Greek Diner Muscle. Updated 3-13

[NickMuscleFan]

Dino and I pulled into the parking lot of the gym in his black Camaro. Of course he drove a muscle car. The inside of it smelled like muscle, too, the heavy musk filling the interior like a masculine Greek cologne. Dino kept some clothes at the diner, and he had put on a thread-worn tee shirt that was so tight on him that I could see the ridges of his abs through it. He said it made him look like ten pounds of shit packed into a five pound sack. Then he laughed at his own joke. When he grabbed the steering wheel, his arms pushed the sleeves of the tee halfway up his delts.

Our gym was open 24 hours. That was part of its draw. After midnight, the evening shift cops and firemen would come, mixing in with bouncers and bartenders from the local clubs. It wasn’t crowded tonight, but there were several groups of muscleheads lifting together, and a few guys training solo.

Dino and I decided to train solo, too. Especially after he said he was feeling like lifting extra heavy. I watched him as he headed back to the bench press area. He was the real deal. A hardcore powerhouse, obsessed with getting bigger and stronger. I noticed other guys looking at him too, and heard one of them say to his buddy, “What do you think he’s using, tren?”

“Oh yeh. Probably hgh and peptides too. You can’t grow that much without it.”

Jealous much, I thought, as I started my workout. After about 45 minutes, I was pretty much done. I wasn’t used to working out at two in the morning. I went back and found Dino doing bench presses. After he slammed the bar on the rack and sat up, I said to him, “How much is that?”

“850,” he said. “Put two more 25s on the bar. That’ll make it an even 900.” I loaded his bar with the 25s, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his chest. It looked like he had gotten chest implants while I was gone, only it was all muscle. His thin tee was rendered see-through by his sweat. He got back on then bench and did 8 slow, controlled reps. When he was done, he sat up and said, “Ok, time for dips.”

Just then, a group of guys passed by us. One guy, tall and built but definitely not in Dino’s class in terms of mass, said, “You short guys are lucky,” he said sarcastically. “It’s easy for you swell up like a blimp.”

“Nah,” said Dino, wiping his face off with the bottom of his shirt, exposing his tanked up torso. “You tall lanky guys are lucky. It’s easier for you to run away from a guy my size.”

The guy’s friends laughed, but the tall guy’s face darkened. Then he took a good look at the 900 pounds Dino had just done reps with. One of his friends said to him, “Let’s go, man.” As they walked away, the youngest one of them said, “Are those fake weights?” “No, man,” said the third guy. “He’s just a freak of nature.” Dino had ignored their conversation and had started unloading the bar, when an older guy came over.

“How’ve you been, Dino?” He asked. He looked to be in his late forties, with a solid beefy build. He looked like a football coach.

“Hey, Coach,” said Dino. I’d pegged it. “You’re here late.”

“I’ve been doing some bartending at my friend’s bar, so I come here after hours sometimes.”

“This is my high school wrestling coach,” Dino said to me. “This is my friend Tommy.” We shook hands.

“When Dino wrestled for me, he weighed in around 139. You’ve gotten…bigger.”

“Yep. I’ll be twice that soon,” Dino said as he checked himself out the mirrored wall. We watched him hit the classic Arnold side-chest shot.

“What are you now, around 25?”

“Just turned 23,” answered Dino, as he heaved his massive pec shelf out.

“I hear you’re playing on the hockey league down at the Y.”

“Uh huh,” Dino replied, as he squeezed his biceps out at his side and puffed his chest out even more.

“Although I hear you spend more time in the penalty box than on the ice,” the coach said. “You got to keep that fiery Greek temper under control, son.”

Dino chuckled as he turned and posed on his other side.

“This one was always getting in trouble at the matches, hurting other wrestlers, being overly aggressive. That was when he weighed 139. Imagine what he could do now,” the coach said to me. I shuddered at the thought of it, and also hoped that Coach didn’t notice the swelling at my crotch.

“Time for dips,” Dino said. “See you later, Coach.”

“See you, kid.” As Dino waddled off, the coach turned to me and said, “Keep an eye on that big hot head for me, son.”

Yes, sir.” I watched Coach wander off. He had a hot ass for a middle aged papi. I went over to Dino, who was putting on a weight belt that had a thick chain attached to it. He was threading the chain through some 45 pound plates. “I’m going to go do some cardio,” I said.

“”My chest is so pumped, bro.” He stood up and thrust it at me. “Feel it.” I put one hand on each pec. Felt like I was palming two basketballs. He grunted. “Dude. It’s like you’re touching my cock. Fuck. Can’t get them pumped enough! Gonna do a couple hundred dips.”

“Come get me when you’re done,” I said. He jumped up on the dip bars and started repping. I’m not sure he even heard me. I watched him muscle out reps. I counted four 45 pound plates on the belt. He was doing dips with my bodyweight added to it.

