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Thick, Thicker, Thickest (Parts 1 - 5)


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10 hours ago, londonboy said:

Thick, Thicker, Thickest.jpg


“You did that on purpose.”

“Did what.”

“You intentionally bumped into those two guys and sent them flying to the floor.”

“What?  Why would I do that?”

“Because you saw them messing with me over at the dumbbells rack.  You wanted to get back at them for giving me grief.”

He smiled.  The grin did not make him less intimidating.  He still looked like a freaking mass of muscle . . . but with a smile.  Dirk was massive.  There was just no other word to describe him.  His traps were a lot bigger than my entire shoulders.  His delts looked like bowling balls had grown under his skin.  His pecs ballooned out like two mammoth blimps flying side by side.  And the dude’s biceps looked like two whole giant beef shanks hanging in the butcher shop.  His balding head matched all the humongous shiny bulges everywhere else on his body.  And the trimmed reddish-brown full beard and mustache gave him a dangerous Viking look.  But it was his massive muscles – freakishly swollen by intense lifting – that a person always noticed first . . . whether he was fully clothed or jut wearing shorts rolled up his giant thighs, like now.  

“Did you see how they bounced off me like they’d been hit by a Mack truck.”

“They were hit by something much more powerful than a Mack truck, dude.”

Dirk’s grin got bigger.  It pleased him when I talked about his body, his size, or his muscles.  If I continued to talk about him – more than just a passing comment – he’d start getting excited and the bulge at his crotch would grow massive, too.  Dirk was a size queen when it came to his own body.  Bigger was definitely better.  He loved talking about his muscles . . . but he loved it even more when someone else talked about them.  And don’t get me started about the indecent boners that would sprout up any time someone asked to feel his arms or his chest.  The dude was a walking carnival act – screaming for attention.  We’d been late for so many restaurant reservations because he’d have to be a muscle goodwill ambassador doling out flexes and offering groping sessions on the street.  I started telling him our dinner time was forty-five minutes earlier than it really was, just to accommodate him making someone’s night by posing at a stoplight.  Walking in town with him was like walking with the Hulk.  Even though he wasn’t green, people stared as if he were.  Who could blame them, though . . . like I said, the guy was freaking massive.

“No one messes with you . . . ever.  That’s just the way it is.  They should be happy that I didn’t get really mad.  I think their heads are still spinning from smacking into me, though, and that makes me happy.  They sure skedaddled out of the gym quickly after being introduced to my non-moving mass.”

Dirk was now looking at himself in the large mirror along the opposite wall of the locker room.  I could tell he was getting himself a little juiced from staring at his own body.  He tensed his rock-hard stomach and mounds of abs muscles burst through his skin.  He then shook out his quads and flexed them afterwards, causing a convoluted roadmap of veins to instantly appear.  It looked like highways traveling over mountains and through valleys. The orange-sized head of his dick started pushing against his black shorts and I instantly knew that big Dirk was horny.  This typically happened after a workout, but the definitely one-sided altercation with the two bullies had made his pump even more orgasmic than usual.  

“I need to be thicker.”

“What?  Are you crazy, man?”

“I want to be thicker . . . much thicker.”

“Most double-wide trailers are thinner than you, Dirk!”

It was clearly an exaggeration, but my comment made him smile, again.  Dirk’s chest was about fifty-eight inches thick.  He was the thickest man I knew.  He had just sent two big grown man flying to their butts because of his dense body – but it wasn’t enough.  Dirk knew of bodybuilders who had chests that measured over sixty inches.  He wanted to be thicker than that.  But he didn’t just want a thick chest.  He wanted every part of his body to be intensely thick.  He wanted to be a tank of a man – unstoppable and immovable.  It’s what he talked about all the time.  

“Thicker is better.  The thickest would be best.”

I imagined his chest ballooning out even more. I envisioned arms that were so swollen they dangled at a forty-five degree angle – biceps too huge to let his limbs rest by his side.  I thought about a neck as thick as an oak tree.  I longed for a stomach with abs so enlarged they were like speedbumps made from asphalt.  I wondered about legs so thick they could be columns holding up a balcony in a palace.  I dreamed of Dirk so massive the ground shook when he walked.  Speeding cars would be totaled if they hit him and he wouldn’t even have a scratch.  I contemplated sharing these ideas with Dirk, but the intense activity already happening at his crotch told me it wasn’t a good idea.  His long thick dong had flopped out of his shorts before, just because he got too excited.  

