female bodybuilder – Page 10 – The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi

An Evening with a Beautiful Blonde Amazon

None of these photos are of Blonde Amazon herself, but they represent her in different ways. Beautiful legs, indeed!

A frequent request I receive from readers is to describe more of my experiences doing muscle worship sessions with female bodybuilders. My previous five-part retelling of my first ever session (nearly three years ago!) still garners a tremendous amount of page views to this day, so perhaps that’s telling me something.

In my estimation, I’ve done about 13 muscle worship sessions total in the past three years. I’ve seen the same FBB twice on two occasions, meaning I’ve met a total of 11 beautiful female bodybuilders. As expected, some sessions were better than others. Fortunately, I can say only one session was disappointing. It wasn’t because of anything major, but rather because the two of us didn’t quite connect. I don’t harbor any ill feelings toward this particular woman. She just wasn’t my cup of tea. No big deal.

It’s hard to say which one is my favorite, but I can say with confidence that the one experience I’m about to illustrate stands out above a lot of them. I’ve told her about my blog, so she could very well be reading this post as we speak! Hopefully I don’t get a stern e-mail from her complaining about anything I’ve written.

This experience happened last spring. No need to get more specific than that. We’ll call her “Blonde Amazon.” Once again, I’ll conceal her identity in order to protect her reputation. You can ask me all you want who she is, but I’ll just politely decline. You have been warned!

It all started where most muscle worship sessions start: wb270.com. Go check it out if you haven’t already. It’s not the most visually appealing website, but it gets the job done. I frequently check it to see who is planning to travel to my neck of the woods. Lo and behold, one day I see that Blonde Amazon is promising to come to the Pacific Northwest in the spring of 2015. Heck yeah! Like many FBBs who offer muscle worship sessions, I’ve known about Blonde Amazon for quite a while. She’s almost like a mini-celebrity to me.

Blonde Amazon and I had been exchanging e-mails for the past year. She originally planned to come to the Seattle area the year before, but had to cancel due to circumstances beyond her control. That’s understandable. Sometimes life gets in the way of doing business. I was a bit disappointed because I really looked forward to meeting a woman who is an Amazon in every sense of the word: Tall, strong, confident, and beautiful. Standing at a solid six feet tall, it’s not too often you see a woman of that stature who isn’t playing in the WNBA.

A year after her initial cancellation, I receive a message from her out of the blue telling me she’s planning to come to Seattle for real. Would I be interested in seeing her?

In a word, YES!

So we agree on a one hour sensual muscle worship session. Nothing too crazy or out-of-this-world. We establish a time to meet and exchange contact information. I wire her a deposit into her PayPal account and within hours she lets me know which hotel she will be staying at. And with that, we are all set to go. Monday at 9:00 p.m. I could hardly wait!

All weekend I did nothing but watch videos of her on the Internet and search for every last photo I could find. There isn’t much out there, but I saw enough to know what I was getting myself into. I’ve known about Blonde Amazon for several years, so it’s not like she was new to me. In fact, she was probably one of the first female bodybuilders I ever heard of, which added to her intrigue. She truly was a celebrity in my own mind. The general public may not know who she is, but as far as I was concerned, she was Marilyn Monroe.

What intrigued me most about Blonde Amazon was her elegance and striking beauty. She looks like she belongs on the cover of Vogue magazine. She’s traditionally beautiful and would turn heads everywhere she goes. When I saw photos of her, I thought of her as a gorgeous, statuesque woman who happens to be muscular, not a muscular woman who coincidentally happens to have a pretty face. Blonde Amazon may not be famous in our mainstream pop culture, but if she had chosen a different profession (perhaps modeling or acting) instead of bodybuilding, I have no doubt she could have made it BIG.

From the moment I woke up that morning, I could hardly wait for 9:00 p.m. to arrive. I drove to work like usual. I sat through boring meetings like usual. I worked on my projects like usual. I made small chit chat with my co-workers like usual. I seemed calm on the surface. But underneath my heart raced a little faster and my brain was going off to weird places. Not a single person at my office knew what I was about to experience just a few hours later. But life can be funny at times. For all I know, maybe one of my co-workers was also planning to see Blonde Amazon later that evening! Who knows? Stranger things have happened.

Thankfully, I was able to leave work early. I headed home, got a quick bite to eat, and sashayed to the gym for a brief workout. I try to always get a quick workout in before doing a session because it allows me to burn off some steam and “get my juices flowing” beforehand. I don’t recall what I actually did at the gym, but that doesn’t matter. I showered, got dressed, dropped off my stinky gym clothes at my apartment, checked my e-mail for any emergency messages from her (there weren’t any) and drove off to her hotel.

The drive at 7:45 p.m. was pleasantly smooth. Almost no major traffic hurdles. By then rush hour had ended, so it was practically smooth sailing. I had some difficulties finding the place because the hotel was buried behind a large business complex. A very strange place for a hotel, but that’s the way it was. The hotel wasn’t a traditional looking hotel, but instead resembled a small upper class gated community (minus the gate). I parked my car in the back area away from the other cars in order to draw less attention to myself.

I turned off the ignition and took a deep breath.

Whew.

After several moments, I walked out and tried to find her exact unit. It took me a while because the hotel was split up into four or five different buildings. Strangely enough, I had inadvertently parked my vehicle nearly in front of her room. It must have been divine intervention, obviously. I finally saw which unit she was staying in and checked my phone for the time.

8:30. Damn. I have thirty minutes until I can go knock on her door!

I returned to my car and turned on the radio. Nothing good was on. Oh well. All I need to do is pass the time before I can approach her room. Should I play a game on my phone? Nah, I don’t want to drain the battery before the night is over.

Some random Adele song plays. Then something by Walk the Moon. Finally, it’s 8:50 p.m. I know I said I had thirty minutes until I can knock on her door, but being ten minutes early never hurt anyone. After all, it’s better to be early than late.

So I get out of my car, lock it and walk toward her room. I take in a deep breath and experience the fresh spring air. Nothing about it tickles my fancy. I approach her door and notice she’s drawn the curtains over the front window. Obviously, she wants privacy. I don’t blame her one bit. I would want my privacy, too! I look around to see if anyone is watching me. No one is in sight. It’s a bit eerie, but that’s the way it is. I knock on the door and wait. The wait doesn’t last long. The door opens and I immediately have to tilt my head upward.

Whoa. She’s every bit the six feet tall she claims to be! She says “hi” and invites me inside. I enthusiastically step through the door. I close it behind me and allow my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. I look around and see a simple room that offers exactly what you’d expect: a bed, a small table, an old non-HD square television, a cute little kitchenette (with a modest refrigerator), mass produced artwork on the walls and a bathroom with a shower. You wouldn’t want to live here, but it’s not bad if you’re just passing through town.

I take off my shoes and place my backpack on the floor. The first thing we do is exchange her payment. It’s better to get the money stuff out of the way early so we can just relax and get things going with that out of the way. I give her an envelope full of cash and she quickly puts it in her luggage. Good. Now we can actually begin.

We sit down on the edge of the bed and chat to start off the evening. She talks about her kids and how they’re growing up faster than she’d like. It’s not often FBBs are open to speaking about their families, but Blonde Amazon is obviously an exception. I learned a while back not to ask too many questions about boyfriends, husbands, parents and kids. It’s best to leave family matters out of a muscle worship session. But I was pleasantly surprised that Blonde Amazon was willing to open up about her personal life to a complete stranger like me.

I find out she works in the healthcare industry as a personal caretaker. I tell her that I work at a nonprofit organization that serves the local homeless population. While our businesses are very different, we do share one thing in common: we help people. On that level, we develop a sense of mutual respect.

We chat for a bit about her competitive history and previous sessions I’ve done. Unexpectedly, she knows a few of the female bodybuilders I’ve seen in the past. It’s a small world, indeed. After about 15 or so minutes, we begin the actual sensual session. I stand up and remove all my clothes except for my underwear. I tuck it next to my backpack. Wearing a sexy black negligee, she stands up and poses for me. She isn’t as muscular as a pro bodybuilder, but she’s fit, athletic and looks fantastic. I approach her and feel her beautiful arms. She squeezes her biceps and I try to cup it in my hands. Not surprisingly, my fingers fail to contain her hard mounds of muscle. She laughs and I start to laugh with her.

I then realize that she’s a lot more muscular than I initially gave her credit for. That might be a problem with tall women. She has an impressive amount of muscle mass, but her long frame stretches it out further than it would on a shorter woman. So she is a bodybuilder. It’s just that her height makes it a little less obvious. Blonde Amazon probably has just as much muscle mass as a 5’2” female bodybuilder, but her tall body makes it harder to notice any “definition.”

I get down on my knees and feel her legs. Her long, athletic legs nearly make my heart stop mid-beat. Wow! Never in my life have I ever felt legs as sleek and sensual as hers. I probably spent most of my time feeling up her beautiful long legs. She must have noticed my affinity for her gams because she lifted one of her feet to accentuate her muscular calf. Oh baby! I could die at that moment and be a happy man for eternity. Alas, my faculties continued to operate so I could move on to her upper body.

Her shapely shoulders perfectly complement her curvy figure. Blonde Amazon’s skin feels as smooth as velvet. The texture of her body is music to my fingers. I give her a generous back massage as we continue to talk about our lives. She describes one of her caretaker clients and how compassionate she is toward him. She’s modest, of course, but I could gather that she genuinely cares about her job and the individuals she works with every day. She describes how challenging it is to meet his unique needs. I listen intently. I struggle to imagine what it’d be like to work in a profession like that. I’m thankful that there are empathetic people like Blonde Amazon who do.

At some point during the evening, she takes off the negligee and reveals her lingerie. I cannot remember exactly when, but it was a welcomed choice on her part. As I caress her neck, chest and tummy, she kindly removes her bra and tosses it to the ground. I take advantage of this and feel her gorgeous round breasts. Blonde Amazon is one elegant lady, no doubt about it! I’m serious when I say that she belongs on the front cover of a fashion magazine. Her face is as beautiful as a supermodel’s. No matter her age, she’ll always be unbelievably gorgeous. If there are people out there who are, for whatever reason, disgusted by female bodybuilders, Blonde Amazon will definitely challenge their preconceptions. She’s unquestionably feminine, curvaceous and sophisticated. What’s there not to like about that?

A rounded bottom that you cannot help but touch.

Once we get to the second half of our appointment, we begin to snuggle on the bed. My arousal becomes evident underneath my underwear. Blonde Amazon chooses not to remove her panties and I respect this boundary. Although, we did get on the subject of female anatomy and she briefly pulled down her panties to show me her clitoris. It’s as beautiful as you’d expect. Long and thick, her lady endowment is striking for both its size and natural appearance. She didn’t let me touch it, so I could only look at it in awe. My jaw didn’t exactly drop to the floor, but it might as well have. Anytime I can regard upon a female bodybuilder’s genitalia is a treat for my eyes that I must treasure dearly.

Finally, I look at the clock sitting on a bedside table and see we have approximately 10 minutes left. I think I know what’s about to come next. Like flipping a light switch, we share a simple kiss and Blonde Amazon turns on her “sexy” side with remarkable ease. I remove my underwear and throw it across the room. Who cares where it falls? After tickling my scrotum and giving me a few initial strokes, Blonde Amazon searches for her bottle of lotion and applies a small amount on the palm of her hand. Her captivating blue eyes meet mine. I get another close look at her flawless face. I swear, I cannot believe why she isn’t a famous worldwide celebrity! What gives?

I lay on my back and she slides between my legs. My penis is throbbing at this point and could explode just from a single touch. Thankfully, my “manliness” instincts kick in and I last much longer than that.

Blonde Amazon wraps her callused fingers around my erect manhood and strokes up and down with deliberate patience. There’s no rush. No hurry. She’s obviously not a clock-watcher. I reach over and touch her breasts. The tips of my fingers playfully pinch her erect nipples. I cup her mammaries and experience their fullness. As she continues to caress my penis, I notice something extraordinary. She does an incredible job of “acting” like we were having sex. Her breathing becomes heavy. Her eyes close. She looks up to the Heavens and licks her lips. She even starts to moan and groan as if we were passionately making love. We weren’t, obviously, but the expressions on her face were as hot as I’d ever seen in my life.

This woman knows how to provide a killer sensual session. She didn’t just give a hand job. She pretended like we were having wild, animalistic sex. I didn’t feel like a “john” receiving a run-of-the-mill sexual service from a strange woman. I felt like a “Man” (with a capital “M”) who was confidently making love to a gorgeous supermodel. Looking into her eyes, I felt like we were lovers with an illustrious history together. I felt like we were meant to be together. I realize this is nothing but “make-believe,” but it’s the little things like that that count in a major way.

I feel a surge of energy building up within my body. Blonde Amazon’s fake orgasm coincides with my own, as I eventually climax and ejaculate all over my stomach. My spasms go on for what seems like forever. I’m out of breath. She stops stroking my penis and allows it to deflate. I open my eyes and look at the mess I made. Blonde Amazon goes to the bathroom and returns with a clean white towel. I clean myself off. She then giggles and makes an astute observation about yours truly:

“You can shoot!”

Indeed, I can!

I always assumed this was how all guys were, but when I get excited (I mean, really excited), I can spew out my semen like a porn star. This is probably more about me than you care to know, but too bad! Blonde Amazon comments to me that she loves watching men squirt long distances. Granted, I didn’t exactly shoot out across the room and into the adjacent parking lot, but I guess what I demonstrated to her piqued her interest. Score one for me!

I joke that I should star in a porno one day. She laughs and says she’d love to watch it. She reiterates her fascination with men who can powerfully ejaculate. I guess she gets bored watching guys ooze out their seed like an elderly turtle.

She invites me to take a shower and I accept her offer. After a short rinse off, I dry myself, use the toilet and change back into my clothes. By now she’d put back on her sexy black negligee. I don’t know if she’s seeing another client that night, but she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to kick me to the curb. As I always do, I request that I take a picture of her. She obliges. I take two with my phone: one serious, the other more silly. The silly one still makes me laugh to the present day. We hug. She promises to return back to the Seattle area as soon as she practically can. I tell her that I’ll always think about the gentleman with special needs that she takes care of. She also wishes him well and hopes he’ll be able to live a happy life.

Blonde Amazon wore a sexy black negligee just like the one being worn by Eva Longoria.

