Educating Jonathan – Part Two

A woman's bottom. A lovely sight, indeed.
A woman’s bottom. A lovely sight, indeed.

Jonathan loves the way she tastes. Subtle hints of expensive wine mixed with irresistible feminine prowess make for a concoction he cannot get enough of.

“God, make love to me, Jonathan. I need it,” she pleads with him. Samantha rolls on her back and spreads her legs wide, welcoming him to her. Her eyes never leaves his eyes.

His breathing becomes heavy. It’s apparent she’s kept her body in great shape. Long sleek legs, rounded butt, a flat tummy and curvy hips made her an aesthetic treat. Her small, slightly sagging breasts do not distract from her otherwise flawless beauty. Jonathan plans on enjoying every inch of her.

He takes her right nipple into his mouth. She gasps. He sucks hard, caressing his tongue over the sensitive tip. It stands up straight, hardened by Jonathan’s warm wet touch. He wraps his arms around her waist and embraces her tightly. He has no intention of letting her go.

Samantha looks up and closes her eyes, focusing all her attention on the pleasure her new lover is selflessly giving her. By now Jonathan has moved on to her other nipple, lapping it with his tongue languorously. She is thankful for this moment. She is thankful for him.

Her expression of her thanks inspires her to take matters into her own hands. She takes Jonathan’s erect penis into her hand and slowly strokes it up and down. He lets out a gentle moan that only she can hear. She strokes him harder. His mouth releases from her nipple and he kisses her.

“Do you want to end this before it starts?” he teases.

“Why? Are you really that close?” she teases back, fondling his scrotum with her fingertips.

Jonathan looks into her eyes and is captivated by her deep blue irises. Like a calming ocean, her eyes seem like they jump out of her body. Her fingers release from his manhood and they hold hands.

“I like you, Samantha. You’re so damn beautiful. Your skin is so soft. Your eyes are so…”

He pauses. She blushes.

“So what?” she asks.

“…so hypnotizing. It’s like you’re casting a spell on me.” He smiles wryly.

“Hypnotizing? I cast a spell on you? I like that. Are you like my own personal voodoo doll?” She extends a finger and outlines his jaw. Jonathan takes that finger into his mouth and sucks on it suggestively. In response, she groans and moans as if he were giving her an orgasm through her finger. Jonathan laughs, freeing her from his lips.

“You’re silly. Such a silly woman.”

She pauses. This time, he blushes.

“A silly woman? I’m a silly doctor. And don’t you forget it!” Samantha playfully nibbles on his shoulder.

Still not believing his good fortune, Jonathan takes a moment to reflect on this moment. How did he get so lucky to be here, engaging in fun foreplay with a gorgeous and intelligent woman like Dr. Sammy? It’s evident she needs this. It’s obvious she’s craving the touch of a man. She’s desperate to be desired.

And Jonathan is just the man to desire her.

“Enough. I want to make love to you,” he declares.

“Then…” she begins, kissing him on the cheek. “…let’s.”

As he reaches for a condom stuffed in his wallet, Samantha urgently grabs his hand.

“No. We don’t need it.” She looks at him earnestly, a sweet innocence glowing from her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m a woman of a certain age. We don’t need it. Come here, you!” Just like that, she straddles him and tosses Jonathan onto his back. Samantha reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp. The room darkens, but the moody glow remains. Outside, the full moon beams a bright stream of light into the bedroom. The rain continues to patter against the windows. He can still see her beautiful face.

Gorgeous downtown Seattle during the evening.
Gorgeous downtown Seattle during the evening.

“I love how trusting you are,” he says.

“Shut up.”

Samantha opens her legs and nudges them against his thighs. She lets out a deep breath. He does the same. They stare into each other’s eyes, realizing this perfect moment will never be this perfect again. They could never replicate the feelings they share at this time, when they are seconds away from joining their bodies in the most intimate way possible.

Jonathan nods. She interprets that as her cue.

It takes a few attempts, but eventually she lowers herself onto Jonathan’s manhood at the proper angle and successfully pushes his penis inside her. A primal moan escapes from them both, a shared moan that can only happen when two lovers are tuned into the moment. Samantha experiments with a few up and down thrusts as she rides him like a cowgirl. Jonathan reaches up and cups her breasts. Insecure about her small size and sagging shape, she tries to forget about her body and enjoy the moment. She’s not young, but she’s still got enough appeal as far as her current lover is concerned.

A groan leaves his throat as her motions grow in their intensity. He still cannot believe she doesn’t want him to wear protection. Is she that trusting of him? Jonathan didn’t think pregnancy would be an issue, but she hardly knows him. How could she possibly know what history he has with other women?

These thoughts exit his mind as they continue to make love. Samantha leans forward and kisses him passionately. She turned off the light partially because of her own insecurity, but also because making love in the dark – lit only by the moonlight – is so damn romantic. At heart, she’s a hopeless romantic. She hopes he is too.

“You feel so good, Samantha…so good.” Jonathan struggles to breathe between her incessant kisses and experiencing the pleasure she’s giving him.

“Thank you.” As she continues to ride him, she focuses on her own pleasure. He isn’t as big as her husband, but Jonathan feels…so right inside her. As if he was always meant to be inside her. As if this 5 and a half inch Asian penis was always meant to please her. In all her research about men’s penises, the conclusion she’s universally found was that a woman’s ability to achieve orgasm during penile-vaginal sex has less to do with the size of the man’s endowment and more about her state of mind. Right now, her state of mind couldn’t be better.

Their breathing gets louder. Samantha feels her orgasm reaching its peak. Jonathan’s hands are still feeling her breasts. Her small size doesn’t bother him. What right does he have to criticize the size of a person’s body part?

Her focus dissolves. His world blurs out of view. She is about to come. He is about to come. They both know the other is close.

“I love you, Jonathan.”

“I love you, Samantha.”

Such foolish declarations of love are enough to send both lovers over the edge. Samantha’s orgasm consumes her entire body from head to toe. The pulsating pleasure reverberates out from her vagina and throughout the entire room. Her muscles contract rhythmically, creating music from within her body. Jonathan also comes, carelessly emptying himself into her. He closes his eyes and indulges in the sensations his body is giving him. Samantha collapses on top of him and they kiss. Jonathan grabs her butt and pinches her right cheek. She gasps at this sudden action. She responds by tickling his scrotum as the last waves of his ejaculation subsides.

They remain still for what seems like an eternity. Neither speaks. Both breathe loudly. Samantha never wants this moment to end. Jonathan wonders how many more moments like this they will share together.

A beautiful white overcoat Dr. Sammy would have worn.
A beautiful white overcoat Dr. Sammy would have worn.

“That was fun,” Samantha whispers.

Jonathan is left speechless. She prefers it that way.

Several moments later Samantha gets up from the bed and walks to the bathroom. Jonathan can hear her pee. Still dazed from their lovemaking, he turns the bedside lamp back on and looks at the condom jammed in his wallet. He smiles, knowing this little piece of latex wouldn’t be used tonight.

The toilet flushes and minutes later Samantha returns to the bed. She lies down on her stomach and spreads her legs wide. Jonathan is amused that she has the nerve to take up all the room. He playfully pushes her legs off to the side.

“In the heat of the moment, we say some pretty imprudent things,” she observes.

“Are you referring to when we said we loved each other?”

“Yes. I don’t know what came over me. And I have no idea what came over you. Were you just being polite?”

“Polite? More like agreeable. I never want to ruin a good moment. And that was a great moment between the two of us.” Jonathan’s penis returns back to a smaller size. He strokes her naked back, hoping the act of caressing her beautiful body would bring him back in the mood. But for now, he’s perfectly content to massage her skin.

Moments pass. Neither lover has a single care in the world.

“Can I ask you a question, Jonathan?”

“Go ahead.” Jonathan looks at her beautiful face, memorizing every inch of her.

“What if I told you your penis was the greatest penis I’ve ever made love to?”

Wait…what?

Time stops. The Earth ceases to spin on its axis. Hell freezes over.

“Uh, what?” His concentration breaks. Jonathan sits up on the bed. A deep sigh escapes from her. Basking in the sensual glow of her two most recent climaxes, Samantha doesn’t know if what she’s talking about makes any sense. Jonathan doesn’t care. He likes what he’s hearing.

“What I mean is complicated. It’s not what you think,” she says. Jonathan strokes her back as she rolls over on her side. Her breathing calms. She doesn’t look at him but instead fixes her gaze outside the north-facing window.

Bondage. A preview of things to come?
Bondage. A preview of things to come?

