Tuesday, October 17, 2006

A Letter to Mr. One-fiddy...

(Note: So this makes sense Ill explain that my friends and I don't know this guys name even though I chat to this guy at the gym a couple of times a week. So like all the other people we talk about we have given him a nickname. Like Mr Arms, The Scorpion King (Looks like The Rock and has a scorpion tatoo), Air Lats (walks around with his arms hanging out from his body like a bodybuilder, only there arn't any lats there to push his arms out) and Mr One Fiddy. Mr One Fiddy got his name from the fact that he got into the top 150 of the Australian version of American Idol. So he started as Mr 150....but then it changed to Mr One Fiddy, cause it sounds much more street...and we are so down with the street!)


Dear Mr One Fiddy,

Why are you so nice? Why do you take such a genuine interest in me and my training and my progress? Why are you in a long term relationship with a wonderful woman?
When you asked how my training was going, that was nice. But when you followed it up by saying how great I was looking (not good nor Okay but great) you rocked my world. Because your so damn genuine. And I want to touch your face.

It makes me feel bad that I don't ever say how good your looking in return. I can't! I mean, your amazingly thick chest hanging deliciously over your cut and tightly smooth abs makes me gaga when your talking to me. Its all I can do to maintain eye contact and not stare at your pecs. I don't feel like I can compliment you without sounding like a giddy school girl trying to tottally flirt with you. Thats something I'm going to work on.

Its not like you make it easy tho, just because you have a shirt on doesn't mean I cant see whats distracting me. I mean, your abs are so thick and sexy that when you get a little sweaty your tshirt sticks to your stomach and I can see every cut, groove and outline of your hot as fuk abs! Your wide rounded shoulders can be seen from space let alone across the gym, so how exactly am I meant to concentrait on not drooling on you when we talk?

And lets just not talk about when you lift your shirt up to wipe the sweat off your face and Im just stuck watching every movement of your ripped up body.

I say it to your face, and Ill say it again now...Your body is better then mine. It doesn't matter how much you say it, or think it your wide square chest, tight waist and pert/perky ass which magically holds your shorts up to gently round your ass as show it off so I want to cup it with my hands and pull you in to me... yes my arms are bigger and more ripped but I have to have something!

If when your gasping (literally gasping) at the veins popping out of my arms and forearms from my workout and Im flexing and showing off to you, if you reach out and run your fingers down the veins in my arms again I will grap you by the waist and draw your hips against mine so you can feel my growing cock as I lean into press my lips against your pert, juicy lips. I would run my hands through your natural floppy curly hair leading your head around as my mouth explores your neck and nibble on your ears. My hands would roam your smooth torso under your tshirt and play on your chest and tweak at your nipples.... So really, best if you stop with the touching.
I know you mean no harm, but really I do!



At 2:24 AM, Blogger tino2 said...

MEGA-hot... someone should put together a compendium of such scenarios... does he know u like boys?

"literally gasping" -- PRICELESS.


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