805

Amy Neal showing definitely has the legs to showcase those boots.
Amy Neal showing definitely has the legs to showcase those boots.

They couldn’t wait.

Not after all this agonizing anticipation. Not after the hours they’ve spent silently looking at each other, trying to hide their lust-filled glances from preening eyes.

Not anymore. There’s no holding back. It’s now or never.

The tension between them couldn’t be stronger. It’s at a tipping point. The raw energy surging through them is going to explode at any moment. They need release. They need to shatter the invisible wall separating them. They need each other.

Desperately.

For the past 72 hours, they’ve been dancing a seductive tango without a single word being spoken. She’s a world class professional bodybuilder. He’s a rising amateur photographer. They come from two completely different worlds, but this sensual dance feels as natural and seamless as Fred and Ginger.

It’s the final day of the big competition. The entire weekend has been one long blur for both of them. But now it’s quickly coming to an end. Her exhibition came to an end yesterday. She got screwed by the judges again by placing 3rd when she (and her competition) fully expected her to win it all. Fucking politics. Placing 2nd last year was a travesty. Placing 3rd this year is more like a cruel joke.

Fuck the world. Fuck these pathetic judges who wouldn’t know excellence if it tied them up in a dark alley and fucked them up the ass.

But all that is behind her now. All that matters is getting what she wants. She really needs a guy right now. After spending months upon months training for this competition, she realizes she hasn’t had sex in at least half a year. Fuck. Has it really been that long?

Meeting guys isn’t the hard part. Meeting guys who aren’t complete assholes is a completely different story. She’s met her fair share of pricks (working in the bodybuilding industry can do that to you), but hardly any gentlemen. She hopes he’s different.

He, on the other hand, also hasn’t been with anyone in a while. He’s too embarrassed to think of when. All he knows is that from the moment he locked eyes with her, he knew she was special. He’s met plenty of female bodybuilders and athletes before, but she has an aura around her that made her…unique. He couldn’t explain why. He just knew she was.

She sparkled for the camera. Her smile feels genuine. There’s real warmth to her personality. She’s not fake. She’s not putting on an act. She is who she really is. And that attracts him to her the most.

Camera in hand, he’s already taken more photos than he knows what to do with. At least 500. Maybe 600. God, editing all these photos is going to be a fucking nightmare. But none of that is important to him right now. At this moment, he needs to be with her.

In the grand lobby of the convention center, there is a sea of humanity sprawled all over. People of all sorts. Bodybuilders, spectators, journalists, photographers, vendors, security guards, and maybe even a few celebrities. He’s supposed to photograph all the events (especially the final event), but he’d rather brush it off if it means he could be with her. He frantically looks around for her.

She’s also frantically looking around for him. After the final event, everyone goes their separate ways. This could be her last chance to connect with him. All the flirting, all the loving stares, all the sexual tension between them could be for naught.

Finally, a familiar figure crosses her path. It’s him! Wearing his camera around his neck, he looks as hungry and fierce as her. Wearing sweat pants, an old t-shirt, and no makeup whatsoever, she doesn’t look particularly sexy, but he doesn’t mind. In his opinion, she always looks dazzling. She approaches him and forces him to stop dead in his tracks. His heart stops. Her hearts beats faster. She leans in and whispers this simple message into his ear:

“805.”

Then she walks away. He knows exactly what that means. Room 805. Her room. Her hotel is across the street from the convention center. He knows that for a fact. It is time to meet her there. He snaps a few more photos, knowing she would want a few moments to herself before accepting visitors to her room.

The male and female bodybuilders covered in orange tan spray nearly make him puke. Seeing the annoying wannabe bodybuilders line up at the vendor booths looking for the perfect supplement that will give them the most “gains” also makes him sick to his stomach. He usually hates covering these events, but meeting her changed all of that for the better.

A nice looking hotel room.
A nice looking hotel room.

Meanwhile, back at her room, she quickly disrobes and takes a short shower. She loves the feeling of the hot water cascading off her hard, muscle-bound body. She turns the water off, pats herself dry, and puts on a lily white bathrobe. She then remembers to brush her teeth. Since yesterday’s monstrosity, she’s finally been able to splurge on the foods she’s had to refrain from for the past six months. That pulled pork taco she had for lunch today nearly gave her an orgasm. For real.

She sits on a comfortable beige sofa and waits. Waiting to be ravished. Waiting to be touched. Waiting to be made love to. Waiting for him.

Moments pass. Minutes pass. She becomes impatient. Where the hell is he?

He’s trudging through the rain to get across the street. A damn taxi driver nearly runs him over. Fucking asshole. Can’t he see he’s trying to cross the street?

He enters the hotel and immediately walks toward the elevator. He pushes “up.” He waits. The doors open. He gets inside. He presses “8.” The doors close. The elevator begins its ascension. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. Finally, the doors open. He exits the elevator. He passes an attractive couple making out in the hallway. He pays no attention to them. A cleaning maid walks by. A loose toddler waddles underneath a chestnut table. He pays no attention to them either.

After taking a sharp right turn, he finds her room. 805. He closes his eyes and visualizes what she must look like naked. He’s sure reality would far surpass his imagination. Determined to find out, he knocks on the door. Time passes. His palms get sweaty. He holds his breath in anticipation of the door opening.

She gets up. She remembers to tie her bathrobe. She starts to notice her palms get sweaty. She hopes he isn’t as much of a nervous wreck as her.

She opens the door. She looks at him. He looks back at her. Beat. Finally, she welcomes him inside and she briskly closes the door to avoid prying eyes from peeking into their impromptu rendezvous. Rumors start when eyes spy in places they shouldn’t. She wants to make sure that doesn’t happen. She wants to cut that shit in the bud.

There is dead silence between them. Which is fitting, considering they’ve never actually carried on a conversation together. The time for talk is later. Now is the time for something else. Something way more intimate.

First, he places his camera (sporting an impressive telephoto lens) on top of a mahogany credenza. His shoes come off shortly afterward. Then his jacket. Then he stops. He turns to face her. She studies his face, hopelessly trying to guess what’s on his mind. She gives up and instead waits for him to make the first move.

He does.

He goes to her. She throws her thick arms around him. Her embrace is so tight he’s afraid his ribcage will crack. They kiss. Wet, sloppy, and unrefined. Just the way they prefer it. She reaches down and unzips his pants. His erection strains against his underwear. He makes no effort to prevent her from stripping him naked. Within seconds he’s stark naked. His hardness stands at attention. She gently pushes him onto the bed and he falls backward. She stands back and strikes a half dozen bodybuilding poses for him. He applauds at every one of them.

He recognizes excellence when he sees it. Unlike those fucking scumbag judges. She notices his appreciation and takes it to heart.

Enough with the foreplay. Now is the time for intimacy. She unties her bathrobe and lets it fall to the floor. It pools around her ankles. Her muscular naked body glistens in the dim yellow light of her hotel room. His eyes try to take in every square inch of her immaculate body. He knows he will have plenty of time to enjoy her unrivaled physique all to himself.

She jumps on him like a lion attacking its prey. Her massive body entirely covers him, enveloping him. He feels the tip of his penis rubbing against her six-pack abs. They playfully wrestle for a few minutes. Tongues explore each other’s faces. She sucks on his bottom lip while he licks the tip of her nose. He strokes her swollen clit. Holy fuck. Her clit is fucking huge. He then feels her sheer wetness. Dripping. Gushing. Juices flowing. She’s ready for him.

Who wouldn't want to spend an hour or two in a hotel room with Nicole Berg?
Who wouldn’t want to spend an hour or two in a hotel room with Nicole Berg?

They share a momentary gaze. There’s a mutual understanding between them. Should they use protection? She does have a box of condoms in her suitcase, but she trusts him. And he trusts her. They decide to forego it and make love without any barriers.

On his back, he moves his legs together so she can properly straddle him. She starts off on her knees and gradually lowers herself onto his erect manhood. He completely enters her. His scrotum rests snugly against the base of her pelvis. She rocks back and forth gently at first but eventually quickens her pace. She closes her eyes, wanting to drink in every sensual moment of their coupling. He plays with her small breasts, pinching her nipples and caressing her protruding abdominal muscles. She kisses him and breathes deeply. Her hot breath streams across his neck, making the hairs on the back of his head stiffen.

Their eyes meet. He looks at her beautiful face. She looks at his handsome face. They were meant to be together, like this, making love like old lovers, even though they hardly know each other. Each stroke they share, every kiss, every orgasmic buildup brings them closer and closer together to a level that’s so familiar it frightens them.

He’s close. She’s closer. She hasn’t been made love to like this in a while. The same goes for him. They need this release more than they’ve ever needed it before.

One hard pinch of her nipples sends her over the edge. Her vaginal muscles contract around him. She squeezes her beastly thighs around his waist, making him come. He throws his head back and empties himself inside her. She tries to suppress a scream but lets it out anyway – perhaps disturbing their neighbors. She collapses on top of him and feels his chest breathing deeply. They remain like that for a long time.

They choose not to speak a word to each other. Not because they don’t want to talk, but because their form of communication doesn’t need words. There exists an intuitive connection that makes spoken words irrelevant. Nobody can speak this language but them and them alone.

He massages her endless mounds of back muscles. She caresses his softened penis and fondles his scrotum. Their eyes never break focus.

Once the glow of their lovemaking began to wear off, she gets up, takes out a bottle of chilled champagne from a small refrigerator, and pops the cork open with her bare fingers. Then she grabs two plastic cups from the bathroom and pours a frosty glass for both him and her. They drink, talk about a wide range of topics, engage in friendly debate, drink some more, kiss, switch topics to something else entirely different, drink some more, and kiss some more.

Finally, they come to the end of the bottle. Both a little drunk, they decide to make love for the second time. This time, he’s on top. The animalistic passion of their previous coupling was gone for something more subdued. He takes it slow and feels no need to rush. She enjoys every moment of it. They came together from one gloriously shared orgasm. He moans. She gasps. They lay limp in each other’s arms. They decide to turn off the lights and fall asleep.

A bottle of champagne being uncorked.
A bottle of champagne being uncorked.

A little less than an hour later, he unexpectedly awakens to a pleasant surprise. He looks down and sees her gently sucking on his little penis, trying to make it grow to her liking. It does. Now hardened, she grabs his hand and escorts him outside. She opens a large glass door and takes him onto a small balcony overlooking the entire city.

Still naked, they look out at the blackened night sky and watch traffic still crawling by even this late at night. He glances back inside at a wall clock and sees it’s nearing 11 p.m.

Boldly, she wraps her strong arms around him and kisses him fervently. Then they decide to make love for the third time. Knowing at any moment someone could catch them in the act of doing it al fresco made it seem naughtier and riskier. One of their next-door neighbors could easily slip outside and watch them make love!

None of that matters. She grabs onto the balcony’s metal railing and spreads her legs wide. She bends over and invites him to take her from behind. At first he enters her vagina, but she quickly indicates she wants him to enter her in a different way. He takes the hint by licking his index finger and sticking it inside her anus. After properly moistening her tight cavity, he swiftly inserts his hardness inside her. She welcomes his penetration and reaches down to masturbate her strikingly large clitoris.

Her clit, unnaturally enlarged by years of hormone injections, is a signature part of her body that only her most loyal fans know about. He is now privileged to come in very close contact with this legendary feminine appendage.

He pumps into her leisurely at first so he could get used to her tremendous tightness. As he began to get more comfortable inside her, he pumps harder and harder until he starts to get into a rhythm. She continues to masturbate herself and bellows out loud cries of pleasure for the whole city to hear. She doesn’t care if the while city does in fact hear her. On the contrary, she wants everybody to hear her throaty screams of passion!

Soon, he pumps into her for a final time and climaxes. He fills her anus with six powerful squirts of his warm semen and kisses the back of her neck. She eventually climaxes herself from her own self-pleasuring. She tilts her head upward and feels the cool evening breeze cloak her naked skin. Her taut muscles defiantly remain rigid in the cold wind.

When she feels his penis soften, she turns around and hugs him firmly, refusing to let go. She needs this so badly it almost makes her want to cry. But her inner strength, which is just about as formidable as her physical strength, refuses to allow her to do such a thing. He greedily feels her beautiful muscular body while locking on to her gorgeous eyes. Her bulging arms, rounded shoulders, broad chest, tree trunk thighs, wide back, six-pack abs, sharp nipples, curvy butt – everything about her arouses him. She’s a piece of art.

They stay wrapped up in each other’s arms for a long time.

Soon it became too cold to stay outside. They promptly return back inside and slid the balcony door shut. Did anybody see them in action? There’s no way either of them would ever know.

Shortly after midnight they take a brief shower together. He enjoys every opportunity to soap up her bulky muscles! Now fresh and clean, they dry off and head back to bed.

There might not be an ounce of energy left in their bodies, but their souls are as vibrant as ever. He cuddles up next to her and lightly strokes her still wet hair. She giggles. Her low rumbling voice shakes the entire room. He then reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp. In total darkness, they prepare to make love for the fourth time that night. Though his body feels like mush, he knows this may be the first and last encounter they will share together. She feels the same way. They must soak up this entire experience as much as they possibly can.

