Us muscle enthusiasts all like different body parts... some of us are into chests, some of us are into biceps. Well, this is a blog dedicated to the best part of all the man-meat: muscle butt. Big, beefy, tight, round, full, slappable, grabbable, lickable, fuckable muscle butts... plain n' simple! There may occasionally be pics of other body parts for reference to a particular bodybuilder or model, but the emphasis will be on ass here :)
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Bend Over! plus a brief narrative...
a lot of people over the years have asked me when i first knew i was gay. a lot of other people have asked me why i am so butt-centric as to set up a whole blog for male ass. and a lot of OTHER other people have asked me why i am so fixated when guys bend over that i can barely speak.
the answer for all three questions is the same, and delves into "The Origins of O-Ren"... er i mean, The Origins of ParThanar (aka me). let me now transport you back to Maryland circa 1995...
i had always been swishy my whole life, but i "officially" found out i was gay in 8th grade, when i was 14 years old. this was in a part of Maryland that i call Craptown. it is semi-ghetto but also semi-uppity (so read: my middle school had the worst members of society congealing together, the rich bitch jocks AND the South Central thugs -- but that's another story).
anyway, sometime in the spring of 1995, i was in one of the hallways of my middle school, fetching a textbook or somesuch out of my locker. then this boy, this beautiful boy, came strutting down the hallway. he had dark red hair and violet eyes, a pale complexion and a sexy square jawline. i still remember his Elizabeth Taylor eyes, his icy, spectral, unknowable gaze, those two eyes the color of the woodland violets that peppered our football field and were systematically Glyposated into oblivion by the groundskeepers. i remember his eyes, and i also remember his body. his upper body was nothing to write home about, but from the waist down, he was built like a junior bodybuilder. massive thighs, calves like upside-down bowling pins... and this butt that can only be described as "two firm, unripe tomatoes pressed together."
i stood at my locker, mindlessly fumbling, as the Auburn Haired Boy approached a nearby locker, opened it, and promptly bent over to reach for something at the bottom of the locker. in that moment, my world became a slow-motion blur of denim and flesh. everything else faded away -- the bustle of students and teachers, whatever book i was looking for, life in general. all that existed was myself and AHB's butt, bent over in a pair of carpenter jeans (remember this is 1995, the height of Carpenter Jeans Popularity). it lasted only a few seconds, like the orgasm i had yet to experience. and yet each of those seconds was like a lifetime on earth. i remember being momentarily transfixed and confused, as if i was seeing not an object, but a glimmer of light like a descending angel. but then the flashing denim took form, and this perfect, young, beefy, muscular male butt was dancing in front of me, wiggling, squirming, like an autonomous creature of its own. i remember salivating, staring intently, unabashedly, completely incapable of wrenching my eyes away from this beautiful thing in front of me. i wanted to reach for it, touch it, and grab it. it looked so delicious and inviting, like a crystal pool on a hot day-
"whut r u doin u FAG?"
some douchebag from my Math class had finally noticed me staring at the beautiful Auburn Haired Boy's ass and decided to vocalize his thoughts. i turned scarlet and stammered, saying that i was zoning out because i had remembered something funny on "Herman's Head" or "My So Called Life," grasping at straws in a vain attempt to conceal my budding homosexuality -- a sexuality that would be repressed and guarded day and night for the next four years of my life. the would-be bully just shrugged and left. i was not popular in middle school, but i was not deeply unpopular either; on the food chain, there were several unfortunate souls more unpopular than me, who were the constant targets of the bullies and their anti-gay hate.
the Auburn Haired Boy was oblivious to the whole exchange -- my staring, the pseudobully's words -- and had found whatever Item he was looking for, closed his locker, and returned from whence he came. i never saw that boy again, because that fall my entire class was segre... excuse me, separated into different high schools, based more or less on socioeconomic status. the rich jews and asians (plus myself, who is neither a jew nor an asian) were sent to one school, and anyone poor or Of Color was sent to another. (this social stratification fell apart around my junior year of high school.) Auburn Haired Boy was poor, because he didnt resurface in my high school that fall. maybe he was killed by roving wolves. or maybe he just moved away, i dunno. but anyways, i never saw him again, a realization that inaugurated the first of a string of broken-hearted-nesses that came to characterize my high school experience. through obsessive attention to detail (aka stalking) and cross-referencing, i began to learn the names of the boys who secretly won my heart. Auburn Haired Boy was replaced with Todd, who was replaced with Trevor, who was replaced with Daniel, who was replaced with That Beefy Asshole On The Football Team With The Blond Hair (ok i didnt learn ALL their names -- sue me). all of my crushes shared one common thread... nice butts, butts that i stole furtive glances at whenever i could, desperate to understand not only them, but myself as well. in the end i would end up knowing none of these men, these callipygian angels who floated in a breeze of popularity and sports and friends and parties, oblivious to the thin, dark-haired nerd with the clothes from WalMart, hiding in the corner and patiently, desperately waiting for another book to get stuck at the bottom of someone's locker.
