Alina Popa – The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi

Porn for the Whole Family

Debbie Bramwell showing off her best assets.

Since we are now living in the era of COVID-19 stay-at-home quarantine orders, families are spending more time together than they were before. Well, maybe since the Great Depression, which wiped out the global economy, drained our resources, and was followed by World War II.

So what are families up to these days? Watching lots of Netflix and Disney+, no doubt. The Marvel Cinematic Universe movies are pretty harmless. So is Star Wars. And that Michael Jordan documentary everyone’s been talking about. Or seeing what the latest trends on YouTube, Snapchat, or TikTok happen to be. Or playing too much Fortnite. If you have no idea what those things are, don’t feel bad for feeling old. We all get there eventually.

One thing I can guarantee not too many families are doing is sitting around the computer and watching videos of female bodybuilders.

Yeah, that’s probably not a trend that’s going to catch on, unlike baking your own bread, sewing your own facemasks, or learning dance moves you saw on Instagram. We may not call it by this name, but watching porn isn’t exactly a family-friendly activity.

However, as odd as this may sound, not all porn is explicit, dirty, or socially unacceptable.

Some porn is PG-13 clean. Fun for the whole family.

Huh?

Fans of female bodybuilders know full well two strange and not-so-contradictory things:

1. 1. Our taste in muscular women is unusual
  2. The way we enjoy muscular women isn’t too kinky

On the first point, it is true that female muscle fetishism isn’t too common. Or more specifically, it’s not an interest that many of us are open to admitting. It’s impossible to say how many people are “into” FBBs in any serious manner, so let’s not try to guess. But it’s probably safe to say it’s a relatively smaller number in relation to the total human population on Earth.

Lindsay Mulinazzi should have been a supermodel.

On the second point, it should be noted that not all FBB fans are built the same. Some people are really into the kinky stuff, such as femdom roleplaying, domination, submission, sadomasochism, and other such activities. Others, on the other hand, simply enjoy the look, feel, and personalities of muscular women. We love watching them flex their enormous biceps rather than fantasize about them pouring hot candle wax on our balls as they give us a blow job while hanging us upside down. There’s nothing wrong with the latter, but it’s inaccurate to say that this represents the whole herd.

FBB fans may be into some kinky stuff, but normally it’s within fairly mainstream boundaries. We want to do things with an FBB that isn’t radically different from what we would normally do with a non-muscular professional dominatrix.

Or, FBB fans love muscular women for perfectly, uh, “vanilla” reasons (for lack of a better term). We love their strength (both physical and emotional), their curves, their ripped muscles, their personalities, and their unique display of femininity. We love them in ways that aren’t particularly unusual or strange once you think about it. It may seem odd at first, but it gets less odd the more you empathize with our passions.

Case in point: Watch this really quick video of Debbie Bramwell. It’s very simple in its setup but unbelievably erotic.

Have you finished watching it yet? Good. Let’s proceed.

This format is common for many FBB videos you’ll encounter on the Internet: A female bodybuilder posing in a hotel room. Usually in very little clothing. Usually with either no music or some pop song from the 1980’s that you’ve already forgotten about. It’s simple, easy, budget-friendly, and devilishly effective.

Maggie Watson at the gym while showing off why she goes to the gym.

All you need is a female bodybuilder, sexy lingerie or swimsuit, a camera, and a private space to record your video. It doesn’t have to be a hotel room. It could be someone’s living room, bedroom, backyard, or public beach. But there’s no need for elaborate set pieces, BDSM paraphernalia, or CGI visual effects. You don’t need special effects to make these ladies super muscular. They’ve accomplished that on their own!

Getting back to this video, this is Debbie at her finest. This is, in the humble opinion of this writer, one of the most erotic videos you’ll ever find on the web. Is it the #1 sexiest video I’ve ever seen? Eh, no. But it’s certainly up there!

In it, Debbie is sitting on a hotel bed wearing white lace lingerie. She’s showing off her muscles for the camera, putting special emphasis on her immaculate arms. Her veiny biceps are a delightful sight to behold. Her dark tanned skin perfectly showcases every curve, vein, and muscle fiber. This is why lighter-skinned bodybuilders need to spray tan their bodies before appearing on a competition stage. Darker skin allows you to see their definition better. Debbie demonstrates here why that’s the case, as if that argument needs to be made. After you catch your breath and wait for your heart rate to return back to normal, you’ll notice a few noteworthy observations:

1. 1. The video is simple
  2. The video is highly erotic
  3. The video doesn’t contain any graphic nudity or sexual content
  4. The video is on YouTube, not Pornhub

The outfit Debbie is wearing is quite sexy, but it’s not out-of-the-ordinary. Other than her extraordinary large muscles, you could just as likely see this in a magazine ad, shopping mall, fashion catalog, promoted Facebook post, or TV commercial. In other words, the concept of this video isn’t out of the mainstream, even though the specific subject is. We see images of beautiful women in their underwear all the time, unless you live under a rock or on an Amish plantation. The only thing that’s unusual about this video is that the woman in question happens to have large muscles. Other than that, it’s pretty basic. Very vanilla.

But the response it generates from us is – without question – worthy of discussion. I can’t speak for anyone but myself, so I’ll do just that. This video is really, really, really sexy. I mean, unspeakably sexy. Indescribably sexy. Incomprehensibly sexy. Debbie isn’t my favorite FBB of all time (she’s not even in my top 10), but in this short video that’s not even a minute and a half, she quickly reminds me why I fell in love with female bodybuilders in the first place. They made me feel things that very few other things could. I am reminded of back when I was 12 years old and I was first introduced to women like Pamela Anderson, Carmen Electra, Rena Mero (WWF’s Sable, for you kids who didn’t grow up in the 1990’s), Famke Janssen, and Monica Bellucci. As an adolescent boy, these women made my spine tingle, my vision turn hazy, and my, uh, private parts increase in blood flow. As I grew older, I figured those days would eventually fade away, as I become more desensitized to seeing beautiful women.

When you were a kid, do you remember walking past a store like this and wondering why mommy and daddy tried to distract you with promises of buying ice cream?

But then I discovered female bodybuilders at the tender age of 18. So 6 years after turning 12, I started to experience those same pubescent shenanigans all over again. Even today, re-watching this video of Miss Bramwell conjures up those same emotional responses. And I’m in my early 30s!

More so than any other video, I have such an uncontrollable urge to reach into my computer screen and rip off Debbie’s white lacey top. I want to see ALL OF HER. I can’t help it. It MUST happen. It’s a crime for her to wear that small piece of underwear. To cover up her beautiful body with such a meager piece of fabric. The same goes for her panties. WHY MUST SHE COVER UP THOSE PARTS OF HER? If she’s willing to show off 90% of her body, why can’t I see the other 10% of it? The fact she’d tease me like that seems almost cruel. I hope I’m not the only one who feels this way.

Then, eventually the rational part of my brain returns and talks some sense into me. Debbie is under no obligation to give me everything I want. From what I can tell, she keeps things really clean. She doesn’t do full nudity or participate in graphic sexual activities on camera. She keeps things PG-13 (or 12A for my readers in the United Kingdom). This is about as “explicit” as she gets. Yet, that is enough. The adult in me understands that not everyone is comfortable showing off everything. Everyone has their limits. And that is their prerogative.

The same could be said for Cindy Landolt, Theresa Ivancik, or Minna Pajulahti. They do not want to show us everything. Yet, they show us enough. And we should be grateful for that.

Need further examples? Sure you do!

Take a look at this two-minute video featuring Lindsay Mulinazzi. Or this gem from Alina Popa. What do all these videos have in common? You guessed it: They’re both unbelievably sexy and remarkably unexplicit.

Debbie, Lindsay, and Alina are dreams come true. They make us feel things in our souls that very few other things can. They make our hearts race a little faster and our breathing quicken. They make us want to relieve our built-up tension in, well, intimate ways that require privacy and maybe a little cleanup work afterward. These videos are highly erotic. They elicit physical and emotional responses out of us that more mainstream hardcore porn cannot replicate. This is, by definition, softcore porn. These women are dressed in ways that are perfectly acceptable at any public beach or water park. Open up the pages of Sports Illustrated or Vogue magazine and you’ll see women dressed exactly as they are. No need to purchase a contraband issue of Playboy or Hustler and hide it underneath your mattress. No need to open a private web browser and search through Pornhub. Nah, just do a simple search on YouTube and you can find all three of these gloriously simple videos.

And therein lies the contradiction at play here. When we think of the word “pornographic,” we usually think about hardcore elements like penetrative sex, kinky roleplaying, and graphic nudity. We think about Denise Masino’s 15-minute long videos where the camera lingers up-close near her vagina, giving us a free gynecological exam. We think about Yvette Bova’s 30-minute long videos where she gang bangs multiple guys one after another. We think about Brandi Mae Akers leaving nothing to the imagination. Normally, this is how our society defines “porn.” Explicit. Raunchy. Graphic. Socially unacceptable. Taboo. Forbidden. Guilt-ridden.

But technically speaking, this isn’t always true. “Porn” is defined on Wikipedia as “the portrayal of sexual subject matter for the exclusive purpose of sexual arousal.” That’s it. Any media that stimulates sexual arousal. It doesn’t have to be explicit, though it often is. It can be as hardcore as anything you’ll find on Pornhub or Xhamster, or as nongraphic as anything you’ll find on YouTube. Does graphic nudity occasionally slip through YouTube’s filters and community guidelines? Sure. But you know what I mean.

This is what I mean by FBB porn being appropriate for the whole family. It’s not literally true, but technically true. You may not gather the whole family around the dinner table and watch videos of Debbie Bramwell flexing her biceps for the camera, but you wouldn’t hesitate to take your family out to a shopping mall (back when such institutions were open, of course) and occasionally stroll by a Victoria’s Secret store. Those wall-to-wall advertisements that stretch from the ceiling to the floor are just as explicit as what you’ll see in the three videos I’ve shared. Yet, we don’t necessarily consider those corporate promotional displays as being pornographic.

But in a way, they are. Which, by extension, also means modest videos of FBBs strutting around in their underwear are also pornographic.

However, it’s not just the surface-level content of those videos that make them so erotically charged. It’s the reaction they get from us. Debbie Bramwell isn’t my favorite FBB of all time, but in the moment as I’m watching her flex for the camera in white lace underwear, she might as well be a Muscle Goddess Sent From Heaven. Because she sure seems like one! But this illustrates the fascinating dynamic at play. It’s the ultimate irony. I could watch an hour-long video of generic skinny ladies in their early 20s have group sex with a bunch of generic faceless dudes and get bored really fast. We see boobs bouncing up and down. We see pussies being pounded into submission. We see semen get blasted in their faces. We see lots of explicit stuff that’s without question NSFW. But it’s all so boring. And basic. And uncreative. And sleep-inducing.

Yet, I can watch that video of Debbie (if you do the math, you basically get about 60 seconds worth of Debbie content) with my eyes glued to the screen and hope I don’t suffer cardiac arrest when it’s all over. I’m captivated. My imagination goes into overdrive. I feel the sudden urge to relieve my tension in the privacy of my apartment. The same goes for Lindsay content. And Alina content. And when I scroll through Cindy Landolt’s Instagram pages.

On the surface, it’s appropriate for the whole family. But for a certain number of us, it sends our hormones into thermonuclear warfare. The 90% of her body that Debbie is willing to show off is 10,000 times more erotic than the 100% your typical nameless pornographic actress will display ad nauseam. Maybe 10,000 is an underestimation.

We are frustrated that Debbie won’t show off her goods. We are itching to reach through our computer screens, tear off her underwear, and toss it into the garbage can where it belongs. We crave to see Debbie in her full glory. Yet, we don’t need to. Debbie has generously shown us everything we need to see. We are not entitled to more. We should be thankful for the content we already have at our fingertips.

Thus, this is the perplexing predicament we find ourselves in. What really sets us off is, oddly enough, the benign. What really turns us on are women who possess a physique that only the 1% of the 1% of the 1% can say they’ve attained. Debbie, Lindsay, and Alina are in rare company. They are unicorns. They are the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Because of this, it doesn’t take much for them to make us go mad. We become crazy, deranged, and uncontrollably irrational at the simplest things.

A beautiful woman in her underwear.

A beautiful woman in a bikini.

A beautiful woman working out at the gym.

A beautiful woman walking down the street.

It’s all so uncomplicated. Yet so majestic. The whole family can see things like it on an everyday basis, but not everyone will appreciate it as much. Not everyone agrees that female bodybuilders are gorgeous creatures who deserve respect. Not everyone is in that camp.

But we are. And that’s a beautiful thing.

All Hail Queen Alina

Bow down and worship Alina Popa!

Alina Popa is the GOAT.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the lingo the kids are using these days, “GOAT” is not an insult. It’s not what Charlie Brown feared he would be if he were to give up the losing run at the end of his playground baseball game. It’s not an animal. It’s not one of the 12 Chinese zodiac signs. No. GOAT stands for Greatest of All Time. It’s the highest compliment one can bestow upon a person. It’s a high honor.

Miss Popa is the GOAT. Or a GOAT. Or one of the GOATs. Or in the top 5. Or top 10. We can’t all agree where she ranks among the greatest female bodybuilders in the history of the sport, but for the time being most of us should be able to recognize that Alina is one the best of the best of the best of the best.

For many reasons, Alina has captured our hearts and imaginations. She’s beloved. She boasts near universal adoration. Everyone loves and respects her. If you were to take a straw poll of one thousand female muscle fans worldwide and ask them who their favorite FBB currently is, I’d wager a guess that more than 80% would have Alina somewhere in their top 5. If she’s not in their top 10, then they’ve lost all credibility as far as I’m concerned. If they’ve never even heard of her, then I don’t know if it’s fair to call them a female muscle fan in the first place.

Alina’s appeal is fascinating to break down. She doesn’t have the crossover appeal of Cindy Landolt, yet she’s probably more beloved than she is. Alina doesn’t participate in sexually explicit pornography like Denise Masino or Brandi Mae Akers, yet she’s still considered unbelievably sexy. She isn’t as prominent on social media as Lauren Drain, but Alina is heads and shoulders more popular than Miss Drain will ever be. That isn’t to insult Miss Landolt, Miss Masino, Miss Akers, or Miss Drain – but rather to point out the impressiveness of Miss Popa’s popularity.

But it isn’t just about popularity. It’s emotional appeal. Alina makes us feel things. Intense things. Intense thoughts, feelings, and fantasies. One does not simply look at a picture of Alina flexing her large muscles and not experience a rise in blood pressure. Unless one is already in a vegetative state. Heck, looking at Alina’s body of work may very well put you in a vegetative state. And you probably wouldn’t complain too loudly when that happens.

She is a unique lady. She’s a one-of-a-kind. Her appeal is both obvious and not obvious at the same time. Alina is the GOAT, but she’s more than that. She’s a queen. No, rather she’s THE Queen. The Queen of Female Bodybuilding.

Alina Popa was born on October 12, 1978 in Brăila, Romania. Like many female bodybuilders, she led a fairly active lifestyle, having competed in track and field sports since she was 12 years old. In her late teens and early 20s, Alina became a regular gymgoer and started to do what guys always do at the gym but some ladies are reluctant to: lift weights.