Just the kind of balcony these two nameless characters would be making love from.
Just the kind of balcony these two nameless characters would be making love from.

And so they began their sensual dance once again. She mounts him and takes him in at a deliberate pace. There’s no hurry to get to sleep. Morning will come, like it always does. This moment of shared pleasure and love may never be rekindled. This is their time. They must do with it what they can before it’s too late.

By now, he feels so right inside her. He feels right at home. It’s like they were always meant to make love to each other, as if some unseen and all-knowing cosmic force drove them together to this humble hotel room, number 805. Neither one of them ever give much thought to the Divine, but now is as good as ever a time to do so.

Perhaps an hour passes; perhaps it was only a few minutes. But eventually she and he climax together – for the fourth time – and it is without a doubt the most beautiful climax of the night. Pure, unadulterated, right. So right. So real. So needed.

He falls asleep instantly. She follows soon after. And then they sleep. Whatever happens in the morning is out of their control. To hell with what happens next. Next can wait. Morning can wait. The future can wait.

What happens now cannot wait.

Bridgette – The Unlikely Porn Star (part two)

Mindi O'Brien, ladies and gentlemen.
Mindi O’Brien, ladies and gentlemen.

Sean takes a deep breath and exhales. Oh boy. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a red light flash next to the camera lens. We’re rolling. And this is when things get real. Very real.

Bridgette starts off the action by slowly approaching Sean and putting her arms around his waist. She squeezes him tightly, causing an electric jolt to run down his back. Wow, is she really that strong? What kind of a physique does she have hiding underneath that fur coat?

“Come here, pretty boy. Thank you for coming over to my place,” Bridgette says, the sensuality dripping from her husky voice. “Is there anything I can do to make your Thanksgiving more memorable?”

Sean struggles to come up with something to say. “Roleplaying” was never his strength. He never knew the right thing to say. Besides, how clever could you possibly be given these unusual circumstances?

“I can think of many things, but what I’m really looking forward to is the big Thanksgiving feast,” he finally says. Damn! Is that the best he can do?

“Well, I’ll give you something to feast on!” Bridgette whispers in his ear.

She releases him, takes a few steps back, and reveals her Body. Bridgette unbuttons her fur coat, twirls around theatrically, and drops it to the floor. What Sean sees standing before him makes his whole body freeze.

WOW!!!

Bridgette isn’t just a big lady. She’s a big muscular lady!

Revealing her full figure, Sean’s jaw drops to the floor as he gazes upon Bridgette’s divine body. Finely chiseled, perfectly proportioned, enormously massive, and still unmistakably feminine, her body is a magnificent sight to behold. Big muscles everywhere, by Sean’s estimation Bridgette must be some kind of professional bodybuilder. She must have tons of trophies sitting around somewhere with an incredible physique like hers!

Holy FUCKING shit!!!!!!!!

She also is completely nude, which Sean just realizes. Whoa. She was naked the entire time underneath that fur coat!

“Surprised by what you see?” Bridgette smirks. Sean’s eyes are wider than flying saucers.

“Yes, I am! Holy smokes! You look…incredible!” Deep down inside, Sean has always admired strong women. As a kid, he used to buy old fitness magazines for 50 cents at a local library and sneak into his room and ogle at the pictures of fitness girls. Ever since then he’s secretly had a “thing” for beautiful girls with muscle. Little did he ever imagine he’d actually meet one in real life!

“I don’t just look incredible. I feel incredible. Here, come see for yourself.” She walks toward him, stark naked, and holds up her right bicep for him to feel. Sean touches it, bestowing upon it his utmost attention. Dear God, it’s sooooooooo hard! Sean has never felt biceps so hard before. Looking at Bridgette from head to toe, he’s never ever seen up-close-and-personal a woman with so much muscle. It’s like she’s from another planet…

“Impressed? You certainly looked impressed,” she observes.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m very much impressed. You probably work really hard to look like this. God, I can’t possibly imagine what you have to do to look as beautiful as this,” Sean says. Now completely oblivious to the camera, Sean has been transported to a whole other dimension. Only she and he exist; no one else.

This camera would be difficult to mount over your shoulder.
This camera would be difficult to mount over your shoulder.

“Let’s see what you got, pretty boy.” Bridgette leans forward and unbuckles Sean’s belt. He feels an erection forming. Should he be embarrassed by this?

Sean takes in another deep breath but forgets to exhale once Bridgette successfully pulls his pants down to his ankles. He lifts his feet as she rips his pants off and tosses them across the room. He finally exhales when she begins to take off his shoes.

“You look so good, little boy. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I wanted you to come to bed with me. If you had said ‘no,’ I don’t know what I would have done with myself,” Bridgette confesses. By now Sean is only wearing his underwear and shirt. Bridgette turns around and bends over. Her rounded butt pushes against his now erect penis. Sean’s heart races like a wild horse.

“Spank me. Go ahead. I’ve been a naughty little muscle girl!” Instead of spanking her, Sean cups her firm cheeks in his hands and savors the feeling. So hard. So full. But so beautiful at the same time. Finally, he lightly slaps her on her right butt cheek. Sean watches it jiggle up and down.

“Oh! Yes, yes, yes! That’s what I’m talking about. I like that.”

“What else do you like?” By now Sean has gotten more comfortable “acting” in front of the camera. He’s completely forgotten that a camera crew is watching them. Jimmy, Tony, Lexie and Maggie might as well not exist. They don’t matter anymore.

Bridgette turns back toward him and kisses him on the lips. This sudden act of intimacy steals his breath away. He feels her small breasts and plays with her erect nipples. Oh my God! They must be at least an inch and a half long! He pinches them greedily.

“Ouch! That hurts!”

Surprised, Sean crashes back to reality. He releases her nipples and backs off.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Sean apologizes. He could tell she wasn’t really hurt when she throws her head back and laughs.

“Do you really think you could give me pain? I’m a strong muscle girl. No one, especially you, could hurt me. I’m stronger and more muscular than most guys, aren’t I?” She raises her left leg toward him, challenging him to feel it. He touches her thick thigh, a shiver going down his spine as he feels her beautiful leg. Sean, without a doubt, is a Leg Guy.

“So…strong…” Sean says, in a daze. Bridgette puts her leg down and takes off her fur boots. Now completely naked, she strikes a few bodybuilding poses and smiles incessantly. Sean watches in amazement and applauds after she finishes.

“Thank you. You might not be able to give me pain, but you certainly should be able to give me…pleasure.”

Pleasure? He sure hopes so! Sean has never had sex with a white woman before. Only small and petite Asian girls. He’s certain he’s been able to satisfy all of them. But could he match up with a big muscular woman like Bridgette?

“I’d like to think so,” he says. Bridgette goes to him and rips off his shirt. Literally. She grabs his shirt by the collar and tears it apart. Sean nearly climaxes just from her amazing show of strength. Luckily, this is an old shirt that Sean only wears when he doesn’t plan on being seen in public for too long. Going to the store is one thing. Starring in a porno is quite another. So he doesn’t mind not being able to wear this shirt ever again.

This is what I imagine the condo would be like.
This is what I imagine the condo would be like.

Only his underwear remains. His erection, which Sean suddenly becomes very self-conscious about, strains against the blue fabric. Aren’t male porn stars supposed to be well-endowed? Sean doesn’t think he’s small down there, but he isn’t completely confident in it either. His last girlfriend, a 4’11” Vietnamese girl, seemed to enjoy their lovemaking sessions. His girlfriend before that, a 5’1” Japanese girl, also never complained about their bedroom activities. The girl he lost his virginity to at the age of 15 was half Chinese and half Korean. She was on the high school gymnastics team. She was smaller and skinner than the other two girls (if that were even possible!). But Bridgette is something else entirely. She’s probably had many lovers in her life. Her expectations must be through the roof. How would Sean measure up to them?

“Enough of the foreplay. I’ve been ready since the moment I first met you. How should we do this?” Bridgette stretches her arms and legs as if she were preparing for a track meet. Sean expects his erection to burst out of his underwear if it doesn’t come off soon. As if she has extrasensory perception, Bridgette goes to him and pulls his underwear to the floor. She bends down to inspect his penis. Sean starts to sweat. His heart pounds so loudly he wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the room could hear it.

She kisses the sensitive tip. Goosebumps rise from every pore of his skin. Bridgette then licks the side, tasting it as if it were an ice cream cone. Sean is afraid if she continues to do this, he could come within seconds. He closes his eyes and tries to think of something else to prolong the moment. Nothing productive comes to mind.

“So beautiful. So hard. You’re definitely ready for me, little boy,” Bridgette tells him between licks. She tickles his scrotum with her hard, calloused fingers. All her years of weightlifting has deadened almost all the skin on her hands. The sensation of her rigid touch against his erection forces a sudden gasp to escape from his lips.

“I have an idea. Follow me,” Bridgette orders. She stands up, takes his hand and drags him to the far north corner of the bedroom. Jimmy removes the camera from the tripod and follows them with the camera slung over his shoulder. Tony sneaks closely behind holding the boom microphone. Lexie turns a light toward their direction. Maggie remains where she is, standing and watching intently.

Bridgette takes them to the 180 degree curved window overlooking the sea. She tugs on a rope which pulls back the curtains. Sean looks out, admiring the gorgeous night skyline view. But it’s his view of her that impresses him more. She’s so fucking beautiful! How the hell did he get so lucky for all of this to happen to him? His mom asking him to bake a pecan pie for Thanksgiving dinner was probably the best coincidence to ever happen to him.

“Everyone in the city can see us, can’t they?” Bridgette has finished pulling the curtain back. Sean realizes she’s absolutely right. On top of a hill overlooking the busy downtown, there’s no doubt anyone who happened to look up at this condo building at this moment would have a perfect view of this porno being shot. Oh God, what if someone he knew were seeing this now?

“You’re such a voyeuristic lady, aren’t you?” She’s surprised Sean is able to adequately carry on a coherent conversation.

“I am. So let’s give them a show!” Bridgette turns around, puts her hands against a railing in front of the window, bends over forward and spreads her legs wide open. Sean could see her soaking wet vagina and enlarged clitoris dripping with moisture all the way to the carpet. Her readiness arouses him further.

It’s time to act. Fuck it. Fuck all of it. Fuck all his failed relationships. Fuck his dead end job. Fuck every single time he’s been rejected for anything in his life. It’s time to fuck all if it and fuck this gorgeous female bodybuilder in front of a worldwide audience. It’s time to show the world that I’m a Man and I deserve to be here with her. It’s time to act–

“Shit! Stop stalling! I’m fucking dripping over here! Did you hear me? Go on and fuck me, Goddammit!”

Sean immediately returns back to his senses. His eyes sharpen. His focus is singular.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Sean goes to her and grips her hips with both hands. Jimmy is filming them from the right side. Sean could almost hear the camera buzzing. It’s now or never. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. He pokes her sensitive passageway with his index finger and explores her wetness. Bridgette moans. Feeling bold, he puts a second finger inside her and prods further. Her breathing intensifies. Jimmy gets down on one knee so he can get a better angle of her vagina. Sean, desiring to show the world he can be the Greatest Lover in the Universe, delicately pushes a third finger inside her. His fingers move quicker. He knows he’s found her G-spot when a loud groan escapes from her throat. He’s on fire. He’s feeling empowered. He knows this is his time to shine.

Flavia Crisos. I can't even comprehend her.
Flavia Crisos. I can’t even comprehend her.

“Oh, fuck! God, you are so fucking amazing! More, more, more…” Bridgette moans. Her throaty cries embolden him even more. Sean squats down so he can see better. A fourth finger enters her. Then his thumb. He drives his entire fist inside her outstretched vagina and thrusts it in and out at a deliberate pace. Bridgette’s moans turn to screams. Is she acting? Or is she being real in this moment?

After one final push, Bridgette comes and squirts a small amount of fluid onto his fist. He quickly removes his hand from her vagina and watches a pool of her feminine juices form on the lily white carpet. Out of breath, Bridgette leans against the railing but keeps her legs wide apart. Now, it’s his turn. Sean stands up and grabs his penis. He rubs the head of his manhood against her very wet opening and gradually pushes it until it’s completely in. He moans. She moans back. Jimmy scoots back so he can capture every inch of the action.

“Fuck me.” Bridgette can’t wait any longer. Neither can he.

“My pleasure.”

Methodically at first, but gradually getting faster and faster, Sean thrusts in and out of her in front of the entire city. He pinches her butt cheeks and feels the muscles in her broad back. Bridgette’s grip on the metal railing has not loosened. She might break it in half if she’s not careful!

His pace quickens. His thrusts intensify. Her breathing becomes heavy. Out of nowhere, Sean realizes he’s not wearing protection. Bridgette doesn’t seem concerned by this vulnerability. So he doesn’t worry either.

When the lights are shining the brightest, how would you perform?
When the lights are shining the brightest, how would you perform?

