Muscle and Breath Control

This story is a treasure memory.

I took to the gym in my late teens, having been a fat kid. Fat kids were rare in those days. I guess that being more numerous now, perhaps there is less stigma attached to being "The fat kid", maybe not but when I see so many obese children waddling about the supermarket and I remember how much effort it has taken to recover from that and acquire the kind of body image that I can be satisfied with, I want to warn them but who needs that freaky mad old guy and his advice?

Vanity is the driving force behind my addiction. I can call it that, having admitted to myself that working out is a prop, just as many people use alcohol, caffeine and other drugs. It's a need, driven by dissatisfaction with myself. A reassurance that I am working hard to be better, to patch up things that I don't like about myself. It's not that I have a desire to gaze at myself all day, constantly checking my look, though I can see that the same feelings I have will cause some people do that.

I was not cursed with beauty, so as time marches on I am not concerned to lose what I never had. So, when I look back to how I was when I finished school and encountered adult life for the first time, a weakling, a blubber ball too and so beaten down by the taunts of others and my own self oppression, that on meeting adult company for the first time as an independent but naive and impressionable teenager, I hit the wall.

Many people still live in situations where they cannot express themselves freely because of their sexuality and coming from a time before such liberalisation in the society I grew up in, many of you will understand how it feels to harbour the dark secret of your homosexual desires while dealing with all the other crap associated with becoming an adult.

For me, the gym was not just a place to make the necessary changes to my body shape, it was a legitimate opportunity to look at naked and semi naked adult males. It wasn't at all like school sports. In the gym, there was only one competitor, myself. I was more than happy to accept that there were others striving for the same objectives, some from even more problematic starting points. I would learn from instructors and from those around me how to get what I needed and realise at the same time that this was a great model for the self discipline required during the whole of adult life.

I knew from the beginning that the gym was intimately connected with my development as a sexual human being too. Right at the very beginning of the process, the first time my instructor recorded my stats, his touch was electric. Getting used to basic forms of intimacy and being able to relax were quite difficult for me. Coming from a somewhat cold family, being touched at all by an adult had been a rare experience, a school nurse, doctors when you were sick, hardly the stuff of dreams. So, when a six foot two Canadian with a toned and tanned body that would make any fitness guru proud, got busy with his tape measure in a friendly and familiar way, I kind of knew I was onto something important beyond losing my flab and shaping up. It was also about waking up to men and recognising what I wanted.

For the first few months I kept my head down, shyly, working on my routines from a program card, occasionally getting a demo of a new exercise. Occasionally I would get a tip from a more experience gym user, nutrition advise from the coaches. Progress was swift and I was delighted that the guys were quick to notice the changes.

I would look forward to seeing certain individuals and enjoy their beautiful muscularity and easy confident movement, seeking to emulate their technique and this was a huge incentive towards greater effort.

The guy that co-owned the place with his wife, would train sometimes while I was there. In his fifties but a fine example of what you can do in sculpting a great body. His big physique was ripped in a way I had not seen on any of the school sports teachers, mostly rugby players. This hunk, Don was his name, waxed his moustache and clipped his copious body hair. He loved to be admired and very shyly I loved to admire his amazing body, I was not inspired to sexual feelings about him. On the other hand, Ed, the Canadian trainer, made me palpitate and I fantasised about him constantly as I did later and for different reasons about John, the other coach, an Englishman, a tense but slighter physique.

After 3 months, I was called into a review with Ed in his office, showed my quick progress as he recorded his weights and measures and went over my program card with me, grinning with satisfaction. His broad handsome face lit up as he approved of my dramatic changes in chest size, waist, thighs etc. As he talked, I studied his twinkling brown eyes the glossy short dark curly hair that manifested not only on his head but frothed out of the top of his polo shirt, graced his fore arms, the backs of his hands his triceps. I was fascinated by it, by him. I idolised him. It wasn't love, not a crush. I just saw him as a beautiful rôle model. His body became the standard by which I would judge my own feeble shape.

