Appreciating Every Square Inch of Her Muscular Body

Beautiful sexy mama Dena Anne Weiner.

Beautiful sexy mama Dena Anne Weiner.

If you have an affinity for muscular women, it’s not enough for you to want to see her body. You want to touch her body. And not just parts of her body; you want to touch every square inch of her muscular body.

This fantasy is common for guys who love female bodybuilders. There’s a stereotype that guys are visual creatures when it comes to sexuality. I’m not here to debunk that idea, but instead to add to it. It’s true that men love the sight of a beautiful woman (or man, depending on his sexual orientation), but we also appreciate the tactile dimension of human attraction.

Touch matters. Taste matters. Scent matters. There are five senses, not just one or two. Perhaps more than “conventionally” beautiful women, muscular women evoke in our imaginations a desire to experience her with all five of our senses.

On a practical level, how does this play out? Usually through engaging in a muscle worship session with a female bodybuilder/wrestler/erotic provider.

Muscle worship isn’t just about living out one’s fantasies. It’s about experiencing what’s right there in front of you. A muscular woman’s body is the object of desire that sends shivers down one’s spine. What’s important isn’t just enjoying the idea of a strong beautiful woman, but actually being able to meet, talk with, and sensually explore a strong beautiful woman’s physical form. It is this experience that makes our hearts skip a beat and forces time to seemingly stand still.

What explains this? The ethereal nature of female bodybuilders is one explanation. We often treat muscular women like “goddesses” and “angels,” divine beings who are deities incarnate. We know a female bodybuilder isn’t actually a spiritual being in the flesh, but we nevertheless use these types of analogies because they’re the closest way we can describe our affinity for them.

And how are divine beings supposed to be treated? As if you’re not worthy of being in their presence, but you will enjoy being in their presence regardless. When a peasant is fortunate enough to meet the King or Queen, it’s as if they’re meeting God himself. They feel uncomfortable talking to them directly, looking at them in the eye, or offending their sensibilities. It’s not necessarily because they’re afraid of punishment (which could often actually be the case), but rather they’re in awe of being able to be in front of a person of such high political and social power.

Likewise, those of us who are lucky enough to meet a female bodybuilder up close and personal know what this is like. We get a dry throat. Our speech starts to stammer. We can’t think straight or finish a coherent sentence. We act strangely. We cannot sit still if our lives depended upon it. Most of us are able to act cool, calm and collected, but we all have our moments. Like a pyramid-building slave lying prostrate before Pharaoh, we realize we’re no longer in Kansas, Toto. We’re in the same room as a beautiful muscle goddess. Ain’t that something?

Flavia Crisos's lower body is a gem.

Flavia Crisos’s lower body is a gem.

Throughout history, kings and queens were actually treated like deities because their rule was considered divinely approved (or directed). Regal figures may not technically have been considered gods and goddesses, but if the Almighty appoints you the King of France or the Queen of England, who has the right to question your legitimacy?

Today, we realize female bodybuilders are not divinely chosen to be who they are. Yet, that same attitude still persists. If mankind (which obviously includes women) is created in the image of God, aren’t we then logically touching the very body of the Divine?

You don’t need to be a religious scholar to understand why it’s so special to touch a muscular woman’s body. Our psychological and cultural upbringing leads us to treat certain human beings as more than just human beings. The same goes for celebrities, major political figures, world-class athletes and anyone else whose accomplishments we admire. Our admiration for them most likely isn’t sexual in nature, but that doesn’t change the fact our behavior around famous people is very different compared to how we act around “normal” people.

So that explains the shivers that go down your spine when you shake a female bodybuilder’s hand or the giddy feeling you get as you walk down the hallway and approach her hotel room. But once you actually meet her and your session (assuming we’re talking about a muscle worship session) commences, you cannot help but want to touch every single square inch of her gorgeous body. Her body is a work of art and deserves to be appreciated on a tactile level. And in this moment, you’re the one who is allowed to do that.

It’s not just her biceps, abdomen, back or thighs that you want to touch. You also want to touch the parts of her body that aren’t necessarily big and muscular. Her nape (the back part of her neck), her face, her ankles, her wrists, her fingers, her elbows, her flat breasts, everywhere. You want to experience all of her…even if you never would’ve been interested in touching those parts of a non-muscular woman’s body.

You may have a beautiful wife or girlfriend, but odds are she isn’t a bodybuilder. You might find her to be pretty and she may have a great looking body. But you don’t fetishize her fingers. They’re just fingers, for crying out loud! But when you see and feel a female bodybuilder’s hard calloused fingers – tangible proof of her years and years dedicated to weightlifting and busting her tail at the gym – a jolt of electricity surges throughout your entire nervous system. This experience is completely different. A female bodybuilder is a whole other species of human being. You’ve made love to your significant other countless times, but never during your relationship with her have you ever gotten aroused from touching her arms. When you feel an FBB’s swollen biceps and triceps, on the other hand, you feel like you might pass out and fall into a decade-long coma.

What more can be said about Theresa Ivancik?

What more can be said about Theresa Ivancik?

Even if you’ve never participated in a muscle worship session or wrestling match with a muscular woman, this fantasy could still be present inside your imagination. You really want to feel Debi Laszewski’s calves, but you also (for some very odd reason) want to touch her lips, teeth, and chin. It’s strange to possess the desire to do this, but you cannot explain why. Nor do you feel the need to ever explain why. Your desires are your desires and you refuse to apologize for having them.

From personal experience, I can tell you that one of my biggest turn-ons is caressing a muscular woman’s face. Her face obviously isn’t muscular or radically different from any other kind of woman’s face. During my first ever muscle worship session, I took lots of time to caress her cheek. It was the most erotic moment of the evening. The feel of her crow’s feet and wrinkles aroused me like nothing else did. Yes, she was an older woman (she’s just as old as my parents, believe it or not), but that wasn’t the reason. I loved touching her body, even the parts of her body that wasn’t muscular. I loved every moment of it.

During other muscle worship sessions, I’ve felt the weird desire to rub her feet (and I am not a foot fetishist!), feel her callouses, and caress the back of her neck. I wanted to experience every single inch of her. Her muscles are beautiful (obviously!) but they aren’t the most erotic part of her physical self. Her most erotic feature is….everything.

Everything. Every inch of her. Everything.

It’s not just about her muscles. When female muscle skeptics question why guys and gals like us are so into female bodybuilders, it can be difficult to fully explain. To do justice to articulating what it’s like to have a female muscle fetish requires going beyond a muscular woman’s muscles and talking about everything else. It’s not just her wide shoulders, broad back, and rounded calves that we love. It’s also her lips. And the back of her knees. Her veiny forearms. The crinkles around her eyes. The palms of her hands that are covered with rigid dead skin. It’s everything about her.

Female bodybuilders are just like the rest of us, but we don’t always think of them that way. We all know they at one time in their lives looked “normal,” but we cannot help but focus on who they are presently rather than who they used to be. It’s easier to only look at the final product instead of the journey it took to get to that final product. In other words, in the back of our minds female bodybuilders are not actually just like the rest of us, even though we logically know that they are.

They exist on a different metaphysical plane. They might walk amongst us mortals, but they are indeed goddess among men. They aren’t just physically beautiful. They’re intellectually, philosophically, and spiritually beautiful as well. We love them to death but struggle to explain why. Yet, we feel no need to have to explain why. We just do and that’s the end of the story.

If you chat with a fellow female muscle lover, you experience a really awesome sense of unspoken mutual understanding that’s incredibly liberating. You both know why you love FBBs. You don’t feel embarrassed or emasculated admitting to a complete stranger that you love muscular women because they do too. You can admit out loud (or in writing) that you want to lick Alina Popa’s triceps and the other person won’t blink an eye or ridicule you for it. Odds are they want to do the exact same thing! You want to experience every square inch of her, even the inches that not too many of us are keen on. But, they understand and are probably in agreement with you.