I become bold and tell her about my blog. She says she’ll try to read my writing when she finds the time. Given her hectic schedule, I highly doubt she’ll ever have a spare moment to see what yours truly is up to on the Internet. I promise her I’d send her the link to my website in an e-mail message. She once again agrees to check it out. Swoon!

We share one final kiss (I have to almost stand on my toes to reach up to her lips!) and I leave her room. I’m one happy and satisfied man. As I drive back home, I come to the conclusion that Blonde Amazon is a one-of-a-kind woman who’s inner beauty radiates brighter than her outer beauty. It’s one thing to be physically gorgeous. It’s another thing to be a gracious and hardworking mother who deeply cares for the well-being of the people around her. It takes a special kind of soul to do the work she does on a daily basis. My mom used to do work similar and she got burnt out real quickly. So the fact that she persists with her job is a testament to her fortitude, emotional strength and considerate temperament.

She’s a true one-in-a-billion. Perhaps even more unique than that. Actually, yes, way more unique than that!

When I get home I e-mail her the link to my blog. Within a week, I receive a reply message from her saying she loves my writing (especially, oddly enough, my forays into erotic fiction)! Holy smokes! Add Blonde Amazon to my prestigious list of faithful readers. I hope she reads this particular post and realizes who I’m writing about. Given her intelligence and sharp insight, I don’t doubt for a moment she knew who I was talking about from the get-go.

I’m being 100 percent honest when I say I still think about the guy she cares for. I don’t know if she’s still one of her clients, but he’s quite disabled and needs plenty of caring. I’m sure his family is eternally grateful for Blonde Amazon for being the one who looks out for him.

Thank you, Blonde Amazon. Our paths haven’t crossed since that marvelous evening we spent together last spring. I don’t think she’s been over here since. If she ever decides to return to the Pacific Northwest, you can bet your life’s savings I’ll be first in line to set up another appointment with her!

But until that day arrives, all I can say is this:

Thank you, Blonde Amazon. Thank you for being you.

Check out Amber DeLuca’s Blog!

The Goddess of Fetish herself, the unparalleled Amber DeLuca.

The Internet can be a funny place. Just four years ago I was a random guy who started a blog so that I could publish my female muscle-related fantasy fiction. Predictably, I didn’t get a whole lot of traffic to my site. I didn’t expect to get a whole lot of traffic either.

Then, I made a shift and started publishing essays explaining in greater depth the issues and fascinating topics associated with female bodybuilding and the men who love them. A few viral posts later, and I’m suddenly receiving anywhere between 400 to 500 views per day. Yikes!

People from all corners of the world (and this is no exaggeration) stop by my blog to see what I have to say. Thank you for being such loyal readers! Without you, I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing nearly as much as I am. I may not be as prolific as Female Muscle Slave, but I do my best to produce quality content on a fairly regular basis. Expect more articles and stories from me in the coming years.

One of my consistent readers happens to be an active female bodybuilder herself. Amber DeLuca, who should be quite familiar with anyone who reads this blog, is apparently a fan of my work. Fantastic! I’m also a fan of her work, so I guess that’s the way things should be. Amber, in addition to being a gorgeous and strong woman, is also an ambitious entrepreneur (like many female bodybuilders in the 21^st century) who is seeking every opportunity to promote her brand to the wider world. I guess you can say I’m just doing my part to spread the love.

Her official blog can be found at steeluniverse.blogspot.com. She updates it fairly regularly, as recently she’s been posting new content every week or so. She tells me she doesn’t get nearly as much traffic as she’d like, so I’m encouraging you all out there to subscribe to her blog or bookmark the URL for future reference. Amber says she started her blog to help her promote her actual website, goddessoffetish.com, which is where you can purchase her videos, become a member and learn more about one of the true Goddesses of Female Bodybuilding.

Amber also has a documentary film coming out soon, which apparently is two years in the making. I don’t know a whole lot of details about it, but I’m sure it’ll be worth watching once it gets released to the general public. I get the feeling the film will aim to combat negative stereotypes associated with female bodybuilders and let the world know what the lifestyle is really about. I try to address many of these prejudices on this blog, but Amber and her creative team appear to be taking this to a whole new level. More power to them!

From what I can gather the documentary has a tentative summer release date scheduled. If you want to learn more about Amber and her journey to becoming a celebrity – at least within the realm of female muscle fandom – you should definitely check it out. I’ll be sure to provide further details as soon as I know them.

So check out everything she has to offer! She promised to post more content on her blog as time permits her. Also, don’t forget to “like” her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter.

I cannot imagine how busy of a life she must live. It must be overwhelming at times. But if there’s anyone strong enough to weather the storm and achieve her wildest dreams, no matter how insurmountable they may seem, it would be Amber DeLuca. No doubt about it.

A Muscular Woman is Always Nude in Public, Even When Fully Clothed

Kathy Johansson, a strong black woman in the flesh.

Female bodybuilders are caught in a perpetual problem. One they can temporarily try to remedy, but one that will always face them as long as they choose to be bodybuilders.

Imagine this scenario: A world class female bodybuilder goes to the grocery store. She walks down the produce section and selects her desired fruits and vegetables. She notices out of the corner of her eye two teenage boys staring at her incessantly. They can’t help themselves. She thinks nothing of it. Then she strolls through the breakfast cereal aisle to choose which granola she wants to eat in the mornings. Once again, she sees a little old grandma straining her weary eyes to determine whether or not the figure in front of her is a male or a female. The old woman doesn’t say a single word, but the FBB knows exactly what she’s thinking. A few moments later, she moves on to the meat section and tries to calculate in her head how many pounds of chicken and steak will last her for the rest of the week. Before she can make a definitive determination, our heroic FBB – almost on cue – spots a family of four pointing at her and whispering to each other. For the third time in the past ten minutes, she blocks out this experience and tries her best to maintain a dignified aura of “normalcy.”

For our hypothetical FBB, this is not a unique sequence of events. This is daily life. This happens all day, every day. There’s no stopping it. But over time, she’s come to expect all this unwanted attention. After all, it is unusual to see a woman with so much muscle on her body. She’s not naïve. She knows the typical person minding their own business doesn’t expect to come across a human female with the muscle mass of an NFL defensive end. But that doesn’t make the feeling of being a “circus freak” go away. It doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

This scenario illustrates a simple fact: A muscular woman is always nude in public, even when she’s fully clothed.

As a general rule, public nudity is discouraged in our society. Not just in the Western Euro-American world, but all over the planet. Call it a product of Adam and Eve, the Forbidden Fruit and the Garden of Eden; but whatever the reason is, every single one of us wears clothes for a reason. Besides, we don’t want to freeze to death every winter, do we? And let’s face it. Some of us would prefer not to see certain people naked. Ugh. We’ll leave it at that.

Whether we choose to wear pants, skirts, dresses, shirts, sweaters, socks, shoes, jackets, coats, scarves, slippers, neckties, nylon stockings, boots, robes, or jorts (denim shorts, something we need to legally ban), wearing clothes is both expected and something that’s not debated. Yes, occasionally we’ll read about local municipalities trying to outlaw bikini coffee stands, nude beaches and strip clubs, but overall the expectation that everyone wears clothes goes unspoken. Heck, public nudity is so taboo that something as mundane as a mother breastfeeding her baby will occasionally raise eyebrows from inadvertent onlookers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the way things are these days.

I wouldn't mind seeing Diana Tyuleneva naked in public. — I wouldn’t mind seeing Diana Tyuleneva naked in public.

But there are some people in this world who can’t entirely cover up their bodies. Bodybuilders, both male and female, have silhouettes that stand out from the rest of us. They can wear baggy pants and large winter overcoats all they want, but you can’t do that during the broiling heat of July. So for the vast majority of the year, when a female bodybuilder struts around in public, she can’t help but garner attention to herself – even if she’s not seeking it.

This attention won’t always be unwelcome. Nor will it always be negative. I’d wager a guess that it’s a mixed bag. Positive attention, negative attention…it’s all part of the packaged deal of living life as a professional (or as a dedicated amateur) bodybuilder. Of course, it goes without saying that public harassment is never warranted. Don’t bother people when they don’t want to be bothered. Nobody ever “asks” to be bothered, but FBBs are in the unique position of pulling attention their direction whether they want it or not.

Thus, female bodybuilders can never actually hide who they are. They are always naked. Not in the technical sense, but in the sense that their identity is always on full display to the world. But, if you think about it, isn’t that the point? Bodybuilders – whether they intend to compete or not – are trying to sculpt their bodies to fit a certain preferred aesthetic. Maximizing muscle mass, maintaining perfect symmetry, achieving the “chiseled” look, you name it. It’s all part of a master plan to attain “perfection.”

So it’s not unfathomable why female bodybuilders attract so much unprovoked attention. Not only do their bodies look different, they intentionally seek to look different. A female bodybuilder’s hard work is evident in every square inch of her body. Nothing is hidden from plain sight. So when people can’t help but stare at an FBB’s body when she minding her own business in public, can you really blame them? It might be a tired cliché to say “it is what it is,” but clichés start for a reason.

What we’re discussing here isn’t a major problem, but instead a fascinating insight into what it’s like to walk in the shoes of a female bodybuilder. They are always bare. They are always nude. They are vulnerable to unwanted attention in ways not too many of us can comprehend.

Lauranda Nall, a young up-and-coming blonde muscle bombshell.

Additionally, FBBs are nude not just in an aesthetic sense, but in a social sense. People have certain stereotypes attached to female bodybuilders. Many are fair, many are undeniably unfair. Let’s go back to the grocery store anecdote from earlier. What do you think the two teenage boys, elderly grandmother and family of four – not to mention the check-out line clerk, deli employees and the countless shoppers who aren’t in the story but definitely exist in the same environment – are talking about or thinking about when they see our protagonist up close and personal? What assumptions do they have about her? What prejudices do they hold against her? Here is a small sample of some the thoughts that might be going through their heads:

“Is that a man or a woman?”
“Somebody needs to go to the gym less!”
“Gross!”
“That’s nasty! Who would want to look like that?”
“I wonder if her boyfriend is the ‘woman’ in the relationship…”
“Boyfriend? She’s probably a lesbian. And a scary one at that.”
“She probably has a penis hiding somewhere!”
“Tranny. Without a doubt.”
“She’s probably single. Most guys would be too scared to be with her.”
“She’s a freak on steroids.”
“Boy, if I ever got her mad, she’d probably pummel me to death!”
“Seriously. Why the fuck does she want to be that buff? Doesn’t she know that’s disgusting and no guy wants their girlfriend to be like that?”
“Steroids. That’s it. That’s the only logical explanation. I wonder who sells to her…”

And blah, blah, blah. It goes on and on and on. So, unfortunately, not only is an FBB bare in the physical sense, she’s also bare in the psychological sense. People start to make assumptions about her lifestyle, relationships, sexual preferences, emotional attitudes, behavior patterns, opinions, and so on. To compare, there are a lot of people in this world who physically stand out from the rest of the general public. Someone who’s really tall or really short can catch your eye. But the difference is that you know they can’t help it. How tall or short you are as a human being is determined by genetics, not lifestyle choices.

But being as insanely muscular as a bodybuilder? That’s totally intentional. That’s not a mistake. That’s all strategic.

Being a remarkably muscular person opens up a whole can of worms of stereotypes, prejudices and cognitive dissonance. The same could also be said for very overweight people and people who make unusual fashion choices. But we’re more accustomed to seeing people with a lot of body fat than we are seeing women with huge amounts of muscle. So our reactions are going to be that much stronger.

Most of us want to blend into the crowd. Even those of us who say we “want to be different” do so within certain socially-acceptable boundaries. Shaved hair, a nose ring, hot pink stockings or tattoos may have been distasteful a generation ago, but it’s not much to blink at today. So how do you genuinely separate yourself from the herd? Simple. Be a woman with a body like Brigita Brezovac. Do all the eating, lifting, supplementation and resting necessary to achieve that look. That’ll turn heads in a hurry!

Brigita Brezovac would definitely turn my head in a hurry.

Let’s shift this conversation toward the subject of public nudity itself. What exactly about the human body is taboo? Besides multigenerational tradition dictating that we all clothe ourselves, in the Western world it’s not taboo to show a little bit of skin. We can show bare arms, legs, faces and shoulders without too much trouble. But a woman showing her bare chest? That would be unacceptable. A man letting his penis hang loose? Same deal. Do that and you spend the night in jail. Do that in front of an elementary school and you get tracked by the government for the rest of your life. These rules, it goes without saying, are quite strict!

The parts of our bodies that we really have to cover up are our genitals, butt and for women, their nipples. She can show most of her breasts without much trouble. But expose her areola? Watch out!

Generally speaking, we use the Beach Rule to decide what is or what is not acceptable. Can you wear it at the beach without getting kicked out? Alright, then it’s fine. I won’t get into too much detail as to how we established these social rules to begin with, but they follow a similar pattern: If it can be used for reproduction and nursing one’s young, it shouldn’t be seen out in the open. The penis and the vagina obviously play an important role in conceiving a child. The vagina also plays a role in giving birth to the child. And her breasts are crucial to feeding her child once he or she is born. So there’s that: Conception, birth and nurturing. The three common elements that tie together the parts of the human body we can’t show in public.

But more than that, the three body parts that we can’t show in public – the penis, vagina and a woman’s breasts – also share another element in common. They distinguish men from women. Men have a penis, women have a vagina. Men have flat breasts, women have larger breasts. The parts of our bodies that identify who we are, strangely enough, are the parts we can’t freely show off. I can’t explain why, I just know that’s the way things are.

Jennifer Abrams is showing us muscles aren't just for men. Women can have them too! — Jennifer Abrams is showing us muscles aren’t just for men. Women can have them too!

So, what about muscles? Muscles are something that men have traditionally had a monopoly on. From the statue of David to the characters in Frank Miller’s “300,” men are the ones who are physically strong and determined. Women, however, are not expected to be as physically dominant as their male counterparts. Thus, in addition to genitalia, muscles are another part of the body that separates masculinity from femininity.

Therefore, when a woman is seen with big muscles, she is clearly breaking that paradigm. She’s shattering her subordinate role and challenging men in an arena where they’ve always had the upper hand. Kathy Johansson shows us that a strong black woman can be a literal strong black woman, not someone whose strength is defined by emotional grit. I have no doubt that Kathy has incredible mental fortitude, but her physical strength is what puts her on a level playing field with men.