Bridgette brings her legs closer together and squeezes her vagina, tightening herself around him. Sean gasps. He claws his fingers against her back then decides to reach lower and stroke her clit. Fuck! It’s enormous! Her clit is almost the size of a small penis! Sean never imagined he’d ever see a woman so well-endowed in his entire life. He pinches her clit, which makes Bridgette jolt upward. She tosses her head back and growls. He’s surprised she didn’t fly through the roof. Sean’s close to coming, but he knows how to control himself. He wants to make love to her for as long as he possibly could.

As her second orgasm builds toward its finish, she rocks her bottom back and forth to complement his thrusts. Sweat drips off her beautiful face. Jimmy is as still as a statue, capturing every moment of their coupling. Even Maggie seems intrigued by what’s happening. She wonders whether Bridgette is “acting” or if she’s actually enjoying herself. As a 30+ year veteran of the porn industry, she’s seen her share of fake orgasms. But Bridgette’s orgasms look and sound very fucking real!

“Oh, God…” Sean mutters under his breath.

Sean can’t hold it any longer. His pace quickens to a maximum level. Bridgette appears as though she’s going to pass out. Finally, after trying to hold back as much as he can, Sean climaxes and empties himself into her. Bridgette tightens and releases her vaginal muscles once more, prompting her to climax after him. Sean releases into her for what seems like an eternity.

“Mmmmmmm,” Bridgette grumbles. Her grip on the railing loosens.

As Sean’s spasms subside, he continues to caress her muscular back with finesse. Completely spent, Bridgette collapses to the floor and curls up in a ball. Sean falls down with her and massages her six-pack abs. He kisses her neck. She lovingly strokes his softened penis with one hand and fondles her swollen clit with the other. Jimmy is now standing over them, the camera pointed downward. Tony smirks. Lexie smiles. Maggie remains stoned face.

Cut. That’s a wrap.

Self-Worship: The Unspoken Confessions of Female Bodybuilders

Four of the most beautiful women in the world: Yaxeni Oriquen, Anne Freitas, Alina Popa and Iris Kyle.
Four of the most beautiful women in the world: Yaxeni Oriquen, Anne Freitas, Alina Popa and Iris Kyle.

Everyone knows how amazing female bodybuilders are in every aspect of life: Physically, emotionally, intellectually, socially, sexually and perhaps even spiritually.

It should be obvious that lots of men out there share these feelings. Female bodybuilders, athletes and those who love pumping their bodies at the gym are, simply put, a thing of beauty. They are beautiful in ways that cannot justifiably be put into words. The context of their beauty is so unfathomable that 100 volumes of encyclopedia-level text could not explain it all.

But that’s just one perspective. That’s the perspective of straight men who love strong women. But there’s a whole other side of the coin that deserves its own discussion.

What about women?

Specifically, women who are also strong and muscular. What do they think of their fellow muscular sisters? Or themselves?

For the past year I’ve been in correspondence with a real-life female bodybuilder who has expressed her love for my blog. Yes, I was floored when I learned that an actual flesh-and-blood FBB was reading my posts! In our many discussions, this topic recently came up: Female bodybuilders are often turned on by each other…and themselves.

A very tanned Nicki Pimm.
A very tanned Nicki Pimm.

Wait, what? In addition to that being perhaps the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life, in many ways this makes perfect sense. Of course, it goes without saying that I myself am not a female bodybuilder, so my knowledge on this subject is somewhat limited. But from what I do understand, let’s take some time to discuss a topic that definitely deserves a blog article unto itself.

The Underlying Assumption

First, let’s begin with the Underlying Assumption. A female bodybuilder is a woman who dedicates nearly every waking moment of her life toward one singular goal: to achieve a desired physique that maximizes her body’s muscular potential.

This potential could be realized in terms of muscle mass, aesthetic proportions, striking the perfect balance between muscularity and traditional femininity or a combination of all three. Regardless, the ultimate goal is to sculpt one’s body to become Beautiful (despite, of course, not everyone in our society sharing this definition of “Beautiful”). I capitalize the word “Beautiful” because it’s not just a general classification of “beautiful.” Conversely, “beautiful” with a lowercase “b” is defined as “pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically.” That dictionary definition is pretty basic and covers a lot of ground. “Beautiful” with an uppercase “B” means (in my personal dictionary) “pleasing one’s own personal senses or mind aesthetically.”

In this definition, “Beautiful” is not a term defined by others. It’s a standard defined by one’s own self. Yes, obviously competitive bodybuilders are being judged by a panel of other people, but that’s beside the point. Ultimately, an FBB (or male bodybuilder) is really competing against herself. Her standards are the only standards she cares about. Perfection is an internal goal, not an external one. She doesn’t seek to please others. She seeks to please herself. PERIOD.

So given all this, the Underlying Assumption is the basic premise that female bodybuilders are actively pursuing to achieve “Beauty” as they define it. It’s a lofty goal that takes years and years of dieting, lifting, supplementation, drugs (yes, this happens. Get over it), strategic periods of rest, consulting, tears, anguish and sacrifices. All to achieve what? That’s right. Beauty. To become Beautiful in ways that are almost comparable to a religious experience. It’s a spiritual quest that one always pursues, yet never fully achieves.

Sheronica Sade Henton is a rising star.
Sheronica Sade Henton is a rising star.

No professional athlete worth their weight in gold would ever admit out loud that they’ve “made it.” Michael Jordan never believed he reached the mountaintops of being a great basketball player. Even at the prime of his career, he always believed he could be better. There was something about his game that could be improved. While we all know now (and at the time) that he was indeed the greatest of all time, he never believed that. He always needed something to push him further, to motivate him to become better at what he does. Greatness is not an end result, it’s a process. A process one never stops chasing.

That being said, a female bodybuilder is – every single day of her life – climbing her own bodybuilding Mount Everest. She’s seeking out her muscular Nirvana. Her spiritual quest, though unorthodox, resembles more a Tibetan monk striving toward Enlightenment than a professional athlete preparing for game day.

Which leads us to…

Now that we’ve established our Underlying Assumption, we can now move on to the idea that started this discussion.

Cindy (which is not her real name, but a fake one to conceal her true identity), confesses that many female bodybuilders get sexually aroused by both themselves and their fellow FBBs. Whether it happens during a contest, while working out or during interactions with her muscle sisters, there are FBBs who can’t help but become sexually provoked by it all.

Just to give you a better idea of what I’m talking about, here is an excerpt from a recent conversation I’ve had with Cindy:

Cindy: Women are omnisexual. Everything turns us on. Men are more likely to be oriented in one or the other direction.

Cindy: There are a lot of bisexual men, but bisexuality in general comes STANDARD with the women’s psyche.

Ryan: Do you get turned on by yourself?

Cindy: YES very

Cindy: When I see or feel my body growing, pumping

Cindy: And my body reacts when I see other women’s bodies although I really NEED a man for sex

Ryan: Fascinating

Ryan: Are you turned on by the fact that it’s a female form that’s muscular, or because muscularity is traditionally associated with masculinity?

Cindy: No because of how it feels, the sensuality of it

Cindy: I feel so STRONG

Cindy: It makes me wet to feel this way

Cindy: And my body responds, my pits get moist, my nipples get hard

Cindy: It is just so erotic

Wow. What a fascinating conversation, wouldn’t you say? While this is coming from her own perspective, it probably isn’t a stretch of the truth to assume that other FBBs share this same experience. I wouldn’t go as far as to say that all of them do, but for the sake of argument, let’s assume this experience is common enough.

So, we’re not talking about lesbians who are naturally attracted to other women. That’s an oversimplification. We’re talking about straight (or semi-straight) women who, in certain circumstances, become aroused through the mere fact of being a bodybuilder. This means there must be something inherent within the lifestyle that causes this to happen. But what is it?

What this all means, in a nutshell

It’s not surprising that some bodybuilders (male or female) find their profession (or when participating in activities associated with their profession) to be so sexually arousing. These are men and women who are the top of their class competing with themselves to achieve a physique of gargantuan proportions. Our Underlying Assumption returns us to the concept of “Beauty” and how attaining this level of “Beauty” is an unrelenting driving force behind everything these athletes do.

You don’t reach the pinnacle of athletic achievement without passion. You don’t reach it without being out-of-the-ordinary. You don’t get there unless there’s something deep within your soul that aches to be the best you could be.

And that attitude can be very arousing. Especially when you mix in the dynamic of creating perfectly sculpted bodies, which already carries heavy sexual overtones.

The blonde goddess Johanna Dejager.
The blonde goddess Johanna Dejager.

Think about everything related to competitive bodybuilding. The time. The preparation. The sacrifices. The heart. Everything. Just to qualify for a competition is an accomplishment unto itself. But more than that, it’s a very sensual experience. The hot lights flashing down on the stage, the sweat dripping off your brow as the judges write down notes about you, the sounds of people screaming your name as you strike a pose, and especially the high stakes drama associated with any competitive environment.

Sexual arousal is predicated upon being exposed to stimuli that create a physiological and mental response conducive to sparking arousal. These stimuli come from the five senses: sight, taste, touch, sound and smell. Whether you’re in the gym, backstage before a show or in the privacy of your bedroom admiring your physical progress in the mirror, opportunities to being exposed to stimuli are numerous.

So what is “stimuli?” Stimuli can come from a variety of sources. It’s highly sensual and differs from person to person. We’re not all turned on by the same thing. But when exposed to these stimuli at the proper time in the proper manner, it triggers a sexual response in the mind.

Anything can trigger a response. Anything. A sight. A scent. Someone’s voice. Someone’s moan. Bright lights. Dim lights. Natural light. Warm air. A cool breeze. A crowded room. A lonely room. Your partner. Yourself. A thought. A memory. A nightmare. A long forgotten dream. A conversation you once had with someone. Hunger. Fullness. Thirst. Feelings of happiness. Feelings of contentment. Feelings of uncertainty. A contorted mixture of emotions too enormous to describe. Excitement. Anticipation. Anxiety. Melancholy. Nervousness. That sensation of butterflies fluttering about in the pit of your stomach. The joy of victory. The agony of defeat. The mixed feelings of seeing a loved one win while you lose. Sweat. Your heart pounding. Your pulse racing a million miles per minute. Someone’s breath. Someone’s jittery mannerisms. The look on someone’s face. The position of someone’s body. The way a beam of light shines down on someone’s face. Her face. His face. Your own face. Youthfulness. Experience. Love. Anger. Hurt. Awkward encounters. Sickness. Good health. Cleanliness. Filth. Body heat. An unspoken sense of connectedness. Intuition. Ambiguity. Jealousy. Envy. Admiration. Unconditional respect. Her muscles. His muscles. Their muscles. My muscles. Flexing. Showing off. Demonstration of hard work. Playfulness. Egos. Competition. Fierce rivalry. The epic build up. The inevitable let down. Persistence. Shattered dreams. Dreams that really come true. Waiting for your turn. Waiting for his turn. Waiting for her turn. Waiting for our turn. The spotlight. The attention. The tens of thousands of voices screaming your name. The hundreds of thousands of voices screaming the other person’s name. Loudness. Quietness. Silence. Stillness. Shaking in your boots. A chill running down your spine. A tap on your shoulder. A pat on the back. A handshake. A kiss. A whisper in your ear. That one time you made love. That one time you masturbated. That one time you saw him. That one time you saw her. That one time you looked in the mirror and liked what you saw. That one time you looked in the mirror and hated what you saw but vowed to change that immediately. The promise you made to yourself to accept who you are regardless of what other people think. Dancing in the rain. Feeling snow hit the tip of your tongue. Basking in the warm glow of a summer evening. Looking out the window at a peaceful autumn storm. The feeling of your sore muscles after a strenuous workout. The feeling of his muscles after his workout. The feeling of her muscles after her workout. Craving that pump. Needing external affirmations. Desiring to be desired. Being desired. Being the one and only. Being the focus of attention. Knowing your destiny is entirely up to you. Knowing you can fail. Knowing you can succeed. Succeeding. Failing. Not giving a damn either way. Epic moments. Subtle moments. Everyday moments. The logical. The unexplained. The magical. The divine. That which you know but cannot put into words. That which you are embarrassed to even think about. That which you need more than anything else. A goal. A purpose. Existing. God. Humanity. Everything.

Everything.

Or, better yet, anything.

Who’s to say you’re wrong to be turned on by any of this? After all, everyone has different sensual triggers. We’ve all lived lives as diverse as anything you can imagine. The list goes on and on and on. But that’s the beauty of the human mind. You can’t explain any of it. You feel things because you can. The heart and mind sometimes work in tandem, other times they work against each other. It’s all out of your control.

Sophie Legace is a spectacular view, is she not?
Sophie Lagace is a spectacular view, is she not?

Any athlete or artist who spends so much time, sweat, emotional vulnerability, personal discomfort and sense of “normalcy” is bound to be a person with heightened passion. That drive isn’t found with just anyone. The “average Joe” or “Average Jane” could not do what a room full of hot, sweaty, smelly and divinely beautiful female bodybuilders could do. Not by a long shot. What they have to do to look the way they do is simply beyond what most of us would do to pursue our so-called “dreams.”