“I’ve always admired Asian men. I find them fascinating. I think young men like you are fascinating. I’d love to follow you around for one day and find out everything about you. Do you ever feel oppressed in your everyday life?”

“Oppressed? Gosh, I don’t think so. People have always treated me well.”

Her focus remains on whatever is outside that window. She may be looking outside, but her mind is somewhere else.

“I’m glad to hear that. I really am.” Samantha turns over on her back and peers at her lover.

Jonathan cuddles closer to her and strokes her breasts, teasing her nipples. He leans over and they kiss. She reaches down and fondles his much-discussed penis. Initial feelings of arousal return, but he still needs time to recover from their previous coupling.

“Are you asking whether people make fun of my…penis?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I was getting at. Do people do that?”

“Some do. I’ve been hearing jokes about it since middle school. But what does that have to do with…?” He stops toying with her nipples and kisses her shoulders. Not really wanting to have this discussion right now, Jonathan is doing what he can to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“Oh. Well, I’m glad I was able to do this. I’m glad you were willing to invite me to your apartment tonight. I owe you.” Though she’s not making much sense, Jonathan politely remains silent and listens to her speak.

“This is going to sound weird. I know. But please bear with me for a moment. Have you ever heard of the concept of white guilt?”

“Yes. It’s when…white people feel bad about the crimes their ancestors committed against racial minorities in the past. Right?”

“Right, but it’s a little more complicated than that. But here’s the thing,” she sits up and leans against the bed’s headboard. “I too feel guilty. I feel guilty that our society desexualizes Asian men. I feel terrible that boys like you had to grow up hearing all those awful jokes. It makes me sad to think that the dominant white culture has to emasculate you like that for no apparent reason. Do you follow me?”

Hm. Jonathan certainly did not expect a sociology lesson to break out post-coitus. But he will continue to listen to her soliloquy.

“Yes, I follow you. Go on.”

“So this is my way of apologizing to you and other Asian men out there. I chose to come here for many reasons. You’re smart, handsome, well-spoken, studious and courteous. Not too many college-age men are like that to someone who’s willing to fuck them with no strings attached. But there’s another reason at play here. I feel…empowered to make love to you. It’s empowering to know that I’m giving you an opportunity not too many of your Asian brethren are granted. I feel like I’m making right a past injustice by allowing you to come inside me and give me your seed. Your seed liberates me.”

By now Jonathan is a little creeped out. What the hell is this lady talking about? “White Guilt” inspired her to come here and have sex with him? What the fuck?

“Listen, Samantha. This is a pretty strange thing to talk about. I mean, what we’re doing here has nothing to do with society, culture, history or anything like that. We’re just, you know, hooking up. That’s it, am I right?”

“Yes, you’re right to an extent. But there’s more at stake here. By making love to you, by allowing you inside my body, I’m redeeming myself. I’m turning racism on its ugly head and fucking it away. Like magic, you know?”

No, honestly Jonathan has no clue what the hell she’s talking about. Really, what is she trying to–

Samantha spontaneously leaps out from the bed and speed walks toward the front door. When she arrived at his apartment she came with a white overcoat and a black bag. She grabs the mysterious black bag and returns to bed. She sits down and unzips it. Jonathan tries to peer inside while appearing calm and indifferent at the same time.

This is what the mysterious black bag looks like. Intriguing, isn't it?
This is what the mysterious black bag looks like. Intriguing, isn’t it?

“So, Jonathan, I want to redeem myself further. I want to erase the racist crimes of the past committed by my white ancestors. Slavery, the genocide of the Native Americans, pogroms against the Jews, the capitalist exploitation of colored children in the developing world, the Japanese Internment, everything. I want to make right with the Universe. And you’re going to help me out with this, my love.” It appears she’s finally found what she’s looking for inside the bag. By now, Jonathan is officially creeped out. This lady has clearly gone psycho! She’s off her rocker. She’s gone off the deep end of the pool. She’s…

“Take this, Jonathan.”

Jonathan snaps out of his daze and turns to look at her. Samantha, with an eerie look in her eye, is holding a long black leather whip, handcuffs and rope. She hands the items to him. He has absolutely no idea how to react.

“I want you to punish me, Jonathan.”

Just like that, Dr. Sammy stands up and gets down on all fours on the floor. She sticks her butt up in the air facing his direction. Jonathan is utterly shocked and frozen. He cannot move, think or even come close to comprehending what’s going on.

“Punish me. Hard.”

Respecting Those We Lust After: The Sexual Objectification of Female Bodybuilders

Dina al-Sabah, the Muscle Goddess from Kuwait.
Dina al-Sabah, the Muscle Goddess from Kuwait.

I love female muscle.

That should be obvious to everyone. I really love strong women. I love the way they look. I love the giddy feelings they give me whenever I look at pictures of them. I love meeting them in person for muscle worship sessions. I love talking to them about their careers, their lifestyles and the sacrifices they’ve had to make to achieve their immaculate physique.

But there’s a problem here. A problem I feel compelled to address both honestly and openly.

Am I objectifying them?

It’s a fair question. Do I merely lust after these women instead of “admiring” them as world-class athletes? Is my attempt to intellectualize my respect for female bodybuilders just my way of hiding the fact that I really think of them as sex objects instead of human beings? Am I dehumanizing these women whenever I have lustful thoughts about them?

All fair questions. And all of them deserve to be discussed in detail. I’m a big proponent of open, productive dialogue. So let’s begin this discourse!

Of course, I’m biased (because I’m talking about myself), but I don’t believe I’m objectifying the very women I’ve spent the past few years writing about. But let’s first discuss semantics. What exactly does “objectify” mean?

According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, “objectify” means “to treat as an object or cause to have objective reality.”

Simply put, in regards to interpersonal relationships, it means when you treat a person not as a human being but as tool for your own personal benefit. In popular vernacular, “objectify” usually connotes sexual objectification. When someone treats another person as merely an object for their selfish sexual gratification, that person is objectifying the other. This is considered dehumanizing because you don’t care about their feelings, thoughts and/or point of view. You only care about what they have to offer you personally.

Countless books and academic dissertations have been written on the subject. I highly encourage you to read more about this if you’re truly interested.

But on the other hand, it’s perfectly normal to be sexually attracted to someone. Human beings have desires they cannot control. I didn’t choose to be smitten by the beauty of my high school crush. It just happened. Yes, I liked her for different reasons too (she was very smart and we came from similar cultural backgrounds), but her physical beauty was what initially attracted me to her. Everything else I liked about her I discovered later once we got to know each other.

The object of my desire, Monique Jones.
The object of my desire, Monique Jones.

The same goes for my love of female muscle. I love muscular women. I love the way they look. I think muscles on a feminine form is beautiful. Beautiful beyond words. Beyond description. I’ve written many essays discussing why I love female muscle and how psychologically impactful they’ve been on me. Many of my readers share this love with me. Just take a moment to read some of the comments on my articles.

But my love for female muscle isn’t just aesthetic. It’s also emotional. I think it’s brave to sculpt your body to a standard that completely contradicts what society at large preaches to us. I’m a strong believer in the social benefits of women lifting weights at the gym (there are also obvious health benefits too). I think our world would be a much better place for all of us if we encouraged the “strong is beautiful” mantra instead of “skinny is beautiful.” The latter has faced significant backlash in recent years. The former is just starting to emerge.

So, where does that leave us? How is it possible to humanize someone that I can only see from a distance?

I will admit that there is a fine line between objectifying a woman and being sexually attracted to her. Obviously, I will never actually meet most of the women I’ve come to love. I’ve only met three female bodybuilders in my life, all from participating in muscle worship sessions with them. So for me, it’s hard to get to know someone you simply…can’t ever get to know. Unlike my high school crush that I eventually mustered the courage to ask to the Homecoming dance during my senior year in high school, I will have virtually no chance of meeting and interacting with any of these FBBs.

But that’s not my only “way out.” I realize that an FBB is a human being, no different than you or I. I fully understand that a muscular woman doesn’t exist solely to satiate my own personal fetishes. Even the three FBBs I’ve had the pleasure of meeting I treated with the utmost respect. I tried to be kind. I apologized to one who had the misfortune of having a lot of cancellations before coming to Seattle. I know many of these women may not even like doing these sessions, but they do them because it gives them a consistent source of income. Travelling takes you away from your friends and family. It’s tough to financially support yourself when you’re involved in a career that isn’t terribly lucrative.

On a personal level, I recognize their humanity and never feel I am entitled to receive whatever I want from them. I hope other people who interact with FBBs do the same.

Dana Lynn Bailey is a living legend.
Dana Lynn Bailey is a living legend.