Thus, an FBB’s muscles don’t just expose her nakedness. They expose our nakedness too! They challenge a physically weak man’s masculine credibility. They challenge our perceptions about the differences between the genders. They defy our standards of beauty, sexuality, gender roles and power structures. A female bodybuilder’s muscles don’t just expose who she is. They also expose who we are. Our beliefs, assumptions and habits are put on display. We become vulnerable as well. Who am I as a man if a woman can work hard enough to achieve strength that surpasses mine? What kind of a man am I?

I’m not saying these assumptions are good or bad, nor that our reactions are justified or unjustified. What I’m saying is that a muscular woman’s body exposes not just what we think of her…but also what we think of ourselves. Her ability to smash perceptions forces us to reevaluate what we believe. Should we treat people differently? Should we treat ourselves differently?

This is why the subject of female bodybuilding and female bodybuilders will always fascinate me. There are an endless number of topics we can discuss related to this. Muscular women are gems. They work so hard to look the way they look. And their beautiful bodies are specimens we cannot look away from. But there’s more to it than that. When we look upon the body of a female bodybuilder, we’re not just looking at her.

We’re also looking within at ourselves.

A Female Muscle Fetish Might Not Actually Be a Fetish

"Fetish" is a strong word. And Betty Viana is a strong lady. — “Fetish” is a strong word. And Betty Viana is a strong lady.

Readers of this blog will frequently see the words “female muscle fetish” grace across their screen. Heck, it was an article titled “Top 10 Misconceptions About Having a Female Muscle Fetish” that practically put me on the map (albeit, a very small map) in the first place. So I obviously owe a great debt to the SEO gods for this phrase.

But after years of thinking about this tantalizing topic, I’ve come to the conclusion that “fetish” might be a slightly misleading label. Words having their own meaning, but it’s the connotation behind words that often times matters more. For many of us, the word “dentist” might make us cringe because of how much we hated going to the dentist as kids (and adults). Even if our dentist was the nicest person on planet Earth, the experience of having cavities filled in and anesthesia injected into our mouths was too traumatizing to make up for it.

Likewise, the word “fetish” can bring up certain associations that aren’t always true or fair. Simply defined, a fetish is “an object or bodily part whose real or fantasied presence is psychologically necessary for sexual gratification and that is an object of fixation to the extent that it may interfere with complete sexual expression.”

Whoa. Sounds heavy. Sounds serious. Sounds…confusing.

So when most of us use the word “fetish,” we’re most likely using it wrong. It’s a strong word, just like “hate” and “love.” Generally speaking, when we say the word “fetish,” we really mean “something you’re really sexually into.” Emphasis on the word “really.”

The world of female muscle fetishism runs a wide spectrum. There are guys who think fit women are sexy but don’t spend too much time thinking about them. There are guys who obsess over being physically dominated by a woman. There are some who enjoy this kink every once in a while. There are others who cannot fully enjoy sex without this aspect mixed in with it. And there are most of us who are in the middle.

Eve Stevenson is showing off how she got those big biceps.

The word “fetish” should probably imply a more extreme version of liking muscular women. But a lot of us aren’t that into it. We lust over Mavi Gioia, but we’re not willing to go to unhealthy extremes to meet her in person. We love being physically dominated by a female (either dominatrix or bodybuilder), but we’re not going to break our bank to satisfy this kink every weekend. We have our limits and we respect those limits. So is that truly a “fetish” or a “keen interest?”

But this discussion has less to do with psychology and more to do with terminology. On a larger cultural level, the concept of “female muscle fetishism” tends to imply a number of characteristics about the person who has this fetish. Some of them include, but are not limited to:

He (or she) enjoys being physically beaten or abused by a strong woman
He (or she) has low self-esteem and derives pleasure from putting their insecurities on display
He (or she) is obsessed with their fetish to the point it will most likely ruin their lives
He (or she) is socially deviant in some way
He (or she) should seek help
He (or she) obviously doesn’t find other body types attractive if they have this type of fetish

Essentially, the stereotype associated with female muscle fetishism is that the people who love strong women have a level of sexual attraction to them that either crosses a line or gets eerily close to it. What is that line exactly? Usually, it has something to do with exhibiting unhealthy or socially inappropriate behavior. They need to be counseled before they take things too far. After all, can someone who’s into muscular women be able to hold a fully functional relationship with a “normal” looking woman?

Are we really that far outside the norm?

But I beg to differ. I don’t speak for all guys (and gals) who adore muscular women, but I can say with great confidence that my tastes are not outside of what society deems to be acceptable. Admittedly, it is unusual for a guy to really dig big, buff women…but it’s not rare. The readership statistics of my humble blog alone proves that there are folks all across the globe who share this interest.

Nobody defined the 90s like Pamela Anderson.

This is why I’ve come to the conclusion that “fetish” may be too strong of a word. I’ve also used the phrase “female muscle fans” or “female muscle lovers.” I’ve written at length that my love for muscular women isn’t just physical or sexual. I admire their dedication, confidence, attention to detail, self-discipline and unwavering belief in themselves. The life of a bodybuilder, especially a female bodybuilder, is an arduous journey. Whoever is tough-minded enough to embark on that journey deserves our praise.

For me, and perhaps for many of you, we love muscular women – but they are not the only types of women we love. For almost 20 years I’ve harbored strong celebrity crushes on Famke Janssen and Rena Mero. As a teenage boy, I cannot tell you how many times I fantasized about Pamela Anderson while, ahem, “taking care” of myself in my bedroom. I don’t care that all three of these women are in their 40s. If the opportunity were to come up, I’d make sweet love to all of them (of course, I’d probably have to be extra careful about Miss Anderson, but that’s a whole other issue!) all night long.

Perhaps it’s not an accident that I discovered Famke Janssen when she played the sexy dangerous Xenia Onatopp in GoldenEye (1995), a move that’s now 20 years old. In addition to GoldenEye being my favorite James Bond movie (The Living Daylights is a distant second, followed by 2006’s Casino Royale in third place), it obviously struck a chord with me as a prepubescent boy watching a character with raw animalistic sexuality killing her enemies by choking them with her strong legs. Also, Rena Mero was a WWF Diva for the longest time. She also beat her opponents senseless with her ruthlessly brutal strength. I understand both women were playing characters, but their impact has definitely left a mark on me.

Famke Janssen remains just as beautiful today as she was 20 years ago. Maybe more beautiful, if I may say so myself.

I don’t hold too many celebrity crushes today, but certainly there are non-muscular women who excite me just as much as their buffer sisters. The young lady I currently have my eye on (I don’t think she likes me very much, but that’s not important right now) is as skinny as can be. She’s really darn cute and has almost no muscle mass whatsoever. No big deal. I still really like her!

But would any of you consider Famke Janssen or Rena Mero – you may have to rewind your clocks back to the 90s for a moment – a Bond villainess and a WWF wrestler, outside the norm of “sexy?” I wouldn’t. If I had to choose a celebrity crush today, I might lean toward Monica Bellucci (who, once again, is a Bond woman who just turned 51). Once again, is that so bizarre? If I had to choose between spending a night of passion with Ms. Bellucci versus Denise Masino, I’d probably pick Monica. But it would be a close battle.

See? My female muscle fetishism does have boundaries! I can still be reasonable every once in a while.

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating. For me, muscular women aren’t the only type of women I love. They’re just one particular type I find especially appealing. Just because Thai food is my favorite cuisine in the world doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy a delicious Italian dinner here or there. Baseball and football (not soccer. Sorry, non-American readers) might be my two favorite sports to watch, but if a basketball game were to sneak up on my TV, I might sit down and see what’s going on. Especially if an all-world player like Steph Curry is playing.

Muscular women are just one tool in the toolbox. They have a body type I find quite arousing, but that doesn’t mean non-muscular women don’t also turn me on. It doesn’t have to be “either, or.” Rarely in life do we have to choose between two stark contrasting choices. We can have it both ways!

But alas, odds are I will continue to use the phrase “female muscle fetish.” There’s nothing inherently wrong with this description. It might be a bit inaccurate, but it’s not entirely incorrect.

The self-proclaimed "Bond woman" herself, the Italian Goddess Monica Bellucci. — The self-proclaimed “Bond woman” herself, the Italian Goddess Monica Bellucci.

On the other hand, it is indisputable that many of us feel a level of attraction to strong women that can be indescribable. It pulls us in and refuses to let go. At least once a day (usually after I get back home from work) I need to check out my usual lineup of favorite female muscle-related blogs. I’m not such an addict that I need my “fix” while sitting at work. But when I’m at home, how can I not spend a few minutes and browse new photos of Juliana Malacarne, Lindsay Mulinazzi, Amber DeLuca or Monica Martin? Can you really blame me?

There’s a fine line between “keen interest” and “unhealthy obsession.” I cannot fully describe to you what they are, but I have a pretty good idea. An unhealthy obsession develops when you cannot control your own actions. When you become “addicted” to it, that’s when you know you’ve crossed this sacred line. I am not advocating for anyone to jeopardize their relationships and personal lives over our shared interest. If you feel like any of your sexual fetishes are causing tangible harm to your life, please seek out professional help immediately. I cannot stress this point enough.

Whatever happened to Rena Mero, a.k.a. Sable?

However, most of us are not in this camp. Thankfully, we love muscular women but our love for them does not have a despotic stranglehold on us. “Fetish” might be too bold of a word, but it definitely serves the purpose of describing our “keen interest” as something that goes beyond a casual diversion. There’s nothing casual about our fandom. It’s made an indelible mark. But is it unhealthy? I would positively say “no” to that.

Words have meaning. But so do emotions. And gut reactions. We know beauty when we see it. We may not be able to put an actual word – or string of words – to it, but we don’t have to. We can appreciate something without slapping an artificial label on it. Fetish or no fetish, that’s somewhat irrelevant. It is what it is. We love muscular women. Period. What this love should be called matters very little to us.

Muscle Goddess on the Beach

All I need is a warm beach, a cold drink and a beautiful female bodybuilder by my side. Is that too much to ask for?

The crashing of waves against the white sandy beach echoes along the secluded picturesque shore. Moonlight floods from every direction, illuminating the night sky. The gentle breeze barely resonate a sound, but imposes itself just enough to encourage the tall palm trees to sway back and forth.

Walking hand-in-hand next to the foamy green water with her, I still cannot believe how lucky I am at this moment in time. Kristina is her name. A competitive female bodybuilder, entrepreneur and rising star on the world stage, it makes absolutely no sense why she would choose to be with me. She could be with any man in the world. So why me?

Why not someone else – someone more handsome, rich and influential?

“Look, darling! I think I just saw a dolphin over there!” Kristina points out to sea, insisting she saw a majestic cetacean mammal gliding across the frothy waters. I do believe I saw out of the corner of my eye a black figure dancing across the tide, but my focus and attention is elsewhere. All I want to do is to look at her.

Standing at an imposing 6’ 4”, Kristina is all muscle, completely ripped from head to toe. Nearing her 50^th birthday, it also seems rather odd for a woman of her age to be holding hands with a young man who hasn’t hit 25 just yet. But here we are, drinking in the midnight air on the shores of paradise like two old lovers.

Her grip on my hand becomes tighter as we see two more dolphins leap high into the air and splash into the water. Poetry in motion. I caress her large bicep, feeling the long purple vein protruding down the middle of it. She may be more than twice my age, but she is without a doubt the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. We met just a few days ago. She just completed a competition and needed a well-deserved vacation. I happen to live here in this beach city, so I am accustomed to being surrounded by tourists.

But not tourists like Kristina. She’s a one-of-a-kind.

“I don’t want this night to end, my love,” I impulsively whisper into her ear. Wait, what? Did I just call her “my love?” How could I be so foolish? How can I possibly call a woman I hardly know “my love” when she could very well be married and have kids who are my age? What am I doing assuming that…

“Nor do I, my love,” she whispers back.

Well. That settles matters!

We continue walking for several minutes in complete silence. Her grip never loosens. We eventually reach a more secluded part of the beach, away from drunk partiers, debris, empty beer bottles and all signs of humanity. The bright moon blankets the entire beach with its intrusive glow. I love the feeling of the cool sand tickling my toes. However, I love being with Kristina even more. We look like an odd pair. Her tall stature and jaw-dropping muscular body is certainly an unusual sight compared to my smaller frame and shorter height. But I don’t mind one bit. She’s a heavenly Goddess and I am infinitely lucky to be with her right now.

I really want to caress the bicep of Beata Antoninas.

Kristina turns to face me. She leans over and kisses me. Her hot lips steal my breath. Her musky scent is like sweet perfume. Her gorgeous face, while touched with the inevitable lines and wrinkles of age, can still make your heart stop when you gaze upon it. Just looking at her navy blue eyes is enough to erupt a giddy energy within me.

“We’re all alone,” she observes.

“Yes, we are. What shall we do with the rest of our evening?” We snuggle close. The cool midnight breeze is a welcomed change from the hot and humid 90 degree heat endured by all of us earlier in the day. I will accept these conditions every single time.

“As you said before, you don’t want this evening to end, am I right?”

“Right.”

“Then let’s make sure that doesn’t happen, lover boy.” With that, Kristina pulls me in close and kisses me again. She boldly unzips my pants and pulls down my underwear. I gasp so hard while kissing her it nearly causes me to choke. But I do nothing to stop her. She fondles my penis, encouraging it to swell in her hands. When our lips come apart, I reach behind her and unhook the back of her dress. My arms barely reach around her thick torso. Never in my life did I ever expect I’d be with such a strong beautiful woman as Kristina. But here I am, living out a fantasy most men could only dream about.

“My pleasure, Kristina,” I whisper in her ear. Taking my time, I patiently push her yellow sundress lower and lower, struggling to unravel the tight fabric from her large, bulky body. How she is able to put on any article of clothing without it ripping to shreds is a mystery to me!

Finally, the dress pools around her ankles. She kicks it away from her feet and lets it lie in the smooth sand. We finish denuding each other, completely careless about the fact that at any moment we could be spotted by a passerby. If we get caught in the act, so be it. Let them watch. We don’t care.

Stark naked, Kristina backs away and shows off a series of award-winning bodybuilding poses. Watching her immaculate body at work is enough to make me forget to breathe.

