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RECOVERY

FRIDAY, june 22, 2018 

 

MarioHervas1WELL AFTER YESTERDAY’S TRIP TO SAFEWAY, and the subsequent, requisite “recovery” from all that “shopping,” I decided I deserve a break today. And not the double-arches kind. It was more of a concerted effort to not think about Austin.

How’m I doing?

Yeah, whatever.

Not to suggest that today's muscle hunk wouldn't go a long way in helping me think of other things. I mean, really.

So anyway, even though I had that little encounter with the box boy stud yesterday, I did manage to get up another chapter of “Emery” (among other things). I hope you enjoy it. As you’ll read (if you haven’t already), our protagonist is easing into a really nice relationship with his muscle-crush.

(And BTW, if you haven’t read yesterday’s blog post, you’re required. I put a lot of work into that little yarn.)

OH, and the results of our first POLL are up. (See? I told you I had other things up.) And I have presented, for your poll-taking pleasure, another important polling question. Please click on the afore-blue-texted link. Take the new poll, then scroll down and peruse yesterweek’s results.

I was actually fascinated with some of the results from last week. Said fascination centers on how many of my CWS visitors are virgins! Whoa! I was surprised! (Please don’t tell me it's because these are under-aged visitors. If YOU ARE under-aged, you are most definitely NOT supposed to be here! Go away till you’re old enough!) But really, I was actually surprised to learn about our—apparently many—virginal visitors. I would love to learn more about y'all.

So, as an adjunct to last week’s poll, I would like to ask you VCWS to email me and tell me about yourself.

You're required.

 

 

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I LOVE TO GET GROCERIES

THURSDAY, june 21, 2018 

 

AustinSafewayI WENT TO THE GROCERY STORE TODAY because, like, I need to eat sometimes. And admittedly because there’s this really, really hunky box boy there who is more buff than you can imagine. Cuter ’n snot too.

It's funny; ever since Austin has been working there I find that I keep running out of things at home. Like just the other day I realized I didn’t have any more Cocoa Puffs. And everyone knows a serious bodybuilder like me shouldn’t ever be without Cocoa Puffs. So, yeah, I made a run.

Today, though, was my main weekly shopping trip. So I called the Safeway and made sure Austin was working today, and since he was and everything, I decided to shop. List in hand, I drove to the store.

OMG he was in fine form today. It was hot out, so he was wearing this rich blue tank top that was exquisitely skimpy. With all those muscles of his, there was more skin showing than shirt. God his back is fantastic. And everything else about him.

So anyway, when I entered the store he was bagging groceries for a little old lady. But when he glanced up and saw me, a big grin broke out over his square-jawed face. “Hey, Mr. Scott,” he called. “How you doin’ today?”

I keep telling him to call me Seanny, but he’s all hometown and corn fed, with extremely good manners.

“Great, Austin!” I smiled. “Good to see you again. How are you?”

“Awesome! Strong as ever!” And with that he raised one arm and flexed it all hard like. The thing is so big and rippling that it needs permits from the county inspection department. Even from halfway across the store it was overwhelming.

Obviously, I made a hasty retreat to the avocado (or whatever it was) aisle, what with my raging hard-on threatening to explode right then and there—and fox paw of fox paws, I wore my spandex biking shorts today. Waaaaaaaay too revealing. Whatever. But as I ran like a girl away from him, he called out, “Hey, Mr. Scott, as soon as I’m done helping Mama Smurf here load up her car, I’ll help you with your shopping like usual.”

Without looking back, I waved one hand in the air to signal my approval. I had to get away.

Austin found me in the toothpaste aisle a few minutes later and greeted me with, “Hey, Mr. Scott, how can I help you today?”

He stood really close. I could feel the heat coming off his body. (It’s a known scientific fact that muscles throw off more heat than fat.) “Well,” I said, trying to conceal my boner by standing real close to my shopping cart, “which brand of toothpaste would you recommend for teeth sensitivity?”