Whether you’re lucky enough to meet a female bodybuilder in person or if you just fantasize about meeting one, we all want to do the very same thing with them: appreciate every square inch of her body. Maybe this appreciation is tactile, or perhaps it’s more theoretical. Even the parts of her body that aren’t muscular intrigue us. It’s irrational, but we all know what we’re dealing with here (hence, it goes unspoken).

Jodi Miller knows how to dress herself.

Jodi Miller knows how to dress herself.

So this essay is less expository and more stream-of-consciousness. I apologize if I’m not making a whole lot of sense! This is just a natural continuation of a common theme found in all my writing: female bodybuilders are special in ways that cannot be entirely described. They seem like they belong in a separate caste. Their bodies aren’t just beautiful, they’re divine. And it’s not just their muscles that arouse our interest. It’s every single facet of their beings that makes our hearts skip a beat.

It’s inconceivable why a seemingly limited topic can be subject to millions of essays, conversation threads, blogs, and e-mail exchanges. Compared to conventional topics like politics, parenting, space exploration, Harry Potter fandom, pop music, fly fishing, knitting, or scuba diving, the world of female bodybuilding appears to be limited in scope. After all, is there a single female bodybuilder who is also a household name? Outside of watching the Olympics, how often is the general population exposed to muscular women? Why do FBBs pique our interest so much despite their lack of coverage in mainstream media?

There is no definitive answer. Nor should there be. Female bodybuilders capture our hearts and minds simply because that’s exactly what they do.

Here’s another theory. Sometimes, our minds cannot accept something until we are able to experience it in a more profound way. For example, we all know that we should look both ways before crossing a street. We’ve been taught this by our parents, grandparents, babysitters, and schoolteachers ever since we were little children. Theoretically, we know this is an important piece of advice.

However, we don’t actually start to internalize it until we have a “big scare” moment. Imagine that you’re 16 years old and on one fateful day you don’t look both ways before walking through an intersection. You don’t hear any oncoming traffic so you assume there isn’t any. Before you can take another step, a speeding car zooms by and nearly hits you. If you collide with the car, the car will win 100 percent of the time. You’ll be dead or at the very least severely injured. But assume, for the sake of this illustration, you narrowly escape certain doom and you survive just fine. Suddenly, the old advice of “look both ways before crossing the street” takes on a whole deeper level of meaning for you. Before, you knew on the surface this was important advice. But now, after experiencing a brush with near-death, you now comprehend this adage on a more tangible level.

You don’t just know the words of this proverb. You understand its entire rationale. Will you ever blindly stroll through an intersection ever again? Probably not.

Likewise, we know female bodybuilders and muscular women of all shapes and sizes are real. But it doesn’t actually sink in until you meet one in the flesh. Or when you start to touch her muscular flesh. When you feel her hardness and experience her remarkable strength, as the newer saying goes, “shit gets real.” You know she’s real but your brain struggles to accept that she is who she appears to be.

She’s a woman. She also has more muscles than most men. She’s strong. But most women you know aren’t nearly as strong. How can this be? How does this compute?

Hence, you feel compelled to touch every single inch of her because your brain needs to tangibly experience her physical self in order to fully understand it. Her existence causes cognitive dissonance that isn’t easily shaken. Knowing on a theoretical level that muscular women exist is one thing; being able to see her and feel her body is quite another.

Thai muscle goddess Penpraghai Tiangngok.

Thai muscle goddess Penpraghai Tiangngok.

Maybe this fascination wears off the more often you meet muscular women for sessions. That might be the case for me. Now that I’ve met a fair amount of female bodybuilders (and a few on multiple occasions) over the years, the novelty has sort of dissipated. I still get excited and antsy every single time I’m about her meet one for an appointment, but I’ll admit I’m starting to feel less anxious as the years go on. My electrified giddiness has been downgraded to “eager anticipation.” I used to want to actually touch every single inch of her body.

But now, I’m okay with touching most of it and not bothering with the rest.

However…I still have my moments.

Whenever I watch a video clip of a sexy female bodybuilder preening for the camera, my eyes still cannot leave the screen. I stop dead in my tracks and helplessly stare at:

The veins popping out of her bicep…
Her thick muscular legs spread out wide…
The proud revealing of her juicy big clit…
Her beautiful face smiling at me…
The irresistible sparkle in her eye…
Drops of sweat dripping down her neck and toward her chest…
Long erect nipples that look sooooooooo sensitive to the touch…
A broad back as wide as a refrigerator…
Her meaty triceps…
The striations of her quads…
A chiseled six-pack abdomen that’s begging to be licked dry…………….

…oh, baby….I can’t help but feel, um, uhh, errrrrr………….

<Dramatic pause>

Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WOW!!! Holy Mother of God!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I WANT TO TOUCH EVERY SINGLE SQUARE INCH OF THAT GORGEOUS SEXY MUSCULAR BODY!!!!!!

RIGHT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

<Deep breath. Another dramatic pause>

Oh, I guess I still do feel that way. Silly me.

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A Female Muscle Fetish Might Not Actually Be a Fetish

"Fetish" is a strong word. And Betty Viana is a strong lady.

“Fetish” is a strong word. And Betty Viana is a strong lady.

Readers of this blog will frequently see the words “female muscle fetish” grace across their screen. Heck, it was an article titled “Top 10 Misconceptions About Having a Female Muscle Fetish” that practically put me on the map (albeit, a very small map) in the first place. So I obviously owe a great debt to the SEO gods for this phrase.

But after years of thinking about this tantalizing topic, I’ve come to the conclusion that “fetish” might be a slightly misleading label. Words having their own meaning, but it’s the connotation behind words that often times matters more. For many of us, the word “dentist” might make us cringe because of how much we hated going to the dentist as kids (and adults). Even if our dentist was the nicest person on planet Earth, the experience of having cavities filled in and anesthesia injected into our mouths was too traumatizing to make up for it.

Likewise, the word “fetish” can bring up certain associations that aren’t always true or fair. Simply defined, a fetish is “an object or bodily part whose real or fantasied presence is psychologically necessary for sexual gratification and that is an object of fixation to the extent that it may interfere with complete sexual expression.”

Whoa. Sounds heavy. Sounds serious. Sounds…confusing.

So when most of us use the word “fetish,” we’re most likely using it wrong. It’s a strong word, just like “hate” and “love.” Generally speaking, when we say the word “fetish,” we really mean “something you’re really sexually into.” Emphasis on the word “really.”

The world of female muscle fetishism runs a wide spectrum. There are guys who think fit women are sexy but don’t spend too much time thinking about them. There are guys who obsess over being physically dominated by a woman. There are some who enjoy this kink every once in a while. There are others who cannot fully enjoy sex without this aspect mixed in with it. And there are most of us who are in the middle.

Eve Stevenson is showing off how she got those big biceps.

Eve Stevenson is showing off how she got those big biceps.

The word “fetish” should probably imply a more extreme version of liking muscular women. But a lot of us aren’t that into it. We lust over Mavi Gioia, but we’re not willing to go to unhealthy extremes to meet her in person. We love being physically dominated by a female (either dominatrix or bodybuilder), but we’re not going to break our bank to satisfy this kink every weekend. We have our limits and we respect those limits. So is that truly a “fetish” or a “keen interest?”