“God, you look incredible,” I say, in almost a trance-like state. “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

I look down at my own naked body and feel self-conscious. Does she really think I look good? I’m sure she’s accustomed to seeing guys who look way better than me. How do I compare? Is she just being nice to me, or is she genuinely telling me the truth? How can I know either way? What should–

Before I could finish my ramblings thoughts, Kristina tackles me and knocks me to the ground. She kisses me and playfully bites my upper lip. I press my tongue against hers and we taste each other’s saliva. It may not sound too romantic, but up to now this is the hottest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Her sizzling breathe delightfully burns the inside of my mouth.

May I please cuddle up with Deidre Pagnanelli?

Wasting no time at all, Kristina spreads her legs wide across the ground, burying her toes in the sand. She pinches the base of my penis and positions it in front of her moist entryway. I take in a deep breath. She lets out a moan as she rubs my hard shaft against her engorged clitoris. She refuses to wait any further and lowers herself onto my manhood. We both let out audible groans as we intimately join together. Kristina experiments with a few up and down thrusts as I grab her breasts and pinch her erect nipples.

Bodybuilding may have made her breasts small and flat, but I still treat them as if they were the most beautiful pair in the world. Her nipples, sticking out a full inch, are dark pink and clearly sensitive to the touch – judging from her sudden twitch when I take one of them into my mouth. Kristina powerfully thrusts down hard on my penis, sending jolts of pleasure throughout my whole body. Her enormous frame engulfs my entire being. Covered from head to toe with her hard feminine flesh, I am trapped underneath her…though I have no reasons to complain about this.

As a reckless wave of seawater splashes across a nearby protruding rocky cliff, a warm current of air sweeps across our bodies. Goosebumps form across Kristina’s broad back. I desperately want to feel every single one of them. I want to brush my fingers up and down every mound of muscle on her back, experiencing the fruits of all her pull-ups, deadlifts and bent over barbell rows. Thankfully, I have this moment and many more moments afterward to appreciate her hard work.

“I want you to come inside me, baby,” Kristina pleads with me.

“I’m almost there, gorgeous lady,” I reply. Our lips meet. She bites down on my lower lip. I extend my tongue into her mouth and explore. She meets my tongue with hers. The tension builds to a fever level. We are both close to climax but want to delay it as long as possible. Kristina pulls away from me and massages my scrotum with her callused fingers.

“Let’s not end the party quite yet, mister.”

“What do you suggest we do in the meantime?” I remain laying face-up. The cool soft sand feels incredible against my backside. Kristina keeps on massaging my balls as I reach out and caress her thighs, which are as thick as tree trunks. All her long hours of squatting heavy bone-crunching weights have paid off considerably. Every detail of her quads are well defined. I move down to her calves. They are equally enormous. My hands cannot grasp all of it.

We can all use more Sheila Rock in our lives.

“I suggest we enjoy each other’s bodies,” she says. Kristina moves away from my balls and caresses my chest, tickling my nipples in the process. I jolt up in gleeful surprise when she playfully pinches them hard.

“Oh, Kristina. You know how to drive me mad, you know that?”

“I can only imagine how much I drive you insane. Do you know a lot of women like me?” She proudly flexes her big swollen biceps – bouncing them up and down with impressive precision. I sit up and lick her plump bicep peak. She responds by flexing even harder. The tips of the mountains sitting on her arms are a breathtaking sight to behold. I start to wonder if her bulging muscles will burst out of her skin!

“I have never met a woman as beautiful and strong as you, my dear. Never in my life,” I say to her between licks. “I can guarantee you of that.” My hands reach out and stroke her six-pack abdomen. I feel like I’m going to climax just from doing that. Surprisingly, I remain in control. My fingers go lower and pinch her engorged clitoris. Enlarged from years of using human growth hormones, from a distance it could look like Kristina has a man’s penis. She doesn’t, though. Kristina is unmistakably ALL woman.

“Thank you, darling. I like the way you look, too.” Showing her sincerity, Kristina leaves a trail of kisses down my tummy and ends between my legs. She lightly smooches the tip of my penis. I still struggle to keep my composure together. Kristina giggles at my predicament. Finally, she takes me into her big strong arms and hugs me with all her might. I feel as though the bones in my body will shatter. But her embrace is warm and loving. She sits up and positions me across her lap. Facing each other, we share a languorous kiss before I enter her moist vagina once again.

I bounce up and down on her lap. Our lips never come apart. Our eyes may be closed, but we are staring straight into each other’s souls. She wraps her strong legs around my backside and squeezes me possessively. I want her to own me. I want her to possess me. I want to be hers.

At last, we come together. We both cry out in pleasure. I empty myself inside her. She contracts wildly around my throbbing manhood. We breathe heavily. I collapse on top of her. She falls backwards and lets the cool sand infest her hair. We kiss with every ounce of energy we have left.

After a few moments – but what seemed like a blissful eternity – I remove my softened penis from her and hold her close. By now I look up at a nearby hill and see we’ve attracted a small crowd of audience members. At least a dozen fellow tourists, peering down at our public display of passion, watched in stunned silence. When they see me catching them in the act of shameless voyeurism, they flee as quickly as I noticed them. But I don’t mind. Kristina looks up too and discovers our lovemaking was not made in private.

“Hm. Let them watch, I say!” We snuggle close. The waves cease to crash against the shore and instead calmly brush up against the dry perimeter. After a lengthy kissing session, we pick up our clothes and walk back toward our resort house. It’s only a quarter of a mile away, but we take our merry time making the stroll. All good things in life shouldn’t be rushed. We are in absolutely no hurry.

The moon’s ominous glow portends what will come for us later that evening. I know for a fact Kristina and I will not sleep a wink tonight. Eagerly anticipating hours upon hours of endless carnal pleasure, I take a moment to reflect upon how genuinely lucky I am to be with Kristina at this moment. I’ve always known I was lucky, but I never knew until right now just how fortunate I am.

Truly, she can be with any man in the world. Why me?

Seriously. Why me?

Before the Heavens can provide me with an answer, Kristina picks me up with her mighty arms and carries me through the front door. It slams shut behind us unapologetically. What comes next is not fate, but destiny.

Are You Ready for Your Close-Up?

Who is ready for becoming an international media superstar? It could be YOU!

Stories have the power to change the world. Fables, parables, tragedies, comedies, oral tales, campfire stories, books, poems, movies, TV shows, playground gossip, the list goes on. Stories of all kind help us understand the world around us. Without them, what would the human experience be like? That is a scenario I would not want to encounter.

Love stories especially have a special drawing power. They entice audiences into an intoxicating grasp. How else can you explain the immortal popularity of William Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet?

The reason for this pseudo-philosophical introduction is to invite you to consider participating in a unique opportunity to tell your own story. I’m going to venture a guess that most of my readers are fans of female bodybuilders. More specifically, I’d say the vast majority of you are guys who are fans of female bodybuilders. Am I far off? I sure hope not.

So, here’s the deal: I was recently contacted by a representative of Waddell Media, a media production company based in Northern Ireland that creates documentaries and “specialist factual programmes” for UK, Irish and international audiences. Judging from Google Maps, their office is located in Belfast. I never heard of these folks before one of their employees contacted me last week, but they seem to be a legitimate professional media company that produces high quality work.

As you can expect, one of their upcoming projects deals with the subject of female bodybuilders and the men who love them. A huge surprise, isn’t it? Well, they obviously did a thorough Google search and randomly stumbled upon yours truly. The Internet can be a fascinating place. Where else can someone in Northern Ireland research guys who are into muscular women and run into a humble blogger from Seattle like me? What a world we live in!

I’m told they’re working on creating a TV documentary on the subject of female bodybuilders and love. They’ve already reached out to a few FBBs to ask them to be interviewed about dating and finding love in a world that can be either repulsed by or deeply fetishistic towards muscular women. They also want to interview guys who are actively searching for a muscular woman with which to settle down and have a relationship with.

At first they asked if I would be interested in being an interview subject. I told them I am not because I am not actually interested in dating or marrying a muscular woman. If one were to come into my life and spark my romantic interest, I would be all in. But I am not actively going down that path. So, they would like to know if any of YOU are interested in helping them out.

A previous Waddell Media project entitled "Paul & Nick's Big American Food Trip." — A previous Waddell Media project entitled “Paul & Nick’s Big American Food Trip.”

You would have to be comfortable to appear on camera. I don’t know exactly how they’ll work with folks who live outside of the UK, but I’m assuming with Skype freely available to most of us, that would be a viable solution to solving the problem of physical distance. But I will not speak for them. You can reach out to them directly if you feel compelled to participate in their TV project.

Are you searching for love? Are you seeking out a beautiful muscular woman to settle down with and call “The One?” If so, Waddell Media needs you! Will you lend a helping hand?

Interested applicants can contact Mairead Kelly at mairead@waddellmedia.com or call 01144 28904 27646. I am not familiar with making international telephone calls, but I’m going to venture a guess and say you might have to pay a bit to speak with Mairead on the phone. Just send her an e-mail. That would be much easier.

Good luck! I definitely look forward to watching this documentary whenever it’s completed. Perhaps I’ll get to see one of you getting your moment in the spotlight!

Are you ready for your close-up? You better be.

Fetishism, Fandom and Fortunes: The Awkward Nature of Being a Female Bodybuilder

Chellss gives me the "feels." — Chellss gives me the “feels.”

It’s hard out there for a female bodybuilder.

There are, of course, the obvious reasons why. Her profession is being squeezed out of existence by The Powers That Be. Receiving weird looks from strangers. The pressures of working in a highly competitive field. The lifestyle. The dieting. The workouts. Financial troubles. How time consuming everything can be. There are more reasons, but one in particular stands out above the rest.

Being fetishized.

I’ve discussed at length the concept of female muscle fetishism from the perspective of a guy who has it. I’ve discussed what it feels like, misconceptions about it, why it’s not a bad thing and what lessons we can learn from it. But I am about to attempt to discuss this topic from a different perspective: That of a female bodybuilder.

Obviously I am not a female bodybuilder. I am not close friends with one nor do I regularly hang out with one. But, I’ve had enough conversations with real life female bodybuilders – through muscle worship sessions during the past three years – to be able to formulate at least a few half-way decent arguments on their behalf. I don’t claim to speak for any or all female bodybuilders, but perhaps I can attempt to step out of my own shoes and look at the world from their perspective momentarily.

I might fail miserably, but it’s worth a shot. So here we go.

Female muscle fetishism unfortunately opens the doors to a number of negative consequences. Female bodybuilders are stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, they can make quite a lot of money on the side by utilizing their assets for financial gain. On the other hand, having adoring fans always comes with backlash. Let’s look at the first point in further detail.

Laurie Steele has buns of steel. See what I did there?

The lifestyle of being a female bodybuilder is difficult from a financial point of view. The costs of being a professional bodybuilder far outweigh whatever monetary rewards one gets in return. Competitions don’t usually garner enough money to live comfortably. Only the elite competitors are afforded the luxuries that come with being at the top. The rest, unfortunately, usually have to resort to working a second job (usually in personal training, modeling, consulting, and so on) just to make ends meet. It’s agonizing to not know where your next paycheck will come from.

So, a lot of female bodybuilders will turn to offering “sessions” as a way to supplement their income. Muscle worship, wrestling, BDSM and other erotically-charged services are what we’re talking about. One cannot deny that these sessions are erotic in nature. Even if no actual sex is involved – which is usually the case – eroticism is an integral part of what these sessions are all about.

Consequently, a lot of female bodybuilders are uncomfortable with this reality. Not everyone likes doing sessions, but they feel like they must in order to put food in the table. Sexuality is a very personal aspect to one’s life. So they have every reason to feel uneasy toward being an erotic provider. While it’s true that, technically speaking, nobody forces you to offer sessions to clients, it’s perfectly understandable why one wouldn’t be 100 percent comfortable with being involved in this underground business.

That being said, a session provider – whether you’re a bodybuilder, wrestler, athlete or someone whose physical attributes are in high demand – can make a significant amount of dough if she markets herself the right way. Let’s say you charge $350 per hour. If you see 10 clients over a period of two days, you can make around $3,500 for two days’ worth of work. If you subtract the cost of the airplane ticket you purchased to get to that city (around $600), booking the hotel room (an extra $200) and food expenses ($50, assuming you don’t bring your own food), you’re still making approximately $2,650 in a 48 hour period. Even if it’s less, let’s say $2,500 or as low as $1,700, that’s an average of $850-1,250 per day, or $106-156 per hour, from the basis of a traditional eight hour working day. And these are conservative estimates. Not every city stay will be that lucrative, but you can also expect certain visits to be more profitable than others.

Her name is "DD," but I cannot find out what her real name is. Can anybody help? — Her name is “DD,” but I cannot find out what her real name is. Can anybody help?

My math can be totally off, but you can clearly see why so many FBBs provide sessions on the side. Travelling across the country (and the world, if you’re in that much demand) and seeing clients for an hour or two at a time can be a real boost to your bank account.

The financial rewards she can gain increase if she develops a loyal clientele in certain cities. Especially if she has one or two clients who are really loyal and are not against spending upwards of $500 to $600 for an extravagant session. I personally don’t have that kind of expendable income, but there are people out there who do. And they can make an FBB a small fortune if they love seeing her that much.

There is another way FBBs exploit their bodies for financial gain: Porn. Whether we’re talking about erotic photography, webcam shows or good old fashioned snuff films, we all know what we’re dealing with here. Further detail isn’t really necessary, but suffice to say, pornography is another viable way female bodybuilders can earn a steady income.

When a female bodybuilder chooses (and I cannot emphasize the word choose enough!) to do sessions, porn, or both, there’s no doubt that taking advantage of her erotic appeal is an undeniably important part of the business. There’s absolutely no obligation to do so of course, but the allure certainly is there for the taking. These financial opportunities are rooted in basic capitalistic principles, but this whole “off-the-books” business boils down to this essential ingredient: fetishism.

To review our terms for a moment, a “fetish” is “an object or bodily part whose real or fantasied presence is psychologically necessary for sexual gratification and that is an object of fixation to the extent that it may interfere with complete sexual expression.” To put it in proper context, it’s when guys and gals receive a strong sexual response to a female bodybuilder’s muscles. It’s no different than any other type of erotic fixation. But this discussion boils down to one very difficult question to answer:

Can you separate female muscle fandom from sexual fetishism?

