Nikki Fuller – The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi

Perhaps We Should Vote for a Female Bodybuilder for President

I'd vote Tina Jo Orban as "Best Legs" if such a category were to exist. — I’d vote Tina Jo Orban as “Best Legs” if such a category were to exist.

Unless you’ve been hiding under a rock for the past two years, or if you live outside of the United States and you don’t particularly care what happens in this country, most of you should be aware that very soon we will be bringing this God-awful presidential election to a merciful end and will choose who our next Commander-in-Chief will be.

I refuse to even name the two candidates who are running for my nation’s highest public office on the grounds that both of them have received enough attention from people like you and I. So perhaps this post will remain relevant four, eight, or twelve years from now. Who knows?

If this excruciating and painful election cycle has taught us anything – and it has indeed taught us many valuable lessons about the state of my nation and politics in general – it’s that qualifications for the job don’t matter to the typical voter when it comes to selecting the next U.S. President. So, in an effort to not get too political and keep matters civil, I will lay out a tongue-in-cheek argument for why Americans (and people from other countries who are blessed to live in a representational democracy, or at least a country that practices such style of governance in theory) should decide to vote for a female bodybuilder for president on Tuesday, November 8, 2016.

I will admit that I am embarrassed as a U.S. citizen to subject the world to watching our political theater play out in all its horrifying glory. Let’s hope 2016 is just one of those “weird” years that we look back upon decades later and proudly declare that we were fortunate enough to have lived through it (for the most part) unscathed. After all, we could do worse. And odds are we will actually end up doing worse sooner or later.

But I digress. I am no political commentator, but in my opinion the most significant reason why U.S. politics sucks right now is because we expect our politicians to deliver on promises that were unrealistic to begin with…which then breeds contempt, more unrealistic expectations, and more extreme candidates who can only get elected if they continue to up-the-ante and foster a whole new set of stupid promises. This means personality tends to matter more than qualifications or knowledge about the job, which explains an awful lot.

However, a female bodybuilder lives in a completely different world than politicians – but can offer said politicians a lot of life lessons that could go a long way in generating better public policies.

Think about the world a female bodybuilder inhabits. She’s working in an industry that persistently is trying to weed her out of it. The Ms. Olympia is dead and buried and doesn’t appear to be coming back any time soon. Other competitions may rise out of the ashes and attempt to take its place, but that doesn’t change the fact that the IFBB isn’t too keen on allowing hypermuscular competitors to be the “face” of the female side of the sport. They’d rather more “audience friendly” fitness and bikini competitors take center stage over the bigger and buffer ladies who’ve worked harder to achieve their physiques.

So, right off the bat a female bodybuilder has to endure working in a profession where the chances of cultivating strong career prospects are becoming dimmer and slimmer as time marches on. Yet, money doesn’t fall from the skies and she has to make an income somehow. This is where things like personal training, one-on-one online consulting, fitness entrepreneurship, and ahem, offering wrestling or muscle worship sessions to paying customers (all under the table and away from the prying hands of tax collectors, of course!) fit into the picture. She may not necessarily want to do any or most of these things, but as I mentioned before, money doesn’t grow on trees and food won’t miraculously appear on the dinner table out of thin air. So, a female bodybuilder who wants to pursue bodybuilding as a profession – more or less – must adapt to her present circumstances or face the inevitable option of having to choose a different career path.

Another lovely and gorgeous Tina: Tina Chandler.

Adaptation isn’t easy or seamless, but it does happen. People who live in the real world adapt every single day of their lives. What worked yesterday won’t necessarily work today and sure as hell won’t work tomorrow, so it’s foolish to remain stilted in one’s ways of doing things. One must always look for the next best opportunity or face the consequences of becoming poor, irrelevant, or both. This requires understanding the bodybuilding industry well, knowing what customers want (if you get my drift), and being willing to forge a new pathway if the current ones leads to a dead end. I didn’t say it’s easy to do this, but it can be done. We can collectively name hundreds of female bodybuilders from all across the world who can testify to this.

Another aspect to female bodybuilding that’s important to realize is the independent nature of the sport. Unlike team sports like baseball, football (the one that features tackling, throwing, and catching), basketball, hockey, soccer, rugby, and others, bodybuilding isn’t a sport that consists of teams, teammates, and being dependent upon others to win games. It’s solely on the shoulders of each individual athlete.

Of course, it deserves to be said that every single top-level bodybuilder – male or female – has a large team of coaches, trainers, nutritional experts, doctors, and assistants who aid them on their journey to becoming an elite competitor. No man is an island, and perhaps no woman is an island either. So a female bodybuilder isn’t completely paddling a single canoe. But there’s no denying that bodybuilding is ruggedly individualistic in nature. The panel of judges that decides who wins and who doesn’t win only looks at the individual competitors, not who they have standing in their corner cheering them on.

Muhammad Ali is known as the greatest boxer of all time – not Muhammad Ali and his army of personal trainers, physicians, sparring partners, promoters, advisors, and so on. Though every top athlete has help from a team of professionals, but only one person is in the ring fighting against his or her opponent. And the last time I checked, Ali was the only one in that ring staring down his hapless challenger.

Bodybuilders of all stripes understand this reality intuitively. If they make a mistake, they alone must answer for it. They can’t blame a lazy teammate, idiotic coaching, or an overall poor supporting cast for being a perpetual loser. They only have themselves to blame if they placed 3^rd at last year’s competition but 10^th this year. That drop-off can have plenty of rational explanations (biased judging being a prominent one), but at the end of the day every single competitor is responsible for their own training, progress, dieting, and outcomes.

Which leads us to the next point…

Female bodybuilders aren’t striving to achieve a goal that exists only in the abstract. Rather, they bust their tails every day of their lives working toward a goal that’s specific, tangible, measurable, attainable, and very damn difficult to meet. There’s an element of poetic beauty integral to this reality, isn’t there?

If a new and up-and-coming female athlete looks at photos of Alina Popa, Debi Laszewski or Brigita Brezovac and says to herself, “I want to look like that one day,” guess what? She can! Granted, it won’t be easy and the journey from Point A to Point B will be arduous, tumultuous, and full of plenty of doubt. But nevertheless, one cannot deny that the goal can be met if she sets her mind to it and educates herself on what is necessary to get there.