When the second of these quarterly reviews arrived, he told me very carefully that because of the limitations of my bone structure I would need to be careful how I developed in order to attain a balanced look. I would be able to continue to pile on the muscle but that I'd need to proportion carefully. Words of advice that I have treasured and an example that so many gym users ignore.

He noticed my attention to the details of his beautiful body and held my gaze earnestly and boldly as we talked. I found this very hard to do but I was learning, he made me do it, somehow passing on his boldness and confidence and I smiled when I got that. I couldn't look at him as an equal but I managed eager pupil earnestly enough.

Hesitating, I admired his tan and he offered to show me the solarium, a rarity then and a new concept to me. My sessions were in downtime. The gym was always quiet during the early afternoon and the staff had time to explain things. Convenient with my shift work, having a quiet space to concentrate and learn in was another aspect of my training that would be very important to me then and ever since. That also led to other forms of learning for me.

I'd seen John a few times during my first three months but our paths rarely crossed, however, that was about to change, as Ed took me round to the Solarium, a walk-in facility in a special room where ultra-violet spots blazed their peculiar penetrating light and there was John, perhaps set up, I would never know. He was stark naked in the Solarium. An alien fantasy. His skin colour bleached by the peculiar light and his hard muscularity flattened out by it, the effect was completed by the dark blue eye protectors.

What Ed had in mind, I don't know but John, naked was a bit of a surprise because of his odd proportions. He had a colossal cock. Totally flaccid it was 8 inches long and way thicker than mine has every been fully pumped. By far the biggest I had ever seen and a profound shock. John was so relaxed about his nakedness. He turned away from the blazing lights and moved towards us, pulled off his goggles and offered his hand as if we were formally dressed, kind of English. Ed was obviously amused by my surprised expression. I was grateful myself to be shielded from the glare. The sight I realised was literally burned into my retina and I can recall it now, decades later as if I were there now.

The three of us stood in the corridor, Ed handsome and cool in trainers, sweats and a polo, myself in shorts, trainers and vest and John, a magnificent naked god-like sexual fantasy. It was a life changing moment for me. With no sexual element whatever, I suddenly felt accepted as a man in male company. Every time I set foot in the place afterwards I remembered that moment of joy and felt a rush of welcome and confidence and the next 3 months flew by.

Only once, during that next period before my quarterly review, did I see John and he was dressed for his work as a personal trainer. He smiled warmly without reference to the enormous dong carefully coiled in his jock that you would never know he was carrying. Unassuming, not proud, no air of superiority, a thoroughly likeable man.

So, I was a little surprised when John was in the office just outside the weights room when Ed ushered me in for my third quarterly review. Ed closed the door and light came in from the weights room through a window that was glazed with one way glass. There was only one guy in the gym and the receptionist, way out front, in the shop.

I can hardly believe how naive I was to think this was just a coincidence. John clasped my hand in greeting and smiled warmly his left hand clapped me on the shoulder. Ed approached me and the two of us standing in front of the full length mirror with John visible in the reflection behind us. Ed proceeded with his measures and as before made affirmative noises about my muscle mass increases, the loss of body fat, perhaps my most pleasing achievement, and looking at my program card suggesting modifications, weight increases, sets and reps. He occasionally glanced towards John with a look of approval or a smile suggesting pride in my speedy progress. All, apparently, very business like.

Then to my surprise he asked me to strip to my jock so we could look at some detail. I was still very self conscious about my body and particularly undressed. I think, with hindsight, their intention was to address this. There was a large muscle anatomy poster on the wall, which had on several occasions, in my first few session and since when I had questions, been used to explain particulars of muscle function, structure and posture. Ed now referred to this big diagram and pointed to areas I had succeeded in developing, areas where I needed to focus more effort and then wanted to talk about posture.

