It's never too late to be happy.

[Herkules]

The story is 95% true. I don't speak English well, so I used "Google Translate" in some cases. I will try to follow the story with appropriate photos. If you think this story doesn't make sense because of such a translation or content, write. Thank you for your patience in reading the text.

September, year 001

I am 40 years old, I have been in a relationship for 10 years, married to Adele (who is 38) for eight years. We have a five-year-old daughter Dora, we live in a family house on the first floor, while Adele's parents live below us, who occasionally look after Dora, and Adele's mother often cooks lunch. I am an architect employed in an architectural office, while Adele was often away from home for work. We had no financial problems, we had our own 100 square meter apartment, we drove two cars. At first glance, everything was ideal. Her absences sometimes lasted several days, she often went away for nights, and it was generally very difficult to keep up with her rhythm. When she wasn't home, I mostly looked after Dora, very rarely her father and mother, and even less often my parents who lived in another part of town. Her absences didn't bother me, I was used to them. She mostly worked that job when we were in a relationship and got married, so I accepted that lifestyle, which had suited me much less since Dora was born.

But in recent months, sometime since spring, something seemed to have changed. Adele's absences weren't just business-related. She was going to yoga classes more and more often. Meetings with friends were becoming more frequent, going to the cinema, coffies which I wasn't invited. It's not that I didn't suspect, but throughout the months I tried to suppress the idea that it was something more serious. We hadn't had sex for months, but I attributed everything to her crisis, to the sudden mood swings that had been common over the past ten years (though they never lasted that long).

"Where are you going?" I asked her, seeing that she was getting ready somewhere "To yoga," she answered briefly and rather angrily, as if I had asked anything at all. "When are you coming home?" "What's that to you?" she was still in her usual mood. "Okay," I replied, just long enough to try to establish some communication that would be expected of a husband and wife. "Dora is upstairs at my place for dinner, so now you can turn on the internet and jerk off and mastrubate to female bodybuilders" I hung my head. There were reasons for such objections. I occasionally looked at pictures of muscular girls on various internet sites. Two months ago, Adele caught me in one of these sessions.

I didn't have the strength to look up as she angrily, without saying goodbye, stormed out. She was slim, 5'9"/176 cm tall and 62 kg, very well-built and pretty. But she often behaved in the way I described and it turned me off, especially when it came to sex. I tried to calm down, but I couldn't. I turned on the computer and the internet. But instead of the daily news, and even pictures of bodybuilders, something else came to mind. I came to her Facebook profile (I've never had a profile on Facebook, Insta****, TikTok, or any social network). I was some kind of engineer and with the help of hacking tricks, I managed to break into her profile and log in after 20 minutes. But maybe it was bad decision. Through the messages, I saw that my wife had been cheating on me with (I guess her) yoga teacher for at least six months. And that they had "come to an end" several times during that period. At that moment, my whole life fell apart. Everything I had built in eight years of marriage was gone. Dora came, I quickly put her to sleep, while Adela didn't come for a long time. What had been a frequent occurrence over the past few months, and now it was clear to me why. I had fallen asleep waiting for her. Now there was no question of that. Half an hour before midnight she came home and without saying goodbye entered the bathroom with the intention of taking a shower. After she was done, I gathered my courage

"Where have you been?" I tried to be calm and polite. "What's that to you?" "Adele, please look at me?" I started to catch her eye... "Yes Denis, tell me?" she asked from a height, superior. "Please tell me who Damjan Bauer is" I was direct because I couldn't be more direct She looked at me silently for maybe half a minute, then went to the bathroom and started crying. I hoped that maybe she had repented of what she had done and that after she left we would be able to talk normally. However, I was wrong. 15 minutes passed; after a few conversations on the cell phone in bathroom, she came out and said more firmly than ever: "Our marriage is over, you have "10 days to move out of the apartment"

