Shawn Tan – The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi

A Most Magnificent Body of Work – Part One of Five

One more set, Debbie. That’s it. Just one more set.

Looking up at the bench press bar, Deborah knows she has only one more set of ten repetitions remaining before her chest workout would come to an end. Then she could cool down, work on her abs, shower, buy a protein smoothie, and go home.

At this point Deborah has worked her way up to benching 275 pounds. The only woman currently in the weight room, all eyes are on her and she’s well aware of it. Some men are rooting for her, others are hoping she will fail. But Deborah is determined to prove everybody wrong. Even her supporters.

“Alright, time to do this motherfucker,” Deborah whispers to no one in particular.

Deborah places both hands on the bar, equidistant apart, and lies down on the bench. Her forehead is dry, not a single drop of sweat is left remaining in her body. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and imagines herself pumping this bar up and down ten times before putting it back on the rack. She can do this. She’s done this many times before. Even with all these idiots watching her. For her, pre-visualization is the key to success. If you cannot imagine yourself doing it, how can you actually do it?

Time to do it, Debbie. Time to make yourself stronger. Stronger than you’ve ever been before.

She opens her eyes, focuses on the ceiling fan above her, grips the bar tight with both hands, and lifts the bar off the rack.

Deep breath in.

Down, exhale, up. One.

Inhale.

Down, exhale, up. Two.

Inhale.

Down, exhale, up. Three.

Inhale.

Down, exhale, up. Four.

Inhale. Slight exhale. Another inhale.

Down, exhale, up. Five.

Inhale.

Down, exhale, up. Six.

Deep inhale. Holy shit. This is getting tough. Dammit.

Down, exhale, up. Seven.

Her eyes burn when a drip of sweat seeps into her eye socket. She was under the impression her body had no sweat left in it. She is wrong.

Fuck.

Inhale.

Down, exhale, up. Eight.

Fuck!!!

Inhale.

Down, exhale, up. Nine.

Oh, shit. She has to give up. Her arms tremble. She feels her elbows start to wobble. She’s going to drop the bar and smash her neck in half. She needs a spotter. But no! She refuses to give up. Nobody tells Deborah she can’t do anything. Fuck that shit. Deborah can do whatever the fuck she wants. Fuck the world. Fuck her doubters. Fuck anybody who thinks she’s a weakling because she’s a woman. Fuck that!!!

Inhale.

Down, exhale, up, up, up, up!

Just a little bit more….

Ten.

Deborah groans loudly, her booming voice reverberating across the room. She couldn’t care less if she’s distracting her fellow exercisers. This is all about her, nobody else. Fuck everybody else.

On the verge of collapsing, Deborah places the bar back on the rack and drops her arms to the floor. She’s gasping for air harder than a heavyweight prize fighter after the twelfth round. Her chest feels so tight it could burst with the prick of a needle. Her arms feel like jelly. She doubts she can move a single muscle until tomorrow morning.

But she has to move. She can’t spend the night and sleep here. No way. No fucking way.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. This is a classic case of mind vs. matter. And in Deborah Frost’s case, her mind won. She kicked matter’s ass. Big time. Oh yeah.

Yet another tall muscle goddess, this time it’s Shawn Tan.

After a minute or two (which felt like an hour), Deborah sits up, grabs her towel, and wipes herself off. She then stands up, wipes down the bench, and proceeds to take the weight plates off the bar and place them back where they belong. Her “audience” has moved on and returned to their own little worlds. She just bench pressed all that fucking weight and her doubters are left to eat their own shit. Let them eat shit.

Time to do some ab work.

Deborah’s tall 6 foot 2 inch frame is covered from head to toe with big, thick muscles. As ripped as a professional bodybuilder and athletic as an Olympic gymnast, Deborah Frost is a unique, one-of-a-kind physical specimen. She doubts anybody in the world has ever had a body quite like hers. And she’s determined to make sure it stays that way.

At 27 years old, Deborah is certainly young enough to still be in the prime of her physical potential. Everything depends on her work ethic. And her work ethic is off the charts.

Forty-five minutes later, Deborah is stark naked and standing at a shower stall, feeling the hot water cascade off her strong, muscular body. She is not alone, showering alongside a short elderly woman, a grossly obese high school girl, and a young ditzy blonde who looks like she could be a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader.

Mmmm. Delicious. She’d love to lick her sweet pussy. She looks so soft, so sweet. She must smell like roses.