In 2000, she placed 2^nd in a local regional contest, which probably boosted her confidence and gave her the “hunger” to compete in more. That obviously set off a firestorm. The rest of her impressive résumé is as follows:

2000 IFBB National Championship – 3rd (HW)
2003 IFBB National Championship – 1st (MW)
2004 IFBB European Championship – 2nd (HW)
2005 Mixed Pairs European Championship – 2nd
2005 Women’s European Championship – 5th
2006 Grand Prix Due Torri – 1st
2007 NABBA Miss Universe – 1st (Miss Physique class)
2008 IFBB Worlds Santa Susanna – 1st (Overall and HW)
2010 IFBB Ms. International – 8th
2011 IFBB Ms. International – 3rd
2011 IFBB Ms. Olympia – 5th
2012 IFBB Ms. International – 3rd
2012 IFBB Ms. Olympia – 4th
2013 IFBB Ms. Olympia – 2nd
2014 IFBB Ms. Olympia – 2nd
2016 WOS Rising Phoenix World Championships – 3rd
2018 IFBB Muscle Vodka Tampa Pro – 1st
2018 Rising Phoenix World Championships – 1st

There’s no need to rehash the controversy in 2014 when Alina placed 2^nd to Iris Kyle in the final Ms. Olympia contest. Alina placed 2^nd the previous year and every prognosticator thought this would be the year the seemingly unstoppable Miss Kyle would be unseated. Alas, that did not happen. Iris won her 17^th overall IFBB professional title, an eyepopping achievement that deserves considerable recognition. But in the hearts and minds of FBB fans everywhere, Alina deserved to place 1^st at least once while the Ms. Olympia still existed. She may not have persuaded enough judges to earn that crown, but she’s definitely earned our awe and admiration. We understand that one’s accomplishments are not always defined by others.

So as far as professional competitions go, Alina may not technically be the GOAT, but she’s nevertheless one of the greatest to ever have stepped onto the stage. But for those of us who don’t need external validation for the things we love, we can live with that. Others who crave that validation are probably still bitter to this day.

Alina is a Queen because she’s everything you could possibly ask for in a female bodybuilder. She has it all: Brains, beauty, brawn, charm, and grace. She’s beautiful, yet approachable. She’s accomplished, yet humble. She’s tough, yet kind. She’s relentless, yet grounded. She’s glamourous, yet authentic. She’s strong, yet compassionate. She’s muscular, yet still unquestionably feminine. She’s big, yet curvy. She’s confident, yet amicable. She’s a woman, yet she doesn’t let her gender define her.

Her body is flawless. Some may have been disappointed when she decided to get breast implants, but that is neither here nor there. She can choose to enhance herself if it makes her happy. Alina has achieved the near impossible: She appeals to female muscle fans across the entire spectrum. She appeases those who love big, big, big muscles. She also appeases the folks on the other side of the aisle who value traditional femininity and are turned off by FBBs who exhibit too many “masculine” qualities. There’s nothing masculine about Miss Popa. She’s as feminine as can be.

When the sport of female bodybuilding rose to prominence in the 1970s, there was a stigma attached to women who were so bulky it (supposedly) compromised their “femininity.” As a result, many female competitors intentionally chose to not get too big out of fear it would damage their ability to win contests. That’s bad news. So praising Alina’s uncanny ability to perfectly balance femininity and muscularity is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s the reason why she’s so beloved by female muscle fans around the world. On the other hand, it feeds into the perception that female bodybuilders are somehow obligated to also look feminine because not looking sufficiently feminine can be detrimental to their success.

Hm. This is an awkward place to be. It’s discouraging to praise ladies like Alina, Cindy, and Minna Pajulahti for their femininity and strength because – even if it’s implicitly implied – it reinforces the belief that women who are not like them are somehow inferior. Jennifer Kennedy and Kathy Connors are not inferior. They’re also awesome and deserving of respect. They may not get the same universal adoration as the previous group, but they are still worthy of our undying love. It’s much easier to defend Cindy Landolt than it is Miss Kennedy, a fact that begrudgingly acknowledges the reality that traditional femininity still matters to a great deal of people.

FBBs like Miss Kennedy have deep voices, masculine-looking faces, and a “roughness” about them that makes a lot of people feel uncomfortable. One cannot deny that, even though one can also argue that these features do not chip away at her identity as a strong sexy woman. Alina’s presence is a breath of fresh air because she checks every box a female muscle fan could ask for, in addition to not having to carry much of the baggage typically associated with muscular women.

There isn’t a whole lot you can criticize about Alina. But we think of her as a Queen not just because of her crossover appeal, flawless beauty, perfect balance between muscularity and femininity, and considerable professional accomplishments. She’s earned her Queen Status because she makes us feel things very few other women – muscular or not – can also conjure up.

One of her most famous talents is the ability to isolate her muscles and bounce them on command. It makes us swoon faster than a pack of teen girls at an Elvis concert circa 1956. She can wiggle her glutes, bounce her pecs, and make her quads dance as if it were a cast member of Soul Train. Her muscle control is a sight to behold. It takes your breath away. Your eyes are peeled to the screen as you watch her show off her skills. It’s a shocking reminder of how in control she is of her body. She doesn’t just spend hours a day at the gym building her body – she owns her body. It doesn’t own her. She knows her physical self better than most of us think is even possible. That’s quite an accomplishment.

Watching Alina control her muscles – and knowing that we can never do that no matter how hard we try – makes us appreciate her that much more. She’s a Queen because she controls her domain with an iron fist. She’s a Queen because she doesn’t let anybody stand in her way. She’s a Queen because she does what she wants, looks the way she wants, and pursues her dreams with reckless abandon.

For the longest time Alina chose not to get breast implants. Then, she went under the knife in 2017 and looks great as a result. Does she look better? Yeah, but once again this is a tricky area. That isn’t to imply that she looked inferior before. She looked stunning before surgery and she still looks stunning today. Personally, I am not super picky about whether or not an FBB chooses to get breast implants. I love strong flat chested beauties as much as I love strong enhanced beauties. Fans may bicker and argue amongst themselves, but you’ll find no quarrel with me.

Whenever I scroll through photos and videos of Miss Popa I’m reminded of the famous quote from William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet when Romeo remarks “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.” Likewise, before Alina, true beauty did not exist. You’ve never actually seen a truly breathtaking woman until you witnessed Alina in action. Watching her strut toward the camera, flex her quads, and give the viewer a sweet but naughty smile is enough to give us cardiac arrest. But more than that, it’s sort of like a spiritual experience. Your brain realizes it’s seeing something that’s different from what it’s seen before. It’s difficult to explain, but universally understood by those who’ve experienced it.

Watching Alina is like being touched by the hand of divinity. You notice every muscle fiber, every curve, every fine detail of her immaculate body and wonder how a human being could possibly look that way. It’s as though every “traditionally beautiful” woman you’ve ever seen don’t matter anymore. Like Romeo, Shakespeare’s famous male protagonist thought he’d seen it all. He thought he knew what a beautiful woman looked like. Then, he saw Juliet. And his whole world came to a crashing halt. His paradigm shifted. His perspective changed forever. What he thought he knew he immediately threw away into the trash can.

He knew nothing. And now he knows everything.

In similar fashion, we thought the “perfect woman” would look like Marilyn Monroe or Pamela Anderson or Trish Stratus or Megan Fox. Little did we know that our standards were way too low. Heck, our standards weren’t even in the right curriculum. Alina Popa dominates them all. She vanquishes her enemies like Alexander the Great marching through Persia. She redefines beauty, or even transcends the word “beauty.” Yes, that’s more like it. She transcends all conventional wisdom.

Alina transcends the sport of bodybuilding. She’s bigger than it – metaphorically speaking. She’s in her own class. She may not be the most accomplished or legendary or historically noteworthy, but she’s loved by everyone who knows her or knows of her. There’s also something strangely pure about her. She rarely does nudity (only a few photos of her topless exist) and she never does any kind of porn. That isn’t to demean any FBB who does go down that path, of course. But in Alina’s case, it works to her advantage. She’s sexy, but not in a naughty kind of way. She’s sexy in a way that isn’t wholesome (this isn’t the Disney Channel), but it’s not gratuitous either. Her sexiness is more charming than sinful.

If this seems like a series of rambling observations, that’s because it’s impossible to succinctly explain why Alina Popa is so amazing. All one can do is talk endlessly about why one loves her. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not rational. It’s unambiguous, yet not easy to describe.

In short, Alina Popa is a Queen because she exhibits one characteristic that very few beautiful women can match: Control.

Her muscle control is one thing. Her control over our hearts and minds is another. She controls us. Her beauty, brains, personality, aura, and ethereal nature have us in the palm of her callused hand. She can do the most mundane activity and make us go crazy. She can walk down a hallway wearing heels. She can bake bread. She can sit on a couch and watch TV. She can lie down on a bed and simply look up at the camera and smile. She can just stand there wearing a bikini and not say a single word. Alina can do anything and still make us go gaga over her. She doesn’t have to try to be sexy. She just is. Whether she’s wearing sweatpants or an elegant dress or a sparkly bikini, Alina appeals to us no matter what.

Come to think of it, she’s the most minimalistic female bodybuilder in the world. She’s simple. She doesn’t need to put too much effort into being sexually appetizing. She simply is…all because she busts her butt at the gym day-in and day-out. She makes immense sacrifices to look the way she looks. She puts in more work in a single day than most of us do in a month. And she does this because she wants to. It empowers her. It inspires her. It’s motivates her to get out of bed every morning. It’s her raison d’être. And we are grateful for her for making these tough decisions.

I believe Alina once told a story on Instagram about how her Romanian mother at first didn’t approve of her daughter becoming a female bodybuilder because Romanian girls are supposed to be “narrow and skinny.” But once Alina started winning trophies and accolades, her mother fortunately altered her opinion. Alina breaks stereotypes. She challenges what you thought you knew about female bodybuilders. And she does it with the cutest smile on her face.

Her muscle control mirrors her emotional control over her fans. Female bodybuilders are often described as being either “queens” or “goddesses.” A goddess is a deity who’s powerful but remains fairly detached from human civilization. A queen is also powerful but directly rules over her kingdom. A True Queen looks after her people with kindness, benevolence, and sternness. She’s authoritative, but not oppressive. A True Queen earns the trust of her people, as opposed to ruling over them through fear. A True Queen’s legitimacy comes from a place of love, not malice.

Alina Popa is loved. That is why she’s a Queen. Not because she says she’s a Queen, but because we say she’s a Queen. Because we want her to be our Queen. She’s a democratically elected Muscle Queen, not one imposed upon us by a third party. See the difference?

All hail Queen Alina!

Angela Salvagno: A Female Bodybuilder for All Seasons

Angela Salvagno is a woman for every season.

The Perfect Female Bodybuilder may not exist. Never has, never will. But “perfection,” like any aesthetic (and non-statistical) standard, is all in the eye of the beholder. Perfection is an opinion more than an objective fact, something we should remember more often. It’ll make our personal relationships much more bearable.

And, of course, no female bodybuilder will ever be universally liked. Or universally fawned upon. Or, for that matter, universally accepted as being “more than okay.” Thankfully, consensus is not always the best measurement of one’s self-worth. Especially when we live in a world where there are five (and counting) sequels to “Transformers.” That’s five too many.

Angela Salvagno isn’t a consensus “favorite FBB of all time” pick. Nor is she someone who is polarizing. I don’t think there are people who love or hate her. It seems more fair to say that there are people who love her, like her, are indifferent to her, and could not care less about her. Hate her? Nah. That’s not a reasonable response.

Personally, I love Angela Salvagno. I think she’s awesome. She isn’t one of my all-time favorites, although she deserves to be in my top 10. As the kids like to say these days, she isn’t the GOAT. Denise Masino is a GOAT. Alina Popa is a GOAT. Cindy Landolt is a GOAT.

Huh?

Oh yeah. “GOAT” means Greatest of All Time. Not “goat” as in what Charlie Brown tried to avoid being labeled on the baseball mound.

Angela Salvagno is a Female Bodybuilder for All Seasons. That isn’t to mean that she’s philosophically, spiritually, and morally incorruptible in the face of external societal pressure. No, that would be Sir Thomas More. Rather, Miss Salvagno incorporates a multitude of characteristics that make up the identity of a modern female bodybuilder. She does many of them well. Not perfectly, but well enough to capture our undivided attention.

Angela Salvagno was born on January 13, 1976 in Willows, California. After growing up in Orland, CA, Angela now lives in South Florida. Or maybe she’s moved back and resides in Northern California again. Who knows. Her biographical information is sketchy at best. She is of Italian, German, and Native American descent. She’s always been sporty, having participated in baseball and Tae Kwon Do before pursuing bodybuilding. She began lifting weights at age 16 and competed in her first show when she was 23 (give or take). She started competing in 1999 and can still be seen on the stage today. That’s 20 years as a serious competitor, for those of you keeping score at home. Most recently, she competed in the 2018 IFBB Tampa Pro, placing 11^th in the Women’s Bodybuilding category. Miss Popa finished 1^st, naturally.

Speaking of which, unlike Alina Popa very few bodybuilding fans will consider Angela an elite competitor. Her résumé is still spectacular, though. She’s done quite a lot in her career on the stage, but in recent years she hasn’t made large waves. But she doesn’t need to.

I’ve written about “classy” vs. “smutty” female bodybuilders before. As an example, Cindy Landolt and Deidre Pagnanelli are classy while Yvette Bova and Kathy Connors are smutty. Before we continue, I’d like to point out that these labels have nothing to do with who these women are individually. Rather, these are the public personas they’ve each chosen to adopt. This is how they choose to market themselves. Just because Cindy and Deidre keep nudity to a minimum (and never have sex on camera) doesn’t mean they’re prudes. Just because Yvette does videos where she has unprotected sex with a half dozen men all at once doesn’t mean she’s less deserving of respect. Her choice to be smutty is a personal choice. It empowers her. It enlivens her. It provides her with a steady career. And income. Regardless of which path these ladies choose to take, they all demand our love, affection, and most of all, utmost respect. Period, end of story. So this is not a judgement, but an observation.

That being said, Angela definitely leans in the “smutty” side of the spectrum. She is not hesitant about showing off her body. Every inch of her body. She’s worked hard to achieve her physique and she wants the entire universe to see it on display. She isn’t tall (she stands at only 5’ 3”) but she’s statuesque nevertheless. She’s perfectly sculpted. Her olive complexion allows her musculature to stand out. When she’s strutting around in high heels, she achieves full Muscle Goddess status. And when she’s being dirty…well, that’s when she achieves full Sex Goddess status.

Physically, Angela is nearly everything you want in a female bodybuilder. I was surprised to see that she’s only 5’ 3”. Another source says she’s 5’ 5”. Regardless, I was shocked. When you watch her videos and see her photos, she looks like she’s 6 feet tall. Towering. Authoritative. Powerful. In reality, she’s shorter than me. That’s an odd thing to think about. Her skin is perfect. It’s golden brown like the spray tan most bodybuilders have to use when competing. I don’t know if she uses any of that before walking on stage, but it doesn’t appear as though she has to.

