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

Kathy Johansson, a strong black woman in the flesh.
Kathy Johansson, a strong black woman in the flesh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brigita Brezovac would definitely turn my head in a hurry.
Brigita Brezovac would definitely turn my head in a hurry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We’re also looking within at ourselves.

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Two – Lazy Saturday Afternoon Workout

I woke up Saturday morning with a massive erection that refused to go away. All throughout breakfast my penis remained as hard as a rock. What a way to begin a lazy Saturday.

All I could think about was her. Cindi North. Cindi North. Beautiful and gorgeous Cindi North.

Cindi North.

Who is this woman? I’ve never heard of her. I thought I was familiar with all the major FBBs, especially the ones who are local. When I finally rolled out of bed at 10:30 a.m., I switched on my computer and Googled her.

And what did I find? Nothing much.

There’s a Cindi North who’s a real estate agent in Tennessee. I don’t think it’s her. There’s a couple in Texas who recently gave birth to a daughter named Cindi North. That’s definitely not her. There are women named Cindy North, but none are even close to being an FBB (the one who comes closest is a Zumba instructor in San Diego). This does not sit right with me. Female bodybuilders are usually very searchable. I then tried Bing and Yahoo and still got the same results. What if I searched for her directly on bodybuilding websites?

Twenty minutes later, I still got nothing. Who is this woman? Is she even real? She has to be real. I know she’s real.

“Damn. Maybe I’m being delusional. She might not be real,” I say to myself.

I can’t deny the possibility that I’m being had by some jerk. Anyone can steal the image of an anonymous FBB and pretend it’s them. Anyone who’s even remotely computer literate can pose as someone else. Dammit! I’m being duped by some asshole on Craigslist!!!

This realization makes me both angry and devastated. I want to kick something and then bawl my eyes out.

Bawl my eyes out? Over someone who’s not even real? Shit, I’m getting desperate. This is what happens when you’re a 20-something virgin.

Huh? Have I not mentioned this yet? Yes, laugh all you want. I’m a virgin. A virgin. I’ve never had sex. My penis has never been inside a woman. That kind of virgin. I’m 23-years-old. Go ahead! Laugh. I’ll wait while you get it out of your system.

*Pause*

Okay, let’s resume.

Suddenly, it hit me. Maybe, just maybe, her real name is Cindi North but professionally she goes by something else. Of course! Plenty of female bodybuilders go by different names when they compete. She probably has a completely different identity that’s separate from “Cindi North.” That’s not outside the realm of possibility.

I hope that’s it. That has to be it. If not, I’m going to be disappointed all over again.

As I mentioned earlier, this is a dream come true. But a dream can shatter in an instant. As they say, if it’s too good to be true, it usually is. I hope this is an exception.

Now, on to video games.

I attempt to distract myself with Halo 3 and Call of Duty, but all I could see on the screen is her. I watch a few episodes of Family Guy. It helps temporarily, but I still can not get her out of my mind. I eat some leftover spaghetti and pack my gym bag. I think I should get a good workout in before dinner. That should prepare me for my chat tonight at 8 p.m.

To help me get in the mood for working out, I reopen Cindi’s picture and stare at it for a good two minutes.

Look at her body. Her thighs could crush a bowling ball. Her shoulders could lift a truck. Her abs look so delicious. I want this woman so badly!

Cindi North. Cindi North. Cindi North. Cindi North. Cindi North…

Great. My erection has returned. Let’s hope it disappears before I have to take off my pants.

I work out at Wellford Fitness Center, a local family-owned gym that’s been in existence for nearly half a century. The owner, Thomas Wellford, inherited the business from his mother, Eliza Wellford, a former Olympic bronze medalist weightlifter. Thomas is a nice man and hired me as a part-time janitor (I work early mornings Monday through Friday) after I started working out there a year ago. One perk from working at WFC is that I get to exercise there for free. I can even take all the Yoga and Zumba classes at no charge. This is something usually reserved for Gold Level members.