But Deborah isn’t usually into girls like her. She prefers women like Cassandra, her long-time girlfriend who lives with her. Like Deborah, Cassandra is as strong as an ox and refuses to let anybody tell her she can’t do anything. She’s just got back home after serving an eight month-long tour of duty in Afghanistan with the U.S. Marines. Cassandra was wounded when a road-side bomb hit her patrol vehicle, lodging a long piece of metal into her left leg. She sees a physical therapist every single day to help her recover.

But all Deborah could think about is fantasizing about Cheerleader Girl. That, and getting clean. Maybe she should focus more on getting clean.

Cheerleader Girl turns off her shower and walks away to her towel hanging on the wall. Deborah watches her curvy, round butt sway from side to side as she struts. Deborah can feel an electrical current pulsate between her legs. God, she needs release. Really bad. All this pent-up energy can’t be taken out through a workout. She needs a good, old-fashioned fuck.

Cassandra can help her with this when she gets home.

After her shower, Deborah quickly dresses and buys a small protein smoothie at the gym’s food bar. Her preference is banana strawberry. It’s fucking fantastic.

“Thank you. Have a good night,” the Smoothie Guy says. Deborah cannot remember his name to save her life and it’s beyond the point of embarrassment to ask him again. So she just smiles and nods as pleasantly as she can.

“You’re welcome. See you next time!”

He’s cute. A bit short and pudgy, his dark hair and perpetual five o’clock shadow is too irresistible to ignore. Deborah hasn’t had sex with a guy in nearly a decade, but she’d consider it if Smoothie Guy ever mustered up the courage to ask her. Or the foolishness to ask her. Same thing.

“See you tomorrow, right?” The Front Desk Gal asks.

“Yup, tomorrow. For sure. Today was chest day, so tomorrow is back and shoulders. Got to balance yourself out, you know what I mean?” Front Desk Gal nods. Deborah flashes her a subtle smile and sashays out of the gym.

The time approaches 10:30 p.m., which is a little bit later than she’s used to working out. Today she had a late start because she had to drive Cassandra to and from her therapy appointment. Usually she can snag a ride from her sister, but not today. Today, Cassie’s sister was meeting with her brand new sugar daddy. Deborah hopes things work out this time. Heaven knows she needs one right now.

Tonight, Deborah parked her car in the back lot. The gym’s super popular Zumba teacher taught back-to-back classes today so the front lot was completely full when Deborah arrived. Oh well. It could be worse. Heck, odds are stupid aerobic classes like that keep the gym in business. So she doesn’t have a whole lot to complain about.

Deborah fumbles with her car keys. She really needs to simplify how many damn keys she carries around in her tiny purse–

“Miss Frost?”

Deborah turns around to see whose voice it is that called out her name. It’s pitch black outside, so it’s nearly impossible to properly see who it is.

“Yes? Who is it?”

Standing next to a broken light post smoking a cigarette is a thin man wearing a black overcoat, a burgundy red fleece scarf, and a light gray fedora. The man approaches her nonchalantly. Even though she has every reason to feel threatened, she remains calm and collected. The man takes one last drag and tosses the cigarette on the ground. He steps on it for good measure.

“Good evening. Don’t feel alarmed. I’m not with the paparazzi or anything like that,” the man says. “I know people like that are constantly swarming you.”

“From time to time. But not for a while.” Deborah briefly dated in college a guy who was the school’s stud quarterback. He was drafted in the top ten and played two seasons in the NFL before overdosing on heroin. Deborah had broken up with him prior to his death, but the mysterious circumstances surrounding his sudden passing made her the subject of a criminal investigation. His fame, combined with her unusual muscular body, created a temporary media firestorm. Eventually, her name was cleared and she resumed living her life as normal.

Mysterious man wearing a fedora and smoking a cigarette.

She and William never had sex because he was secretly gay but refused to publicly come out. She was just a “girlfriend” for show. He felt like being outed would hurt his chances of playing in the pros. He wasn’t totally wrong. She went along with the charade as long as she received a cut of his paycheck. He agreed to this arrangement. Their phony relationship resulted in her receiving $15,000 per month from him in cash. They were both happy with this “business arrangement.” They both benefitted. But eventually even that had to come to an end, like everything does.

“I’m glad. It’s good to see your life has returned back to the way it was.”

“What do you want? An autograph?”

The Thin Fedora Man takes another step toward her. Deborah’s heart rate increases slightly.

“Oh, no. I’m not looking for that at all. I’m actually here to deliver a message to you. Would you like to hear it? I believe you will find it financially rewarding.” Deborah’s ears perk up at the mention of money. Due to her living life as a professional bodybuilder – which pays very little – and Cassandra having to spend so much of her money on therapy sessions, money is always tight with them. Always.

