Male Muscle Growth Story Novels & Stories

I hit the dummy so hard the post cracked down the middle. "Good," Marcus said. "Whatever you're thinking about keep thinking about it." The training session lasted another two hours, by the end my muscles were screaming and I could barely lift my arms. Marcus finally called it and I collapsed on the ground right where I was standing. "You did well today," he said, standing over me, blocking out the sun. "You're getting stronger. Faster. In a few more weeks you might actually be able to hold your own in a real fight."

He grunted approval and went back to his show. The next few weeks fell into a rhythm. I went to the gym almost every evening after work. Marcus was always there, waiting with a plan. We talked while I worked out. At first it was small stuff, my job at the bank, his years as a trainer, how he got into fitness after college. But the conversations got longer and deeper. One evening after a tough leg day I sat on a bench catching my breath. My thighs burned but I felt good. “You’re progressing fast,” Marcus said, handing me water. “Most people quit after the first week. You keep showing up. I like that.”