I can walk to the gym because it’s only six blocks away from my apartment. Onward!

Three minutes later, I stroll through the front doors and say hi to Michelle, the cute receptionist/personal trainer who usually mans the front desk on Saturdays.

“Hi Michelle.”

“Hey Ryan. What are you doing today? Legs? Arms?” she asks as she scans my membership card.

“Neither. Shoulders and chest,” I inform her as she hands the card back to me.

“My mistake. It’s lighter than usual today for some reason.”

“There’s a big game today. The Huskies are playing USC. The winner is guaranteed a spot in the Rose Bowl.”

“Oh. Who’s going to win?”

“Well, they don’t play until later today. I think the Trojans are going to win. Even though the game’s here, they have a more talented team.”

“We’ll definitely turn it on when the game starts. Enjoy your workout.”

“Thanks, Michelle.”

Michelle waves to me and immediately helps the next person in line, just as a professional should. She’s 36-years-old but looks 20. Michelle has beach blonde hair, large perky breasts and a very toned body you cannot help but stare at lustfully. Michelle is the type of person every woman hates. She’s gorgeous, looks 15 years younger than she actually is, has two children (ages 10 and 8, if my memory serves me correctly) and has a body that makes every man stop dead in his tracks. She recently divorced her husband when she discovered he was having an affair with another woman. I find this perplexing because how on earth can you possibly find a woman sexier than Michelle?

Her ex-husband is a typical musclehead jerk who spends way too much time at the gym (it’s no surprise that they met here) and does nothing but show off. I’ve met him many times and I think he’s the douchebag to end all douchebags. What did Michelle see in him?

Dan (he calls himself “Big Danny”) is definitely your stereotypical asshole who looks like a male model, treats people like garbage, but always keeps getting women. He’s fairly handsome, built like a linebacker, and, from what I’ve seen in the locker room shower, he’s hung like a horse.

Dan is the type of guy who parades around the locker room naked for long periods of time because he wants to show off his body to everybody. In addition to having way too much muscle, his very large penis does nothing to tame his ego. Maybe that’s what Michelle saw in him. A great roll in the hay.

Of course, Michelle would never date me. I’m the boring Asian guy nobody wants to hang out with except for fellow Asians. Michelle always smiles at me but I know she has no intention to do anything with me outside of work. There’s no doubt I can’t compete with Dan in the category of physical beauty.

But enough about that douche. I remember the first time he saw me naked. I saw him glance down at my penis and smile condescendingly. I’ll never forgive him for that.

Thankfully, since the divorce Dan has switched gyms. I have not seen him in more than two months. Good riddance.

I walk into the locker room and choose my favorite locker, #218. I have no idea why it’s my favorite. I picked this one the first time I came here and have stuck with it ever since. If that one is being used, my backup is #220. But today, #218 is empty.

“How’s it going, buddy?” a familiar voice says to me.

I turn around and see Jason Marquee, an old friend from high school. Jason is a black guy who was a standout wide receiver on our football team. He received a lot of interest from Division I colleges (including UCLA, Baylor, Boston College and Michigan State), but unfortunately during the last game of his senior year he suffered a catastrophic injury when a free safety tackled him by the knees and tore his ACL. Jason eventually recovered from this injury but his speed and quickness never fully returned. I feel really bad for him. He’s definitely the type of guy you want to root for to succeed.

“I’m doing pretty well. Are you going to watch the game later today?”

“Yeah. I just got done with my workout and I’m on my way out. Who are you pulling for?”

“I don’t really care either way. I just want a good game.”

“Cop out answer! Just kidding, bro. I guess I do too.”

“Are you going to watch it with your girlfriend?”

“Yes, sir. She’s a proud Husky and wouldn’t miss it for anything. But I have to go. She’s expecting me right about now.”

“Awesome. Have fun. Say hello to her for me.”

“Yeah, yeah. I will. Have a good workout, Ryan.”

“Take care, Jason. See you around.”