“Go away.” Deborah unlocks her car and takes one step toward it.

“Very well. As you wish. I will inform my client that you have refused his offer before even hearing it. He will be quite displeased with this news.” The Thin Fedora Man turns around and walks away. Impulsively, Deborah shouts back at him.

“Wait! Come back. I want to hear your offer.” The Thin Fedora Man stops dead in his tracks and smiles. He turns around and faces Deborah, a woman who is by far the most muscular he’s ever seen in his life.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I want to hear it. Go on.” How fucking pathetic does she look right now? Deborah shudders at the thought of her actually talking to a complete stranger who claims to represent someone interested in giving her a lot of money…

“Fantastic. I will not reveal my client’s name, but he will reveal himself if you choose to meet with him. He is offering you this: My client wants to spend one evening with you at a location of his choosing. The time parameters will be agreed upon beforehand,” he says.

“During this time together, he asks that you allow him to do whatever he pleases with you. Whatever he pleases, if I may reiterate that crucial point. Don’t worry, no physical or psychological harm will come to you. He can assure you of that. In return, you will receive $1 million in cash on the spot. No questions asked. No need to do anything else after that.”

Deborah can smell Thin Fedora Man’s smoky breath from several paces away. She tries to not cough. The struggle is real.

“Wow. That’s quite an offer. I’ll give you and your client credit. I’ve never been approached before about something so elaborate. But my answer is still no,” Deborah says. She begins to walk away toward her car for the second time.

“He figured you would immediately refuse. I also can sympathize with your reaction. This is why he’s offering you this ahead of time.” Thin Fedora Man takes out a white envelope from his coat pocket and hands it to Deborah. “It’s $10,000 in cash. Straight up. Even if you ultimately refuse my client’s offer, the money is still yours. No need to return it. Go ahead. Open it. It’s yours.”

Cautiously, Deborah takes the envelope from him and opens it. She peers inside. Sure enough, a thick stack of 100 dollar bills greets her. She gasps.

“Fuck me. You’re not joking around,” she mutters under her breath.

“No, he is not,” Thin Fedora Man chuckles. “Also inside this envelop is a business card with a phone number that you are to call if you would like to take him up on his generous offer. You have 48 hours to respond. If he does not hear from you, he will then pursue other potential candidates for this particular escapade. Understood?”

Unable to believe her eyes, Deborah looks up at Thin Fedora Man and nods her head faintly. “Yes, I understand completely.”

“Good! We look forward to your response. Have a pleasant rest of your evening, Miss Frost.”

And just like that, Thin Fedora Man turns around and calmly walks away. He gets inside a car parked several yards away and turns on the engine. Deborah still has not moved an inch since looking at the stack of bills. She sees red break lights illuminate the pitch black parking lot as the vehicle driven by the enigmatic man backs up. A chill runs down her spine.

“Holy hell. Is this guy for real?” she says to herself.

Dumbstruck and clutching the envelope as if her life depended upon it, Deborah can do nothing but watch Thin Fedora Man’s car speed off toward the main highway, leaving behind a thin trail of dust floating around in the darkness.

To be continued…

Who is Your Fantasy Female Bodybuilder?

Tall, strong, and beautiful. That's Shawn Tan. — Tall, strong, and beautiful. That’s Shawn Tan.

I present to you a simple question: Who is your fantasy female bodybuilder?

The answer to this question isn’t necessarily your favorite FBB or the one you find to be the most beautiful. It’s the one you fantasize about the most often – whether you consciously choose to or not. Sometimes daydreams (especially of the erotic variety) have a way of popping into your head without you knowing it, you know what I mean?

So let’s provide a hypothetical scenario that you should consider for kicks and giggles:

You have a whole evening to spend with the female bodybuilder of your dreams. From 6:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. the next morning, you have twelve consecutive hours to spend with her. You can do whatever you want with her. Nothing is off limits. Of course, in this dream scenario she’s an enthusiastically willing participant. So you don’t have to worry about trying to impress her or capture her attention. You’ve already established that beforehand!

You can spend the evening doing whatever strikes your fancy. A romantic candlelit dinner complemented by an ice cold bottle of champagne can start the festivities. Or you could attend a concert together. Or the opera. Or an art museum. Or a BDSM dungeon. It doesn’t matter. It’s totally up to you what you do together with her.

Eventually, you’ll want to make love to her. Will it be slow and sensual? Or suave and romantic? Or dirty and kinky? Will it involve rose petals and fine wine? Or handcuffs and whips? Likewise, it’s totally up to your imagination. Anything is possible.