Her face is pretty, but not stunning. Angela is more beautiful than the clichéd “girl-next-door” aesthetic, but she isn’t so gorgeous you feel like looking at her will turn you into stone. She has curves in all the right places but just enough muscle mass to appease those who value that sort of thing. She’s feminine but tough. Cocky to the point that it may annoy you, but you don’t care because you’re captivated by her sensual personality. Miss Salvagno’s “bad girl” act can wear thin at times, however that’s a small bone to pick. Overall, there isn’t much I can complain about her. I really, really like her. A lot. She is one of my favorites, after all.

An interesting observation: Like many FBBs, Denise doesn’t do many videos where she’s having sex with a man. She’s done videos where she wrestles guys, but not too many where she’s knocking boots with them between the sheets. There was, however, one noteworthy appearance on Showtime’s reality show Gigolos. Angela appeared in episode 5 of season 4 that aired on May 16, 2013. She has sex with the show’s star, Nick Hawk, after she shamelessly shows off her muscled physique for the camera. You can watch a clip of it on YouTube. You’ll have to dig around for the entire thing.

But other than that, Angela remains surprisingly chaste on camera. She isn’t quite like Denise Masino, whom I will compare Angela to momentarily. Denise is practically virginal when it comes to her on-camera persona. And on the other end of the continuum is Yvette Bova, who loves to stick as many penises into every orifice possible. Miss Bova craves getting it on with the cameras rolling. Denise is more shy – or professionally/morally/philosophically disinclined – about doing that. That’s her choice, of course. Not a complaint.

Angela loves showing off her body and being sexy, even if doing the deed with a guy or gal isn’t frequently part of the equation. I don’t think that’s anybody’s loss. She gives us plenty to enjoy. When she isn’t talking dirty to the camera, Angela can often be seen spreading her legs out wide and giving viewers an up-close look at her genitalia. Here is where it is appropriate to compare Miss Salvagno to Miss Masino.

Like Denise, Angela possesses beautiful genitalia. Long labia, enormous clitoris, pink vaginal walls, and neatly trimmed pubic hair give her the complete package. She’s gorgeous down there. I can’t tell if her clit is larger or smaller than Denise’s, but that’s almost beside the point. Both ladies have memorable genitals that fans cannot get enough of. It’s hypnotic, an addictive drug you can’t shake off. Once you get a good look at it, you’ll want to see more of it, over and over again. And like Denise, Angela knows it’s one of her most prized assets. It’s her moneymaker. Her fans love what she’s packing down there between her thick legs. She’s sporting more meat than some guys can claim to have (although that’s quite an exaggeration, so please forgive me). All in all, Miss Salvagno gives credence to the notion that women are independent and sovereign sexual beings who desire pleasure just as much as men do. If not more. There’s no doubt that Miss Salvagno enjoys her sexual abilities.

Unlike Denise, Angela isn’t as prolific in creating new videos for her fans. She’ll do videos if approached by a multimedia production company like Aziani Iron or SheMuscle. But she isn’t one to take matters into her own hands and film weekly videos of her doing sexy things like masturbating her clit or teasing us while wearing an enormous strap-on. As strange as this sounds in the 21^st Century, Angela doesn’t even appear to have a personal website. She’s on Twitter and Instagram, though. But that’s about it. Very odd for a female bodybuilder in 2019.

But that’s okay. Miss Salvagno doesn’t need to produce the same abundance of media as Miss Masino. That would be awesome, but it’s her choice if she prefers to have a more low-key web presence. But what places her in the upper stratosphere of female bodybuilders is the fact that she can do it all. She’s considered “mainstream” within the bodybuilding industry, but also dabbles in “adult entertainment” with gleeful pride. I’m guessing the taboo of female bodybuilders also doing porn has waned in recent years. In the past, I believe such activities would be frowned upon by competition judges. Today, it’s most likely accepted (even begrudgingly) as the cost of doing business. More specifically, there isn’t enough cost of doing business so modern day FBBs need to create their own business in order to put food on the table and keep the lights on.

So she can compete on the stage and at the same time mark her territory in the world of pornography. On top of that, she’s well known among FBB fans worldwide. And she’s considered conventionally beautiful too. Well, maybe not as gorgeous as a Victoria’s Secret underwear model, but beautiful enough to make your heart flutter when you see her. She has a raspy voice, but she knows how to use it to her advantage. Especially when she’s having an orgasm. When she’s coming, she squeaks, squawks, and splutters to her heart’s delight. She doesn’t hold back. It’s quite a sight to see! And music to my ears.

We must talk about this. Angela, like many FBBs, is one well-endowed woman. There’s a reason why she isn’t shy about showing off her clit for the camera. She also has meaty labia that can stretch for several inches. Five or six inches, maybe? It’s hard to say for sure. Her considerable genitalia is a useful reminder that women are not merely men without penises. She may not have a penis, but she certainly has genitals. And unlike many women, her genitals are not entirely internal. Lots of it is external. I’m a big believer in the theory that this is at the heart of explaining our society’s historical attitudes toward male and female sexuality.

It’s easy to see men as sexual creatures because their sex organ is obvious. It’s outward. It’s external. It’s plain to see. Women, by contrast, possess sex organs that are less obvious. The vagina is inward. It’s internal. It’s not something you can plainly see – unless she spreads her legs out wide and parts her folds with her fingers as if she’s preparing to get a gynecological exam. Because of this difference, humankind naturally treats men as the proactive sexual provider and women as the passive sexual recipient. In the act of reproduction, that is technically true. But physiologically and psychologically speaking, that cannot be further from the truth.

The truth is that women are in fact sexual beings. They can be the proactive sexual provider if they are allowed to play that role. And, if they want to play that role. Many cultures forbid women from being the one who initiates sex. However, Angela Salvagno and many of her peers are living proof that this is a social construct, not destiny. Biology doesn’t determine your fate. Miss Salvagno’s meaty genitals prove that not only is she capable of experiencing sexual pleasure, but her genitals exist solely for sexual pleasure. Her genitals are not a commodity but a prize. It’s a tool for pleasure. Her pleasure. If a partner happens to be involved with her journey in seeking pleasure, that’s fantastic. But it’s not a requirement. Far from it.

Instead, she can experience as many orgasms as she wants all on her own. She doesn’t need a partner. She has her own fingers. And equipment like dildos, clit pumps, and vibrators. Her very existence is a slap in the face to the antiquated argument that women are not capable of being in charge of their own sexual destinies. This is part of why Angela is so special. Unlike the countless number of female porn actresses who participate in the world of “adult entertainment,” Angela isn’t trying to flatter her (almost) nonexistent male costar. She doesn’t screech, scream, moan, groan, gasp, swear like a sailor, and cry out to the Almighty just because her male viewers like hearing that stuff and it makes her male costar look like a stud. She screeches and moans because she’s enjoying herself. She’s experiencing her pleasure the way she wants to experience it. With or without a partner.

Because Angela’s gigantic genitals are right in front of you (of course, with a computer screen acting as a pesky medium), you cannot deny her sexual sovereignty. You cannot deny that her clit exists for one function only…and her willingness to utilize its function as often as she desires. Miss Salvagno is a Liberated Woman epitomized. She is who she is and she refuses to apologize if anybody is offended or disgusted by her antics.

Whether she’s measuring the size of her clit when elongated in a clip pump tube or wearing a comically large brown strap-on dildo, Angela Salvagno knows she’s sexy, knows her audience thinks she’s sexy, and doesn’t care that the general public ignores her. Heck, in that episode of Gigolos her scene partner Nick Hawk looks intimidated by her. Perhaps it’s all an act (which is probably closer to the truth since there’s nothing “real” about “reality television”), but he seems to appear like his masculinity is being tested when he’s with her. She has big muscles like he does. She seems in control. He seems more like the client than she does. He feels compelled to prove his masculine superiority because her very presence challenges it.

Does he – and by vicarious extension, every man who is watching this episode – succeed? It doesn’t matter, to be honest. Her feminine strength doesn’t invalidate his masculine strength. She may make some men feel insecure (many FBBs do, for the record) about themselves, but that’s more of a reflection of them than it is of her. She may excel at projecting the “bad girl” image, but that’s not who she really is. She doesn’t want to emasculate you…she just wants you to feel naughty.

Oh so naughty.

But if she happens to force you to reevaluate your own inflated sense of masculine superiority, so be it. If your ego is that overblown that you are genuinely intimidated by a strong muscular woman standing right in front of you, you probably deserve to feel a tad uncomfortable.

She is that multi-talented!

That is why Angela Salvagno is a Female Bodybuilder for All Seasons. She doesn’t have Cindy Landolt’s striking beauty, Denise Masino’s endearing charm, Alina Popa’s eye-popping physique, Yvette Bova’s unrestrained smuttiness, or Minna Pajulahti’s natural feminine grace. But she has just enough of all of those qualities to make her as lovable as any of them. She’s isn’t considered “elite” in any particular category, but she can hold her own when put to the test.

No matter where she is or what she’s doing, she goes about her business with gusto, energy, and pride. She has only one life to live and she’s making the most of it. No matter what season it is.

A Female Bodybuilder Christmas Carol (part 2 of 3)

When you think of Gail, picture in your mind DeeAnn Donovan.

Continued from part one

After brushing his teeth and taking a quick hot shower, Ebenezer Scrooge goes to his bedroom so that he can get to sleep for real. No naps in his lounge chair. No awful Chinese take-out. No cheap brandy that’ll mess with his head the next morning. None of that shit. Scrooge is trying to forget the conversation he had with the deceased Jacob Marley, but how the hell can you possibly get that out of your mind?

It’s not every day that your dead business partner returns to the land of the living with the intent of delivering an ominous message involving ghosts or whatever.

Sheesh.

The grandfather clock sitting in his bedroom says it is a quarter past midnight. It’s technically Christmas, if that’s significant of anything. Scrooge doesn’t think so. He wonders if Fred’s party is still going on. But he decides he doesn’t actually care. It’s not like he’d ever get properly dressed and drive over there to see if it’s still popping. No, that would be absurd. He’ll settle for dreaming about ghosts instead.

Scrooge turns off the light and tucks himself in bed. A picture of he and Gail from a random bodybuilding contest in 1993 still sits on his bedside table. He has no intention of placing it in the dresser drawer so that it can be forgotten. For whatever reason, Scrooge still thinks about her. Not so much his three other wives. They can all rot in Hell where they belong. There was something about Gail that causes her to still linger in his cold heart. Something special…

He closes his eyes and promptly falls asleep.

Minutes pass. The grandfather clock strikes one. But it is not the clock’s chime that wakes him up. No, it’s instead the agonizing sound of a tapping on his window. Scrooge alertly sits up, breathing hard. Sweat is pouring down his face. He knows what’s about to happen. He dreads with every fiber of his being the frightening presence of the first spirit Jacob foretold. Scrooge stands up and walks toward the window. Should he open it and let the ghost in? Do ghosts need to be let in, like a dog who’s just taken a shit in the front yard? He never was very religious or took much serious thought about the supernatural. But he decides to open the latch of the window anyway.

A blue streak of light sashays into Scrooge’s bedroom. It twirls, dances, flutters up and down, and eventually stands still in the middle of the room. The light expands, forming a large blue disc that spins in a circle like a flying saucer from an H.G. Wells novel. The disc grows taller, with Scrooge being able to clearly see the shape of a human being inside it. The figure is hunched over. The blue light explodes suddenly, sending Scrooge hurling backwards onto his bed.

“Dear God! Ow!” Scrooge hits his head against the wall. The light dies down. The figure stands up straight and turns toward him. Like a proper host, Scrooge – still wearing his pajamas – attempts to greet it with a certain level of formality and politeness.

“Are you the first spirit who’s coming was foretold?” Scrooge asks. Once his eyes are able to adjust to the darkness, he is better able to see who this ghost is. It appears to be…

…a naked young woman.

Oh wow. Scrooge feels a tingle run down his spine. He may have also felt a surge of electricity enter his groin. When was the last time that shit happened? Scrooge cannot recall. The ghostly figure appears to be floating in mid-air. The blue light has faded, but her angelic glow remains. The spirit turns toward Scrooge and speaks.

The Ghost of Christmas Past looks just like Rachel McLish.

“Yes, I am. Good evening, Ebenezer.” Scrooge peers closely at the spirit. He gasps when he sees her face. The ghost bears an uncanny resemblance to Tanya Morganthall, one of the most famous female bodybuilders of the 1970s. Tall, brunette, with striking brown eyes, Tanya revolutionized the sport. She introduced female bodybuilding to the world by exploding onto the scene after being discovered at a small gym in San Diego. It was her appearance on the cover of the September 1974 issue of Fit & Sporty Magazine that changed Ebenezer’s life forever. Her graceful beauty combined with sleek, angular muscles shifted his paradigm: the way he viewed femininity, womanhood, beauty, and bodybuilding. He hid a copy of the magazine underneath his mattress and used it whenever he felt the, uh, “need” to use it. Scrooge may still own it even today.

“My God. You strike a remarkable resemblance to, uh, Tanya Morganthall,” Scrooge squeaks with the nervousness of a school boy talking to a cute girl for the first time. “You aren’t her, are you?”

The spirit giggles, then comes close to Ebenezer. He feels his pulse racing. “Of course not. The real Tanya Morganthall is happily retired in Lubbock, Texas. She’s now a grandmother of four. No, I am merely an apparition that looks like her. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”

“The Ghost of Christmas Past? How quaint!” Ebenezer scoffs. “What are you going to do? Take me back in time so that I can see how my terrible decisions decades ago forged a path for me to become the grumpy old miser I am today?”

The Ghost of Christmas Past looks stunned. She blinks several times. “Uh, yeah. That’s sort of the plan. Huh. Good for you, knowing what I’m here for,” she begins. “Shall we get to it? Might as well.”

Scrooge stands up to regard the spirit closer. Sure enough, she looks exactly like a youthful Tanya Morganthall. In the nude. Floating in the air. Scrooge met the real Tanya Morganthall once, at a party twenty-eight years ago in Last Vegas. He hit on her, but she rebuked his advances. She was already married and had a child. But Ebenezer never let reality get in the way of him pursuing his fantasies.

“Yes, spirit. Let’s get this party started.” Scrooge puts on a nightcap, as if he’ll actually need it. The Ghost of Christmas Past extends her hand and Scrooge delightfully takes it. The window, which is already cracked opened, shatters into a million pieces. Scrooge, guided by the spirit’s magical touch, flies off into the distance. The horizon explodes with an intense white light that forces him to close his eyes. He can feel the freezing air cascading off his body. He’s flying, but he feels more like he’s floating. It’s strange.

When Ebenezer opens his eyes, he finds himself situated inside a familiar motel bedroom. It’s December 25, 1989. Early evening. It’s somewhere along the Oregon coast. The small picturesque bed and breakfast establishment is perfect for a romantic getaway. That’s exactly where Ebenezer and his future first wife, Gail, were staying on this fateful evening. The room is empty, cold, and dark. Just as Ebenezer was going to ask the spirit a question, he hears joyful laughter off into the distance.

“What a gorgeous evening. What a perfect day this has been, Ebenezer!”