Or, in other words, is it possible for female muscle fandom to be completely asexual? Certainly sports unto itself isn’t sexual. The ancient Greeks may have conducted their games in the nude, but that mostly was done because clothing can be a hindrance to an athlete’s performance. Today, we have top-of-the-line sports gear that makes that problem irrelevant. Wearing an Under Armor workout shirt almost feels like a second skin. But…we’re getting slightly off topic. Is it possible for our fascination with female muscle to be purely nonsexual? That’s a thought-provoking issue to chew on.

A statuesque Marina Lopez looking triumphant.

As discussed before, the sport of female bodybuilding has been sexualized to the point that the erotic aspect of it is probably more financially lucrative than the competitive side of it. To be fair, almost all female sports are sexualized, but that’s a whole other story. What makes bodybuilding (not just female bodybuilding, but male as well) special is the very fact that aesthetic appeal is so foundational to the sport itself. Nobody cares if you have a finely chiseled body if you can hit 40 home runs, rush for 1,500 yards or consistently hit clutch 3-pointers when it matters. Most of these athletes have fantastic looking bodies as it is, but their looks aren’t why they’re valuable. Their value is determined by their on-the-field production. For bodybuilders, their looks are all that matters.

It’s hard out there for a female bodybuilder, indeed. If it truly is impossible – or at the very least, highly difficult – to separate the sport from its erotic undertones, what do you do if you’re uncomfortable with expressing your sexuality so openly? If I were a female bodybuilder, I would have to be very comfortable with my sexuality, or else I would have to be forced to find a new day job. There’s no debate that eroticism, fetishism and the like are deeply embedded within the sport. But is that the way it has to be? Are there alternatives? Can female bodybuilding be genuinely asexual in nature?

To be honest, it can. But it won’t be easy. But that begs a further question: Why does it matter?

Or better yet: Is sexuality inherently a bad thing?

The fetish of female muscle is obviously a taboo subject. Heck, generally speaking the subject of sexuality as a whole is taboo. But from the perspective of a guy who’s attracted to strong women, it’s an especially weird topic of discussion. That’s why this often goes unspoken. From the perspective of a female bodybuilder, things are also probably pretty weird. But “weirdness” is not necessarily an indication of something being wrong. It could be an indication of something that we need to talk about more often.

But, stepping back into an FBB’s shoes for a moment, it’s perfectly understandable why the sport will always be in a tumultuous state. Incorporating sexuality into the industry keeps the ship afloat, but it can also degrade the sport into exploitative territory. Once you start to go down that path, how can you maintain a consistent level of respectability? There’s nothing wrong with sexuality, but must FBBs be reduced down to mere sex objects who exist solely to satisfy our base desires? The answer is an emphatic “no!”

Perhaps we can have it both ways. We can embrace the erotic nature of the sport without degrading the humanity of the participants. That sounds awesome in theory, but theory has a funny way of not always becoming standard practice.

This is an issue that FBBs and fans of FBBs will always wrestle with. I do not believe that sexualizing someone automatically degrades them. But I also believe it can if we allow it to happen. A female bodybuilder is caught in a perpetual cycle of disorder. Their sex appeal can make them superstars in the eyes of their adoring fans, but it also comes with negative consequences that are almost unavoidable.

So, is it fair to say that this is a “problem” every female muscle fan should be aware of? Well, yes and no. One should always be aware of the potential consequences of one’s actions. However, is it really fair to say that this is a problem to begin with? Is it inherently ruinous for sexuality to be so deeply engrained in the sport of female bodybuilding? Does the almost inseparable eroticism associated with the sport do a disservice to its competitors?

Don't get naughty around Wendy McMaster. She might spank you! — Don’t get naughty around Wendy McMaster. She might spank you!

A positive first step is to think of these issues as not being “problems,” but rather things to consider. There is probably no perfect answer. It truly is hard for female bodybuilders and athletes to exist in a business that nearly works against them if they try to downplay their sexuality. As fans, we can hold both sports-related and erotic interests in these women without being degrading to them or to ourselves. But that fine line between appreciation and objectification can be hard to distinguish.

Being fetishized can be a strange thing. Having a fetish can also be strange. If we both admit what we know to be true in our hearts, do we really need to exist with all this pent-up tension? Sometimes the best solution to our problems isn’t to come to a mutual answer, but to a level of mutual understanding. Let’s seek to understand where we all stand and carry on from there, okay?

Bridgette – A Star is Born (part four)

At exactly 5:58 p.m., Sean is waiting outside the Downtown Convention Center. His sweaty palm grips his phone like a slugger clutching a bat. He has a text message ready for Bridgette. All he needs to do is press “send” and the message will be sent to her.

Well, what exactly is he waiting for?

He looks at his phone. 5:59. One more minute.

His pre-written message says “Hi Bridgette! It’s Sean. I’m waiting outside the Convention Center. I’m here!” Simple enough. Sean knows Bridgette has his number in her phone already, but he figured identifying himself wouldn’t hurt. He glances at his phone again. It’s now 6:00. Okay, time to send off this puppy…

Then his phone buzzes. He answers it. It’s her.

“Hi Sean! Are you outside?”

“Yes, I am. I was about to send you a text letting you know where I am, but you beat me to the punch. I’m here!” It’s a bit chilly, but not unbearable. He’d rather be inside though, in the presence of the most gorgeous muscle lady in the known Universe.

“Awesome! I’ll let you in through the back door. It’s on the west side of the building. There’s a sign that says ‘Talent Entrance,’ or something like that. Do you know what I’m talking about?” Sean scoots himself to the west side of the Downtown Convention Center and indeed sees a brass sign above a bamboo wooden door that says “Talent Entrance.” He sees a homeless guy sleeping next to it with an empty bottle of Hennessy and a used marijuana joint. He tells Bridgette that he’s right at the entrance.

“Great! I’ll be down in a minute or two!” She hangs up on him. He waits for her to open the door. He wishes she’d come sooner because the stench of the homeless man is starting to give him a massive headache. Soon enough, the bamboo doors open and he marvels at the woman standing inside it. Bridgette. The Blonde Muscle Goddess. Dressed in jeans and a revealing lavender tank top, all her muscles look primed and pumped. She is a spectacle to behold.

“Sean! Come in. Hurry. The show starts in an hour but I have tons of press interviews to do. Do you know TMZ is here?” Bridgette ushers him inside a dazzling maze of humanity. The smell of spray tan permeates his senses. Everywhere, around every corner and every hallway, he sees what seems like hundreds of fit and muscular men and women of all shapes and sizes. Buff dudes with biceps as large as basketballs. Women with thighs that could crush a watermelon. Men and women with bodies like Greek Gods and Goddesses. They could bend steel, push a truck up a mountain and rip a phone book in half if they wanted to. Sean couldn’t take in what he was seeing with his own eyes. Bridgette was holding his hand and running toward somewhere, darting between oiled up musclemen and musclewomen. He hardly had time to catch his breath.

Eventually, they arrive at her dressing room. As the “Marquee Guest Poser,” Bridgette is entitled to a dressing room all to herself. Small and cramped, it does the job. Mirrors on three of the four sides, the room is both very hot (from all the lights) and smelly. He doubts anyone has cleaned this tiny room in years. He would usually be disgusted by all this, but the room had a very distinct musky “Bridgette” smell that he found so incredibly intoxicating.

“Sorry for rushing you over here. You probably saw all the camera people and photographers out there. If any of them saw you with me, they might start to suspect that you’re the star of that infamous video of mine,” Bridgette says.

“Hey, no problem. I understand. Thank you for respecting my privacy,” he says. “You look amazing as always, Bridgette.” She leans over and kisses him deeply. It steals his breath. When their lips depart, she reaches down and feels his arousal. Sean blushes at his instantaneous hardness.

“I can tell that you think I’m amazing. Look at you! Already hard. Naughty boy.” Bridgette turns from him and applies ruby red lipstick on her gorgeous luscious lips. Sean exhales and sits down on the nearest available chair. He listens outside and hears two male bodybuilders arguing over who has better calves. He also hears a female sports reporter interviewing one of the female figure competitors. Regardless of the pandemonium happening beyond these walls, he could only think about the gorgeous woman standing before him.

“I can be a naughty boy, yes.”

“Well, we’ll have more time to explore that later. For now, I got to get ready. Can you please hand me my mascara?” She points to a small black tube lying next to him. He hands it to her. She begins to apply the mascara onto her eyebrows when all of a sudden a quiet voice comes out of the PA system.

“Miss Beaulieu, you’re needed in the Media Room in five minutes. Thank you.”

Bridgette presses a red button on the wall. “Gotcha. Thanks.”

“It looks as though I have to do some media sessions with these reporters. Lots of them will be asking about our video. Right afterward I have to get back stage and get ready for my performance. I’m opening the show, if you can believe that.” Bridgette stands up and takes off her tank top. Wearing no bra, he could see every mound of muscle on her broad back. He looks at her tiny breasts and the incredibly long and thick nipples protruding out of them. She smiles at him.

“Like what you see, Sean?” She teases him by pinching her nipples and licking her lips.

“Nah, I’ve seen better.”

Bridgette laughs and playfully punches him in the arm. Though she didn’t mean any harm by it, her brute strength is hard to control. Her light tap on his bicep is enough to leave a stinging pain. He doesn’t mind.

I imagine Bridgette's lips would look as luscious as these. — I imagine Bridgette’s lips would look as luscious as these.

“You mean little boy! God, I should punish you for being so mean. Perhaps later, no?” She removes her jeans and slips off her tennis shoes. Her massive quads are enough to make his heart pump a little faster. She unzips her bag and takes out an absolutely stunning lily white cocktail dress. She shows it to him.

“Tell me honestly. Should I go with underwear or without?”

“Oh, without underwear. No doubt about it. That would be supremely hot. Go for it, Bridgette dear.” His eyes still have not left her legs. Long and abundant, he could only imagine having them wrapped around his neck and being helplessly at her mercy. He wanted to be helpless. He wanted her to control him.

“Okay, you got it. Naughty it is.” Bridgette slips off her panties and reveals her plump, jaw-dropping clitoris. Almost three inches long, he remembers his reaction the first time he saw it. But nothing could ever prepare him for seeing it again up-close-and-personal.

Bridgette puts on the white dress. It generously shows off every inch of her powerful figure. Very little is left to the imagination. That’s the way she likes it.

“Alright, I got to go. Oh, I almost forgot!” She reaches into her bag and takes out a nametag. She gives it to him and Sean pins it to his shirt. The nametag identifies his name and says he’s a “VIP.”

“A VIP? What privileges does this entail?”

“You get to sit in the first five rows of the Convention Hall. And you get a free drink at the bar! My treat.” She puts on a pair of sexy 4-inch black stiletto heels. The sparkly tip shines a light that could probably be seen from a hundred miles.

“Gotta go. See you after the show! Text me to let me know where you are,” she says. “As you can tell, there are several thousand people here and it can be easy to lose each other.” They kiss and she leaves the dressing room. Sean sits around for a while, all alone, and ponders how he ever got to be so damn lucky.

45 minutes later Sean is sitting in the front row of a jam-packed Convention Hall. Thousands of people, many of them bodybuilders, many of them not, have found their way to their respective seats. He opens his program and discovers Bridgette isn’t actually performing first, but somewhere in the middle of the evening’s festivities. Disappointed, Sean could do nothing but sit back and watch the endless stream of competitors roll on.

Male fitness. Female fitness. Male physique. Female physique. Junior competitors. High school competitors. Female figure. Female bikini.

Nothing but faceless people, of all shapes and sizes, standing around trying to get noticed. A lot of the competitors were quite remarkable, but Sean knows Bridgette knocks them all down a notch. Her flawless balance of beauty, traditional femininity, and pure muscularity is unparalleled. No one compares to her. None of the female competitors are nearly as radiant and charismatic as her. None.

An hour in. Sean yawns. Then, the MC makes an important announcement:

“Ladies and gentlemen, you are now in for a treat. She is a nationally-known competitive female bodybuilder. A world class athlete. In 2006 she won her first contest at the Tampa Classic. She followed that up in 2008 by finishing in the top five at her first shot at the Bay Area Cup. Between 2010 and 2015 she has been a top 50-ranked female competitor. Her sights are now set on the Ms. Olympia. Recently, she has gained viral fame for her ventures in the world of adult entertainment.”

An awkward murmur rises from the crowd. Sean blushes. Are they harshly judging her? Are they labeling her a “whore?” He hopes nobody thinks of Bridgette like that.

“Now, please sit back, relax and give it up for…BRIDGETTE BEAULIEU!”

The catty chatter ends and raucous applause begins. Lights go down. The people become quiet. A lump of nervousness sits high in Sean’s throat. It’s about to begin.

Spotlight on Bridgette. She stands there with her head down. Then, the first few beats of “Dark Horse” by Katy Perry blare across the PA speakers. Bridgette’s head whips up and she surveys the crowd. She strikes a sexy Beyoncé-like pose, her hips bouncing upward like a marionette puppet. As Katy begins to sing, Bridgette twirls, bends, leaps and dances her way toward further stardom. As graceful as a ballerina and as sexy as a Las Vegas showgirl, Bridgette moves with the fluidity of a professional dancer in the body of a powerful bodybuilder. Nobody in the room could blink.

Sean could not look away as Bridgette dances to her heart’s delight. His heart skips a beat after she completes a seemingly endless series of Fouettés without stopping. Her 1080 degree spin in the air brings down the house. As Katy wraps up the song, it’s no mystery why Bridgette became an overnight sensation. She knows how to captivate an audience like no other performer in history.

The lights go down. Blackout. The lights come back up. There she is. Bridgette takes a step forward and bows. Then, bedlam. Total bedlam. Everyone in the audience expresses their unanimous approval by giving her an enthusiastic standing ovation. Including Sean. Hoots, hollers, endless applause and shouts of admiration fill the room. Bridgette takes it all in and waves to her adoring fans. She struts off the stage with her captivated audience begging for more. But, like an expert tease, she denies them any further engagement.

Holland Canter showing off her impressive biceps. Can I touch?