But this discussion has less to do with psychology and more to do with terminology. On a larger cultural level, the concept of “female muscle fetishism” tends to imply a number of characteristics about the person who has this fetish. Some of them include, but are not limited to:

  • He (or she) enjoys being physically beaten or abused by a strong woman
  • He (or she) has low self-esteem and derives pleasure from putting their insecurities on display
  • He (or she) is obsessed with their fetish to the point it will most likely ruin their lives
  • He (or she) is socially deviant in some way
  • He (or she) should seek help
  • He (or she) obviously doesn’t find other body types attractive if they have this type of fetish

Essentially, the stereotype associated with female muscle fetishism is that the people who love strong women have a level of sexual attraction to them that either crosses a line or gets eerily close to it. What is that line exactly? Usually, it has something to do with exhibiting unhealthy or socially inappropriate behavior. They need to be counseled before they take things too far. After all, can someone who’s into muscular women be able to hold a fully functional relationship with a “normal” looking woman?

Are we really that far outside the norm?

But I beg to differ. I don’t speak for all guys (and gals) who adore muscular women, but I can say with great confidence that my tastes are not outside of what society deems to be acceptable. Admittedly, it is unusual for a guy to really dig big, buff women…but it’s not rare. The readership statistics of my humble blog alone proves that there are folks all across the globe who share this interest.

Nobody defined the 90s like Pamela Anderson.

Nobody defined the 90s like Pamela Anderson.

This is why I’ve come to the conclusion that “fetish” may be too strong of a word. I’ve also used the phrase “female muscle fans” or “female muscle lovers.” I’ve written at length that my love for muscular women isn’t just physical or sexual. I admire their dedication, confidence, attention to detail, self-discipline and unwavering belief in themselves. The life of a bodybuilder, especially a female bodybuilder, is an arduous journey. Whoever is tough-minded enough to embark on that journey deserves our praise.

For me, and perhaps for many of you, we love muscular women – but they are not the only types of women we love. For almost 20 years I’ve harbored strong celebrity crushes on Famke Janssen and Rena Mero. As a teenage boy, I cannot tell you how many times I fantasized about Pamela Anderson while, ahem, “taking care” of myself in my bedroom. I don’t care that all three of these women are in their 40s. If the opportunity were to come up, I’d make sweet love to all of them (of course, I’d probably have to be extra careful about Miss Anderson, but that’s a whole other issue!) all night long.

Perhaps it’s not an accident that I discovered Famke Janssen when she played the sexy dangerous Xenia Onatopp in GoldenEye (1995), a move that’s now 20 years old. In addition to GoldenEye being my favorite James Bond movie (The Living Daylights is a distant second, followed by 2006’s Casino Royale in third place), it obviously struck a chord with me as a prepubescent boy watching a character with raw animalistic sexuality killing her enemies by choking them with her strong legs. Also, Rena Mero was a WWF Diva for the longest time. She also beat her opponents senseless with her ruthlessly brutal strength. I understand both women were playing characters, but their impact has definitely left a mark on me.

Famke Janssen remains just as beautiful today as she was 20 years ago. Maybe more beautiful, if I may say so myself.

Famke Janssen remains just as beautiful today as she was 20 years ago. Maybe more beautiful, if I may say so myself.

I don’t hold too many celebrity crushes today, but certainly there are non-muscular women who excite me just as much as their buffer sisters. The young lady I currently have my eye on (I don’t think she likes me very much, but that’s not important right now) is as skinny as can be. She’s really darn cute and has almost no muscle mass whatsoever. No big deal. I still really like her!

But would any of you consider Famke Janssen or Rena Mero – you may have to rewind your clocks back to the 90s for a moment – a Bond villainess and a WWF wrestler, outside the norm of “sexy?” I wouldn’t. If I had to choose a celebrity crush today, I might lean toward Monica Bellucci (who, once again, is a Bond woman who just turned 51). Once again, is that so bizarre? If I had to choose between spending a night of passion with Ms. Bellucci versus Denise Masino, I’d probably pick Monica. But it would be a close battle.

See? My female muscle fetishism does have boundaries! I can still be reasonable every once in a while.

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating. For me, muscular women aren’t the only type of women I love. They’re just one particular type I find especially appealing. Just because Thai food is my favorite cuisine in the world doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy a delicious Italian dinner here or there. Baseball and football (not soccer. Sorry, non-American readers) might be my two favorite sports to watch, but if a basketball game were to sneak up on my TV, I might sit down and see what’s going on. Especially if an all-world player like Steph Curry is playing.

Muscular women are just one tool in the toolbox. They have a body type I find quite arousing, but that doesn’t mean non-muscular women don’t also turn me on. It doesn’t have to be “either, or.” Rarely in life do we have to choose between two stark contrasting choices. We can have it both ways!

But alas, odds are I will continue to use the phrase “female muscle fetish.” There’s nothing inherently wrong with this description. It might be a bit inaccurate, but it’s not entirely incorrect.

The self-proclaimed "Bond woman" herself, the Italian Goddess Monica Bellucci.

The self-proclaimed “Bond woman” herself, the Italian Goddess Monica Bellucci.

On the other hand, it is indisputable that many of us feel a level of attraction to strong women that can be indescribable. It pulls us in and refuses to let go. At least once a day (usually after I get back home from work) I need to check out my usual lineup of favorite female muscle-related blogs. I’m not such an addict that I need my “fix” while sitting at work. But when I’m at home, how can I not spend a few minutes and browse new photos of Juliana Malacarne, Lindsay Mulinazzi, Amber DeLuca or Monica Martin? Can you really blame me?

There’s a fine line between “keen interest” and “unhealthy obsession.” I cannot fully describe to you what they are, but I have a pretty good idea. An unhealthy obsession develops when you cannot control your own actions. When you become “addicted” to it, that’s when you know you’ve crossed this sacred line. I am not advocating for anyone to jeopardize their relationships and personal lives over our shared interest. If you feel like any of your sexual fetishes are causing tangible harm to your life, please seek out professional help immediately. I cannot stress this point enough.

Whatever happened to Rena Mero, a.k.a. Sable?

Whatever happened to Rena Mero, a.k.a. Sable?

However, most of us are not in this camp. Thankfully, we love muscular women but our love for them does not have a despotic stranglehold on us. “Fetish” might be too bold of a word, but it definitely serves the purpose of describing our “keen interest” as something that goes beyond a casual diversion. There’s nothing casual about our fandom. It’s made an indelible mark. But is it unhealthy? I would positively say “no” to that.

Words have meaning. But so do emotions. And gut reactions. We know beauty when we see it. We may not be able to put an actual word – or string of words – to it, but we don’t have to. We can appreciate something without slapping an artificial label on it. Fetish or no fetish, that’s somewhat irrelevant. It is what it is. We love muscular women. Period. What this love should be called matters very little to us.

If I Don’t Already Like Female Bodybuilders, Should I?

I love me some Marina Lopez.

I love me some Marina Lopez.

There are a lot of people out there who love female muscle.

A lot.

Whether you consider your cup of tea to be women bodybuilders, female athletes, fitness and figure competitors, lady personal trainers or muscular porn actresses, the existence of society’s affinity toward female muscle is undeniable. Granted, it’s not a huge portion of society, but there is little doubt that many folks around the world share this particular attraction.

The reasons why a man (or woman) would like female bodybuilders are numerous. After all, they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, n’est-ce pas?

But a far more interesting question to discuss is as follows: If I don’t already like female bodybuilders, should I?

In other words, if you don’t consider women like Marina Lopez, Jana Linke-Sippl or Emery Miller as sexy as a Victoria’s Secret supermodel, should you? Do you have any obligation whatsoever to at least consider the possibility that a woman with muscles can be beautiful – not grotesque, disgusting or repulsive? Or are you justified in making your conclusion and never reconsidering your position?

I am of the opinion that whatever (or whomever) you find attractive is your opinion and yours alone. You have every right to find a particular person beautiful and the person standing next to them not as beautiful. But I also believe you should never limit yourself. You should never shut out any possibility without sampling what it could be like first. That’s true for many things in life.

The British Bombshell Lisa Cross.

The British Bombshell Lisa Cross.

