Saturday, 18 November 2017

Glootasm of the Week

Not exactly retro, but not exactly current either, I guess doing last week's NABBA Universe report got me pining for glutes that were slightly more front and centre, slightly thicker, and a lot more shredded than the Class of 2017 had to offer...

And Kay Goodwin's amazing routine from last year came to mind.

Kay starts her glorious routine with her beautiful bum confronting the judges and the audience, and by my reckoning spends a staggering 46% of the time she's on stage showing off her best feature. The front facing sections of her performance are mere transitions to the next time she puts her glutes in everyone's faces, and she finishes off (and more often than not finishes me off) with the only "glute bow" I've ever seen.

It's a clip I'd have worn out if it had been on one of my treasured old VHS cassettes. I've used it to warm up at the beginning of a session, to stay strong in the middle of one, and to provide release time and time again in the last year, and this week alone it has accounted for upwards of 20 (I stopped counting on Thursday) great big messes.

Enjoy!


Friday, 17 November 2017

The (Mis)Adventures of C. Moore Glootz II

Catch up with Part I here.

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Not the object of my teenage affections - she was way better-looking!

School did not end well for C. Moore. In retrospect, my attempts to win the heart of the only female P.E. teacher under 40 were, though heartfelt, rather misguided. I was asked to leave before taking my A-levels, and, somewhat understandably, there wasn't much enthusiasm among local schools to welcome C. Moore into their communities.

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At home my bedroom was adorned with pictures of muscular goddesses carefully cut out of muscle magazines (I always bought two copies of everything - one to destroy and one for the files), so you can probably imagine what my own family thought of me.

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I sweated out that summer working all hours in a dry cleaning shop, saving almost every penny - I even stopped buying magazines, although I did steal a few. It was time for C. Moore to follow his passion. And so, on an unseasonally chilly September morning, with my father, mother and sister dutifully (but cheerily) waving me goodbye, I boarded my flight to the Land of Female Muscle. Destination - New York.

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Central Park - but not in my experience

I'd like to say the States were everything I'd hoped they would be, but sadly my act - illegal (after my tourist visa had run out), unskilled, secondary school dropout with questionable social skills and probably too many questions about where the local gyms were - didn't play very well in New York, and nor did it play well in California, Hawaii (though I swear I saw Marjo Selin drive by while I was there) and Phoenix, Arizona.

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But down in Florida, which was my last hope - I hitched there from Arizona, sleeping on gas station roofs when the weather allowed, bus stations when it didn't - I finally found some work with accommodation thrown in, and C. Moore became the handyman at a small resort complex just outside Tampa. I didn't see any female muscle there, but at least I wasn't destitute anymore, and the season was pretty much neverending.

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I stayed - for two years. I got good at fixing pretty much anything, and even developed some social skills. I went running along the beach (never saw a single muscular bum, not one), but I got a great tan. I experienced my first hurricane. And my second. I lost my virginity, but not, as I imagined I would, to a female bodybuilder who I'd marry.

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Tera Guzman, a good few years later

And I went to my first Bodybuilding show. The 1998 NPC Florida Championships. Kerri Crotty won the Overall, though Tera Guzman and Christine Wan are probably the most familiar names from the eleven who I saw compete that day.

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Christine Wan, not in her 1998 Bodybuilding shape

To say that this was the excitement and experience I had crossed the pond and suffered so much hardship for would be a little wide of the mark. Looking back now I wonder at my naivety - I really did think I would be able to just saunter into the pump room, and I really did think once I was there that it would be OK to just feel up some prime female beef. I honestly thought they would be grateful to meet a true fan.

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My last few nights in the US were spent in a hospital with a cop sitting next to my bed. As soon as I was discharged, I was deported. C. Moore was driven to the airport at the expense of the county taxpayers, and a big black X was stamped into my passport to ensure I would never return to American soil. I've never tried. But as soon as the plane landed me back in Blighty I set about planning the next contest I would attend.

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For a brief - a very brief - moment (and as totally wrong and inappropriate as my behaviour was) (how's that?) [fine - legal dept.] I had laid my hands upon a muscular female body. Everything that happened next - the shouting, the bleeding, the pain, the handcuffs, the mugshot, the hospital food, the piss-taking cops - had been worth it.

Thursday, 16 November 2017

Natalia Brings Us Together

We female muscle heads are a much more disparate bunch than we are usually given credit for, but there are moments when we (more or less) er, come together.

That's what Swell says anyway. Needed a bit of help with this post, and thankfully the main man's vacation has taken him away, but not out of mobile range, and C. Moore has found that as well as having the FMS minions at my disposal, I also have a phone that I don't have to pay the bill for. They might regret that. Ol' Swell had a fair fair few opinions and views on the subject of today's post, and C. Moore is not a fast typist.

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Apparently, we're already into the 2018 Olympia qualification series, and San Diego's Ultimate Warriors Pro (Women's Physique only) is (one of?) the first contests of said series. Hold up, C. Moore! I hear you cry. Surely you've made a mistake. "Women's Physique only", but that's Natalia Coelho above, and she competes in Figure.

Indeed she did.

DID.

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Her last (probably) show in Figure was the Olympia - according to Swell, that is, the minions being far too busy tracking down perfectly striated glutes in the highest possible definition to check these things right now. Swell says she didn't place, which seems to C. Moore to be a bit unlikely given the evidence before my eyes (and my joy trumpet, which is damn near singing already). Anyway, guess she had enough after that and decided to flex for her supper in Physique. What an entrance she's made!