But for them, it’s not just a mere “dream.” It’s a calling. It requires mental toughness that only a small handful of us could emulate. So when you’ve invested so much into your craft, when you’re finally surrounded by peers who know exactly what you experience on a day-in and day-out basis, you have every reason to be aroused by your surroundings. You have every reason to want to participate in a mass muscle orgy right on the spot. All your pent-up desires have to come out or else you might explode.

So…why are some female bodybuilders easily aroused by each other?

For God’s sake. Isn’t it bloody obvious?

Why Men are Fascinated with a Female Bodybuilder’s Genitalia (NSFW)

WARNING: This post, unlike most posts on this website, contains images that are definitely not safe the work. Unless, of course, you work at a place that allows you to view pictures of gorgeous nude female bodybuilders. If this is the case, you need to let me know if there are any job openings at your place of employment as soon as possible.

One aspect to having a female muscle fetish that might seem really bizarre at first but sort of makes sense once you think about is this:

We are fascinated with a muscular woman’s genitalia.

<Insert dramatic pause>

Whoa there! What??? Is this a real thing?

Yes, it is. It’s a very real thing. Let me explain in further detail.

There are a few female bodybuilders who are especially famous for what exists between her legs. Denise Masino is probably the best example of this. Some Internet users have described Miss Masino as having a “Reuben sandwich” or a “pastrami sandwich” between her thighs. One might describe her vulva as looking like “roast beef.” The analogies may be crude (and unintentionally hilarious), but they aren’t far off from the mark.

Other FBBs are also famous for their genitals. Angela Salvagno is a very well-endowed woman. Amber DeLuca is also very beautiful down there. Yvette Bova is not afraid to show off her lady parts for a leering camera (and for good reason!). But when you ask any fan of female bodybuilding who has the most memorable package, Queen Denise immediately comes to mind.

So what’s all the interest about? First of all, there is interest. Just do a simple Google search (preferably when you’re NOT at work!) of “female bodybuilder clit” or “female muscle pussy” and see what you get. There are many websites and blogs dedicated to showcasing the genitals of FBBs. Female bodybuilding aficionados may not want to openly admit it, but looking at an FBB’s clit, vulva, labia and vagina is often a big turn-on.

The reason for this interest is an intriguing topic of discussion. Let’s break it down:

1. The differences between boys and girls

Growing up, most kids know the most basic differences between boys and girls. Boys have a penis, girls have a vagina. Pretty simple, huh? As a former child myself, I can testify to the existence of many conversations with my friends on the playground where questions like this arose:

“What does a girl’s pussy look like?”

“Have you ever seen a pussy before?”

“Do this with your hands…”

The latter should be very familiar to most of you. Remember back in the day when someone told you to put your hands together, part your pointer finger and middle finger, and interconnect it with someone who’s doing the exact same thing? Yeah, supposedly it looks like a girl’s vagina when you move the palms of your hands outward.

Does it really? No, not really. But when you’re 10 years old, you’ll believe anything you’re told.

Of course, back then none of us ever heard of the word “vagina,” so we stuck to calling it a “pussy.” Rumor has it some adults continue to use this vernacular. Whatever. The point being is that growing up, we were all very curious about what exists between our legs and how not everyone looks the same down there. Some boys are circumcised. Others are not. Do Asian girls and white girls have different looking pussies? God only knows…

Meet Denise Masino, who lays claim to one of the most famous set of genitalia among FBBs.
Meet Denise Masino, who lays claim to one of the most famous set of genitalia among FBBs.

So when these boys and girls grow up to become men and women, doesn’t it figure that this fascination would continue? We’re captivated by what we don’t know. Of course, there’s a base sexual interest in the genitalia of someone you’re attracted to, but that’s just part of the equation. This merely explains the origins of our interest in the genitalia of the opposite sex.

2. A female bodybuilder comes close to becoming a “man” without actually being one

Scientifically speaking, increased testosterone levels in female bodybuilders is the reason why their clitorises increase in size.

Known as “clitoromegaly,” it is defined as an abnormal enlargement of the clitoris that is either congenital (happens at birth) or acquired through the use of anabolic steroids (including testosterone). Clitoromegaly does not include the enlargement of the clitoris during sexual arousal.

During the embryo’s development, the genital tubercle formulates at around week 4 of gestation. This phallic outgrowth is gender-neutral (because the embryo has not established a gender yet), meaning it is neither a penis nor a clitoris. Its undifferentiated status changes during week 13. The sex organs become fully developed by week 16.

All of this boils down to the fact that the penis and the clitoris are homologous. Or in other words, biologically similar and related. Perhaps another way to look at this is to think of the penis and the clitoris as being “brother and sister” to one another.

Obviously, the male’s penis is much larger in size than the female’s clitoris. No amount of shrinkage in a blistering cold swimming pool will change that. But the concept that they’re structurally parallel remains the same.

The Italian Muscle Goddess Angela Salvagno.
The Italian Muscle Goddess Angela Salvagno.

Both provide the possessor of the organ sexual pleasure through orgasm. Both increase in size during sexual arousal. The clitoris’s sole purpose is to give the woman pleasure. The penis obviously, in addition to that, has two other functions – reproduction and urinating.

Didn’t think you’d get a Human Anatomy 101 lesson, did you?

But for male fans of female bodybuilders, the intrigue caused by an FBB’s unnaturally enlarged clitoris can be explained by the fact that this brings her very close to becoming a “man” without her actually becoming a man. Men who are fascinated with big clits don’t like them because they resemble a penis. Their fascination is rooted in the idea that this nearly gives her “male status” without giving her any of the power.

Obviously, having large muscles is mostly associated with maleness. Women are not commonly seen as possessing big strength as part of her natural genetic makeup. So anytime someone crosses that threshold, society tends to react negatively.

An enlarged “penis-like” clitoris is another (though much more hidden) facet of a female bodybuilder’s physical appearance that also crosses a taboo border. Outside of college campuses and gender studies enthusiasts, most of us in the world’s population believe there is a very definitive line between men and women. Culturally, yes, but especially biologically. So anytime we come across a person who messes with that paradigm, a number of different reactions can result.

Some are disgusted. Others are confused. Many are indifferent. But a small number are curious. And that curiosity can lead to embracing that person’s uniqueness. Men who love female muscle clearly embrace that uniqueness.

For many FBB-loving men out there, they find it exciting that a female bodybuilder can work very hard to achieve a physique that nearly encroaches on their male power, but can never ever come close to violating that. No matter how hard she tries, an FBB will always be a woman, unless she attempts gender reconstruction. A large clitoris is another reminder of that. The penis gives the man power (the power to give pleasure and the power to present his seed for reproduction). A large clitoris may somewhat resemble a penis, but it doesn’t give her a single ounce of his power. She’s still a female and he’s still a male, despite the fact she can deadlift more than him.

We can maintain our John Wayne-style machismo despite an FBB being physically stronger than us in every conceivable way. We’re Men with a capital “M.” You may be big, strong, and possess a clitoris that makes male porn actors blush, but you can never encroach upon our “maleness” no matter how hard you try. This attitude isn’t explained by misogyny (though I could be wrong), but instead pride in being who you are.

Skirting this fine line is very interesting to think about. The big question really comes down to: What makes a man a man and what makes a woman a woman?

Without getting into too much detail, clitoromegaly does not make a woman become a man, despite what you might hear on the Internet. She’s still a woman, though a very nontraditional looking woman. And even a weak man who can’t hold a candle up to an FBB in terms of strength can take solace in the fact that his penis (regardless of its size) will always make him a man.

3. Power play, power dynamics and sharing the love

This conveniently transitions into the third point, which is all about power. This point sort of contradicts the previous point, but the fascination with large clits has plenty of layers to it, even some that seem at odds.

Traditionally, the male penis has been associated with power. His ability to sexually satisfy a woman with his penis is his form of “taming” her or “claiming her as his property.” His penis is also the source of his seed, which creates life. She bears life, but he begins it. These notions might be outdated, but you cannot deny these motifs still exist to a certain extent.

In the previous point, we discussed how some men love the fact that FBBs are women who resemble men but remain women, which allows men to maintain their “maleness” without the fear of emasculation. On the other hand, some men love the fact that FBBs are amazing enough to cross that sacred threshold and embrace a level of gender ambiguity that totally turns the tables on everyone.

For some guys, an FBB with a big clit is her way of sharing his “maleness” and his male power but in her own special way. Her clit isn’t equal to his penis, but as far as power goes, they might as well be allied. Speaking for myself, I love FBBs with large clits because it gives her a heightened sense of sexual power. Not because her clit can penetrate anyone on a practical level, but because it gives her an element of sexual dominance that she doesn’t traditionally wield.

The very sexy Amber DeLuca.
The very sexy Amber DeLuca.

A vagina can be seen as being a subordinate body part. Its purpose is to be penetrated by a man for the reception of his seed. It serves a passive role. Many women today reject that notion and believe their vaginas are in fact active parts of their sex life. A large clit is one way of tearing down that paradigm. A large clit is an active avenue for a woman to be sexual. Whether she pleases herself through clitoral masturbation or enjoys her partner (male or female) stimulating her clit for her, her body becomes an active beneficiary of pleasure, not a recipient of enjoyment “by default.”

A woman with a large clit shares power with her male counterparts. She becomes a sensual creature who has the right to self-indulgence. It is this sense of sexual sovereignty that explains why lots of men love female bodybuilders. It’s not necessarily because FBBs are more sexual than “normal” women, it’s because we fantasize that they are. And of course, fantasy can be so much more exciting than reality.

4. We are intrigued by what is different

Sometimes, Occam’s Razor is the simplest explanation (see what I did there?). We are fascinated by what is different. A big clit is abnormal. Therefore, we are interested by it because of that.

Well, that was easy.

But seriously, as if men weren’t already turned on by a woman’s genitalia, larger-than-life genitalia should be considered a bonus. It mesmerizes us on a primal level. There’s something very titillating by the prospects of a woman possessing the strength, sexual prowess and social power of a man while still preserving her femininity. We’re turned on by her because she’s a gorgeous woman; but her muscles, large frame, enlarged genitals and masculine sounding voice (which is not always the case) gives her a special status that is almost impossible to put into words.

Is it female/male? Fe/male? Masculine feminine?

Perhaps a more accurate description is that she’s a “female plus.” Still a woman, not a man, but definitely possessing characteristics that heighten her femininity. While these characteristics may come across as being conventionally “masculine,” being masculine unto itself doesn’t mean you’re a man. It means you exhibit behaviors and physical traits customarily associated with men. A woman can take on these qualities and still retain her womanhood. Nothing has changed. We’re just shifting the way we view how men and women “should” look and behave.

Fall is here, so it must be time for Autumn Raby.
Fall is here, so it must be time for Autumn Raby.

It really is difficult to articulate why so many men love strong muscular women. Her genitalia is part of the equation, but not the entire explanation. There’s something about bending that fine gender line that brings out the passionate frenzy in us. We love our ladies, just a different kind of lady. Nothing wrong with that.

We acknowledge the existence of the traditional male/female binary (for better or for worse), but we aren’t afraid to go against the grain every once in a while. We love female bodybuilders because they’re women, but we certainly see resemblances of us in them. Deep down inside, we may not be that much different.

This is why men are fascinated with a female bodybuilder’s genitalia. Part of it is cultural. Lots of it is sexual. But a tiny part of it is intuitive. We don’t know why, we can’t explain why, but we just can’t get enough of Denise Masino’s beautiful and hypnotic pastrami sandwich.

I’ll take that on rye, please!

Everything You Wanted to Know about Muscle Worship but Were Afraid to Ask

Roxie Rain worshiping Lynn McCrossin. Oh, yeah!
Roxie Rain worshiping Lynn McCrossin. Oh, yeah!

You may have heard about it somewhere online. Maybe it was a chat forum. Perhaps it was on someone’s blog. Or maybe you read about it on Wikipedia or saw a documentary about it on YouTube.

Wherever you first heard of it, you probably have a lot of questions about it.

Who does this sort of thing? Why? What happens during it? How often does this happen? Who started it?

This topic would be “muscle worship.” You may have also heard about it referred to as a “session.” Regardless, you probably have a lot of questions about what happens during a muscle worship session, who does this sort of thing and why on Earth a female bodybuilder would want to offer these bizarre services.

Luckily for you, I’m about to enlighten you about what this is all about.

Muscle worship, essentially, is when a participant is allowed to touch, caress, fondle, rub and praise the muscles of a session provider. This is set up usually in a hotel room (for the sake of safety for both parties) for a set fee. The conditions of the session are arranged beforehand and agreed upon by both parties prior to the meeting.

Usually the muscle worship provider is a male or female bodybuilder, athlete, wrestler or someone who takes their lifting time at the gym seriously. Male bodybuilders can have female clients who are attracted to muscular men as well as gay male clients who love the same thing. Likewise, female bodybuilders can also host both male and female clients (although from what I’ve heard, most of their clients are men).

Because bodybuilding isn’t a very lucrative sport, many of these athletes need additional income to finance their lifestyle. Professional bodybuilders have to go through a lot to achieve their desired physique. It requires gym memberships (sometimes multiple gym memberships – depending on personal preference, availability of certain trainers and equipment, travel schedules and other living conditions), food, dietary supplements, drugs (though not everyone takes drugs), personal training fees, travel costs, marketing/advertising efforts and other expenses related to the business.