The rest of the evening went downhill from there. Sean reluctantly watched group after group of male and female bodybuilders stand up on stage, pose for what seemed like forever, and walk off looking smug and annoyingly arrogant. This went on for what felt like a week. While many of the competitors looked great (a few of the female contestants made his heart flutter), none of them could compare with Bridgette. None. This assessment made him yearn to be with her even more. Sean could do nothing but look at his phone and count down the minutes until he could see her again.

Throughout his entire life, Sean never felt comfortable in large crowds. He isn’t claustrophobic, but he prefers more intimate settings versus public spaces. The smell of spray tan, sweat and cheap whiskey didn’t help, though.

As if the show wasn’t bad enough, the party afterward was far worse. Within minutes of the competition coming to an end (and the winners being called back on stage for group photos), almost everyone in attendance shifted away from the auditorium and crammed themselves in a (relatively) small ballroom across the hotel lobby. The massive number of people, combined with terribly loud music, assaulted Sean’s senses. It was nearing 10 p.m. and Sean already wanted some alone time with Bridgette. He wanted to compliment her on her crowd-pleasing stage performance. He wanted to hold her, kiss her and find an excuse to make love to her. He wanted her so badly he could scream.

He stood at one corner of the ballroom, next to the drink bar, and watched Bridgette from a distance. There she is, talking, laughing and networking with bodybuilding celebrities, media types and corporate sponsors. Everyone seems enthralled with her. Hardly anybody cared to speak to any of the actual winners from the evening’s competition.

Minutes pass by. Sean continues to sip on his vodka and tonic while he watches countless people dance, mingle and flirt the night away. The irony being, of course, even though Sean is surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of people, he feels lonely. All he wants is to be with Bridgette. Is that too much to ask?

“Fuck this,” Sean mutters under his breath. He sees out of the corner of his eye a large screen door leading to a balcony outside. He decides to check it out so he could get some fresh air.

Meanwhile, Bridgette pauses from some innocuous conversation she’s having with a horde of bodybuilding fans to watch Sean leave the room. She thinks of an excuse to leave this discussion circle so she could go talk to him. She intuitively senses his loneliness. As she struggles to navigate through the crowd, Sean steps outside onto the long balcony and sighs with relief.

Finally, he could breathe. If he had to endure one more minute of that hot, smelly, mayhem-filled room, he might pass out and need CPR to be resuscitated. The cool evening air is refreshing. The long outside balcony offers him a little peace and quiet from the sea of humanity congregating inside. He could finally be alone for a few moments.

He doesn’t expect Bridgette to come out and visit him. She’s too busy schmoozing with the movers and shakers of the bodybuilding industry. She’s preoccupied with enjoying her newfound celebrity status. She needs to build her brand and do whatever she can to become the international superstar she deserves to be.

Moments pass, and a few other people start to wander outside as well. Drinks in hand, one guy (who looks to be a professional bodybuilder himself) is talking to someone on his cell phone. An older lady, who clearly is not a bodybuilder, has a martini in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. They pay no attention to Sean. He prefers it stays that way. Eventually, both of them leave and Sean is left alone once again. He has only himself and his thoughts. He takes out his phone and checks the time. 10:45 p.m. The night is still young. Anything can happen.

Indeed, something does happen. A familiar voice, one that Sean has grown accustomed to, breaks the silence.

“Hey there, stranger. Not a big fan of crowds?”

Sean turns around and knows exactly who it is. It’s Bridgette. Also with a drink in hand (from the looks of it, a Long Island Ice Tea would be his guess), she looks as radiant as ever. Sweaty and still looking gorgeous, Sean notices some of her makeup has smeared across her flawless face. He doesn’t mind. The image of Bridgette looking a little rough around the edges starts to turn him on.

Who's in the mood for a gin and tonic? — Who’s in the mood for a gin and tonic?

“You’re here. With me. Shouldn’t you be with your adoring fans?” Bridgette and Sean share a brief kiss. He quickly looks around to see if anyone is watching them. She doesn’t seem as concerned.

“I need to take a break from those people. You can only hang out with egocentric bodybuilders and media vultures for only so long,” Bridgette says. “I want to keep my sanity, if you get my drift.”

“Yeah, I understand. Totally. I don’t like crowds of people. It makes me uncomfortable. But you seem to enjoy it,” Sean replies.

“To tell you the truth, I actually do like it. I love working a crowd. I love entertaining them. Enthralling them. I love it when people watch me. I guess I’m a voyeur’s dream come true.” She takes a sip of her cocktail and leans over the cedar wood railing of the balcony. Sean peers out into the city landscape and takes in how beautiful Seattle looks at night.

“Says the porn star. Didn’t you once have sex with some random Asian dude on camera?” Sean teases. Bridgette throws back her head and laughs.

“Yes, I believe I actually once did that! And, correct me if I’m wrong, didn’t that video go viral overnight and put me on the international porn map?”

“More like mainstream map. Everyone across the world knows who you are now. You’re practically a household name. That is, households who are comfortable talking about porn.” A cool breeze flows by, lifting Bridgette’s impeccable blonde hair over her shoulders. It wasn’t chilly outside, but both Bridgette and Sean could feel that wind pick up.

“God, that was so risky. You could’ve been anyone. Thank God you were as sweet and kind as I thought you would be.” Bridgette leans over and kisses Sean again. This time, they hold their lips together for a longer time than usual, wanting to savor this beautiful moment for as long as possible. By now, they don’t care if anyone catches them being intimate together. They want to share this kiss as if it were the last kiss they would ever experience together.

Susanna Tirpak is the perfect combination of beauty, femininity and muscularity. Agreed?

“Thank you, Bridgette. Thank you. I’m glad you’re equally sweet and kind. You’re not just a pretty face with big muscles. You’re so much more than that.” Bridgette puts down her drink and takes one step closer to him. He could feel the heat of her body emanating out of every pore. She touches his face and rubs her strong thighs against his.

“I know I’m much more than that. But you’re right. I’m a risk-taker. I love being naughty. I love doing things impulsively. I suppose you could call it a weakness of mine.” Sean feels her biceps while looking into her pretty blue eyes. She smiles, blushing at the sincerity of his gentle touch.

“A weakness? I was under the impression there wasn’t a single weak part about you.”

“You’re way to flattering of me, Sean! I can be very impulsive at times.” Going in for the kill, Sean leans forward and whispers into Bridgette’s ear.

“Are you feeling impulsive right now?” He slaps her on the butt, causing her to gasp audibly. Feeling defensive at first at his sudden spanking of her, Bridgette then realizes what just happened. He wants to fuck her. Right here. Right now.

“Hell yes, I feel impulsive right now, you dirty boy. Come here!” Forsaking all of her inhibitions, she grabs Sean’s head and kisses him again, biting his lower lip in the process. She didn’t break the skin, but she’s damn close. Sean eyes a small glass table sitting off to the side. He clutches her hips and guides her toward it. She gets the idea. Bridgette lifts her dress up and exposes her bare feminine parts to him. She then sits on top of the table and spreads her legs as wide as she could without ripping her expensive dress. Sean unzips his pants and pulls out his penis. It’s already engorged and ready for her.

They share a brief moment of eye contact, but immediately decide to cut to the chase. Sean reaches down and feels her dripping wet vagina. He pinches her long, thick clitoris, which makes her throw her head back and moan out loud. After kissing her neck and breasts, Sean positions his penis at her moist entrance and enters her without hesitation. They both groan loudly at their intimate joining.

“I want it like this, Sean. This is how I want it. Now fuck me until I beg you to stop!” Bridgette commands. She wraps her long, powerful legs around Sean’s waist, which only allows him to penetrate her deeper. What thrills them both is the knowledge that at any moment, someone could walk in on them. Someone could also spot them from the ground or witness them in action from a nearby building. Out in the open, for the entire world to watch, Bridgette and Sean make love with an urgency neither one of them could explain.

Sean pumps into her as she unbuttons his shirt and kisses his chest. He tries to wrap his arms around her, but Bridgette’s thick torso makes that almost impossible. He’s surprised she hasn’t busted out of her dress yet. How the dress’s fabric could contain her muscular body is a complete mystery to him.

“I’ve wanted to do this, to be with you like this, for a long time, Bridgette baby. Ever since that beautiful night, darling,” Sean quietly says. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a small crowd gather around the balcony entrance. Eight or nine people. Bridgette notices a couple of people on the ground stop what they’re doing and look up to see them. One woman even pulls out her phone and starts recording them in action. Being an irresponsible voyeur, Bridgette doesn’t care they’re drawing an impromptu audience. In fact, she welcomes it. Sean isn’t quite so sure. He wants to make love to her without stopping. If complete strangers are there to witness it, so be it.

Sweat dripping down their faces, Sean slides in and out of her rhythmically. Bridgette deep kisses him and tightens her legs around him. Sean feels his back crack. A flash of someone’s camera phone goes off. But this only empowers them to make love more furious than ever before. Bridgette gasps as Sean’s manhood penetrates her as deep as it can go. She can sense that he’s close to the edge. She squeezes her vagina around him out of sheer selfishness of wanting to milk as much pleasure out of him as possible.

Sean pumps once more into Bridgette, whispering something inaudible in her ear. He can’t remember what he said to her. She couldn’t quite understand what it was either. But that one last thrust into her body makes him come hard. He empties himself into her recklessly with a curiously voyeuristic audience watching them. Bridgette releases her vagina around his manhood, which leads to her coming as well.

Their heavy breathing intensifies as Sean and Bridgette’s orgasmic waves come to a slow end. Still as hard as a rock inside her, they share a long, passionate kiss, much to the pleasure of the people around them. Applause and shouts of encouragement pour from all directions. But the two lovers couldn’t hear them. They only cared for each other. This moment belongs to them, nobody else.

Eventually, the crowd scatters away. Sean pulls out of Bridgette and zips his pants back up. Bridgette scoots off the table and wipes dirt off her dress. A professional photographer, who happened to capture some video of their coupling, asks for permission to publish this footage on his website. Bridgette and Sean unconditionally say “yes.” To hell with what the world thinks. Bridgette and Sean are the Universe’s newest power couple…and they want everyone to know it.

“I’ll see you later, in my room,” Bridgette says.

“Yes. Later. I’ll be waiting for you outside your hotel. Take as long as you like, darling,” Sean says.

They share one last kiss. Bridgette saunters back indoors to the rowdy party. Sean remains on the balcony, staring at her walk away, without a care in the world.

My Top 10 Favorite Female Bodybuilders

The future of the sport of bodybuilding: Shannon Courtney.

Since the subject of female bodybuilders is of keen interest of this blog, I figure it’s about time I created a list of my favorite FBBs and why I like them.

After all, isn’t it conventional wisdom that “top 10 lists” are prime ways to score high clicks and search engine optimization strength?

Of course, these rankings are purely unscientific and bear no resemblance to actual truth. It’s not like I’ve seen photos of every single female bodybuilder on the planet and can rank them with the knowledge of a seasoned connoisseur. Even if I did, I still couldn’t give you specific quantifiable criteria as to why I chose to rank a certain lady over another.

When coming up with my list, I sincerely struggled. I wanted to mention at least 20 or 30 of these women, but I had to only narrow it down to my top 10 because…well, because I said so. I make the rules, so I should follow them, am I right?

I’ve also discovered that my top 10 list of favorite female bodybuilders changes as I discover new ones. One woman in particular, who’s listed as number five, is one I’ve discovered fairly recently, perhaps in the past six or seven months. Naturally, she had to boot someone off, which is no slight to that unfortunate soul. It’s not about you. It’s about her. Yes, I’ll stick to that excuse for now.

Enough of that. Let’s get to the good stuff. So, without further ado, here is a list of my top ten favorite female bodybuilders, starting with the bottom and going up.

10. Karen Zaremba

Karen Zaremba holds a special place in my heart. She was one of the first muscle women who caught my eye when I first discovered my attraction to female bodybuilders.

Though more of a figure competitor than a hardcore bodybuilder, Karen is the full package: Beautiful, toned muscles and alluringly sexy. What more could you ask for?

Ms. Zaremba is the kind of woman who can steal your breath away in a heartbeat. She could also stop your heart from beating as well. If she’s wearing baggy clothes, she might not appear to be that big, but when she’s wearing something skimpier there’s no doubt she can turn heads left and right.

I think I first stumbled across Karen sometime early in my college years. I could not believe my eyes when I first saw photos of this amazing woman. How could a 40-something mother of multiple children look THAT AMAZING? What makes her even more incredible is that she doesn’t depend on extensive cosmetic surgeries or caking on layers of makeup to look beautiful.

She’s a natural beauty, no doubt about it.

My guess is she’s either fully or partially retired from bodybuilding. Nevertheless Ms. Zaremba will always be one of my favorites. She deserves a “Favorite Female Bodybuilder Emeritus” trophy. She’s the elder stateswoman you know isn’t “active” any more but deserves an honorable mention. You never forget (one of) your first(s), am I right?

May I touch Debi Laszewski's arms? — May I touch Debi Laszewski’s arms?

9. Debi Laszewski

As a bona fide bodybuilding superstar, Debi Laszewski is one of the most well-known stars in the sport today. Ms. Laszewski’s incredible muscularity is only matched by her physical beauty and charming personality. She’s incredibly motivated to be the best in the business and you can certainly see her drive and determination come out in her interviews. If you want somebody to be the ambassador of the sport to the general public, Debi is more than fit for the job.

Of course, I’ve never met her (or any of these women, for that matter), but she seems to be very genuine, down-to-earth, and more interested in lifting other people up rather than tearing them down. In a cutthroat business like competitive athletics, I’d guess that sort of attitude isn’t as common as it should. For me, personality matters.

So does her body. Her body is incredible. Her blonde locks of hair combined with her bulky frame make her seem superhuman. How can one person be that beautiful? How can one person be that perfect? This almost makes me question why Debi is number nine of my rankings and not down further. I may have to adjust this list somewhere down the road.

Who can resist the rich Italian looks of Deidre Pagnanelli?

8. Deidre Pagnanelli

If you don’t know who Deidre Pagnanelli is, stop whatever you’re doing immediately and do a Google search of her as soon as possible. Deidre’s greatest asset – and she has a long list of them – is without a doubt her beauty. Ms. Pagnanelli is a classic beauty of the vintage Hollywood variety.