Annie Rivieccio earns my vote for "Best Bicep Peak." — Annie Rivieccio earns my vote for “Best Bicep Peak.”

Unlike politicians who promise big and bold achievements that probably aren’t realistic and only will set their constituents up for disappointment, a female bodybuilder has a distinct goal in mind that’s specific and can accurately be visualized ahead of time. It doesn’t exist in a theoretical universe that looks great on paper or in a rousing speech but doesn’t actually work in real life. Bodybuilding is a sport where end results aren’t achieved by dumb luck or happenstance. It materializes when an athlete makes a definitive decision to take specific action toward achieving a precise goal.

Nobody will argue that it’ll be easy to look like Lisa Cross or Rene Campbell. That high degree of muscularity doesn’t come easily. But one cannot also argue that such objectives are impossible. They are quite possible to meet, albeit after one is eager to dramatically reorganize one’s lifestyle.

Point B isn’t a hypothetical reality that exists only in one’s mind. Building an impressive level of muscle mass is a concrete end that arises after participating in concrete means. Gaining x number of pounds of muscle or placing in the top five of a certain bodybuilding contest are measurable and quantifiable aims that are either achieved or not achieved. There is no middle ground. There is no ambiguity. Either it happened or it didn’t. Period.

And who is to blame if one sets out to gain bigger biceps and triceps and fails? You guessed it. The person who established these goals in the first place and nobody else.

One other facet of female bodybuilders that must be addressed is the fact that FBBs are, for the most part, not worried about being popular or widely accepted by society. A woman who chooses to pursue bodybuilding in any serious manner is opening herself up to a variety of different kinds of obstacles – many of which she would not face had she not decided to become a bodybuilder.

It’s no mystery that a woman with big muscles is an unusual sight to see. Simply put, these women are rare in our world. Yet, a small number of remarkable women are actively working to build big muscles despite the potential backlash that might come with it. Many will receive looks of repulsion or disgust. Accusations of being “too manly” or “becoming a man” will start to flood in. There will be those who will ask her “do you have to get that big?” Others will question her life choices and wonder if she’s hiding something.

But no matter what comes her way, a female bodybuilder must be tough-minded and relentless in the pursuit of her dreams. She must endure people looking at her differently. She must accept the fact trolls on the Internet will post nasty remarks about her. She knows the road to becoming a pro bodybuilder will be strenuous…but she does it regardless. That’s not easy to do. There aren’t too many of us in this world who are capable of breaking all those barriers, jumping over all those hurdles, and trudging through all those obstacles when the easier road is to not pursue bodybuilding in the first place.

She does what she wants to do knowing it won’t be popular with everyone. Yes, she will meet people along the way who will support her, but certainly that won’t be everybody. Doing the right thing – following your dreams – despite outside noise takes emotional and intellectual fortitude. Do you honestly believe some of our elected representatives share that same level of internal strength?

Catherine Holland could start a nuclear war over her physique.

The final point I’ll make (although I could go on further) is that a female bodybuilder possesses a deep understanding of how the world works and must apply this knowledge practically in the quest of her chosen profession. She needs to be an entrepreneur, agent, marketer, business manager, scheduler, public relations specialist, nutritionist, athletic trainer, and personal ambassador all at the same time. As a small fish in a big pond, an FBB’s success or failure wholly depends upon how well she understands her circumstances and how she can cultivate an accomplished career from it (or despite it).

In this respect, female bodybuilders earn what’s coming to them. They aren’t “given” success. Nobody votes for them to have large muscles or a chiseled physique. They have to expel blood, sweat, and tears day in and day out to achieve their bodies. Granted, a panel of judges does elect how she places at a competition, but that’s an exception. For the most part, she wouldn’t have been able to reach that point of being on that stage unless she put in the hard work beforehand. Besides, actual competing is only a small part of the rewards that come from bodybuilding.

The biggest reward is the personal satisfaction of knowing that you’ve accomplished something grand. Nobody can take that away from you. Your opponents may have more trophies than you, but what every single competitor has is the sense of triumphant pride that comes with pursuing a goal with manic obsession. Truly, an FBB earns her success. That’s how the real world operates.

Presidents, prime ministers, senators, representatives, governors, MPs, city councilmembers, mayors, and other positions of elected authority do not always share these same traits. It seems rather odd to have a system where the power to regulate, tax, create new laws, authorize war, or incarcerate citizens are given to people who get that job simply by winning a glorified popularity contest. Very strange, indeed. But, that’s the system we have until something better replaces it.

Here in the United States of America, we give the nuclear codes to people we wouldn’t trust to manage the local Burger King. We trust those who’ve never ran a business to regulate businesses. We ask people who’ve never served in the military to send young men and women they’ve never met to a foreign country and die for an ambiguous cause. To summarize, we elect people who don’t understand how the world works to decide how the world works.

Insanity.

However, ask I’ve just articulated, a female bodybuilder does understand how the world works. She has to in order to survive. She must understand how to relate to people. She knows what it’s like to be a businesswoman…because she essentially is a one-woman business. She does what she does regardless of how unpopular it might make her. At the end of the day, a female bodybuilder shares these characteristics:

Mental toughness
Adaptability
Entrepreneurial savviness
Focus
Intelligence
Knowledgeable about the real world
Grit
Strength – both physical and emotional
Ability to earn her success
Independence

As I’ve said before, the list can go on and on. But you get the idea. I’m not suggesting that we should actually elect current or former female bodybuilders to high positions of political power just because they happen to be current or former FBBs. However, what I do want to illustrate is that FBBs boast a unique perspective on life that cannot be easily replicated or transferred.

I'd appoint Nikki Fuller as my Secretary of Muscle. — I’d appoint Nikki Fuller as my Secretary of Muscle.

She’s earned her success. She’s forged her own path. She’s self-taught herself topics in areas like calisthenics, biology, science, nutrition, sports medicine, etc. She lives in an environment that can be cruel and adversarial toward her. She knows how to persevere through obstacles and come out better for it. She must adapt to her surroundings…or die refusing to do so.

That’s not an easy thing to do. It’s not for everyone. Certainly not people who’ve existed in an Ivy League-encrusted silver spoon-fed bubble for their entire lives. As Americans go to the polls on November 8 they should ask themselves, “How the hell did we get here in the first place?” It’s a perfectly valid question; one that doesn’t have any easy answers.