“Dude, if you become any thicker I don’t think you’ll be able to move.  I have to help you with your shirts, as it is.”

“I’m as flexible as shit, man, and you know it.”

To prove his point, Dirk bent over and put his head between his wide-as-shit calves.  His upper back exploded wide with mounds of muscles popping out everywhere.  I was bummed that I couldn’t see his round, firm, bubble butt from where I stood.  It was truly amazing that this hulk of a man was able to bend like that.  He flexed his arms while he was upside down and I saw how massive his triceps had become.  He swung his body back up with ease and grinned at me.  His arms were still flexed and the peaks of the biceps competed with his bald head for being the highest thing around.  

“I just have trouble with my shirts because I like them tight as hell, hugging all my massive muscles.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

“Gut punches.  Now.”

“Come on, dude, can’t we give my poor fingers a break for a change?”

“Nope.  I pretend they’re bullets and I’m not feeling a thing.”

It was a post workout routine.  No matter what.  I always complained, but we both knew I loved it as much as he did.  Hitting his abs felt like hitting rounded bricks.  They weren’t just hard – they were solid, like the way a building is solid.  I had a feeling Dirk wouldn’t have felt an aluminum bat slamming into his stomach, but we hadn’t advanced to that level, yet.  I stepped in front of him and sent both of my fists slamming into his stomach with a loud smack.  I knew Dirk got off on the double gut punch.  It was the loud whack sound of my knuckles hitting his tight, unyielding muscled abs that got him excited the most.  It would take a few minutes for the stinging pain to leave my fingers and wrists, but we both loved watching his chiseled tummy repelling my hardest punches.  I pulled my hands back and moved my fingers around like I was playing an ‘air’ piano – trying to flick out the pain.  

“I’ve got a concrete wall of a stomach, man,” Dirk said, looking down at the red marks left by my fists.  “And it’s only going to get thicker and harder.”

“Well, my punching days are almost over, then, big man,” I said in reply.  “I’m not breaking fingers just to give you a little rush”

Dirk barely heard anything I was saying.  He was too busy looking at himself in the mirror and running his left hand up and down his rock had stomach.  He smacked his palm against his abs and a loud wallop echoed throughout the locker room.  I saw a red outline of his fingers left on his stomach and I knew the slap had been intense.  It was perfectly clear that my punches weren’t felt, at all, and he needed his own powerful hands to make his abs respond in any way.  There was a guy about seven lockers away who clearly got a little scared of the hulking muscleman beating his own abs, for he gathered his bag and clothes and went around the corner to find another place to change.  

“You’re scaring the other patrons,” I said, chuckling to myself.

“Good,” responded Dirk, as he tensed his eye-popping, massive pecs.  

His mammoth chest was gorgeous.  Two rounded concrete pillows of muscles.  When he showered, water dripped off of his nipples hitting the floor below, since the nubs pointed straight down because of the hefty massiveness of his pecs.  There wasn’t a shirt in the world that could hide those huge puppies.  Dirk usually left three or four buttons undone – to show off his enormous man-tits, but mainly because he couldn’t have clasped them shut even if he wanted to.  Dirk believed a man’s chest was a key indicator of his power.  He thought pecs should make it instantly clear how strong a dude was.  He always said if the person you’re talking to doesn’t move their gaze down to your chest within the first fifteen seconds, then you weren’t big enough.  People talking to Dirk didn’t waste three seconds before their eyes traveled down to his massive mounds of muscle.  Hell, some people actually never looked him in the face – their stare stayed glued to his pecs.  I found myself having to adjust my crotch any time he decided to bounce his pecs for his own or someone else’s enjoyment.  

“Gonna put another inch on this chest in the coming month, dude.”