While I challenge everyone who finds female muscle hideous to strongly reconsider their opinion, I also don’t want to guilt trip anybody to move to “our side.” I could make a socio-feminist argument in support of female bodybuilding. I could get defensive. I could get mean and nasty. But that would be counter-productive. No one ever won an argument by shouting, right?

One of my favorite Facebook pages is Women Who are Big, Thick, Dense and Muscular are Hott and Sexy Heaven. Don’t let the extravagant and hyperbolic page name turn you away. While I still haven’t figured out why “Hott” is spelled with two t’s, I can forgive them because they post every single day really awesome photos of female bodybuilders. It’s always the first page I check every morning. I highly recommend you “like” their page if you’re an active Facebook user.

Just make sure you don’t post too many mean spirited comments. You’ll almost always receive negative feedback, mostly from the page’s administrator (whoever that is). Though I think they tend to get a little too defensive toward undesirable comments, trying to keep the conversation positive is a noble goal.

So if you’re ever feeling like people are negatively judging you for your love of female muscle, countering that with a judgmental attitude of your own doesn’t do anyone any good. Fighting fire with fire isn’t always a prudent strategy. As difficult as it can be, sometimes you have to take mean, sexist comments in stride and counter it with grace, humility and intellectual integrity.

Angela Salvagno's sexiness is off the charts.

Angela Salvagno’s sexiness is off the charts.

I suppose the answer to my proposed question is “no.” You don’t have to like female bodybuilders if you don’t already. You have no requirement to do so. In your life’s Bucket List, looking at an image of an FBB and thinking to yourself, “Gee, she looks great!” shouldn’t have to be on it.

However, this point of contention does come with a caveat. You do have to respect those who do and not try to embarrass them about it.

And, don’t assume that people who love female muscle are weird, deranged, psychopathic, psychologically damaged, bizarre, sociopathic or any other insulting label.

Here’s an example. Some people think guys (and gals) like us are somehow unhealthy. Some get the impression that we need help, that our attraction can be dangerous, that we’re crossing over into the perilous territory of “obsession.”

Don't you wish you had abs like Cindy Landolt?

Don’t you wish you had abs like Cindy Landolt?

Personally, my attraction to female bodybuilders isn’t even close to being an obsession. So never assume that it is. Obsessions can be unhealthy. Obsessions can lead to squandering money, damaging relationships, destroying your work and family life and consuming everything that is good about you. Like the issue of substance abuse, your obsession can take on a life of its own and create a monster that can be really tough to slay. But, and I want to make this a point of emphasis, this is often the stereotype associated to people who like female muscle.

We’re addicts. We need help. It will eventually consume our lives.

While any mild attraction can morph into something terrible, I don’t believe liking female muscle is any unhealthier than being into BDSM. Lots of people are into that sort of thing. You probably know dozens of people; family members, neighbors, friends, coworkers, the cute lady who makes your coffee every morning at Starbucks; who are turned on by bondage, discipline, sado-masochism, etc. You just don’t know it.

And if it’s someone close to you, you probably would rather be kept in the dark!

So, even if you did find out somehow, would that change your opinion of them? Would you choose to move out of your neighborhood when you find out the nice couple living across the street from you likes to spank each other occasionally? If so, I’d advise you never peek into your neighbor’s bedrooms at night to find out (not that you should for any other reason!).

Is Alina Popa the most beautiful woman in the world? Yes. Yes, she is.

Is Alina Popa the most beautiful woman in the world? Yes. Yes, she is.

I suppose this blog post is aimed at two audiences: Those who like female muscle and feel defensive about it and those who do not and think that people who do are “strange.” Unfamiliarity, strained egos and the unwillingness to tune out antagonistic chatter can cause this animosity between us. We shouldn’t let this happen, of course.

So if you don’t already like female bodybuilders and female muscle, you don’t have to. There! I just answered the $1 million question. Likewise, if someone does prefer ladies with meat on their bones, just acknowledge that everyone is entitled to their own tastes and move on with your life.

I try to write articles that can create a dialogue. Thus far, I’m blessed to have a strong readership who reads all the material I post on here. Thank you so much! Without readers, a blog is meaningless.

I’m also aware that lots of people share my articles on social media sites like Facebook and Twitter. Once again, thank you for spreading my words across the large galaxy that is the Internet. I never imagined when I first started this blog that I would be as “popular” as I am now (so to speak).

A lot of folks find my blog randomly through search engines. I believe this is proof that there are plenty of people out there who are just as curious about having a female muscle fetish as I am. Some of you have an incomprehensible admiration for female muscle and can’t explain why. Others of you know someone who shares this attraction and are baffled as to why they feel this way.

I need Ludmila Kolesnikova to protect me in battle. Seriously.

I need Ludmila Kolesnikova to protect me in battle. Seriously.

We come from dissimilar paths in life and from all corners of the world. But we all share one thing in common, regardless of which side of the fence we’re on: We’re all captivated, albeit in different ways, by a woman with muscles. They entice us. They provoke us. They stir thoughts and emotions within us that nothing else can. It’s unexplainable. It’s irrational. It’s undeniable.

Why is Alina Pope one of the most beautiful women in the world? Why does she grab my attention in a manner a Playboy playmate can’t match? I could write a whole blog post about Miss Popa alone if I want to. Seriously. I might actually do that.

But to attempt to articulate my love for Alina Popa would bring up a mountain load of follow up questions to the skeptical eye. Why do you like a woman who looks like that? Why don’t you like smaller women instead? Do you actually think the veins in her arms are sexy? Did your mother excessively punish you when you were a child?

Perhaps we could hold a Socratic dialogue and really get to the root of why men like me like ladies like her. We could do this over a couple of beers and plenty of chips and salsa. We might actually learn something about each other.

I’m game. Are you?

Incomprehensible Admiration: The Internal Thoughts of a Female Muscle Lover

I dare you to look away at Victoria Dominguez. Bet you can't!

I dare you to look away at Victoria Dominguez. Bet you can’t!

I consider myself to be a rational, level-headed guy. I don’t jump to conclusions, I don’t make knee jerk reactionary decisions and I don’t dive head first into new, uncharted waters.

So what’s coming over me lately?

And by “lately,” I’m referring to the past year. And the past month. But mostly, I’m referring to my whole perspective on sexuality, women and female bodybuilders ever since I discovered I have a female muscle fetish.

Anyone who’s read this blog and other like-minded ones know what we’re talking about. It’s strange being in love with muscular women. It’s weird. It’s socially taboo. It’s discouraged to talk about this openly around polite company. Yet, as any of you who love strong women can speak to, it’s something that can’t leave our minds.

It’s as though we think about muscular women 24/7. It’s an attraction that grapples you and never lets you go.

Of course, we don’t actually think about female bodybuilders every second of our lives. This is hyperbole to make a point. The point is this: Having a female muscle fetish makes us so irrational!

Jay Fuchs rocks my world.

Jay Fuchs rocks my world.

Let’s use me as an example. In the past year, I’ve started a blog, created a fictional narrative around a fantasy version of myself (The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi series), written a series of anecdotal articles about female muscle fetishism that’s been read by people around the globe, arranged and participated in a muscle worship session with a genuine female bodybuilder and even become more comfortable with my own body (despite lingering insecurities).

Nothing about this is rational. Nothing about this makes sense. Nothing about this is characteristic of me. I’m doing things I’d never dreamed of doing. Contacting a complete stranger and paying her to “play” with me in a hotel room? Yikes! Who would have thought?

None of this is something I would have done four years ago. Or three years ago. Hell, even two years ago. This is all completely new to me. All of it. I’ve written for blogs before, but none as personal or as deep as this one.

You have to admit this dynamic photo of Amanda Latona steals your breath away.

You have to admit this dynamic photo of Amanda Latona steals your breath away.