But don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to preach some “holier-than-thou” message and condemn anyone who made a mistake and treated a muscular woman with rudeness. That is not my intention at all. Rather, I’m just trying to wrap my mind around rationalizing my love for female muscle without falling into the trap of “objectifying” them.

Let’s put it this way: the concept of misogyny. Misogyny is “the hatred of women.” I am far from being a misogynist. But as any feminist critic will tell you, there is a long list of behaviors and attitudes that can be construed as “misogynistic.” Unfortunately, when discussing sexuality, gender relations and feminist theory in general, too often the discussion becomes a shouting match instead of a productive discussion. It’s easy to label men like us as misogynistic because of how much we lust after FBBs.

Is my love for female muscle linked to some deep-seeded hatred for women? Do I love them because they’re women who are more like men, whom obviously I believe are far superior? The answer to these questions is a resounding “NO!”

A great shot of Roberta Toth.
A great shot of Roberta Toth.

My love for muscular women has nothing to do with the fact their physique makes them “look like a man.” It’s easy to slam a person as “objectifying” a muscular woman when you don’t see the world from their perspective. If anything, we’re anti-misogynistic because we love these women for being empowered, powerful (both physically and mentally), determined, goal-oriented and not caring what the rest of the world thinks.

But I digress (boy, what a cliché!) This can be a little extreme. I don’t think too many people who criticize men who love strong women truly believe they actually hate them to any degree. Instead, I think the main criticism we face mostly comes from the accusation that we fetishize these ladies. For example:

White men who only date Asian women are always accused of fetishizing them:

You don’t like them because of who they are. You like them because you love their Asian features and behaviors. You don’t care about them as a person. You only married her because you can’t get enough of her slanted eyes, black hair, slim figure and golden yellow skin. You keep her around because you expect her to be subservient and satisfy your every sexual desire unconditionally.

We’ve all heard this before. And this is just one example. There are plenty more out there. Suffice to say, men who love muscular women might also be slandered for feeling the same way:

You only like them because their muscles turn you on! You only like them because you find their bodies attractive, not them as people. The only purpose a female bodybuilder serves to you is to help you satisfy your personal sexual gratifications. They’re a fetish to you, no different than watching porn or seeing young girls in Catholic school uniforms.

And so on. We’re not fans of these women. We’re creepy, animalistic chauvinist pigs. The fact these women are physically strong means nothing. If you put lipstick on a pig, it’s still a pig. If you put muscles on a woman, it doesn’t change the fact you’re unequivocally objectifying her.

I really love Lindsay Mulinazzi.
I really love Lindsay Mulinazzi.

But let’s hold on for a moment. All judging aside, there’s nothing wrong with being enamored by someone’s physical beauty. It’s nature. It’s natural. It’s a product of hormones, biology and generations and generations of reproduction. Also, there’s nothing morally reprehensible about being physically attracted to someone. Man or woman, gay or straight, it’s all part of human nature. But how you treat a person, however, is a whole other can of worms.

That’s really what this entire conversation boils down to in a nutshell (wait, can you really boil something down to a nutshell? I may have meshed two idioms into one…). How you treat a person. The Miss America pageant is criticized for putting attractive young women on display for no purpose other than to give male viewers something pleasant to look at for a few hours. The Legends Football League (formerly the Lingerie Football League)? Infamous at best. Misogynistic at worst. But nevertheless, no one watches it for the “sport.”

I will admit this is a difficult subject to broach. This conversation hits a lot of us on a gut level. It’s hard to separate my personal desires from my yearning to communicate fairly and objectively. So here is how I will approach this issue:

Objectification, at its core, is a personal thing. Try as we may, we can never know what’s in someone’s heart. Are there men out there who treat FBBs only as sex objects and not as people? Yes. Are there people (men and women) out there who detest FBBs because of their outdated definitions of “femininity?” Yes. Are some female muscle fantasies (for example, wanting to hurt, degrade or humiliate an FBB) shared by some of us rooted in misogyny? Yes, it’s quite possible.

Diana Tinnelle Stanback is someone I've recently discovered. Why haven't I known about her longer?
Diana Tinnelle Stanback is someone I’ve recently discovered. Why haven’t I known about her longer?

I’m not here to deny that objectification happens. I’m not going to argue that misogyny is a thing of the past. Unfortunately, both are still prevalent in our world.

But…we’ll never know for sure how someone feels. What lies in your heart is something no one else will ever know. I know in my heart that I’ve never dehumanized a muscular woman. I treat them as people, not toys. But no matter how much I try to convince myself of this, there’s always that lingering bit of doubt in my mind.

The sport of bodybuilding is all about aesthetic and judging this aesthetic. It goes against what we’ve been taught about how to treat people. A judge at a bodybuilding contest judges a competitor purely based on what their body looks like. How nice they are, how smart they are, and how hard they’ve worked to get to this point doesn’t matter. What matters is how they appear in your subjective (though based on predetermined objective criteria) viewpoint. This goes counter to our culture that teaches us not to be shallow and judge someone on their looks. But within the context of the sport of bodybuilding, this type of judgment is completely justified.

A bodybuilder willingly puts themselves out there to be judged. This requires a level of self-esteem most of us do not possess. So if you really like how they look, is that such a bad thing? After all, their livelihood depends on improving their body’s appearance. If fans out there love the results, what’s the harm?

So we’re in a strange situation where we’re discussing people who willingly put themselves out there and dedicate their lives to shaping their bodies to be as aesthetically pleasing as possible. While a bodybuilder’s chief objective isn’t to maximize their sex appeal, inevitably they’re going to enhance their sex appeal whether they like it or not. True, they’re athletes, not models. But when you sculpt your body to superhuman proportions, eventually somebody’s going to notice!

The lesson to be learned is simple: treat others as you would want to be treated. The Golden Rule is as old as time, but it’s stood the test of time for a reason. It’s a damn good rule to follow!

Don’t treat a female bodybuilder like a piece of meat. If you ever encounter one, treat her with respect. Don’t expect her to do certain things for you or allow you to do certain things to her just because you saw a video of her doing similar activities to a paid actor. Recognize their humanity. Accept that it’s perfectly okay to find her sexually attractive, but don’t allow this attraction to warp your perceptions of them.

The Blonde Muscle Goddess Cindy Phillips.
The Blonde Muscle Goddess Cindy Phillips.

Essentially, don’t be a jerk. You’ll be fine if you always act as kind and respectful as you can.

Will some people continue to ridicule you? Of course. Will certain folks still insist there’s something fundamentally “wrong” with you? Naturally. Just tune them out. Only you know what’s in your mind and heart.

The issue of sexual objectification is a tough one to tackle. Human history is chock full of battles between people wanting to be acknowledged as human beings and people who refuse to treat them like that. This still continues today.

People are people. We are all people trying to make our way through this confusing universe. Our time is limited here on planet Earth. We shouldn’t make things harder on each other if we can avoid it.

So embrace your female muscle fandom. And show your appreciation for these ladies and all their hard work. It’s the most respectful thing you can do.

Strong is Sexy, Brawn is Beautiful, Muscles are Magnificent: The Inevitable Paradigm Shift of a Female Muscle Lover

Don't like strong women? I dare you to look at Juliana Malacarne and feel the same way afterward.
Don’t like strong women? I dare you to look at Juliana Malacarne and feel the same way afterward.

There’s something about loving female muscle that brings out the, er, peculiar in us.

“Peculiar” in the sense that our thoughts, behaviors, fantasies and desires are controlled by this one quirk – a quirk most of us discovered at a very specific place and time. The love of female muscle didn’t happen at birth. Nor did it necessarily take a long time to “get used to.” No, it hit us like a lightning bolt…or a semi-truck…or a freight train ramming us at full speed.

Our attraction to female bodybuilders, fitness models, athletes and ordinary women who take their weightlifting seriously can be traced back to a very particular incident that one will never forget.

Perhaps it was a bodybuilding show you saw on TV. Maybe it was a single magazine photo of a gorgeous FBB you saw sitting on a bookstore shelf. It could have been a video of a brawny lady pumping her muscles in a grainy cell-phone quality YouTube video. Or maybe it was an up close and personal encounter with a strong woman you saw at your gym.

Whatever it was, whoever you are and whatever the circumstances were, you know what I’m talking about. Once you “discovered” the world of female muscle, there was no going back. You were hooked. Forever.

And there’s no way you’d ever wish to “unsee” what was previously seen. No way. Nope. My eyes are wide open. No need to go back!

But returning to my original point, many of you should know what I’m talking about when I say this newfound attraction brings out the “peculiar” in us. In addition to opening our eyes to new forms of female beauty, we also change the way we look at many previously held beliefs. We experience a term we often heard in high school philosophy class:

A paradigm shift.