Scrooge immediately recognizes this voice. It’s Gail! He hasn’t spoken to her in decades. They met a few months prior at a photoshoot in Venice Beach. He was enthralled by her. She was too. And when he promised her stardom, she couldn’t resist him. Ebenezer hears the sound of the door being unlocked. Suddenly, it opens. Scrooge nearly dies of a heart attack when he sees the figures of two familiar individuals walking in.

It’s him and Gail!

Albeit, both of them are a lot younger. Nearly 30 years younger, to be exact. Ebenezer marvels at his dark hair, fit physique, and stylish clothing. Why doesn’t he look that good anymore? And Gail looks just as stunning as ever. Long dirty blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and muscles to spare. She was wearing a red overcoat that made her look like royalty. By his standards, she was royalty. The Ghost of Christmas Past guides Ebenezer to the far corner of the room. It then occurs to him whether or not they can see them.

“Are they able to see us, spirit?” he asks.

“No, Ebenezer. These are mere shadows of events that have come before. They are not real, just as I am not real. You are witnessing history, not an active participant of it,” the ghost explains. “They can neither see nor hear us.”

It is at that exact moment that Ebenezer remembers why this evening is so important. It is the first time they ever made love. Before, she kept a strict “respectable Catholic woman” distance from her new boyfriend. But today, she felt comfortable enough around him to shed that visage. Tonight, she was going to allow him to have her. In every way he desires.

“I know what comes next,” Ebenezer whispers to the spirit.

“I know you do,” The Ghost of Christmas Past smirks.

Young Ebenezer and Gail kiss. They drop their shopping bags, then kiss so deeply that even Old Ebenezer can feel his blood boil. The Ghost of Christmas Past watches with a keen sense of emotional detachment. After their lips come apart, Ebenezer approaches the fireplace and lights it. Gail enters the bathroom to change.

“I’ll be right out, my love,” Gail reassures her boyfriend.

Young Ebenezer removes his boots, coat, and hat. Soon, Gail reenters the room wearing nothing but stockings and black lingerie with crotchless panties. She looks beyond comparison. Both Young and Old Ebenezer’s jaws drop. She’s flawless. Gail’s muscles are accentuated by the fire’s orange glow. She poses for him, showcasing her 18-inch biceps and broad shoulders. Not a single inch of her body is weak or soft. She’s 195 pounds of pure female muscle. Standing at a modest 5’ 6”, she packs a punch – both literally and figuratively.

Gail jumps on Young Ebenezer and tackles him to the bed. They laugh, kiss, and touch each other. Young Ebenezer strips naked and takes his turn showing off his well sculpted body. Back then, Ebenezer also was an amateur bodybuilder, though he never had any dreams of competing. He was more interested in the business side of the industry. But that didn’t stop him from lifting and eating like an elite competitor.

Old Ebenezer takes a step toward the bed. He remembers every moment of this encounter as if it had happened last week. He’s been with many women in his life, but none of them quite like Gail. None of them had her strength, fortitude, confidence, intelligence, drive, and sweet personality. He’s yet to meet a woman who can match her. He’ll probably be searching for the rest of his life.

With the romantic glow of the fire filling the room, Gail mounts Young Ebenezer and allows his erect manhood to enter her inch by inch. He’s hard as steel, pulsating with desire, and ready to give her what she desires. She rides him like a cowgirl riding a prized stallion. Young Ebenezer reaches toward her engorged clitoris, which is bouncing up and down with rhythmic delight. It’s the biggest he’s ever seen by far. With his moist fingers he strokes her clit until she starts to moan so loudly he was afraid the guests in the next room could hear them. But at this point, he doesn’t give a fuck if they can.

In fact, he wants the entire world to know that he’s making love to The Most Beautiful Woman on Planet Earth.

Gail knows her orgasm is reaching its apex. Young Ebenezer senses he’s about to come too. She lowers her face toward his and playfully bites his lower lip. It begins to bleed. Mere seconds later both of them come together. He empties himself inside her. Gail revels in the naughty feeling of his warm seed entering her fertile womb. It feels both wrong and right at the same time. Just for good measure, Gail reaches down and masturbates her clit just as Young Ebenezer’s last final spurts subside. She gives herself a second orgasm and collapses on top of her lover.

They remain still for several moments, out of breath and dripping with sweat. Old Ebenezer feels his erection straining against his underwear. Does The Ghost of Christmas Past know this? He’s too embarrassed to ask.

“This is the first time you made love to her, isn’t it? On Christmas night?” The Ghost of Christmas Past asks rhetorically. She already knows the answer to her question, so why ask it?

“Yes, spirit.” Old Ebenezer’s gaze is still fixated on the two naked lovers lying in bed together. “This was also the night that I fell in love with her. Before, I had only lusted after her. For good reason, I might add! But it was this evening, this Christmas evening, when I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“But…” the Ghost of Christmas Past wisely points out. “you didn’t end up being with her for all eternity?”

Old Ebenezer finally turns toward the spirit, looking directly at her. “You’re right. We got married, enjoyed a blissful life together for five years, then divorced. I was heartbroken. But she felt…liberated by it. I could never understand why.”

“Hm. That does seem odd.” The orange glow of the fireplace suddenly dies out. The room becomes dark, then disappears altogether. Ebenezer and the spirit are standing next to each other in a black vortex. “Let’s skip ahead to the moment when your relationship started to fall apart. This may enlighten you or frighten you. Only you will know.”

“Okay,” he responds meekly.

The blackness dissipates. Ebenezer now finds himself standing in a movie studio. It’s Christmas Eve, 1993. Scrooge recalls this evening just as perfectly as the night he and Gail first made love. They’re in Los Angeles at a cheap b-level film studio. The type of studio where low-budget campy horror movies and artless pornos are shot. At this moment it’s being used for a porno.

“No! I’m not going to do this! Absolutely not, Ebenezer!” Gail screams at the top of her lungs.

It’s four years later. Young Ebenezer is pleading his case, but to no avail. Earlier that day he impulsively decided to rent out the studio space for a few hours. The studio is always busy with various projects going on, but not tonight. It is Christmas Eve, after all. No filmmaker or crew would want to work tonight. So, here he and Gail are, alongside Monique, a Nigerian-born former marathon runner turned pro bodybuilder. Monique and Gail have become great friends. So great that Ebenezer suggested they do some “girl-on-girl” scenes together. Gail thought her husband was joking, she so went along with it. Little did she know that he was being dead serious.

“Why not? Come on, do it for me,” Young Ebenezer begs. “It’ll make us tons of money. You know the direction the industry is going, Gail. If a woman bodybuilder wants to be financially successful, she can’t just be a competitor. There’s no money in that. At least, not consistently. You have to earn an income doing other things.”

“Other things?” Gail shouts back. “You mean porn? Smut? What the fuck are you thinking! I don’t do shit like that. You know that! This is dirty and gross.”

Monique is standing by awkwardly. As a bi-sexual immigrant black woman who speaks broken English, she’s accustomed to doing “whatever is necessary” to earn enough money to eat and pay the bills. She’s done lots of porn throughout the years. She’s done scenes with men, women, bodybuilders, non-bodybuilders, and everything else in between. She doesn’t do animals, though. Monique has a little bit of self-respect!

Young Ebenezer switches off the camera. It’s sitting on a rusty old tripod that’s so decrepit Ed Wood probably once used it. Monique is completely nude, her hypermuscular body greased up with baby oil in order to make it shine. Gail is still fully clothed, but her emotions are as raw as can be. She has her enormous arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Come on, baby. I know you don’t usually do this,” Ebenezer implores. “But listen to me. This is the way things are now. Remember that VHS thing Dawn Longfellow did a few years back? God damn, it practically resurrected her fucking career! And that was the very definition of smut…”

“For the love of God, Ebenezer!” Gail smacks a nearby light stand, making it wobble around but not fall down. “Dawn is a slut. I’m not like her. I don’t want my family to see me do stuff like this!” Monique sits down on a chair and mutters something unintelligible to herself. Gail storms off to the dressing room.

“Gail! God damn it, Gail! Get back here. This isn’t my choice. This is what we have to do if you want female bodybuilding to survive.” Old Scrooge cringes at the sight of his younger self screaming so relentlessly at his current wife. The Ghost of Christmas Past glances at Monique and sees she wants to be anywhere but here. Old Scrooge notices how offended his younger self looks at his wife’s insistence that she not do anything against her wishes. How could his younger self be so heartless?

“Stop it, Ebenezer,” Monique chimes in. “If she doesn’t want to do this, then she shouldn’t.”

“Shut up!” Young Ebenezer snaps. He chases after his wife down the hallway. Deep down inside he knows she won’t do this “girl-on-girl” scene. But how can she be so blind? Does she actually think she can earn a steady living just being a competitor? No. You have to make money any which way you can. And the WCBF cannot stay afloat unless they get “creative” in earning more revenue. That’s what Ebenezer and his new business partner, Jacob Marley, discussed with shareholders at last month’s meeting.

Old Ebenezer puts his head down in shame. “My God. How foolish was I? I alienated my own wife. Over what? A fucking low-budget porno? Why was I so stupid?”

“Stupidity isn’t the only reason.” The Ghost of Christmas Past lays her muscular forearm against Scrooge’s shoulder. “You were also prideful. You and Jacob were so sure you knew how to revive the female bodybuilding industry from its inevitable demise. You two wanted to return it back to its former glory of the ‘70s and ‘80s. And you thought blue movies were the answer.”

“I thought they were!” Scrooge defends himself helplessly.

“For some, yes. But not for all. Not everyone wants to do that. And they shouldn’t be forced to, either.”

Monique and the film set fade off into the black nothingness from whence it came from. Scrooge and The Ghost of Christmas Past are alone in the void.

“Is that the lesson I must learn? That I took the WCFB in the wrong direction? That me and Jacob were wrong?” Scrooge fights off a sneeze that is about to explode at the wrong time.

“No, not exactly. That’s one lesson, sure. But not the only one. The other spirit shall show you more, Ebenezer.” The Ghost of Christmas Past also begins to fade away, slowly but surely. Soon, she is just a voice speaking without a body.

“Good luck!”

And with that, Ebenezer is transported back to his bedroom in the blink of an eye. He glances up at the clock. It is 2:00 a.m. on the dot. The grandfather clock chimes two times, as if on cue. Then, music starts to play downstairs. In the same living room Jacob Marley’s ghost made his glorious entrance. This time, without fear, Ebenezer Scrooge trots downstairs to see what all the commotion is about. The music is Dean Martin’s rendition of “Let it Snow! Let is Snow! Let it Snow!”

As much of a grumpy miser as he is, Scrooge admits that he secretly loves this song!

For some unexplainable reason, the home gym has returned. Except Jacob Marley isn’t here deadlifting. Instead, someone is squatting. 405 pounds! Holy shit…

“Are you the second spirit whose coming was foretold?” The ghostly figure continues to squat, as if it hadn’t heard Scrooge’s question.

“Give me a moment!” a female voice with an Eastern European accent demands. The voice is exotic but not angelic. Finally, she finishes her final repetition and reracks the bar. It makes a loud clanking sound. Scrooge’s heart skips a beat. It skips even more beats after he sees what this second spirit looks like.

Dripping sweat and breathing loudly, a bulky woman with thick muscles, long brown hair, and hazel eyes wearing nothing but a red and green sports bra and skin-tight shorts walks toward Scrooge. She is a dead ringer for Elena Bourean, a world-class female bodybuilder from Romania. Miss Bourean has won the WCBF Heavyweight Women’s Bodybuilding Title eight years in a row. Unless Scrooge decides to change his mind about eliminating the FBB Division, she won’t be able to win a ninth.

“Good evening. I had to get a quick workout in before we go on our little adventure,” she begins, extending her hand toward Scrooge. He shakes it. Her strong grip almost causes every bone in his hand to shatter. “I am The Ghost of Christmas Present. How are you doing, Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge?”

Ghost of Christmas Present = Alina Popa. Duh!

Scrooge tries to not show that he is in pain from the handshake. He doubts he’s a good enough actor to hide it. “To be honest, spirit, my mind is spinning. I’ve experienced a lot so far. It’s not every day that spirits from the Other World come to Earth and interact with me. So you’ll excuse me if I seem out of sorts.”

“Out of sorts? That’s an understatement! Want a cup of hot cider? I get tired of Gatorade day in and day out,” The Ghost of Christmas Present says. She goes over to a stove top (because apparently there’s a stove in the living room, along with a squat rack!) and pours a glass of cider for her guest. “Come in and know me better, man!”

The Elena Bourean lookalike hands Scrooge the glass of cider. He sips it.

“Holy shit, that’s good. That sure hits the spot, especially on a cold winter night like this,” Scrooge proclaims. He chugs the rest. The Ghost of Christmas Present smiles. “Where did you learn to make cider this delicious?”

“Oh, when you’re a ghost you have lots of spare time on your hands.” The Ghost of Christmas Present pours herself a glass of cider too. “Speaking of which, why didn’t you attend your nephew’s Christmas party? Fred knows how to throw a party, if you know what I mean!”

Scrooge sits down on the sofa and sighs. “I don’t know, spirit. I’m not a very sociable person. I prefer to be alone, crunching numbers and doing bookkeeping tasks. I’m afraid I don’t know what to do at parties. I’d be at a loss.” The Ghost of Christmas Present finishes her cider. Scrooge marvels at her flawless physique. He cannot stop staring at her chiseled abdomen. She indeed looks just like Elena Bourean, just as The Ghost of Christmas Past was a doppelganger of Tanya Morganthall. Whoever is in control of the Other World sure knows the right people to replicate when sending ghosts down to the Real World!

“At a loss? Golly, that sounds stressful,” the spirit replies with genuine compassion.

“It can be. Which is why I avoid parties and any other kind of social gathering. Does that make me a horrible person, spirit?”

“Not at all,” she begins. “However, that does mean you do miss out on seeing the other side of your company’s business.” The Ghost of Christmas Present wipes off her gorgeous face with a towel that manifests out of nowhere.

“What other side?” Scrooge is truly perplexed.

“Oh, the side of the WCBF you don’t always see,” she says. “The social side of it. The human side. Not the side that’s only concerned with money, sustainability, and the bottom line.”

“I assume you’re going to show me this?”

The Ghost of Christmas Present winks. It sends shivers down Scrooge’s old spine. “Of course! What were you expecting?” And with that, the spirit extends her hand. Tentatively, Scrooge takes it. But this time, her grip isn’t oppressively strong. It’s more nurturing. A tornado-like swirl of wind and light surrounds them. The music fades away, as does the images of Scrooge’s house. Ten seconds later he finds himself in a large ballroom sometime in the present day.

A larger-than-life Christmas tree adorns the whole room. There are people everywhere – drinking, eating, talking, dancing, and celebrating as if they don’t have a care in the world. It takes a brief moment, but Scrooge soon starts to recognize the people in the ballroom. It’s bodybuilders! And their wives and husbands. Male and female competitors, retired athletes, photographers, personal trainers, sponsors, magazine writers and editors, and significant others are enjoying the evening’s frivolities. Scrooge knows many of them, if not all of them. Once again, he can see them but they cannot see him. Nor can he touch them or interact with anyone. Just like before.

“What is this? Who’s party is this?” Scrooge asks. But before his tour guide can answer, a familiar man walks onto a dais near the DJ and approaches the microphone.

