Tag Archives: Masturbating

How Did Fitness Change My Behaviors, Thoughts, Who I Date and How I Masturbate?


This is kind of a semi-list of things that have differed since I’ve been in the world of fitness.  This isn’t a complete list mind you and this isn’t in any order.  I find it interesting to take up a lifestyle and see how many things altered then after.  How have YOU changed since your lifestyle change?

1.  I’ve tripled my confidence with broad shoulders and Popeye forearms.  I probably no longer care about my large breasts being a spectacle anymore for some.  I rely on mass.

2.  On every social media site I’m on I make sure it involves and dominates a whole culture of fitness.  I can tell those who are closest to me get annoyed by it.

3.  I look for artists who draw worthy physiques.  I watch cartoons of bravery, courage and more fit bodies.  I find myself looking up to superheros.

4.  It’s hard to find people the opposite of repulsive if they don’t workout or attempt to change some of the things they eat and drink.  This includes my favorite aunt, it’s hard not to look upon her like a complete pig by the atrocious food she eats and by all the illnesses that’s caught up with her as a resort of it, not to mention zero exercise.

5.  I don’t want sitting down work.

6.  I stand more in the train; probably due to brainwashing and saying my glutes will flatten.

7.  I used to date overweight men.  Not anymore.

8.  I now feel a man must take care of themselves by being physically active and as frequent as possible.  There should be zero reason why a man has a gut; he isn’t a woman who carries additional fat and estrogen.  A man has testosterone and should put it to use as much as possible, if he’s overweight than he’s lazy in probably every aspect of his life.

9.  A man I date must have muscles now.  If they don’t, I will assess their potential and along the line make them feel like complete shit about their bodies until they do something about it.

10.  If a man has lack of conditioning, I don’t expect him to have sex with me properly.  So, I guess, I consider this a deal-breaker.

11.  I probably have become a bully in some ways.  I have a brother and a few boy cousins who can attest to this firsthand wrath.  Still, maybe I’ve always been (never to truly weak people) a bully and coupled with my feminist and Dom tendencies, it’s not a real wonder why.  An example of a form of small bullying:  When a guy (could also be a coworker) is smaller than me or has less muscle mass I grab him by the back of the neck and shake him up like a rag doll.  Or I literally push smaller guys around so their heads jerks forward while the rest of their body flings back.

12.  I only have 2 pairs of jeans since my journey and adventures with fitness.  I have a hard time trying to get jeans past my calves than my quads.  It’s much easier to get a cotton shirt, baggy shorts and comfortable sweat pants.

13.  Since I started fitness, over time I realize I went from sanitary napkins to tampons, weak deodorant to heavy deodorant, to carrying hand sanitizer and additional locks in my book-bags for gym locker rooms.

14.  I can’t bring anyone in my circle of life who doesn’t know their worth, who doesn’t move forward, who isn’t looking for personal growth, isn’t striving to live the life of being discipline, lacks passion or tolerate bullshitters.  Thanks to fitness!

15.  The more muscles I get, the more I’m able and actually desire to be more of a woman.  Therefore I paint my nails often enough, wear spandex from time to time and wash my hair more than once a month.

16.  I learned a thing or two about patience.  Still learning.

17.  I’ve achieved great orgasms by rubbing on my DOMS while masturbating.  You should try it some time, delectable pain and pleasure.

-Pennington

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A Gym Rat’s Dream: Bench Make-out!


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When two people have been fancying and aching for identical obsessions with one another for an extended period of time, fantasizing without end, dreaming superior dreams and witlessly idolizing to only approach together becomes a mixture of strong release, beautiful liberation and a relishing of everything feeling right within moments shared.

I was flat on my back on a blue stretching mat; I had just plopped down from wincing at the unbelievable pain of foamrolling and holding the spot on my super tight hamstring from a training session I underwent angrily abusing my body a few nights ago.  Dark Knight came on over to give me more pointers and how to triple the pressure onto these spots.  I did as told for a few minutes and off he went to continue his Chest and Back Training.

Staring at the ceiling, at first creating faces of pain like I misplaced a long lost love when my ears perked up and I listened out for his grunts and how he grinded out every set of every rep with continuous vigorous craze.  It seemed as if my subconscious took over for a flash and I squeezed my legs together tightly as an orgasm contraction and closed my eyes tenderly and started to pant allowing my breathings to turn erratic.

He came around the corner with his gorgeous radiant smile and asked me how my hamstrings was doing while removing the foamroll from underneath me and placing a big bright yellow stability ball under my legs for cute support.  Among the questions, he asked if I had anything else on my mind.  I shot him the infamous zoom eye to the top left corner look with my hands plastered on my forehead running through my hair frenzied and responded with, “I’m turning myself on listening to your groans as you workout.”

On one knee he lunged to the floor (and I’m not sure what he was talking about anymore once he hovered) and tapped kissed me with his voluminous lips.  I kept my eyes open to gaze at him and he did the same.  A few more beautiful tap kisses and I placed my hands on both sides of his face to drag him in as we suckled in bliss and endorphins.

I crunched upwards towards him and eventually had to hold my neck up but as an attentive lover does, he took his own arm once he noticed and filled his arm in place.  Gleefully my hands slid around his big muscular veiny forearms and against the sweat of his layered shirts that stuck onto his football player traps.  His hands lingered on the back of my neck and then he started to lower down to fondle my breast where he felt for a nipple and pinched it with slight effort as my back arched like a cat in freakish heat.

I’m unsure how I got up from the stretching mat, unsure of how we even strolled into the main shadowy weight room.  All I knew is he sat on the bench with the barbell loaded with two 45lb plates on each side and he pulled me to sit with him, our legs on either side of the bench where he innocently kissed my hair, face and neck right to my lips.  We locked in our mouths and I started to listen and feel what was going on:  Pure chemistry.

The noise of suckling lips, hands sliding the world of bodies.  The moans of desire cascaded on each other’s faces, the eye contact of fury and eyes closed in sensational delight.  The teasing of his kisses where he would open his mouth but not dart his tongue directly into mine all led me to flow with him like a moral story.

What I enjoyed the most was how we both had on sweat and damp clothing from our workouts: I had set out for my many rounds of heavy bag kicks, knees and core work while he gave his body away to monstrous giant sets.  But our funks didn’t matter.  I believe it’s what gave us another beautiful edge.

And I allowed him freely to massage my breasts together from above fabric while he rubbed my fiery nipples.  Then every now and again he would pull me in by the waist as my hands rubbed on his towering chest pinching his nipples from both over and under his shirt.  Then our hands made its way below the waist where he placed my hand on his member and his hands went under my sweat pants above my panty where he played with my clitoris and soothe me by cupping half my face along with words and making “mmming” sounds when he enjoyed my reactions.

Continuing the heat of the moment I unleashed my breasts from the bottom side of the bra as he said he wanted me to cum for him.  But I was scared and paranoid after hours at the gym where I work when his head dropped quickly to lick my nipple in wonderful fashion.  I held onto his bald head for a moment and squirmed for the next.

And in the beauty of this kissing session on the bench, in the dark weight room with one office light on in the corner for slight moonlighting I couldn’t finish what I started and than somehow I got up and went to spot him on the same bench.  I continued to watch him work his ass off while whispering to myself how I need to be on his elite training level.

We broke night, walked many blocks around the chilly city, stared at architectural designs and eventually enjoyed each other’s company and laughter from the heart at a diner eating breakfast.

But that bench, those kisses and him, felt eternal just like the power of the present.

-Pennington