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Shiroko's Growth Diary Week 6
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 16:05:49 +0000 UTCNot sure if i'm going from slow start to too fast progress lol
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Appetite surged this week—something shifted internally, like my body's engine revving higher. The standard setup of three main meals plus two or three smaller ones fell short; hunger gnawed constantly, especially in the gap after afternoon training. Post-workout protein shakes, once sufficient, now left my stomach rumbling insistently—dinner hours away, but the demand for fuel immediate, unrelenting. Couldn't ignore it; adapted by mixing in mass gainer powder. The result: thicker shakes, heavier texture, loaded with extra carbs and calories to match the intensity. Chugged them down mid-afternoon, feeling the fullness settle, energy stabilizing for evening sessions.
Training adapted seamlessly: Squats at 140kg for 8, bench 75kg for 10, pull-ups sets of 12, deadlifts 130kg. Muscles responding faster—biceps fuller, shoulders even rounder, back structure more pronounced with visible wings under rows. Abs etched deeper, thighs and glutes denser. Scanner showed +3kg muscle, rate holding strong. Clothes pinching now; tops straining at seams.
Near week's end, after an exhaustive session—sweat-drenched, muscles pumped—I hit the showers to rinse it all away.
Locker room empty, steam lingering. Paused at the mirror for a proper assessment, no rush. The reflection stunned me—hard to reconcile with the me from a month and a half ago. Lean, toned then; now, sculpted mass everywhere, curves amplified. Hands traced instinctively: over the bulging biceps, down the rounded shoulders, across the rising traps and structured back. Skin warmed under touch, breath quickening. The hardness, the growth—it stirred something deep, arousal building unexpectedly. My own body, turning me on? Mind fogged, impulses overriding composure.
Sat on the bench, hand drifting lower, slipping to privates.
Moans escaped, soft at first, echoing in the quiet space as fingers worked rhythmically. Heat intensified, building to a peak—back arching sharply, enhanced bosom bouncing with the jolt, hands gripping the bench hard enough to creak under pressure. Climax hit like a wave, leaving a small pool of fluid on the floor.
Snapped back to reality moments later—public space, exposed. Cleaned hastily, wiping evidence, then sprayed deodorant liberally to mask the mingled scents of sweat and release. Hoped it dispersed before anyone entered. Another quick shower to compose myself, water cooling the flush.
As I exited the stall, Sumire arrived, timing barely safe. She headed in as I toweled off. Caught her glance again—lingering, subtle. Lately, it's more frequent; not just gym floor, but here too. Wonder what's behind it.
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