“Welcome, everybody! Thank you for being here! I love each and every one of you,” Mr. Fezziwig announces to the crowd. The room erupts in applause. Daniel Fezziwig is the CEO of WBBA, the World Bodybuilding Association. It’s the parent company that owns the West Coast Bodybuilding Federation. Ebenezer once worked for the WBBA after he left the WCBF. He learned so much about business administration from Fezziwig. After six years working with him, Scrooge returned to the WCBF once the executive job became vacant. While he and Fezziwig didn’t always see eye-to-eye, he always respected him as a man and as a…

…friend?

“Welcome to the annual Fezziwig Christmas Gala! It’s so great to see many world-class athletes in one room. Thankfully no urine test will be required before you leave!” Everyone in the room laughs heartily. Even Scrooge cracks a smile. “All kidding aside, I’m grateful that we’re able to host this party here in the Emerald City. It’s too bad my old friend Ebenezer Scrooge wasn’t able to come this evening. Then again, he probably wouldn’t want to come even if he could!”

The crowd boos at the sound of Ebenezer Scrooge’s name. Looking around at his colleagues expressing their displeasure toward him, Scrooge is deeply hurt. The Ghost of Christmas Present takes notice of this emotional reaction.

As Fezziwig continues to give his spiel, out of the corner of his eye Scrooge sees a familiar face. It’s Bobbi Cratchit! And she’s with her son, Tim. Tim looks to be about five years old. He’s quite tiny but carries around a lot of confidence. Just like his mother. Bobbi and her son are alone in the corner, drinking punch and eating cookies. Bobbi is dressed in a classy black cocktail dress. Her muscles are visible for all to see. Tim looks adorable wearing a small faux tuxedo.

Suddenly, the room grows quiet. Fezziwig is about to reveal who the guest performer will be! Apparently, the guest performer is supposed to showcase some sort of routine that’s a combination of dance, stylized movement, and traditional bodybuilding poses. Everyone waits with bated breath. Even Scrooge. Especially Bobbi, since she heard a rumor that this year it’s going to be a woman whom Fezziwig selects.

“Without further ado, this year’s guest performer will be…” he teases, enjoying the intoxicating power he has over his esteemed guests. “Gail Moore!!!”

The whole room erupts in a bedlam of cheering and applause.

Gail Moore? Scrooge knows exactly who that is.

It’s his first wife. The love of his life. With a new married name.

Continued in part three

What is Your Female Muscle Holy Grail?

Gold Chalice In Altar With A Ray Of Divine Light — The Holy Grail: You have chosen wisely!

From King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table to Indiana Jones, everyone seems to want to get their hands on the Holy Grail. The journey to acquire such a coveted treasure is full of peril, challenging our heroes to face such dangers like bloodthirsty armies, treacherous terrain, nefarious double-crossers, and the dreaded Knights Who Say Ni.

The Holy Grail is famous for allegedly being the cup that Jesus drank from at the Last Supper. Joseph of Arimathea then used it to collect Christ’s blood at the Crucifixion. You don’t need to be very religious to know that this object – whether it actually existed or not – is an immeasurably valuable treasure. There’s no need to get into the etymological history of the term “Holy Grail” because it’s complicated, hotly debated, and ultimately boring.

In today’s parlance, we use the expression “Holy Grail” to describe any object or achievement that we consider to be most important to us. Examples include winning the Super Bowl, getting accepted into an Ivy League university, scoring a date with the hottest cheerleader in school, climbing to the top of Mount Everest, or meeting your favorite celebrity. Sometimes we achieve these goals. Most of the time we never even sniff the possibility of accidentally achieving these goals. Life goes on.

For female muscle fans, we have our own version of the Holy Grail. Hidden deep within our imaginations, we fantasize about certain things that we can only picture in our minds. Occasionally, we are fortunate enough to actually be able to live out these fantasies. But more often than not, they remain just that: fantasies. Situations we conjure up inside our brains that never come to pass.

But let’s not go down this dour path. Instead, let’s celebrate our female muscle fandom by sharing what our personal “Female Muscle Holy Grail” is. I shall start with a few suggestions from my own personal playbook:

Holy Grail - Denise Masino — Denise clearly isn’t shy about showing off her greatest physical asset.

Giving Denise Masino cunnilingus

My love for Denise Masino should not be a surprise to anyone. She’s currently my favorite female bodybuilder of all time, mostly for reasons that have little to do with her actual record as a competitive bodybuilder. I wrote a blog post in which I expressed my love for Ms. Masino. I recommend you check it out when you have a spare moment.

Denise is famous (or is it infamous?) not just for her beauty, strength, charm, sexiness, confidence, muscularity, femininity, compassion, and spiritedness. She’s also renowned for what exists between her legs. Between her thick tree trunk legs, Denise boasts the most beautiful genitalia in the world. Think that’s a really bizarre thing to say? It is, but if you have an appreciation for the finer things in life, you’d understand.

For the record, Denise isn’t shy about showing off her most prized asset. In fact, she proudly displays it in most of the videos she produces for her website. She isn’t reticent about the fact she has a larger-than-normal clitoris, thick meaty labia, and a bright pink vagina that seemingly glistens at all times. She understands full well that there are plenty of guys and gals out there who adore her genitalia and can’t get enough of it. We crave it like it’s an addictive drug.

So this isn’t a weird thing to fantasize about. Nor do I think she’d be embarrassed to accidentally stumble upon this post and read about some random guy’s thoughts about it. Denise has made a steady income exploiting (or treating us to) her most famous physical trait. And I don’t judge her at all for it. If you got it, flaunt it. If you have a talent or asset that makes you money, by all means ride that donkey as far as you can. Thankfully for us, she does exactly that with a bright smile on her pretty face.

Being able to perform cunnilingus on Miss Masino would be a dream come true. Her clit is heavenly, one of the best in the world. It’s certainly one of the most famous in the world. Female muscle fans can dispute who possesses the “best” meat between her legs, but Denise should be on the top of everyone’s list – if such a list were to exist. If there ever comes a time when I can attain this Holy Grail of Female Muscle Fandom, I could die right then and there a happy man. I probably speak for many of you too.

Can you imagine spending hours feasting on Denise’s beautiful bits while listening to her passionate moans of orgasm? Music to our ears!

Holy Grail - Alina Popa — Queen Alina in prime form.

Touching Alina Popa’s entire body

Queen Alina is the Undisputed Goddess of Female Bodybuilding. She may not necessarily be my personal favorite, but she doesn’t have to be. Alina is a special breed of woman. Her charm, beauty, impressive muscularity, femininity, and accomplishments (both on stage and off stage) are second to none. She’s incredible.

What makes her noteworthy, however, is her remarkable muscle control. She can bounce her pecs, biceps, quads, and glutes like no one else. Her ability to completely isolate her individual muscles and flex them for the leering camera is unprecedented. If there’s someone else who can match her in this arena, please let me know!

Therefore, I’d love to touch every single inch of Alina’s gorgeous body. I want to feel her bicep peaks. I want to cup her glutes and squeeze them. I want to rub her quads, hamstrings, and calves with baby oil and see them shine brightly. I’d love to lay down in bed with the Queen and spend all evening worshiping her muscles. I’d take my time. No need to rush things. No need to hurry. This worship session should take as long as it needs to.

Which, ideally, would be a very, very long time.

Her pretty face. Her massive chest. Her broad back. Her meaty thighs. I’d ask her to flex each individual muscle and marvel at her keen ability to make them dance. “Alina’s Dancing Glutes” may not sound like a punk band you’d like to see in concert, but they’re definitely a sacred piece of flesh that deserves to be appreciated with divine reverence.

Witnessing her muscle control in person would alone be worth the price of admission. To be able to place my fingers onto her flawless physique would make that a once-in-a-lifetime bargain deal. Oh boy.

Holy Grail - Karen Zaremba — You can wash your entire wardrobe on Karen Zaremba’s abs.

Feeling Karen Zaremba’s abs

This Holy Grail fantasy is probably 10-15 years too late, but oh well. When my female muscle awakening began in 2005 (it actually started a few years before that, but this was when my interest in female bodybuilders skyrocketed), Karen Zaremba was one of the first women I discovered. I clearly remember the countless hours I spent sitting at my computer in my dorm room watching videos of Miss Zaremba strutting around in a bikini over and over again.

I made sure my roommate didn’t see what I was watching, of course. But I still managed to ensure my Karen Zaremba fandom remained prolific.

Other than her gorgeous face and heavenly bronzed physique, Karen is best known for her abdominal muscles. Wow! She didn’t have a six-pack. She had an eight-pack. Or a ten-pack. Or something like that. Yowza!

Karen was my first favorite FBB. Was it strange that she’s more than twenty years my senior? Probably, but that didn’t matter one iota. It is unusual for a teenage boy to be enamored with a woman in her 40s, but in the privacy of my own imagination, nothing is taboo. It was perfectly normal. As it should have been!

Miss Zaremba had abs that were the dictionary definition of “washboard.” You could clearly see the grooves between each individual muscle. You could pour a glass of water onto her stomach and the deep grooves of her abs would catch every drop of it.

I fantasized about being able to put my tongue in between those grooves and lick her abs to my heart’s delight. I still think about such things today, even though Karen has retired from bodybuilding and probably isn’t nearly as muscular anymore. Like I said earlier, this fantasy is a couple of decades too late, but never mind that. Karen will always remain a sentimental favorite of mine, no matter what she chooses to do with her life moving forward. I really like her and still do.

Holy Grail - Cindy Landolt — Cindy Landolt looking divine.

Making love to Cindy Landolt all night long

Oh Cindy. Cindy, Cindy, Cindy. The Muscle Goddess of Zurich is probably the most Beautiful Female Bodybuilder of All Time. She’s the total package. She’s not as large as Alina or as outwardly erotic as Denise, but she’s impeccably sculpted and as gorgeous as a supermodel.

Cindy speaks fluent English with an accent, which is something that lots of American guys find irresistibly hot. I don’t care which corner of the world she’s from or what language she speaks. Cindy is a flawless woman who redefines beauty. She’s a perfect “gateway” FBB who combines traditional femininity with nontraditional muscle mass. She can have crossover appeal for both guys (and gals) who love female bodybuilders and those who are still “FBB-skeptics.”

She doesn’t “look like a man” or a “manly woman.” She looks as feminine as that cute cheerleader you had a crush on in high school. She could be on the cover of fashion magazines and you wouldn’t blink – if not for her large muscles, that is. I think she has universal appeal. I’m guessing there are plenty of folks out there who would agree with me on that.

I fantasize about spending an entire evening with Miss Landolt in a secluded cabin somewhere deep in the mountains. After a tasty meal and drinking an entire bottle of champagne, we light up the fireplace and watch the amber glow fill the room. We kiss. We whisper. We eventually undress. We walk to the bedroom hand-in-hand. We turn off all the lights, silence our phones, and ignore the outside world for the next twelve hours. Nothing matters except for the two of us.

Moonlight romantically streams through the window. Perhaps it’s snowing lightly. The sky is peaceful. It is quiet everywhere. We crack open the window and let the dual sensations of cold air and heat from the fireplace greet out naked bodies. We then make love all night long. We consummate our love in every way imaginable. Maybe we make love for an hour, maybe three hours, maybe literally all night long.

We make love in bed, in the shower, downstairs next to the fireplace, on the staircase, perhaps even outside. It may be chilly, but the heat from our joining bodies cancels out any discomfort that would cause. She showcases for me her stamina, sexual appetite, and sensual imagination. I indulge in everything she desires to do together. It’s a night to remember, one neither of us will ever forget.

It’s pure bliss.

Holy Grail - Deidre Pagnanelli — Deidre slaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaying!

Stroking Deidre Pagnanelli’s gorgeous face

This is a fantasy that might also be a few years too late, but that’s totally irrelevant. What is relevant is the fact that Deidre is still one of the most beautiful women on the planet. I’ve probably said that about at least a half dozen other women, but this time I mean it.

Maybe.

Deidre is a 40-something mother of four children – yes, you read that right – who was one of the hottest fitness models of the 90s. Oh wait, she’s still one of the hottest fitness models out there. My mistake. Deidre looks like a supermodel and carries herself like one too. Even if she weren’t muscular, she’d still be world famous. And deservedly so.

She possesses an absolutely gorgeous face. Stunning. Jaw-dropping. Mesmerizing. Captivating. Enthralling. Intoxicating. Her natural beauty is incomprehensible. It’s difficult to imagine how someone could actually be that beautiful. But she is. She’s so beautiful you cannot help but stop dead in your tracks when you see her. To see her is to reject everything you previously thought about female beauty. It’s not too often that you observe a woman who is so gorgeous your brain struggles to process it.

“Did I just see that? Is Deidre Pagnanelli a real person? Or is she an animated avatar that existed in some guy’s imagination?”

Nope. She’s real. She’s damn real. And we’re all better off for it.

If I were to be blessed with having an intimate moment with Deidre, I would definitely want to do all the activities that have been described previously. That goes without saying. But if I had to choose a unique “holy grail” activity to do with her, it would be to stroke her face.

Her cheek. Her jawline. Her mouth. Her lips. Her nose. Her eyelashes. Her forehead. I’d touch it all, in an effort to appreciate her aesthetic beauty in the most tactile way possible. It’s one thing to see it, it’s quite another thing to experience it.

Her divine beauty deserves to be tangibly acknowledged. To feel her flawless face is to be one step closer to Heaven. I’m still on earth (technically), but I might as well be in the Afterlife. Even in her 40s (she may be approaching her 50s!), Deidre has not lost any of her beauty. She isn’t “fading.” In fact, she’s getting more beautiful as time goes on. She’s aging better than most people – male and female alike – are realistically able to. Even if her face contains a few wrinkles and crow’s feet, they just add depth to her beauty. They tell us that no matter how old she gets, Deidre deserves a special place in our hearts.

To see her is to stare into the face of God. At this point, I don’t know if there’s much of a difference.

***

Alright, what’s your Female Muscle Holy Grail? Let me know in the comments below or send me an email at ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com. I’d love to hear from you and get this conversation going!

In Bed with a Female Bodybuilder

I’d love to share a bed with Alina Popa.

When I think about what I would love to do with a female bodybuilder in an intimate setting, there wouldn’t be any whips, handcuffs, gags, rope, hot candle wax, wrestling mats, or blindfolds.

Instead, there’s a large bed with white linen cloth. A bottle of chilled champagne. A bright warm fireplace with plenty of spare logs. Clothing carelessly littered across the room. And of course, her. Naked. Smiling. Confident. Caring. Loving.

There isn’t a hint of animosity in the air. The mood is playful, tender, genuine. We lock eyes. We kiss. We stroke each other’s bodies. I feel her muscle-bound figure not in awe, but with a gentle sense of familiarity. I know her body well. Yet, I am still amazed by it. I’ve felt her enormous biceps thousands of times, but they are still able to send shivers down my spine. I’ve stared into her gorgeous eyes a million times before, yet they still have the uncanny ability to captivate me.