Jason leaves with his gym back slung over his left shoulder. I undress and slap on my smelly workout clothes. Oh, God. I need to do laundry this week.

Jason, like Dan, is also hung like a horse. But unlike Dan, Jason is very modest about himself and is a very likeable guy. The injury really humbled him. I remember how cocky he was in high school. Hell, you would be too if you had national talent scouts watching you on the sidelines every week. Jason is the only guy with a penis that’s large enough to compete with Dan. But Dan still wins. I shudder to think what Big Dan looks like when he’s, uh, big.

I really start to shudder when I think about Dan’s large package ramming into Michelle’s tight little body. Michelle is not a large woman. But she must have enjoyed the sex. Why else would she have stayed with him for so long and have two kids from him?

Whatever. Time to work out.

Today is a chest and shoulder day. I can bench press 155, which doesn’t seem like much because… well, it’s not much. But I do 4 sets of 12 so I think I get a decent workout every time I do it. I’m slowly working my way up and hope I can get to 200 pounds by the end of the year.

I wonder how much Cindi can bench. Probably 300 or 350. She looks pretty damn strong. I can just imagine her massive chest heaving up and down as she grunts, huffs, puffs and sweat drips off her pretty face.

Dang. My erection is back. I hope nobody notices.

The workout area is sparse as most people are more interested in college football than burning calories. Personally, I’d also rather eat potato chips and drink beer than bust my butt at the gym, but my conscious wouldn’t let me rest easy. Sloth is the easiest path toward failure. Whatever “failure” means in this case.

I begin with a little cardio. The cardio area usually has ESPN playing. Maybe I can catch the tail end of some other game before the Big Game starts. The upstairs section is dedicated to treadmills, Stair Masters, elliptical machines, rowing machines and other cardio equipment. This area is usually dominated by women and high school kids training for track. Today there’s an old black lady, two college-aged Asian girls who appear to be friends (don’t worry; neither of them are particularly attractive), a really buff middle-aged guy and myself. The really buff middle-aged guy is named Tony. We’ve talked a few times and he’s a very nice guy. He’s the type who spends too much time flirting with the pretty young ladies at the gym between his sets. And his sets are pretty insane. Tony can lift with the best of them.

Tony sees me and nods his head. I nod back. This is usually the extent of our conversations together.

I choose a treadmill and see there’s an NBA pre-season game playing instead of college football. Whatever. I’ll watch anything.

After running a good two miles, I go downstairs, take a long drink at the water fountain and head to the weightlifting area. Hm. No one’s here. Tony has moved on and is currently squatting what looks to be about 315 pounds. Out of the corner of my eye I see Hot Blondie, a young woman who comes here constantly. I don’t know her real name, but she’s as gorgeous as a supermodel and keeps her body in ridiculously good shape. From what I’ve gathered overhearing her conversations with other people (some call it eavesdropping, I call it the consequences of exercising in close quarters), she works at one of those bikini coffee shops. I’ve never been to one of those but I’d love to see her in a bikini. Oh, baby…

Today Hot Blondie is wearing a bright red athletic bra, matching spandex shorts (which are tight as hell), white tennis shoes and her iPod. She has no qualms about showing off her figure in public. Hell, she gets paid to do it for a living (while making lattes and Americanos, of course).

Usually I get distracted when Hot Blondie works out near me. But today all I can think about is Miss North and her magnificently buff body. It’s almost to the point where I’m seeing her everywhere. There she is squatting next to Tony. There she is bench pressing right next to me. There she is blasting her biceps with 80 pound dumbbells. There she is doing shoulder presses with 70 pound dumbbells. Yikes. This erection has been with me for at least fifteen minutes!

During my sets I try to think of nothing but my lifts. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, being unfocused at the gym is a recipe for disaster. I’ve witnessed too many accidents during my time working here. One time a bunch of brainless high school jocks were messing around and accidentally bumped into someone doing lunges. That person fell down and badly twisted their ankle. Thomas did not think twice about banning them forever after that unfortunate incident. Good riddance.