I’ve developed what I call an “Incomprehensible Admiration” for female bodybuilders. It’s like a lightning bolt that hit me from the sky. It’s like a fire that burns deep within my soul. It’s like a voice inside my head, pulling and pushing me in all directions till I find myself somewhere I’ve never been before. It’s a lot like that.

Ironically, I’m sure none of this makes sense. I’m sure you’re asking yourself: Golly, Ryan. What point are you trying to make here? To be truthful, I have no clue. Seriously. I have no clue. I love writing about female muscle, thinking about female muscle, looking at photos of muscular women and fantasizing about making love to a muscular woman. None of this is rational. None of this is scientific. None of this can be explained coherently.

None of it. Seriously. None. Of. It.

In the past, I’ve expressed theories on why I have a female muscle fetish. I’ve explained why guys like me love women that society tends to view as “disgusting,” “gross” and “unfeminine.” I’ve explained common misconceptions about men who like FBBs as well as admitting how strange it is. I’ve acknowledged all this, yet there’s still more I want to write about. I can’t stop thinking about my love for female muscle. This is not a “phase” that will go away anytime soon.

Tatianna Butler definitely spends a lot of time at the gym to get this amazing physique.

Tatianna Butler definitely spends a lot of time at the gym to get this amazing physique.

Internally, this is nearly impossible to explain clearly and succinctly. So I won’t even try. I’m just rambling at this point, so who cares if I continue to not make sense? I highly doubt any of you will judge me too harshly!

Let me put it this way: They say love makes you do stupid things. We all remember back to our first crush. That boy or girl you couldn’t keep your eyes off of and couldn’t stop thinking about. Remember him or her? I most certainly do.

Remember how odd this made you feel? Remember how dysfunctional you became whenever you were around this person? How you could hardly breathe, think, behave or move? Do you recall your heart melting whenever you were around this person – how you yearned to get as close to this person as possible, yet became distraught whenever you did?

Sure brings back memories, doesn’t it?

I love me some Annie Rivieccio.

I love me some Annie Rivieccio.

In a very offbeat way, having a female muscle fetish is a lot like the experience we all had surrounding our first crush. We all remember our first time encountering a woman with muscles in the same manner we all remember the exact moment we decided that particular boy or girl wasn’t just special, but Special with a capital “S.”

There are a lot of bloggers, Facebook pages and average folks out there who share my love for female muscle. I know for a fact I’m not alone. But what strikes me most about my fellow female muscle lovers is how they share not just my affinity for FBBs, but my deep passion and wild infatuation for them. This “Incomprehensible Admiration” makes us melt inside. When we see a video of Lisa Cross pumping her gorgeous biceps, we get a tingling feeling inside our souls that doesn’t allow us to blink for even a split second. Nothing else matters except for what Miss Cross is doing in this particular video.

Remember watching the Olympics last year and you saw those female track and field athletes sporting those six-pack abs? Could you look away from your television screen? I doubt you did!

This photo of Emery Miller is perfect in ways I cannot even begin to describe.

This photo of Emery Miller is perfect in ways I cannot even begin to describe.

A very fine blog, Female Muscle Slave, clearly has contributors who share this Incomprehensible Admiration. FMS posts new content almost every day, a feat I cannot even come close to achieving. I think it’s safe to say that this internal fire burns inside them too. That fire that cannot die once it’s been lit. Once you get hooked on strong ladies, it’s nearly impossible to turn back.

It’s like eating potato chips. Bet you can’t eat just one! So you came across a photo of Deidre Pagnanelli on Google Images? Bet you can’t look at just one!

This level of attraction is hard to compare to anything else. I see beautiful women every day in my life. While I certainly turn my head to catch a glimpse if one does cross my path, this doesn’t compare to the reaction I had when I encountered my first ever female bodybuilder in the flesh a while back. She (I have no idea what her name is) made my heart stop. The sight of her strong, gorgeous body literally stole my breath. I couldn’t look away.

If Gillian Kovack were on television, I'd never stop looking till my eyes hurt.

If Gillian Kovack were on television, I’d never stop looking till my eyes hurt.

Normally, staring at someone is considered rude. Guys try to look at a beautiful woman as discreetly as possible. This is when sunglasses come in handy! But looking at this young woman made me abandon whatever social politeness I normally try to observe. I could not, even if a gun were pointed at my head, look away. No matter how hard I tried, seeing a muscular woman up close and personal made me act completely irrationally. I became like a pubescent 12-year-old boy looking at porn for the first time. Once this new world is opened to you, nothing will ever be the same again.

Hence, this is why I compare the attraction toward female muscle to your first crush (or latest crush). Additionally, it’s also like a young boy seeing his first photo of a naked woman. You act foolishly. You can’t look away. And your perspective about female beauty is changed for good.

Wow! Women can look like this? I thought beautiful women had to be skinny to be attractive.

Nope. Not even close. Alina Popa is more beautiful than any Victoria’s Secret catalog model could ever dream to be. Her natural beauty, combined with her impressive strength and muscular definition, makes her a woman unlike any other woman on planet Earth. Then again, I could say this about almost any gorgeous FBB. Miss Popa just happens to be one of my personal favorites.

I just outlined for you some of the thoughts that rumble through the mind of a female muscle lover. We treat the first time we noticed our love for female muscle as if it were an historic event. Like remembering where you were during the Moon Landing (which, by the way, I’m too young to actually remember), the circumstances when you were first “awoken” to the world of female muscle is also an event that will live on in infamy.

One more photo of the British Bombshell Lisa Cross never hurt anybody.

One more photo of the British Bombshell Lisa Cross never hurt anybody.

I’m sure many of you also have this internal fire burning deep within your soul. I know lots of you share my Incomprehensible Admiration. This admiration makes us do incomprehensible things. But we don’t try to fight it. Instead, we give in to it joyfully and unashamedly.

I mean, who spends his hard-earned money on setting up a “muscle worship” session with a travelling female bodybuilder? THAT’S SO WEIRD! Especially when this person isn’t terribly rich either. Disposable income is tight for me, yet I found some reasonable justification for spending more than a week’s wages on 75 glorious minutes in a hotel room with a woman I’ve never been previously acquainted with. Do I regret anything in retrospect? Hell no!

Still, how do you rationalize something like that? To answer this question, I think it has to do with the adage that we’re all familiar with: Love makes you crazy.

It’s so true. Every word of it. Love indeed makes you crazy.

Our love for female muscle is no different.

Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Three)

Vilma Caez. There are no words.

Vilma Caez. There are no words.

I mean, HOT DAMN.

“Come on in,” she says to me.

I immediately obliged, closing the door gently behind me. I looked around and saw the room was dimly lit. Music played from an iPod in the background. It was some pop song that I can’t recall at the moment.

GFBB looked great, but different than I expected. But to be truthful, I had no idea what to expect. Would she be as hard and muscular as she was in her competition days? Or would she be a shadow of her former self, perhaps maybe slightly overweight?

My questions were answered the moment I laid eyes on her.

She wore a tight blue dress that left very little to the imagination. Proudly showing off her ample bosom and allowing her legs plenty of room to breathe, she looked beautiful. Simply beautiful.

Her body was curvy and toned, not ripped or hypermuscular as a competitive bodybuilder (I might have just invented the word ‘hypermuscular”). She was a few inches shorter than me, 5’4” as it indicates in her biography on AMG-Lite. She was bountiful in many parts of her body; including her chest, back, legs and arms. She looked like a woman who took care of herself at the gym, though not necessarily in the obsessive-compulsive manner of a professional bodybuilder. Her figure would definitely turn heads – not in an “Oh my God she’s so freakish” kind of way, but rather in a “Wow, she looks great!” sort of way.

Let me pause momentarily. Usually, guys who regularly schedule sessions with FBBs would be disappointed by this. Some folks truly expect their FBBs to look ripped, huge and ready to compete in the Ms. Olympia contest. Clearly, GFBB did not fit in this category. But I didn’t mind at all. While her figure wasn’t exceptionally muscular, she still looked beautiful nevertheless. I had nothing to complain about.