What do I mean by this? Of course, I only speak for myself. But I can tell you that once I discovered female muscle, I noticed significant changes in my life that I never realized until I spent one sleepless night thinking about it. My attitudes changed. The way I looked at women changed. The way I conducted my own life somewhat changed. There were changes that I hadn’t noticed before.

A meme I think we can all agree with. Lisa Cross would approve, I'm sure.
A meme I think we can all agree with. Lisa Cross would approve, I’m sure.

You know what? These were good changes. Positive changes. Becoming a female muscle lover didn’t just open my eyes to a whole new world of feminine beauty. It opened my heart to wanting to become a better person. I wanted to improve myself and relate more harmoniously with people.

Think what I’m talking about is strange? Here are a few thoughts to consider:

1. Our view of traditional gender roles and stereotypes get completely shattered

Women are the weaker sex? Women shouldn’t lift at the gym like a man? Women are unwilling to put in the effort to develop really strong muscles? A woman with muscles can’t possibly look sexy?

Wrong! All wrong!

Without going off on some sort of gender equality-fueled rant, suffice to say our perspective on traditional gender roles get smashed into a million pieces after discovering the world of female muscle. Before I developed my keen interest in strong women, it never occurred to me that a woman should try to have large muscles like a man. I never doubted the possibility that a woman could look like that, but it never crossed my mind that someone should ever attain to look that way.

But since my “awakening,” things are different. Now I seek out women who look like “that.” Now I’m very much aware that women are not genetically handicapped when it comes to developing impressive biceps or six-pack abs. Now whenever I think about the ideal beautiful woman, a skinny twig doesn’t automatically come to mind.

Megan Abshire might want to change her name to Megan Bicepshire.
Megan Abshire might want to change her name to Megan Bicepshire.

In short, what we once thought were unlady-like has now become very sexy and feminine. Honestly, I could watch an hour of porn featuring two skinny people having obviously staged sex and get bored fast. But, I could watch a quick two minute video of Victoria Dominguez pumping her muscles at the gym wearing sweat pants and large headphones on her head and I have the sudden urge to, um, you know.

Gym footage is my porn. It’s better than porn. It’s more than porn. It’s art.

That’s probably an exaggeration, but bear with me. I’m on a roll here.

One other aspect of appreciating a woman with muscles is the diminishment of sexist attitudes. The more you see another person as a peer instead of the “other,” the more you will respect them. I’m sure many of you who discovered your attraction to strong women no longer felt like they were the “weaker sex” or they had to conform to specific gender roles. Instead, you probably started to wish more ladies lifted instead of killing themselves at the cardio machines.

Misogyny is rooted in the belief that women are inferior to men (or at the very least they belong in separate categories, which inevitably leads to “separate but equal” attitudes that tend to become anything but equal). Generations of marginalization has created this mindset in lots of people, men and women alike. But someone who appreciates a muscular woman for who she is will scrap that outdated way of thinking and embrace something even more radical: true equality.

This could also partially explain why a lot of men are repulsed by female muscle. It’s not because they’re actually disgusted by what they see, rather they can’t wrap their minds around the fact that they don’t have a monopoly on muscularity. Your mother, sisters and female co-workers could be just as buff as you. And that scares a lot of guys. They don’t want to become the weaker sex. They don’t want to lose their power society has granted them for centuries. Therefore, they react negatively any time a woman chooses to break down these barriers and take charge of her life.

2. Your standards of beauty change

Think ultra-skinny is beautiful? Nope!

Waking up to the realities of female muscle will also completely alter your standards of beauty. No longer will bony supermodels cut it. You will want meat on her bones. And not “meat” in the sense of a healthy amount of body fat to give off a curvy look. Nope. While there’s nothing wrong with that particular aesthetic, you’ll start to desire women who have actual meat on their bodies.

Meat. Muscles. Brawn. Bulk. Mass. Strength. Power. Authority.

You know. That sort of thing.

Ever since I discovered my personal Incomprehensible Admiration for female muscle, images of supermodels strutting down the runway didn’t excite me as much as it did back when I was in junior high school. Once upon a time ago someone like Elle Macpherson would make me drool uncontrollably. Today, I might turn my head if she walked right past me. Maybe.

But what if Lora Ottenad, a middle-aged muscle woman, were to walk past me? I’d stop dead in my tracks, drop my jaw to the ground and probably pass out cold for a week.

And if she were to give me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation? Yeah, I’d probably die. Happy.

The Goddess from Trinidad, Kashma Maharaj.
The Goddess from Trinidad, Kashma Maharaj.

What once seemed ugly now is beautiful. What you chose to avert your eyes from becomes something from which you can’t look away. What you wanted to avoid became something you couldn’t get enough of. What you originally thought was “beautiful” now becomes “meh.” In other words, I still find women like Cindy Crawford (another 90s supermodel reference) and Katy Perry (she’s more contemporary) beautiful, but someone like Cindy Landolt is…well, more beautiful.

That might be a more accurate way of putting it. “Traditional” standards of beauty don’t necessarily go away. You just start to add more tools to your toolbox. Yes, Adriana Lima is one of the most gorgeous women on the planet, but Catherine Holland is a nice runner up. There’s no shame in being second place, wouldn’t you say?

3. You feel more inspired to improve yourself

A lot of athletes use their role models to inspire them. How many of today’s basketball stars have Michael Jordan posters hanging in their lockers even though they’re grown men and no longer 12-year-old boys? How many aspiring bodybuilders watch old YouTube clips of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Ronnie Coleman or Jay Cutler (the bodybuilder, not the Chicago Bears quarterback) before heading to the gym?

Inspiration can go a long way. It helps you emotionally jump any mental hurdles that come your way. Mind over matter, you say? This is a prime example.

On a more personal level, I’ve discovered since my fascination with female muscle began, I’ve become more interested in improving my own health and wellness.

My thinking goes, If Deidre Pagnanelli, a 40-something mother, could look like that, why can’t I? Of course I’m a dude, but still! If she can develop sexy curves like that, as a man I need to step up my game if I want to look good to the opposite sex.

Some people are inspired by their peers. I find that I’m inspired by the very people I want to impress. I’ll be honest. I don’t work out to impress other guys. I don’t care what other dudes think. I work out to get a physique that hopefully impresses the ladies! This is why I try to get to the gym at least 3-4 times per week and hit as many different muscle groups as possible. I want that lovely lady I have my eye on to have her eye on me!

The bold and the beautiful: Julie Bourassa is both.
The bold and the beautiful: Julie Bourassa is both.

If Joe Musclehead thinks my definition is improving, that means nothing to me. But if Sally Fitness Queen thinks I look good…well shucks. That’s fine with me!

This is what happens when you get sucked into the world of female muscle. It inspires you to hop on the bandwagon and get going yourself. What’s the harm in that?

4. What once was disgusting now becomes attractive

Related to a previous point, another major perspective shift inevitable in becoming a fan of female muscle is the phenomena of what was once disgusting becoming attractive.

Did you think big muscles were gross on a woman? Did you gag seeing a lady with veins protruding from her arms? Not a fan of broad shoulders on a traditionally feminine form?

But we’ve discussed this in detail previously. Let’s talk about something entirely different. Let’s talk about fetish and kink culture.

Fetish activities you once found disgusting, weird, bizarre or repulsive start to actually turn you on. If the thought of a strong, authoritative woman tying you up to a bed and “torturing” you didn’t arouse you before, the thought might have just become more appealing now that you know FBBs like Kathy Connors and Victoria Dominguez offer these services.

BDSM activities sounded like a trashy idea hyped up in “50 Shades of Gray,” but if Lisa Cross offered to spank me for being bad, I might give it a shot. Why the hell not?

This also is relevant in regards to personal fantasy. You might not go as far as pay a professional dominatrix to put a chain around your penis and pour hot candle wax on your chest, but at the very least certain daydreams will sound appealing to you that didn’t before.

What would it be like to have a strong woman wrap her legs around my throat? What would it be like to arm wrestle a female bodybuilder? How cool would it be for Yvette Bova to wear a strap-on and stick it in my, uh, you-know-where?

Sound disgusting? If you had asked me this 15 years ago, I would’ve said “yes.” Ask me that today…and I’ll think about it. I might not go along with it, but I’ll think about it. There’s no such thing as the Thought Police, right?

Roxanne Edwards could kick your ass.
Roxanne Edwards could kick your ass.

5. You feel the urge to change the world

My attraction to female muscle didn’t make me passive. It made me pro-active. I started this blog. I became very bold and booked not one, not two, but three muscle worship sessions with three real (and very gorgeous) female bodybuilders. I’ve had conversations with complete strangers from different countries about topics we would never discuss with our friends and family.