It should be obvious to anyone that professional bodybuilders lead an unorthodox life which requires taking unorthodox measures to fully live this life. Working part-time as a muscle worship provider is one of those measures.

Some bodybuilders travel from city to city to meet clients. Others just work locally. Many choose to never do these sessions at all. Everyone has to do what they got to do to survive. Popular bodybuilders often develop a following (that sometimes stretches internationally) of dedicated fans who schedule muscle worship sessions with them periodically. Sometimes returning clients whom the bodybuilders particularly like get discounts and “extra” services with each subsequent meeting.

Who wouldn't want to touch the muscles of Fanny Palou?
Who wouldn’t want to touch the muscles of Fanny Palou?

Personally, so far I’ve participated in four muscle worship sessions with four different female bodybuilders. Three were travelling into town and one was local. To be honest, I don’t know a whole lot about male bodybuilders and the sessions they provide, so my perspective here is limited to the female side of things. What I can tell you is that for anyone out there who loves strong women and has a fervent interest in meeting one of them in an intimate setting, I highly recommend you seek out a female bodybuilder who is coming to your area and schedule a session with her whenever you get the chance.

The pricing varies. Some women charge as little as $200 for an hour-long session and as high as $600. A session could last 30 minutes if that is the most you are able to afford. Others could last three hours or even the whole day if you want to make this more of a “date” instead of a simple appointment. Payment usually happens in person and many experienced muscle worship providers will require a deposit wired electronically to their bank account in advance.

There are websites that list the travel schedules of female bodybuilders, including wb270.com and sessiongirls.com. Many times the women list their schedules directly on their personal websites or Facebook pages. Finding out who is coming to your town or who already lives in your town isn’t terribly difficult if you know where to search.

As far as what goes on during a session, as mentioned before the conditions of the session should be discussed and agreed upon ahead of time, preferably before the deposit is given. Usually an FBB will at the very minimum wear a posing suit or bikini. For an extra charge, many will be willing to be either topless or completely nude. Sometimes the FBB will ask you what you want her to wear – whether it’s lingerie, a bathing suit or her birthday suit.

Most of the time the session will take place at a hotel room. For the sake of her own personal safety, an FBB doesn’t want to make “home visits” out of fear of not knowing the person they’re doing this session with. I don’t need to tell you that there are a lot of creepy and dangerous people out there. A hotel room is private, “neutral” and it’s an environment she can control.

Let’s take my first ever muscle worship session as an example. I contacted her via e-mail after seeing she was travelling to my city on wb270.com. After exchanging several e-mails, we decided on a one hour fully nude muscle worship session. She informed me she was staying at a motel in my city (conveniently for me, it was only a few miles away from my apartment). She also agreed to give me a hand job at the end of the session. I paid her an $80 deposit through her PayPal account and was given her phone number so I could text her 15 or so minutes prior to the session to find out which room she was staying in.

The chiseled physique of Heather Armbrust.
The chiseled physique of Heather Armbrust.

Now, this is where things get, ahem, interesting. This is probably the one aspect about muscle worship that most people are curious to learn: What types of sexual activities happen during a session?

Let’s back up for a moment and address the elephant in the room:

Are muscle worship providers prostitutes?

It’s a valid question. On the surface, it does certainly seem like what an FBB does with her clients resembles prostitution. The clients are paying money for services that are very sensual in nature. Sometimes actual sexual activity is performed. To be fair, if muscle worship is considered a form of prostitution, it definitely deserves to be in a subcategory of its own. It’s so different from the stereotypical image we get of a prostitute visiting her “john” that “erotic session” seems to be a more accurate label.

Of course, there’s something to be said about the word “prostitution” unto itself. It’s a very politically and socially charged word that brings about many connotations; both positive and negative (though mostly negative). As a culture, we think of prostitution as a seedy, dirty business between loose whores and desperately lonely men. This is unfair in many cases. Now, I’m not about to go on some pro-prostitution rant, because I will admit I’m not really informed enough to make an intelligent analysis on the subject. What I will say is that muscle worship is in fact a form of prostitution. You can’t deny it from a dictionary definition perspective. It involves someone using their body for money to perform acts of a sexual nature. That fits the objective description of “prostitution” as far as I can tell.

But understandably, a lot of people will be uncomfortable with this classification. Both FBBs and the men (and women) who love them. Trust me, I’m one of them. I love strong women so very much. I admire them enough to have started this blog. I’m a big enough fan of them that I’ve paid a handsome portion of my hard-earned dollars toward arranging muscle worship sessions with them.

I completely understand the taboo nature of the word “prostitute.” I understand how stigmatized this phenomena is in our culture and other cultures. I understand how difficult it must be to work in a profession where people out there either hate you for it or are disgusted by you for willing to participate in it. I can empathize with those (both the clients and the providers) who feel ashamed to be a part of it.

I get that. I get that this is why most FBBs refuse to call themselves prostitutes and vehemently deny their services fall into that category. I’m willing to bet many FBBs wish they didn’t have to engage in these sorts of activities. Can you imagine how difficult it must be to travel across the country (and world) and be away from your friends and family for extended periods of time just so you can meet complete strangers under secretive circumstances? I’m sure many of these women hate doing sessions. I’m sure many of them would quit – or at the very least downsize their involvement – if they had the adequate financial resources available to them.

Oooooh, Amber Deluca getting frisky with Victoria Dominguez. Yikes!
Oooooh, Amber Deluca getting frisky with Victoria Dominguez. Yikes!

Sadly, professional bodybuilding doesn’t make money. Only the elite competitors earn enough cash to call it a career. Endorsement deals, media exposure and prize money doesn’t exactly fall from the sky.

Of course, I can’t speak for all FBBs. I’m sure there are plenty out there who genuinely love doing sessions and meeting their clients. I’m sure there are lots of session providers who are proud of their work and are not ashamed of their on-the-side profession. But for those who are, or at least hold a certain degree of reservation for what they’re doing, I get why the label “prostitute” can hurt so much.

The woman I met for my first ever session is a mother whose daughter is only a few years younger than me. I met another who is married and another who has a long-term boyfriend back home. Can you imagine if you Googled your mother’s name and labels such as “whore,” “slut” and “skank” prominently came up? I’d be embarrassed beyond belief. Can you imagine being a husband and having to cope with the idea of your beloved wife pleasuring other men a whole ocean away from you? I can’t wrap my mind around that.

But I don’t want to get too melodramatic. I just thought it was appropriate to address the question many of you might be asking. Personally, when I had my four sessions, I never for one moment thought of the women I was meeting as prostitutes. I treated them kindly and with deep respect. I treated them like human beings, not living breathing sex toys. Of course, I’d treat a traditional prostitute the same way, but it never crossed my mind to treat these ladies as if they were any different from anybody else.

If anything, I treated them with more respect. I respect them for doing what they love regardless of the consequences. I respect them for doing something so socially unconventional and for enduring the weird stares, hurtful comments and awkward relationships it must create. If this is what they love doing, who cares what other people think? What others think about you is inconsequential.

But returning to the original question, what types of activities (both sexual and nonsexual) are offered during a muscle worship session? The possibilities are wide in range. This list is by no means complete or exhaustive:

  • Muscle worship
  • Wrestling (both competitive, semi-competitive and fantasy)
  • Role playing
  • Posing
  • Domination and submission
  • Lift and carry
  • Arm wrestling
  • Scissor holds
  • Face sitting, belly punching, boxing, smothering and other grappling/competitive activities
  • Fetish scenarios
  • BDSM activities (Bondage, Discipline, Sadism and Masochism)
  • Oiling
  • Sensual massage
  • Sexual acts (blow jobs, cunnilingus, hand jobs, dry humping, kissing and vaginal sex)

Typically, the furthest sexual activity an FBB will allow is giving her client a hand job at the end (also known as a “happy ending” for those of you unfamiliar with the euphemism). Anything beyond that either is never on the table or comes at a very steep cost. Sometimes actual sex (or “full service”) is only reserved for repeat customers because the FBB knows the person and presumably feels comfortable around them.

Many times, no sexual activity is allowed. Not everyone is willing to go that far. Nor should any session provider feel like they have to in order to stay “in business.” As with anything, whatever is mutually agreed upon prior to the session is fair game.

But the real reason why clients seek out these sessions is for the muscle worship aspect. Let’s discuss this a little bit more.

“Worship” isn’t necessarily to be interpreted literally. A client won’t deify the muscles of the session provider as if they were God or Allah incarnate. It’s “worship” in a more sensual, playful way. The men who participate in these sessions obviously share a fetish for female muscle. Just look up the words “sthenolagnia” and “cratolagnia” if you need a refresher.

A very erotic lady is Yvette Bova.
A very erotic lady is Yvette Bova.

Let’s put it this way: Strong women with big muscles are rare. Not everyone’s wife or girlfriend possesses the ripped, bulging muscles of Alina Popa. Not every lady out there can sport a chiseled physique like Victoria Dominguez. Women who look like Lisa Cross, Lauren Powers and Yvette Bova mostly exist in our wildest dreams.

So, the only way men can live out their fantasies is to participate in these sessions. Watching videos on the Internet or chatting with an FBB through her webcam only goes so far. Sometimes you need to experience the “real thing.” And muscle worship sessions are about as real as you can get.

“Worship” usually means feeling her body and touching her muscles to your heart’s delight. Sometimes you might pretend to worship her as if she was an actual Goddess, but role-playing isn’t always a factor here. The client may heap endless verbal praise onto her. He may treat her like a divine figure. But mostly, he just wants to feel those big beautiful muscles in his hands. He wants the tactile experience of being able to engage in his personal fetishistic fantasies.

Fetishism is really what this all boils down to. A fetish is defined as “any object or nongenital part of the body that causes a habitual erotic response or fixation.” These men fetishize the muscles of these women. It’s as simple as that. For whatever reason – her strength, muscles, bulk, size and power really turns you on. It turns you on to the point that you must experience it for yourself up close and personal even if it comes at a significant financial cost. But for anyone with a strong fetish for something, it’s worth every penny.

In a strange way, a muscle worship session is nothing more than a business transaction. You are paying someone for particular services. These services are usually done tax-free (meaning the government and the IRS will have no knowledge that these sorts of shenanigans are happening), but business is business no matter how it transpires. Everyone has to do what they got to do to get by, am I right?

After a session comes to an end, the client will try to leave the venue as discreetly as possible. If the hotel staff gets suspicious that possible illegal activity is happening at their establishment, the FBB could get in trouble. No one wants that to happen. So in light of that, here is a list of important protocol every client should keep in mind when setting up a muscle worship session:

  1. Be discreet: Because of the awkward nature of these sessions, it is important that everyone respects the privacy and anonymity of the other person. Would you want your boss or grandmother to know that you paid a woman $350 to touch her body? Yeah, probably not! So keep in mind the importance of not leaving a paper trail or compromising her identity if she wishes to remain inconspicuous. She may have kids, parents, relatives, co-workers, church friends and neighbors from whom she wants to keep her extracurricular activities a secret. This is why both parties must be discreet.
  2. Be respectful of each other’s boundaries: Make sure you agree on everything that is to happen at this muscle worship session beforehand. Never assume what’s on the table and what’s not. She may not want to do certain things with you. Respect those boundaries and don’t push your luck. Never do anything drastic before requesting permission. In fact, when in doubt, ask her. Ask her what you want from her. Ask her what is okay and what isn’t. This way, there won’t be any ambiguity going on. Preferably, ask her ahead of time so you can prevent being disappointed after the session ends.
  3. Keep open lines of communication flowing: In addition to always asking for what you want, make sure you maintain an open line of communication so you don’t get important details like hotel information or payment policies mixed up. You never want miscommunication to ruin your session. Remember, she has a stake in this too. She doesn’t want to disappoint. Help her help you.
  4. Treat her like a lady: Don’t treat her like a piece of meat whose only purpose is to serve your every whim. Don’t be a jerk. Respect her just as you would show respect to your mother. Treat her like a lady. She’s risking quite a lot to offer these sessions. She’s making sacrifices that deep down inside she might not want to make. So make it worth her while. Don’t demonstrate douchebag behavior. No one wants any of that nonsense.
  5. Don’t flake out: Yes, unexpected scheduling conflicts do occasionally happen. But don’t ever flake out on an appointment. These women travel thousands of miles to come to your city. Don’t promise her you’d show up for your 5:00 p.m. appointment only for you to completely blow her off. The cost of flying from airport to airport and booking hotel rooms is really expensive. Don’t flake out unless you have a very good excuse. And if you do, please e-mail, call or text her if something unexpected does unfortunately come up.
  6. Tell her what you want so that you can have the best session experience possible: In case you need a reminder, she wants to give you a good time. Very rarely does a session provider not care if you have a splendid time or not. They want to fulfill your fantasies and have you begging for more. This is good for business and ensures she can make a handsome buck in the process. This goes along the lines of constantly communicating with each other. Talk to her about what will make your experience the best it can be. Don’t shy away from the moment. Live a little!

