MY FRIEND STEVE by boybiceps@earthlink.net NOTE: This story is a fictional construct about a young man who was once my best friend. I have used images and descriptions borrowed from other actual events I have witnessed. Some of the previous stories about him under the title of "Steve, were true. This one is another interpolation of what I have observed in other situations and placing Steve in a given situation, knowing his personality and potential response. It was a very nice summer evening as my friend Steve and I hiked into the woods. We had driven into the West Virginia countryside and were literally hours from anything that could be called civilization. Steve had heard that there were some magnificent rocks to climb, and since he had conquered all the sites around our area, here we were. As we cut out of the woods we say the slight indication of a path going upward. After about a fifteen-minute walk, we emerged to see a wall of solid rock going straight up. I could sense Steve's excitement from where I was standing. In a matter of seconds, he was stripped to the waist wearing only a pair of khaki shorts and his climbing boots. I decided to sit this one out. Now don't get me wrong, I like rock climbing with the best of them, but I also was aware that this face was way out of my league. Steve began stretching out his extremely defined body. The first thing I was aware of was the increased definition in his back from the last time I had seen him with his shirt off. Just stretching, I could see deep cuts and striations. Steve walked over and began to determine how his ascent was to begin. Suddenly, he got real excited about something that he saw and he called me over. There in the wall was a wide crack, which if you looked at it correctly, you could tell widened into a cave inside. "Come on, let's find a way in!" Steve shouted. Now, Steve loves spelunking even better than rock climbing. We looked and searched, but could find no other entrance other than the one beyond the crack, and a very large boulder blocked that. I started to get worried as I saw a wild look come into Steve's eyes. Now let me explain, just in case you haven't read any of the previous stories about Steve. "I want to see if I can move it", he exclaimed. Then I said something really stupid. "It's too big, I don't think it could be moved with anything short of a bulldozer." "Oh Yea!, let's see." I knew that was my cue to get out of the way. Now let me explain. Steve has this fetish with strength. He was constantly looking for way to test himself and did not take kindly to failure or limits (not that he had to contend with them too much any how). At this point Steve is 19 years old, weighs about 155 (on a very good day) and has one of the most impressive builds I have ever seen on anyone. Now don't get me wrong, he is not bulky or massive, just cut to shreds and has definition beyond description. In addition, when he is relaxed, he looks pretty ordinary, but when he gets 'pumped up' he just grows and grows and grows right before your eyes. Steve walked over to the crack and was able to brace himself just inside. His arms were in a awkward position, in really close to the body, but bent up at the elbows. He was able to spread his legs apart about shoulder width, which were pinned into the sides of the rock. He stood there taking in deep breaths and I saw his body begin to swell and pump up, and he hadn't even started pushing yet. His eyes turned dark and he was having difficulty taking in full breaths as the space he was in was so constricting. Suddenly he began to push outwards (like Samson bringing down the temple). I saw the strain begin to show itself in his face and body. Each bicep became as hard and as round as a softball sized rock and the large veins at the side were highly visible. His pecs swelled and strained as the fingers began to show on the slabs of meat called his chest muscles. He pushed and pushed as his body started to turn red all over and veins began to leap out of his chest and shoulders. I could see the arms beginning to shake and quickly they became covered with snakelike veins everywhere. Then he began increasing his power, willing his body to obey. The traps on each side began to swell and seemed to rip right out of the skin. His face became contorted with the effort and I heard a groan escape as the strained and strained. Yet the rock showed not even the smallest sign that it was going to budge. Suddenly he stopped and stepped out. He looked at me and started laughing. "son of a bitch! That suckers heavy!" he shouted. The paced around for a few minutes and then plopped down on the ground next to me. While I knew better that to ask I did anyway."Quitting so soon?". He just looked at me and jumped out and said, "Hell no. think that rock is going to beat these!" and he struck an awesome double bicep pose. "Tell me something", he said and bet over and picked up a rock of sandstone. He tossed it to me and said; "feel this rock and then feel my bicep and tell me which one is harder". I just laughed, but the sudden look on his face told me he was serious!. "Ok" and I squeezed the rock with my fingers, then his bicep. To be honest, other than texture, I really could not tell much of a difference. His bicep was hard and really looked like someone had put