Check my pics to see what kinda build I'm working with if you can.. it helps the imagery of this, a true story.
I was at a resort casino gym. One of the nicer ones in Atlantic city. It was only me and about 5 others.. it was midday this past summer and most people (i assume) were there to party and gamble, and not to work out. Personally, I gotta stay committed to the gymlife (and as a side note I'm addicted to the pump)...great machines, smooth resistance. A couple sets in and i notice the gym is eerily quiet, no more clanking of weights or feet running on the treadmill. Checking my form in the mirror, I notice the gym has completely quit working out and set up perches to watch me work. It was too "fishbowl" for me and I had to excuse myself from the little corner I made for myself... I made my way towards water cooler near the door and the oldest of the men, (small but fit 50's, massive calves that didn't fit his body and shorts that were way too short) hustles towards me... hand extended. I have to assume he thought he was going to miss his chance to "say hi". "Wow, LOOK at you" he says (thick Philly accent)... "hard work and consistency" I reply, as it's often a sufficient conversation closer.
"Man, i'd looove to arm wrestle you", he goons. I go for a proper handshake and smile pleasantly, his handshake tightens and he switches hand positions so that we are in an arm wrestling position of sorts, his other hand is suddenly casually gripping my tricep. He maintains eye contact, smiling all the while groping and admiring a total stranger. I pull away politely, I wasn't trying to arm wrestle this old man. A hand touches the small of my back. "Have we made friends Gary?", she asked the man. He looked like a "Gary" I thought to myself. Out from behind comes what you'd imagine your stereotypical New Jersey middle aged housewife. She was about 5'6", tiny waisted, heavy bottomed, heavy chested brunette who immediately locked her piercing blue eyes on me the second I walked in. Hard not to notice her juicy glutes revolving as I passed her on the elliptical. That was about 30 minutes ago and now she was right here and very hands on.
These people are extremely touchy I thought to myself as she came into full view, her hand was now tracing the main vein down my bicep. "He's a big as a horse babe" he exclaimed, to her "I'd love to arm wrestle a guy his size..Waddaya think babe?" he repeated his sentiment. I'm sure this isn't the first time she's heard this from him. "Oh, i dunno Gary, your leg is the size of his arm". They talked through me as if i wasn't there but their eyes never stopped scouring my sculpted sweaty body. [Oh no,they said one of my trigger words. Did someone just call me "a horse"? ::twitch::] "Flex for me" she commanded excitedly, she bounced up and down on her toes in anticipation. Her excitement was loosening me up. She was beautiful, lively and her full sports bra was exposed just enough through her half zipped sweatsuit jacket. I couldn't help but notice the crucifix getting lost in her stacked tanned cleavage.
When people ask you to flex, they typically want you to do a bicep pose, I decided to hit them instead with a "most muscular" pose..(google it)...I was wearing a white sleeveless compression T that definitely stretches to accommodate me at most swollen. It barely covers my chest when i get a good pump and you can see my abs clearly with every breath. Above the knee fitting euro type shorts if you were wondering, the kinda shorts I can't wear on leg day if you get my drift.... My traps are my best feature. I just did shoulders so the most muscular seemed like the right thing to do. I felt good. I felt powerful. She felt it. I had an audience, everyone in the gym was watching, waiting...I had turned my focus to her alone, Gary was still but a few feet away but easily faded into the background behind her eager energy. I was going to give her a show. I had control now, this was my element.
I was at a resort casino gym. One of the nicer ones in Atlantic city. It was only me and about 5 others.. it was midday this past summer and most people (i assume) were there to party and gamble, and not to work out. Personally, I gotta stay committed to the gymlife (and as a side note I'm addicted to the pump)...great machines, smooth resistance. A couple sets in and i notice the gym is eerily quiet, no more clanking of weights or feet running on the treadmill. Checking my form in the mirror, I notice the gym has completely quit working out and set up perches to watch me work. It was too "fishbowl" for me and I had to excuse myself from the little corner I made for myself... I made my way towards water cooler near the door and the oldest of the men, (small but fit 50's, massive calves that didn't fit his body and shorts that were way too short) hustles towards me... hand extended. I have to assume he thought he was going to miss his chance to "say hi". "Wow, LOOK at you" he says (thick Philly accent)... "hard work and consistency" I reply, as it's often a sufficient conversation closer.
"Man, i'd looove to arm wrestle you", he goons. I go for a proper handshake and smile pleasantly, his handshake tightens and he switches hand positions so that we are in an arm wrestling position of sorts, his other hand is suddenly casually gripping my tricep. He maintains eye contact, smiling all the while groping and admiring a total stranger. I pull away politely, I wasn't trying to arm wrestle this old man. A hand touches the small of my back. "Have we made friends Gary?", she asked the man. He looked like a "Gary" I thought to myself. Out from behind comes what you'd imagine your stereotypical New Jersey middle aged housewife. She was about 5'6", tiny waisted, heavy bottomed, heavy chested brunette who immediately locked her piercing blue eyes on me the second I walked in. Hard not to notice her juicy glutes revolving as I passed her on the elliptical. That was about 30 minutes ago and now she was right here and very hands on.
These people are extremely touchy I thought to myself as she came into full view, her hand was now tracing the main vein down my bicep. "He's a big as a horse babe" he exclaimed, to her "I'd love to arm wrestle a guy his size..Waddaya think babe?" he repeated his sentiment. I'm sure this isn't the first time she's heard this from him. "Oh, i dunno Gary, your leg is the size of his arm". They talked through me as if i wasn't there but their eyes never stopped scouring my sculpted sweaty body. [Oh no,they said one of my trigger words. Did someone just call me "a horse"? ::twitch::] "Flex for me" she commanded excitedly, she bounced up and down on her toes in anticipation. Her excitement was loosening me up. She was beautiful, lively and her full sports bra was exposed just enough through her half zipped sweatsuit jacket. I couldn't help but notice the crucifix getting lost in her stacked tanned cleavage.
When people ask you to flex, they typically want you to do a bicep pose, I decided to hit them instead with a "most muscular" pose..(google it)...I was wearing a white sleeveless compression T that definitely stretches to accommodate me at most swollen. It barely covers my chest when i get a good pump and you can see my abs clearly with every breath. Above the knee fitting euro type shorts if you were wondering, the kinda shorts I can't wear on leg day if you get my drift.... My traps are my best feature. I just did shoulders so the most muscular seemed like the right thing to do. I felt good. I felt powerful. She felt it. I had an audience, everyone in the gym was watching, waiting...I had turned my focus to her alone, Gary was still but a few feet away but easily faded into the background behind her eager energy. I was going to give her a show. I had control now, this was my element.