After a session is over, many guys will write reviews on popular websites like saradas.org. Some FBBs might appreciate you sending them kind e-mails afterward so that she can post them on her website or on session directories. As always, if the FBB chooses to use a fake name, don’t “out” her on the Internet. That’s a big no-no. Anything written on a chat forum or blog can be read by millions of people. Don’t be “that guy.” If she doesn’t want her true identity revealed, don’t reveal it!

Even if you don’t know for sure if she doesn’t want her identity revealed, be on the safe side and keep things under wraps. After all, these sessions are very private in nature and should remain private. There’s no need for the entire world to know what happened during that one hour in that hotel room. You know…what happens in Vegas…

If everything turns out well and a year or two later she returns back to your city, you can set up another session with her! And who knows? She may decide to offer a little “extra” for her faithful clients.

My new female muscle crush: Lindsay Mulinazzi.
My new female muscle crush: Lindsay Mulinazzi.

Or she may not offer anything extra. Never feel entitled to anything other than what you two agree upon beforehand. Make sure she consents to everything. Never assume anything. Never leave anything unspoken that should be brought to light.

In other words, use common sense. That can’t be too hard, hm?

Whew. That’s a lot to cover. And I never even got into things like wrestling or BDSM. I’ve personally never done those sorts of things before, so my expertise on these subjects is admittedly limited. What I am reasonably knowledgeable about is traditional muscle worship. Trust me, it’s a very glorious world once you get into it!

Muscle worship is fun. It’s meant to be fun. It’s erotic fun, but it’s fun nevertheless. So have fun when you do it. Come with a smile. Prepare to enjoy yourself. Yes, it’ll be nerve-wracking right before it starts, but once things get going the butterflies in your stomach will go away.

I will admit that this article isn’t exhaustive about describing the world of female muscle worship sessions. Generally speaking, people will use the acronym “YMMV” to describe their experiences. This stands for “your mileage may vary.” This means every session provider is different and will be different depending on who you are and what you ask for. I can’t give you hard and fast rules. You have to see for yourself.

One last note before I end this lengthy article. As strange, odd, weird, peculiar, atypical and controversial as the concept of muscle worship may appear, at the end of the day there’s really nothing bizarre about it. Some men find muscular women attractive. Because muscular women are rare in our society, the only way for these men to enjoy this particular fetish is to engage in these sessions. That’s all there is to it. Certainly, these sessions are unorthodox in nature, but the reasons they happen are very simple.

Can I measure the beautiful biceps of Gina Davis?
Can I measure the beautiful biceps of Gina Davis?

We have interests and needs that we want fulfilled. If there are people out there who are willing to fulfill these needs, what’s the harm? No one is being forced to do this. Everyone on planet Earth has needs. You can’t escape that fact. So don’t think of muscle worship as being dirty, exploitative, deviant or immoral. It’s a simple business transaction between two consenting adults.

Yes, this transaction is erotic in nature, but that shouldn’t muddy the waters. Eroticism can be a beautiful thing. No one should be punished for living out their fantasies as long as no one gets hurt in the process. Hopefully there won’t be too much disagreement over this notion.

So there you have it. Everything (or mostly everything!) you wanted to know about muscle worship but were afraid to ask. This is just a starter. A primer. A summary. There is a whole world out there that even I am not totally familiar with. I am no expert. I’m just someone who operates a humble blog out here in the WordPress blogosphere.

Try for yourself what muscle worship is like if you’re truly curious. And guess what? You might be able to answer all these questions on your own!

The “Alternate Femininity” of Female Bodybuilders

A striking pose by Karen Garrett.
A striking pose by Karen Garrett.

The unfair stereotypes associated with female bodybuilders are both too numerous to list and cringe-worthy when heard aloud.

“Female bodybuilders are gross because they don’t look like women!”

“Female bodybuilders are disgusting because they secretly want to be men!”

“Female bodybuilders are unappealing because women aren’t supposed to be that muscular!”

“Female bodybuilders aren’t real women because…well, isn’t it obvious?”

How many times have you heard opinions like these? Maybe not word-for-word, but generally speaking does any of this sound familiar? In all likelihood, fans of female bodybuilders and female bodybuilders themselves have probably come across vitriol like this way too often.

In an attempt to shatter some of these negative stereotypes, let’s discuss a concept that a student of gender/sexuality studies should be well versed in: gender as a social construct.

The theory goes that the idea we’ve come to know as “gender” is an arbitrary set of rules, roles and beliefs that is artificially created by culture rather than inherent biology. The differences between men and women are considered “differences” because “we say it’s so.” While certain physiological characteristics separate the male and female sexes (genitalia, hormone levels, reproductive system, etc.), other factors like behavior, intellectual abilities and hierarchal positions in society are nothing more than just a product of the paradigms we’ve created over time.

If we assume this theory to have at least a certain degree of validity, this somewhat debunks the above mentioned stereotypes as, simply put, a bunch of hogwash.

Of course female bodybuilders are real women! They aren’t men. Men are men and women are women. A woman with muscles is still a woman, despite how (admittedly) unusual it is. Who says women aren’t supposed to be that muscular? Just because we don’t see that sort of thing every day doesn’t mean it shouldn’t happen.

The idea that female bodybuilders aren’t “feminine” plays into traditional gender roles that most human societies have adapted to a point. Yes, it’s true there are certain cultures out there where women are more of the “hunters” than the “gatherers,” but these types of societies are far and few between. For the sake of debate, let’s just assume that the “men are the stronger sex, women are the weaker sex” dichotomy is universally agreed upon.

Famke Janssen might be the most gorgeous woman on the planet.
Famke Janssen might be the most gorgeous woman on the planet.

It should be mentioned that “femininity” can have a fluid definition. Is “feminine” simply defined as any characteristics that a woman displays, or does there have to be a certain level of “social agreement” on these characteristics? For example, even though weightlifting is traditionally regarded as a male pastime, if more women took up the hobby, over time wouldn’t we start to associate the activity as more “gender neutral?”

Smoking was once seen as strictly a male-dominated activity. Then women started to smoke as well once feminism took off as a major social force. At the time, a woman having the right to smoke in public was a real feminist issue. Our society once upon a time ago looked down upon that suggestion. Then, things changed and both genders were given the “right” to light up a cigarette (now, ironically, smoking is looked down upon not for reasons based on gender, but health).

Perhaps it might be fair to say that female bodybuilders are part of an “alternate femininity.” They’re still feminine, but not in a traditional sense.

One could argue the decision of a woman to take up the sport of bodybuilding is unto itself a feminist act. It’s an act of a woman defying social expectations to achieve results that are both self-empowering and openly defiant of the “weaker sex” label. While many real life FBBs may not actively consider themselves “feminists,” no one can argue that the sport by itself creates problems in how we define traditional femininity.

A lovely pose by Alana Shipp.
A lovely pose by Alana Shipp.

But not “alternate femininity.” The sport of female bodybuilding doesn’t contradict gender roles; it makes it more inclusive of other roles. Men are not the only ones allowed to be physically strong. Women can too. This doesn’t violate the gender divide, rather it challenges us to reconsider whether a divide really exists in the first place (or should exist). Thus, gender roles can’t be contradicted if there is nothing at all to contradict.

The “alternate femininity” theory is based on the idea that if gender is a social construct, everyone is allowed to define gender in their own way. How can you be wrong in your own personal opinion?

So, we can now define “feminine” (and its counterpart “masculine”) in a new way:

Feminine is anything a woman is or does.

This definition completely eliminates the factors of social expectations and cultural rituals. Feminine is not defined as anything a woman is or does as defined by society, but instead anything a woman is or does PERIOD.

For example, if a particular woman likes to drink beer, watch football and play violent videogames, all these activities are “feminine” simply because a woman is doing it. It doesn’t matter that most of us associate these activities with the male species. What matters is what happens on an individual level, nothing more and nothing less.

Who wouldn't go gaga over Sofia Vergara?
Who wouldn’t go gaga over Sofia Vergara?

When we view the world of female bodybuilding through this lens, then theoretically we shouldn’t have any issues here. If a woman wants to bulk herself up, she has every right to. But not only does she have the right to do this, she isn’t betraying her sex, her femininity or her relationship with masculinity. A female bodybuilder isn’t seeking to become masculine. She’s still feminine. Just a different kind of feminine.

It begs to be mentioned that “separate but equal” is not what this is about. “Alternate femininity” is not a separate kind of femininity, but rather a substitute for how we commonly define as conventional femininity.

Alright. So…what’s really the point of all this nonsense?

The main purpose of this conversation is to prove the point that there’s nothing really unusual about straight men being attracted to muscular women. While on the surface this does indeed seem strange, when you logically play out this scenario from beginning to end, this is really much ado about nothing.

Straight men are attracted to women. This simple fact has been accepted for generations upon generations. But if we add the condition of “straight men are attracted to muscular women,” why does everyone suddenly become irrational and think this is some kind of abomination?

I want to be poolside by Simone Sousa!
I want to be poolside by Simone Sousa!

If one of your male buddies told you while you were hanging out over drinks that he thinks “Sofia Vergara is hot,” well, I can’t think of too many guys who would disagree. So why is it considered weird when that same guy also says “Alina Popa is hot”? It’s a matter of personal preference, not some arbitrary set of hard-and-fast rules about what kinds of women men are allowed to be attracted to.

This dispels the rumor that we love female bodybuilders because “they look like men” or that “we’re secretly gay.” This cannot be further from the truth. Our sexuality is not in question. When I fantasize about being with a woman like Amber DeLuca, I’m not thinking about her as one of my guy friends. I don’t daydream about downing cheap lagers with her while we shoot pool or go bowling. Instead, I’m imagining a scenario involving a romantic candlelit dinner, expensive red wine, flowers, an idyllic beach-side resort and hours and hours of very hot and sensual lovemaking.

Oh yeah!

I want to connect with her emotionally and intellectually, not just physically. My romantic fantasies involving an FBB would not seem out of place in a sappy Nicholas Sparks novel. Just the amount of weight the leading lady can bench press might differ a tad!

To summarize, let’s attempt to reduce this discussion to its most basic elements:

Men are attracted to beautiful women.

Sound crazy? Nope. Sounds pretty reasonable to me. As a straight guy myself, I can attest to how accurate this sentence is. Men are attracted to beautiful women. Who can possibly argue with that?

The caveat, of course, is that men define “beautiful” in different ways. And guess what? They have every right to! No man should ever constrict himself over what kinds of beauty he appreciates in the world. Life is too short to limit yourself. Never box yourself in. If there’s something in life that really gets your gears running, don’t shy away from it. Embrace it!

Aaaaaaaand finally, a much-anticipated photo of Adriana Lima.
Aaaaaaaand finally, a much-anticipated photo of Adriana Lima.

I am attracted to women like Lisa Cross and Lindsay Mulinazzi not just because of their muscles. You see, it’s not just about the muscles, or her strength, or her bulk. It’s everything about her. Their personalities. Their intellect. Their drive, dedication, motivation and desires. It’s the total package that makes me go gaga for them.

Simply put, I’m attracted to Miss Cross and Miss Mulinazzi because they’re beautiful women.

Denise Masino is a beautiful woman.

Gayle Moher is a beautiful woman.

Victoria Dominguez is a beautiful woman.

Iris Kyle is a beautiful woman.

Kate Upton is a beautiful woman.

Halle Berry is a beautiful woman.

Katy Perry is a beautiful woman.

They are all beautiful women. The only difference is how universally regarded their beauty is. It’s as simple as that. Most of us can agree that Bar Refaeli is super gorgeous. But not everyone can agree that Monica Martin is equally gorgeous. But the truth is that both opinions are correct. Who is to say that they’re wrong? To each his own, right?

Too often, when we discuss the subject of female bodybuilders and the men who love them, we get way too caught up in talking about an FBB’s muscles. Yes, her muscles are very important, but that misses the mark. To reiterate a previous point, it’s not just about her muscles. Her muscles are just part of why many men are attracted to her. Her muscles are not the “be-all and end-all” of her beauty. They are part of a larger package.

And what package is that? Simple. She’s a woman.

A woman. That’s right. A woman. A very beautiful (and muscular) woman, but a woman nevertheless.

Adriana Lima and Alina Popa are both gorgeous; no if, ands, or buts about it. They just are. No need to explain why. No need to put either of them in a separate category of gorgeousness. No need to justify Miss Popa’s beauty compared to Miss Lima’s. Nope. Both are stunning. End of story.

The “alternate femininity” theory of female bodybuilders really boils down to the simple idea that men are attracted to them because they’re women. We find them beautiful. We love their femininity. Granted, we may define “femininity” differently from the general population, but the essential idea remains the same:

Men are attracted to beautiful women.

This core concept is at the heart of why men like me and countless others love female bodybuilders. We find them beautiful. There’s no way I can reduce this argument any further. It is what it is.

Is there any ambiguity left?

How to Deal with Negativity Directed Against Female Bodybuilders

Love the tight red dress Glenese Markes is wearing.
Love the tight red dress Glenese Markes is wearing.