Asian Muscle Goddess Brenda Raganot.

Asian Muscle Goddess Brenda Raganot.

If I can make an analogy, it would be like this: Imagine meeting your favorite baseball or basketball player for the first time. You ask for his autograph or for him to take a picture with you. Now imagine you grew up rooting for this player and you consider him to be your childhood hero. A legend from your youth. Now imagine you’re meeting this famous athlete later in his career. He’s not nearly as great as he once was and his production on the field/court isn’t nearly up to the standards he held himself to when he was in the prime of his career. Regardless, you still feel amazed to meet your childhood hero up close. Yes, you realize he’s past his prime, but you still respect him and his body of work. You still feel giddy inside when you shake his hand and he gives you his signed jersey.

Meeting GFBB was sort of like that. I knew she wouldn’t look like she did when she was in the prime of her bodybuilding career, but that didn’t bother me one bit. Meeting her was still a great honor and a memory I will cherish for the rest of my life. Was I disheartened when I saw she didn’t have the bulging muscles that I’ve seen in countless photos and videos?

Hell no!

Returning to my adventure, she led me inside and told me to get comfortable. I took off my shoes and put my backpack next to a chair. We sat down. I sat on a comfortable chair and she sat on the bed. I could not stop staring at her legs! (Confession: I’m a leg guy) She sat cross legged to hide whatever was happening between her gorgeous thighs. I felt my manhood start to rumble. God, I can’t believe I’m actually going through with this!

More Sheila Bleck. Yowza!

More Sheila Bleck. Yowza!

The first thing we did was introduce each other. Though she didn’t ask for it, I gave her the envelop full of money to complete my financial obligation to her. She graciously accepted it. We both sat down again.

GFBB and I proceeded to have a fairly long conversation about many different topics. I asked her about her bodybuilding career and how she feels about traveling around the world and offering sessions to paying customers. Then we talked about traveling in general. We spoke about our world travels and some of our shared experiences of being a foreigner in a far off land. We talked about our jobs, our families, politics, the difference between our generations and some fairly deep philosophical topics.

Gee, I did not expect our conversation to go like this! She’s a pretty smart cookie.

After talking for about fifteen minutes, our conversation found a natural conclusion and we both knew it. It was time to begin this thing. She broke the ice by asking this simple question:

“Do you like strong women?”

Do I? Um, yes!

I got the sense she wanted to talk with me just to ease my nerves. She knew this is my first ever session and that I’m a complete newbie to this whole process. She even jokingly asked me how my mother would feel if she found out her son was in a hotel room with a strange, mostly naked woman. I told her she would probably be shocked and a bit disappointed.

Come to think of it, I have no idea what my mother would think about this. That’s probably something I don’t want to ever find out.

Amber Deluca exudes uncontained sexiness.

Amber Deluca exudes uncontained sexiness.

She suggested that she give me a back rub first. Alright, no problem!

I took off my shirt, shoes, socks and pants and lay down on the bed face down wearing only my underwear and a nervous smile. I still could not believe this was happening. But here I was, about to receive a back massage from a strong, beautiful intelligent woman.

Her hands pressed deep into my back, relaxing me beyond what I expected was possible. She commented on how I have a “swimmer’s body,” which I suppose means lean, angular and v-shaped. I took this as a supreme compliment. She obviously has met her share of muscular men in her life. I can take pride that she even found a reason to comment on my figure!

After I was sufficiently relaxed, she proceeded to take off her dress. I tried to turn around to steal a peek, but she playfully tapped me on the face to scold me.

“No peeking!” she says.

Oh, how I love this woman!

I, being a good boy, turned my head away so she could denude without my eyes wandering in her direction. I knew she was topless when I felt her large, plump breasts rubbing against my back. GFBB slowly caressed her breasts across my back side, starting on my butt and ending to almost my neckline. God, that felt good! Feeling the points of her nipples poke my skin accentuated the entire experience.

Very erotic, indeed.

Eventually she allows me to turn me around, upon which I lay on my back only to look up upon one of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her pretty face smiling at me, GFBB’s ample bosom impeccably complemented her toned, curvaceous figure. Her strong hands stroked my arms and shoulders. If Heaven exists, I think angels would look like her.

Shy and unsure about what to do next, she guided my hands to feel her breasts. Wow! Unbelievable! Warm, abundant and plump, her breasts gave off a more maternal vibe rather than sexual. She says they’re implants, which makes sense considering how much bodybuilding rescinds the fatty tissue women have in their mammary glands.

The angelic Charmaine Patterson.

The angelic Charmaine Patterson.

We both sat up and she began to “pose” for me. Flexing her arms, I felt her hard biceps welcoming me. Do I like strong women? I think my answer is definitely a resounding “yes!”

I greedily felt her muscles with a mixture of awe and hesitation. Where can I touch her? How does she feel about me touching her body like a horny school boy? She’s obviously used to this sort of thing, but I still didn’t want to treat her like a prostitute. She’s not a prostitute, even though the services she’s offering and the circumstances surrounding our meeting would suggest such a role.

Let me be clear. GFBB is not a prostitute. Not even close.

These thoughts flooded through my mind as I felt up her legs, feet, butt (she still had panties on), back, abdomen, arms and shoulders. Was I disappointed that her muscles weren’t bulgier and more defined? Not one bit.

“What about if I give you a back rub instead?” I suggested.

“Okay. Let’s try that,” she responds.

Now it was GFBB’s turn to get on her stomach and receive a relaxing back rub. Admiring her thick core, I thoroughly enjoyed making her feel like I appreciated everything she’s doing for me. I wonder how often guys who see her return the favor instead of always being on the receiving end. I wanted to show her that I’m a giving person.

We then got on the subject of talking about her career offering sessions to guys like me and how she feels about it. She tells me she doesn’t mind doing things like this, but she hates the word “session.”

“I prefer to call this an appointment,” she tells me.

I agree “session” doesn’t sound right. “Appointment” seems to be a more dignified way of describing muscle worship services. I agree with her completely.

Fanny Palou is perfect.

Fanny Palou is perfect.

Eventually I ask her about some of the weirdest “appointments” she’s ever had. She told me about one time when a married couple, a man and a woman, asked her to participate in a threesome. The man got aroused by his wife choking him nearly to the point of total asphyxiation. She found that disturbing.

I would too. Yikes.

I continued to rub her back. Feeling her trapezius muscles and listening to her retell stories, I realized I love the way her deep, gravelly voice sounds. There’s something sexy about a woman with a deep voice; very authoritative yet undeniably feminine.

GFBB’s skin was warm and firm. Her musky smell turned me on even more. I don’t consider smell to be a strong sense of mine. I don’t normally associate memories with smell. This evening might change all that. This evening will perhaps change many things about me.

I briefly looked at the bedside clock and saw nearly 50 minutes had passed so far. Gee, time sure flies when you’re having fun! She tells me I’m her last client of the evening. So I suppose that means she isn’t “clock watching” to make sure I get only an hour. I get the sense she wants to take her time with me. For that I am thankful.

We turned the discussion toward the subject of BDSM, the novel “50 Shades of Grey” and how muscle worship fits into all that. I told her BDSM isn’t my thing. She said that’s fine. We both agreed that “to each, his own.” GFBB offered to give me a brief taste of what she usually does with her clients. I got on my back and she wrapped her strong legs around my neck. She demonstrated what a “scissor lock” feels like. Some guys get aroused by a strong woman wrestling him into submission. A scissor hold is a common move. She squeezed, though not particularly hard, and asked me if I liked it.

“Honestly, I’m a little uncomfortable by this.”

She released her powerful thighs and let me sit up. Wow. Those are some dynamic pair of legs!

