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Geek God

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I was a fat fuck in High school. I mean fat–6 foot tall and I weighed like 360 my senior year. I’m only guessing, ’cause the only time I weighed myself the scale didn’t go up over 350. I wasn’t always that big, but I really ballooned out in Junior and Senior years. I was (am) also fairly uncoordinated, so I had no interest in sports. Gym class was the worst. My strengths, on the other hand, were math and sciences. As if that wasn’t enough, I had acne. Needless to say, I was a geek. I hung out with my geek friends and dreamed of the cuties in school that I could never touch. I knew I wasn’t much to look at, so I guess you could call me shy. Underneath it all, though, I was a butterball. I couldn’t get mad or hold a grudge to save my life. No one really fucked with me, being over 350 they were probably afraid I’d sit on them. I wasn’t much of a partier-do you have any idea how much beer it takes to get someone my size buzzed? I chose to play video games by myself or study. And so it went. I entered college a big fat geeky virgin.

College changes a man. You’re at a crazy time in your life, surround by your peers also in a crazy time, and you’re being introduced to all sorts of new things. Only a week into my freshman year one of the guys in the dorm went to work out, and some of us joined him. I had never worked out at all. I was too clumsy to do much more than walk. I gave the bench press a try. It was awesome. For the first time there were no teammates to jeer me, no opponent to gloat over my mistakes. It was just me and my will against gravity and some steel. I was in love. I became a gym rat, just like that. I took to it like I suppose only an 18 year old can-3 hours or more every day, mostly late at night, trying new positions, going up in weights, sometimes so exhausted I had trouble getting my T-shirt off afterwards. I was enthralled with it all. Occasionally, I could hear the boisterous laughter of other college kids on their way to parties. At the window between sets, I could sometimes see them-small groups moving along the sidewalks. Some people chose to party. I chose to lift. I didn’t even care about the way my body was changing, I pretty much went to class, ate, lifted and slept. My favorites were triceps extensions, calf raises and, of course my first love, bench.

As a fat guy, I had snickered the outrageous claims that you should listen to your body, it will tell you what it needs to eat. Now it seemed true. I found myself passing up the dessert bars for meat. Unfortunately, most of the meat in the college dining hall was soy, but my body told me what it craved. I started spending much of my disposable income on weekly steak dinners. Looking back on it, I am amazed how far I came so quickly-less than a month to benching 250. I was squatting six plates in two months. Steroids got nothing on the 18 year old body.

It was cold by late September, and the warm, bulky clothes everyone wore covered up the changes underneath. My clothes started to hang on me. My coat hung loosely off my shoulders. I didn’t have the money to buy new clothes, so I just cinched up the drawstrings and pressed on. I was still a geek, an engineering student, still staring at the ground.

During finals week I was studying 16 hours a day. You’ll do strange things when you study that much. I got so bored I checked myself out in my roommates’ mirror. The change was dramatic. I wasn’t ripped by any stretch of the imagination, but I was built like a football lineman. My biceps were getting massive! I still had fat on my lower half, but it was dramatically reduced. I looked like a different man. I wondered if my parents would recognize me. I decided to shave my armpits. You do strange things when you study too much.

Perhaps it was maturity, perhaps it was my new diet, but my acne cleared up also. Following finals but before I caught my flight home, I went to the barber and told him to give me a different look. He gave me one of those floppy boy band cuts. I hated it, but what the heck. When I went home, I had the taxi drop me off next door. I took off my jacket and knocked on my door, wondering if my family would recognize me. The door opened. It took mom a few seconds to figure out it was me-the change was that dramatic. We both laughed over it. Then I went to the gym.

Christmas was fun. A cousin of mine was at the family shindig, and he had been big into lifting in his younger days. He hooked me up with some of his stuff, and we talked for hours about what worked and what didn’t. He bought me a big package of supplements for Christmas, stuff he swore by. I took it back to college with me when I returned for Winter session. I also got a ‘better’ hair cut. Now it looked like a Baldwin. I guess one could say it was better.

Back on the bench, staring up at 305 pounds of Mr. Steel, and old man gravity staring back at me. Another rep. Old man gravity was ready, ready to jump on me. If I lost focus for even a second, he and his buddy Mr. Steel wouldn’t hesitate to sit on my chest like a big balçova escort fat lady sitting on a park bench in August. I remember the first time I thought of that analogy, I actually laughed and dropped the weight on my chest. Fortunately, I was only warming up, and I could recover. I wondered what kind of a person I had changed into. Then I did another set.