I didn't believe what she was saying. Through sobs, I mentioned to Dora. How she imagined Dora growing up without a father. Adele, however, coldly replied: "She will have a father. Dora will come to you occasionally" and went towards the bedroom. In that state, I was no longer quite myself. I took her by the shoulders and dragged her towards the armchair in the living room. "You won't treat me like this, next time I'll call the police." she said and went back to the bedroom. I stayed in the living room, not closing my eyes all night. The next day Damjan called me and threatened me, saying that he had trained in aikido and judo and that he would try those martial arts on me if I was as violent towards Adela as I was last night. I stayed in the apartment for ten days, hoping that Adela would come to her senses, I talked to her parents, but in vain. The atmosphere was unbearable, the worst for five-year-old Dora. There were tenants in my two-room apartment. We agreed on a two-week deadline for them to leave the apartment, and during that time I would temporarily stay with my parents, 500 meters away.

I was severely depressed. The worst thing was that Dora felt it very well. I was reluctantly giving up my job, so they even threatened to fire me. I was facing a divorce, going on welfare. A month later I received a divorce petition and a summons to interview with the police. Adele reported me anyway. I had to change something. A little before Christmas, on my way home from work, I saw a gym. I had trained in swimming throughout elementary and high school. During college and a few years after that, I used to go jogging in a nearby park. But after I got married, I completely neglected myself. At 6'4"/193 cm, I maintained a reasonable 200 lbs. However, after Adele filed for divorce, I started "relieving" the stress with food, and my stomach grew. I weighed about 99 kg. After looking at the gym and talking to the staff, I decided to start training after the New Year.

To be continued

[Herkules]

⚡ Support Saradas

Keep the archive alive with Bitcoin

1QDxcxUx8pnsZvauyVxTqaJrWkeNhQrPdK

Donate →

[Herkules]

You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login

My pic was taken 5 months before first part of story was happened. I am 193 cm and 87 kgs on that photo

[Herkules]

January, year 002, Part 2

And with the arrival of the New Year, I signed up for the gym. Before signing up, I noticed my friend from swimming at the entrance. After we greeted each other warmly, I realized that he works here as a personal trainer. "Can you show me to start with, I haven't worked out in years?" I asked him. "Now I have my own personal training. Every weekday between 10 and 4 PM, there is a trainer in the gym who is in charge of showing exercises to beginners," he replied and turned to his side.

I had no choice but to try it myself, absorbing or asking for help from the trainers on site. I got to the lat machine, but at that moment my gaze fell on the bench. Or rather, the one who was working on it... A woman with long blond hair and beautiful, regular features had just finished a set. I felt a slight excitement and headed towards the bench to see what weight she was working with. The two large plates on each side looked impressive, and when I got there, I saw that each one weighed 20 kg/45 lbs. I went back to the other end of the gym and asked a member how heavy the bars were. "These Olympic 20 kg ones," I got the immediate answer.

"Wooow 60 kilos on the bench, really impressive for a girl. A minute passed, and my attention was not focused on my workout, but only on 'my blonde beauty' on the bench press, who was about to do the next set. One, two... seven, eight (I counted to myself, watching her and hoping that no one was watching me). She somehow pulled out the eighth repetition. She was breathing hard and loudly, and I said to myself: 'Let's pull out this ninth, you can do it'. She lowered the bar to her chest, but she couldn't do it anymore. Instinctively, I ran over and helped her. She stood up, smiled and said: 'Thank you'. 'If you need help, just call'. And she called for the next set. She did six repetitions, and I helped her with the seventh, praying that my dick wouldn't start to get hard. However, a few seconds later, she took off her loose long-sleeved T-shirt, and was left only in her tank top. Her broad shoulders, the notch between her pectorals, her large upper arms, on which the veins stood out slightly, stood out. The veins were also prominent on her forearms (I remembered that as a little boy someone told me 'the one with veins on his forearms is strong'), and the most impressive were her abs. I quickly ran to the toilet and there I held myself between my legs. I came out after a few minutes when I was sure that my dick had gone down. The blonde beauty, by my estimation a little older than me, about 5'8"/173 cm tall and weighing about 66, maybe 67 kilograms/150 lbs of muscle, was doing the next exercise: dumbbell presses on an incline bench. Arrogantly, without asking, I stood behind her (I admired my courage) to help her. But after a few moments I backed away. Not only did I see that the dumbbells weighed 22.5 kg each (impressed me), but that in case of a forced repetition I would have to help her by placing my fingers under her elbows. She did the repetitions loudly, sighing heavily as sweat dripped from her tank top over her strong and chiseled abs. Her arms and shoulders were tensing, and the veins on her upper arms became even more noticeable. I prayed that my dick would stay in place and tried not to think about the only thing I could think at that moment: 'How strong she is, how good she looks'. After she put the dumbbells down on the floor and caught her breath, she suddenly asked me:

