport where, ultimately, you’re competing against yourself more so than against other people.

Think of it this way: Us guys who like strong ladies do so because we like the way they look. Fine. But there’s a hidden layer underneath this. We also like their will, tenacity and dedication to looking the way they do. Lots of guys are scared and intimated by a woman who’s not afraid to break stereotypes.

Guys like me aren’t.

The peerless Kim Chizevsky could care less if you think muscles aren't sexy on a woman. You go girl! Keep pumping those biceps! — The peerless Kim Chizevsky could care less if you think muscles aren’t sexy on a woman. You go girl! Keep pumping those biceps!

10. A female muscle fetish is rare.

My last point is another point that might be partly true. It’s very hard to say how many guys are actually attracted to muscular women. It is fair to say that the number of guys who are open about their attraction to muscular women is rare. I’ll give you that.

But how many guys (like myself) keep their love for strong lassies a secret? As we all know, it’s a taboo to openly admit this, so this could explain why we think it’s so rare. But is it actually more prevalent but kept underground because of the stigma attached to it?

Anything that’s considered “weird” ceases to become weird once it becomes more popular. I could list a million things that fit into this category. But as much as I love female muscle, I’d be very hesitant to openly admit this fetish in casual conversation with my friends. Complete strangers on the Internet? No problem! My best friends? Uh, no.

So is a female muscle fetish rare? Maybe, maybe not. I’m in no position to say either yay or nay.

But maybe it isn’t. Maybe there are a lot of men out there who wouldn’t hesitate to confess that a woman with muscles is way more sexy than a woman with a bony body if it weren’t so “strange.” Maybe the more we see muscular woman in public, the more willing guys would be to whisper to their buddies, “Hey, she’s pretty hot. And strong, too!”

Maybe, and bear with me here, if more guys admitted to liking a girl with a little bulk, more women would abandon ridiculous fad diets and do more bench presses. Starve yourself to get skinny? Screw that! Go to the gym instead and LIFT to your heart’s delight! If we want to see more women in the weight room, all we simply need to do is encourage them. Hmmmmm…

Is strong the new skinny? We can only hope so.

Or, at least, I can only hope so.

Female Muscle and Masculine Insecurity

I often wonder why being attracted to muscular women isn’t more mainstream.

Of course, there are the obvious reasons, such as muscular women aren’t commonplace, “society” (however you define that) believes skinny is beautiful and the perception that women with muscles look too much like men.

All these reasons are valid and definitely hold a degree of truth, but there lies a deeper explanation. And that explanation can be summarized into two words: Masculine insecurity.

One has to conclude that, by and large, straight men in America aren’t encouraged to openly admit they like muscular women out of fear they’d be labeled as “not a real man.” What real man would like a woman who is stronger and bigger than himself? I mean, do you really want to marry a lady who can bench press more than you in front of your friends at the gym? Talk about embarrassing.

Then again, one has to also wonder whether this fear is based on other people’s judgments or actual personalized fear. Are guys more afraid of the pure fact that a woman is be stronger than him or the public ridicule that comes with it? It seems like what other people think about you is more important than how you think about yourself.

There’s also the literal fear of a muscular woman.

Are some guys afraid that muscular women are more dangerous than normal women? If your muscular girlfriend gets mad at you, will she start hitting and beating you up like an abusive partner? Would you be powerless to effectively fight back?

I don’t think there’s a strong stereotype (thought it does exist to a degree) that female bodybuilders are more aggressive and violent in nature. Being strong doesn’t mean you always use that strength for belligerent purposes. I don’t think people believe male bodybuilders are more dangerous than “normal” guys.

Blonde Muscle Goddess Melissa Dettwiller.

Nor do we believe professional athletes are more prone to violent behavior than non-athletes. An NFL linebacker may spend their Sundays pounding guys to a pulp, but I don’t think that behavior necessarily translates off the field. Granted, there are professional athletes across all sports who can be violent at times, but that has nothing to do with their profession.

Sadly, plenty of people who don’t play sports for a living commit acts of violence in everyday life. Violence is a result of a large variety of social cues, which are obviously too numerous to explain. Suffice to say it’s foolish to equate muscular strength with any tendency toward violence.

It could be true that people predisposed to aggressive behavior tend to gravitate toward hobbies that exhibit these characteristics; such as boxing, hunting or martial arts. But correlation doesn’t prove causation, a sentiment you’ll hear often on Internet discussion forums.

So, if engaging in activities that create muscular strength (like weightlifting, sports or physically demanding jobs) does not automatically mean that person will be more aggressive, this also means men have nothing to fear when it comes to interacting with muscular women. Obviously, muscular women don’t exactly show up in our lives every day, but discussions surrounding strength and femininity do.