But that’s just the beginning. Anyone who shares this obsession knows what I’m talking about. Our love for female muscle isn’t just a casual attraction. It consumes us. It motivates us. It lights a fire inside us.

It inspires us not just to change ourselves (as I discuss in point #3), but to change the entire world. Our shattered gender stereotypes, standards of beauty and tolerance for “different” kinds of people inspire us to want to make a positive impact in the universe. We want to inspire people to get healthier. We want unhealthy standards of beauty to melt like the snows of yesteryear. We want girls to grow up with self-confidence instead of doubt and insecurities.

The eyes of Lindsay Mulinazzi could stop time.
The eyes of Lindsay Mulinazzi could stop time.

Our love for female muscle isn’t selfish. It’s altruistic. It’s philanthropic. We want every woman on planet Earth to feel good about her body. We want all men in the world to not be intimidated by a strong woman, but instead embrace her as an equal instead of a threat.

Realistically, female bodybuilders will never be in a position in popular culture to make a significant impact. Fans of female bodybuilders will also never be able to influence our collective psyche. But we want to. We want to see more of Ronda Rousey on TV and less of Miley. We want “strong” to be the new “skinny.” Will this happen overnight? No, but little by little we can make this a reality.

If any of these thoughts seem “peculiar” to you, I completely understand. They are peculiar. There truly is something about loving female muscle that does strange things to us. If love makes you crazy, then consider us all batshit crazy to the max. Our minds have been awoken. Our eyes are no longer shut. Our hearts are wide open, ready to embrace a love many of you still think is “gross.”

Strong women aren’t gross. Strong women are beautiful gifts from God. Strong women will make this world a better place for all of us. No matter your gender, sexual orientation, nationality, religion, race, color, creed, political beliefs or physical ability, we can all learn from welcoming a new aesthetic into our lives. An aesthetic that isn’t repulsive, but one that’s beautiful beyond description.

Your heart has so much capacity to love. Love to your fullest. And when you think you can’t possibly love any more, love some more. And more, and more, and more.

Let the paradigm shift begin!

A Word of Caution: The Dangers of Crossing the Line in Your Female Muscle Fandom

Gracyanne Barbosa is divine.
Gracyanne Barbosa is divine.

Usually I try to keep the tone of my essays light, informative and humorous.

The purpose of writing articles like Top 10 Misconceptions About Having a Female Muscle Fetish, The Strangeness of Having a Female Muscle Fetish and Female Muscle and Masculine Insecurity was to articulate the inner feelings of many men (and women) out there who adore strong women. I want to inform, provoke thought and inspire discussions among people from all backgrounds who are curious about this topic.

However, I feel obligated to discuss something else that needs to be said. There are, unfortunately, some dangers attached to this special sexual attraction that I’ve come to embrace. So I’ve decided to provide a word of caution to all you female muscle fans out there.

But before I do this, I need to preface this discussion with these thoughts:

Anything in life, when taken to extremes, can be dangerous. Any interest, hobby or activity has the potential to become harmful when taken too far. A prime example is drinking alcohol. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a glass of red wine or a beer every once in a while. But if you drink too much and too often, you set yourself up for health issues that we should all be familiar with by now.

Alcoholism. Liver damage. Automobile accidents caused by drunk driving. Strained relationships. Personal injury. Vomiting and other kinds of sicknesses.

You understand. I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about. And this list is by no means exhaustive.

Drinking is one example of a fairly harmless activity that – when taken too far – can have very negative repercussions that can hurt both you and the people around you (including those you love and hold dear). Nobody wants this to happen. But unfortunately it does all too often.

Believe it or not, a healthy activity like exercise can also be dangerous when taken to extremes. Excessive exercise can actually damage your muscles and joints instead of strengthening them. Exhaustion could cause kidney and heart problems. Injury, soreness, dehydration and increased chances of accidents can all result from excessive exercise. So, even a supposedly healthy activity like working out can be detrimental to your health if you’re not careful.

The lovely Gina Ostarly.
The lovely Gina Ostarly.

The same goes for being a fan of female muscle. I’ve written extensively about why I believe it’s healthy, wonderful and socially beneficial to love and support strong women. Female bodybuilders, athletes, competitors and everyday women looking to improve themselves through weight training should be encouraged for their willingness to advance themselves personally, not discouraged and ridiculed.

That being said, there are some dangers inherent in taking this fandom too far.

Like any hidden obsession, excess can be financially draining. Spending too much money on female muscle-related porn, sessions (wrestling, fantasy, muscle worship, BDSM, role playing, etc.) and entertainment media can cost you a lot of money if you’re not prudent in how you spend. We know all about so-called “shopaholics” who can’t stop using their credit card. They end up buying tons of worthless junk while draining their bank account at the same time. The Internet makes all this unnecessary spending way easier.

You can also violate the trust of a loved one. A man who secretly spends his money on sessions with female bodybuilders might be doing this without his wife or girlfriend’s approval. What happens if she ever finds out? Will she feel like he “cheated” on her? Will she ever look at him the same way? Will she ever be able to trust him with anything again (including raising children, paying the bills on time and/or providing for the family)?

Understandably, these things will come into question if one is not open about their fascination with female muscle and how it affects others. It should also be said that there is a fine line between “fascination” and “obsession.” An obsession is an uncontrollable urge to consume or engage in an activity in a manner that possesses you. It consumes your time, energy and thoughts. An obsession (combined with other psychological problems) leads people like John Hinckley to attempt to assassinate the President of the United States of America for mindboggling reasons.

Of course, this is an extreme example. Most unhealthy obsessions with female muscle won’t direct you to attempt to murder a sitting head of state. Most of the damage, if any, will be done relationally, financially and socially.

A fascination, on the other hand, is when one appreciates something from a safe distance and knows when to back off when a particular line is crossed. You keep your wits about you at all times.

Tanji Johnson, a local gal from Renton, WA and the winner of the Fitness International title at the Arnold Sports Festival in 2013.
Tanji Johnson, a local gal from Renton, WA and the winner of the Fitness International title at the Arnold Sports Festival in 2013.

I do not believe it is unhealthy to be attracted to muscular women. Not at all. I think it’s a perfectly healthy aspect to one’s sexuality that should be expressed, not suppressed. But it can become unhealthy in a heartbeat if certain urges aren’t placed within reasonable parameters.

I’ll use me as an example. I once got very close to having this attraction negatively affect me. Let me explain:

Last year I engaged in three separate muscle worship sessions. Toward the end of October I had an opportunity to engage in a fourth. I exchanged a few e-mails and text messages with this particular female bodybuilder who was planning to travel to Seattle. She told me her rates – which I felt were a little higher than I was able to pay.

I’m not a very rich person, so paying for sessions is a very big deal to me. I don’t have $350-$400 at my disposal for one hour’s worth of entertainment. I’m not a multi-millionaire. So I made a wise decision and decided not to go ahead and schedule anything with her. She understood my position. I knew I didn’t have the financial resources to go through this. So I let my better judgment win out at the end. I felt proud of myself for demonstrating such fiscal discipline.

But don’t misunderstand me. I was very close to going through with it. I seriously contemplated emptying money from my savings account to pay for it. But I knew this would hurt me in the long term. I saw myself nearly go down a path I told myself I would try to avoid at all costs.

Blonde beauty Megan Avalon.
Blonde beauty Megan Avalon.

I say this not because I want to shame anyone who gives in to their temptations and ends up making foolish decisions in the process. No, rather I want to show you that I once went dangerously close to the “dark side” and spent money I couldn’t afford to spend. But I resisted and learned a valuable lesson from it. I’m not preaching some holier-than-thou message to condemn anyone who doesn’t let rationality win out. I want to let you know that I’m not a perfect person. I’m not infallible. I make mistakes.

I was just fortunate to not make a mistake in that specific instance. But unfortunately, not everyone is that lucky.

So whether your obsession hurts you financially, relationally or socially, always keep in mind the important things in life: Friends, family, your health, spirituality (if you’re into that sort of thing) and being a good person. Never let your desires control you. Think before you act. Love other people; don’t lust after them as if they were merely sex objects. Never objectify people. Treat them as that: people.

Female bodybuilders aren’t toys. They’re not sex objects you can treat like dirt just because you pay them money to deliver services for you. Remember the Golden Rule. We all learned that at some point in our childhood, right?

We’re all people trying to make our way through this crazy and confusing universe. No one will ever get it right 100% of the time. We all make mistakes. We all let our worst judgment get the better of us. We all act irrationally at times. This is part of being human.