anyway, enough of my whining. onto the good stuff:
the answer for all three questions is the same, and delves into "The Origins of O-Ren"... er i mean, The Origins of ParThanar (aka me). let me now transport you back to Maryland circa 1995...
i had always been swishy my whole life, but i "officially" found out i was gay in 8th grade, when i was 14 years old. this was in a part of Maryland that i call Craptown. it is semi-ghetto but also semi-uppity (so read: my middle school had the worst members of society congealing together, the rich bitch jocks AND the South Central thugs -- but that's another story).
anyway, sometime in the spring of 1995, i was in one of the hallways of my middle school, fetching a textbook or somesuch out of my locker. then this boy, this beautiful boy, came strutting down the hallway. he had dark red hair and violet eyes, a pale complexion and a sexy square jawline. i still remember his Elizabeth Taylor eyes, his icy, spectral, unknowable gaze, those two eyes the color of the woodland violets that peppered our football field and were systematically Glyposated into oblivion by the groundskeepers. i remember his eyes, and i also remember his body. his upper body was nothing to write home about, but from the waist down, he was built like a junior bodybuilder. massive thighs, calves like upside-down bowling pins... and this butt that can only be described as "two firm, unripe tomatoes pressed together."
i stood at my locker, mindlessly fumbling, as the Auburn Haired Boy approached a nearby locker, opened it, and promptly bent over to reach for something at the bottom of the locker. in that moment, my world became a slow-motion blur of denim and flesh. everything else faded away -- the bustle of students and teachers, whatever book i was looking for, life in general. all that existed was myself and AHB's butt, bent over in a pair of carpenter jeans (remember this is 1995, the height of Carpenter Jeans Popularity). it lasted only a few seconds, like the orgasm i had yet to experience. and yet each of those seconds was like a lifetime on earth. i remember being momentarily transfixed and confused, as if i was seeing not an object, but a glimmer of light like a descending angel. but then the flashing denim took form, and this perfect, young, beefy, muscular male butt was dancing in front of me, wiggling, squirming, like an autonomous creature of its own. i remember salivating, staring intently, unabashedly, completely incapable of wrenching my eyes away from this beautiful thing in front of me. i wanted to reach for it, touch it, and grab it. it looked so delicious and inviting, like a crystal pool on a hot day-
"whut r u doin u FAG?"
some douchebag from my Math class had finally noticed me staring at the beautiful Auburn Haired Boy's ass and decided to vocalize his thoughts. i turned scarlet and stammered, saying that i was zoning out because i had remembered something funny on "Herman's Head" or "My So Called Life," grasping at straws in a vain attempt to conceal my budding homosexuality -- a sexuality that would be repressed and guarded day and night for the next four years of my life. the would-be bully just shrugged and left. i was not popular in middle school, but i was not deeply unpopular either; on the food chain, there were several unfortunate souls more unpopular than me, who were the constant targets of the bullies and their anti-gay hate.
the Auburn Haired Boy was oblivious to the whole exchange -- my staring, the pseudobully's words -- and had found whatever Item he was looking for, closed his locker, and returned from whence he came. i never saw that boy again, because that fall my entire class was segre... excuse me, separated into different high schools, based more or less on socioeconomic status. the rich jews and asians (plus myself, who is neither a jew nor an asian) were sent to one school, and anyone poor or Of Color was sent to another. (this social stratification fell apart around my junior year of high school.) Auburn Haired Boy was poor, because he didnt resurface in my high school that fall. maybe he was killed by roving wolves. or maybe he just moved away, i dunno. but anyways, i never saw him again, a realization that inaugurated the first of a string of broken-hearted-nesses that came to characterize my high school experience. through obsessive attention to detail (aka stalking) and cross-referencing, i began to learn the names of the boys who secretly won my heart. Auburn Haired Boy was replaced with Todd, who was replaced with Trevor, who was replaced with Daniel, who was replaced with That Beefy Asshole On The Football Team With The Blond Hair (ok i didnt learn ALL their names -- sue me). all of my crushes shared one common thread... nice butts, butts that i stole furtive glances at whenever i could, desperate to understand not only them, but myself as well. in the end i would end up knowing none of these men, these callipygian angels who floated in a breeze of popularity and sports and friends and parties, oblivious to the thin, dark-haired nerd with the clothes from WalMart, hiding in the corner and patiently, desperately waiting for another book to get stuck at the bottom of someone's locker.
anyway, enough of my whining. onto the good stuff:
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