And this is where a heterosexual male’s fear of strong women comes into play. We fear a muscular woman will “emasculate” us, not in a physical sense (a female bodybuilder isn’t going to rip off your penis during foreplay!), but in a psychological sense. She makes us feel inadequate because her strength is superior to ours. As the so-called “weaker sex,” a woman isn’t supposed to be stronger than a man.

Maybe this is why so many male sports fans make fun of female athletes. We tell athletes like Danica Patrick and Venus and Serena Williams to “go back into the kitchen” because we feel emasculated that they’ve achieved something we haven’t. They’ve become good at a professional sport. Most of us aren’t professional athletes who get paid millions to play a game. Most of us pay the bills doing something less glamorous with our lives.

This might also explain why rabid male sports fans will worship somebody like LeBron James or Adrian Peterson while making fun of Abby Wambach for being a lesbian. We admire James and Peterson for being supreme athletes but are secretly jealous of Wambach because she can score more women than most of us guys. And she’s a chick!

Also, we can rationalize that athletes like Kobe Bryant, Justin Verlander and Tom Brady are where they are because they have more natural skill, support systems (professional trainers and coaches) and personal drive than us. So we accept the fact that they’re wildly successful multimillionaires. But how can you explain Kim Clijsters? How can a woman be so rich and famous while I’m not? Preposterous!

Let’s look at this from another angle: the relationship between a female muscle fetish and BDSM culture.

I can only speak for myself on this point. I’m obviously very attracted to muscular women, but I don’t consider myself into BDSM kink culture. I’d love to have sex with a woman like Alina Popa or Amber Deluca, but I have no desire to be tied up, spanked, slapped or wrestled by either of them.

Meet Coco Crush. She could "crush" you if she wanted to, but I don't think she would. — Meet Coco Crush. She could “crush” you if she wanted to, but I don’t think she would.

I should hurry up and say that I’m not against BDSM, nor am I judging anyone who is into that. Not at all! Rather, I’m just saying I’m not personally into that sort of thing. Anything consensual is fair game in my book. What I do want to say is that being attracted to female muscle isn’t the same thing as being into bondage, submission or sadomasochism. Rather, my attraction is purely based on other reasons.

We’ve just explored that the backlash against muscular women by heterosexual men can be based upon a combination of sexism and irrational fears. But it can also be based on prejudice and the mistaken belief that if you can lure a muscular woman into bed, she’ll “take over” and become the “man” in the relationship.

I’ve never had sex with a muscular woman, but I’m willing to bet their bedroom behaviors and preferences are no different than any other woman. She just wants to have a good time like you! I highly doubt she’ll want to grapple you and make you into her “little slave” without your consent. If she’s into that sort of thing and you are too, great. But I’m willing to bet not every FBB shares that kink.

Seriously, who wouldn't want to be Deidre Pagnanelli's little slave? — Seriously, who wouldn’t want to be Deidre Pagnanelli’s little slave?

If only I could ask a hundred or so straight men to anonymously answer me this simple question: Are you attracted to a woman with muscles?

I’d like to think if they could honestly answer without anyone knowing their answer, a good percentage of guys would say “yes.” I can tell you from my personal experience that I’d say yes in private but would be less likely to admit it in public.

Of course, no one has ever directly asked me if I’m into muscular women, so I have no idea how I’d answer. Maybe it all depends on who’s asking and why.

Now…I don’t want to come across as a man-basher. I’m far from it. I’m a man, too! I realize embarrassment, fear, misinformation and sexism aren’t the only reasons why a straight guy wouldn’t be attracted to a lady with bulging biceps. Sexual attraction, ultimately, is a personal thing determined by each individual.

To each his own. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It’s all a matter of opinion. Blah, blah, blah. We’ve all heard this before. Maybe some guys genuinely don’t dig this particular aesthetic. They’d rather go for Kim Kardashian instead of Colette Guimond. There is no right or wrong answer.

If hypermuscularity isn't your thing, check out professional figure competitor and fitness model Erin Stern. Isn't she ridiculously pretty? — If hypermuscularity isn’t your thing, check out professional figure competitor and fitness model Erin Stern. Isn’t she ridiculously pretty?

But my real point is that regardless of what you’re into, can we stop judging each other for it? I’m into muscular women. There you go. Can we move on with our lives? I’m no more freaky than you are. In fact, I might be less freaky because I can actually put into words what my penis tells me is attractive in a woman, while some guys are only attracted to someone because a Photoshopped magazine cover told them to be.

Maybe someday it will be more socially acceptable for a guy to admit he likes muscular women. Maybe someday it will be accepted into the “mainstream.”