He studied the many choices, stroking his chin with thumb and forefinger (—which only made his arm bulge again. Holy, holy fuck. I think he totally realizes what he does to me.). “To be honest,” he mused, “my teeth aren’t that sensitive.” Then he leaned close and said softly, “Actually, it’s my tongue that’s sensitive.”

“Really?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of that before. Sensitive tongue?”

With total, innocent seriousness he added. “My ex-boyfriend broke up with me because whenever we tongued, I had to pull back.”

“No way.” I made a special effort to display shock on my face.

“Hand to God.”

“That’s horrible. I’m so sorry, dude.”

Suddenly he lit up. “Oh, it’s okay. The guy—my ex—was a douchebag. And actually, after douche left I started going to a physical therapist. He’s been helping me get over the sensitivity. It’s been a long road, but I’ve been making great progress.”

“No kidding…” I said, concerned.

“Yeah. I’m actually supposed to practice with someone every day, and well, it’s been great.”

I just nodded, lifting my eyebrows just the right amount.

“Truth be told,” he continued, “Even though it’s pretty easy to find guys who are willing to help, it’s hard to find someone who’s patient enough. The therapist says I’m good to go as far as short frenching; but I really need to concentrate on endurance now.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like over an hour at a time.”

“Yeah? Wow.” My voice was trembling almost as much as my knees.

Austin turned back to study the shelf of toothpaste again. Then, with all that youthful enthusiasm of his, he jerked when he saw the right brand. “Hey, here you go, Mr. Scott,” he smiled. God, his teeth. He certainly didn’t need the whitening brand. “Here’s a brand that might work for you.” He grabbed a box of Sensodyne® and handed it to me.

“Thanks,” I squeaked.

He bounced on his toes, all excited to be of assistance. “So, what’s next on your list, Mr. Scott?”

I love his enthusiasm, but god, he makes me feel old every time he calls me Mr. Scott.

My hands shook and I almost ripped my paper shopping list in half. “Uh…” Goddamnit. All I could think about was that square jaw of his, and those breathtakingly gorgeous lips, and what it would be like to help him with his tongue therapy. “Uh…” I repeated, “Let’s see. I think the next thing is, uh… lube!”

At first he looked skeptical. Then a grin moved across his face.

“I mean… cube! Ice cube. Or, no… I meant tube. Thank you for this tube. Of toothpaste.” I absently waved it.

He was so fucking innocent and cute. He looked at me with genuine confusion. Then he smiled. “Yeah, we got the toothpaste covered. Where to now?”

I couldn’t answer. I’d already totally embarrassed myself with the Freudian slip.

But then he got all serious again. He leaned close. “Funny you should mention lube, though.” He looked both ways on the aisle, to make sure there were no stray ears. “I had to stock up on extra lube at home because when guys come over to help me with my therapy… well, sometimes one thing leads to another, you know?” He poked his elbow into my ribs with a grin. “You know what I’m talking’ about?”

God, did I know. I mean, I wanted to know. I could only imagine.

“Carry-out at check stand eight. Austin, can you come to check stand eight, please?” The PA blared.

Austin’s countenance dropped. “Dang. Another blue hair, probably. They're nice enough—the old ladies—but I like you a lot better, Mr. Scott," he said. "Well, I gotta split.” He turned away and started jogging toward the front of the store—a vision that will stay with me till my last breath. He stopped, looked back over his shoulder and said, “But I’ll be right back to help you finish shopping, 'k?”

I nodded, then he turned away.

He was actually back in a flash. We spent nearly an hour shopping together. Seems I needed a lot of advice. He bagged my groceries then put on his sunglasses and pushed my cart out to help load my stuff. Of course, when he was done, as usual he asked, “Hey Mr. Scott, do you want to see my arm again?”

“Sure, Austin! Let’s see what you got.” I’d somehow relaxed after spending the whole hour with him.