"What are you doing or are you just trying to help me?" "It's my first day at the gym, so I'm still trying to find my way around," I stammered, but she understood everything. "Tania" introduced herself, extending her hand. "Denis," I took the offered hand. "So Denis, come tomorrow at five in the morning, and we'll go through all the exercises as an introduction," she offered to help. "And how much will that cost me?" I was taken aback so I asked a stupid question "It doesn't matter, we'll make an arrangement" "Isn't that a bit early" I continued talking nonsense. "I have my training later, so I have to be at work at eight" she was confident, knowing that such an offer could not be refused. Anyway, tomorrow at five in the morning I showed up at the gym. At first glance, she seemed prettier than yesterday. However, there was another reason why she wanted to start so early. She invited me to the group training room, and with her cell phone in her hand she resolutely said "We'll train for three months under my regimen, and after that period we'll see progress. Take off your shirt" her command caught me open-mouthed. "But Tania" I wasn't quite ready.

"Take off your clothes, we don't have much time." I was even more embarrassed when she grabbed my belly fat, making me feel terrible about my body. She took pictures of me from all four sides in a relaxed position and a double bicep pose (if you could even call it that) from the front and back. After weighing in (it showed 99.2 kg), we quickly started training. The first exercise was the bench press. After a few warm-up sets, I placed two large 20 kg plates on each side. Tania just smiled with her beautiful face. I did one, then with great difficulty the second repetition. Tania then said: "Let's try another one." I lowered it, but I couldn't do it. She leaned her hands on the bar and asked loudly:

"What are we going to do now, dude?" I sighed, begging her to help me, which she did after a few seconds, and again loudly in a commanding tone: "So, first rule, leave your ego outside the gym. Yesterday you saw me lifting that weight and now you wanted to impress me. It doesn't work that way, get it out of your head. I've been working out for 11 years and during that time I've developed the ability to perform a hard workout. You're still far from that."

After that, I was like an obedient puppy. After the workout, we agreed to meet tomorrow at the same time. On the way out, I met an acquaintance from swimming and asked him some details about Tanja. He told me, among other things, that she was divorced and that, as far as he knew, she didn't have a boyfriend at the moment.

I was confused all day thinking about Tanja and our appointment tomorrow. On the other hand, there was still a glimmer of hope in me that Adela would come to her senses and that we might reconcile. In the evening, I opened the internet; since I don't have an Insta**** profile, I had to open the "Insta**** without account" page. I typed in Tanja's first and last name to look at her profile, except this time I didn't have to think about controlling my dick.

Right when I opened her insta**** page, it was already hard as a stick. Wooow, 60 thousand followers. 60 thousand people are impressed by her beauty, her powerful muscular build body... She's 50 years old, heeeey. She's 10 years older than me, and she looks so good. She works as a doctor. How good she looked in her white coat, beneath which you could see her knees and muscular calves. I couldn't believe how strong she is. 105 kg on her muscular back looked light as a feather as she performed 5 deep squats. She did a deadlift with 130 kg for three reps, while she did a bicep curl with 15 kg dumbbells for eight correct reps. It's no wonder her big upper arms are showing veins.

