I am almost always writing some kind of muscle fiction. But my current work in progress is a memoir of my life in muscle. It will tell the tale, in a series of episodes, of my 50+ years and my obsession with muscle. Here’s a fragment to “whet your whistle”. The images are not me, or anybody I discuss, but for illustrative purposes only.
I used to work with a guy whom we all called “Arms”, or “Mr. Biceps”. His name was Joe. Joe worked in the accounting department of the firm I worked for. He was about 5’-5” tall and had a reasonably muscular body. But his arms were huge. They were developed out of proportion to the rest of his body.
Because he worked in accounting, and I didn’t, our paths didn’t cross often. But I would find reasons to go into his department to get a look at him and his arms. I noticed that he shaved his arms, they were hairless. It made me wonder what else he shaved.
This was back in the days when I was working out and competing. I was in very good shape and my own arms were 17-1/2 inches. My coworkers knew about my bodybuilding.
Arms had worked in the office for about a month and he walked back into our section of the office looking for one of the managers. He was wearing a tight polo shirt. It was tight around his chest, which was nice, and his arms were just bursting out of the sleeves. He walked by my desk once looking for the manager, then past my desk again on the way back to his office.
Once he was out of ear shot I heard, “Okay, Dean, I think you’ve got competition!”
One of my other coworkers added, “Yeah, it looks like he’s gonna be bigger than you pretty soon!”
They were laughing and I laughed with them. Arms was smoking hot.
Over time, I learned his name was Joe. He was also gay. He was in a relationship. He just liked to lift weights, he wasn’t interested in competing.
Because we were the only two people in the office that worked out we often ended up talking to one another about training and a friendship formed.
His partner was a taller, muscular Asian, who had a symmetrical build. Arms was thicker and heavier than his partner, but was still two inches or so shorter. I quizzed him about it. Arms said he and his partner weighed about the same. That should give you some idea of their builds.
I went to a party at his place and was surprised when Arms’ partner suggested that Arms and I should arm wrestle. Arms was game, so I figured what the hell. I was 4 inches taller and outweighed him by probably 50 pounds.
Seated opposite Arms, him with his sleeves rolled up to display his big biceps, though I started to get some doubts. I knew his arms measured 16 inches – smaller than mine, but in proportion to his height, they looked bigger than mine. I also knew that he loved training his arms and took it seriously.
So I pushed up my sleeves to show off my guns and we grasped each others hands. His partner positioned us so we were even and let go of our grasped hands, yelling “go”! I was distracted by how nice his partner’s arms looked and Arms got a better start and pushed my arm back about two inches before I got my shit together and started pulling. It’s hard to come back from a deficit like that, but I managed to push him back up and then slowly push him back.
He struggled against me with all his strength and made me work hard to push him down. It took me a lot longer to beat him than I’d thought it should.
We were both sweating and panting at the exertion. I congratulated him on a good effort, complementing him on his strength. He responded by flexing his pumped up arm, looking at it and saying, “I’ll beat you eventually.”
I was kind of shocked at that. But I responded that I looked forward to the day he could beat me.
I’m not sure if anybody else heard me since they were all looking at his beautiful pumped up biceps. I know that Joe heard me, because he looked me right in the eye when I said it.
He and I became friends. I enjoyed being with him. His arms were just phenomenal. They were so out of proportion to the rest of his pretty damn good physique. He was funny and he liked showing off his arms. He wore shirts that were sized for his chest and consequently tight around his biceps. He was also quick to flex. It was fun to have him in the office.
Joe was a good friend. When he moved away, I was disappointed. He was very much an Alpha Male and super worship worthy.