It was a statement of fact.  It was Dirk telling his body an order.  It was the kind of self-inspiration that had turned the guy into the hulk that he was.  Like a true alpha, he told his muscles what to do.  The words ‘try,’ ‘hope,’ or ‘might’ were never used by Dirk.  If he ever began to strain on a lift of some kind . . . like when he was curling a dumbbell . . . he’d look down at his biceps and bark out an order.  He’d say something like ‘Come on you fucking puny arm – be a big man and lift.’  And every time, whatever body part he was ordering around would listen and respond immediately.  He was a general and his muscles were the platoon he commanded.  And his army of bulges never disobeyed an order.  Lifting heavy weights definitely made Dirk big, but I believed it was more about how he intimidated his own muscles into growth.  I’d seen him growl at his own biceps before and I swear the thing expanded a little simply out of fear.  He did the same thing when he was coaching me through a set.  He’d boss my much smaller muscles around like they were minions doing his bidding.  I had definitely grown, so it clearly worked.  Dirk was obviously now working himself into a little lust-filled moment – staring at his own body always really turned him on.  

“Jacked today, bro.  Feeling it more than usual.  Taking care of bullies without even raising an arm gets me so stoked.  They felt like tiny insects bouncing off of me.  Loved watching how my hard pecs didn’t give at all when they smashed into them.  Fucking A, I’m loving how swole I feel.”

I knew better than to interrupt his self-adoration.  When Dirk got to talking about his own muscles, there was very little that could change his focus.  He just needed a few minutes to get a ‘muscle high’ from staring at his own body.  Who could blame him?  I did, however, know I was supposed to stop him if he started to get indecent – with what he was saying or in regards to how big he let himself get below the belt.  It was always important to stop him before there was any kind of wardrobe malfunction and he ended up sprouting major wood way beyond the waistband of his pants or out through the legs.  Also, Dirk had a tendency to squirt more thick pre than most guys did when they had a full blown orgasm.  He was just a walking cum machine – definitely due to the size of his muscles.  I, of course, got off on listening to Dirk talk about his own body.  It was one of the hottest things I had ever heard or seen.  He simply lusted after his own hugeness more than anything else.  And, for me, that was like the best foreplay, ever!  I had to force myself to encourage him to stop when he was getting close to losing control.  It was like when he flexed to intimidate some guy – he lost all ability to maintain his composure.  He’d growl loudly, and throw his body into mind-blowing pose after pose – scaring dudes until they pissed themselves or emptied a big load into their undies.  I, myself, had come close to losing control many times when he was Hulking out in front of someone – and I wasn’t even gay, just really into muscle.  

“I’m going to be the thickest freak to ever walk the planet, man.  I’m going to be scarier than a charging elephant.  I’m going to be like a bulldozer plowing through a flimsy, little wall.  I’m going to be a tsunami of muscle blasting up against a coast.  I’m going to be massive.”

He tensed every possible muscle in his body one by one as he spoke.  It was like watching a multi-ringed muscle circus with several acts performing at one time.  My gaze had to dart around to try and catch the full show.  However, I also quickly noticed the show at his crotch was growing bigger and bigger by the second.  Dirk was loving his own words and his own posing even more than me.  I knew the circus was going to turn very pornographic if I didn’t quickly figure out how to stop him.  I knew the perfect way to change Dirk’s focus.

“Dude, your traps are looking a little small, today.  Don’t you think?”

The tensing of muscles stopped.  The discourse about his own body and what it felt like ceased immediately.  The big man’s gaze zoomed instantly on his trapezius muscles – flexing only them.  The things were humongous – much bigger and thicker than my entire shoulders – but desperate times called for desperate measures.  I needed to stop him before he turned the locker room into a bathhouse – full of nudity and the smell of semen.  Dirk’s neck, traps, and delts ballooned into something that looked like they had been morphed.  He had traps for days and they were more powerful looking and bigger than any I had ever seen, but the guy couldn’t stand the thought of part of him looking small or weak.  It was his greatest fear.  It was his constant worry.  I had succeeded in pulling him away from the intense explosion his self-worship was heading for.  After he looked at his own gigantic traps for a few seconds, he turned his eyes on me and a knowing smile crept across his face.  

“Thanks, buddy.  I was losing control, again, wasn’t I?”

“Just a little, Dirk.  I needed to figure out a way to bring you back to the moment.  Your traps are looking more powerful than ever, dude.  Not to worry.”

“I just get so lost in my own muscle, dude.  It’s like I go into another world when I watch myself flexing.”

“Who can blame you?  If I had a body like that, I’d be flexing it non-stop.”

“You have a fine body, bud.”