Before I turned to go, I said, “Should I worry about the temper thing?”

He did a couple more reps, then stopped at the top and held himself there, his triceps exploding out. “Nah,” he huffed. “Coach worries too much, bro.” I looked at the way his beefy hands gripped the bars, how thick his wrists were, and how the metal seemed to be denting in under his fingers. “I’ll come find you when I’m done,” he said, and started dipping again, deeply and rhythmically.

I went and got on a treadmill. I wouldn’t be hard to locate, I was the only one doing cardio. I wasn’t a big fan of it myself, and twenty minutes was usually my upper limit. So when thirty minutes had gone by, I was happy to hear Dino beside me saying, “Hey, bro.”

He looked like a muscle experiment that had gone very successfully. I hopped off the treadmill and looked at him. His shirt was so tight, we were going to have to cut it off of him. And his chest and delts, so swole.

“You ready, bro?” he asked.

“Yeh sure am. Dude…look at you!”

“I know bro. My whole fucking body feels like an engorged cock on extra viagra. I can barely flex.” He clenched his fists and barely bent his arms. Muscle swelled out everywhere, and a finger-thick vein ran down his arm and over the top of his forearm, sending out branching veins along the way.

He turned to go, and I followed him out. He walked with an exaggerated swagger, but I think that was the only way he could move.

We got out to the parking lot just as someone pulled in next to Dino’s Camaro. When the driver opened his car door, it banged into the passenger side of Dino’s.

Dino stopped dead in his tracks. As the guy got out of his car, Dino said, “Dude. Did you just dent my car?”

The guy looked at the car door, and said, “No, man. There’s barely a scratch. That’ll buff right out.” The guy looked up at Dino, and I heard him go ‘whoa’ under his breath. In the dimly lit parking lot, Dino’s physique looked shadowy and ominous. He walked up between the cars, effectively blocking the guy between himself, the two cars, and the building we were parked up again.

I could see the guy getting nervous. “Hey, man, it’s cool. I can buff it out for you.”

“You touch my car again, I’ll break both your arms.” Dino’s voice had hardened into a deep growl. “You parked too fucking close.” Dino put one hand on the side of the guy’s car and pushed. The car skidded sideways on the pavement about six inches. Dino flexed and his shirt ripped in several places, down his lats and the middle of his back, literally hulking out of his tee. He grabbed the collar and ripped it open, then tossed the shredded tee aside. His size and power became even more evident as he put one finger on the side of the guy’s car, and pushed it another half foot. I noticed that his bull neck was bigger than the guy’s quad. A wet spot soaked through the crotch of the guy’s shorts as he pissed himself. “You should wear diapers if you have bladder problems,“ Dino said.

The guy backed up against the wall, and looked around in a panic for an escape route. There was no way passed Dino, so the guy jumped onto the hood of his car and slid across it. He hit the ground running, but not fast enough. I couldn’t believe how quickly Dino was on him. He grabbed the guy, lifted him off the ground and flopped him to the blacktop. Then he picked him up, and wrapped his powerful arms around him in a bearhug. I saw his arm muscles tense up as he began to squeeze. The guy’s eyes bugged out as his ribcage compressed. I heard a crack.

I went up to them, and put my hand on Dino’s rock hard delt cap. “Bro,” I said. “It’s enough.” Dino looked at me like he’d forgotten I was there. Some of the rage drained from his face. His bearhug slackened. Then he slammed the guy into the back of his car. “Tell my car you’re sorry,” Dino said.

“What??” stammered the shaken dude, holding his side.

“Say ‘I’m sorry I scratched you, Mr. Camaro.’”

“Aw, man, “ the dude groaned. Dino took a step toward him. “Ok, ok.” The guy looked over at Dino’s car and said, “I’m sorry I scratched you.”

“Mr. Camaro.”

“I’m sorry I scratched you, Mr. Camaro.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Dino said, cracking his knuckles. Then he turned to me and said, “Let’s go.” We got into his car. He gripped the steering wheel so hard I heard it creaking. The vascularity of his arms was crazy. The car smelled like Alpha. I could feel the jacked up energy coming off him. “Did you see that dude’s face, bro? I thought he was gonna cry.”

I might have cried if I had been that dude. I looked at the side mirror and saw him still leaning on the back of his car, too afraid to move.

Dino started the car and backed out. We rolled slowly by the poor guy, and then Dino floored it. The rear tires of the Camaro peppered the guy and the side of his car with flying gravel. They left a couple dozen pings on the car’s paint and windows. “Don’t worry,” Dino said to me as we roared out of the parking lot. “They’ll buff out.” As we flew down the street, he said, “I am so stoked right now, bro. You ever feel unstoppable?” He pounded his hands so hard on the steering wheel, it made me jump. I was surprised that his airbags didn’t go off. “I did want to beat that guy to a pulp, though. Good thing you stopped me. But now I feel like I got to break something, you ever feel that way, Tommy?”