But perhaps the answer is simple. We, as a nation, don’t value the right things. We value what we want to hear, not what we should hear. We live in a fantasy world full of bright shiny objects, not in the real world where decisions have actual consequences.

Female bodybuilders, on the other hand, do not get to live in such a magical universe. They must always be on their toes. They cannot get lazy or entitled. They must continuously grind in order to reach the Promised Land – which nobody actually promised them at all. In short, female bodybuilders represent humanity at its best. FBBs don’t make empty promises about what they think they’ll do. They actually do it every single day of their lives.

I’d vote for that.

The Erotic Dreams of Max Shimura: Episode Four – Double Dare (part two of two)

Can you imagine going to the beach and seeing Tonia Moore stretching out?

Later that afternoon, Max and Marie leave the beach and decide to explore the town a little more. Perusing through shops, street vendors and other obvious tourist traps; people still could not help but stop and stare at this very unorthodox couple.

“Holy shit! She’s huge! I mean, look at her muscles!” one passerby whispers to his friend.

“Lucky guy to be with a buff beauty like her!” another pedestrian remarks to no one in particular.

“Mommy! Is that a boy or a girl?” an innocent little girl asks her mother. The mother had no response other than dropping her jaw at the sight of Marie’s bulging biceps.

Wearing a tight fitting pink sundress and sandals, Marie shows no shame or hesitation in displaying her large muscles for everyone to see. In fact, she wants the whole world to see her hard work in plain view. She gets a tingling sensation deep within her soul every time complete strangers do nothing but stare at her in awe.

It is this sensation that Max cleverly knew to exploit.

“I’m thirsty. Shall we get something to drink?” Max suggests. Strolling through an art pawn shop, Max was quickly losing interest in walking around town doing nothing. He wanted a change of pace. Marie senses Max’s insistence to do something different.

“Are you about to give me my dare?” she casually asks.

“Maybe…” he begins, “maybe not. We’ll see. Follow me, my love.” Max and Marie link arms and leave the art shop. The shop owner’s eyes were as big as dinner plates as he watches Marie’s sexy muscular body walk out of his establishment.

“Let’s get some shaved ice. Over there!” Max says.

Minutes later, Max and Marie were heading back to their hotel (they coincidentally booked the same hotel) enjoying a cup of fruity shaved ice. Max is almost done as they approach the front steps of the hotel. Marie is only halfway finished because she could not stop talking about the deliciousness of this exquisite dessert.

“God, this is amazing! I almost never eat any sweets. The bodybuilding lifestyle doesn’t allow for too much sugars or candies. This is heavenly, Max. Great suggestion!” By now Marie has completely finished her shaved ice. She tosses the paper cup into a nearby trash bin. Max follows suit and does the same.

Cabo looks like such a great vacation spot.

“Alright. Now what?” Marie enthusiastically asks. She grabs Max by the waist and brings him closer to her body. Her musky smell turns on Max. As if their previous coupling on the beach wasn’t enough to satiate him, he still desired her unlike any man has ever desired any woman. He knew what happens next will test the limits of his uncontrollable craving for her.

“You want to know what’s next? I have my dare for you. Are you ready to hear this?”

Marie excitedly perks up when she hears this. She takes Max’s hands into hers and kisses him softly on the lips. The sweet aftertaste of the shaved ice sends shivers down his spine. He feels his manhood awaken. She notices the beginnings of dampness forming between her long, thick legs.

“Yes. I’m ready. Tell me what to do.” She kisses him again, this time playfully biting his upper lip.

“I dare you to walk from here to the end of the street and back,” Max begins, pointing toward the busy boulevard full of pedestrians and bicyclists, “…completely naked.”

He smiles. She blinks.

“Are you serious? You want me to walk a good seven or eight blocks…totally in the nude?”

“Yes. I am being one hundred percent serious. You dared me to fuck you in public, right? Well, now I dare you to stroll down this busy street wearing nothing but your birthday suit.” Max notices Marie is wearing nothing but her dress, panties and sandals. Getting her completely nude would not be a problem. It’s convincing her to go through with it that will.

“I, uh…well, I don’t know about this…er…” Marie stumbles through her words. She cannot think of a reason to refuse.

“What are you unsure about? We’re on vacation. Nobody knows who we are. Even if they did, think about all the free publicity this little stunt would generate. Besides, you even told me yourself. You’re proud of your body. You want everyone to look at your body. Now this is your chance.” He returns the favor and kisses her. Max also nibbles on her upper lip. She blinks once more.

Marie stops to think. She’s seriously contemplating Max’s dare. He’s right. She’s very damn proud of her body. What does she have to hide? Is she ashamed of herself? Of course not! She’s very fucking proud of who she is and all the strenuous hard work she’s done to get her body to look this way. Forget decency! This isn’t the time or the place for that!

“Alright. Agreed. I’ll do it. Will you join me?”

“That’s not part of the deal!”

“I know. I’m just asking,” Marie says. Max considers.

“We’ll see.”

She laughs. He laughs too. But before he knew it, Marie impulsively pulls off her dress, drops her panties to the ground and kicks off her sandals. She picks everything up and hands them to Max. He quickly finds a nearby bush and hides her clothing behind it. He turns around and looks at this gorgeous muscular wearing absolutely nothing. Her stunning figure steals his breath. Already a few hotel employees stop dead in their tracks and stare at her. What is this beautiful female bodybuilder doing standing around completely nude in broad daylight? Is she out of her mind? What the hell is going on here?!

Before the hotel employees could process what they were staring at, Marie begins her triumphant promenade down the busy street. Passerby cars stop to look at her. A bicyclist nearly runs into a utility pole. A dozen or so pedestrians freeze at the mere sight of her. Marie’s immense sexual power emanates from her entire being. Max is enjoying every minute of it.

“Take a look at me, Cabo!” Marie screams from the top of her lungs. Max giggles uncontrollably. More cars stop in the middle of a green light as Marie crosses the intersection. Motorists start to honk their horns until they discover what all the fuss is about. People speaking Spanish yell at her thing she couldn’t understand. A few whistles and hoots are heard from all directions. More pedestrians stop cold and are powerless to resist looking at her.

Voices everywhere seemingly scream all at once:

“What the fuck is going on here?”