“Thanks, but it’s like comparing titanium to cheap plastic when you’re standing beside me, big guy.”

“Oh fuck, I feel as tough as titanium . . . that’s for sure.”

“Watch it, there, tiger.  You’re going to go down that muscle rabbit hole, again.  Stay focused on the here and now.  Let’s not get thrown out of another gym for indecent behavior . . . although I think they’d be scared to try and throw someone as big as you out.”

“I can’t help it man.  I just get lost in picturing what I’m going to become.  I mean, I know I’m big, now, but I’m going to keep growing . . . keep getting thicker, heavier, dense as fuck.  I want to be able to walk through walls and not even notice.  I want to be too heavy for normal furniture.  I want to sound like boulders rubbing together when I flex.  I just got to get thicker . . . much thicker.”

“How many pounds have you added in the last three months, Dirk?”

“I don’t know . . . I guess about twenty.”

“And all of that was hard muscle, dude.  Freaking hard muscle.  Imagine what you’re going to look like after a year.”

“Aw fuck man, I’m imagining it and it’s hot as hell.  I’m just going to have to stop buying clothes because I’m going to grow out of them every two or three months.  I’m a freaking muscle growing machine, dude . . . and I just can’t stop.  Speaking of parts of me growing . . . when are you going to let me tap that fucking hot ass of yours, man.”

“Dude, you know I’m not into guys.’

“Well, you certainly seem like you’re into me.”

“That’s because of all the huge muscles, man.  I’m definitely into muscle.  Who wouldn’t be into a thick, massive body like yours?”

We both looked down at his chest, arms, and abs – like we needed proof of his hugeness or something. We were both lost in intense muscle admiration for a few seconds.  It was almost like we were seeing the huge bulges for the first time.  He wasn’t even flexing, but every part of his body was bulging hard.  Just standing there he looked jacked beyond belief.  I could tell he was on the verge of getting lost in his gorgeous body again.  I wondered if I needed to head him off before he went down that path.  To my surprise, he brought himself back.  It seemed he had something else on his mind.  

“I could pound you so good, man.  These muscles make me a fucking pounding machine – guaranteed to satisfy.  I could just take you and have my way with you, you know.  How would you stop me.  Picking you up and turning your body any which way I wanted to – that would be hot.  You’d definitely feel all my thickness as I plugged you, dude.”

“Sorry, man.  I’m into muscle and not dick.  I’m along for the ride for making you grow bigger because it’s going to be awesome seeing just how huge you get.  I’ll be your coach and your biggest cheerleader, but I don’t want to be your boy toy.  Besides, you go through boys like you go through toothpaste – you squeeze all the freaking juice you can out of them and then discard them like trash.  I like my bedmates to be soft and round – not bulging out of this world and hard as concrete.”

“I could show you something definitely harder than concrete, buddy.  Once you go jacked you never go back.  Forget the ladies, man, I can take you to muscle heaven.”

The fire hydrant in his shorts was quickly moving to full mast.  This was a typical conversation after one of his intense workouts.  He always got super horny and talked about his lust for me.  As hot as his body was and as hot as it sounded when he talked about how much he wanted me, I was just not into guys – even monstrous guys.  I just adored his huge muscles and watching him grow.  I was also a little scared of what his giant body, not to mention his giant tool, would do to me in bed.  He probably weighed more than an SUV loaded down with concrete and I got the feeling his thrusting power would be like a wrecking ball coming through the side of a building.  He was now staring at me like he was a giant lion and I was a little gazelle he’d cornered and there was no escape.  The lust in his eyes was definitely flattering, but the way he balled up his fist and tensed his arms was a little nerve-wracking – like it was taking every ounce of his incredible strength to keep from pouncing on me.  

“Um . . . Dirk . . . it’s me . . . remember?  The one you just recently promised to protect . . . to make sure no one messes with me.”

“Oh sorry, dude, I was just lost in my thoughts about smashing that body of yours against the wall as I lifted you off the ground with my thick, massive, hard-as-hell cock.  I’d love to dump my cream filling into that hot little body of yours.  My big battering rod would thrust into you like a girder supporting an entire skyscraper.  Feeling you bob up and down as I flexed my huge dong supporting all of your weight.  Oh man, plowing you so hard and hearing you moaning for me to slam you harder, deeper – with my muscles flattening you as I bang with all the power I can.  Fuck, I want you so much, buddy.”

