Joe Machi Weight Loss Novels & Stories

It was always stronger, holding me upright through all the grueling exercises and rehearsals. Dancing again still seems like a dream. I consider that as I climb onto the machine and turn it on. I program my height and weight, then set it to a weight-loss program. It climbs in resistance quickly. Within five minutes, I’m drenched in sweat. I tear off my sweatshirt and drape it across the machine beside me. My t-shirt sticks to my skin and my lungs sear with how little exertion I’ve put them through in so long. I’m ready to quit immediately, but I don’t. I keep pushing until my thighs tremble and I’m heaving so hard I might puke.

"Get up!" My trainer hissed at me. My back hurt like hell... He's the only one that hasn't left. I'm the best, but I do physically have a disadvantage. I'm a girl, guys have more muscle mass than girls. Joe looks like the hulk. 6'6 with ripped muscles... He has his own personal gym. He shaved off all of his hair because he claims its "shininess distracts the enemy" considering he's a werewolf he has to use Nare. Though he claims the shininess distracts the enemy, I believe it distracts him more.

"They're the weights I was talking about. I've been running with those ones for the past year. I'm about to move onto the next mass. I usually go up in fives or tens, it depends what I feel like doing. You can have those ones since I don't need them anymore." "How do you pay for them? They can't be that cheap." I gave him a look at his stupid question. "Never mind, you have two jobs, one of which is well paid considering your popularity." Joe scoffed. "Reckon it'll take me a while to get used to these. Could you show me what you do?" "Sure." I nodded. I strapped the weights to my ankles, wrists, shoulders and waist. "Let's run a few laps to get you warmed up after lunch."

“Will you look at that, I just broke my old high score.” Jay puts more coins in the machine. The bag lowers and I stand in front of it. I look at his score. There’s no way I’m beating that, the math just isn’t there. He’s a big guy, no matter how trained I might be I’ll never throw a hit harder than a guy, the muscle mass just isn’t in my favor. “Can I kick it?” “I guess that’s fair, what are you like, 160 pounds?” “Something like that.”

She gently protested as her expression stiffened, "Get off the bed. I never agreed to you staying over." "After working tirelessly for you all night, aren’t you going to offer any form of compensation?" Joseph's broad hand firmly wrapped around her slender waist, pausing momentarily. "Hmm, you seem to have gained a bit of weight." There appeared to be a slight increase in the size of Chloe's tummy. In the dim light, a hint of panic flickered across her face as she gently pushed away the hand on her waist. "You're the one who gained weight." "I exercise every day and never put on weight. If you don't believe me, feel for yourself." Joseph grasped her hand and guided it to his abdominal muscle

“Yeah. In high school, I was well over two-hundred-and-fifty pounds. No reason, really, except that I used food as an emotional release and outlet, and it took me a long time to find healthy ways to handle stress. Now I have my sculpting, and yoga, and swimming. When I turned twenty or so, I lost the weight and I keep it off, but it takes effort. And I still don’t like my body very much.” Joe remembered her lying in his bed, naked and flushed, her breasts rising and falling as she came. He’d adored her curvy thighs, her generous ass. She had just been so damn responsive to him, she had given him so much pleasure, and it hurt him that she didn’t like her own amazing body.

The sound lands heavier than it should. Only then do I turn. Jose reaches for the bottle without asking. He pours a generous measure of whiskey into a glass and slides it across the counter. “You look like you need this,” he says. I take the glass, feel the weight of it, the smell sharp and grounding. I don’t drink. “Go on,” I say. “Spill.” Jose exhales through his nose. “The shot at the club? That wasn’t the play.” I don’t blink. “That was noise,” he continues. “A way to see how you’d move. Who you’d shield. Who mattered.”

The day summer break started after my third year of college, Mom and Dad drove over in their SUV to pick us up. My older sister, Janet Gould, helped carry the luggage. My younger brother, Harvey Gould, clung to Mom and soaked up her attention. When I carried my duffel bag downstairs, they stared at me in shock. None of them recognized me. "Liam, is that you? How did you lose so much weight?" Mom looked me over, her expression hard to read. For a moment, I thought she was worried about me. But then she suddenly frowned. "You're not sick, are you? We don't have health insurance for you." Janet looked at me with disgust. "Did you lose all that weight just to compete with Harvey for attent

I didn’t see Van. I ordered a hamburger and fries, too depressed to eat a salad. If I gained twenty pounds maybe all my man trouble would go away. I almost laughed aloud. They say when you lose weight you lose it in your boobs first. So that means if I gain it there first I’ll need a cane to walk. Joel ordered a French dip sandwich and a hamburger. An older man sat down next to him and began a conversation about this year’s chances for the championship. It meant Joel could ignore me without trying. Besides his whispered words and small squeeze to my hand, he hadn’t touched me.

Obviously, he didn't like Lisa, and I could not blame him. "Who is Joey?" I asked. "Joey McBride. The guy that owns the Joe's Car wash," he said, and I was stunned. "Fat Joey?" I said, and he began to laugh because that was what we called the guy. "He has lost a lot of weight now. With muscles and all and the carwash business is doing good. He has money now," Mike told me, and I was happy about this news.