There were a couple of pictures from the seaside where she does a handstand and then a handwalk. In one clip, she grabbed a branch and did 11 pull-ups, and in one park, 17 dips with her own weight. I couldn't stop admiring her, impatiently waiting for tomorrow at five in the morning. And yes, it was over very quickly, the sperm quickly gushed out of his swollen penis. Tania, Tania, I cant stop thinking about her.

[Herkules]

After a cold winter, spring finally arrived. After a rainy morning, the sun rose over the green city, birds were singing, streams were babbling. The thermometer had not exceeded 14 degrees until today, and at this moment it was showing a high of 22 degrees. It was 2 pm, I had finished my work day at the clinic, but I couldn't go home, so I was a little nervous. I took off my white coat and, given the very warm day, put on black tight shorts and a white top that emphasized my muscular figure. In the morning, I weighed 70 kg for the first time on the scale (which I was proud of, but still a little worried) for my height of 174 cm. So I looked in the mirror and felt satisfied: my body was strong, compact, my shoulders were pronounced with muscle lines. After work, I arranged a coffee with nurse Gianna from my clinic. We had been working together for seven years and, despite the fact that I could have been her mother by age, I felt like her best friend. I walked from my room into her room, where there were no patients, and she greeted me with a loud exclamation of "Wooooooooow, look at You"... When she started working, Gianna, as a 19-year-old girl, was extremely overweight, prone to depression, and excessive food consumption (primarily baked goods). She wanted so much to find a boyfriend, but she couldn't do it, which only increased her dissatisfaction. She wore baggy sweatpants and thick T-shirts to hide her weight. I invited her to go to the gym with me, and through five years of hard and regular training and proper nutrition, she transformed herself so that she replaced the aforementioned baggy sweatpants and thick T-shirts with tight shorts above the knees and open-necked T-shirts that emphasized her flat stomach and noticeable abdominal muscles. Accordingly, guys started to flock to her, and she found happiness with Jan, a handsome 28-year-old fitness trainer and former basketball player. Jan opened his own small private fitness center for the New Year, so Gianna and I hadn't seen each other at the gym in three months (except for the two times I dropped by to help promote them). Gianna led group functional training classes at Jan's gym. She was a little shorter than me (about 170 cm) and weighed, by my estimate, a well-distributed 62 kg. "Come on, hurry up," I wanted to give the impression that I didn't care about her exclamation and compliment, but inside I was immensely proud. "I have news," I wanted to surprise her as we sat on the terrace of a nearby cafe, soaking up this beautiful sunny day. "Tell me, doctor, I've turned into an ear..." "I've decided to compete in the state championships," I said, but Gianna wasn't surprised. "I wonder why you didn't compete last year. You look so good, you could have done it without a problem." "Competition is something else. It requires preparation, starvation. And then, showing off your body in a bikini in front of such an audience." "Competition and definition, especially the first time, are a test of your mental strength, Jan once said," Gianna encouraged me as if she were twice my age, not the other way around, and continued: "When you can handle it, you'll become stronger." "Yes, I remember you and your mental strength when during the first six months of training you wanted to give up at least five times," I replied. "Yes, I owe you a lot of gratitude for that," she replied, then continued, "But then working out became my new life. I gained control, not only over my body and muscles, but over my emotions and thoughts. Now I feel like I've started a new life. I was hunched over, I had a lot of cellulite, a pronounced belly, my arms were flabby, I had a thick chin. Now I'm full of confidence. Bodybuilding definitely changes the way you think the most." "If you didn't want it, none of this would happen," I replied. "And are you afraid that you'll lose your femininity because of the rigorous diet?" she asked me. "No. Femininity is not your bust size. Femininity is your posture, your strength, your confidence, the way you feel," I wasn't afraid of that, and continued, "And yet, I'm standing on stage, and everyone is looking at me. It means I've done something, that I've earned it." "Of course, everything will be fine. And what category will you compete in?" "We're a small country, so we only have Figure Skating and Bodybuilding. And you know that I've always been hard core, so it's logical that I'm going to Bodybuilding." "Congratulations," Gianna approved of my move. "And this morning I spoke to Gabriela and told her about my plans. She invited me to come to her in Germany, to prepare as best as possible. I was thinking of taking unpaid leave in July, and then a month of vacation in August." "Just so that that jerk doesn't come to replace me like last time." Gianni was glad that I would be able to prepare better for the competition, but she still resented the fact that she would have to work with another doctor for a month. "I hope not. And the question is, will I even get unpaid leave." "You will. Where are you going now, home?" "I hope not. The question is, will I even get unpaid leave?" "So why don't you do your full workout at the gym before work in the morning?" "I did my workout, but Denis couldn't come in the morning because he got a court summons for a divorce." "You mention this Denis to me a lot," Gianna smiled slyly and continued: "I'm surprised because you like bodybuilders, especially the big ones. And he doesn't fit into that scheme at all." "Yes, I love bodybuilders. But I really feel comfortable in Denis's company. The man is funny, witty, well-read. My time with him goes by quickly. Besides, during the three months that I've been training him, he hasn't missed a single workout. He's gotten stronger, he's almost as strong as me in the bench press, he's improved in the squat, the deadlift. We've started doing pull-ups. His shoulders and chest have broadened, his waist has shrunk. Besides, I should take a picture of him today and record his progress, so we'll see where we are." "So there's something to it," Gianna continued to smile, hoping that 11 years after the separation, and five years after I broke up with my boyfriend, I would find the man of my life. We soon parted ways, and I hurried to the 15-minute walk (it's not worth going by car because of the parking) to the HULK GYM, one of the largest in the city, where between 500 and 700 exercisers worked out. When he saw me, as usual he couldn't hide his admiration for my tank top and tight shorts. It was time for a back and biceps workout.