If you think you need help, seek help. Talk to a professional counselor or someone who’s willing to listen, empathize and support you. Don’t bottle up your anger. Don’t take your insecurities out on other people. When in doubt, at the very least talk to someone. If they love you, they’ll understand and won’t judge you for it. And if they do judge you, are they really someone you want to be close with in the first place?

Love is about trust. When people violate that trust, we get hurt. When we violate that trust in others, they get hurt. It’s a vicious cycle. It tears apart families. It creates holes in people’s lives. This is true of everything, female muscle fandom notwithstanding. Please, communicate with your loved ones if you sense you’re going down a dark path. There is a point of return – just make sure you can identify the problem early and take a proactive approach to stopping it dead in its tracks.

I will say this once again, a million times if I have to. There’s nothing wrong with being physically attracted to muscular ladies. There’s nothing wrong with admiring strong women. There’s nothing wrong with expressing your desires and living out your fantasies if all parties are consenting. Consent and transparency are virtues.

What are your thoughts on this matter? Feel free to e-mail me at ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com or write your comments below for everyone to see. I’ll share some of your feedback if I feel it is valuable to our discussion and you want a wider audience to read it.

Thank you!

Starting a Dialogue, Creating a Better World: An Open Letter from Ryan Takahashi

I never heard of Holland Canter before a young reader e-mailed me and mentioned her.
I never heard of Holland Canter before a young reader e-mailed me and mentioned her.

Dear readers,

When I first started this blog back in the spring of 2012, I did it because I had a fire lit inside me.

This fire was fueled by strong muscular women and my newly discovered attraction to them. This fire was unquenchable. A whole ocean of rushing water could not put out this flame.

Anyone who has discovered the world of female muscle knows what I’m talking about. What once seemed foreign is now more desired than whatever you previously considered “normal.” You’ll never look at a professional female athlete the same way. You’ll never look at a male athlete the same way either.

Any look a man can achieve a woman could achieve as well!” you’d enthusiastically say.

When I first launched this blog, the purpose was to give myself a place to publicly feature my fiction writing. It all started with “The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi” series. Since then I’ve written numerous articles and essays all about my personal attraction to female muscle. I’ve also been fortunate to have gathered an international readership that crosses multiple language and cultural barriers. For this I am eternally humbled.

Now my purpose has slightly changed. I’m no longer running this blog for personal reasons. I want to run it for more altruistic and educational reasons. I want to start a dialogue. I want to contribute to a larger conversation about sexuality, gender relations, sexism, pop culture and society. I want my writing to inform people. I want to comfort those who feel “weird” that they like muscular women. I want to inspire women who are insecure about their bodies that it’s okay to lift at the gym (and that it’s perfectly healthy to do so!). I want to teach people who think strong women are “gross” that they aren’t. They’re beautiful in ways you could never imagine.

I want people to open their minds, and ultimately…their hearts.

I want to start a dialogue. A rational, productive dialogue. No screaming matches. No hurling insults. No calling people hurtful names. No shouting, belittling or making condescending remarks. I want none of that. I want people to intelligently talk about these issues and discuss how we can all become better people.

Monica Brant was one of my first ever female muscle crushes. Wonder why?
Monica Brant was one of my first ever female muscle crushes. Wonder why?

I realize this is a pretty lofty goal. I understand that finding muscular women attractive isn’t the only sexual kink that needs to be de-stigmatized. I know we need to have a lot more discussions about a wider range of topics in order to truly make this world a better place. I’m not naïve to those facts.

But nevertheless, I want this blog to be a place where people can come together and share their stories, experiences, ideas, secrets and anecdotes in a safe, nonjudgmental environment. After all, that’s the beauty of the Internet. You can be completely anonymous. No one will ever know who you are unless you tell them.

“Ryan Takahashi” isn’t my real name. I don’t even live in Seattle. I live just outside of Seattle. But I am Japanese-American and a male under 30 years old. All this you can be assured of, I promise you.

I also can promise you that I respect privacy. No real names will be published here unless you want it mentioned. I’m also very open-minded and will not judge you for expressing your voice.

So this is an open invitation to start a dialogue with me. I’ve already received a number of e-mails from people all over the world who have come to me asking questions and wanting answers. I will admit I do not have all the answers. I’m not God. I’m just one person trying to make my way through this crazy universe. My perspective is no more valid than yours.

Think all Asian women are small and petite? Rebekah Kresila should change your mind about that.
Think all Asian women are small and petite? Rebekah Kresila should change your mind about that.

All I’ve done is put into words the feelings, desires and thoughts many of us share together. Someone has already dubbed me a “spokesman” for female muscle fans. Thank you for thinking of me in this way!

So, feel free to send me e-mails or write comments in any of the articles you read here. My e-mail address is ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com. (FYI – I write it out in this format to avoid Spam messages from unwanted sources)

Ask me anything. Vent to me. Give me suggestions on topics you want discussed on this blog. Feel free to disagree with me. Don’t feel like the conversation has to end with my words. If you want to be a guest writer, send whatever you’ve written and I’ll definitely consider publishing it on here. Fiction, non-fiction, random thoughts, incoherent ramblings, it doesn’t matter. Send me anything.

I don’t want to be the only voice on this forum.

We all have a voice. We all have ideas. Everyone has a story to share. Please, share it with me. I want to talk with you. I can guarantee others do as well.

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my writings. I am truly humbled by all of you. Without you, I wouldn’t be doing this.

Peace be with you always.

Sincerely,

Ryan

I leave you with an image of Brenda Smith flexing her amazing biceps.
I leave you with an image of Brenda Smith flexing her amazing biceps.

The 12 Days of Female Muscle Christmas

Dear Santa, all I want this year is Brandi Mae Akers under my tree. Pretty please with sugar on top?
Dear Santa, all I want this year is Brandi Mae Akers under my tree. Pretty please with sugar on top?

If reality is too boring for you, fantasy is your only other option.

This is where this blog especially comes in handy. Anyone who adores female muscle knows we have fantasies that very rarely ever come true in real life. How many strong, sexy ladies do you cross paths with on a daily basis?

The answer: not too many. I hope this explains to you why living in this little fantasy world of ours is so important to us! Daydreams of mine are often the inspiration for articles on this blog.

So here’s another post for your female muscle fandom’s reading pleasure:

Since we’re merely weeks away from the much anticipated day of December 25, I figure it’d be appropriate to list what I want my true love to send me during the 12 Days of Christmas.

So…my so-called “true love.” Heed my words if you plan on pleasing me this holiday season. Enjoy.

On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the second day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the third day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Four days in a secluded log cabin with Victoria Dominguez,

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Five romantic dates with Lisa Cross,

Four days in a secluded log cabin with Victoria Dominguez,

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Six beautiful fitness models participating in a photo shoot with me,

Five romantic dates with Lisa Cross,

Four days in a secluded log cabin with Victoria Dominguez,

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Seven weeks of personal training with Shannon Courtney (admit it, Shannon would make a badass workout buddy!),

Six beautiful fitness models participating in a photo shoot with me,

Five romantic dates with Lisa Cross,

Four days in a secluded log cabin with Victoria Dominguez,

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the eighth day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Eight figure competitors a flexing (in a private mirrored room alone with me, of course!),

Seven weeks of personal training with Shannon Courtney,

Six beautiful fitness models participating in a photo shoot with me,

Five romantic dates with Lisa Cross,

Four days in a secluded log cabin with Victoria Dominguez,

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Nine erotic videos starring myself and Yvette Bova,

Eight figure competitors a flexing,

Seven weeks of personal training with Shannon Courtney,

Six beautiful fitness models participating in a photo shoot with me,

Five romantic dates with Lisa Cross,

Four days in a secluded log cabin with Victoria Dominguez,

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the tenth day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Ten minutes alone getting my annual “checkup” from Dr. Dena Westerfield,

Nine erotic videos starring myself and Yvette Bova,

Eight figure competitors a flexing,

Seven weeks of personal training with Shannon Courtney,

Six beautiful fitness models participating in a photo shoot with me,

Five romantic dates with Lisa Cross,

Four days in a secluded log cabin with Victoria Dominguez,

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber Deluca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Eleven million dollars available to financially support struggling female bodybuilders, figure competitors, fitness models and personal trainers (see? I can be philanthropic too!),

Ten minutes alone getting my annual “checkup” from Dr. Dena Westerfield,

Nine erotic videos starring myself and Yvette Bova,

Eight figure competitors a flexing,

Seven weeks of personal training with Shannon Courtney,

Six beautiful fitness models participating in a photo shoot with me,

Five romantic dates with Lisa Cross,

Four days in a secluded log cabin with Victoria Dominguez,

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love sent to me…

Twelve gorgeous, sexy female bodybuilders on speed dial (in no particular order: Miss Cross, Miss Masino, Miss Moher, Miss DeLuca, Miss Courtney, Miss Bova, Dr. Westerfield, Miss Dominguez, Lynn McCrossin, Colette Nelson, Jana Linke-Sippl and Sondra Faas),

Eleven million dollars available to support financially struggling female bodybuilders, figure competitors, fitness models and personal trainers,

Ten minutes alone getting my annual “checkup” from Dr. Dena Westerfield,

Nine erotic videos starring myself and Yvette Bova,

Eight figure competitors a flexing,

Seven weeks of personal training with Shannon Courtney,

Six beautiful fitness models participating in a photo shoot with me,

Five romantic dates with Lisa Cross,

Four days in a secluded log cabin with Victoria Dominguez,

Threesomes with me, Denise Masino and Gayle Moher,

Two free hours of muscle worship with Amber DeLuca,

And Alina Popa in a thong bikini.