You can spend the whole evening caressing her gorgeous muscular body and making love to her, or you can choose to cuddle and fall asleep like two old lovers. You can be at an idyllic seaside resort, a snowy log cabin in the middle of the woods, or at a luxurious penthouse suite that sits several stories above the city. Or, if you’re into this sort of thing, you can be tied up in a secluded basement somewhere surrounded by hot candlewax, clothespins, and a blindfold.

Regardless of where your imagination takes you, you will enjoy the evening like nothing else had ever existed before it. You will enjoy the pleasure of her company, as will she enjoy yours. But once 6:00 a.m. rolls around, she instantaneously disappears and you are magically transformed back to your normal life – as if nothing had ever happened.

No consequences, no witnesses, no strings attached.

Just you and her. Nobody else. Threesomes may strike your fancy, but for the sake of this hypothetical situation, you can only choose one female bodybuilder to spend the evening with for twelve glorious erotic hours.

So…who do you got?

For me, this is a tough one. There are so many gorgeous female bodybuilders in this world of all shapes, sizes, ethnicities, nationalities, and personalities that it’s way too difficult to choose one I would want to spend an entire evening with. I do know that regardless of who I choose, I’m going to have a swell time!

Instead of telling you up front who I would choose to be my Fantasy Female Bodybuilder, I will tell you my top three in descending order. After all, I don’t want this to be the shortest blog post of all time, so I need something to discuss. So cue the drumroll, please.

Second Runner Up: Alina Popa

How strange a world we live in when Alina Popa, The Undisputed Queen of Female Bodybuilding, finishes in third place. But that’s how things operate in my active imagination. I once wrote a blog post saying that Alina Popa is my #1 favorite female bodybuilder of all time. I’m not sure if that’s still how I feel, but I’m a sucker for someone who’s at the top of their game and is currently considered one of the best (if not the best) in her sport.

Alina is one smoking gorgeous woman. She’s huge but still undeniably feminine. Her adorable Romanian accent doesn’t hurt, either! She lives in Lakewood, Colorado right now, which I suppose makes her an honorary American. She might be a U.S. citizen, but I can’t confirm or deny that. Regardless, my home country is richer and better off because Miss Popa resides in it.

What makes Alina great is her impeccable balance between being hypermuscular and strongly feminine. As a Ms. Olympia contestant (she definitely would have won a few had Iris Kyle decided to retire a couple years earlier) Alina possesses an impressive amount of muscle mass. Have you seen her arms? She could probably crush a watermelon with her bare hands if she wanted to.

But she’s also feminine in every sense of the word. Her face is traditionally beautiful and has not developed any unseemly masculine qualities over time. Her voice remains unquestionably lyrical, even though she does speak from a slightly lower register than most other women. She doesn’t seem arrogant, egotistical, or condescending. Then again, I’ve never personally met Alina, so I don’t actually know what she’s like in real life. But I’d imagine she’s a sweet lady with a big heart.

Alina has chosen not to get breast implants, so she allows her chest to remain flat as she enters her peak condition. Personally, I love female bodybuilders who decide to stay “natural.” I don’t judge at all any muscular woman who chooses surgical enhancements (she’s in control of her own body, of course), but I have a soft spot for FBBs who don’t care what society says and proudly lets her breasts shrink as her muscles get bigger and bigger.

As a premiere world-class female bodybuilder, I’d love to just chat with Alina and learn about her life’s journey. How did she get into bodybuilding? What drives her to become an elite-level competitor? What are the biggest challenges she faces on a daily basis? What major obstacles have she had to overcome? What are some obstacles she has yet to conquer? Where do you go from here? Inquiring minds need to know!

A romantic evening, alone with Alina and her flawless body, is just what he doctor would order – assuming my doctor understands what’s good for me. Perhaps in a different universe I would choose Alina to be my #1 Fantasy Female Bodybuilder. But in this concoction of reality, she is only #3, as astonishing as that sounds.

Angela Salvagno isn't for everyone, but she's definitely the gal for me! — Angela Salvagno isn’t for everyone, but she’s definitely the gal for me!

First Runner Up: Angela Salvagno

Angela Salvagno is a rare female bodybuilder who understands why guys love female bodybuilders and is not afraid to maximize her assets for personal gain. My #1 Fantasy Female Bodybuilder is the expert at this endeavor, but we’ll get to her a little later. For now, let’s indulge in Angela’s greatness.