He was pulling the barbell on the lat machine down towards his chest. I saw him squeeze his shoulder blades together, feeling the tension in his lat muscles. "Exhale and slowly come back up," I said sternly, standing next to him. "Don't lower yourself suddenly, Denis. Slowly. Feel your back working. Okay, two more. Breathe!" I shouted during the last fourth set, but it had an effect. Denis sat down, breathing heavily. His muscles were burning, he felt something between heat and strong, but pleasant pain. "That's a sign that his back is growing," I grabbed his latissimus during the next exercise, feeling Denis' back muscles tighten under my skin.

April year 002 After the workout, I was supposed to record Denis's progress with my camera. The gym was full (there was no way Denis was posing in front of others), as was the group training hall, and the locker rooms were out of the question. "Let's go to my house, and then I have to pick up the little one from school," Denis suggested. I cautiously entered Denis's apartment, which I estimated was 35 square meters. A bedroom with a double bed, a living room, a separate kitchen, and a small bathroom with a toilet, was Denis' home after he had to leave the one he lived in with Adele. "It's not really big, but it's there," Denis seemed to apologize for the modesty of his home. "It's great that you have your own apartment. I would give anything to move away from my ex," I reassured him. "You live with your ex?" he wondered how that was possible. "We built a house together. He lives in the basement today, and I live upstairs. That was the court ruling." "And the children?" he asked. "They're a little bit higher, a little bit lower. Except they're not children anymore. The older one is 24, finishing college. The younger one is in his first year of college, he is 21."
"And how long have you been living like that, how long have you been separated?" "11 years. I also started working out in the gym 11 years ago to reduce stress. Before that, I trained in tae kwon do until I was 22, that was my first contact with sports. So, we started going to the gym for similar reasons," I smiled. Seeing my smile, Denis seemed to open up something, and he said in a gentle tone: "I'm tired, Tania, of being weak. I want to be strong like you." I was momentarily taken aback by the compliment, but I replied: "Denis, you're starting to understand how muscles react to stimuli and stress, your weightlifting technique is good. Hard and regular training and quality food, a little patience and you'll soon be strong. Maybe like me," I smiled. After the word "food" I headed to the kitchen, opened the cupboard. "Oh no, what are you eating?" I took a box of wafers and threw them in the trash in front of a stunned Denis. "What is this?" Denis just stammered as I opened the fridge and threw milk spreads, jams and a box of puff pastry and a box of chocolate cookies from it onto the floor. "Food is a tool for muscle growth, no pleasure. Pick it up immediately and throw it in the trash. And that," I handed him a bottle of fruit syrup. "Now let's see where we are after three months?" I took out my phone, intending to take a picture of it. Reluctantly, probably under the impression of my throwing food, he stripped down to his waist. I was pleasantly surprised, because I remembered well how he looked at the beginning of the year. His chest and shoulders looked much better, his posture was better, his back had hollowed out and