Winter session was easy since I was only taking two electives. This allowed me even more time in the gym. I started an aerobic routine of stairstepper, bike and Nordic Track to go with my near fanatical lifting. I was so damn klutzy that I had difficulty staying on the treadmill. Fortunately, they got a longer one, and I started using that also. I rationalized that the reason I hated working out in gym class in high school was the heat-the cold made exertion so much easier. I also discovered that once you shave your armpits, you can’t go back.

I turned 19 and celebrated by easily benching 325. I wasn’t satisfied. If anyone else was working out, I couldn’t do my upper sets of squats due to lack of Mr. Steel. I weighed myself at under 280. My biceps measured over 20″.

Spring semester started with eight inches of snow on the ground. The students moved around with their thick overcoats. I started hitting the books more than the gym, but I kept my nightly dates with Mr. Steel and old man gravity.

Just like that, a warm front hit in mid March. As luck would have it, it happened on a weekend. Temperatures soared. I hit the gym Saturday night late, as I usually did. The gym was empty, plenty of Mr. Steel for me to abuse. I was feeling great, and I foolishly attempted three plates and two dimes (355 for those of you keeping score at home) for the first time and without a spotter. It was a goal that I had been working towards for weeks. I was so focused I slammed it up with stunning ease. I was pumped! I practically danced out of the gym. The air felt warm, even at midnight. I took off my sweatshirt and stashed it in my bag, enjoying the feel of the night air on my bare arms from my sleeveless t-shirt, the first time they had been bared in months. My biceps had grown immensely over the previous months, and I felt good. My thighs were enormous. My waist was so slim my shorts bunched up when I pulled the drawstring tight, even though I had bought them only two months ago. I thrust out my chest and raised my arms and let out a war-whoop at the moon. No one answered, and I walked alone into the silent night.

Going down the walkway to my dorm, I spotted two coeds coming towards me. One was clearly drunk. College can be a crazy time, but I chose to lift steel rather than party. As they got closer I started to hear them. The drunk one was quite rambunctious, leaning on the other girl and raving.

“An’ I want lotsa whipped cream and some mint chocolate chip and some butter pecan…” She seemed to be rambling about an ice cream sundae she wanted.

“We’ll get you every flavor you want,” the other girl, now within earshot, said.

We were about 15 feet apart, and the drunk girl stopped and looked at me. She pointed right at me and said, quite loudly, “I want that flavor.” Thank God I was smart enough to stop.

“Kelly!” the other said reproachfully, and pulled her along.

Kelly, apparently the drunk girls name, yanked her arm away from her friend, straightened up, and walked over to me.

“I want this flavor now!” She stood in front of me, swaying slightly, pointing right at my chest.

“Kelly,” the other girl implored, still standing where she had been left. Looking back on it now, I still can’t believe I was smart enough to respond.

“I’m right here,” I said, dropping my bag and holding my hands out in front of my sides with palms up. She knew what she wanted. She grabbed the front of my t-shirt, tugged me down to her and kissed me. No messing around, her tongue went right out and split my lips. My first kiss. I had seen movies, so I had a vague idea of what to do, but mostly Kelly was driving, and I was along for the ride. I could taste the beer in her as her tongue battled mine. Stunned, my hands stayed out by my sides. As I recall, I was so shocked I didn’t even poppa chubby. The moment had to end. She pulled away and let me straighten up. We were both swaying now. I, at least, was seeing stars.

“Kelly!” the other girl snapped, “Get over here!”

Kelly took a half step towards her friend. “Why? He’s good. Give him a try.”

“Kelly!” she snapped again, her eyes bugging out in embarrassment.

“It’s OK,” she said, “He won’t bite.”

“Yeah,” I echoed numbly, “I won’t bite.”

“Yeah,” Kelly chirped, wiping her mouth, “He won’t bite, it’s only a kiss.”

“It’s just a kiss,” I repeated. Just a kiss, HAH! I was asking to share the second kiss of my life with a second girl all in about 30 seconds

The other girl stepped towards us, but only close enough to grab Kelly’s hand. She kept Kelly between us, almost like a shield.

“No, karşıyaka escort I don’t kiss strange guys.”

“What about Jen’s party?” Kelly mocked, pulling the other girl a little closer. Even in the poor lamp lighting I could see her blush.

She was standing next to Kelly now, and she snuck a furtive glance at me.

“I was drunk then, Kel,” she said in a lowered voice.

“Yah,” Kelly continued, nudging her to me, “So you couldn’t enjoy it. Kiss him! It’s only a kiss!”