Let’s face it. Being a female bodybuilder isn’t easy.

And I’m not talking about the lifestyle, dieting, excruciating workout regiments, supplementations, lack of financial security, intense preparation, competitive nature of the business, paying for food/personal trainers/gym memberships, or any of that.

I’m referring to the negativity that can be directed against them on a daily basis.

I’m not a female bodybuilder, of course. But from what I’ve read in online comment sections, chat forums and Facebook conversation threads, nastiness targeted against our beloved ladies is all too common. The advent of the Internet has made this type of negativity easier to propagate.

To a lesser extent, fans of female bodybuilders (especially straight men) are also susceptible to mean spirited attacks, jabs, jokes and insults.

Now please don’t misinterpret me. I am in no way shape or form comparing the trials and tribulations of a female bodybuilder to that of their fans. The negativity we face does not even come close to comparing to the social taboo of a human female putting lots and lots of strong muscles on her body. There is no comparison.

But, both sides face unfortunate backlash nevertheless. This explains why so many of us choose to explore our female muscle fandom in secret. Anonymity is a gift from God. In today’s world, we are freer than ever before to pursue our interests without fearing our friends, family or neighbors will ever find out.

Female bodybuilders do not have such a luxury. Not only is the evidence of their life’s calling bare for all to see, it’s very difficult to hide other activities (such as offering muscle worship services, participating in pornographic photo/video shoots, maintaining a sexually explicit website, etc.) from the public’s eye. Not in our 21st century world of high speed communications and the proliferation of user-generated media.

So, it seems appropriate to discuss how female muscle fans should respond to such negativity. Insults, dehumanizing attitudes, negative stereotypes, gender-based discrimination – all of that exists out there for everyone to witness. And this goes way beyond the world of female bodybuilding. Politics, religion, pop culture, sports…the list goes on and on.

Why can explain this? Perhaps it’s just me, but it seems like our ability as a society to conduct calm, rational and productive dialogue has gone totally out the window. But, to be completely honest, this is a whole other discussion for another time.

For the time being, here are some practical strategies, tips and general guidelines both female bodybuilders (and I do know for a fact that a small handful of real-life FBBs regularly read my blog!) and avid fans of female bodybuilders can follow when dealing with negativity directed against our collective interests.

1. Negativity is inevitable and will probably never go away

This is a difficult reality to deal with, but unfortunately it’s true. I’m sure many of you have heard this popular catchphrase before:

Haters gonna hate.

Sound familiar? It should. Basically, the colloquial expression “haters gonna hate” means your critics are going to criticize you regardless of who you are, what you’ve done, or what you plan on doing. Celebrities, politicians, athletes, powerful business leaders and nearly everyone who puts themselves out there in the public domain will experience “hate” from someone.

I should hurry up and say that “hate” is a strong word, as our mothers have all pointed out to us before. While there are disturbed people out there who truly hate certain others (and have very dangerous ill intentions toward them), most of the “hate” I’m referring to is more of a “dislike.” Most of the negativity thrown toward a female bodybuilder on a Facebook conversation thread is not “hate speech.” I wouldn’t categorize it that way.

Erica Cordie showing off her triceps while wearing a gorgeous white dress.
Erica Cordie showing off her triceps while wearing a gorgeous white dress.

But feelings of disgust, distrust, suspicion, jealousy, envy and betrayal are par for the course for any celebrity, regardless of who they are or what they’ve actually done to garner this negativity. It’s going to happen. It sucks, but it happens and there’s no use in denying it or crossing your fingers and hoping it will miraculously go away.

It won’t. Sorry.

Haters gonna hate. It sucks. But you have no choice but to grit your teeth and live with it.

Now that we’ve established this fact, let’s move on to my next point…

2. You don’t have to personally respond to every bit of negativity

It’s tempting to respond to a bigoted comment with an equally bigoted one of your own. My recommendation is that you don’t do that. Try to avoid becoming the attacker yourself even after you’ve been the victim of an attack.

Even though the popular adage “fight fire with fire” is perfectly appropriate to certain areas of life, it simply isn’t always the most prudent strategy. If negativity is inevitable and will probably never go away (as we previously discussed above), then why fight against it? Why fight against every little attack that comes your way? Why pull yourself into battles that will make you lose your temper and could potentially ruin your day?

My basic point is that life is all about picking and choosing your battles. Some battles are more important than others.

If a complete stranger on the web thinks all female bodybuilders are gross and look like men, do you really want to feed into this troll’s desire to instigate a fight? If they truly feel that way and aren’t trolling, will viciously attacking them radically make them change their minds?

Probably not.

If you do feel obligated to respond to a severe ad hominem attack, consider why you’re responding and whether it’s worth the effort. Not every attacker deserves to be counter-attacked. Pick and choose your battles because if you exhaust yourself fighting a series of “little battles,” will you not be drained of all your energy once a truly “big battle” comes your way?

3. Consider the appropriate way to respond before actually responding

The problem with our instant gratification society is that we can speak our minds in a public forum at an instantaneous rate which leaves us vulnerable to letting our emotions get the better of us.

Thankfully, you don’t have to be like that. If you do choose to respond to vitriol, make sure your response is well thought-out, appropriate and productive.

Countering an inflammatory remark with one of your own only adds fuel to an already out-of-control fire. Don’t give in to that garbage. Instead, be the “better person” and take the “high road” if possible. Remember that the person you’re responding to is an actual human being who deserves dignity (and yes, respect!) even though you may not think he/she does.

Melissa Wee showing off her bikini body.
Melissa Wee showing off her bikini body.

I want to highlight the importance of “productive.” In my estimation, “productive” is achieved when you create an open dialogue that tries to reach a level of mutual understanding. You don’t necessarily need to “convince” this person to come over to your side, but you do need to communicate your point while at the same time understanding where they’re coming from.

I’m not telling you what to do. All I’m recommending is that whatever you do you should have some sort of tangible objective in mind. Instead of just satisfying a raw emotional need to lash out against your “haters,” consider what good can come out of this.

4. Never stoop down to their level

This is really important when trying to conduct a dialogue with someone. No matter how tempting it is to get in the trenches and engage in a war of words with them, never stoop down to their level. Even if it means bailing out on a conversation, you should always maintain your own dignity at all times.

We’re female muscle fans. We love strong women. Why should we get defensive whenever someone verbally attacks the women we love so much? We’re better than that. We need to be strong, too. We need to prove that our love for female bodybuilders doesn’t need to be defended. There’s nothing to defend. It is what it is. It’s our interest. We don’t have to justify ourselves to anyone, especially someone who finds our admiration for them disgusting.

Never reduce yourself to the point where you’re trading insults with more insults. Don’t argue that we love strong women because fat women are disgusting or a “real woman” has meat on her bones, not all skin and bones.

I have nothing negative to say about Danielle Reardon.
I have nothing negative to say about Danielle Reardon.

That’s not the right approach. Bringing down others in order to make yourself feel better is never justified. Becoming malevolent rarely ends well. Be cautious about your tone. Respond with ideas, not raw emotions.

5. Point out the positives of loving female bodybuilders whenever you can

I think there is great value in appreciating strong women. Not only are we encouraging women to pursue their dreams of strengthening and bettering themselves, we’re helping shatter the stereotype of women being “weak” or “dainty.” You only stay weak if you start to accept your weakness. By admiring female bodybuilders and athletes, we’re expressing our beliefs that women can be strong too (and that women should be strong). How can you not go along with that?

A great way to respond to negativity is to point out the positives. A positive mixed with a negative becomes neutral, right? I’m no chemist, but let’s pretend I’m right.

Point out that strong women are beautiful. Mention that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Never refrain from saying that female bodybuilders are some of the most driven, rebellious and hardworking human beings on this planet. Discuss the idea that men who love female muscle aren’t weird, but open-minded and open-hearted.

Counter hate with love. Don’t tear down a person’s argument by attacking them. Instead, try building up your own argument. People hate what they don’t understand. Make them understand.

Aleesha Young is simply a spectacle to behold.
Aleesha Young is simply a spectacle to behold.

6. When all else fails, tune out the noise

Sometimes, it’s best to just ignore the vitriol. If haters gonna hate, why even bother listening in the first place? You’re only going to just make yourself more and more angry.

Life is too short to be upset all the time. I understand there’s a lot of terrible stuff happening in the world every single day. I get that. But do you really have to let every little bit of negativity that comes your way affect you on a personal level?

Some people will never understand. Others will try to understand but still choose to be repulsed by it. Oh well. That happens. Shit happens. Accept it. Tune out the noise. Don’t let it drag on your psyche. Don’t let venom cramp your style.

Don’t hesitate to put on your imaginary headphones and play your own music if the tunes you’re stuck with in the real world suck big time. Just make sure you don’t bottle yourself up in a silo of self-righteousness. That is also unhealthy.

7. Enjoy your female muscle fandom in all its glory

Have fun. Go to bodybuilding shows. Watch videos of your favorite ladies working on their craft. Read their blogs. Visit their websites. Set up muscle worship sessions with them if they’re travelling to your area. Live out your female muscle fandom to the fullest.

I’m going to assume that female bodybuilders love their fans. Who wouldn’t? Be the best fan you can be. Don’t let those “haters” prevent you from pursuing your interests. Our interests are unusual. But they don’t have to be suppressed.

Explore your interests in a healthy way, of course. Don’t become a stalker or spend all your money on sessions when you don’t have the resources to do so. But never let society dictate what you like. You decide what you like. So like it!

***

To summarize, the lesson to be learned is simple: Always take the high road.

Always.

I understand why vitriol exists. People feel entitled to their opinions, and consequently, entitled to sharing those opinions! I’m a big fan of freedom of expression and freedom of speech. But with that comes the challenge of dealing with the inevitable hurt feelings, wounded pride and fear of public humiliation.

For all of us female muscle fans (and those of you who are actual FBBs), I suggest taking the high road whenever possible. Don’t feel scared about being attracted to a woman with muscles on her body. Embrace it! Don’t feel obligated to respond to every venomous comment. Life is too short to spend all your free time wallowing in bitter resentment.

Instead, be strong. Be strong in your convictions, your thoughts, your feelings, your interests. Be strong in who you are and what you like.

Always.

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?
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.
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.

The gorgeous Dr. Dena Westerfield.
The gorgeous Dr. Dena Westerfield.

“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.

A busy street in Mexico City.
A busy street in Mexico City.

“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.

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

Muscle beauty Flavia Crisos. As you know, none of the women featured in this post is GFBB. Her identity will always remain a secret.
Muscle beauty Flavia Crisos. As you know, none of the women featured in this post is GFBB. Her identity will always remain a secret.

The moment I realize I had forgotten to take a picture of her, I quickly shoot GFBB a text asking her if she’d be willing to send me a photo of herself.

Thoughts started to flood through my mind: Is this a creepy request? Would she be afraid I’d post this on Facebook or somewhere else and people would see it? Is she protective over her image and would refuse? Would she interpret this request as me bothering her (and perhaps becoming obsessed with her)? Will she think I’m being creepy?

Time passes. I hear nothing from her for a long time. Maybe she’s going to sleep. Maybe she’s ignoring me. Maybe I crossed a line by sending her this text…

Finally, GFBB responds. She says she fell asleep before I texted her. Ah ha! This is her exact message:

Sorry fell asleep . I will send u a pic and its not creepy  But that’s because it’s u asking

Whew! That solves that mystery. I knew we developed a positively rapport. I guess all my fretting was all for naught.

So off to bed I went. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, checked my email one more time and finally crashed into a peaceful slumber. Ah, bliss. My life resumed as normal afterward. I went to work the next day. That evening, GFBB sends me a text at 8:19 p.m. PST with the photo I had requested. It appears to have been taken at a hotel room (perhaps by one of her clients). It wasn’t the highest quality picture, but since receiving it I’ve treasured it as it were a precious family heirloom.

Lovely biceps of Zoa Linsey.
Lovely biceps of Zoa Linsey.

If I’m bored and have nothing else to do (usually when I’m at the train station waiting to get home from work), I’ll occasionally get out my phone and look at her photo. Then all the memories of our 75 minutes together would start flooding back.

Sentimental value, perhaps? Yeah, without a doubt!

All joking aside, life went on as it always did. I enjoyed a restful weekend. And come Monday, it was back to the normal grind. No more female bodybuilders, muscle worship sessions or playful text conversations with strong beautiful women for me for a while. I had my fun. Now it was time to see what came next.

Life can be full of unexpected adventures, n’est-ce pas?

***

So now I take you to the present day. At the time of this blog post’s publication, it is May 23, 2014. My fateful session (or is it “appointment?”) with GFBB was on May 23, 2013. Exactly one year ago today.

Wow. One year ago when I had my session with GFBB. While it does feel like a year ago, it’s funny how certain specific moments – even the trivial ones – are as sharp in my memory as ever before.

The first time I looked at her. When we sat down to chat. When the session finally started. When I got to kiss her. When she sent me the text with her photo attached to it.

I can remember the exact spot where I was when I opened that text. It’s funny how innocuous details like that stay with you forever after everything else more “important” passes on. Perhaps this is our brain’s way of telling us what’s really important in our lives.