spread out, and even on his waist (where there was still excess) you could see small shadows, barely noticeable hints of abdominal muscles. He also took off his pants so I could film the progress of his legs and I could see that his dick was well swollen, but I pretended not to see anything except a little progress in his thighs. And what do you think?" he asked me while getting dressed. "It's not bad, but it needs to be a lot better," I wanted to keep him on the ground, even though I was extremely pleasantly surprised and pleased with his progress. Especially considering what I found in the kitchen. "I'm in a hurry. I'm going to pick up the little one from school, I'll drop you off at the health center," he was putting on his shoes. "But don't forget something," I told him, pointing to the trash. "Tomorrow you'll get a detailed diet plan, worked out down to the last detail. If I find out you haven't followed it, we're done with our training." "Of course," he replied. "So, tomorrow at five in the morning at HULK GYM. You don't have to drive me, I'll walk to the health center," I replied as we left. After so many cold days, today I finally had the opportunity to show off the results of my diet and my hard work in the gym in a white tank top and black shorts.

[Herkules]

PART 4 SUMMER YEAR 002

"Come on, Denise, you can do it, this is the last set," Tanja shouted as I groaned and screamed while doing standing bicep curls with a 32.5 kg bar. "Eleven, twelve," she counted to me, helping me perform the last reps. My blood was pumping rapidly through my arms as I headed for the window, wanting to get some air because (if the clock said it was only seven in the morning) the gym was too hot and stuffy. Which is not unusual for the end of June. Tanja, dressed for the occasion in a pink top that emphasized her broad shoulders and still chiseled abs, and black shorts, which revealed her strong legs. "Now to the group training room, then to the airport," Tanja urged me while I was still recovering from the last set. But I slowly began to enjoy the workout with Tanja. Sweat, screams, heavy breathing, muscle pain, it was all part of the process, I thought to myself as I walked into the room. Tanja has been looking at me a little differently lately:

"You don't feel like an outsider anymore, you're not hunched over, you walk more confidently, bravo." I took off my shirt and did a double biceps pose in front of the mirror.

"Bravooooo" Tanja was genuinely delighted. "Your look in the mirror is no longer so critical. Come on, relax."

I relaxed, and Tanja ran her hand over my stomach, which caused an instant erection that I had successfully controlled so far.

"There's still some fat deposits, but it's okay. It's getting better." I turned my back to her.

"Wooow, great. We don't have time to take pictures and measure right now, but when I get back from Germany, we'll continue?" she asked.

"So was that ever a question?" I replied, then took a breath, exhaled, then took another breath and shyly said: "Tanja, can I ask you something?"

"Always" smiled mysteriously, anticipating what was coming.

"Can you do a few poses now?"

Tanja didn't hesitate, and for the next two minutes I stared at the work of art in front of me with my tongue hanging out. How confident she was, unbelievable.

"How much do you weigh?" I asked.

"Yesterday morning on an empty stomach, somewhere around 71."

"How much do you expect to weigh by the time you're due?"