“Is that a man? No, it’s a fucking chick! And she’s naked, bro! Look!”

“Holy shit! There’s a buff chick walking down the street! What the fuck?”

“Look, look, look at that! Check out that muscular girl! Holy fuck, she’s naked! And really buff!”

“Wow! Holy hell, that’s one gorgeous woman. Wow!!!”

“Dude, dude! Check it out! Seriously, over there! Who is that?”

“WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUCK????????????!!!!!!!!!!”

Marie has reached past the first intersection and is now walking down the next block. Max follows closely behind so to not attract too much attention. He smiles at the sense of joyful rebellion Marie is demonstrating at the moment: Uncaring about what people think about her, proud of her body and not afraid to show it off in all its primal glory for all to see (whether they like it or not). Nothing turns on Max more than witnessing this majestic display of open defiance.

Moments later, Marie stops at a busy cross street and poses for camera phone pictures. A few tourists with professional-quality cameras get down on one knee and take more “artistic” photographs. There may have been a camera crew shooting a low-grade beer commercial that stopped what they were doing and pointed their cameras at her instead. A large group has developed around her. It seems like everyone in Cabo at the moment is crowding around this street to take a peek at Marie’s divine nude muscular body.

Her delts, biceps, triceps, pecs, quads, hamstrings, glutes, calves, abdomen, forearms and sharply defined muscle striations were the talk of the town. No one could keep their eyes off of her.

“Come on, Max! Join in on the fun!” Marie yells. Everyone turns toward Max and stares at him. They now realize he is with her. Is he her husband? Boyfriend? Or just a casual friend? The masses had to know!

“I don’t know…I mean…” Max stutters. He tries to resist joining her in this very public display of nudity, but a voice inside his head is telling him to unrepentantly give in.

“Max, Max, Max, Max!” Marie chants.

“Max! Max! Max! Max!” the crowd chants along.

Screw decency! Max decides to bite the bullet and do what the lady says.

As he strips off his shorts and t-shirt, the crowd goes wild with cheering and hollering. Down to his boxers, the chants of Max’s name grows louder and louder. The raucous noise is almost too much to bear. The deafening racket is almost painful to his ears. Finally, Max rips off his underwear and is completely nude. The crowd screams loudly as if Max had just hit the game winning home run in the World Series.

Marie holds out her hand. Max takes it unabashedly. Holding hands like old lovers, this unlikely couple poses for more impromptu photos and video. God, will his friends and family find out about this back home? Probably! But at this moment, he couldn’t care less about any of that. For now, all he could think about what himself and his Muscle Goddess friend.

The unconventional sight of a beautiful 47-year-old female bodybuilder holding hands with a 23-year-old scrawny Asian guy must be jarring to anyone not caught up in the heat of the moment. But for the time being, all anyone could care about was becoming part of this improvised street parade.

Max and Marie continue their walk down the street to complete his dare to her. Neither one of them knows what’s going to happen with his clothes. They’ll worry about that at a later time.

About ten to fifteen other people have joined the fun and stripped down naked as well. When in Rome, right?

“Why is she with this Asian guy? He has a small dick!” one drunk and obnoxious observer screamed at the top of his lungs.

Marie hears this and looks at Max. Max blushes, embarrassed at his penis’s shriveled appearance. The cool breeze sweeping over them isn’t making his manhood look too flattering! Immediately sensing his insecurity, Marie holds onto Max’s hand tighter and kisses him on the neck. Max’s heart warms like never before.

If I saw Nikki Fuller and Amber DeLuca engage in this type of activity in public, I'd definitely stop and stare. Wouldn't you? — If I saw Nikki Fuller and Amber DeLuca engage in this type of activity in public, I’d definitely stop and stare. Wouldn’t you?

At last, the parade reaches the end as Marie and Max can finally see the edge of the beach. The street ends and splits off into opposite directions parallel to the water. Their large crowd is still enthusiastically following them from behind. Some of the other naked followers have begun posing for pictures themselves. Others are making out and engaging in other not-so-subtle sexual activity.

“Well, this is the end. Shall we walk back?” Marie whispers into his ear.

“Nah. I like it out here. There’s a cool breeze. The sun is starting to set. Let’s stay out here for a few moments. Let’s enjoy what we have right now,” Max says.

After a few moments pass, Marie has an idea.

“Let’s show these people that I love being with you. Let’s show them what that small dick of yours can do!” she says.

This grabs Max’s attention. Is she being serious right now? Is she saying they should–

But before he could think another thought, Marie squats down and puts her mouth over Max’s penis and begins sucking on it. The crowd erupts in a round of applause. Stroking her tongue around the sensitive tip, Max’s manhood is now fully engorged and ready for anything.

Marie lies down on a grassy area and spreads her legs wide. The crowd circles around them. As if on an entirely different planet, Max ignores his surroundings and plunges his “small dick” inside her. She moans loudly, perhaps a little too loudly, just to prove a point. She wants everyone to know that Max is a man, perhaps more of a man than anybody watching them!

As Max passionately makes love to Marie, several other couples follow suit, just like back at the beach earlier in the day. Good Lord, is everyone down here in Cabo San Lucas this horny and unhinged?

They kiss. They fondle each other’s bodies. Max cups her breasts and rubs her six-pack abs. He greedily explores every muscular inch of her perfectly sculpted body. Marie’s cartoonish moans turn to real moans of pleasure as she tightens her vagina around him. She wants them to come at the same time right in front of all these watching people. She doesn’t care if the entire world sees these videos go viral. She wants the whole universe to know that she’s not ashamed to make love to this scrawny, small-dicked Asian guy!

The moans continue. Max feels he’s close. Marie knows she’s even closer. One final thrust later…and they both come together. He feels her strong vaginal walls contract around him as he recklessly spills his seed into her for a second time. Her hot heavy breath raises goosebumps all over his skin. A drop of sweat drips off him and falls on her neck.

Other couples have started to make love too, but Max and Marie are too busy staring into each other’s eyes. Max brushes a lock of hair away from her cheek. He kisses her deeply. Marie carefully pulls his penis out of her vagina and teases it with her fingers. He gasps uncontrollably. Max counters by stroking her massively swollen clitoris with his thumb and index finger, which eventually brings her to another orgasm. She wrestles with him in the grass as they laugh to their heart’s delight.