He lifted his right arm, while he looked right at me. Holy fuck the thing was enormous. And rippling with vascularity and sexy, huge bulges. “What d’ya think?” he finally asked.

“Whoa! Austin, you’re getting bigger every week!” I could actually feel my blood pressure rising. My heart pounded. This guy was the best thing I’d ever seen. So much for being relaxed.

He relaxed and smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Scott. I’m glad you like it.” He went to grab the shopping cart to return inside, then stopped suddenly. He looked at me with a subtle frown. “Hey Mr. Scott, you wouldn’t possibly be interested…” He stopped himself and scoffed, turning away. “Naw. You wouldn’t. Never mi—”

“Be interested in what?” I stopped him. It couldn’t be, could it?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even bring it up. You’re a busy man, I’m sure.”

“Austin, please. You’re always so helpful to me here at the store,” I insisted. “How can I repay your kindness to me?” OhPleaseOhPleaseOhPlease.

He looked at his feet while he scuffed the pavement with his shoes. Then he looked up at me, all innocent, demurring, like he was imposing. “Well, if you’re busy, don’t worry about it, but… I was wondering… I get off in a half hour, and well, I was wondering if you might at all be interested in helping me… with my physical therapy? You know, with some endurance stuff with my tongue? I could flex some more for you too, if you want.”

 

[OH, and for those of you in the Northern Hemisphere, HAPPY SUMMER! It started this morning at 3:07am, Pacific Daylight Time. OH, OH! Don't miss "Emery" Chapter 2, just posted! It's in the list, after the jump!]

 

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I DO MY BEST THINKING...

MONDAY, june 18, 2018 

AbsReclining

 

...ON MY BACK. I can only imagine what you're thinking. You people are shameless. No, I was referring to when I'm trying to go to sleep. Seems that often, when I lay-me-down-to-sleep, as soon as I'm done saying my prayers to our Lord, and I attempt to greet Mr. Sandman, my brain goes absolutely nucking futs.

Brain: I see you're attempting to flag down the Sandman, but it's not working. Here, allow me to list all the things you need to do in the next week.

Me: No thanks, brain. I think I'll just put out some more flares. Apparently Mr. Sandman is having trouble seeing the runway.

And so, my brain does its best to keep me awake. To be honest, I almost always lie awake for at least a half hour. Usually an hour or more.

O'course, brainy knows the absolute best way to keep me up is to fill my mind with images and scenarios involving very muscular men. Frequently, I find myself trudging down the stairs (trying to tiptoe around the sleeping vagrants and homeless people I so altruistically take in), and find myself firing up the computer. I can only imagine what people outside my home think when they see the blue computer screen lights flash and move from around my mini blinds.

But the only thing better to induce sleep than a dose of melatonin is a good dose of climax. The afterglow, you know.

 

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JUST A QUICKIE

SUNDAY, june 17, 2018 

ToF722

 

BEEN A BUSY WEEKEND, WHAT WITH Father's Day and all. Not to mention the fact that I finally finished my review of Tom of Finland, the movie. The prudent CWS will want to avail himself of said review. It's really quite elucidating, fersher.

So unless you happen to be engaged in activities similar to the two gentlemen at the right, please enjoy the review. If you are engaged in such activities right now, please put your phone down and return to your blow job.

Oh, I also added a Tom of Finland gallery as well.

Since all this business has pushed me close to the drinking point, today's blog post will be limited. In fact, it's going to end real soon. Like, right... now.

 

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DON'T RUSH LIFE

FRIDAY, june 15, 2018 

PostFri1

 

WELL HERE WE ARE, AGAIN ON THE VERGE of having another weekend. How are you going to spend it? Me, I’m gonna do some working out, maybe read a little bit. (Yes, I do enjoy reading. I’ll post about that in the future.)

Then of course, I’ll do some TV watching. As a matter of fact I just got done watching “Tom of Finland” oh Hulu, and I plan on writing a review for y’all. I’m sure the CWS is waiting with baited breath to know what I think. Right? Right.