She snuck another look a me, biting her lower lip. She looked at Kelly, who nudged her again. She looked at me, and I shrugged my hands in a subtle invitation. The other girl peered around me and then checked behind to see if anyone else was around. She took a deep breath. Kelly nudged her again, and the other girl shushed her. She turned and raised her eyes to mine. She was actually kinda cute, I thought. Dark, shoulder length hair framing an attractive face. She stood maybe 5′ 4″, a little shorter than Kelly and looked to be a little smaller in stature.

“OK, its only a kiss,” she said, stepping close to me.

“You sure?” I stupidly asked.

“YES,” said Kelly.

The other girl flashed dagger eyes at Kelly before turning back to me and nodding. She grabbed the front of my t-shirt to tug me down like Kelly had done. Impulsively, I didn’t lean down but instead quickly raised my hands under her armpits and lifted her up to me. She must not have been tight with old man gravity, cause she seemed light. She squeaked in surprise, her eyes bugging out. I moved her closer, my eyes open and looking into hers, and kissed her. We kept our lips together, and I felt her tension fade as I stared into her eyes. Her lips parted as her eyes slowly closed, and our tongues met. I closed my eyes and kissed her as best I could. I had no trouble holding her up, my strength doubtless fortified with prolific amounts of adrenaline and testosterone. She was sober, but she tasted like wine to me. I enjoyed this kiss, not being in shock like I was for the first one.

“Hey!” Kelly barked, interrupting our moment. “I wanna get picked up!”

We broke the kiss and locked eyes as I lowered her. “I wanna get picked up!” Kelly repeated.

The other girl stepped back, our eyes still locked.

“He’s good, huh?” Kelly asked.

“Yeah,” the other girl said coyly, looking at Kelly and wiping her mouth. I must have been a bit messy.

“You don’t even know his name,” Kelly teased.

The other girl ‘tsked’ her. Kelly moved in front of me and held up her hands.

“My turn,” she said, “Pick me up too!”

She was pretty also, I finally noticed, with sandy brown hair, longer than her friend’s, but not by much. She looked quite a bit more buxom than her friend also. I reached under her arms and picked her up. She dove into the kiss again, and I followed her. I could feel her hands caressing my bare biceps, and she purred in our kiss. Finally, we broke, and I put her down, her eyes still half closed and a big grin on her face. She wiped her mouth and turned her head to the other girl.

“He’s good. Can I keep him?” Her hand took mine, our fingers intertwining.

“No, you’ve had your fun. Let’s go,” her friend admonished.

“Can you come with us?” She turned back to me to ask.

“No, I have to get back to my room and take a shower,” I said. I regretted it immediately, I should have gone with her. “You can come with me, though,” I quickly added.

“OK,” Kelly said.

“NO,” her friend stated firmly.

“C’mon, Jill, he’s fun! Let’s go with him!”

“No,” Jill said unconvincingly.

“I have beer in my room,” I added desperately. Actually my roommate did, but he was gone this weekend.

“She doesn’t need any more beer,” Jill said sternly to me.

“I wanna beer,” Kelly said. “Let’s go.” She started leading me away. I stooped to grab my bag.

“Kelly, no!” Jill insisted.

“You don’t have to join us,” Kelly said. “Me and…,” she paused as she realized she didn’t know my name, “him will just go ourselves.”

Jill looked uncertain.

“C’mon,” I said, “I’m just up the hill. We’ll be there in a few minutes. And I’d hate to have you walk back alone.”

“We don’t even know your name,” Jill protested.

“Tarzan,” Kelly interjected before I had a chance to introduce myself.

“Works for me,” I said, and slung my bag over my shoulder. I started walking, hand in hand with Kelly. Jill joined us on my other side, looking somewhat embarrassed with her arms crossed. I awkwardly held out my free hand to her. She looked at my hand and then at me. She rolled her eyes and reluctantly took my hand. We walked up the hill. My head was swimming at the events of the night, and now I was walking hand in hand with two girls. Who’da thunk! Jill looked away into the darkness, perhaps unwilling to encourage me. I could smell the distant scents of their perfume mingling with the smell of a spring night–intoxicating. çeşme escort College can be a crazy time. Kelly stroked my forearm with her free hand.

“You’re big,” she said.

“Why thank you,” I replied. My response hung in the air. A return compliment was required.

“You’re pretty,” I said to her. I regretted that immediately. Now I had to compliment Jill, and I didn’t need to start a compliment war between them.