the rock under his skin. I jokingly said.." Oh, the rock doesn't stand a chance against a muscle freak like you."; and started to laugh. Unfortunately, he didn't think it was too funny and took the rock and wedged it in the crook of his arm and started to flex his bicep against it. "You think I'm not as strong as this puny rock!" "Well fucker, watch this!" and he started to squeeze by bending his arm harder and harder. His forearms were completely striated and looked like they were about to burst. His face began to turn read and his upper body turned a deep shade of pink as the blood vessels began to strain to supply his bulging muscles with oxygen rich blood. I could see him beginning to grit his teeth and I began to see flakes of dust falling from the rock. "No fuckin rock is going to beat me" he grunted out and with one tremendous effort, crushed the rock into tiny pieces in his pulsing bicep. The as if to finish an unspoken part of the previous sentence, he started back to the crack in the rock and added under his breath; "no matter how big or heavy it thinks it is". In a second he had wedged himself even tighter into the crack and started to press outwards like a mad man. Every muscle in his entire body leaped into gross definition. His biceps took on the appearance of not stone, but forged steel. Cables of tendons, muscles and veins pulsed out of his entire body and he threw everything into it. I saw his quads become huge slabs of meat totally crisscrossed with networks of veins. He was breathing in huge gasps now and swearing under his breath, which soon became a growl or rage. You could actually see him increasing his pressure on the rock as every mind-blowing minute became more and more intense. His head began to pull back and his eyes became rolled back in his head as his entire body began to shake all over. The coloration of his skin quickly changed from a deep red color to one with slight hints of purple, and still he poured on the pressure. His Hulk-like rage kept increasing and I knew that we were either going to move a rock, or I was going to lose a friend this day. The amazingly, I heard a grinding sound deep within the rocky hillside. Steve was pressing so hard now that I could feel the energy of his muscles radiated into the air and off of my face. Steve's growl became a primal roar as I saw his muscles totally start to convulse. Suddenly, the scraping sound became louder as Steve turned his body and twisted in spasm trying to get more leverage. Suddenly, without relenting even a little, his mouth began spewing vomit in convulsing surges as his color deepened again to a deep purple color. His chest, arms and shoulders looked like they were ready to rupture under some extreme pressure, and still his iron determination kept pouring on the power. The very rocks he was pushing against soon picked up the shaking of his body, and then I saw it begin to move, if only a small amount. I was blown away.. That boulder had to weigh tons and here was Steve's pure muscle power starting to beat it. Once again I saw Steve twist his body now wedging his leg into the crack and now with his entire body into the act, the battle was totally joined. His entire body took on a surreal appearance. Every square inch of him was flexed beyond imagination and totally covered with pulsing and moving veins. He looked like he had no neck as the traps on either side became fused with the neck into one huge muscle mass. His eyes were totally sunk into his head and his quads looked like they were two large pistons of pulsating muscle, tendon and vein. He was now sounding much like an machine with huge straining grunts and groans, which I might add, were being repeated in the surrounding rock. Above his head, I was a crack beginning to form as the huge bolder started to tip. Then he suddenly started to laugh hysterically between the grunts and groans as the entire structure of his body seemed to again double in size and texture. Now he looked like he was part of the mountain sided.. Some grotesque character of a man carved out of a mountain. With one gigantic wheeze and roar, he pushed with every ounce of strength he had left (and some he didn't) and the rock suddenly ripped out of the ground and crashed on its' side. "Steve was immediately jumping and started screaming;"Yea, sucker, Yea, looks who's stronger now. You fuck, You thought you could beat this.. and Steve flexed into a spectacular most muscular pose, with every fiber of his being pulsing and radiating adrenaline feed exuberance. We went into the cave, which was only just big enough for the two of us and went nowhere. Yet to Steve, it represented the day he beat the mountain, and the cave was his trophy for the ages, freed by muscles that were harder that the stone of the mountain. Later that afternoon, he conquered the mountain completely as the climbed to the summit with nothing more that the will of his mind and the unrelenting strength of his muscles. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Failed tests, classes skipped, forgotten locker combinations. Remember the good 'ol days http://click.egroups.com/1/4053/8/_/834226/_/958966277/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ To unsubscribe to this list simply send a blank email to MuscleGrowthStories- unsubscribe@egroups.com