I have more pictures to post in the galleries too. And of course, more chapters need to be added to “Emery” and “Sir Nathan”. The work of a web’ster is never done. But you already knew that.

Whatever you are doing this weekend, make sure not to hurry. Life is too short to hurry. (Flip side of that bromide is: This blog post is too long to linger on.)

 

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COMPRESSION SHIRTS MAKE THE MAN

THURSDAY, june 14, 2018  Happy Flag Day, US!  gifUSflag

CompressionNOTE: Today’s blog is best read whilst Michael Bublé’s rendition of “The Way You Look Tonight” is playing in the background. Just a suggestion. Today’s guy is obviously the person Michael is singing about. (If you click on the afore-linked link, don't pay attention to the video part. Just listen while you read. Although that sax player is kinda cute, if you're in to twinks. Which I'm not.) Shall we blog then?:

 

IT SHOULD BE ILLEGAL for really muscular and delicious men to wear loose clothing. If I ever run for office, that’ll be one of the primary planks in my platform. That, and masturbation should be legalized so we don’t all have to hide in dark rooms in front of our computer screens while we do it.

One of the nicest examples of non-loose clothing is the compression shirt. I’ve just been introduced to this concept, even though I’ve benefited from these shirts for many years (my eyes and my dick have, anyway). Compression shirts are the ultimate in muscle-hugging wear. Obviously, not all men can pull this look off. You have to have something underneath that’s worthy of compressing.

Yet, the beauty of these handy little shirts is that they don’t actually compress the body (in the sense of making it smaller). They merely highlight things. I’m sure today’s guy looks absolutely stunning without his compression shirt. Of course, that begs the question: “Muscle men should go shirtless whenever possible."

Perhaps that’ll be the second plank in my platform: Shirts should never cover the muscles, unless absolutely necessary.

“Seanny for Office!” I might run for dog catcher or something.

The Way You Look Tonight

Some day, when I'm awfully low,
When the world is cold,
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight.
You're lovely, with your smile so warm
And your cheeks so soft,
There is nothing for me but to love you,
And the way you look tonight.
With each word your tenderness grows,
Tearing my fears apart
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,
Touches my foolish heart.
Yes you're lovely, never, ever change
Keep that breathless charm.
Won't you please arrange it?
'Cause I love you
Just the way you look tonight.
With each word your tenderness grows,
Tearing my fears apart
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,
Touches my foolish heart.
Yes you're lovely, never, ever change
Keep that breathless charm.
Won't you please arrange it?
'Cause I love you
Just the way you look tonight.
Just the way you look tonight.
Darling, Just the way you look tonight.

Songwriters: Dorothy Fields / Jerome Kern
The Way You Look Tonight lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Shapiro Bernstein & Co. Inc.

 

[OH! And did you see the first chapter of "Emery" yet? I Just posted it yesterday. It's a BSNnever before seen or posted—story, for your masturbatory pleasure. Wield your mouse (or finger if you're phoning this) somewhere on this site what says: SEAN'S MUSCLE STORIES. Like right there for example.]

 

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MUSCLE MAN SELFIES

Tuesday, june 12, 2018 

Phone1ONE OF THE BESTEST THINGS about living in the 19th year of the 21st century is that there is a plethora of cameras out there; you can't throw a dead chicken across the street without hitting someone with a camera phone. Peeps love taking selfies.

I'm thinking my favorite kind of selfies are those of muscle men. IYGIFI, I always say, and muscle studs the world over never seem to tire of photographing themselves. To the benefit of sthenolagnites everywhere.

Take today's guy. Please!

If anyone deserves to be photographed, it's this locker room stud. God, I love cameras. I don't mind this guy's body either. And that thing bulging inside his shorts is... well, it makes me weak. This guy is the total package (pun intended). All those perfect muscles, that bulge, and a gorgeous bald head to boot!