So whether you celebrate Christmas or not (yes, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa are legitimate holidays too), I hope we can all agree that this needs to happen. True, our stockings will be stuffed to their limit, but that’s a small price to pay to fulfill all my female muscle fantasies.

I’m curious, dear readers from all corners of the globe: What would YOU (whether you were “naughty” or “nice” throughout 2013) like to see under your Christmas tree this year?

In case you needed to see it, here's a photo of Alina Popa in a thong bikini. Hmmmm...
In case you needed to see it, here’s a photo of Alina Popa in a thong bikini. Hmmmm…

Top 10 Items on Every Female Muscle Lover’s Christmas Wish List

All I want for Christmas is...Jana Linke-Sippl.
All I want for Christmas is…Jana Linke-Sippl.

It’s December. The days are getting shorter. The skies are becoming grayer. Precipitation is starting to fall harder and more often. Chilly weather is now the norm. Sunny days? Sorry, but see you next year.

But don’t fret. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Christmas is approaching!

As a proud Female Muscle Lover (“F**k My Life” isn’t the only phrase with the acronym “FML” that is in our popular vernacular), there are many things I wish were different about our society. Whether you live in the United States, Europe, Latin America, Asia, Africa, the Middle East, the Pacific or somewhere else, I’m going to guess the presence of muscular women isn’t very common wherever you are.

What a shame that is! If only more ladies would be encouraged to pick up a weight every once in a while and LIFT at the gym instead of doing endless hours of cardio.

That got me thinking. Since Christmas is fast approaching, I thought it would be appropriate to list the Top 10 Items on Every Female Muscle Lover’s Christmas Wish List. Even if you don’t celebrate Christmas, bear with me here. I’m sure these are wishes you’d love to have granted regardless of what time of the year it is.

Without further ado, let’s get this started:

Dear Santa,

My name is Ryan. You may not remember me, but I was definitely a “Good” boy growing up in the suburbs of Seattle, WA, USA. If I somehow got on your “Bad” list, I apologize and hope it won’t spill over into my adulthood.

I may be a grownup now, but I still have a list of items I want for Christmas. I understand you usually give out toys to all the good girls and boys, but my wish list is a little different. Though unorthodox, I sincerely believe I’m not alone in wanting these things. So if other people around the world share these same requests, you’re more likely to grant them, right?

Eh, whatever. I’ll let YOU decide how you want to divvy up the loot. Read carefully, because these items could very well change the course of human history if implemented correctly (no pressure!).

10. I want more women around the world to lift at the gym

If more women like Debi Laszewski lifted at the gym, would you ever miss a day?
If more women like Debi Laszewski lifted at the gym, would you ever miss a day?

If you’ve ever been to a gym, you probably know it’s nothing but a “Boy’s Club.” Men, young and old, usually are a monopoly in the weight room. Is this a bad thing? Not necessarily, but the situation could be improved.

Truth be told, if we more openly encouraged women to lift, this could come with many social benefits. Lifting improves your strength (obviously); a facet of our health that most of us concede is dominated by men. Females are the weaker sex? Yes, but that shouldn’t be an excuse not to lift.

Consider these other benefits. Lifting also helps speed up your metabolism, prevents injury (how many of us have strained our back because of either improper technique or having weak backs?), allows us to enjoy an easier life when we get older and improves our confidence.

How can it improve our confidence? Do you want to look in the mirror and think to yourself: “Damn, I look good!” If so, lift. Trust me, lifting won’t transform yourself into a bodybuilder. That requires dieting, taking supplements and creating a workout regimen unlike anything you’ve ever done before. But the difference between a “slim” look and a “toned” look can make all the difference in boosting your self-esteem.

9. I want “strong” to be the new “skinny”

Maryse Manios is strong and sexy. Enough said.
Maryse Manios is strong and sexy. Enough said.

Ever heard this catchphrase before? If not, don’t worry. The gist is that instead of pushing the idea that in order to be beautiful you have to be skinny, we should instead encourage the stronger, toned look as our preferred ideal.

If we (as a society) pushed the idea that “strong” is a preferable beauty ascetic to “skinny,” think of the benefits. We’d see fewer cases of eating disorders. Horribly unhealthy habits of starving yourself and experimenting with radical crash diets would dissipate. Judging people based on unrealistic standards would slowly become extinct.

But more important, people would be healthier. As mentioned before, building muscle keeps you stronger, burns unnecessary body fat, speeds up your metabolism and limits your chances of getting diabetes and suffering from heart disease.

See? “Strong” should be the new “skinny.” Being skinny doesn’t automatically mean you’re healthy. But being strong is a whole other story.

8. I want the marginalization of female bodybuilders to stop

Nikki Fuller deserves everyone's respect. MEOW.
Nikki Fuller deserves everyone’s respect. MEOW.

In case you haven’t heard, now is not the optimal time to be a female bodybuilder. The Arnold Classic (now known as The Arnold Sports Festival), arguably the most popular bodybuilding competition in the world, recently announced that starting in 2014 the Ms. International women’s international competition would be replaced by the “Arnold Classic 212 professional men’s bodybuilding division.”

Well then. It appears the “Powers That Be” are slowly but surely deciding that female bodybuilding isn’t worth continuing. Whether it’s a financial decision or one based on a trend of overall lack of interest in female bodybuilding, this is bad news for female muscle fans like me and many of you.

It’s hard to believe that female bodybuilding once held a significant place in pop culture. When it entered the mainstream in the 1970s and continued in the 80s and 90s, women like Rachel McLish and Cory Everson were legitimate celebrities. Not A-listers by any stretch of the imagination, but more famous than the female bodybuilders of today.

So my Christmas wish is simple. I want the marginalization of female bodybuilding to stop. NOW. I want it to become mainstream again. I want young FBBs like Shannon Courtney to be what Rachel and Cory were in the 70s and 80s. With more luck and with help from fans like you and I, this can happen.

We can make this a reality.

7. I want Iris Kyle to become more of a role model for young girls than Miley Cyrus

Miley Cyrus or Iris Kyle? There's no debate. Sorry, spawn of Billy Ray.
Miley Cyrus or Iris Kyle? There’s no debate. Sorry, spawn of Billy Ray.

Whenever the thought occurs to me that there are young kids out there who actually look up to people like Miley Cyrus and Kim Kardashian (and legitimately want to emulate them), it makes me want to bang my head against a wall.

I mean, seriously! REALLY? Come on! We can do better than that!!!

Yes, as a matter of fact, we can do better than that. We can have hardworking, accomplished women like Iris Kyle as role models instead. Kyle, who has won the Ms. Olympia 10 times and the Ms. International seven times, is currently the top ranked female bodybuilder in the world. She actually works hard for these accolades and didn’t depend on extensive plastic surgery, a famous father or an infamous sex tape to get her foot in the door.

While I highly doubt a lot of young girls will want to actually become bodybuilders when they reach adulthood, Iris Kyle is without a doubt a much better alternative than the jokers we have for “role models” today.

6. I want an army of gorgeous FBBs fighting alongside me during the imminent Zombie Apocalypse

In a battle for survival, who wouldn't want Denise Masino fighting by your side?
In a battle for survival, who wouldn’t want Denise Masino fighting by your side?

This is where I get into the territory of Fantasyland. It’s my Christmas wish list, so I can do whatever I want!

I’m not entirely sure why the concept of a Zombie Apocalypse is so popular right now, but it is what it is. If something like this were to ever happen (or something like it – such as a planet-wide extraterrestrial invasion, werewolves, vampires, velociraptors, Communists, rabid dogs, man-eating squirrels, etc.), how splendid would it be to have an army of badass female bodybuilders fighting alongside me?