"I'd be happy with 73. Let's go!" she started me up, and after a shower, we were in the car on the way to the airport in 15 minutes.

"You've been gone for two months" sounded more like a statement than a question addressed to the passenger seat.

"You've been given a training and nutrition plan, stick to it. But the question is how long you'll be able to keep it up while you're at sea with your little one. How much are you going to?"

"Sixteen days in early August. We'll see how much I can train. It'll be hard to find a gym, and even if I do, I won't be able to exercise because Dora will be by my side all the time."

"Yes, but your daughter has to come first. How was yesterday?"

"You mean in court?"

"Yes. I saw that you came in this morning quite depressed"

Denis didn't really want to talk about his ex, especially not in this kind of company, so for the record he replied: "Finally, that's over, we're legally divorced. Dora is with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and every other weekend and half the holidays. At least, considering Adela's job, there will be more of that," he said somewhat sadly, from which Tanja realized that Denis hadn't said goodbye to his ex in his mind yet.

"It's nice when she's little with me, at least the apartment doesn't look deserted. At least I have the pleasure of putting her to sleep. At least it's the hardest for me when I give her back to Adela," Denis continued to talk sadly, so Tanja changed the subject.

"When I get back, do you know what awaits you?"

"Well, we'll continue training," I replied.

"I doubt that, considering the heat, going to the seaside and my absence, you'll make any progress," she said provocatively, "but now you're 'my' patient. You have a medical check-up scheduled for early September, don't forget. And of course, we'll continue training right away. As I told you, we'll start training together. I expect you to be my support for the competition."

"When is the competition?"

"December 20th. I'll be on the mat until November 1st, and then the definition."

"I'm here, and I've put the date of my check-up in my calendar. I'll even regret signing up as your patient."

"Why?" her pretty face expressed a questioning attitude.

"Well, I hear you're strict, that you've made many of your patients look for other family medicine doctors."

"I have a lot of patients anyway," she answered readily and continued: "But I think the main thing is prevention. Healthy eating, proper and regular exercise, and walking in old age. At least, in my opinion, older people could go to the gym too. Medicine won't help you if you eat junk, smoke, drink alcohol, do drugs, sit on your cell phone or lie in front of the TV."

I was amazed by her attitude and the way she cared for her patients, which I experienced firsthand in the last six months. About 35 to 40 of them were working out at HULK Gym on her recommendation. We soon arrived at the airport, luckily on time. I had grown to love Tanja over the past six months, but I didn't dare to do anything more concrete. It wouldn't have been fair to her, because it was clear from my tone that I still had feelings for Adela. Tanja is certainly the most attractive woman in the gym; guys, even the biggest and strongest ones, were constantly chasing her, and she was still alone. Entering the world of bodybuilding, I began to understand why. It was hard to talk about anything other than food, training, steroids, diets with bodybuilders. Tanja and I had a much wider range of topics: art, music, politics, sports, fashion... We were close in private during the entire training; jokes, humor, turns, discussions, arguments, monologues, philosophizing, quotes set the tone for our socializing and training. I didn't want to force anything, after all, when she comes back, we'll see what happens. It's up to me to try to progress as much as possible in terms of mass and strength without her, and the rest will be as it comes.

The whole of July was about work, house, training, Dora, sleeping. Despite the heat, I trained like crazy. I was extremely motivated, training my muscles with such intensity that they were practically forced to grow. I ate huge amounts of food, which sometimes came out of my nose, and sometimes I forced myself because despite a full stomach I had to eat more and more.