Before I could respond, he slammed on the brakes, and brought the car to a screeching halt. He reached over and opened the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of black leather tactical gloves and put them on. The gloves were fingerless, and the padded knuckles looked like they’d been used before., they were all scuffed up.

“See that?” he said, pointing to big blue post office mailbox that was on the corner.

“Yeh,” I answered.

“Kinda looks like that guy, doesn’t it?”

“Um, not really.”

“Sure it does. Looks just like him.” He got out of the car and walked over to the mailbox. I got out just in time to see him start punching it over and over with both fists, making the steel buckle in. He was putting his back into each punch. His massive, powerful back. Despite being bolted into the pavement, the mailbox wobbled. Each blow echoed loudly down the street. When he stopped punching, he wrapped his arms on the mailbox, replicating the bearhug he’d put on the guy earlier. The metal folded under his orc-like strength. Then he roared and lifted, and the mailbox ripped out of the pavement, the bolts snapping and shooting off like popcorn. He pressed the mailbox over his head, envelopes flying out around him like frightened doves. He hurled the misshapen metal and it bounced haphazardly down the block.

He came over to me, huffing, sweat rolling off him. “Blow me, bro.” He whipped out his hard cock. “It’ll take the edge off. Works every time.”

“What?” I said. “Right here?” I looked around, but it was 3 in the morning, and the street was deserted. Honestly, I would have blown him on a crowded city bus, I was so horny for a taste of his power. I got on my knees and he took my face gently and guided me down on him. I pulled the waistband of his sweats over his muscular ass, and held onto his heaving glutes as he fucked my face. He must have been so pent up, because it didn’t take long before he was unloading down my throat. Over and over. So much cum. At one point, he pulled out of my mouth and shot all over my face. Then he pushed himself back down my throat and came some more. I’d think he was finished, but he’d start again. His Greek yogurt kept flowing and spurting.

Finally, he pulled out and leaned against his car, spent. The raging beast inside him seemed to retreat, at least for now.

“You hungry, bro?” he asked me.

“Seriously, dude. I’ve got enough protein in me to last a week.”

“Lightweight,” he said. “I’m starving. There’s a 24 hour pizza place right down the road.”

“Don’t you ever sleep?” I asked him.

“I’ll sleep. After pizza.”

 

[Mdlftr]

I LOVED this description:

 

“”My chest is so pumped, bro.” He stood up and thrust it at me. “Feel it.” I put one hand on each pec. Felt like I was palming two basketballs. He grunted. “Dude. It’s like you’re touching my cock. Fuck. Can’t get them pumped enough! Gonna do a couple hundred dips.”

[arpeejay]

[Lutz]

Would have loved to see it ä. 

Mor please

[Ro20316]

Dino is a force. One u dont want to mess with. I feel our guy will be witnes od that force many many times even he will be the cause wanting to get Dino angry so he can work it out with a rough sex session.

[NickMuscleFan]

The night before Dino left for the police academy, we had dinner at his family’s diner. He was stoked.

“How long will you be gone?” I asked him.

“Just a month at the main training center, then five more months back here at the local academy.” I was envious, thinking of him being around dozens of strapping, alpha police cadets, and it must have showed on my face. “You should have signed up, too, bro. You’d be a good cop.”

“You think so?”

He laughed and said, “No. You’re too normal to be a cop.”

“Hey,” I said. “I know some normal cops.” He looked at me with a smirk. “Ok, maybe not,” I said, “but I don’t know many normal people. Do you?”

“I know you. And except for your freak muscle lust, you are the most normal dude ever.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, but I took it as one. He was right about the muscle lust, for sure. Just watching his pit bull sized jaw muscles flex as he ate was turning me on. But he was as bad as I was, at least for his own muscle. Both of us got hard just watching him step on my scale, and seeing that his weight had gone up from the day before. He was leaving for camp at 269 pounds.

“They told me I should abstain from sex before coming down for training.”

“Dude. You leave tomorrow. You going to do it?”

“That depends. What’s ‘abstain’ mean?”

“It means to not have any.”

“Oh. I thought so. Well then, no, I’m not gonna abstain. I was planning on tapping your honeypot until the sun comes up and I have to leave.” He looked at me like I was dessert.

“Good,” I said, my honeypot twitching with anticipation.

When we got back to my place, he went right for the wall mirror. He took off his shirt and started flexing. He looked like a young Lee Priest.

“You wanna see me grow more?” he asked, as he admired himself in the mirror.

“Yes.”

“How much more? Fifty pounds?”

“More.”

“100?”

“100 plus.”