Part Sophia Loren and part Monica Bellucci, she’s comparable with those legendary Italian beauties on every level: femininity, pure beauty, gracefulness, mysteriousness, sensuality, and on and on and on.

And know what? She’s in her 40s and is a mother of four kids. Yes, you heard that right. This is no joke. She is a middle aged woman with four children who have emerged from her body. Now, there’s a certain popular acronym that’s used to describe women like this, but I refuse to use it. That would be disrespectful to her. It’s vulgar, partially sexist and cheapens who she is. Deidre Pagnanelli is more than just a woman who looks incredible at this stage of her life. She’s a personal trainer, motivator and athlete who should be treated like a Goddess.

She is someone who stops you dead in your tracks. She’s the type who can redefine how you feel about muscular women. To be fair, she’s not as muscular as a pro-level bodybuilder, but her physique should not disappoint anyone. She shatters all stereotypes about muscular women being gross. She commands the room. Once you learn who she is, there’s no way you can get her out of your mind.

I remember when I first came across Ms. Pagnanelli on the Internet. My pulse raced. My eyes were as big as dinner plates. My jaw probably fell to the floor. I could not believe she was real. Is she an actual person or a comic book hero created by a female muscle-loving illustrator?

Nope. She’s real. Very real. And we should all be thankful for that.

How did I not realize Emery Miller's beauty right off the bat? — How did I not realize Emery Miller’s beauty right off the bat?

7. Emery Miller

There are some women in this world whose beauty doesn’t hit you right away. You need to let them grow on you. Emery Miller is one of those women.

I didn’t fall in love with her right off the bat. It took me a while to warm up to her. But once I did, I never looked back. When I first came across her, I figured she was just another cute blonde FBB. But after watching interviews of her and some of her more “adult entertainment” oriented videos, my thinking about her changed. She became a joyfully sexy woman with a level of sexual intelligence that is so extraordinarily appealing.

Emery’s beauty is more on par with the “girl next door” category. She’s pretty, but not too pretty. She’s that really cute girl you knew in high school whom you ignored but years later you regretted it once you realized how awesome she is. That’s Emery Miller. You kick yourself for not realizing how amazing of a woman she is until it finally hits you over the head like a frying pan.

She’s also a very intelligent woman. Underneath her sexy smile lies someone with an equally sexy brain. I don’t know why I feel this way, but I do. There are certain people you meet you who know are special even though you can’t exactly describe why. Emery Miller wouldn’t have made this list a year ago, but she certain does now. I sure am glad I finally saw the light.

6. Angela Salvagno

Out of every pore of her body, Angela Salvagno drips with sexiness. She’s a little rough around the edges but possesses a level of sensual intrigue that leaves you wanting more. And without a doubt, I want more!

Other than her rich Mediterranean looks, Ms. Salvagno is striking for one other reason: her beautiful genitalia. Large clitoris, luscious labia and a pretty pink vagina that seems oh so ready for loving, Ms. Salvagno is a wonder of Mother Nature between her strong legs. Many of you may think it’s rather strange for me to remember her for her genitalia, but that’s just the kind of guy I am.

I discovered Angie through her work in porn. She’s not afraid to masturbate for the camera, that’s for damn sure. She’s proud of her body, isn’t ashamed of a single inch of it, and doesn’t need permission to please herself to her heart’s delight. There’s a lot to like about that kind of attitude. She doesn’t have the salient beauty of Deidre Pagnanelli or the insane muscular development of Debi Laszewski, but she doesn’t have to in order for me to notice her. She oozes with sex. It radiates out of every square centimeter of her being. You can practically feel the heat rising from her body when she performs for the camera. It’s tangible. It’s palpable. It’s very, very erotic.

In addition, Ms. Salvagno also has a little bite to her. She isn’t a “Miss Nice Girl” by any stretch of the imagination. Whether she’s wearing an eye-popping BDSM outfit or wrestling a hapless opponent into total submission, Angie can kick your ass if you’re not careful. There’s something undeniably sexy about that. To be truthful, every single woman on this list could probably manhandle you if you push them to their limits, but Angie is someone you genuinely don’t want to mess with. She’s not dangerous, but she can be if you want her to be.

God help us all if you ever make her angry!

It must be the eyes of Lindsay Mulinazzi that's so hypnotic. — It must be the eyes of Lindsay Mulinazzi that’s so hypnotic.

5. Lindsay Mulinazzi

It must be her green eyes. That has to be it. They’re so captivating. I swear her eyes could hypnotize me and force me to jump off a bridge. I’d be in a trance so powerful I’d empty my bank account in an instant if called upon to do so by her. And you know what? I probably wouldn’t complain too much. I’d accept it as the cost of admiring Lindsay Mulinazzi’s immaculate body.

But not just her body, but her entire self. Everything about Ms. Mulinazzi intrigues me.

Lindsay Mulinazzi has an air of mystery about her. She has so much going in below the surface that none of us will ever know about. Is she sweet or sexy? Is she naughty or nice? Is she a Good Girl or a Bad Girl? She’s probably all of those things. All at once. Yeah…she’s that multifaceted.

Ms. Mulinazzi’s looks are exotic. She’s the type of woman a sophisticated gentleman would appreciate. She’s like a glass of Henri Jayer Richebourg Grand Cru, Cote de Nuits, France served with filet mignon, grilled asparagus, pâté de foie gras and rich buttery mashed potatoes (that bottle of wine, apparently, is one of the most expensive in the world). She’s a treasure. She’s for sophisticated tastes only. I realize it’s rather odd to think of a female bodybuilder as being “high class,” but Lindsay fits the description perfectly. Savor her like she deserves to be savored. I can guarantee you would not be disappointed.

4. Denise Masino

For a woman with a gorgeous face, mouthwatering figure and fun, sexy personality, Denise Masino is most famous for another one of her assets.

Her world famous clitoris.

It looks like a pastrami sandwich. Maybe not the most refined analogy, but anyone who’s seen it would have to admit it’s not a terrible comparison. Think it’s strange for us to be so fixated on someone’s genitalia? It is, but rest assured what’s situated between her legs isn’t the only thing I love about her.

Like other women on this list, Denise Masino is an exceptionally intelligent woman whose business savvy is second to none in the industry. She understands her appeal and isn’t afraid to take advantage of it for her own benefit (and ours!). Her large clitoris isn’t a point of embarrassment. It empowers her to make her irresistible to adoring fans worldwide. She’s sexy and she knows how to market herself. She may not be a mainstream Hollywood celebrity, but among female muscle fans across the universe, Ms. Masino is as big as Marilyn Monroe ever was.

She embraces her sexuality in ways many of her peers do not. True, many FBBs will star in sexy videos from time to time, but Denise seems to thoroughly enjoy it. Many female athletes struggle with balancing being an athlete and a (often times reluctant) sex symbol. Denise, however, appears to have embraced her role as a sexually-charged woman who has no problem being both physically powerful and erotic at the same time.

I could go on for days praising Ms. Masino, but I will leave you with one thought: When you first think of Denise, her muscles aren’t necessarily the first thing that comes to mind. You think about her beautiful clit, her gorgeous face, smarts, sexiness and shrewdness first. Her muscles, while undoubtedly attractive in their own right, seem to be almost an afterthought. This demonstrates the depth of her appeal. Denise is a one-of-a-kind. There may never be another one like her. For that, we must treasure her while we can.

Lisa Cross, a.k.a. "The British Bombshell." — Lisa Cross, a.k.a. “The British Bombshell.”

3. Lisa Cross

World class female bodybuilder. Author. Part-time dominatrix. International superstar. Perhaps one of the most beautiful women on the planet.

Who could I possibly be describing? Lisa Cross, of course.

Ms. Cross, a.k.a. “The British Bombshell,” captivates your attention. That’s what really sticks with you when you first come across her. Your attention immediately goes to her and no one else. She looks dangerous. She looks intriguing. She’s unique from other female bodybuilders. There’s something about her that sets her apart from her fellow muscle sisters. Once you’re introduced to Lisa, you keep wanting more and more.

Lisa has almost the perfect combination of size, beauty, intelligence, femininity and mysteriousness. She’s exactly what you’d expect a female bodybuilder to be like, yet she’s always surprising you in one way or another.

For example, have you ever read her book Devil and Disciple: The Temptation? I have. While it has a few flaws you often see in new authors, overall it’s a strong book with a compelling story, well-crafted characters and intelligent poetic prose. As far as I can tell, she wrote the book all by herself. Her editor, of course, obviously had his or her input during the creative process, but fitting in writing a book (without a ghost writer) with an already jammed pack schedule of being a professional bodybuilder is nothing short of impressive. How many athletes could say they’ve written such a piece of art?

Lisa Cross is one of my favorites because you keep wanting more from her. She makes you pay attention to her. Not because she forces herself upon you, but because you can’t help but keep on coming back. She’s enthralling because she’s so multifaceted. She’s a beautiful and intelligent woman who’s overcome a lot of obstacles to get to be where she’s at right now. Her success wasn’t handed to her. She earned it with her hard work, dedication and relentless spirit. And she finds time to be creative, personable, confidently sexy and a much-needed ambassador of the sport to the general public.

Hats off to you, Ms. Cross!

Don't cross Victoria Dominguez. You'll regret it! — Don’t cross Victoria Dominguez. You’ll regret it!

2. Victoria Dominguez

Haters gonna hate. She might not be on everyone’s top 10 list (or even top 50 list), but I don’t care. I genuinely don’t care what anybody else says. Victoria Dominguez is one of the sexiest women in the known universe.

She might not have a traditionally beautiful face, but that doesn’t matter to me. Vicky has plenty of attitude, erotic appeal, confidence, intrigue and curves in places most women don’t have curves to make up for it. Know what? I actually think her face is quite beautiful. Don’t agree with me? I really don’t care.

Vicky’s strength as a female bodybuilder is her raw sexual power. Her alter ego, Mistress Treasure, is a true dominatrix in every sense of the word. She’s a scary lady to be around when she’s in her full “Mistress” mode. Don’t ever cross her. EVER.

More than any other FBB out there, Vicky has a level of confidence in herself that borders on cocky. But the truth is, when you’re as ripped and gorgeous as her, you have every right to be as arrogant as you want. She expects cleanliness, respect and adherence to her rules when she’s meeting with her session clients. And do you know what? She deserves every ounce of respect and reverence possible from them. They are the weaker sex, after all.

Ms. Dominguez doesn’t appeal to everyone. But that’s perfectly okay. I love Vicky because she is a powerful, authoritative woman who isn’t afraid to kick your ass if you get out of line. Her intimidating presence, combined with muscular definition that I could explore for days, makes her peerless. She has curves on top of curves embedded within more curves. She’s a beautiful black woman who’s exotic, unapologetically rough and flaunts her sexual prowess whether you like it or not.

Whew. What’s not to like about that? But sadly, not everyone is willing to jump on the Victoria Dominguez bandwagon. For those of you who think her facial features are off-putting or that her persona is too abrasive for your tastes, all I got to say is that haters gonna hate!

Alina Popa is number one! She's number one! She's number one! Whoooooo!!!! — Alina Popa is number one! She’s number one! She’s number one! Whoooooo!!!!

1. Alina Popa

Oh, Alina. You know how to charm a man like me.

Some guys really love a woman with an accent. If you do, then Alina Popa is the lady for you.

Ranking at number one, Alina Popa boasts the impeccable combination of brawn and beauty. Born and raised in Romania, Ms. Popa currently lives in the United States. Those of us in America who love muscular women couldn’t be happier. Welcome to the U.S. of A, Alina!

Alina’s charms come in many forms. First, she seems like a very sweet and kind-hearted person. It’s hard to argue with that, right? Second, she had to overcome her family’s disapproval of her dreams of pursuing bodybuilding. Apparently her mother wanted a “normal” looking daughter instead of what Alina chose to become. Fortunately, she’s warmed up to Alina’s bodybuilding career and right now is her most passionate cheerleader.

Perhaps more than any other female bodybuilder on the planet, Alina strikes the perfect balance between superhuman muscularity and undeniable femininity. If you’ve ever seen her interviewed, she’s very fun, outgoing, irresistibly sexy and unquestionably feminine. She’s unintimidating. She isn’t the type who will try to emasculate you or show off her impressive strength out of sheer narcissism.

Alina Popa may not be my hands-down favorite FBB, but after careful thought, I really have no reason not to put her as number one on my list. If I created a checklist of every quality I value in an FBB, she would score high marks on every single one of them. That counts for something. Alina is like that world class athlete who may not be your personal favorite, but you cannot deny their greatness. They’re the G.O.A.T. (Greatest of All Time) while the rest are mere mortals.

I’m also glad Alina hasn’t gotten breast implants yet (as far as I know). Her natural look makes her all the more incredible. She’s like a comic book hero…except she’s real. I don’t know her personally, but she seems to be as authentic of a person as you’ll ever meet. Celebrity status has a way of destroying that facet of your personality. From what I can tell, being an internationally renowned state-of-the-art female bodybuilder has not diminished that part of her one bit.

***

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

I can’t list everybody, but here are five more FBBs who deserve Honorable Mentions.

Shannon Courtney – A newcomer on the world stage, Shannon is a rising star in the bodybuilding industry. She’s young, gorgeous, unbelievably muscular (especially for someone her age) and belongs to the millennial generation – who, for better or for worse, is the future of our world. How lucky we are if Miss Courtney is the future of the sport.

Lynn McCrossin – a.k.a “PecPanther,” Ms. McCrossin’s pecs are not her only noteworthy asset. She’s a bona fide muscular porn star who definitely isn’t afraid to strut her stuff in front of the camera. Lynn may call herself a panther instead of a cougar, but after watching enough of her videos you should get the idea about what she’s into.

Dena Westerfield – Perhaps the poster child for the “natural” look, Dr. Dena Westerfield is legendary for, among other things, her flat chest. She’s as beautiful as she is smart, but her choice to flaunt her body – despite her nonexistent breasts – turns me on like nothing else. Dena is a gem.

Krissy Chin – Finally, an Asian lady! Miss Chin’s petite Asian figure makes her tight muscular body all the more alluring. How can you not want to cuddle up with her on a cold winter evening and stroke her six pack abs over a mug of hot chocolate? She has the figure of a fitness competitor more than a bodybuilder, but that doesn’t matter. Krissy is as cute as a button but feisty if she has to be.