“It’s strange,” she began. “The guys who want to wrestle with me feel like they have something to prove. But prove what?”

Who wouldn't want Anne Freitas to wrap her strong, powerful legs around them?

Who wouldn’t want Anne Freitas to wrap her strong, powerful legs around them?

I imagine there are insecure men out there who feel like “winning” a wrestling match with a female bodybuilder would be a great personal victory. In a strange sort of way, I kind of understand why, even though I don’t feel the same. All I can say is that I don’t need to “prove” anything to anyone, let alone a beautiful lady like GFBB.

I looked at the clock again. Almost an hour has passed. From the time I knocked on the door to the present moment, it’s been an hour. I think we both know what comes next.

“May I use the bathroom?” I ask.

“Of course.” She laughs.

I go into the bathroom and pee. I didn’t really have to pee that badly, but I figure if I’m about to receive a “happy ending” I should be as comfortable as possible. I’ve never done anything like this before so I want my first time to be special.

I come out of the bathroom and see GFBB has taken off her panties. She is completely naked. As nude as the day she was born. She stood over her iPod and fiddled with it. She asked me if I knew how to work this. Her iPod was playing the same song over and over again (I hadn’t noticed) and she wanted it to move on to the next song. I told her I had no idea why it was doing that. I gave her a playful spank on her bare butt. She giggled.

We got back on the bed after I removed my underwear. Both of us completely nude, we felt up each other’s bodies once more. Amazingly, my penis wasn’t hard yet, but I sure hope it will be soon. I looked down at her vagina and saw she shaved her pubic hair down to a fine thin strip. Very hot. Her firm, round butt was majestic. God, this woman is beautiful beyond words!

More Yvette Bova is never a bad thing.

More Yvette Bova is never a bad thing.

We looked into each other’s eyes and knew what was about to happen next. She promised a hand job at the end of our appointment. This moment could not have been more surreal. Imagine for a moment: Here I am, a meek Asian dude from Seattle, about to receive a hand job from a gorgeous world-famous female bodybuilder. One year ago I would have said you were crazy if you told me this was going to happen.

No way! Not me. I wouldn’t be able to do anything like that.

But – sure enough – it’s about to happen. Her touch sends shivers down my spine. Her skin feels like rich velvet. Her eyes captivate my soul. Her strength makes me swoon in ways no other woman could possibly match. Her playfulness, intelligence, kindness, sexiness and dry wit elicit emotions inside me that I know are irrational. We aren’t lovers. I just met her an hour ago. I don’t know her. She doesn’t know me. Yet why do I feel this way? Why do I feel like, in a mysteriously metaphysical way, this moment will forever be frozen in time? Why am I feeling a love for her that doesn’t make an ounce of sense? I know we could never be actual lovers, but why does this moment feel so…perfect?

As she teasingly plays with my penis, I couldn’t stop thinking about what all of this means.

Continued in Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Four)

Shared Experiences and Hidden Confessions: A Call for Reader Submissions

Are you willing to openly admit you think Marja Lehtonen is beautiful?

Are you willing to openly admit you think Marja Lehtonen is beautiful?

I am fortunate to have a wide and diverse audience that spans across 132 countries around the world.

That’s right. 132 different countries! Wow!!!

It continuously humbles me to learn how far across the globe my readership spreads. When I first started this blog a year ago, I had no idea I would have as many hits and page views as I do now. All you readers inspire me to write better content that speaks to what’s in your minds and hearts. Some of you have even said I’m sort of a “spokesperson” for those of you who admire female bodybuilders.

Yikes. A “spokesman?” Talk about a lofty title.

I’ve done my part in sharing my perspectives on having a female muscle fetish. Of course, I’m nowhere close to being done with my writing, but I’m now in the mood to hear more from you, the readers. So I’ve decided to ask for reader submissions.

After thinking about how I want to approach this, I think this is how we’ll proceed:

If you wouldn’t mind, please either e-mail me at ryantakahashi87@yahoo.com or write your responses in the comment section below (or you could publish a post on your own blog!) to the following questions. You don’t have to answer all of them; just answer the ones you feel comfortable answering. Your responses can be as long or as short as you want them to be. I have no limitations or minimal requirements.

If you choose to submit via e-mail, give yourself a pseudonym or maybe even your real name (if you don’t mind being known to the public) that I can refer you to in a future blog post. If you want to give us some brief biographical information, so be it (such as, I’m a 30-something white male from New York City, I’m a 40-something black female from San Diego or I’m a 28-year-old male from Singapore). I get the feeling folks out there might want to know if they can “identity” with whoever is responding to these questions.

Ready? Here we go…

  1. When did you first discover your love for female muscle?
  2. Why are you attracted to (or an admirer of) female bodybuilders?
  3. Have you ever met a female bodybuilder (or a woman with a lot of muscles)? If so, what were the circumstances?
  4. Have you ever engaged in a muscle worship or BDSM session with an FBB? If so, how did it go?
  5. How would you react to someone who says that a guy (or gal) who likes female bodybuilders is strange, weird, kooky in the head, etc.?
  6. Have you ever told anyone that you’re into female muscle?
  7. If you could tell someone who doesn’t understand your attraction to female muscle one thing, what would it be?
  8. Do you ever foresee a situation in the future when women with muscles and people who admire them will become more accepted by society?

I think that’s a good start. Naturally, feel free to add whatever additional thoughts you might have. Don’t limit yourself to just these eight questions. This is just a starting point.

I'm sure Christine Roth would love for you to submit your thoughts to Ryan Takahashi's blog!

I’m sure Christine Roth would love for you to submit your thoughts to Ryan Takahashi’s blog!

So have at it. I know for a fact that there are a lot of people out there who admire female bodybuilders and love female muscle but are afraid to freely admit it. Trust me; I’m in that exact same boat myself. But I think we can all take some comfort in knowing that we’re not alone; that there are others who share our same admiration but are also embarrassed about it.

I’m not here to change the world. Not by any stretch of the imagination. The primary purposes of this blog are to share my own thoughts, give people something nifty to read and to start a conversation. Conversations are great. They can make us think, let us know what other people are thinking and perhaps even create incremental change on a miniscule scale.

Heck, given the international reach of my blog and other like-minded blogs, a dialogue on a literal global scale is actually a possibility. Consider that for a moment.

Whew.

I look forward to reading your responses!

Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Two)

The lovely Ginger Martin. Once again, none of the ladies featured here is the woman I had a session with.

The lovely Ginger Martin. Once again, none of the ladies featured here is the woman I had a session with.

So there I was. Tuesday, May 21. Sitting at my desk, staring blankly at my computer screen.

I had a hard time concentrating at work. Getting stuff done was nearly impossible. My mind was somewhere else, far away from whatever I was supposed to be doing at my job.

Because in two days, in a little more than 48 hours, I’ll be engaging in my first ever muscle worship session with GFBB (Gorgeous Female Bodybuilder). I just don’t know where yet. This one last detail is the only thing I haven’t solidified yet with her.

Thursday at 7 p.m. Got it. But where? In Seattle? Or somewhere outside of Seattle?

But suddenly, while lounging around and superfluously passing the time, I receive a much anticipated e-mail from my personal account.

It’s from GFBB! Yes!!!

Up to this point, I felt like GFBB and I have developed good e-mail chemistry, if such a thing is possible. We’ve communicated clearly back and forth, there’s been no misunderstandings (wiring the deposit money into her account went smoothly) and she’s even cracked a joke or two toward me. It definitely appears as though this arrangement is starting off on the right foot.

I’m guessing she probably gets a lot of creepy messages from random guys (and ladies) asking her to do some ridiculous things. Fetish activities, threesomes, choking (to the point of near death), posing for photos/videos, role playing and probably even straight up sex. So it was refreshing to hear that she thinks of this as less of a “sexual” arrangement and more of a “business-like” proposition.