Asian muscle Goddess Kiana Phi.
Asian muscle Goddess Kiana Phi.

Have I changed at all as a person as a result of this amazing muscle worship session with an equally amazing lady? The truth is, not really. I have changed a bit, but perhaps not as dramatically as I’d like to think. It is true that I’ve become bolder in pursuing adventures and opportunities that benefit me. It is true that I’ve had muscle worship sessions with three other FBBs (while I’ve enjoyed all of them, GFBB still holds a special place in my heart). It is true that my eyes have been opened to a whole other world I never knew before.

But, at the end of the day, I’m still the same person I was the moment before I knocked on her hotel door 365 days ago. In the past year, I’ve never returned to the parking lot of the hotel we met at; even though it’s a mere five minutes away from my apartment. There’s something special about your “first time” that you want to remain special. It wouldn’t feel right to return back there, even for sentimental purposes.

Speaking of sentimentality, that’s probably how I’ll always remember the 75 greatest minutes of my life. Was it truly the greatest hour and fifteen minutes of my time here on Earth? Eh, who knows…but that’s not the point. My feelings, thoughts and unorthodox “friendship” I developed with GFBB will always be a sweet dream that I’ll recount for many years moving forward. That’s valuable unto itself.

I’m still a fairly shy person. I still haven’t had much luck when it comes to women and romance. I’m still looking for full-time employment, although I’m reasonably getting by just fine working at two part-time jobs.

Who wouldn't want to touch the muscles of Monica Martin?
Who wouldn’t want to touch the muscles of Monica Martin?

I’m still Ryan Takahashi. That part hasn’t changed. I’m still me.

But, I’m not the same person I was leading up to 7 p.m. on 5/23/2013. Yes, I realize I’m contradicting myself, but bear with me for a moment. I may still be myself, but something tangibly is different. My muscle worship session with GFBB was, to be honest, one of the first times I’d ever done anything really selfish in my whole life. I paid $360 on something that was purely for me…and nobody else.

It was selfish. It was hedonistic. It was a “treat” I gave myself as a reward for being…well, me.

I deserve the opportunity to express my sexuality, aren’t I? I’m allowed to touch the beautiful muscles of a strong, gorgeous woman if we both consent to the circumstances? Of course!

Later on I will write a blog post exclusively about the concept of muscle worship itself, so I will delve further into this particular social phenomenon at a later date. But for this Epilogue, all I can say is this:

I love female muscle. I love strong women. And I can honestly say that reality definitely matches up with fantasy when it comes to experiencing female muscle up close and personal.

The incomparable Elena Oana Hreapca.
The incomparable Elena Oana Hreapca.

GFBB is a great lady. We briefly exchanged emails months later when she randomly discovered my blog and asked me about it (“Guilty as charged!”). But that’s the extent of our post-session communication. We’ve never spoken again. She hasn’t come back to Seattle since. I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to see her again.

If I do, great. If I don’t, well, that’s the way things are. No one ever knows how life will sort itself out. Perhaps our paths will cross again. Or perhaps not. But regardless, I’ll always have my memories. Sweet, sweet memories:

The giddiness of emailing with her.

The nervousness I felt during the week leading up to my session.

The anticipation of waiting in the parking lot.

The deep breath I took before I knocked on her door.

My heart stopping when I first laid eyes on her.

The pleasantness of chatting with her and getting to know her.

The awkwardness of getting started with the session.

The sensual pleasure I experienced during those 75 minutes.

The elation I felt immediately after our session came to a close.

The romanticized maudlin feelings I feel whenever I look at that grainy cell phone picture of her.

All of it. I love reflecting on all of it. I don’t think any future muscle worship session will ever come close to surpassing what I experienced one year ago today. That’s not a negative reflection on all the other FBB out there. No, instead it’s a reflection on my magical “first time” and how that experience can never be replicated. Nor should it ever be replicated. The fact it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience makes it that much sweeter.

If I had to summarize the whole experience in one single word, it would be this:

Damn.

The Scarcity Principle: What it Means, What We Can Learn From it and How it Relates to Female Bodybuilders

Cathy LeFrancois is the Holy Grail of female bodybuilders.
Cathy LeFrancois is the Holy Grail of female bodybuilders.

Let’s discuss a topic that’s relevant to both social psychology and economics.

The Scarcity Principle.

The Scarcity Principle refers to the belief that human beings tend to place a higher value on an object that is scarce and a lower value on objects that are abundant.

In other words, people are attracted to things that are in limited supply. We love anything that we consider to be “special” or “unique” or “available for a limited time only.”

We couldn’t care less for things that are readily available, accessible to the general public or are a dime a dozen. No sir! I want what nobody else can get.

If my cousin Bob and sister Jane can have it too…well, then count me out. I don’t want it anymore!

We can think of numerous examples in everyday life that confirm The Scarcity Principle. How about the Black Friday sales you see the day after Thanksgiving? If you think about it, any item that’s on sale on Black Friday is also available during the other 364 days of the calendar year. Yet, how can you say “no” to those low prices? How am I ever going to find discounts on washing machines this good anywhere else?

Or think of it in terms of the dating pool. Logically, we’d think that loneliness would never happen in a large metropolitan city. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Studies have shown (and I have no clue whatsoever who actually conducts these studies) that people have a harder time finding friends and romantic partners in a big city versus a smaller suburb or town. Why is this? Simple: When there are too many people around, you place a lower value on them.

Why date this particular guy or a girl when I have plenty of other options at my disposal?

Yet, people remain lonely despite these alleged “plenty of other options.” When you hear people say there are plenty of fish in the sea, it leaves a heartbroken person little comfort. Because, ironically, that’s the problem unto itself! There are way too many options out there for you to choose from. So, you get antsy and decide not to choose anyone at all.

The one and only Tina Chandler.
The one and only Tina Chandler.

It’s better to be safe (alone) than sorry (in a relationship that you ultimately find boring and unfulfilling), one rationalizes to one’s self.

According to census data, in 1950 the world’s population was approximately 2.5 billion people. Today, it’s well over 7 billion. That means in 64 years (which isn’t that much time when you consider how long humans have lived on this planet) the number of people on Earth has nearly tripled. Tripled! Think about that. At the end of World War II, for every person on the planet there would be two more today. If you killed (or magically transported to Venus) two-thirds of our population, you could return back to the days when Communism was considered the next big thing and poodle skirts were all the rage.

Oh, what a simpler time that was!

Yet, despite these statistical facts, we see worldwide an explosion of online dating websites, high divorce rates and loneliness in urban cities. With more people around, shouldn’t we have an easier time finding the love of our life? How can we not have enough friends when there are 7 billion potential buddies occupying this floating rock in space together?

Seem counterintuitive? It should, because none of this makes any logical sense. But, if you really think about it, all of this makes perfect sense.

Think of it this way. Imagine you’re about to have dinner at a restaurant. You’re celebrating a birthday, anniversary or just having a special night out on the town. You sit down (let’s imagine it’s an elegant Italian place), open the menu, scan your options and are dumbfounded. What do you order? I mean, there are so many dishes I could pick! I could get a pasta dish, a pizza, a calzone, a dinner salad, something from the seafood section…or I could sell out and get a hamburger.

I like hamburgers. Sure, I’ll go with the cheeseburger and fries, Mrs. Salvatore!

Having too many options makes people nervous. What if I choose the “wrong” option even though there probably isn’t a “wrong option” in the first place? Odds are every dish at this fine restaurant will provide you a great tasting dinner. But there’s that sliver of doubt in your mind that tells you one dish has to be superior to the rest. And you’d be a fool to pick the wrong one.

Monique Hayes is ready for her close-up!
Monique Hayes is ready for her close-up!

So do you ask your waiter or waitress to make a recommendation for you? Or do you close your eyes and randomly select a choice with your index finger? Either option would probably work equally well. Or you could simply order what someone else is having (“I’ll have what she’s having”), thus putting the decision-making pressure off of you.

The same goes for economics.

I don’t want the tablet device or smartphone that all my neighbors have. I want the newest model that none of these suckers have…even though they’ll eventually get it a year or two from now.

Because, let’s be completely honest here, who doesn’t want to be the envy of your pals for having the nicest and shiniest new toys?

Corporations and marketing teams exploit The Scarcity Principle to the point where it’s become a science. Figuring out how to maximize profit in a short amount of time given a limited supply of a particular product isn’t difficult to do. Create limited-time offers. Hype up a sales day. Intentionally release your new products slowly. Create an advertising strategy that implies that not everyone should use this product, but you can.

Everything boils down to making an object feel special even if it’s not. Conversely, when an object is in abundance, you don’t want it as much. Fifteen years ago it was cool to have a cell phone because no one else had one. Today, everyone and their grandmother has a smartphone that can call, text, surf the Internet and wash your car. Now it’s become mainstream. And nothing sucks more than something that’s lost its coolness and has become so damn ordinary.

A buff, beautiful Asian woman. Amanda Lau is scarce, indeed.
A buff, beautiful Asian woman. Amanda Lau is scarce, indeed.

So, let’s do a quick recap. We value things that are scarce. We don’t value things that are common. We get overwhelmed by too many options. We get underwhelmed when a previously rare commodity becomes commonplace. In a nutshell, supply (either the abundance or shortage of it) warps our perceptions of the actual value of said supply.

What can we learn from this? Simple. It is important to place a value on everything – using our own objective criteria – so we know what something is worth despite what external influences may tell us.

Don’t let clever marketing strategies or base emotions dictate how you view the value of something or someone. Your cute but shy co-worker who’s always around could very well be more valuable than that elusive hot blonde you see at the bus stop every day. You don’t need “new” gadgets when the “old” models work just fine. Too many options can be a bad thing despite what consumer culture tells you.

The Scarcity Principle tells us that the dynamics of supply and demand, while it has nothing to do with altering the intrinsic worth of an object, can manipulatively make us place artificial values on objects for no good reason. A slice of pizza from a shopping mall food court isn’t necessarily less delicious than a slice of pizza at a 5-star hotel. It could be, but don’t automatically assume so.

That guy who’s playing “hard to get” isn’t necessarily better “boyfriend material” than the shy fellow who lives next door to you who’s kind, sweet but a tad socially awkward.

So, what does this have to do with female bodybuilders?

Good question!

Female bodybuilders, like fine French wine or a blood red moon, are rare. Period. They aren’t available in everyday life. Millions upon millions of women in our society don’t look like Lora Ottenad or Kasie Cavanaugh. Oh, it would be sweeeeeeeeeeeeeet if that were the case, but sadly it isn’t.

The Scarcity Principle might explain why many men (and women) idolize female bodybuilders to the point of developing an obsession with them. We obsess over them because their rarity grants them God-like divine status in our eyes. We love them for all the traditional reasons (sex appeal, gorgeous bodies, stunning physiques), but we also love them because there’s this thing about them you can’t teach:

Mystique.

Female bodybuilders are mystifying. They pique our curiosity. Their mysteriousness titillates us. Muscular women are like a Rubik’s Cube. No matter how much you try to figure them out, they keep throwing more twists and turns at you to keep you guessing for all eternity. How do they look like that? Why do they want to look like that? What drives them to look like? When a female bodybuilder walks into a room, everyone’s attention instantly focuses on her. Some are aroused. Others are disgusted. A few are confused and conflicted. But the reaction that speaks loudest is this: Reverence.

We revere those whom we are attracted to but feel separated from. Female bodybuilders aren’t normal women. Technically, they’re no different from anybody else, but hot damn! How can you not become obsessed with Cathy LeFrancois or Catherine Holland?

Their ambiance is so captivating. And once you get your first taste of muscular women, you can never go back.

How much reverence do you have for Nicole Ball?
How much reverence do you have for Nicole Ball?

The deification of female bodybuilders is caused by The Scarcity Principle. There’s no other explanation for it. These women are beautiful rare specimens. Like a brilliant diamond sparkling on top of a museum pedestal, we fixate over them because they seem so far away from us. For most of us, a genuinely large female bodybuilder is probably nowhere to be found. I don’t know about you, but FBBs who look like Katka Kyptova aren’t exactly regulars at the Starbucks across from my apartment.

No wonder why many FBBs do “sessions” with their adoring fans. Where else are regular folk going to be able to touch the rock hard muscles of an exquisite muscular woman? Popular session providers can probably make a healthy amount of income (all tax free, no doubt) when all is said and done. One road trip across America, Europe and anywhere else a female bodybuilder decides to embark upon could put a lot of dough in her pocket – even after she takes travel expenses into account.

So there you have it. Now you have a better understanding from a psychological and economic perspective why we love female muscle so much. Their scarcity gives them power. Their uncommonness (yes, that’s actually a word) gives them the ultimate bargaining chip.

Female bodybuilders aren’t like ice cream flavors at Baskin-Robbins or used bicycles on Craigslist. Female bodybuilders are like The Holy Grail from the Arthurian legend.

A divine object that can make men go mad with obsession. Men will kill each other just to have it. She holds all the power. We commoners are powerless to resist.

Not that we’d want to resist, of course!

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