Unlike Alina, Angela isn’t for all tastes. Her raspy voice and unique-looking face (which could be a euphemism for “homely”) doesn’t appeal to everyone. But what I love about Miss Salvagno is her undiluted sexiness and unapologetic way she shows off her beautiful body. She doesn’t try to appeal to a mass audience and instead hones in on her specific targeted audience. In many ways, Angela is an exemplary model of the modern-day female bodybuilder: She accepts she’ll never be mainstream but doesn’t hesitate to appeal just to the people who love her for who she is.

So, who is she exactly? Angela is a woman who revels in her fetishistic allure and proudly showcases what makes her fans love her. She will show off her large clitoris for the camera. She does not hesitate to reveal every inch of her body. She gives us permission to watch her, drool over her, jerk off to her, and fantasize about her. She allows us to fetishize her muscles without apology and without embarrassment. In other words, she wants us to fetishize her!

She knows not everyone will “dig” her look, but she doesn’t care about that. She could give a rat’s ass about people who are disgusted by her. Instead, Angela is just as comfortable sporting a leather-bound dominatrix costume and stroking a comically oversized black dildo as she is masturbating for the camera (and showing us her vulnerable side) while she screams and moans toward another orgasmic climax. She doesn’t pretend that millions of people will watch her do these things because she’s perfectly happy with a few thousand watching her instead.

I’d love to spend an evening with her because she’d know what I’d like to do with her. She can be a “bad girl” or she can just be herself – it all depends on what mood I’m in at the moment. She can be intimidating and authoritative, but in a “wink, wink” kind of way instead of in a frightening sort of way. Angela is super sexy, but in all fairness there are times when her sexiness feels a bit forced. I’m not judging her too harshly for that because I still think she’s jaw-dropping.

An evening with Angela would be an evening with a cool gal who’s strong, confident, savvy, and unafraid to smash the limits that society places onto her. Her personality does seem somewhat artificial in her videos, but I get the feeling she’s sweet and down-to-earth once the cameras aren’t pointed her way. Regardless, how can you possibly not want the opportunity to suck on her gorgeous clit?

Angela’s genitals are gorgeous. Her clit is, like the rest of her body, meaty. There’s a lot of flesh resting between her legs. Who wouldn’t want to taste her essence and experience all she has to offer?

Speaking of big juicy clits…

Denise Masino and her legendary clit. Need I say more?

Winner: Denise Masino

Very predictable, perhaps. But I don’t care. Denise Masino is my favorite female bodybuilder of all time (sorry Alina!) and I would love nothing more than to spend an entire erotic evening with her.

What more can be said about Denise that I haven’t written about before? Well, not much, but I will say this: Denise Masino is everything you want in a female bodybuilder and more.

Her Puerto Rican ancestry gives her an exotic look that’s completely irresistible. She’s beautiful in ways that appeal to fans and non-fans of FBBs alike. She muscular, confident, self-assured, highly intelligent, clever, conscientious, and sexy as hell. She’s feminine but does not allow herself to be put into a box. She can be coy and devilish but at the same moment maintain her dignity and realism. Unlike Angela, Denise’s sex appeal doesn’t feel false at all. She doesn’t need to “act sexy” because she’s naturally sexy just as she is. That’s a rare quality in any kind of person.

Denise isn’t necessarily the most muscular FBB around or the most naturally beautiful. But she doesn’t need to be any of those things. She may not captivate everyone when she walks into a room, but I can guarantee that if you spend any time talking with her about her life, you’ll want to stop whatever you’re doing, toss your wedding ring into a nearby trash can, and hail the next Uber to her hotel room. That’s the power she has over guys like me.

Of course, we must talk about her clit. Like Angela, Denise is well-endowed and is not afraid to prove it at every chance she gets. For that, I am eternally thankful.

There aren’t too many women who are famous for their clitoris, so Denise is in rare company. The “little penis” protruding out between her legs is legendary within the female muscle fan community (at least with this particular member of the female muscle fan community!) for good reason. It’s thick, meaty, juicy, and seemingly always engorged. And what’s best is that she isn’t shy about showing it off to anyone who’s willing to watch. Many FBBs are self-conscious and ashamed by having a “little penis” because it feeds into the negative stereotypes that female bodybuilders are secretly men or are biologically transitioning away from femininity. Denise doesn’t give a fuck about those stereotypes and proudly displays her big clit without shame. She is far from embarrassed by it. On the contrary, she’s proud of it. As she should be!

What would Denise be like in bed? I’d imagine passionate, confident, and intelligent. In other words, she’d just be herself. And that’s all she needs to be, damn it.