I am under her spell, yet I do not complain. I do not fight back. There is no fight to be had. She is stronger and more powerful than me. Yet I do not feel emasculated. Rather, I feel like I’m more of a man when I am with her. Her feminine strength does not invalidate my masculinity. It enhances it. I am a man and she is a woman. Her impressive muscular built does not change or disrupt that equation.

We are at peace. We are quiet, but not silent. She has no makeup on, but she is still more naturally beautiful than any supermodel who has ever lived. We love each other. There is no superficiality going on between us. As I caress her body, I am constantly reminded of the countless hours she spends at the gym and the enormous sacrifices she makes every single day to achieve her remarkable physique. She does not have to tell me how difficult it is to look the way she looks. I know everything I need to know just from the touch of my fingers on her flawlessly picturesque body.

Whew.

I can go on and on describing my hypothetical experience of being in bed with a female bodybuilder. But this will do for now.

Guys and gals who love female bodybuilders have a wide array of FBB-centered fantasies. This ranges from desiring to have a female bodybuilder wrap her strong thick legs around your neck and squeeze to feeling up her broad back while she flexes her arms right in front of you. Some fantasies are violent in nature, others are peaceful. Some of the more violence-oriented fantasies hug that fine line between “normal” and “criminal” – although who are we to judge?

FBB fandom can take many forms, yet there is one common element that cannot be ignored: the indescribable feeling that female bodybuilders conjure up inside of us. They make our entire body shake. They capture our attention like nothing else can. They make us do irrational things. We are attracted to them in ways that we are not attracted to in more “conventional” people. While seeing a pretty girl wearing a skimpy bikini at the beach can make our heart skip a beat, watching a video of a beautiful female bodybuilder flex her huge muscles wearing sexy lingerie can make our heart stop beating entirely.

See the difference?

How we prefer to experience this “indescribable feeling” differs from person to person. Some of us fantasize about – or actually get to experience if you have the resources and good fortune of a real-life FBB travelling to your area – being pinned to the ground by a powerful woman. Others of us are rougher around the edges and prefer her to pour hot candle wax on our chests, spit in our faces, and call us demeaning names as we demand further insults to be hurled our way. But there exists another cohort of female muscle lovers who prefer an experience that’s more quiet, tranquil, peaceful, low-key, measured, and intimate.

You can probably guess which group yours truly belongs in.

This is not to say that people who prefer to experience the, uh, “bumpier” side of female bodybuilding fandom are wrong. Far from it. It’s just that some of us aren’t as enamored with power dynamics, sexual politics, and muscle fetishization as others are. That’s it. Nobody is “right” or “wrong” when it comes to fantasizing or actually playing out their FBB-related desires. Unless someone gets hurt unintentionally, of course.

Personally, the few times per year that I get to meet a real-life female bodybuilder for a muscle worship session tend to be as low-key as you might imagine. No wrestling, no submission, no hint of competition. Just her and me. In bed. We talk. We share stories. I compliment her. She grins and giggles. I touch her magnificent body. Goosebumps flare up across my arm. My fingers feel like they could melt after caressing her warm, coarse skin. It’s quiet. The room is dimly lit. There’s music playing softly in the background. The window is open, allowing the bright moonlight to freely fill the room. Whatever happens stays between us. She’s as beautiful as you can possibly imagine, except more so. My heart can burst out of my chest at any moment. Luckily, it does not.

I enjoy everything about a female bodybuilder, not just her muscles. I enjoy her personal journey. Learning about her hopes, dreams, aspirations, fears, annoyances, and joys. I marvel at her self-confidence and unwavering belief in her ability to achieve anything she wants. I enjoy her femininity. I enjoy her power. I enjoy her calmness. I enjoy giving her pleasure (if she lets me). I enjoy receiving pleasure from her (once again, if she feels like doing so). In short, I enjoy everything about the experience of meeting her. Everything.

As gorgeous as can be, the lovely Sheronica Sade Henton.

It’s difficult, though not impossible, to experience those same things when you’re pinned to the ground, gasping for air. I know she’s strong. I don’t need her to demonstrate it for me. But that’s just how I prefer to experience her full power. I certainly don’t speak for everyone. Nor would I want to.

To me, female muscle is highly erotic. Erotic in a way that almost transcends the meaning of the word. It’s not just sexually arousing or exciting. It’s emotionally moving, almost in a quasi-spiritual way. I feel like I’m in the presence of Greatness. Not exactly a goddess, but something very close to that. It’s difficult to describe, but those who do understand what I’m talking about are no doubt nodding their heads in agreement right now.

There is no right or wrong way to pass your time with an FBB, considering everything is consensual and what is previously agreed upon to happen actually happens. For me personally, I love experiences where I can show my appreciation for an FBB’s hard work in the most respectful yet erotic way possible. The feeling of her rock hard muscles against my fingers is indescribably sexy. I’ve tried to explain it, but have failed over and over again. It’s truly something that the English language – or any language, for that matter – cannot justifiably articulate.

In a way, what I enjoy doing (and fantasizing about) is no different than what a “normal” couple would do when they’re getting intimate with each other. They lie in bed together. They flirt. They exchange needful glances. They chat. They touch each other. They disrobe. They engage in foreplay. They…make love.

I’ve never made love to a female bodybuilder, but that isn’t a precondition to talking about what I’m talking about. What I’m talking about is the beautiful feeling of sharing time and space with a female bodybuilder in the privacy of a hotel room away from the eyes of anyone else but ourselves. No one has to witness what we do together. It’s just her and me. That’s it. That’s all there needs to be.

Privacy is a wonderful thing. Even more so when you’re willing and eager to become vulnerable with the other person.

Muscle worship is very personal. Extremely personal. It’s fun, of course, but fun in an intimate kind of way. You don’t become “friends” with her, but you certainly share a special connection that will never leave that rented room. There’s something poetically beautiful about that: a private period of time between two people where one party expresses appreciation for the physical beauty of the other party – in which cell phones, modern technology, and eyewitnesses are nowhere to be seen. That’s the way it should be.

Being in bed with a female bodybuilder is like kneeling before the altar and praying before whatever god you worship. It’s deeply personal, yet surreal in its mundanity. The anticipation of being able to meet her is palpable. Your palms are sweaty. Your heart rate is through the roof. You count down the hours till you get to meet her with the same anticipation of a small child waiting for Santa to deliver your presents. When you do get to knock on her door and walk into her room, you need to pinch yourself in order to discover whether or not you’re actually living in a realistic dream. Thankfully, you are not.

And when you do eventually get into bed with her, you feel like pausing and saying a brief prayer to the Heavens. You want to thank the stars for granting you this privileged moment. This moment may happen to you again, or it may not. Regardless, you want to make the most of it. And you do. You do in fact make the most of it by staring intently into her eyes, whispering melodic compliments into her ear, and caressing her muscular body with the careful prudence of an artist painting a canvas.

What you do is simple. You lie next to her and enjoy each other’s company in complete silence. Not a care in the world. The outside world means nothing right now. You’re like two old lovers rediscovering your shared passion. Nothing about this picture would seem out of the ordinary in any bedroom in the world.

Except for the romantically whimsical image of a man sharing an intimate moment with a woman. A woman who happens to have enormous biceps.

Untouched and Unattached: The Virginal Female Bodybuilder Fantasy

There’s one remarkable similarity between some of our most favorite female bodybuilders that might explain (slightly) why we universally love them.

What do Denise Masino, Alina Popa, Cindy Landolt, Aspen Rae, Theresa Ivancik, and Minna Pajulahti all have in common?

Besides being Divine All-Powerful Muscle Goddesses, you rarely see them participate in videos with other guys.

Sure, that’s not totally true. All these ladies have shot a few videos of them either allowing a guy to worship their muscles or wrestle them until they helplessly surrender. But for the most part, these ladies – and plenty of others as well – tend to make videos where either they’re solo or they’re with other women (usually fellow female bodybuilders). Have you also noticed this trend?

I cannot recall watching a video where Denise Masino – who is my favorite FBB – has sex with a man, wrestles a man, or is worshipped by a man. Maybe a few are out there, but I haven’t personally come across anything of the sort. That doesn’t mean they doesn’t exist, of course. 99% of the time, Denise is masturbating by herself with the camera pointed up close to her enormous genitalia, allowing a fellow FBB to suck on her huge clitoris, or participating in an all-female muscle orgy. Naturally, I am not complaining about any of this.

Yet, this observation is jarring. For whatever reason, a significant number of female bodybuilders who participate in porn (the vast majority of actual FBBs do not, for the record) do so either without men in it or only with other women. These women might be fellow bodybuilders or they might be “normal” looking women. But the absence of other guys cannot be overlooked.

Why is that? Why does Aspen Rae choose to make lesbian-themed videos but not a whole lot where she has sex with a man? Why do our favorite FBBs either “go solo” or only allow themselves to be filmed being intimate with other women? It could be that these ladies are genuine lesbians who aren’t interested in having sex with men…or it could be an intentional choice. What would motivate this choice in the first place?

The answer is simple: They want guys like us to fantasize about being with them, knowing we’re not interested in watching guys like us be with them.

In other words, we embrace the “virginal female bodybuilder” motif wholeheartedly. Of course, we know that these women are not actual virgins (far from it, most likely). This isn’t about reality. It’s about fantasy. And fantasy can be broken the moment reality starts to creep in. Any business-savvy FBB understands this.

We want to imagine that we can be that guy who can suck on an FBB’s clit or make love to her all night long. If we see an actual guy – even if this guy is a nameless and faceless porn actor – do this, it ruins the experience for us. We start to get jealous. We become envious. We get angry. We get frustrated. The “fun” is drained from the experience. We are reminded that never in a million years will we be able to have sex with her. And the moment reality crashes the party, you might as well pack your bags, hail an Uber, and leave. What’s the point?

I keep referencing Denise Masino because she is, in my opinion, one of the greatest businesswomen in the female bodybuilding industry. She understands better than anyone else why guys love FBBs and what it is that they look for when they need their “FBB fix.” She knows her enormous clitoris is her selling point. It’s her moneymaker. She isn’t ashamed of it. She doesn’t try to hide it. Nor does she tease us with it. Instead, she puts it out there front and center, as if daring you to look away. She’s comfortable being who she is and she refuses to apologize for it. That’s hot. That’s sexy. That’s…lucrative.

This is why Denise has embraced the “virginal female bodybuilder” character, whether she admits it or not. Unlike Yvette Bova or Kathy Connors, you won’t see Denise participate in a gangbang where a dozen guys ejaculate all over her at once. You won’t see her give blow jobs to random men one after another. You won’t even see her have penetrative sex with a single guy, let alone two or three or four. She remains virginal. She remains pure, untouched, unattached, and completely attainable.

Is Denise an actual virgin? Hell no! We all know that. She probably has a highly active sex life. She’s a veteran at doing the deed. But we’re not talking about reality here. We’re talking about the artificial image of Denise that exists solely in our minds. Or Aspen. Or Angela. Or Alina. Or Theresa. Or Cindy. Or Minna. Or anybody else that comes to mind. The fantasy works only when the groundwork has been properly laid (no pun intended). Starting from the vantage point of being a “virginal” muscular woman are the building blocks.

Brandi Mae Akers is an interesting case study. Most of her videos are of her being either solo or with other women. But there is a small handful in which she appears with another guy. That guy is probably her boyfriend/husband, but I don’t know for sure. I’m not too well versed in her personal life.

Yet, Brandi still gives off the “Muscle Girl Next-Door” vibes. We still are able to imagine ourselves with her without the memories of another man soiling the mood. Perhaps it’s because the videos in which she’s with a guy are few and far between. That must be it.

The FBB who is untouched and unattached is more desirable because we can more easily place ourselves in the position of touching them like they’ve never been touched before. We may not fantasize about being able to date or marry them quite as often, but that’s just an added bonus. This fantasy loses a lot of its luster if we’re constantly reminded that they enjoy a happy, stable marriage with the luckiest guy in the world.

What explains all this? Well, we can probably start with the whole idea of “purity” being cherished because our society has roots in the Puritan sect of Christianity. The taboo against sex before marriage has developed a culture in which women are seen as whores the moment they “stain” their purity. The “virgin/whore” dichotomy (or “Madonna-whore complex,” which is probably the more official term) is the basic observation that society at large – however you define that – needs to put women into one of two camps: Virgins or whores. One cannot be both. And the moment one crosses over into “whore” territory, they’re branded that label for life – perhaps with a certain scarlet letter even.

Unless they join a convent. Or settle down, get married, and have children who also grow up to settle down, get married, and have children. One or the other. Yikes. That doesn’t leave a whole lot of options, does it?

So, men tend to fetishize female virginity because they’re socially conditioned to value a woman who will become a suitable wife and mother. Whores who sleep around aren’t exactly fit for such a lifestyle. Even though sexual politics have evolved throughout the years, remnants of these attitudes still persist – even supposedly amongst the most “liberated” of us.

Women are shamed for having sex, enjoying sex, or seeking out sex. Men tend to not face such stigmas. Although, the opposite is sort of true. Men who are virgins themselves are viewed as losers who haven’t yet fulfilled their basic masculine duties. This gets more pronounced the older he gets. So this pendulum swings both ways.

All of that being said, it doesn’t appear as though the “virginal FBB” is an archetype that fits into this neat category. The virgin-whore complex may be part of it, but it’s not all of it. Rather, this boils down to the ability to fantasize about what you know you will never be able to obtain.

For example, think back to your high school days. There was this girl you really liked. She was cute, funny, smart, and had a rocking great body. She flirted with you a little bit and you gladly flirted back. You consider asking her out on a date, until you discover that she flirts with everyone. And that is no exaggeration. Every boy at school – including yourself – believes he has a chance with her. But most of them do not. Then, you discover that she sleeps around. She freely gives blow jobs and hand jobs to boys on the football team. Maybe she has a boyfriend (or two, or three, or four), maybe she doesn’t. But regardless, your crush on her dissipates. The illusion has been shattered. You know who she really is and how she acts. It ain’t pretty. So you move on to a different girl. One who is more, how shall we put it, “virginal” – even if only in appearance.

Hm. Does that accurately describe your experience? If so, great. If not, at the very least you can try to imagine what it would be like to put yourself in this hypothetical boy’s shoes. You desired something that is in fact obtainable, but you back out the moment you really discover what kind of a person she truly is. Of course, her questionable behavior might not be true. It could be rumors. Or flat-out lies meant to slander her reputation. But none of that matters. You don’t want to waste your time on someone who won’t value you back.

Now, contrast this situation with your adult crush on a female bodybuilder. You’re older and wiser, but you’re still a man with normal sexual desires. You follow several fitness models and bodybuilders on Instagram. You spend a lot of time watching videos of FBBs working out, masturbating, posing for the camera, or stroking their huge clits. Unlike the girl you liked in high school, you know with 100% certainty that these FBBs aren’t obtainable. They live hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away from you. They’re already married. They wouldn’t be interested in an anonymous shlubby guy like you. So you know there is no realistic path for you to hook up with these women. It’s not going to happen. You’re not naïve or hopelessly delusional about this.

Who wouldn’t want to wake up every morning next to Aspen Rae?