He nodded to John and explained that he would use John as an example and John shucked off his trainers, removed his shirt and joggers and stood next to me in front of the mirror in just his jock and socks as I was. His almost hairless body defined in sharp relief by the side lighting from the one way window. We're roughly the same height, however the strength and definition of the older man, not to mention the over-generous stuffing in his jock were more than obvious differences between us. I was just 19.

Ed stepped up to John and showed me how high John's chest was in comparison to mine, how far back his shoulders were, how far forward his pelvis was in comparison to mine. He encouraged me to look carefully at how John was standing and try to emulate what I saw. This examination caused me nothing but pleasure as my eyes roamed freely across that splendid physique with explicit permission to linger in all the places that gave me greatest pleasure.

Next, he put a hot hand very close to but not touching my upper chest and told me to lift my chest to this point which I did. It felt unnatural posture for me but very good to feel the touch of that strong hand on my naked flesh. I could also see in the mirror how good it looked and smiled at the recognition which pleased Ed greatly. He told me to try to put my shoulders back as I saw John's. I tried but he then explained that without training the muscles it would not work and also how we might address this. Finally, I was told to keep my chest as high as possible and my shoulders back as far as possible and to focus on that, he removed his hand and his left went to my bare backside and his right to my belly where my broad elasticated jock belt cut into the belly fat. He pressed in such a way as to encourage me to rotate my pelvis forward, instructing me to make that motion as far as possible using the muscles of the lower abdomen and clenching my buttocks slightly.

Apart from the uncertainty of having another man's hand on my arse I didn't fully comprehend what was being asked. So Ed asked John to assume the posture I had been in with my arse out and my belly out. My natural posture. This he did. He then explained that what they were trying to do was to teach me how to stand in a stronger way, better for my back and more confident and masculine in appearance. In response to my question about the muscle action, Ed asked John to demonstrate.

At which point, things got a little warmer in that dimly lit office.

John slowly rotated his pelvis way back and then way forward our attention focused, for the purpose of study, on on his lower abdomen, his tremendous groin and his upper legs as he moved. Ed pointed out the muscles as they moved. It was beautiful and simple and even an idiot could have understood. Then to my astonishment John dropped the jock and stood there totally naked and without any kind of change to his business-like manner, repeating those slow rotating movements. Ed pointed to the subtle V shaped muscle group, the pectineus, just above the root of John's rather distracting penis. As John moved his hips I could see this area change and it made sense to me about pushing the pelvis forward when I could see the action of muscles that were invisible on my own body due to sub-cutaneous fat.

Ed asked me to look at that area on my own body and compare it to what I saw on John's body and before I could think, I was naked facing John and imitating the rotating movement he was making. This was quite surreal enough, looking back at the scene but then Ed moved in and told me to use my diaphragm to blow out the lower section of my abdominals and to pinch slightly less with the buttock using the abdominals more, pointing to the pronounced step of the rectus internus muscle on John's magnificent form. I tried this producing a comic belly. John showed me how to lift the chest and tighten the abs at the same time, which looked fantastic on him then push the hips forward as you rotate the pelvis forward. As he did so, his monster awoke with a lurch and a noticeable increase in girth. I managed to pretend I hadn't noticed this.

Ed asked me to copy what I had seen and as I lifted my chest, and tightened my not yet visible abs, I focused in the mirror on my lower abs and I blew into the area as I rotated my hips forward. The result was the same as John in that my own cock gave a jolt and began to rise. As I did this manoeuvre, Ed told me to concentrate on holding the posture and breath in and out in just the chest. Once this was set in motion, John praised my progress and then said as I breathe in I should focus the breath into the groin and push the hips forward while still tensing the abs. As I repeated this, I felt my blood pressure rise with the effort and the concentration, he repeated the movement with me and at each breath my cock swelled dramatically, slowly stripping my foreskin and I noticed in the mirror the reflection of a tiny pearl of pre-cum at its tip. Horror.