Oh, and you gotta love the phone he's using. Wonder where he got it. (Clicky on the picky to see the brand. Yeah, we have a lot of diversified interests here at MuscleStimulus.)

 

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A MAGNET OF A MAN

Monday, june 11, 2018 

MondayATODAY'S MAN LOOKS A LOT LIKE the guy I've been writing about the past few days. It's a brand new story, just for you! The character's name is Emery. I think you'll like him.

I'll probably get it up some time later this week. (The first chapter of the story, that is; not what you were thinking right there. I'll be posting it up on the site, dude.)

How long has it been since I posted a brand new story? Too long. Stay tuned!

 

[I've started on the MUSCLE GALLERIES. Check them out. Let me know who you want featured. Got pix? I'd be interested.]

 

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YOU GOTTA LOVE SUMMER

SUNDAY, june 10, 2018 

Kris1AUP HERE IN THE SPECIFIC NORTHWEST, summer is welcomed like... well, like the wonderful season that it is.  

It's a time to celebrate warmth. Sunshine. It's a time to crank up the air conditioning (for two weeks) and feel like the couple grand you spent on it was a good investment. And it's a time to go to the beach. And even though summer hasn't actually begun yet, after Memorial Day, I figure it's summer.

So it was no surprise to this well-known and rightly revered author when I found myself gazing down upon a popular boardwalk in one of Oregon's more prominent coastal towns. It's not an unusual situation for me during good, summer-like, weather. Anyway, it was during one of these moments that I observed a lone couple perched on the wrong side of the fence, ostensibly enjoying the view of the Specific. It's a big ocean, by the way.

Whilst I sat there, watching the boys go by, keeping one eye on the male half of the couple, one particularly strapping piece of manhood came strolling down the walkway. And boy, was he off-the-charts mind-blowing! I mean, look at the picture I snapped! Tell me what you'd do if you leaned over the balcony and saw THIS walking down the way!

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

I nearly fell over the railing.

But I composed myself. And then snapped today's picture. The amazing thing was that when I snapped it, two pictures actually showed up on my phone! Mouse over the picture, and you'll see. Click on it and you'll see even better. I have no idea how those speech bubbles got in there. So weird.

[OH... BTW, I just reposted an old story, "Bice." Check it out on my MUSCLE STORIES page. Stuff is listed alphabetically there, so, it'll be, you know, right between the "Adam" & "Chad" stories.]

 

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A QUICK PEC LESSON

Saturday, june 9, 2018 

PecsYupTODAY'S LESSON IS ON THE PROPER DEVELOPMENT and display of the pectoralis major. The pectorals, jointly known colloquially as the chest, are the prominent muscles at the upper portion of the torso, usually just above the abdominals.

Well-developed pecs are often a source of pride in a man; they are frequently admired by onlookers and oglers, as they—more than any other muscle group (save, perhaps biceps and triceps)—tend to hypostatize virility and strength.

A chest is developed by various exercises, the most popular being the bench press. A common perception of a man’s strength often leads to the age-old question: “How much can you bench?” Other exercises used in pectoral development are: dumbell flys, dumbbell presses (both performed on either a horizontal, declined or inclined bench position); cable flys, and more.

Men who have a well-developed chest often display their pecs proudly, especially in the summer months, when open-style tank tops are in vogue (see today’s man in the white & teal outfit). Yet, pecs (and all muscle groups) can also be highlighted by wearing form-fitting clothing. Unfortunately, too many men do not know how to “feature” their pectoral development to its greatest advantage. (If you are one of these men, please let me know. I give one-on-one seminars.)