Yet, you still are endlessly attracted to them. You cannot stop thinking about them. They are your personal definition of a perfect woman. A flawless 10/10. But you have no illusions that you’ll ever be with her. I would love to make love to Denise Masino, but I know such a thing will never happen to me. I’m not bitter over this, because why should I? I’m not stupid enough to think that could ever occur. However, in my mind, anything is possible. Why limit your imagination?

Thus, for fans of female bodybuilders, FBBs really only exist on a theoretical level. You might get to meet a few for muscle worship/wrestling sessions, but not everyone can do that. Even if you do get to participate in such sessions, the experience lasts for a finite amount of time and eventually reality will settle back in. Like the cute flirty girl who makes your overpriced latte at Starbucks, she’s only nice to you because you paid her to be nice to you. Truth is a cold reality.

But fantasy can be as hot as you want it to be. In the private recesses of your mind, Angela Salvagno is your naughty Alpha Female wife who tells you what to do, makes all the important financial decisions, wears the pants in the house (figuratively speaking), and decides what goes on in the bedroom. She controls your life. And you let her. But in reality, Angela doesn’t know who you are and doesn’t care to know who you are. Yet, your imagination can run wild because nobody can tell you it can’t.

When you watch a movie, you constantly have to “suspend your disbelief.” You have to accept unrealistic circumstances if you want to enjoy it. If you refuse to believe the unbelievable, you’re going to have a miserable time.

We all know Mark Hamill and Daisy Ridley aren’t actually wielding laser swords and using “The Force” in the most recent Star Wars adventure. We know it’s all animated. Jedis aren’t real. Spaceships like that aren’t real. The Force isn’t real. It’s all an illusion. But, we accept the premise because the filmmakers do their best job to make it seem as plausible as possible.

Modern visual effects and CGI enable us to better suspend our disbelief. If we can see the wires holding up a “flying” saucer, it ruins the experience for us. But if you digitally erase the wires and add cool music and special FX into the mix, we cheer it on. We are more likely to accept the unacceptable.

On that same note, we are more likely to enjoy fantasizing about our favorite female bodybuilders if we are better able to distance ourselves from actual reality. In my mind, Sherry Mayumi and I are a happily married couple enjoying a blissful life together. The fact that her Instagram is devoid of anyone but herself (I believe she’s single at the moment!) allows me to indulge in this fantasy. I am empowered to suspend my disbelief. Her “virginal” façade has created a void. A void that I can fill.

At the end of the day, that’s what all of this boils down to: a convincing façade that leaves plenty to the imagination. Our favorite FBBs are our favorite because they hold a special place in our hearts. All that’s required is permission to believe that she doesn’t just occupy that space…but that she belongs there.

And she does. In our minds. And hearts.

In My Own Words: Zack from San Diego

Alina Popa wants you to share your personal story!

Exactly four years ago – holy cow, time sure flies! – I posted on this blog a message calling for readers to submit their own personal stories about how they discovered female bodybuilders, why they love them so much, and what they wish they could tell the world about this shared interest. All anonymously, of course.

Sadly, in the past four years I haven’t gotten a whole lot of feedback from you folks. Oh well. But last week ago a brave soul finally reached out to me and provided answers to the questions I suggested. His name is Zack and he resides in (perpetually) sunny San Diego.

He comes across as a female muscle fan who thinks deeply about his love for FBBs. I’m sure that describes much of you out there! So, read what he has to say. And if you feel compelled to contribute your own thoughts, feel free to email me at ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com. Here’s my original post calling for reader submissions in case you need further context.

You can answer the questions I’ve posed, or you can just spew your thoughts out on your computer and send them my way. Whichever you prefer!

So, without further ado, here’s what Zack has to say, in his own words:

***

San Diego, where it’s the same weather 365 days out of the year.

When did I first discover my love for female muscle?

It all started when I was a 14-year-old high school freshman with hormones that started berserking like typical young men at that stage. One day, I was watching an episode of Fear Factor and I saw one female contestant who wasn’t exactly a “bodybuilder” type but was still well-built and did a couple “poses” before attempting a stunt that required some great physical capabilities. At the time, I was also taking a PE class that had some classroom-esque instruction in the gym involving weight training and my PE teacher was talking about what men and women each like to gain when working with weights (men obviously putting on size, but women wanting to stay firm and sturdy, etc.).

I started pondering the female stature even more to the point where I’d keep an eye out for those Bowflex commercials to catch women toning their symmetrics and continuing my Fear Factor viewings hoping to catch a glimpse of women with the real awesome statures. One day it finally occurred to me to use the wonderful tool of Google to find images of the real treasures and I was hooked. They were a safer alternative to Playboy because many of my peers had to be careful if we ever dared to seek a Playboy magazine in our old man’s secret stash (LOL). As I progressed through high school, my passion for these goddesses was known only to my mom and my sister who would occasionally glance through the internet browsing history on our computer, but they didn’t know what it was evolving into. I even stumbled upon an exercise book on my mom’s bookshelf by the great Rachel McLish, which I would discreetly glance through every now and then.

After my sophomore year, I took a part-time job at a grocery store near my house which gave me convenient access to Oxygen magazine, which I would purchase at the self-checkout machines to avoid any of my coworkers asking me questions about this hidden passion of mine. I guess you could tag it (and still can) as my “guilty pleasure.” Midway through junior year, after a few months of ogling over these glorious goddesses on paper, I had a deep dream one night and it finally happened. I woke up at about 2:00 a.m. after feeling an amazing vision involving a really close bond with the magnificent Monica Brant that resulted in my “little soldiers” deploying themselves for the very first time.

Why do I admire female bodybuilders?

For starters, let’s say I would much rather have Wonder Woman as my girlfriend instead of Sleeping Beauty (LOL).

I admire women of physical and mental strength because just as a typical woman loves a man with confidence, I would want my potential suitor to have the same qualities in herself. During our early years, we become so fixated on comparing ourselves to others that often times we forget about trying to be the best version of our individual selves. If anything, I wholeheartedly embrace my differences because they are a part of what enables me to write my own life’s story by viewing the world from my own perception rather than somebody else’s tunnel vision. Women who are not ashamed/afraid and embrace the fact that they are different turn me on. Muscle is a natural element of the human body for both men and women. Bodybuilding is a sport and form of art; neither of which are reserved for either gender in the first place.

However, I do draw the line somewhere. When it comes to female bodybuilders, the details that determine whether they maintain their femininity or cross the line into the dark territory of being masculine come not from the size of their muscles, but rather their shape and symmetry. If they have deep voices, hair growing in places it shouldn’t be, square-pecs, square-jaw, or other physical traits that are exclusive to men, I am turned off by it and rather ashamed that they would wreck themselves with steroids, destroying and disgracing a pure form of art in the process.

Have I ever met a female bodybuilder (or a woman with a lot of muscles)? If so, what were the circumstances?

Plenty of times, yes. However, I have yet to secure a date with them because they are a scarce thing to find and whenever I’ve encountered them they are either taken or in a situation where it is not easy to strike up a conversation that could possibly lead to a date. It’s happened at the gym and at fitness expos too. Just got to keep my eyes open, wait for the right timing, and it’ll happen. Patience is one of the highest virtues I pride myself on.

Have you ever engaged in a muscle worship or BDSM session with an FBB? If so, how did it go?

I did have one with a prominent FBB from Latin America whom I won’t name for privacy reasons and it went very well. I speak some Spanish (her native tongue) and had a good time and would definitely see her again if I ever travel back to Florida.

How would you react to someone who says that a guy (or gal) who likes female bodybuilders is strange, weird, kooky in the head, etc.?

It’s happened already but I am more than capable of shrugging it off because haters are gonna hate.

Have I ever told anyone that I’m into female muscle?

Through the course of my Navy career thus far I have been on two deployments and porn is naturally an essential for the occasion and I did show to my shipmates the special stash of FBB videos (including nude ones) on my computer which I’ve accumulated over the years. A couple of my friends who are already fitness buffs themselves enjoyed it but everybody else gave the typical negative comments.

If I could tell someone who doesn’t understand your attraction to female muscle one thing, what would it be?

Muscle is a natural element of the human body. That goes for males AND females.

Poetry in Motion: The Most Beautiful Sight of My Life

The fun really starts after these come off!

Author’s note: None of the women whose photos are featured in this post is the woman I’ve referred to as Muscle Angel. Her identity will not be revealed even if you privately ask me. So to confirm, Sol Meneghini, Emery Miller, and Alina Popa are not Muscle Angel. Thanks!

Two years ago I scheduled a muscle worship session with a well-known female bodybuilder. Such an occurrence happens three or four times per year for me, so this is nothing out of the ordinary.

I hadn’t seen her before, but definitely had heard of her. I won’t reveal her true identity, but I will say this to describe her: She’s a gorgeous, accomplished, internationally renowned female bodybuilder, model, and session provider with an impeccably sexy reputation. She’s easy to get along with and genuinely wants her clients to enjoy themselves during their time together. For the sake of this story, I’ll refer to her as Muscle Angel.

Muscle Angel was travelling to Seattle in the summer of 2015 as part of her usual trip throughout the continental United States. She was born in another country (I won’t tell you where) but spoke perfect English with an adorable foreign accent accompanying it. Because I knew of her beforehand, and admired her immense beauty and achievements, I had to schedule a muscle worship session with Muscle Angel. I mean, how could I not?

So, I e-mailed her and requested a one-hour long sensual muscle worship session. She offered three options: bikini, topless or nude. I was willing to pay a bit extra, so I went with nude. If you’re going to go there, why not go all the way?

She was cordial via e-mail and I got a positive vibe from her. Leading up to our appointment I watched as many videos I could find of her. Oh boy, I knew I was in for a treat! Her gracefulness, her exotic beauty, and her irresistibly curvy muscles were the total package. You couldn’t ask for anything else. I would be a fool to pass up this opportunity.

Plus, she didn’t skimp when it came to her lodging arrangements. Muscle Angel stayed at one of the fancier and highly regarded hotels in the heart of downtown Seattle. Usually FBBs stay at more affordable motels close to Seattle-Tacoma International Airport (just a side note, I happen to live a few miles south of the airport, so I usually luck out when I see an FBB for a session by not having to travel very far). But not Muscle Angel. She obviously has expensive tastes. She doesn’t just want to stay in the city – she wants to enjoy all the luxuries it can offer her. I have no qualms about that sort of attitude.

Eventually, the evening of our appointment arrived. I took the commuter train to the downtown area and walked a few blocks to the hotel. I had been there before for a work-related conference, so I knew where it was. But it would be the first time I would ever go inside a suite – especially for the occasion of seeing a gorgeous female bodybuilder in the flesh! It was dark and humid outside, but I knew in a matter of moments I would be feeling much more comfortable.

A lucky guy working on making sure Sol Meneghini is ready for a photoshoot.

Like always, I nervously waited in the lobby to receive the magical text from her telling me which room she is staying at. It came. I quickly got up from my seat and headed to the elevator. Surprisingly, she was staying on the 45^th floor! It’s definitely one of the highest points you can reach within the city limits. The elevator ride was not as long as you’d expect. Luxury hotels tend to have fantastically functioning elevators that get you from point A to point B in a matter of seconds.

I walked briskly to her room and knocked on the door as casually as I could. A few moments later the door opened. And there she was. Wow! As gorgeous as you could imagine, Muscle Angel was indeed angelic. It’s one thing to see photos and videos of someone; it’s quite another to actually meet them in-person. Trust me, the experience of seeing her in the flesh nearly made me collapse right there on the floor. Luckily, I was able to maintain my composure and I confidently walked inside to commence our time together.

After shutting the door and allowing us all the privacy in the world, we exchanged the usual pleasantries, small talk, and of course her financial compensation. I undressed and got as “comfortable” as I could possibly be. She wore a sexy two piece bikini to start off the evening. Muscle Angel looked like a natural Beach Beauty who could spend all her days lying on the sand, soaking up UV rays and sipping on margaritas. Alas, she obviously doesn’t spend her time on such frivolities. She also goes to the gym every once in a while!

Our time together was pretty laid back. I’m not interested in wrestling, so we spent the majority of our time chatting while I enjoyed the privilege of feeling up her rock hard body. Muscle Angel wore a modest amount of makeup, as if she needed artificial means to enhance her already considerable beauty. No additional assistance was necessary, if you ask me. Her jet black hair, dark eyes, and light bronze skin gave her an exotic look that made her ethnicity hard to identify. And her accent was so delightful it sent shivers up my spine.

As the hour wore on, Muscle Angel eventually took off her bikini top and bottom and allowed her body to exist in its natural state. And trust me, seeing her in the nude almost made my jaw drop to the floor. It didn’t of course, but if that hadn’t happen then the entire room should have caught on fire and burned to the ground. Thankfully, that didn’t transpire either.

Muscle Angel, in the nude, was simply breathtaking. Every single inch of her immaculate body looked deliberately sculpted to achieve a level of “perfection.” She wasn’t super huge, which worked to her advantage. She was undeniably feminine. Her curves had extra curves. For a middle-aged woman, Muscle Angel appeared ageless. She’s in a perfect stage of her life: Not too young, not too old, but aged enough to convey wisdom, sexual experience, and worldliness.

And she conveyed all of those things, no question about it. Out of all the female bodybuilders I’ve met for muscle worship sessions throughout the years, Muscle Angel is probably the most perfect combination of brains, beauty, muscularity, and erotic vivacity that I’ve ever encountered. She doesn’t particularly excel at any of those things, but she’s one of the best at embodying them all in a way that’s respectable and difficult to replicate.

I’ve met FBBs who are prettier. I’ve met FBBs who are more muscular. I’ve met FBBs who have more engaging personalities. I’ve met FBBs who are flat out sexier. But none of them could hold a candle to Muscle Angel when it comes to personifying everything you could ask for in one package. That’s not an easy feat.

Emery Miller is poetry posing by some rocks.

This particular session was noteworthy for the fact it was the first time I had ever given cunnilingus to a muscular woman. Muscle Angel was open and willing for me to “go down” on her and orally please her. Her beautiful big clit tasted wonderful, as did her completely shaved (or waxed) pubic area. I have no idea if I was able to make her come, but that didn’t really matter to me at the moment. I was just beside myself at the reality of being able to place my tongue and lips against an FBB’s considerably enormous genitalia.

As our time together neared its end, I laid on the bed – as naked as I could be – while Muscle Angel got up to get a bottle of baby oil from her suitcase. Obviously, it was time for me to receive a hand job and experience the so-called “happy ending” that so often concludes these kinds of festivities. It was at that moment that I experienced The Most Beautiful Sight of My Life.

The floor-to-ceiling window illuminated the room with moonlight. Anyone who happened to have been looking at the 45^th floor could have seen us, naked and vulnerable. Well, I was vulnerable. She wasn’t. Muscle Angel was in her element. She walked gracefully from one end of the room back to the bed. She was as naked as the day she was born. But she wasn’t naked. She was nude. She was powerful. She was magnificent. She was sexy. She had all the authority to be whatever she wanted to be.

For a brief period of time – four or five seconds – I saw The Most Beautiful Sight of My Life. I saw a gorgeous strong naked woman strut around like a true Goddess. She transcended her humanity. She became not a human being, but a deity. She was an immortal walking amongst us mere mortals. I felt like I was in the presence of Greatness. I was in the presence of the Divine. I was witnessing poetry in motion. Muscle Angel was positively angelic – in every sense of the word. I knew I would never see a sight quite like this ever again in my life.