So there you have it. Denise Masino is my Fantasy Female Bodybuilder, but Angela Salvagno and Alina Popa are not far behind. What’s incredible is that if you were to ask me this same question a month from now, my answers might completely change. Perhaps I’d choose Minna Pajulahti as my first choice followed by Lindsay Mulinazzi and Deidre Pagnanelli. Or Lisa Cross, Victoria Dominguez and Monica Martin. Or Shawn Tan, Emery Miller and Annie Rivieccio.

Holy smokes. The possibilities are endless, are they not? But for now, I’m sticking to Alina, Angela and Denise.

I love Alina because of her accomplishments. I love Angela because of her rawness. I love Denise because of her realness. All three women are eye-popping and unforgettable in different ways. They aren’t for all tastes, but they’re definitely my personal cup of tea.

What about you? Who’s your Fantasy Female Bodybuilder? I’d like to know!

A Female Muscle Fan Never Forgets the Moment When He or She Finally “Got It”

A legend of the world of female bodybuilding: Cory Everson.

You never forget your first time.

The first time you ever had sex? Nah, I’m talking about the first time you “got it.”

And by “got it,” I mean the exact moment when you truly understood why muscular women are so unbelievably awesome.

This “ah ha” moment is not just an epiphany, but a wholesale perspective shift of how you view men, women, beauty, sexuality, relationships, biology, and your own hidden desires. Typically known as a “paradigm shift” in academic circles, it’s more than just the moment you realized it was Professor Plum in the Library with the Revolver while playing a lackluster game of Clue with your grandparents. It’s the moment you decided to question every assumption you used to hold about human sexuality and start to ask better and more informed ones.

What exactly do I mean? Let me explain in further detail.

The first time you see a photo or a video clip of a muscular woman is not necessarily the first time you “get it.” I can speak for myself when I say the lightbulb did not turn on instantaneously. It took time. I will admit the first time I remember seeing a picture of a female bodybuilder I was sort of disgusted. It took me aback and forced me to do a double-take. I didn’t say anything out loud, but in my head I knew what I was seeing was both jarring and strangely intriguing.

Did I love the experience or hate the experience? Well, it’s hard to say. Neither, really.

I didn’t realize the exact power and allure of muscular women until much later (adulthood, to be exact), but the seeds were sown. But alas, I still had not experienced my Great Female Muscle Awakening. That happened in college. I’ve summarized my own personal history of female muscle fetishism before, but I’ll briefly recap it again. In short, during my freshman year in college I wanted to avoid the dreaded “Freshman 15” where new college kids who’ve just moved away from home tend to gain upwards to 15 pounds due to poor dieting, excessive drinking, and other shenanigans. Being away from Mom and Dad’s bird nest has consequences, after all.

So, I went out of my way and researched how to best exercise at the gym and avoid gaining extra weight. My school had a modest yet effective fitness center (of course, they completely renovate it the moment after I graduate!) that I would visit a few times a week. I took a weightlifting class in high school two years earlier but figured I should brush up on exercise techniques so I don’t accidentally injure myself.

YouTube and Google Videos were still in their infancy (yes, I’m getting old), but online workout videos did exist nevertheless. Initially, I only watched exercise instructional videos posted by guys. Then, after searching more and more, I started to stumble upon videos posted by women (or videos featuring women). One video in particular struck me.

It’s grainy, embarrassingly pixilated and looks like it was shot with a camcorder from the 1980s. Perhaps it was. But it featured Lisa Marie Bickels, a low-level competitive female bodybuilder, former U.S. Marine, and personal trainer. The video unto itself was not remarkable, well produced, or intended to be well produced. However, it left an indelible impact on me. I had seen photos and a limited number of videos of muscular women before, but this one produced my “ah ha” moment.

No skimpy dress will get in the way of showing off Lisa Marie Bickels' incredible body. — No skimpy dress will get in the way of showing off Lisa Marie Bickels’ incredible body.

In it, Lisa is doing a set of triceps pull-downs at the gym. After finishing, she poses for the camera and flexes her pumped arm. You can clearly see her ripped triceps running down her beautiful arm. I did some further research on Miss Bickels on her website and it then hit me.

She’s beautiful. And powerful. And independent. She’s willing to show off her hard-earned body and I cannot do anything but sit here and stare helplessly.

Whoa. Now I get it.

Lisa was the first FBB I ever saw who was young, undeniably feminine, muscular, and fiercely powerful (both as a person and as an object of beauty). Of course, in the decade that would follow I would view countless more videos of other FBBs doing similar things, but you never forget your first time. Ever.

