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My Pecs, Part 1
🕑 Added 2021-11-20 23:00:02 +0000 UTC32 inches
Hi there. My name’s Benton. I just turned 30, and I needed to make a change in my life. I spent my 20s chasing after guys, and it didn’t go well at all. Anytime I met someone attractive (I’m gay, so c’mon, that ends up being a lot of other guys), I would devote way too much time, money, and energy trying to impress them and get them to hook up with me. Sometimes it felt like most of my waking hours and most of my paycheck were spent in pursuit of some action. And though I did end up with my fair share of dates, they all flamed out quickly because I came across as too desperate, and I’d start the process all over again with the next Tom, Dick, or Harry that came along.
So that changes as of today. I’ve decided to not chase but to be chased. I’m just going to be who I want to be and wait until someone finds me worthwhile.
But who do I want to be? That’s a hard question, but I do know I want to get into better shape. I used to work out back in college and had a pretty nice body – 6’1” and 180 lean pounds – but since then I’ve lost the muscle that I had. I was always too busy trying to get guys and didn’t make time for the gym. Now my weight has fallen down to around 140 and I’m all skin and bones. I think my arms may be 12 inches when flexed, my waist is 29 inches, and – worst of all – my chest is a very flat 32 inches. Like, no pecs at all. I’m so weak I cannot even do one pushup. And I’d probably lose a fight to a scarecrow. But hopefully that will change after a few months back in the weight room.
35 inches
Ok, I made some great progress these last few months. First of all, I’m saving a ton of money. Instead of hanging out in bars and buying drinks and appetizers for everyone, I’ve been holed up at Bart’s Gym every night lifting barbells and dumbbells. Not very heavy ones, mind you, but you got to start somewhere. I’ve managed to put on a little muscle and am back up to 160 pounds, which is still WAY too skinny for 6’1” but at least I’m moving in the right direction. I’ve added an inch to my arms, kept my waist the same, and my chest has grown from a 32 to 35. I had actually forgotten how much fun it was to work out – well, not fun, but maybe fulfilling is a better word. Lifting always elevates my mood and I enjoy setting and reaching goals, so I feel like I’m actually accomplishing something. I never felt this same way trudging home after getting dumped by another guy.
But you know what the hardest part about going to the gym is? It’s sticking to my goal of not chasing after other men. There are so many hotties here – even more than the clubs – and they’re always half-dressed and very sweaty. I instantly start fantasizing about getting them home, fucking around, and turning them into my boyfriend. Sometimes I have to go into the restroom stall and whack off a time or two just to relieve the tension.
38 inches
Another three months at the gym, and I’m feeling very good about my decision to start focusing on myself. I’ve put on another 20 pounds and am back up to 180, where I was in college. I think I could actually win that fight against the scarecrow now. My arms are a decent 15 inches, my waist is a relatively tiny 30, and my quads – which I had never measured before today – are definitely bigger at 28 inches. And I know this may seem hard to believe, but even my cock seems a little bigger.
But the thing I have really been impressed with is my chest, which is now 38 inches around – the circumference is very nice, but it’s the weight and shape of my burgeoning pecs that I really love. They now stick out a little from my chest and you can see the muscles pop out when I flex them. I may not be able to compete with Mr. Universe, but they are sure a whole lot beefier than when I started.
And I’m not the only one who has noticed. I’ve seen quite a few guys checking me out when I’m lifting – they try to be subtle about it, but their stares last just a little bit longer than they should. Nobody has approached me outright, and I haven’t said anything back (sticking to my pledge), but it feels good to be ogled a little.
41 inches
Big news! I keep growing larger and am now up to 210 pounds – what a huge change from 140. I’m 50% heavier than when I started lifting! But that’s not even the exciting part – it’s that I’m benching more than my weight for the very first time. My personal best had been stuck around 195, but my bench max exploded in the last few weeks to 245. I love getting under that bar and hoisting all those plates, and it’s amazing how many hot guys will volunteer to spot me. They will come over and say things like “Need a spot, big guy?” and I instantly get hard when I hear it. “Big guy.” They’re talking about me! I’m the big guy. For someone who was so weak and wimpy just a few months earlier, it’s a real trip to be thought of in this way.