Maybe.

So, if that day ever comes, here’s my stereotypical Seattle hipster moment for the day:

I was into beautiful muscular women BEFORE it was mainstream.

My First Ever Up Close and Personal Encounter with a Female Bodybuilder

No, I did not meet the lovely Dena Westerfield.

I may have written once or twice about the subject of female bodybuilders and my special attraction and fascination with them. I find them alluring, physically beautiful beyond words and intriguing on multiple levels.

But until recently, I’d never actually had a real encounter with a muscular woman. My only experiences with FBBs have been limited to web searches (Thank God for the Internet!) and what I see in the media. But that all changed two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago I was working out at the gym on a typical Saturday afternoon. I had just got done doing a grueling shoulder and back workout and had moved on to doing some stretching. The stretching mats are located next to a large room where classes are typically held; such as yoga, martial arts aerobics and dancing. On this particular day, there was a Zumba class in session with loud music blaring and rattling the whole building. Large windows showed a jam packed room full of sweaty people, most of them young attractive women, dancing their way to thinness and improved cardio vascular endurance.

During a brief water break, several ladies exited the classroom to take a drink from the water fountains. As a typical straight guy, I try to catch glimpses of all the cute girls wearing skin-tight clothing without looking like a creepy stalker. I hope I succeed on this level.

But one particular young lady caught my eye. She was short, probably no taller than 5’1” or 5’ flat. She had long brown hair that was tied in a ponytail. She was young, most likely between 25 and 30 years old. She wore tight shorts and a sports bra.

But what really made her stand out was her body. Holy cow! This woman was covered with lean, bulging muscles. It also helped that her outfit generously showed off her magnificent figure for all to see.

I didn't meet Nicole Berg either, despite the fact that she's a Pacific Northwest native. — I didn’t meet Nicole Berg either, despite the fact that she’s a Pacific Northwest native.

I don’t think she’s a professional bodybuilder, but she certainly looks like someone who takes her lifting seriously. What really struck me was the fact that I’d never seen her before. I’ve been going to this gym for more than a year and I’ve come to recognize all the “regulars.” You know who they are. I’m even on a first-name basis with some of my fellow gym rats.

But I’ve never seen her before! I’ve nicknamed her “Buff Girl” because that’s exactly who she is: really, really muscular. Not muscular like Alina Popa or Katka Kyptova, but she definitely holds her own compared to 99.999% of the women who work out at my gym regularly.

I was surprised at how quickly I noticed Buff Girl. She was in a large crowd of at least 80 to 120 other people, but my eyes immediately picked up on her amazing body. It’s more amazing considering she’s short. But nevertheless, my eyes instantly saw her large shoulders, rounded butt, thick legs and bulging biceps. And once my eyes were on her, they remained on her until the moment she ended her work out and headed back to the women’s locker room.

Forget stretching. All I could focus on was her incredible physique!

(As a side note, I don’t have a photo of her because I’m not THAT kind of guy. Besides, I never bring my phone with me when I work out. The music they play over the PA system is good enough for me.)

How would you react if you saw a woman who looked like Joanna Thomas?

In my estimate, my eyes were on her for no more than ten minutes. Then she was gone. The Zumba class was nearing its end when I came to the stretching mats. At one point, we walked past each other when I went to the water fountain and she was going back to the classroom. I tried to check her out without staring like a hormonal teenager boy. All you readers out there should know exactly what I’m talking about. We’re all walked past Mister or Miss Dreamy on the streets and tried to feast our eyes on them without being too obvious.

Yikes! She was even more beautiful up close than from a distance. Sheesh!

Sigh. I’ll never forget my first ever up close and personal (even though I never actually SPOKE to her) encounter with a beautiful, muscular woman.

And what an experience it was.

I'd be distracted if I had to workout next to Debbie Bramwell. — I’d be distracted if I had to workout next to Debbie Bramwell.

Hopefully, sometime in the near future I’ll see her again. Maybe I’ll cleverly find a way to strike up a conversation with her. That sort of thing happens in gyms all the time. Mostly, I’m just curious to know how being a muscular woman affects how people treat her. I’d imagine she gets second and third looks all the time when in public. I would also imagine lots of creepy guys hit on her (and perhaps some ladies) and give her all sorts of unwanted attention. I definitely don’t want to be that type of guy.

So here’s to you, Buff Girl. I have no idea where you came from or where you live, but your hard work hasn’t gone unappreciated. The humble writer of this blog article unquestionably appreciates all the blood, sweat and tears you’ve put into crafting your physical canvas.

I just hope no one out there thinks I’m creepy!