“Dirk, man!  Snap out of it.  There’s no way I’m letting you get that third leg of yours anywhere near my ass.  Dude!  Calm the fuck down.  Go take a cold shower or something.  You’re scaring me.  Remember, you get this way post workout!”

I saw reality seep back into his eyes.  He kept his fists clenched and his muscles tensed, but I could tell he was coming down off of his testosterone high . . . his adrenaline rush . . . induced by lifting heavy weights.  It reminded me of when the Hulk would change back into Bruce Banner, but Dirk didn’t get smaller when he calmed down – he stayed jacked beyond belief.  Finally, bulges relaxed and he released his fingers – looking a little less scary than he had before.  The fire hydrant stayed fully engorged, however, so I knew he wasn’t completely back to earth.  He could still be sent back into orgasmic ecstasy by nothing more than a soft breeze or a casual compliment on how thick he was looking.  

“Damn, bud.  Forgive me.  I just need sex . . . all the time . . . but especially after a good workout.  My best cardio is fucking pretty, young, super tight things.  I love to flex while I’m plowing, so I can watch my muscles grow.  You sure you don’t want to take a walk on the wild side with a fucking huge, thick gorilla, man?”

“I’m sure, Dirk.  I’m flattered that you fancy me . . . but I’m not interested in being flattened like a pancake by your massive body.  I like being the dominant one in my relationships and your alpha-ness is off the charts.  I wouldn’t stand a chance in any kind of competition against you.   Your pecs, alone, have more muscle than my entire body.  And you like to curl the amount of weight I’m benching.  I think I’ll stick to smaller bodies of the female persuasion, if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself, dude, but you have no idea what you’re missing out on.  I could carry you around all day as you rode my big thick tool.  Just thinking about it makes me feel thicker . . . heavier . . . like the room should shake when I walk.  Aw, dude, I’m going to go crazy if I don’t plow something, soon.”

“How about that new guy you have the hots for . . . you know the one you met the other night.”

“Oh hell yeah . . . that fitness model.  The one we listened to as he talked about how huge he was and acted all cocky with that group of admirers.  Then, I walked up behind him and the looks on the faces of his entourage told the dude something freaky was standing behind him . . . that, and the fact that I blocked out so much light.  That tight-as-hell tank didn’t hide a thing, did it?  When he turned around, you could have pushed him over with a feather – that’s how astounded he was.  He was frozen, like a statue . . . in total shock.  Oh fuck, just thinking about how he thought he was so freaking huge until he got a gander at true massiveness.  If he had been a puppy, he would have had his tail between his legs – all scared of this alpha.  Speaking of tails, that guy has one of the hottest asses I’ve ever seen.  Firm, protruding, gorgeous ass cheeks that were made for plowing.  He’s exactly what the doctor ordered for my afternoon.  I think it’s time that little fitness model found out what a true massive alpha is really like.  That was a good idea, buddy.  Let’s text him right now to see what he’s up to.  I have a feeling he’ll cancel any plans the moment I invite him to drop by.  Boy howdy, big Dirk is going to get some tight ass!”

I knew, right away, that I had narrowly avoided being slammed between the mattress and Dirk’s big body, yet again.  It was always touch and go for a few minutes after every workout.  I never knew if I was going to be forced into something I really didn’t want to do – but I knew there’d be no way to stop Dirk.  He was just too massive.  The dude’s huge fingers were having trouble punching the text into his phone.  He often had me do it for him.  Mainly because he’d crushed a few expensive smart phones in frustration.  This was a long text, which made me think Dirk was being a little subtle – for a change.  Usually, when he was needing sex, he’d message a guy saying, “My cock needs to plow you.  8pm, my house” or “Your ass stuffed with my big rod.  Now.”  The big guy was always short and to the point and he was never turned down.  I was beginning to think I was the only dude that had actually told him no.  This text, however, was longer and he was kind of mumbling what he was typing.

“Hey handsome.  Thought you might like to see me in just my posers.  Just finished a three hour workout.  I could flex all my humongous bulges for you.  You could grope for a little foreplay.  I’ve also got enough bottles of wine to get us to the point where we don’t care what happens next.  Available?”

“You’re such a fucking romantic, Dirk.”