But you know what? It’s true. At 6’1” and 210, I’m bigger than many of the other guys who lift at Bart’s Gym. My arms are up to 17 inches and look great when flexed, and my quads are now just under 30 inches. I’ve added a little size to my waist, which is now 32, but it tapers way up to my 41-inch chest. I want to go shirtless in the gym to show it off, but that’s against Bart’s rules, so lately I’ve been wearing tank tops so at least some of it can be seen.
My pecs are truly becoming my favorite body part – I know some guys like to flex their arms, and others really like to show off their abs, but for me it’s most assuredly my pecs. I have a hard time keeping my hands off them – sometimes I don’t even notice when I and rubbing them up and down for long periods. Apparently, I was doing it in an office meeting through my Oxford the other day until one of my co-workers asked me if I had a rash on my chest. Ha!
One person who has really been paying me a lot of attention is Paul. He’s a little guy, maybe around 5’6” and 120 pounds, and he comes in to Bart's to use the treadmill. Mostly I’ve seen him keep to himself, but lately I can tell he’s been eyeing me up and down. Finally, today, he mustered up the courage to talk to me and ask about my growth.
I tried to act all innocent and asked, “You noticed?” He smiled and told me that it was impossible not to notice, and then asked me what supplements I was taking. I told him just regular stuff like protein powder because the really good stuff was still out of my price range, so he offered to get me whatever I wanted to help me get even bigger. I smiled, bounced my pecs, and thanked him for his generosity. We agreed to meet back at my place after working out so I could give him the list of what I wanted, and he could give me head.
47 inches
Today I strutted into the gym – yes, strutted. It’s hard not to when you’re feeling so cocky. The stuff that Paul bought me worked better than I could have imagined. My weight has shot up the past few months, soaring to 250 pounds of pure muscle. Long gone is the skinny mofo who was so desperately chasing guys, and in his place is a confident stud who has max bench of 320 pounds and can crank out 100 pushups without stopping. Nobody has to refer to me as "big guy" anymore because everyone knows my name. Now everyone calls me Big Ben.
I’ve gotten my arms up to 19 perfectly-sculpted inches, my quads are at 31, waist is 33, and my chest – with my thick, swollen pecs – stretches the tape at 47 inches. I’d been hoping to put three inches on my chest in this same time, but with a little pharmacological help, I beefed it up by 6 inches. Yes, some of it due to my ever-widening lats, but a good deal of that new circumference is from the growth of my pecs. They’re just insane these days – huge and hard and sticking about 4 inches off my rib cage. Like two big cantaloupes glued onto my torso under my chin.
As I walked into the gym wearing a very tight white polo shirt, my pecs were definitely the star of the show. Bouncing up and down like giant boulders on a trampoline, with two very pert nipples dancing under the sheer fabric, I am 100% sure many of the other lifters were green with envy. I slowly walked into the locker room to get ready, and Paul was already there. It had been a few weeks since we’d seen each other – our workout times didn’t always sync up – and his eyes grew wide at the progress I’d made in that short period. He managed to stammer out a “Wow” and a “I can’t believe it,” which made me smile. I took off my shirt to really show him what I had achieved, and soon I could see the erection growing in his tiny shorts.
“You wanna feel this fuckin’ power, Paul?” I asked him. “You wanna touch my massive muscle tits?”
Paul nodded vigorously, so I walked over, lifted him up to eye level, and let him begin to caress my pecs. The guy might have been small, but he knew his way around a muscleguy’s body. Something about his little hands on my big chest just felt so right, and before I knew it his tongue was giving my nipples a good licking. My whole chest started to tingle from the attention, so I let him do whatever he wanted, and eventually, my cock got also hard so we decided to finish off in the shower.