Holy crap. Hot Blondie’s doing squats. Don’t get distracted, Tony. I love surreptitiously watching her do squats. Watching her long, toned legs and butt move up and down is enough to make me climax on the spot. That would be messy if this were to actually happen.

As expected, Tony has finished his set and is now striking up a conversation with Hot Blondie. I have no doubt they’ve had sex before. Tony has hinted to me that they have and I can believe it. Rumor has it Hot Blondie is not the monogamous type. But would she ever sleep with me? Definitely not. Like Michelle, she has alternate tastes in guys. Particularly guys who aren’t Asian.

But enough of that. There’s an FBB out there who wants to do me (or is it she wants me to do her?). That’s enough to be proud of for the moment.

Time to resume my workout.

After I finish bench pressing I move on to various shoulder exercises. I usually cap off my workout with stretching and doing 800 crunches. Yes, I do that many crunches. I have a fairly decent four-pack that you can see when I suck in my gut. I’m still working on the other two to show up. But not Cindi. She has at least an eight-pack going on.

The closest I ever get to talking with Hot Blondie is during my stretching. Not too many guys stretch after lifting, which is something that could be very dangerous. Lots of women come to the stretching mats. Some are young and shapely, others are old and baggy. When Hot Blondie starts doing her yoga stretches right next to me, it’s difficult to not get an erection. And it’s even more difficult to hide it when you’re wearing gym shorts.

Now it’s time to take a shower. I probably smell like a third-world prison. Shower time is an odd time because it’s when all the guys get to see each other naked. Wellford Fitness Center has a large communal shower room where up to twenty guys can shower at once. And this is when we “compare” each other to see how we “measure up.”

When I say “measure up,” I don’t just mean penis size (even though that’s what I was really referring to). We silently compare the size of our biceps, chests, shoulders, backs, legs, abs and other muscle areas. Guys with the biggest muscles get the respect. Guys who don’t are quietly judged. As for me, I’m somewhere in the middle. I look toned but I’m not buff by any means. I’m someone people mildly respect but don’t revere. Dan, Tony and Jason are all guys people revere.

I’ve already said Dan and Jason are very well-endowed. Tony is not quite in their range but he doesn’t seem embarrassed about letting everything hang loose. At the moment there’s me and two other guys. Both are near elderly and probably couldn’t get it up if they tried. At least I have them beat on that front.

But then Big Mark walks in.

Big Mark is the only guy who can physically compare with Dan. Big Danny and Big Mark were rivals back in the day. Every time the two of them worked out together it clearly became a contest to see who could lift more. Big Mark was at least 6 foot 5 and looked like a power forward on steroids (to be honest with you, I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually were on the juice). I didn’t see Big Mark in the weight room, so I’m going to guess he just got out of the swimming pool. Big Mark usually swims a few laps in the pool, showers, lifts insane amounts of weight and showers again.

“Hey there,” Big Mark says to me.

“Hi,” I reply back.

“Are you going to watch the game today?”

“Yes, sir. I’m pulling for UW to win.”

“Yeah, me too. But it’s not going to happen. No way, man.”

“Got to keep the faith, bro. Got to keep the faith.”

“True that.”

Big Mark is a lot nicer than Dan. Big Mark can get a little douchey at times, but I usually keep my distance from him. Besides, it hurts my neck to have to look up all the time to talk to him.

Completely naked, Big Mark looks like a Greek god. He has a body covered with large muscles and a face that looks like an Abercrombie & Fitch model. His penis is not as long as Dan’s or Jason’s, but it looks a lot thicker. Do women prefer length or girth?

Big Mark quickly rinses off and heads out.

“Have a good work out,” I say.

“Thanks. You heading out?”

“Yeah, I’m done here.”

“Alright. See you around,” he says.

Yeah, I’ll see him around. Hopefully the next time I see him I’ll be devirginized. Then I-

Wait.

Losing my virginity? Soon? To a beautiful female bodybuilder? Yes, please.

It’s time to get out of here and see where destiny takes me.

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