“Bro. I’d be bloated up like a tick. I’d barely be able to move.” He turned towards me and flexed his arms again. Then again. His peaks rose up higher with each flex. “Touch them,” he said. I went over to him and felt his arms. “Almost 24 inches, bro,” he said as I palmed his biceps.

We ended up having sex in almost every room of the house. We broke furniture and knocked shit off the walls. By the time dawn approached, I was exhausted and bruised. I limped to bed as Dino showered and got ready to leave. After he was gone, I fell into a coma-like sleep.

A week went by before I heard from him. He was all charged up. Things were going well, and he was loving the training.

“They get us up at 5 o’clock every morning for a 5K run,” he said. “One of the guys is a cross country runner, and has won a bunch of marathons, so the very first day he ran ahead of the rest of us, all cocky. Until the last couple hundred yards, when I ran up behind him, close enough for him to feel me breathing down his neck. He kept turning around, all pissed off. The dude weighs about 130 pounds, so what was he gonna do? I’m twice his size. I could see him getting nervous, picking up his pace. Thirty yards from the finish, I powered past him. Felt so good. Afterwards, I caught him checking me out in the shower, like he couldn’t believe my stumpy musclehead legs could outrun him. And he wasn’t the only one looking, bro, cause you shoulda seen my quads. So veiny and swole. You’d a nut yourself. These quads are bigger than their waists. I bet they’re bigger than marathon dude’s chest. I’ve been doing the same thing to him every morning run. Dude hates me.”

It was pretty amazing that Dino had the stamina to outrun a runner. It’d be like seeing an antelope lose a race to a bull. When I mentioned it to him, Dino said, “Must be the hockey, bro. Pushing my legs over and over on the ice. I got twice the stamina of most the guys here. And my flexibility, turns out that’s not a problem either. I blasted the old record of 42” for vertical jump.”

“How high’d you get?”

“Sixty inches.”

“Dude, holy shit. That’s five feet!”

“Yep. Landed it with a pretty loud thud. Everyone jumped. The instructor said I must have kangaroo strength in my thighs.”

When I didn’t saying anything, Dino said, “You touching yourself, bro?”

“Yes.”

“Me too. Thinking of you feeling these kangaroo quads, Tommy. So strong, bro. And tomorrow night, we’re having an arm wrestling competition.”

“Oh, fuck,” I groaned. “Who you think’s gonna win?”

“Bro. You’ve seen these arms, right?”

“Yeh.”

“And these delts.”

I heard him slapping them. The sound of beefy hand hitting head-sized shoulders.

“I could break their arms, bro. I’ll try not to, but they’re so weak next to me. Even the big guys. I see the lifting their puny weights. I out lift them all. It’s not even close. So fucking strong.” I heard him kissing something.

“You kissing your own arm?” I asked him.

“Yeh, bro. You wishing you were my lips?”

“Yes.” His self-love pushed my buttons hard.

“Anyone making a video of this competition?” I asked.

“Yeh, probably. I’ll send it to you. Sure you don’t want me to snap an arm?” I heard him kiss his arm again.

“Nah, man…you sick fuck…”

“You leaking?”

“Uh huh.”

“Hold it in. Save it. I want it all.”

“You want me to hold it till you get back?”

“Yeh.”

“You gonna?”

“What? Hold it? Yeh, ok, I’ll hold it. You just better be ready to swim in spunk, bro.”

I’d be ready. But until then, I’d need a lot of cold showers.

[Wrestlejock646]

So damn good!

[Lutz]

Mmhhh I kove this

[DawnFire98]

10 hours ago, NickMuscleFan said:

They get us up at 5 o’clock every morning for a 5K run,” he said. “One of the guys is a cross country runner, and has won a bunch of marathons, so the very first day he ran ahead of the rest of us, all cocky. Until the last couple hundred yards, when I ran up behind him, close enough for him to feel me breathing down his neck. He kept turning around, all pissed off. The dude weighs about 130 pounds, so what was he gonna do? I’m twice his size. I could see him getting nervous, picking up his pace. Thirty yards from the finish, I powered past him. Felt so good. Afterwards, I caught him checking me out in the shower, like he couldn’t believe my stumpy musclehead legs could outrun him. And he wasn’t the only one looking, bro, cause you shoulda seen my quads. So veiny and swole. You’d a nut yourself. These quads are bigger than their waists. I bet they’re bigger than marathon dude’s chest. I’ve been doing the same thing to him every morning run. Dude hates me.”

It was pretty amazing that Dino had the stamina to outrun a runner. It’d be like seeing an antelope lose a race to a bull

This segment was my favourite. There's just something so hot about this short musclebull out running the marathon runner. Fuck, that endurance! (Dino's heart must have been pounding). 

Also: 24-inch arms. 

[Mdlftr]

THIS:   

 

“Yes.” His self-love pushed my buttons hard