“Hey, don’t tease me.  I promised wine, didn’t I?”

The phone made a noise.  The fitness model was already responding – as if he had been sitting there waiting for Dirk’s text.  The big man’s face lit up and his arms tensed a little as he read the response.  I could tell the model was saying yes, because Dirk’s shorts bounced joyously at the crotch.  He clearly wanted to share the response.

“Available and my toothbrush is already packed.  Send address details.  I could come now.”

“Well, it’s clear Dirk-man is getting some handsome ass, tonight.  I’m happy for you big man.”

“It doesn’t really matter if they’re good looking, bud, since their face will be plastered into the pillow the entire time.  It does matter, however, if they are tight as fuck and able to take my intense pounding.  This guy was built – I think he’ll be able to take me being a little rough.”

“A little rough to you, man, is like a bulldozer plowing through and flattening a little wooden shack.  Just don’t break him.”

“Ha!  I’ll try not to.  You sure you don’t want to come over and join us.  I could use you as back up for when he’s too tired for another round.  Trust me, I could get you used to the gay life, dude.  I could make you never look at another woman.  Come on, let me pop your cherry.”

His mega-hard, bulging pecs had pushed me against the row of lockers behind me.  The even harder head of his raging hard-on was pressing into my lower stomach, like the barrel of some rocket launcher.  He placed his hands on the lockers beside my head, so I was completely surrounded by vein-covered muscles – bulging with power.  For a split second, I let the musky stench of him envelop me – along with the intense heat he was radiating.  My mind drifted to what it must be like to be held by his humongous arms and squeezed by all his strength.  I quickly shook my head and snapped out of my muscle trance.  Lately, this had been happening a lot – me contemplating Dirk having his way with me.  I could tell that Dirk sensed my temporary thoughts – like how a big animal can sense fear in its prey.  I placed my hands on his chest and pushed.  He didn’t budge, but he did chuckle at my feeble attempt.  He leaned in closer, his chest smashing into my body even harder.  He brought his mouth to the side of my head.  

“You’re waiting until I’m even thicker aren’t you, bud?  You want me to be at my thickest when you finally give into me.  You want it to feel like a mountain has been placed on top of you when we share a bed, don’t you?  I’m going to be massive . . . heavy as shit . . . and strong as fuck.  You saying ‘no’ to me makes me grow, man.  I could have my way with every man in the world, dude, but it wouldn’t matter.  All of this hugeness is because of you.  Don’t worry, I can wait.  Waiting just fuels me on to pack on more dense muscle.  Colossal Dirk will one day show you what you’ve been missing.  But it will only be when you’re ready.  In the meantime, I’ll just keep getting thicker.  And no matter how many hot, stacked fitness models I pound, dude . . . know that none of them makes my muscles bulge the way you do.  None of them makes my massive cock as hard as you do.  None of them makes me want to be thicker . . . the way that you do.  See you tomorrow, bud.”

It was like the back end of a bus, which was pinning me to a wall, finally pulled away - as he stepped back.  He was somehow jacked even more than he had been just seconds ago.  Clearly, chatting that way to me made him tense even bigger.  His excitement permeated every inch of the room.  It was infectious, too.  I wanted him.  I wanted to feel his heavy, strong body pressing into me.  I wanted to feel his cock poking into me like a spear.  I wanted to feel his breath on my neck as he bent his head down to talk into my ear.  It was insane.  No other guy interested me, at all.  I was into women and had been all my life.  But the size of Dirk, the density of Dirk, the cockiness of Dirk, the power of Dirk – that was different.  He was getting thicker every day.  He was growing.  He was becoming a freaky massive muscle monster and I knew – one day – I would finally offer myself to him.  It would be an act of complete adoration to this muscle god.  I watched as he grabbed his gym back and waddled away – not even stopping to put on a shirt and not even caring that his huge fire hydrant of a cock was making his shorts pop out like a circus big tent.  I finally took a deep breath and counted to ten – begging myself to not explode.        

Incredibly hot 🔥🔥

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Always loved that pic and the story you made inspired by it does it all sorts of justice. Of course, it's funny that the actual bodybuilder is actually a short guy, 5'4" I think? I like a short man, though!

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  • londonboy changed the title to Thick, Thicker, Thickest (Parts 1 - 5)

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