The first day of August, when Dora and I were supposed to go to the seaside, was the first day after Tanja left for Germany that I missed training. Dora was still sleeping, so I took the opportunity to step on the scale before my first meal of the day and shivered slightly. It showed 106.2 kg, which was 2.5 kilos more than three weeks ago when I last weighed myself. Instinctively, I headed for the mirror, stripped down to my underwear and looked full of confidence. That fear was gone; long gone were the days when I shaved in a T-shirt because I was afraid to look at my body in the mirror. Now it was something completely different, I thought, squeezing my biceps. My stomach had almost disappeared, my shoulders had rounded out and become larger, my chest was starting to get that nice shape, my arms had grown, and my legs were finally starting to progress. My body had definitely changed, and I no longer just wanted to be slim like I did at the beginning of the year. Now I want to be strong. The numbers in the gym also said that I was heading in the right direction. I benched 80 kg for five reps, squatted with 100 kg for 10 to 12 deep reps, and once managed to deadlift 140 kg, although I injured my lower back for the next seven days, so I did this exercise with a higher number of reps in the future. But problems arose. The T-shirts I wore became too small for me in the meantime, the sleeves narrowed, so I only wore two to the seaside. The first day of August, when Dora and I were supposed to go to the seaside, was the first day since Tanja left for Germany that I missed a workout. Dora was still sleeping, so I took the opportunity and, before the first meal of the day, stood on the scales and shivered slightly. She showed 106.2 kg, which was 2.5 kilos more than three weeks ago when I last weighed myself. Instinctively, I went to the mirror, stripped down to my underwear and looked full of confidence. That fear was gone, long gone were the days when I shaved in my T-shirt because I was afraid to look at my body in the mirror. Now it was something completely different, I thought, squeezing my biceps. My stomach had almost disappeared, my shoulders had rounded out and become larger, my chest was starting to take on that nice shape, my arms had grown, and my legs were finally starting to progress. My body had definitely changed, and I no longer just wanted to be slim like I did at the beginning of the year. Now I want to be strong. The numbers in the gym also said that I was heading in the right direction. In the bench press, I lifted 80 kg for five repetitions, I did the squat with 100 kg between 10 and 12 deep repetitions, and I managed to lift 140 kg in the deadlift once, with the fact that during that lifting I injured the lower part of the back for the next seven days, so in the future I performed that exercise with a higher number of repetitions. But there were problems. In the meantime, the T-shirts I was wearing became too small for me, the sleeves got a little narrower, so I only wore two to the sea. Tanja only responded twice, and I often jerked off to her Insta**** profile (where she hadn't posted any pictures from Germany yet), admiring her perfect body.

But now there was supposed to be a 16th day break, since Dora and I had arrived at the seaside. However, I was wrong. The camp was phenomenally organized, so that the children had various social activities organized during the day. In the morning they lasted from 9 to 12, and in the afternoon from 5PM to 7PM when it was dinner time. As part of the camp, under a thatched roof there was a gym, small but with all the necessary equipment for basic movements and exercises. When Dora was not with me, I thought about nothing else but getting bigger, more muscular and stronger. I trained the first morning, but when Dora left for the afternoon activities, I felt that I had enough strength for the second training session of the day. And so I did a total of 32 training sessions over all 16 days. People passing by would tell me: "Well, you see it's hot, calm down, take a break." I laughed and worked even harder. The first day I worked out in a short-sleeved T-shirt, which I took off after a while. I was no longer ashamed of my body. Now I enjoyed looking at it, enjoyed seeing it contract during the exercises, watched on the spot how I was getting stronger and progressing. The two T-shirts I brought from home (because I didn't have any more) turned out to be quite enough, because I mostly walked around naked without being ashamed, as I wrote more of my body. We had three meals a day, but luckily we could eat unlimited amounts. So everything turned out very well. Adela called every day asking about our daughter, who was at the activities when she was supposed to draw her mother and father, she drew her mother practicing alder and her father lifting weights. We returned home, and I counted the days waiting to see Tanja, to show her progress, but also to see her after her German adventure. The scales showed 107 kg after returning from the sea, so despite the heat I managed to gain a kilo, which I was very proud of. Ten more days and Tanja will be back. I can't wait to show her my progress.

To be continiued

[schokie88]

I like your Story, Herkules. But how will it go on with Tanja?