Like losing your virginity, the first time you ever had sex wasn’t necessarily the best sex you ever had. It was probably awkward. Or painful. You may not have known what you were doing. Maybe you were sweating profusely. Maybe you were drunk, stoned, or nervous as hell. Regardless, it’s still noteworthy because…well, it was your first time. That’s important!

Likewise, Lisa Marie Bickels isn’t necessarily the best or most accomplished female bodybuilder in the world. Nor is she the most famous or best shining example of the beauty of strong women. But she opened my eyes to a whole new world. For that, this hardcore U.S. Marine deserves my respect.

The second part of my “awakening” would happen once I became acquainted with Karen Zaremba. Oh boy, Karen is a thing of beauty! Shortly after discovering Miss Bickels, I inevitably also stumbled upon videos of Karen Zaremba, a 40-something female bodybuilder and mother of two children. Karen is the flip side of the coin to Lisa. Karen is equally gorgeous, feminine, muscular (though not hypermuscular), and enthralling. But she is an older woman. At the time, Lisa looked to be in her mid-20s, which was not far off from where I was as an 18-year-old freshman. But Karen was a game-changer.

How can your perspective not change after discovering Karen Zaremba?

There is, of course, a certain acronym used to describe beautiful women who are also mothers. Out of respect for these wonderful and accomplished women, I refuse to use it. I hope the rest of you do the same. It’s crude, misogynist, and incredibly disrespectful. Don’t use it. Please.

That being said, Karen is without question a gorgeous older woman who instantly cast a spell upon this teenage boy. For the first time, I realized that muscles are the ultimate anti-aging remedy. Normally, middle aged women do not pique the interest of impressionable teenage boys with raging hormones. But Karen did. At the time, I considered her the Most Beautiful Woman I’ve Ever Seen in My Life. Other women would later replace Karen for that title, but a decade ago she was #1.

My discovery of Lisa Marie Bickels and Karen Zaremba set off a firestorm that would result in me starting this blog a few years after graduating from college. I would learn about hundreds of more competitive bodybuilders, fitness models, and “normal” women for whom lifting is more than just a casual hobby. But none of that would have happened without my fateful “awakening” as an 18-year-old kid.

As I mentioned before, that wasn’t the exact moment I first discovered muscular women. There was the cover of Red Sonja (1985) at a video rental store that made me stop dead in my tracks and stare. I’ve never seen this cheesy 1980s action flick starring Brigitte Nielsen and Arnold Schwarzenegger, nor do I ever have the inclination to. But regardless, the cover of the VHS tape caught my attention as a little boy.

Then there was the photo spread of Cory Everson in the 1999 issue of The Guinness Book of World Records. That definitely caught my attention. I reacted to this photo of Miss Everson with a mind-blowing mixture of disgust and arousal. Yes, I will admit that initially I looked upon Cory with repulsion. I’m not proud to admit this, but honesty is the best policy, is it not? However, I cannot deny that a small part of me was captivated by her. I may not have totally liked what I saw, but I could not look away. I spent many hours secretly gazing at this photo in private and wondering all sorts of things about her.

I also grew up watching WWF (now the WWE) and seeing women like Chyna (may she rest in peace), Sable, Jacqueline, Trish Stratus, Debra, and other prance around, beat each other to a pulp, and occasionally show their male counterparts who’s boss. I also grew up watching GoldenEye (1995) on VHS and getting an electric thrill up my spine whenever Famke Janssen’s Xenia Onnatop flashed onto the screen. If episodes of “Xena: Warrior Princess” came on TV, yeah…I’d watch it in the basement without my family finding out!

May I squeeze Charmaine Patterson's bicep? — May I squeeze Charmaine Patterson’s bicep?

So my experience with strong/powerful/muscular women did not start as a college freshman. It began much earlier. But I didn’t “get it” until Miss Bickels and Miss Zaremba entered my life.

So, what exactly did I finally “get?” I have two major observations:

One, I finally saw a superb example of muscularity and traditional femininity working in tandem together like never before.

I didn’t find the photo of Cory Everson arousing, even though I intuitively knew there was something exceptional about it. I did find Famke Janssen and Trish Stratus immensely sexy, but neither of them were very muscular. I knew muscular women existed and I definitely knew beautiful non-muscular women existed, but I never saw the two combined until I encountered Lisa, Karen, and others.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes. It’s not that you’re blind to reality, but rather you just need to see all the elements come together in order for you to believe that it’s possible. As a young teenager I probably knew that a muscular woman could be sexy. I just never thought much about it. It’s not that I doubted this; it just rarely crossed my mind in the first place.