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Natalia @Figure Olympia 2017

So it's one Physique show, one win. And it's not like she beat nobody (Swell says). There were 20 women in all, including 2017 Physique Olympians Melissa Pearo and Margita Zamolova, plus Antoinette Downie who was an Olympian in 2016. Also in the line-up and making their pro debuts were Russian sensation Valentina Mishina and Brazil's 2017 Arnold Amateur Physique winner Priscila Cavilha.

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The Competition - top: Downie (2nd), Pearo (5th); bottom: Mishina (4th), Cavilha (3rd)

Natalia was several cuts above them all - again, I'm paraphrasing. Her conditioning was as jaw-dropping as it had been in Las Vegas, but here it counted for, not against, her.

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Natalia @Ultimate Warriors Pro 2017

It was a "moment", Swell says, returning to the thoughts we started this post with. Natalia moving up to Physique has caused a fair stir, it seems, a stir Swell thinks is much like Dani Reardon in St,Louis, or Shannon Courtney at the NPC USAs, or Alina's first Olympia, or Sarah Hayes that time in Tampa... He went on, and he went back, but C. Moore couldn't keep up. He'd started babbling, and rather than run up the phone bill (editorial, take note of C. Moore's economising) I made out he was breaking up and cut him off. I'd got the gist - many many joy trumpets sounding out more or less simultaneously as the contest photos go up. For a day or two at any given moment there is a Natalia tribute happening somewhere in the world. For a day or two we (maybe not all of us, but the vast majority) are all looking at the same body.

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All coming [sic - ed.] together.

Wednesday, 15 November 2017

Fan-tasy: At Her Service

"GymSlave" (no relation!) is the second of our fantasists to share his deepest desire.

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Art by Drew Jones

I think I saw the images maybe ten or more years ago, on Awefilms.

I'm not the biggest fan of female muscle "art" in general, but these really got me. It wasn't so much the drawing itself, but the artist's expression of a fantasy that until then I didn't know I had. I too wanted to be a sex slave to a dominant muscle babe in the gym. Serving her (or perhaps "servicing" is a better word!) as she pumps iron.

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I grew up in the so-called "Magazine Years", so the vast majority of images I saw and jerked off to then were those pictorials of FBBs working out. I guess a shrink might say that my brain connected gyms with sex or something, and I freely admit that ever since I joined a gym (at 16), I have found them sexually arousing places to be.

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The sound of plates against plates, of weights being dropped, the smell of sweat on the benches, the grunts, and best of all the sight of women lifting or casually checking their bodies out in the mirror all combine to make the time I spend there very erotic time indeed. Just being on my way to the gym can give me a raging hard-on.

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I'm not the most or the least well-endowed, others will have to find their own comfort zone, but experience has taught me the tightest pair of undershorts I can get into is my best bet for keeping it in check. Doubling up adds security and self-confidence and, touch wood, so far my throbbing stiffies have never been noticed (or at least never called out) by fellow gymgoers - and I am constantly hard when I'm at the gym.

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I don't kid myself that my fantasy will ever come true, but I get a special thrill watching those SheMuscle clips filmed in that kind of "dungeon gym" with all the old equipment. I imagine myself there with a tanned, naked Lisa Cross (who I also imagine would be totally up for letting me service her as her muscles - and big juicy FBB clit - swell) or Brandi Mae Akers or Lindsay Mulinazzi (again, both totally up for it I imagine). Only the naughtiest types with the most insatiable sex drives.

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My absolute go-to clip is Tazzie Colomb, huge and sweaty and although she begins with a little top on, it doesn't last long. That gorgeous deep and sexy Southern accent, and lots of arrogant flexing to camera and for herself in the mirror. Towards the end of the clip she bench presses some serious weight for 20 reps (as I recall), topless, her pumping pecs glistening with sweat and swelling bigger and bigger. That would be the ultimate - to be there, hard and ready to do her bidding, to get my face between her legs and lap away, to be muscle f***ed unconscious as she rises from the bench totally fired up, dripping wet and ready to destroy the first hard cock she sees...

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And that just happens to be mine!

Thanks to "GymSlave" for sharing. There'll be another Fan-tasy next week.

Tuesday, 14 November 2017

Muscle Bum Lovers Beware!

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"Do what you love, and you'll never work a day in your life," is what they say (or something similar). Well, C, Moore found out what he loved early on in his life.

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There are - and this became apparent to me only slowly, for C. Moore has never been one for paying too much attention to what "society" deems to be an OK thing to do - issues with the full-time enjoyment of muscular women's backsides. Believe.

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If I had a penny for every time someone has tut-tutted at what they have seen me looking at on the bus when they should have been minding their own business, well, I would have more than a few pennies. Might even have a pound. Once upon a time they were unimpressed with my choice of magazine - and I'm not talking Muscle Elegance here, I'm talking about WPW - bet they wouldn't have had a problem with FHM though. These days it's the phone. The craning necks and shock horror are just the same.

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The content has barely changed either!

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So I can only surmise that they really mean is "Do what you love, and you'll never work a day in your life unless what you love is frowned upon as a full-time activity, especially if pursued in a public place." In that case, "I'm just doing what I love doing," is, apparently, not much of a defence. Not in my personal experience, anyway.

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"Follow your dream," they say, all encouraging and stuff. Or perhaps they say, "Follow your passion." Same caveats apply. You'd better make damn sure you have a passion that's acceptable. I am, I know, an extreme case, but my passion has landed me in some pretty sticky situations over the years, and has even landed me in jail.

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The (Mis)Adventures of C. Moore Glootz continue this Friday...