Yvette Bova – If there’s anyone who deserves the “Porn Star” label in all capital letters, Yvette would get that distinct honor. Probably the most sexually dynamic woman on this list, Yvette isn’t for all tastes. But if you really love her, you know why. She brings “sexual liberation” to a whole new level. Yvette doesn’t lack confidence or sexual experience. That combination is dangerous to guys like me!

Ethereal Beauty: A Rational Explanation to Why Female Bodybuilders Seem Otherworldly

Andrea Giacomi showing off her gorgeous legs.

Anybody who has ever been in the presence of a muscular woman, either in an intimate or public setting, knows the ethereal feeling that inevitably summons inside you.

They’re otherworldly. They’re angelic. They’re supernatural spiritual beings who defy conventional description. When you see (or have the privilege of physically touching) a muscular woman with your very own eyes, you know this experience is vastly different than being in the presence of any other attractive human being.

This feeling isn’t limited to being physically present with a female bodybuilder, athlete or fitness enthusiast. Looking at pictures of them, watching their videos, or reading about them can also conjure up this reaction. But it’s most pronounced when you get to witness up-close-and-personal a muscular woman in the flesh.

What kind of “reaction” are we talking about exactly? Consider the following:

You’re minding your own business one fine day. It’s a warm spring Saturday afternoon and you’re outside running some casual errands. Shopping for dinner, buying a birthday present for your mother, or just going out for some good old fashioned exercise; it doesn’t matter why you’re out and about.

You’re walking down a busy street. Thousands of people are milling around, minding their own business. It’s a sea of humanity. Cars, pedestrians, people taking public transportation…there are men, women and children everywhere. You’re instantly reminded of how large this world can be. Thousands of souls, each with their own personal lives and unique histories.

As you turn the corner to head to your favorite retail store, something catches your eye. You see the figure of a person walking straight toward you. It must be at least 30 yards away. Despite being surrounded by countless bodies, all milling about their own business, this one particular figure catches your eye. You take a closer look and you see why.

It’s a woman. A beautiful woman. But not just any other type of beautiful woman. She’s special. What’s remarkable about her appearance isn’t her gorgeous face, flawless hair, powerful feminine charms, impeccable fashion choices or her graceful gait. It’s something else entirely.

Her muscles.

You can clearly see her muscles as she walks closer and closer to you. Broad shoulders, bulky chest, pumped biceps, a ripped six pack abdomen, long tree trunk legs and a rounded butt that nearly makes you pass out unconscious, you know right off the bat that she has to be a competitive bodybuilder. There’s no way someone who casually goes to the gym and lifts could look that incredible. She’s a one in a million and everybody surrounding her knows it.

She walks right past you without taking a single moment to acknowledge your existence. You turn your head to follow her and you run right into a telephone pole. Normally you’d feel foolish to make such a gaffe in public, but you’re so captivated by this woman that none of that matters. You get up off the ground and follow her. You don’t know where she’s going, but you know you have to follow her. You completely forget where you’re supposed to be going. Your plans have just changed. For the better.

You’d follow her to the ends of the earth. You want to know more about her. You want to learn about her life’s story. Why did she become a bodybuilder? What’s the lifestyle like? How many trophies has she won in her career? Is she dating anyone? Is she married? Does she have kids? Or, is she not into guys and prefers girls? Just show strong is she? Can she lift me? Can she push a truck with her bare hands? Can she knock me out cold with only one swift punch to the face?

Do we have any shot at being together?

You wake up and realize how ridiculous all of this sounds. She’s a complete stranger. She doesn’t know you. You don’t know her. She barely even saw you walk past her. She has bigger and better things to do right now. What are the odds that she’d even take two seconds out of her day to say “hi” to you, let alone spend the rest of her life with you? The self-embarrassment you feel from this delusional fantasy is enough to make you blush beet red.

But you can’t stop thinking about her. Even hours, days, weeks and months later, you still think about that brief moment when time seemed to stop and nothing else mattered but her. Only her. Your world became just about her. Are you crazy? How could someone whom you only saw (not touched, spoke to, or got to know) cast such a commanding spell over you? She almost doesn’t seem real. It’s as though she were just a figment of your imagination. A complete fantasy. A lovely daydream. A passing hallucination that’s here one moment and gone the next.

You know she’s real and your heart can’t stop beating to her drum. You sincerely believe she can’t be human. She has to be a creature from outer space. Or a robot created by a team of scientists who love the sport of female bodybuilding. Or an angel from God sent down to Earth to do His bidding.

Whoever she is, you can’t get her out of your mind. Not that you want to, though.

Even if you’ve never actually encountered a situation like that before, hopefully the general idea comes across. When you see, meet, or come in close proximity to a muscular woman, for many of us the experience borders on something mystical. Not to get too “woo-woo” or anything, but the point is that you know intuitively that meeting a beautiful muscular woman is a radically different experience than meeting any other kind of person.

This isn’t necessarily the case with all beautiful women. How many of us casually meet a beautiful person (regardless of your gender or sexual orientation) and come away thinking, “Wow! She’s smoking hot!” This person could be a man or woman, it doesn’t matter. Their good looks make you want to look at them and appreciate them. But that’s normally where it ends. You acknowledge their beauty, maybe think about what they’d look like naked or how they’d behave in the bedroom, and swiftly move on with your life. You may or may not even remember seeing them an hour later.

But a muscular woman is different. You can’t get those images out of your head no matter how hard you try. The shape of their bodies. The way they carry themselves. The potency of their physical prowess. You know they’re special, even if you can’t articulate why. You know being graced by her presence is something you’ll treasure for a lifetime.

It might be this way after you meet a female bodybuilder for a muscle worship session. You might get this reaction after attending a bodybuilding competition. Or going to the gym and seeing a woman lifting heavy weights. Or after watching a TV special about female bodybuilding or seeing a photograph of one in a magazine or sports website. Regardless of how you come across this particular female, you treat her with a level of awe and wonderment almost exclusively reserved for a deity.

Why is this exactly? Is there a logical explanation for this illogical reaction? What makes this particular type of human being feel so metaphysically different in such a real and tangible way? There may be a rational explanation.

1. Muscular women almost seem non-human

Even seeing it doesn’t make it real. She can’t be real. There’s no way in your mind that a muscular woman can possibly be human. Women, especially, are not supposed to be that big and bulky. They’re supposed to be small, frail and weak. Yes, these are pretty sexist attitudes, but stereotypes exist for a reason (even if those reasons are atrocious).

Guys can get that big because they have loads of testosterone. Women have some, but not nearly enough to get that muscular. Nature isn’t supposed to allow female bodybuilders to exist.

So when you meet a woman who defies all these conventional descriptions, your mind can’t properly process it. Women aren’t supposed to look like that! She’s not supposed to have more muscle mass than a man! Women are the weaker sex, right? How can this be?

This is why, in a strange way, muscular women seem almost non-human, as if they’re fictional cartoon characters or superheroes from a Hollywood blockbuster. Cyborgs from The Terminator movies can be big and buff because…well…they’re robots designed to look like that! They can go against social norms because they’re a product of science fiction storytelling.

Muscular women are human, of course. Which is why they seem so darn supernatural. You can see her muscles, but can you actually believe they’re actually there? You know she’s not an intergalactic space alien fashioned by someone’s active imagination. She’s a real human being just like anybody else. She’s no different from a so-called “normal” looking woman…only a lot stronger and with a lot more meat on her body.

This cognitive dissonance created by seeing a muscular woman explains why we (subconsciously) treat them like divine beings instead of people. Women aren’t intended to look like that, we might say. So when a woman does indeed look like that, there must be some divine explanation at play here. This is why whenever we’re caught staring mindlessly at a human female with muscles larger than most males who regularly lift at the gym, we treat this experience with celestial reverence.

Psychologically, we’re not capable of completely fathoming these contradictions. This explains why the mere presence of an FBB in the same room as you makes you act irrationally. Your eyes see it, but your mind cannot comprehend it.

2. When you’re in the presence of a muscular woman, you know you’re in the presence of Greatness

Relating to the previous point, in order for a woman to achieve such a high level of muscularity, you know she must make an inordinate amount of sacrifices to earn that physique. But it’s more than just sacrifices that make her great. It’s the results. And her results turn her into a superstar.

We feel awestruck by people whom we perceive to be Great. Not just good, but Great. It’s the same feeling you might have if you ever meet a Nobel Peace Prize winner, a Hall of Fame baseball player or an author whose writings have literally changed your life for the better. Meeting them is akin to meeting an illustrious spiritual leader. They’re Greatness in the flesh.

Just like being able to meet Michael Jordan or Muhammad Ali, it’s intoxicating to be in the presence of people who have achieved legendary status. You admire their accomplishments. You understand that what they did is so difficult that they have to be “made of stuff” that nobody else has. Greatness is a status reserved for only a select few.

G.O.A.T. Greatest of All Time.

A muscular woman is just like that. Because it’s so exceedingly difficult for a woman to achieve a high level of muscle mass, you know she had to go through extraordinary measures to get it. She had to be Great. Bodybuilding has to become her life, not just a passive hobby. Greatness is enthralling. It’s compelling. It’s majestic to witness.

3. Many muscular women are also celebrities

While not nearly enough of them are famous, there are a significant number of muscular women who have earned mainstream fame. Recently, athletes like Ronda Rousey and Venus and Serena Williams are nationally recognized for both their athletic achievements and their muscled physiques. While not bodybuilders, nevertheless these are women whom even casual sports fans should recognize.

There are some bodybuilders, like Bev Francis and Rachel McLish, who were (somewhat) household names at one point a few decades ago. Iris Kyle and Alina Popa may not be “true” celebrities, but if you pay close enough attention you definitely will know who they are.

Which brings up the obvious point: the celebrity status of muscular women is really just confined to those of us who love them. Ms. Popa, Ms. Kyle, and others like Yaxeni Oriquen-Garcia and Debi Laszewski may not be famous to the general populace, but they’re famous to people like us. We consider them celebrities. And just like how millions of teenage girls’ hearts flutter when they see members of One Direction live and in-person, we also have to fight against the urge to faint to the ground whenever we’re in the same vicinity of our favorite muscular ladies.

Their celebrity status adds a level of intrigue to them. Society, going back several centuries, has always deified celebrities. Celebrity worship is not a recent phenomenon. Medieval lords, members of royalty and charismatic social and religious leaders would be on the cover of People magazine if such a publication existed generations ago. We may not necessarily elevate celebrities like that in our own personal lives, but the intrigue stays the same. Are they like us? What do they do in their spare time? How can I be as awesome as them?

Some people adore pop singers. Others prefer movie stars. Lots of little kids look up to star football or basketball players. We, on the other hand, idolize female bodybuilders.

4. Generally speaking, muscular women are a rare type in our society

Whenever a commodity is rare, it becomes more valued. Call it the “Scarcity Principle.” Call it the dynamics of Supply and Demand. Whatever the explanation is, we all know that muscular women are prized because (unfortunately for the rest of us) there aren’t too many of them.

It’s sad, but a fact of life. Muscular women are rare. If half of all the women we encounter in our lives were as buff and beautiful as Lindsey Mulinazzi, we would all be remarkably happy campers. But alas, that is not the case. Ho hum.

Thus, because of the scarcity of muscular women in our everyday lives, whenever we do encounter one, our reactions proceed accordingly. We get shortness of breath. Our heartbeat increases. We can’t move, talk, or act normally. We treasure these once-in-a-lifetime experiences because, for all we know, they might actually be once-in-a-lifetime experiences.

Muscular women don’t just fall from the sky or grow on trees. They’re a rare breed. So we must treat them with veneration whenever we’re privileged to meet one.

5. More often than not, muscular women have that “It Factor”

You sort of have to be a little “off your rocker” to become a professional bodybuilder. Male or female, it doesn’t matter. Being a bodybuilder is a really weird thing to do. The diet, the workout schedule, the time, the sacrifices, the bizarre changes it brings to your body…all of it is exceptionally odd.

That being said, any woman who dedicates her life to developing such great levels of muscle mass has to have the “It Factor.” Simply put, the “It Factor” is when someone has a certain air or quality to them that’s dynamic yet unexplainable. Whether it’s charisma or having certain skills/abilities, the “It Factor” isn’t a label one can give one’s self. Only other people can hand that out.

It’s pretty fair to say that many FBBs have this “It Factor.” When they walk into a room, everybody becomes still and falls silent. All eyes become glued to her instantaneously. When she walks into a gym and starts to workout, nobody dares get in her way or asks her “how many sets do you have left?” You’d be a foolish mortal to do that. A commoner. A peasant. You let her control the room because she’s earned the right to control it.

A female bodybuilder, especially in the eyes of a female muscle fan, can essentially do whatever she wants and get away with it. This explains why some men will pay hundreds of their hard-earned dollars to participate in a muscle worship or BDSM session with her. It’s a lot of money, but it’s worth every penny.

Why, exactly? Simple. She’s got “It.”

6. Muscular women are beautiful in ways that cannot be put into words

Lastly, muscular women are beautiful in ways that none of us can describe. For all the reasons stated previously, their Ethereal Beauty goes beyond the physical. A blind person who can only feel a muscular woman’s body would know that what he or she is experiencing is unique. Even hearing someone describe a female bodybuilder being able to leg press 1,000 pounds is enough to make your pulse race and a chill run down your spine.

Their beauty is otherworldly because our worldview tends to be quite limited in terms of female beauty. Strict beauty standards leave very little room for body types that are brawny. Hopefully this will change, but in the meantime we’ll just have to accept that our points of view are not shared by a majority of us.

In short, we cannot help but feel the way we feel about female bodybuilders. It’s instinctive. It’s a gut reaction that we cannot control nor do we desire to control. While there might be a completely rational explanation to why we become so irrational in our female muscle fandom, hardly anyone will ever complain about being introduced to this world. Loving muscular women isn’t something to be looked down upon. It’s something we should celebrate and embrace.

Women of all shapes, sizes and colors are beautiful. But muscular women are beautiful in a distinctive kind of way. We may not be able to describe how, but we know. We know our devotion to them may not make sense, but it feels so right. Our reactions to them may be irrational, but there’s a perfectly reasonable method to our madness.

Divine. Otherworldly. Angelic. Goddess. Heavenly. Celestial. Perfection. Beautiful.

Different words, but the same meaning. It all means the same thing.