Eventually, they hear police sirens screeching in the distance. Someone has obviously told the cops that there is a rebellious couple walking around town as naked as the day they were born. Max and Marie snap out of their spell and run back to the hotel as fast as they can.

They laugh. They scream. They giggle. They find moments to kiss between dodging through cars and bicyclists.

Even when they arrive at the hotel, they still continue to sprint at full speed. The police are far from them, but this is a couple that doesn’t have a care in the world. They’ll keep running, and running, and running.

To where, exactly? That doesn’t matter.

All that matters is that they’re daring enough to do it.

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 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.

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

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 9^th 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!

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

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. 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!

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.

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

The lovely Ginger Martin. Once again, none of the ladies featured here is the woman I had a session with.

So there I was. Tuesday, May 21. Sitting at my desk, staring blankly at my computer screen.

I had a hard time concentrating at work. Getting stuff done was nearly impossible. My mind was somewhere else, far away from whatever I was supposed to be doing at my job.

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

Thursday at 7 p.m. Got it. But where? In Seattle? Or somewhere outside of Seattle?

But suddenly, while lounging around and superfluously passing the time, I receive a much anticipated e-mail from my personal account.

It’s from GFBB! Yes!!!

Up to this point, I felt like GFBB and I have developed good e-mail chemistry, if such a thing is possible. We’ve communicated clearly back and forth, there’s been no misunderstandings (wiring the deposit money into her account went smoothly) and she’s even cracked a joke or two toward me. It definitely appears as though this arrangement is starting off on the right foot.

I’m guessing she probably gets a lot of creepy messages from random guys (and ladies) asking her to do some ridiculous things. Fetish activities, threesomes, choking (to the point of near death), posing for photos/videos, role playing and probably even straight up sex. So it was refreshing to hear that she thinks of this as less of a “sexual” arrangement and more of a “business-like” proposition.

Kathy Johansson wearing very sexy red lingerie.

Her e-mail message lets me know which hotel she’s staying at during her Seattle stop. And guess what? The hotel is less than three miles away from my apartment! Holy cow! She’s staying within a stone’s throw of where I live. This definitely bodes well.

GFBB gives me her phone number and tells me to text her when I arrive at the hotel. Alright, gotcha. I can do that.

The next two days flew by quicker than a Tokyo bullet train running away from Godzilla. I decided to take a “sick day” that Thursday because I don’t want any distractions leading up to this session. I work fairly far away from my apartment and there are times when really bad traffic, combined with terrible weather, can make my commute long and arduous. I didn’t want any emotional or physical disruptions on the day of my first ever session with a gorgeous female bodybuilder. So it seemed clear to me that being “ill” that day was justifiable.

I woke up on Thursday morning feeling fresh and alive. Butterflies weren’t swarming in my stomach yet, but I could definitely tell there was a certain electrical charge flowing through my system. Let’s face it; this doesn’t happen all the time. And a guy is totally allowed to be nervous in anticipation of his first time, right?

Shawn Tan is tall, elegant, beautiful and sexy as hell. Can we all agree?

I ate breakfast and headed out to the gym to work out. I understand I could never look as amazing as GFBB, but it never hurts to get a good workout in to get my blood flowing and to calm my nerves. I don’t normally to go the gym on afternoons, so I saw a whole different crowd than I’m used to seeing. Mostly retired folks and stay-at-home-moms.

It was leg day. Yuck.

On the agenda for the day were squats, lunges and other leg machine exercises. During my entire workout all I could think about was me – yours truly – stroking GFBB’s strong legs, caressing her biceps and fondling her breasts. Judging from pictures I’ve seen of her, she definitely has a bountiful pair of breasts. This is without a doubt something I was looking forward to experiencing!

The gorgeous Kathy Connors demonstrating the nerdy/sexy dynamic.

After my grueling workout (leg day is always grueling. Just ask anyone who actually does it!), I then walked over to the grocery store across the street from the gym. At the store I bought a nice bottle of wine to give to her as a gift. I figure it’s the least I can do to demonstrate how thankful I am that she’s willing to let me have a session with her. I then went to the bank in the same complex to withdraw the rest of the money I need to pay her.

Upon returning home, it suddenly hit me. I’m about to participate in my first ever session with a gorgeous female bodybuilder. Don’t get me wrong; I know I’m about to do this (I’ve had this planned for at least a month), but it wasn’t until this moment, with a bottle of wine and an envelope full of cash in my possession, that it really started to sink in.

I lay on my bed and tried to think of nothing. Not think about playing hooky from work. Not think about whether this session will be a disappointment or not. Not think about what she’ll think of me once she meets me. Not even think about what I’ll eat for dinner after the session is over. I tried to think of nada, nothing, zilch.

But I couldn’t. I had butterflies dancing in my stomach (they were probably participating in a drunken rave by now), my blood pressure skyrocketing through the roof and enough nervous energy of fifty chorus girls making their Broadway debut. I had to do something in the next hour to pass the time…

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

So, I did. You can read it here.

After publishing this new post, I looked at my phone and saw it was a little after 6 p.m. My appointment with GFBB is at 7 p.m. The venue is less than three miles away. I could get there in ten minutes. Theoretically, I could leave here at 6:30 and still be early. But darn it, I have to leave now! All this fiddling around is making me go insane.

Besides, what if I get a flat tire? What if my car magically runs out of gas? What if there’s some catastrophic accident on the road that will delay me for forty minutes? Yes, I should leave now just to play it safe.

Damn. Logic has completely left my brain. All that’s left are nothing but an aching libido and flaming nerves. I should definitely leave now or risk suffering a subdural hematoma right here in my apartment.

It never hurts to show a picture of Kim Perez, does it? No, it certainly doesn't. — It never hurts to show a picture of Kim Perez, does it? No, it certainly doesn’t.

Before departing, I check my e-mail one last time to make sure I have her room number. Room 132. Okay…I’ve looked at Google Maps enough times to know where this hotel is like the back of my hand, so I’m golden on that front.

Alright. Time to go!

No more than twelve minutes later, I’m sitting in the parking lot of the hotel where GFBB is staying. Yikes! This shit is getting real! And to think that this Beautiful Muscle Goddess is a within shouting distance of where I live. Hot damn. I feel like a teenage girl about to meet a heartthrob pop star for the first time. If my voice starts to squeak indeterminately and I get the sudden urge to pass out, I’ll know why.