Kathy Johansson wearing very sexy red lingerie.

Kathy Johansson wearing very sexy red lingerie.

Her e-mail message lets me know which hotel she’s staying at during her Seattle stop. And guess what? The hotel is less than three miles away from my apartment! Holy cow! She’s staying within a stone’s throw of where I live. This definitely bodes well.

GFBB gives me her phone number and tells me to text her when I arrive at the hotel. Alright, gotcha. I can do that.

The next two days flew by quicker than a Tokyo bullet train running away from Godzilla. I decided to take a “sick day” that Thursday because I don’t want any distractions leading up to this session. I work fairly far away from my apartment and there are times when really bad traffic, combined with terrible weather, can make my commute long and arduous. I didn’t want any emotional or physical disruptions on the day of my first ever session with a gorgeous female bodybuilder. So it seemed clear to me that being “ill” that day was justifiable.

I woke up on Thursday morning feeling fresh and alive. Butterflies weren’t swarming in my stomach yet, but I could definitely tell there was a certain electrical charge flowing through my system. Let’s face it; this doesn’t happen all the time. And a guy is totally allowed to be nervous in anticipation of his first time, right?

Shawn Tan is tall, elegant, beautiful and sexy as hell. Can we all agree?

Shawn Tan is tall, elegant, beautiful and sexy as hell. Can we all agree?

I ate breakfast and headed out to the gym to work out. I understand I could never look as amazing as GFBB, but it never hurts to get a good workout in to get my blood flowing and to calm my nerves. I don’t normally to go the gym on afternoons, so I saw a whole different crowd than I’m used to seeing. Mostly retired folks and stay-at-home-moms.

It was leg day. Yuck.

On the agenda for the day were squats, lunges and other leg machine exercises. During my entire workout all I could think about was me – yours truly – stroking GFBB’s strong legs, caressing her biceps and fondling her breasts. Judging from pictures I’ve seen of her, she definitely has a bountiful pair of breasts. This is without a doubt something I was looking forward to experiencing!

The gorgeous Kathy Connors demonstrating the nerdy/sexy dynamic.

The gorgeous Kathy Connors demonstrating the nerdy/sexy dynamic.

After my grueling workout (leg day is always grueling. Just ask anyone who actually does it!), I then walked over to the grocery store across the street from the gym. At the store I bought a nice bottle of wine to give to her as a gift. I figure it’s the least I can do to demonstrate how thankful I am that she’s willing to let me have a session with her. I then went to the bank in the same complex to withdraw the rest of the money I need to pay her.

Upon returning home, it suddenly hit me. I’m about to participate in my first ever session with a gorgeous female bodybuilder. Don’t get me wrong; I know I’m about to do this (I’ve had this planned for at least a month), but it wasn’t until this moment, with a bottle of wine and an envelope full of cash in my possession, that it really started to sink in.

I lay on my bed and tried to think of nothing. Not think about playing hooky from work. Not think about whether this session will be a disappointment or not. Not think about what she’ll think of me once she meets me. Not even think about what I’ll eat for dinner after the session is over. I tried to think of nada, nothing, zilch.

But I couldn’t. I had butterflies dancing in my stomach (they were probably participating in a drunken rave by now), my blood pressure skyrocketing through the roof and enough nervous energy of fifty chorus girls making their Broadway debut. I had to do something in the next hour to pass the time…

I then thought of what to do: Write a blog post.

So, I did. You can read it here.

After publishing this new post, I looked at my phone and saw it was a little after 6 p.m. My appointment with GFBB is at 7 p.m. The venue is less than three miles away. I could get there in ten minutes. Theoretically, I could leave here at 6:30 and still be early. But darn it, I have to leave now! All this fiddling around is making me go insane.

Besides, what if I get a flat tire? What if my car magically runs out of gas? What if there’s some catastrophic accident on the road that will delay me for forty minutes? Yes, I should leave now just to play it safe.

Damn. Logic has completely left my brain. All that’s left are nothing but an aching libido and flaming nerves. I should definitely leave now or risk suffering a subdural hematoma right here in my apartment.

It never hurts to show a picture of Kim Perez, does it? No, it certainly doesn't.

It never hurts to show a picture of Kim Perez, does it? No, it certainly doesn’t.

Before departing, I check my e-mail one last time to make sure I have her room number. Room 132. Okay…I’ve looked at Google Maps enough times to know where this hotel is like the back of my hand, so I’m golden on that front.

Alright. Time to go!

No more than twelve minutes later, I’m sitting in the parking lot of the hotel where GFBB is staying. Yikes! This shit is getting real! And to think that this Beautiful Muscle Goddess is a within shouting distance of where I live. Hot damn. I feel like a teenage girl about to meet a heartthrob pop star for the first time. If my voice starts to squeak indeterminately and I get the sudden urge to pass out, I’ll know why.

What time is it? Hmmmmmm…6:19.

6:20.

6:21.

6:22.

6:23.

6:24.

Holy hell. Could time move any slower?!!!

Seriously. Time could not move fast enough. As I sat there, in my car, on an overcast day in the Pacific Northwest, I began to think: Is she with a client right now at this moment? If not, could I text her right now and perhaps get a good fifteen or twenty minutes of extra session time with her? Speaking of which, is she a clock-watcher or is she very loose with how long these things last? Am I her last appointment of the day or does she have three or four other horny guys scheduled later this evening? Could some of her other clients be sitting in their cars right now, twiddling their thumbs, just like me? What if–

You know what? Screw it! I’m going to text her. I know it’s early (by the time I make this decision, it’s about 6:45), but what the hell? I’m here, aren’t I? I was told to text her just as soon as I got here, so I might as well follow along with her directions.

Nikki Fuller is one of my all-time favorites. Need I explain why?

Nikki Fuller is one of my all-time favorites. Need I explain why?

So, I texted her to let her know I was here.

A few moments later, she replies, saying “Ok u can come to my room now.”

Well, if the lady says so…

I got out of my car, locked the door and made the “long” trek (it felt long, okay!!!) to the entrance of the hotel. Thankfully, there weren’t a whole lot of people around, except for an older Asian couple who looked as though they just arrived in town. I quickly entered the hotel, intentionally avoided making eye contact with the front desk staff and took a sharp right turn toward her room.

On one hand, I want to look like I belonged here; but on the other hand, if they don’t remember me, would they ask me what business I had being here? Better play it safe and speed walk while keeping my head down. It probably isn’t too often when a random dude comes in to their premises to meet a strange woman for a sexually-charged muscle worship session.

Walking down the long corridor, complete with a dark red carpet and Seattle-themed artwork, I decided to use the bathroom before knocking on her door. Whenever I get really nervous, I get the urge to pee. Better do it now versus wasting time later using the toilet during my session!

This is Sarah Hayes. Baby got back, n'est-ce pas?

This is Sarah Hayes. Baby got back, n’est-ce pas?

Minutes later, I left the bathroom and proceeded forward to meet my Fate. I felt like a death row inmate making his last trip down the prison hallway before being electrocuted. Overdramatic? Of course. But if there’s ever an occasion to be unapologetically theatrical, now is the time.

I stood in front of room #132 and took a deep breath. This is it, Ryan. This is the moment you get to meet up close and personal (and hopefully, get really personal later on) with a famous female bodybuilder who’s strong, gorgeous, accomplished, well-regarded and amicable. This is it, buddy!

Another deep breath.

Exhale.

Extend hand.

Make a fist.

Knock on the door.

Wait.

The door then opens.

It creeks open ominously, almost romantically, as if I were a lost prince exploring a magical castle in a Disney movie.

I peeked my head inside to see who opened the door. Is it her? Is it–

And there she is.

There she is.

There. She. Is.

THERE. SHE. IS.

Holy cow. Holy mother of mercy. Wow!

I only have one word to describe this moment:

Damn.

Continued in Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Three)