It never occurred to me that a gorgeous woman with muscles can become even more gorgeous. Her muscles can become a complementary asset that accentuates the natural beauty she already has. Her muscles enhance her good looks. I’ve obviously seen beautiful women before. I’ve also seen muscular women before. But it wasn’t until I saw the perfect mixture of the two that my perspective started to change.

Two, I finally realized that muscles can transform a normal-looking woman into an Irresistible Sex Goddess.

I too fell into the trap once upon a time ago that female bodybuilders were sort of freaks of nature who should be admired for their accomplishments but not necessarily seen as objects of desire. Yes, I was also once young and dumb! But I know better now thanks to finally seeing the light.

In addition to realizing that a woman with muscles can be both beautiful and feminine at the same time, I also came to the epiphany that a woman who isn’t considered naturally attractive can transform herself into an epic muscle goddess just by putting on bulk at the gym. I won’t name specific names, but we can probably all think of “homely” women who are hot as hell because their thick legs, bulging biceps, and wide shoulders make them completely irresistible.

Without muscles, these women aren’t much to look at. This sounds like an insult, but it’s not. It’s just a simple observation and a testament to the power of muscularity.

As women who have “earned” their beauty, we applaud them for maximizing who they are as people (not just physically, but also mentally and spiritually) thanks to hard work, sacrifice, and the will to improve day-by-day. Nobody handed them their muscles on a silver platter. They had to expend buckets of sweat for years on end in order to achieve their remarkable physiques.

I now appreciate the beauty of the tall blonde goddess Shawn Tan.

Once you have your “ah ha” moment, you feel silly for not realizing this sooner. You feel foolish for intentionally shutting yourself off from a whole category of human beauty. It’s like a poor person living underneath an ocean of oil or a gold mine. They move to a new city, disgruntled and searching for new economic opportunities. A year or two later, the new property owner randomly stumbles upon a suspicious leak of smelly black fluid seeping from the ground.

And voilà! He or she is now rich and you’re still adjusting to your new surroundings as poor as you were when you left. Shucks!

That’s sort of how I felt when I first discovered my love for muscular women. I felt like I was limiting my scope of the world. I felt like I had a narrow definition of “beauty” that did not include a fraction of what humanity had to offer. But now that my eyes have been opened, I now appreciate women like Annie Rivieccio and Shawn Tan as I did not before. People who do not share my love for these gorgeous ladies are truly missing out!

The reason why you never forget your “first time” is because of how beautiful the experience is of enjoying female bodybuilders. Unlike the virginity comparison, even before you ever start having sex you know that sex is (supposed) to be a pleasurable and amazing experience. But before getting into female bodybuilders, I had no idea about the potential these women had to offer. I could never imagine the world of female muscle could be so incredible and stupefying because it never occurred to me it could be so incredible and stupefying. This is another key aspect of our “awakening.” I knew even as a little boy that sex is a big deal. I had no clue FBBs were also a big deal. See what I mean?

Additionally, not only do you finally “get it,” but you now have the opportunity to indulge in this love over and over again. Those of us who love FBBs and fit women understand what it’s like to enjoy them. The tingling that goes down your spine as you watch a sexy woman deadlift or squat 400 pounds cannot be accurately described. I don’t know if I can do it any justice.

But it doesn’t matter. You know a beautiful experience when you are privileged to participate in one. The Female Bodybuilder High we get is difficult to put into words, but it is indeed a tangible thing. It’s very real, and its power has not diminished in the past 12 or so years of my life.

You never forget the moment you got it. Not because you regret your previous ambivalence toward female bodybuilders, but because you can now celebrate your newfound love for them. Our worlds are now brighter because of this awareness.

Female bodybuilders are beautiful beyond words. The fact we cannot put it into words is telling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s from GFBB! Yes!!!

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

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

Kathy Johansson wearing very sexy red lingerie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was leg day. Yuck.

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

The gorgeous Kathy Connors demonstrating the nerdy/sexy dynamic.

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

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

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

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

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

So, I did. You can read it here.

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

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

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

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

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

Alright. Time to go!

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

What time is it? Hmmmmmm…6:19.

6:20.

6:21.

6:22.

6:23.

6:24.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, if the lady says so…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another deep breath.

Exhale.

Extend hand.

Make a fist.

Knock on the door.

Wait.

The door then opens.

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

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

And there she is.

There she is.

There. She. Is.