What time is it? Hmmmmmm…6:19.

6:20.

6:21.

6:22.

6:23.

6:24.

Holy hell. Could time move any slower?!!!

Seriously. Time could not move fast enough. As I sat there, in my car, on an overcast day in the Pacific Northwest, I began to think: Is she with a client right now at this moment? If not, could I text her right now and perhaps get a good fifteen or twenty minutes of extra session time with her? Speaking of which, is she a clock-watcher or is she very loose with how long these things last? Am I her last appointment of the day or does she have three or four other horny guys scheduled later this evening? Could some of her other clients be sitting in their cars right now, twiddling their thumbs, just like me? What if–

You know what? Screw it! I’m going to text her. I know it’s early (by the time I make this decision, it’s about 6:45), but what the hell? I’m here, aren’t I? I was told to text her just as soon as I got here, so I might as well follow along with her directions.

Nikki Fuller is one of my all-time favorites. Need I explain why?

So, I texted her to let her know I was here.

A few moments later, she replies, saying “Ok u can come to my room now.”

Well, if the lady says so…

I got out of my car, locked the door and made the “long” trek (it felt long, okay!!!) to the entrance of the hotel. Thankfully, there weren’t a whole lot of people around, except for an older Asian couple who looked as though they just arrived in town. I quickly entered the hotel, intentionally avoided making eye contact with the front desk staff and took a sharp right turn toward her room.

On one hand, I want to look like I belonged here; but on the other hand, if they don’t remember me, would they ask me what business I had being here? Better play it safe and speed walk while keeping my head down. It probably isn’t too often when a random dude comes in to their premises to meet a strange woman for a sexually-charged muscle worship session.

Walking down the long corridor, complete with a dark red carpet and Seattle-themed artwork, I decided to use the bathroom before knocking on her door. Whenever I get really nervous, I get the urge to pee. Better do it now versus wasting time later using the toilet during my session!

This is Sarah Hayes. Baby got back, n'est-ce pas? — This is Sarah Hayes. Baby got back, n’est-ce pas?

Minutes later, I left the bathroom and proceeded forward to meet my Fate. I felt like a death row inmate making his last trip down the prison hallway before being electrocuted. Overdramatic? Of course. But if there’s ever an occasion to be unapologetically theatrical, now is the time.

I stood in front of room #132 and took a deep breath. This is it, Ryan. This is the moment you get to meet up close and personal (and hopefully, get really personal later on) with a famous female bodybuilder who’s strong, gorgeous, accomplished, well-regarded and amicable. This is it, buddy!

Another deep breath.

Exhale.

Extend hand.

Make a fist.

Knock on the door.

Wait.

The door then opens.

It creeks open ominously, almost romantically, as if I were a lost prince exploring a magical castle in a Disney movie.

I peeked my head inside to see who opened the door. Is it her? Is it–

And there she is.

There she is.

There. She. Is.

THERE. SHE. IS.

Holy cow. Holy mother of mercy. Wow!

I only have one word to describe this moment:

…

Damn.

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

Asian Boy and Muscle Girl

When you imagine "Muscle Girl," think about Nikki Fuller. — When you imagine “Muscle Girl,” think about Nikki Fuller.

Asian Boy was obsessed with Her. He couldn’t stop thinking about Her. Every night he fantasized about Her. The thought of Her beautiful muscular body grinding against his tiny, scrawny Asian body drove him wild with ecstasy.

Tonight is no exception. Asian Boy is in his apartment watching his favorite video of Her: a crudely shot YouTube video of Her pumping iron at the gym wearing nothing but a bright green bikini.

You can see every inch of Her magnificent body. The bikini leaves little to the imagination.

He can see every drip of sweat streak down Her thick muscled body. He stares in awe as She bench presses 315, squats 405 and deadlifts 500. He watches Her pose for the camera after Her strenuous workout – every muscle on Her divine body glistening, a valuable piece of art in the flesh.

Asian Boy has seen this video hundreds of times. It never gets old. To his misfortune, this is the only video he could find of Her. He’s searched everywhere for another. But so far he’s found nothing.

God, She’s the most gorgeous woman on the planet! Asian Boy is completely enamored by a woman he’s never met. But, in a strange way, he feels a powerful connection to Her. There’s something about the way She looks into the camera that convinces Asian Boy She’s looking specifically at him.

He knows this is crazy, but he knows it’s true.

The woman’s name is Michelle. No last name is given. She’s a professional bodybuilder and powerlifter. She’s competed in contests around the globe. No other information exists about Her.

Where does She live? How old is She? How did She get into weightlifting? What kind of grueling training regimen does She follow in order to develop Her phenomenal muscle mass?

Michelle is a Divine Muscle Goddess of spectacular proportions. The video description details her measurements:

Height: 6’6”
Weight: 267 lbs.
Biceps: 21 inches.
Calves: 19 inches.
Quadriceps: 30 inches.

Wow. Can you believe it? She’s a BEAST. She puts male bodybuilders to shame with Her incredible measurements.

Michelle, Michelle, Michelle. Every Google search turns up nothing. He’s tried “Michelle female bodybuilder,” “Michelle powerlifter,” “Michelle muscle woman,” “Michelle female bodybuilder and powerlifter.”

He’s tried them all. But nothing comes close to finding Her.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It’s like She doesn’t exist.

But he knows She exists. She has to.

For now, Asian Boy is preoccupied watching a six and a half minute video he’s seen over and over again. He’s memorized every single frame. He’s hopelessly obsessed with this Powerful Muscle Angel. She’s blonde, exceptionally tall, looks to be between 40 and 50 years old and is entirely covered from head to toe with incredibly bulging, rippling muscles.

Asian Boy wouldn’t be surprised if She could bend a crowbar with Her bare hands or rip a phone book in half. Asian Boy could imagine Her doing a whole host of amazing feats of strength.

The video ends. But he wants more of Her. He can’t get enough of Her. He decides to watch it again.

The video starts from the top. Muscle Girl is back at it – bench pressing ten strenuous repetitions till She’s completely out of breath with sweat dripping out of every pore of Her heavenly body.