“Thanks,” Kelly beamed.

I turned to Jill. “You are gorgeous,” I said, wincing internally, hoping the alcohol in Kelly would diffuse any tension.

“Thanks,” said Jill politely. Fortunately, Kelly didn’t protest.

We continued to my room, mostly listening to the boisterous Kelly. Though I tried to involve Jill, she seemed far more reserved, doubtless because she was sober. Kelly sure was perky. I let them into my room and took out two Lite beers. Kelly and Jill took one each. Kelly opened hers immediately and took a big swig. Jill watched her with a look of amused concern. Our room was laid out with everything against the walls. Starting from the left, my closet, desk, bed, a sofa to crash on, my roommate’s bed and his desk and closet on my right. Not an inch of wall space was left.

“Aren’t you having one?” Kelly asked me.

“When I get back,” I replied, gathering my shower stuff and a towel. “I’ve gotta get a shower.”

“OK,” Kelly agreed. Jill was still watching Kelly. I looked around my room-CDs lay out, a boom box, a VCR and TV, my wallet in the shelves. These girls could rob us blind. Oh, well.

“Don’t lock me out,” I said as I left the room.

“We won’t,” Kelly promised. The door hadn’t even shut when I heard Jill launch into an argument with Kelly. I knew they wouldn’t be there when I returned. I took a quick shower, put on some anti-perspirant, and returned to my room wearing only my towel, carrying my toiletries in one hand and dirty gym clothes in the other. I entered my room to find Jill, alone, sitting apprehensively on my bed. She looked at me while I tossed my clothes in the dirty pile in the closet.

“I certainly did not expect to find you here,” I said, stashing my stuff.

“Kelly had to use the rest room, and I waited in here for her.”

“Well, that was very nice of you.” I started stretching out my arms, pulling my elbow back over my head with my opposite hand. A good stretch after a hard lift alleviates discomforts in the morning.

“She ain’t gonna get lost, is she?”

“I wrote the room number on her hand,” Jill replied flatly.


Jill squirmed, clearly uncomfortable.

“Hey listen, y’all are free to go, no problem,” I said reassuringly. “I figured you’d be gone already.”

“Not your fault, but Kelly’s drunk and a handful, and I thought I should take care of her.”

“Well, how ’bout I get dressed and walk you two home?”

“That would be really nice of you,” Jill said, finally breaking into a smile. Seemingly relieved, she took another sip of her beer.

The door crashed open, and Kelly came in.

“Hey, you two ain’t fooling around, are you?” she playfully demanded, slamming the door behind her. She saw me and dropped her jaw, lewdly eyeing me up. I could feel my dick start to respond. Not good, considering I was only wearing a towel.

“Damn, you’re fine,” she finally said. Jill rolled her eyes and took another drink.

“Thanks,” I replied casually, continuing to stretch out my arms.

“You OK?” Kelly asked, observing my contortions.

“Yeah, just stretching,” I replied. “How ’bout I…”

“You want me to massage your back for you?” Kelly interrupted. She almost seemed lucid. “Those stretches aren’t doing much for you.”

“Uhhhh, sure, that would be great,” I replied, caught off guard.

“Sam was just saying…” Jill interjected, apparently she had deduced my name from something in the room.

“…that I would get dressed and walk you two home,” I finished Jill’s sentence for her.

“OK,” Kelly replied nonchalantly. “Why don’t ‘cha lay down on the sofa, and I’ll give you a quick massage first.”

Oh well, I thought, a massage is not a terrible way to end the evening. Kelly walked me over to the foot of the sofa and told me to lay on my stomach. I fell forward onto the sofa. I could not believe what happened as I did. Fast as lightening, between the moment I started toppling and when I landed, Kelly managed to rip my towel off. I hit the sofa bare-ass naked. Before this startling change of events could even register in my mind, Kelly had straddled my bare back at the waist and started massaging my shoulders.

“Hey!” I protested, shocked.

“Kelly!” shrieked Jill.

“What?” she replied innocently to Jill. “I’m giving him a massage.”

“Kelly!” Jill shrieked again, at a loss for words.

Given the situation, there was not much I could do. I was nude in front of two girls, so I couldn’t get up, and she was sitting on my back, so I couldn’t get up. From my vantage point, all I could see was Jill, eyes bugging out. Kelly continued to work my shoulders.

“Kelly, he’s…he’s…he’s NAKED!” Jill finally sputtered.

“So?” Kelly replied blankly, “I can’t see anything. You’re the one who’s looking,” she said accusingly.

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