In any fight for survival, one must endure a civilization reduced down to a Hobbesian State of Nature and battle through it by any means necessary. And you can succeed using only one guiding principle: Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

And if you had a rag tag team of gorgeous, strong, hardcore FBBs as your friends, imagine how doomed your enemies would be in a dogfight. No zombie, Commie, or squirrel with a taste for human flesh would stand a chance against us.

Imagine us walking through a deserted wasteland armed to the teeth with knives, baseball bats, Samurai swords and throwing stars. We hunt our own food. We live off whatever barren resources are left. We maintain a “pack” mentality, perhaps even forming our own tribe. We might even be mankind’s only hope for defeating this treacherous enemy.

But think of it this way. If this anime-inspired fantasy doesn’t appeal to you, consider this: In a world without normal societal structures such as jobs, functioning electronic devices and hectic modern-day schedules, there probably wouldn’t be much to do during the day.

Not much to do? Hm. What could I and a whole gang of lovely, muscular women do to pass the time between our epic battles for survival?

Draw your own conclusions here.

5. I want a Matrix/Inception-style dream machine available where I can live out my female muscle fantasies and experience them as if they were real

Fanny Palou. Whoa.
Fanny Palou. Whoa.

This is a wish that goes well beyond female muscle. Who hasn’t had fantasies of spending a romantic, candle-lit evening with the man/woman of their dreams? Or on a less sexual level, hitting a walk-off homerun in the bottom of the 9th inning in Game 7 of the World Series? Or scoring the game-winning touchdown in the waning seconds of the Super Bowl? Or delivering your Oscar acceptance speech moments after hearing your name called for Best Actor/Actress?

We all have our dream moments. Unlike actually living out your fantasies, the convenience of this particular wish is that the dream doesn’t have to last long. It lasts only as long as you want it to. Like the science fiction world of The Matrix and Inception, you create your own realities within whatever boundaries and limitations you desire.

No consequences, no penalties whenever something goes wrong.

What sort of a fantasy scenario would I craft? I could come up with hundreds of thousands of setups to tell you the honest truth…

4. I want to go on a romantic date with Lisa Cross

If my first date with Lisa Cross ends up like this, what a night that would be!
If my first date with Lisa Cross ends up like this, what a night that would be!

Oh, Miss Cross. You are so beautiful. Strong, confident, sexy. You’ve led a very interesting life. You’ve overcome self-esteem issues, an eating disorder and other troubles to become one of the most recognized bodybuilders in the business today.

Not bad for a British girl who once weighed “six and a half stone” as a teenager (as an American, I have no bloody idea what this means). You went from avoiding meals to consuming 5,000 calories per day spread over 10 separate meals. I’d sure like to go out to dinner with you!

Which is why a romantic date with the resilient Miss Cross sounds so damn appealing. Of course I’m stereotyping, but I’m going to assume that The British Bombshell must be a mannered young lady who’s well-spoken and remarkably thought-provoking in conversation. The fact she’s beautiful as hell is a whole other story.

A candlelit dinner complete with soft sensual music and an evening on the town would definitely hit the spot. And whatever happens after that would be gravy on top.

Or would she be the one who’s on top?

3. I want Victoria Dominguez to be my best friend

I want Miss Vicky to be my BFF. NOW!!!
I want Miss Vicky to be my BFF. NOW!!!

Think about all the advantages you would have if the stunningly gorgeous Victoria Dominguez were your best friend. You could hang out together. She would be an excellent training buddy (I know I’d sure feel inspired to go to the gym every single day). She seems outgoing, personable, intelligent and unapologetically sexy.

Plus, if you ever get into a bar fight or some kind of tussle with unwelcomed company, who else would you want defending your back? Bring ‘em on! She can protect my turf any day, if you know what I’m saying!

But seriously. It would be beyond amazing to have this elegant FBB as your BFF (did you see what I did there?). She can coach you through your first date with Miss Cross and perhaps join the fun later in the evening. Too kinky for you? Then why are you reading this list?

If you had Miss Dominguez defending your honor any time someone foolishly disrespects you, I can guarantee you wouldn’t be openly dishonored too often after that. No sir. Once this exotic Spanish/Caribbean beauty puts you in your place, you wouldn’t dare leave it for any reason.

That’s the kind of person I want at my side at all times.

2. I want to be stranded on a deserted island with Alina Popa

Me and Alina Popa on a deserted island? Yes, please!
Me and Alina Popa on a deserted island? Yes, please!

Me. Her. A deserted island. White sandy beaches. Palm trees. Fresh tropical fruit. No soul within thousands of miles. Plenty of food and drink to last us a lifetime (what were you expecting, the female muscle version of “Castaway?”).

Yes, that would be the life. Not to mention all the spare time we would have. Lots of spare time. No electronic devices, no employment, no bosses, no obligations. Just me and her.

Alright. I think we all know where this is going!

Humor me here. What enthusiastic Female Muscle Fan wouldn’t want this dream scenario to come true? Granted, you might have a different gorgeous, sexy FBB as your choice island mate, but the overall concept stays the same.

Hm. Where can I sign up?

1. I want a beautiful muscle girlfriend all to myself

If my girlfriend were Dr. Dena Westerfield, I wouldn't ask for another thing for Christmas ever again.
If my girlfriend were Dr. Dena Westerfield, I wouldn’t ask for another thing for Christmas ever again.

Yes, this is a bit selfish, but can you really blame me? A beautiful muscle girlfriend would be awesome. Who wouldn’t want a young lady like Catherine Holland or Michelle Levesque as your better half? I know for a fact they’d be my better half.

VOICE INSIDE YOUR HEAD: But wouldn’t you feel emasculated being with her? I mean, she can probably lift more than you!

ME: Well, if that’s the case, then so be it. I can live with that. It’s not like going to the gym and working out should be a competition or anything. Everyone does their own thing to get in shape. If my lady friend can bench press more than me, great. If her deadlifts blow me out of the water, fine. If she can squat more than twice my bodyweight, more power to her. If she can easily arm-wrestle any man to immediate submission, c’est-la vie.

If your lover looks that damn good, to hell with what other people say. If she’s that confident to take charge of her life and sculpt her body to look the way she wants it to look, then by all means I want her by my side. Bring her on!

If I saw Kathy Connors sitting under my Christmas tree, watch out!
If I saw Kathy Connors sitting under my Christmas tree, watch out!

So there you have it, Santa. Deliver what you can. I understand it’s a bit unrealistic to expect all these things to appear underneath my tree come Christmas morning, but even one of these items would completely shatter my expectations of your power and influence.

I’ll even up the ante! If you can give me just a single item on this list, I’ll never ask for another thing again! That’s right. From here on out, no more wish lists for me. None. I’m through. Done. Finished! Do you see the long-term economic benefits of granting me what I want?

Alright. I’ll stop now. I’m sure you have plenty of work to do between now and Christmas Eve. Tell your elves I said “hi” and your reindeer that I’m a big fan of their work.

Have a Happy Muscular Christmas, everybody!

Sincerely,

Ryan T.

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

I love me some Marina Lopez.
I love me some Marina Lopez.

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

A lot.

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

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

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

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

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

The British Bombshell Lisa Cross.
The British Bombshell Lisa Cross.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’m game. Are you?

Incomprehensible Admiration: The Internal Thoughts of a Female Muscle Lover

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

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

So what’s coming over me lately?

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

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

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

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

Jay Fuchs rocks my world.
Jay Fuchs rocks my world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sure brings back memories, doesn’t it?

I love me some Annie Rivieccio.
I love me some Annie Rivieccio.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our love for female muscle is no different.

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

The one and only Lynn McCrossin.
The one and only Lynn McCrossin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, you can kiss me.”

The absolutely gorgeous Angela Rayburn.
The absolutely gorgeous Angela Rayburn.

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

And how sweet did she taste. Yummy!

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

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

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

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

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

“Go ahead.”

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

She knew where I was going with this.

“You mean…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one can match Gina Davis.
No one can match Gina Davis.

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

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

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

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

A legend in her own right, Lenda Murray.
A legend in her own right, Lenda Murray.

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

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

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

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

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

I went over to my backpack and took it out.

“I brought a gift for you.”

I hand it to her and she smiles widely.

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

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

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

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

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

“One more kiss for the road?”

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

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

“Good night. Bye, bye!”

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

The Italian Muscle Goddess Mavi Gioia.
The Italian Muscle Goddess Mavi Gioia.

Yikes. Wow. What did I just experience?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I forgot to take a picture of her!

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

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