Asian Boy knows he’ll never be able to make love to a woman like Muscle Girl. Michelle must have countless men clamoring to be with Her. She must have a husband who’s without a doubt the luckiest man on Earth. He’s privileged to be with the most beautiful and strongest woman on the planet.

Asian Boy often fantasized about what it would be like to make love to Muscle Girl. The video half over, Asian Boy closes his eyes and lets his imagination take off…

Dusk.

A secluded beach house on an exotic Caribbean island.

Asian Boy and Muscle Girl enter the house after a long walk on the sandy beach. After a hot and humid 97 degree day, the evening has cooled off considerably.

Muscle Girl stands at least a foot taller than Asian Boy, but Asian Boy feels absolutely no insecurity. Muscle Girl is at least 25 years older than Asian Boy, but She feels no qualms about Her age. She’s embraced Her age and understands it’s only a number. At heart, She’s still a young free-spirited woman.

Muscle Girl just won the Ms. Olympia bodybuilding competition for the twelfth year in a row and continues to break world records at a staggering rate. Considered the greatest professional bodybuilder and powerlifter of all time, Muscle Girl has the unquestioned respect of every man and woman in the business.

She’s gained endorsement contracts, movie deals and is an international celebrity. People around the globe admire Muscle Girl’s massive size, unparalleled physical strength, supermodel-like beauty, stark femininity and undisputed greatness.

She’s out-lifted male athletes and bodybuilders. Feminists and social critics praise Her as shattering the stereotype that women are the weaker sex. Muscle Girl is admired for being a woman who, through self-determination and iron will, can achieve anything.

Muscle Girl has become a social icon, a symbol, a cultural warrior.

But none of that matters now. Little does the outside world know that Muscle Girl’s heart belongs to the most unlikely fellow: a short, skinny soft-spoken Asian American young man named Jonathan. Muscle Girl and Asian Boy have dated for almost a year without the paparazzi or even their own families knowing about it.

They prefer their secret relationship stay that way.

But they’re not ashamed of their love. On the contrary, Muscle Girl and Asian Boy would not hesitate to publicly profess their undying love for each other…except they don’t want the perils of fame and fortune getting in the way of their passionate relationship.

Both will admit the jarring contrast between the two: A short, nerdy Asian boy dating a large, tall powerful muscular woman. They turn heads when they’re seen in public together. But they could care less what people think. All they care about is the love they have for each other.

The beach house belongs to a friend of Muscle Girl, some rich Hollywood executive. He let Muscle Girl and Asian Boy borrow the house for the week. This unorthodox couple has spent their time exploring the island, eating the local food, exercising at the local gyms, swimming in the Caribbean Sea, soaking up the sun and…

Most of all, their favorite pastime: making love.

Asian Boy and Muscle Girl make love constantly and passionately, the internal fire burning inside them refusing to die. When they join together their bodies become one; two unlikely lovers becoming whole.

Upon returning to the beach house, Muscle Girl takes a shower while Asian Boy starts a fire in the fireplace. He pours two glasses of champagne and grabs a fruit platter out of the refrigerator. He then sits and reflects on how they came to this point.

They met when Asian Boy was working as a freelance photographer. One day Muscle Girl was in town to promote Her new line of health clubs. Asian Boy was assigned to snap a few photos of this international celebrity. When they met, it was magic. Muscle Girl was wearing a sports bra and shorts. Asian Boy stood there watching Her, clutching his camera toward his chest. Their eyes met. They knew they had connected on a metaphysical level. She came to him. He said something to Her. She laughed.

The rest, as they say, is history.

When the shower stops, Asian Boy turns around. Sure enough, right on cue, Muscle Girl walks out wearing nothing but a white towel around her torso.

Asian Boy’s heart stops, as it always does.

Though he’s seen Her naked thousands of times, Her magnificent body never fails to steal his breath. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get accustomed to seeing Michelle’s Goddess figure in all its glory.

Muscle Girl: “You poured two glasses of champagne.”

Asian Boy: “Yes, one for me and one for you. Here you go, darling.”

Muscle Girl: “Thank you, lover.”

She takes a sip of Her champagne and sighs deeply. She’s been under a lot of stress lately and desperately needed this vacation to relax and unwind.

Asian Boy: “You never cease to amaze me. You look absolutely gorgeous. Beautiful beyond words.”

Muscle Girl: “Thank you, lover. You look amazing, too.”

He blushes, knowing he’s light years away from looking as great as Her. Sensing his insecurity, Muscle Girl puts the glass of champagne down on the bedside table and approaches Asian Boy slowly. She wraps her thick, strong arms around him and embraces him tightly, communicating Her undying love for him.

They share a long fervent kiss, a spiritual exchange of affection that makes his heart race. She has to look down to meet his lips. He has to look up and stand on his toes.

When they come apart, they stare intimately into each other’s eyes. They know what’s next. Asian Boy opens a window and lets a cool breeze enter. Muscle Girl turns off the lights and allows the fire’s celestial glow to fill the room.

Asian Boy begins to remove his clothing as he has often done in front of Her. Muscle Girl lets the bath towel drop and pool around Her feet, revealing her nude form.

She’s as tall as a basketball player and as thick as a wrestler. She’s a natural blonde with faint traces of white hair mixed in between. Her legs are long and as thick as tree trunks. Her arms bulge in every direction, Her pumped biceps as big as cantaloupes. Her shoulders stretch at least a yard across. Her back is covered with layers and layers of mounds of pure muscle. Her abdomen proudly shows off Her swollen six-pack, a jaw-dropping reminder that Her strong chiseled core could take a punch from a heavyweight prize fighter and not break. Her skin is tanned and rough as leather. At 48 years old, Her age lines and wrinkles do nothing to distract from Her perfectly proportioned face.

She has the body of a Greek goddess, the face of a supermodel, the will power of a marathon runner and the intelligence of an Ivy League professor. It’s by no mistake that She’s the wealthiest female athlete in the world. Her business savvy and unequaled physical strength is the reason why She’s a superstar celebrity. No doubt She’s the most beautiful and intelligent woman he’s ever met.

Asian Boy: “You look divine. I love the way the light from the fire casts shadows across your muscular body. Amazing.”

Muscle Girl: “You’re too kind, lover. Way too kind! Here, let me help you with that.”