Her hips sensually swayed from side to side. Every time she lifted her leg I could see her muscular calves swell up. Her hair glistened. Her golden brown skin looked like actual gold, as if King Midas had touched every single inch of her body. Her breasts were slender but uniquely feminine. Her curvaceous figure defied any great artist’s imagination. Her neatly waxed pubic area was classy. And of course, her beautifully sculpted muscles were awe-inspiring. Her pretty face was complemented with icy brown eyes that expressed confidence and authority all at the same time.

When you looked into her eyes, you knew you were in the presence of a true alpha female who wasn’t embarrassed by her femininity and freely uses it to her advantage. Yet, she also had a caring and nurturing side. She loves being sexy but doesn’t try to be sexy, if that makes any sense. She doesn’t need to “act sultry” in order to heat up the room. All she had to do is to be herself…and her naturalistic sensuality could play out uninterrupted.

Unfortunately, those four or five seconds had to end. But from my perspective, it lasted for an eternity. Forever will this image be burned into my memory: An absolutely gorgeous woman strutting around with the perfect combination of sexiness, confidence, coolness, and nonchalance. Once again, Muscle Angel didn’t have to try to be sexy. She just was. Without putting in any effort. That takes more than just talent or skill. That cannot be taught. That’s an ability that only an exclusive number of people can possess.

The rest of the evening went about as you would expect it to. We got frisky. She generously provided me orgasmic relief. We kissed and hugged “good bye.” I went home with a big fat grin on my face. Muscle Angel proceeded to get a good night’s rest and probably left for the airport first thing the next morning to catch a flight to her next destination. I don’t recall where that was. The next day was a work day so I had to somehow wake up and slog through an 8-hour borefest all the while trying to not get distracted by the previous evening’s erotic shenanigans.

But alas, I’ll never forget our time together. Most of all, I will never forget The Most Beautiful Sight of My Life: a strong, confident woman walking nude in front of a large open window for all the world to see. She looked majestic. She was so damn strong and so undeniably feminine at the same time. Her sexiness was effortless. She didn’t try to be sexy. She just was. That’s remarkable.

Alina Popa rocking a sexy dress that shows off her best assets.

As I reflect upon the fact that the curtains were drawn back, it occurs to me that perhaps Muscle Angel wasn’t just “performing” for me. She was actually performing for the entire Universe. Of course, odds are nobody really saw her through the 45^th story window, but what if someone did? There’s the microscopic yet somewhat plausible chance that at least one lucky bloke happened to have been gazing out his window and caught a peek of Muscle Angel in all her glory. Wow, can you imagine how heart attack-inducing such a brief glimpse would be?

The biggest reason why watching her walk from one side of the room to the other with the curtains drawn back is The Most Beautiful Sight of My Life isn’t just the fact that the moonlight perfectly accentuated Muscle Angel’s flawless body. It wasn’t just her body. It was the confidence with which she paraded that body. She’s worked damn hard to achieve her physique. And nothing would get in the way of allowing her to show it off.

I may have been the only audience member in attendance at that particular moment. Or there could have been others that neither of us knew about. But having the curtains drawn back perhaps symbolically signified that Muscle Angel wanted the whole world to see her. It’s irrelevant whether anyone else other than me actually saw her. What matters is that if someone had, Muscle Angel would allow it and relish it. Being nude empowers her. And she refuses to hide that part of her identity.

Regardless, the way she walked communicated not just confidence, but a deeply held sense of self-respect. Not narcissism, but genuine self-respect. She isn’t embarrassed by who she is. There isn’t anything about her body or soul that she needs to hide. She wasn’t just showing off her nude body – she was showing off her bare soul. She was showing me who she is as a person. Her body is crucial to her identity as a female bodybuilder. It’s only fitting that showing it off to appreciative eyes would be the way she could best live it out.

Were my eyes appreciative? You better believe it, buddy. And did she have a body that could transcend its physical limitations and actually offer a candid mirror into her soul?

In a word, yes.

So I suppose it wasn’t just poetry in motion. It was her life’s story playing out on the global stage. Her biography embedded on her muscular flesh. I’m just blessed to have been able to witness it.

Who is Your Fantasy Female Bodybuilder?

Tall, strong, and beautiful. That's Shawn Tan. — Tall, strong, and beautiful. That’s Shawn Tan.

I present to you a simple question: Who is your fantasy female bodybuilder?

The answer to this question isn’t necessarily your favorite FBB or the one you find to be the most beautiful. It’s the one you fantasize about the most often – whether you consciously choose to or not. Sometimes daydreams (especially of the erotic variety) have a way of popping into your head without you knowing it, you know what I mean?

So let’s provide a hypothetical scenario that you should consider for kicks and giggles:

You have a whole evening to spend with the female bodybuilder of your dreams. From 6:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. the next morning, you have twelve consecutive hours to spend with her. You can do whatever you want with her. Nothing is off limits. Of course, in this dream scenario she’s an enthusiastically willing participant. So you don’t have to worry about trying to impress her or capture her attention. You’ve already established that beforehand!

You can spend the evening doing whatever strikes your fancy. A romantic candlelit dinner complemented by an ice cold bottle of champagne can start the festivities. Or you could attend a concert together. Or the opera. Or an art museum. Or a BDSM dungeon. It doesn’t matter. It’s totally up to you what you do together with her.

Eventually, you’ll want to make love to her. Will it be slow and sensual? Or suave and romantic? Or dirty and kinky? Will it involve rose petals and fine wine? Or handcuffs and whips? Likewise, it’s totally up to your imagination. Anything is possible.

You can spend the whole evening caressing her gorgeous muscular body and making love to her, or you can choose to cuddle and fall asleep like two old lovers. You can be at an idyllic seaside resort, a snowy log cabin in the middle of the woods, or at a luxurious penthouse suite that sits several stories above the city. Or, if you’re into this sort of thing, you can be tied up in a secluded basement somewhere surrounded by hot candlewax, clothespins, and a blindfold.

Regardless of where your imagination takes you, you will enjoy the evening like nothing else had ever existed before it. You will enjoy the pleasure of her company, as will she enjoy yours. But once 6:00 a.m. rolls around, she instantaneously disappears and you are magically transformed back to your normal life – as if nothing had ever happened.

No consequences, no witnesses, no strings attached.

Just you and her. Nobody else. Threesomes may strike your fancy, but for the sake of this hypothetical situation, you can only choose one female bodybuilder to spend the evening with for twelve glorious erotic hours.

So…who do you got?

For me, this is a tough one. There are so many gorgeous female bodybuilders in this world of all shapes, sizes, ethnicities, nationalities, and personalities that it’s way too difficult to choose one I would want to spend an entire evening with. I do know that regardless of who I choose, I’m going to have a swell time!

Instead of telling you up front who I would choose to be my Fantasy Female Bodybuilder, I will tell you my top three in descending order. After all, I don’t want this to be the shortest blog post of all time, so I need something to discuss. So cue the drumroll, please.

Second Runner Up: Alina Popa

How strange a world we live in when Alina Popa, The Undisputed Queen of Female Bodybuilding, finishes in third place. But that’s how things operate in my active imagination. I once wrote a blog post saying that Alina Popa is my #1 favorite female bodybuilder of all time. I’m not sure if that’s still how I feel, but I’m a sucker for someone who’s at the top of their game and is currently considered one of the best (if not the best) in her sport.

Alina is one smoking gorgeous woman. She’s huge but still undeniably feminine. Her adorable Romanian accent doesn’t hurt, either! She lives in Lakewood, Colorado right now, which I suppose makes her an honorary American. She might be a U.S. citizen, but I can’t confirm or deny that. Regardless, my home country is richer and better off because Miss Popa resides in it.

What makes Alina great is her impeccable balance between being hypermuscular and strongly feminine. As a Ms. Olympia contestant (she definitely would have won a few had Iris Kyle decided to retire a couple years earlier) Alina possesses an impressive amount of muscle mass. Have you seen her arms? She could probably crush a watermelon with her bare hands if she wanted to.

But she’s also feminine in every sense of the word. Her face is traditionally beautiful and has not developed any unseemly masculine qualities over time. Her voice remains unquestionably lyrical, even though she does speak from a slightly lower register than most other women. She doesn’t seem arrogant, egotistical, or condescending. Then again, I’ve never personally met Alina, so I don’t actually know what she’s like in real life. But I’d imagine she’s a sweet lady with a big heart.

Alina has chosen not to get breast implants, so she allows her chest to remain flat as she enters her peak condition. Personally, I love female bodybuilders who decide to stay “natural.” I don’t judge at all any muscular woman who chooses surgical enhancements (she’s in control of her own body, of course), but I have a soft spot for FBBs who don’t care what society says and proudly lets her breasts shrink as her muscles get bigger and bigger.

As a premiere world-class female bodybuilder, I’d love to just chat with Alina and learn about her life’s journey. How did she get into bodybuilding? What drives her to become an elite-level competitor? What are the biggest challenges she faces on a daily basis? What major obstacles have she had to overcome? What are some obstacles she has yet to conquer? Where do you go from here? Inquiring minds need to know!

A romantic evening, alone with Alina and her flawless body, is just what he doctor would order – assuming my doctor understands what’s good for me. Perhaps in a different universe I would choose Alina to be my #1 Fantasy Female Bodybuilder. But in this concoction of reality, she is only #3, as astonishing as that sounds.

Angela Salvagno isn't for everyone, but she's definitely the gal for me! — Angela Salvagno isn’t for everyone, but she’s definitely the gal for me!

First Runner Up: Angela Salvagno

Angela Salvagno is a rare female bodybuilder who understands why guys love female bodybuilders and is not afraid to maximize her assets for personal gain. My #1 Fantasy Female Bodybuilder is the expert at this endeavor, but we’ll get to her a little later. For now, let’s indulge in Angela’s greatness.

Unlike Alina, Angela isn’t for all tastes. Her raspy voice and unique-looking face (which could be a euphemism for “homely”) doesn’t appeal to everyone. But what I love about Miss Salvagno is her undiluted sexiness and unapologetic way she shows off her beautiful body. She doesn’t try to appeal to a mass audience and instead hones in on her specific targeted audience. In many ways, Angela is an exemplary model of the modern-day female bodybuilder: She accepts she’ll never be mainstream but doesn’t hesitate to appeal just to the people who love her for who she is.

So, who is she exactly? Angela is a woman who revels in her fetishistic allure and proudly showcases what makes her fans love her. She will show off her large clitoris for the camera. She does not hesitate to reveal every inch of her body. She gives us permission to watch her, drool over her, jerk off to her, and fantasize about her. She allows us to fetishize her muscles without apology and without embarrassment. In other words, she wants us to fetishize her!

She knows not everyone will “dig” her look, but she doesn’t care about that. She could give a rat’s ass about people who are disgusted by her. Instead, Angela is just as comfortable sporting a leather-bound dominatrix costume and stroking a comically oversized black dildo as she is masturbating for the camera (and showing us her vulnerable side) while she screams and moans toward another orgasmic climax. She doesn’t pretend that millions of people will watch her do these things because she’s perfectly happy with a few thousand watching her instead.

I’d love to spend an evening with her because she’d know what I’d like to do with her. She can be a “bad girl” or she can just be herself – it all depends on what mood I’m in at the moment. She can be intimidating and authoritative, but in a “wink, wink” kind of way instead of in a frightening sort of way. Angela is super sexy, but in all fairness there are times when her sexiness feels a bit forced. I’m not judging her too harshly for that because I still think she’s jaw-dropping.

An evening with Angela would be an evening with a cool gal who’s strong, confident, savvy, and unafraid to smash the limits that society places onto her. Her personality does seem somewhat artificial in her videos, but I get the feeling she’s sweet and down-to-earth once the cameras aren’t pointed her way. Regardless, how can you possibly not want the opportunity to suck on her gorgeous clit?

Angela’s genitals are gorgeous. Her clit is, like the rest of her body, meaty. There’s a lot of flesh resting between her legs. Who wouldn’t want to taste her essence and experience all she has to offer?

Speaking of big juicy clits…

Denise Masino and her legendary clit. Need I say more?

Winner: Denise Masino

Very predictable, perhaps. But I don’t care. Denise Masino is my favorite female bodybuilder of all time (sorry Alina!) and I would love nothing more than to spend an entire erotic evening with her.

What more can be said about Denise that I haven’t written about before? Well, not much, but I will say this: Denise Masino is everything you want in a female bodybuilder and more.

Her Puerto Rican ancestry gives her an exotic look that’s completely irresistible. She’s beautiful in ways that appeal to fans and non-fans of FBBs alike. She muscular, confident, self-assured, highly intelligent, clever, conscientious, and sexy as hell. She’s feminine but does not allow herself to be put into a box. She can be coy and devilish but at the same moment maintain her dignity and realism. Unlike Angela, Denise’s sex appeal doesn’t feel false at all. She doesn’t need to “act sexy” because she’s naturally sexy just as she is. That’s a rare quality in any kind of person.

Denise isn’t necessarily the most muscular FBB around or the most naturally beautiful. But she doesn’t need to be any of those things. She may not captivate everyone when she walks into a room, but I can guarantee that if you spend any time talking with her about her life, you’ll want to stop whatever you’re doing, toss your wedding ring into a nearby trash can, and hail the next Uber to her hotel room. That’s the power she has over guys like me.

Of course, we must talk about her clit. Like Angela, Denise is well-endowed and is not afraid to prove it at every chance she gets. For that, I am eternally thankful.

There aren’t too many women who are famous for their clitoris, so Denise is in rare company. The “little penis” protruding out between her legs is legendary within the female muscle fan community (at least with this particular member of the female muscle fan community!) for good reason. It’s thick, meaty, juicy, and seemingly always engorged. And what’s best is that she isn’t shy about showing it off to anyone who’s willing to watch. Many FBBs are self-conscious and ashamed by having a “little penis” because it feeds into the negative stereotypes that female bodybuilders are secretly men or are biologically transitioning away from femininity. Denise doesn’t give a fuck about those stereotypes and proudly displays her big clit without shame. She is far from embarrassed by it. On the contrary, she’s proud of it. As she should be!

What would Denise be like in bed? I’d imagine passionate, confident, and intelligent. In other words, she’d just be herself. And that’s all she needs to be, damn it.

So there you have it. Denise Masino is my Fantasy Female Bodybuilder, but Angela Salvagno and Alina Popa are not far behind. What’s incredible is that if you were to ask me this same question a month from now, my answers might completely change. Perhaps I’d choose Minna Pajulahti as my first choice followed by Lindsay Mulinazzi and Deidre Pagnanelli. Or Lisa Cross, Victoria Dominguez and Monica Martin. Or Shawn Tan, Emery Miller and Annie Rivieccio.

Holy smokes. The possibilities are endless, are they not? But for now, I’m sticking to Alina, Angela and Denise.

I love Alina because of her accomplishments. I love Angela because of her rawness. I love Denise because of her realness. All three women are eye-popping and unforgettable in different ways. They aren’t for all tastes, but they’re definitely my personal cup of tea.

What about you? Who’s your Fantasy Female Bodybuilder? I’d like to know!