Ed reassured me that although it would not be possible to develop that particular part of my anatomy, placing his warm right hand under my swollen member and his left under the astonishing weight and power of John's half erect cock, I could optimise the whole effect of my nakedness through regular exercise. At which John consciously pumped his cock across Ed's palm recommencing the rocking thrusting gesture we had just practiced together.

Ed nodded his expectation to me and I copied John. As that massive snake expanded and stiffened I realised why his lower abdominal muscles were so strong and seeing this understanding dawn he slyly winked at me showing for the first time anything other than the ex-Royal Marine stiff upper lip. He used his lower abs and his erectile muscle to lift his huge cock clear of Ed's hand and into a steeply angled erection and I could see the pectineus tighten in a vivid V and he pointed to this and smiled devilishly as the thick veins began to stand out boldly along his cock and the head bulge and grew glossy with lust pumped right into the tip. It was amazing to see that glorious girth rise in such a way. As it did, Ed explained that the erectile muscle, which you feel when you stop yourself from pissing, can be trained intensively in this exercise. John then allowed the head to lower, almost mechanically, to Ed's palm once more. Retaining his professional demeanour throughout, Ed bid me do the same move. I was in a bit of a trance by this point, not really feeling in touch with reality but using the breathing and the posture and the muscle groups I'd been shown, I actually managed to make it work albeit very briefly and without much control. I couldn't quite believe what I was doing as my cock fell back to a more accustomed position but onto a man's hand.

As if to reassure me, to ground me, Ed smiled and winked at my blushing face and brought his fingers around my engorged genitals. Hefting the whole ensemble firmly as my knees buckled at the feel of his touch. I could hardly fall to the ground with a big strong personal trainer holding my manhood (in training), he pulled me up sharply by my cock and balls and by way of a reality check it was instantly effective. There in that office, I was expected to practice this posture, holding the peak of my erection for as long as possible each time.

It didn't take long before the muscles, unused to the intense activity would no longer produce an upward movement beyond the horizontal. Meanwhile John had raised his cock almost to the vertical plane of his flat belly and held it there with his perfected muscular control while I tired my own abs to exhaustion. Ed explained as I drained my energy that using adrenaline and testosterone rush and intensely focused concentration was essential to maximising training and using a sexual feeling was a great way to learn how to focus those 3 elements. He said it would stick in the mind, as it has done all my adult life and I use the memory whenever I need that extra incentive.

The two could see that I had had it. I was praised and then I was rewarded. Ed let go my cock which sank a few degrees until he pulled his polo off over his head and his tanned and bristling and bulging torso came into view, a tiny silver crucifix lay on his dark chest hair. My jaw just dropped and with it ,my inhibitions. I was so far out of my comfort zone as a naive youth it no longer mattered. Ed shucked down his joggers and jock and out of the dark foliage of his magnificent thighs sprang his eager erection. A twin for my own as it turned out. The whole man. I was overwhelmed. Nothing more needed to be said between us.

I knew nothing of sex beyond teenage fumblings with one or other of my female friends and no knowledge of the dark arts associated with man on man sex besides the horror stories of urban gossip, so I had no real idea of what to do but when you're in that kind of company with men who are used to explaining physical things with demonstrations and gestures, I didn't have any concerns about what I should do but a couple of trust issues occurred about what they might do to me. To be frank, I was so high by this point they could have roasted me on an open fire and I'd probably have thanked them for it.

The next muscle control lesson was no easier. Relaxing the throat. However, the skilled demonstration I received allowed me to acquire the new control amazingly fast. John knelt before Ed's throbbing cock and stuck his tongue out as far as he could, relaxed his jaw and with his tongue still clearly visible moved forward slowly and I watched, spellbound as the whole of Ed's erect cock, a good, fat seven inches, passed from view and John wriggled his tongue around, tickling Ed's hairy balls with his nose pressed hard up against Ed's thickly thatched pectineus muscles. I watched, transfixed as Ed withdrew his cock and as John stayed, tongue protruding towards Ed's groin, Ed thrust forward in to the hilt again.