Muscle Girl reaches down and unzips Asian Boy’s pants. She pulls down his underwear to reveal his erection, hot and ready for her. Asian Boy knows he isn’t gifted with a large endowment, but that never gets in the way of their lovemaking. She insists size doesn’t matter to Her. Even though he knows She would never lie to him, a small part of him still feels insecure.

Once Asian Boy removes his last article of clothing, hand in hand the two lovers walk to the bed and lie down. Their hands ravenously explore each other’s bodies, touching with finesse and familiarity. He toys with Her nipples, making them stand at attention. She reaches down and strokes his thighs, making him want Her more. They kiss, savoring every single taste.

The tip of his penis brushes slightly against Her six-pack abs. He lets out a soft moan, telling Her he’s more than ready. But She doesn’t want him to enter Her yet. She wants to take this leisurely and enjoy the moment.

Muscle Girl grabs the fruit platter and takes a small sip of Her champagne.

Muscle Girl: “Place the fruit across my body.”

Asian Boy does so without saying a word.

One by one, he places thinly sliced pieces of mango, papaya and pineapple across Her buff body. He puts two blueberries on top of her sensitive nipples and a slice of watermelon across Her wet vulva. He reaches down and tenderly strokes Her enlarged two inch-long clitoris. After years of taking synthetic male hormones, Muscle Girl’s feminine parts grew to superhuman proportions. Unexpectedly, her clitoris expanded by an unbelievable two inches. She refers to this as Her “little penis.”

Asian Boy, constantly taunted by society for having a tiny penis, feels intimidated that a woman could have such an endowment. But he continues to stroke Her little penis and gets down to taste between Her legs.

Muscle Girl: “I like this, lover. I like this a lot.”

Asian Boy puts Her little penis into his mouth and sucks on it joyfully. Muscle Girl chews on a piece of papaya while he satisfies Her. She gags as she comes, a powerful orgasm ripping through Her body. Asian Boy feels the whole bed shake as Her vagina contracts wildly in response.

Minutes later, Asian Boy and Muscle Girl eat all the fruit off Her body. She decides foreplay is over.

Muscle Girl: “Enter me, lover.”

Muscle Girl, now on Her back, spreads Her legs wide for him. Asian Boy grips Her hips, positioning the head of his penis onto Her vulva and enters Her with a single thrust. Both lovers let out a moan as they connect at their most intimate parts, a transcendental form of communication only two perfect lovers could understand.

Slowly he rocks back and forth, building to what would be an earth-shattering climax. They stare into each other’s eyes, expressing a love so beautiful and perfect no two people would ever be able to replicate it. Every nerve ending in his manhood erupts with pleasure as he goes in and out of Her.

Finally, Asian Boy climaxes, emptying himself into Her, hot and sticky.

Muscle Girl, however, does not climax and is hungry for Her own orgasm. She gets up and reaches for the bedside drawer and takes out a nine inch long black dildo. Asian Boy grabs a bottle of lubricant and applies some onto the dildo’s daunting shaft. Muscle Girl leisurely inserts the dildo into Her vaginal canal, enjoying every inch of it. Asian Boy sits back and finishes his champagne.

Her breathing quickens as Her orgasm builds. He watches keenly, wondering if he should be jealous of this nine inch-long contraption. His concentration breaks as She climaxes for the second time, a small amount of feminine juice gushing from Her loins and staining the bed sheets. Muscle Girl, breathless and wheezing furiously, looks down at Her mess.

Muscle Girl: “Looks like I just wet the bed, huh?”

Asian Boy: “Yes you did! We can clean that up later.”

Muscle Girl takes the dildo out of Her womanhood and places it on top of the drawer. She looks at Asian Boy and immediately senses his feeling of emasculation. They live in a cruel world that relentlessly emasculates Asian men. She knows that and kisses him deeply, tasting his essence.

She guides his hands down, encouraging his fingers to enter Her. First, one finger was inside Her. Then two. Then three. Eventually, his entire fist is completely inside Her. She continues to kiss him as his fist pounds into Her, eventually delivering Her third orgasm. Muscle Girl lets out an uninhibited scream. Asian Boy removes his hand from Her vagina.

Muscle Girl finishes Her champagne and eats the last of the fruit, sweat beading on Her coarse skin. To complete the night, they decide to do something they’d only done a few times before.

Muscle Girl dabs a generous amount of lubricant on Asian Boy’s penis and tickles his scrotum. His erection returns. Muscle Girl turns around and gets down on Her hands and knees.

Muscle Girl: “Enter me again, lover. But you know where I want it.”

Asian Boy: “Yes, lover.”

Asian Boy puts his hands on Her bottom, admiring its shape. Then, he thrusts his entire manhood into Her anus, eliciting a throaty moan from both lovers.

Asian Boy: “Am I hurting you?”

Muscle Girl: “Yes, but I don’t care. Do it. I want you to.”

Asian Boy pushes in and out of Her, filling Her tightness with his small manhood. Her groans of pain become louder as his thrusting becomes faster. Both lovers let out a scream so loudly and passionately they could care less if the entire world hears them. To hell with the world.

Muscle Girl stifles a moan as Asian Boy climaxes for the second time that night, filling Her anal cavity with his seed. He immediately pulls out and kisses the back of Her neck. He falls on top of Her and they lay there motionless, their skin covered in sweat.

Muscle Girl: “I love you, Jonathan.”

Asian Boy: “I love you, Michelle.”

Muscle Girl and Asian Boy instantly fall into a peaceful slumber, the cool breeze from outside blanketing their bodies.

Asian Boy then wakes up. Not in the beach house, but in his apartment. Alone, he realizes he’d been dreaming. His computer screen is black and it’s nearly 3:00 a.m. He turns off the computer and rolls onto his side.

He can’t stop fantasizing about Her. He can’t stop imagining what it would be like to make love to a beautiful muscular woman like Her.

Asian Boy silently says a prayer to the Heavens, wishing Her good luck and sweet dreams. Once again, he couldn’t explain how he knew, but Asian Boy senses She heard his prayer. He knew, in a cosmic way, Muscle Girl heard all of his prayers.

His last thought before drifting off to sleep was a thankful wish to Her. Thank you for being a part of my life, he prays, even though She doesn’t know he exist. But he knows She exists, and that’s all that matters.

Goodnight, Muscle Girl.

Goodnight, Asian Boy.