It has been suggested by many who are fortunate enough to suffer from sthenolagnia, that men with deliciously-large, hard, protruding (yet supple) pectorals should keep them on display year-round. This ideology is sometimes referred to as IYGIFI. An example of IYGIFI would be a man wearing the aforementioned white & teal tank top to any occasion, including (but not limited to) weddings, bar mitzvahs, dinner on the town, graduations, baptisms, birthday parties, bachelor’s parties, circumcisions, bar fights, airplane flights, work, etc. Obviously, this very tasteful teal ensemble could also be worn to many informal events, such as grocery shopping, getting the car lubed, your kid’s soccer game, a neighborhood bar-be-cue, and mowing the lawn, just to name a few.

The idea is to allow as many muscle-worshipping dudes as possible to feast their eyes on your delicious masculinity.

 

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YOU EXPECT MORE

Thursday, june 7, 2018 

ThursdayAWE AT MUSCLESTIMULUS REALIZE the CWS who frequents our site wants to see more than just pictures of bodybuilders posing on stage.

First of all, said CWS might possibly be interested in reading gay erotica. But I’m talkin’ ‘bout the pictures right now. We who are bona fide sufferers of sthenolagnia love muscles, but it’s a love born out of masturbatory need and lascivious desires. Muscles turn us on. Sexually. So you, the aforementioned CWS, expect more from this website. You want muscles, but you want them with a handsome face. A boner on the dude wouldn’t hurt either. Hence today’s man. Oh, BTW, mouse over the pic. Do it. I dare you. (You can click on the guy too, if you're into that kind of thing.)

One could argue that sthenolagnia is a malady—a disorder. A condition what needs correcting.

One could argue.

Yet, that’s exactly what they said (& some still say) about being gay in the first place. Personally, having gone through a “Pray the Gay Away” program, I found it to be somewhat ineffective.

So, I think we need to get the word out that there are lots of us Sthenos. If we’re going to be all-inclusive, we might want to add another letter to LGBTQ. It started out as LGBT anyway, didn’t it? (Hell, now there are a bunch of iterations of the acronym. Even: LGBTTQQIAAP.) How about we add an “S” to the basic, most used LGBTQ: LGBTQS. Has a nice ring to it. Or maybe LGBTQM. Maybe we’ll have a poll to see which one you like. Suggestions?

Which reminds me, I’ve added the ability to post comments on my blog posts. (Polls are coming!) So, dig in and start typing! Just remember, we have but one hard-and-fast rule here at MuscleStimulus. (We have other things that are hard, and some of us are indeed fast, but that’s another blog post.) The rule is this: “Be kind to one another.” Yes, it’s Ellen’s mantra. But I’m sure she won’t mind if I develop a whole rule around it. If she does object, well, that wouldn’t be very kind would it, and her credibility would go down the drain faster than her former “gardener” “Nick” gets me hard (but that’s a whole nother blog post). So when you comment, remember the rule.

Do comment though; I love feedback (if it’s from a kind heart). I even appreciate negative feedback—although if you have something really horrid to say, I’d appreciate a one-on-one email. Positive, flattering, praising, fawning accolades are always welcome. Other than muscle men, I live for compliments. It’s part of who I am. And heaven knows, I prolly deserve them. The compliments. I often wake in the morning and look in the mirror and say to me, “How in the world are you such a fantastic person? Is there any noble quality that you lack?”

Inevitably, the mirror offers up the same suggestion, every day: “How about humility?”

I scoff. “Are you seer? Moi?” I ask with concealed perturbation.

Silly mirror. The thing also makes me look ten pounds fatter than I really am. I swear.

It needs to take a lesson from Ellen.

 

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COME ONE, COME ALL!

Wednesday, june 6, 2018 

ExcitedIN CASE YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY, make sure to tell your friends about my site! Tell your tumblr friends, your Grindr® friends. Tell your partner(s). Tell your dentist. Your mother for cryin' out loud! Shout it from the mountaintops!

Thanks.

Also, I'm open to suggestions as to, you know, what to do from here. I have a rather fertile mind, but it never hurts to get a second opinion. Not sayin' I'll actually do everything that people say, but you just never know.

See ya' tomorrow!

 

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