Working Out An Appetite


Are you a guy or a girl at the gym trying to get your fitness on? Do you notice someone checking you out, trying to decide whether he’ll come and talk or not? Is this person quite annoying to you? or Do you love attention?
What is this, you ask yourself… I am a piece of meat at the supermarket that you’d like to get your hands on?  If this is how you usually feel at the gym, then you and I are the same.
I recently decided to sign up at the gym because I finally felt that my body could endure and grow from new strain. I have spent many months trying to gain weight and get back into shape with Yoga alone, thinking that at least it would be a good starting point for when I would begin weight lifting again. My body is getting stronger and, while I train my little muscles, my instincts are sharpening.
Working out helps you keep your daily life on track. It makes you feel happier, perhaps because your body is secreting more endorphins after a good amount of strain. It keeps you motivated, stronger and builds a stronger brain. It also helps healing inflammatory diseases for the most part and increases blood flow and circulation, which is good for your little heart. And we all know what happens when blood flows with vigor into each corner of your body, don’t we?
Little old me is becoming a “stronger man”, and I am happy to get some sort of instant gratification while glancing at the many strikingly good-looking men who’ve joined as well. I can’t even complain about the closure of Craigslist’ personal pages since it forces people to interact in close conditions rather than using their keyboard. Call it instant gratification, because these guys also tend to eye me out in return. I’m not as vain as my writing tends to read, but I do think everyone should enjoy this sort of attention once in their lives and not brush it off. Especially since you’re fucking worth it.
Whether it is their noticing my new haircut or my nipple hanging out the side of my camisole, or the sometimes sudden butt curl from low-bending and lower-back lifts, I definitely have noticed the casual peeks. It also helps that the new gym I train at is a newly built location because it seems to attract what to me as the one pool of men I actually find tasteful. These guys are up to standards, to say the least.
In case you are wondering, I tend to like my men with dark hair and eyes and handsome facial features. Picture Henry Cavill on his off days (when he’s out running for charities), Cho Jung-Seok (A Korean Actor, check out Oh my Ghost on Netflix), Matteo Lane (NY Comedian and comic drawer, you can check him out on Insta), Anthony Padilla (Extra Bae Youtuber with Majorly sexy curls) or even Jhona Burjack (Mega Models). The list goes on.
You could say that I’m enjoying the pound and the ham in one sitting. I almost forget how Christmas makes me feel at this point. Lazy me is satisfied like a kiddo licking the ice cream cone drippings off of his hands on a hot summer day in the park. If there is a God, he is answering one of my heart’s little desires. If there is no God, I have a guardian angel working overtime in order to give me a reason to cheer. Now if only the men would interact rather than sit back.
At times, I wonder how obvious my stares are. I probably am not alone out there wondering about “staring” etiquette, but for good measure, I was told that staring is impolite. My eye could linger on a guy’s muscular body for a short moment as if I have onset Ophthalmoplegia. Am I being promiscuous? Have I some built up libido inside? Do I have too much testosterone? I examine my pray from head to toe: his skin, his build, his dress, his overall aura. A splash of Teriyaki sauce would taste so good on his bicep.
Should I go ahead and be flirty for no other reason than to engage in some much-needed socializing, or should I be polite and keep to my workout? Maybe this chunk of meat could spot me while I squat. If I’m in a good mood, I could smile back at his eye in the mirror’s reflection. From then on, it’s game on.
If nothing happens and we both stay in our routines, but the guy keeps looking back at me while he pauses between two sets, I begin to ask myself many questions. Why do guys not approach me? Do I stink? Does he think he knows me but isn’t sure? Is my smile too much? Did I look like a total sweaty freak? Should I be having chicken and rice or a pizza for dinner?  I think at this point I’ve lost interest in the guy.
I must come across as a total tease, either because I normally don’t provoke meeting or conversation because I’m not sure the guy is into me or because he’s trying to figure out what exercise I’m currently doing. At this point in my workout, it’s beside the point really. Unfortunately for these guys who might want to get kinky later in the showers or opens Grindr to see I’m still in the area, it’s over. I have turned my attention toward better things.
As I lift my barbell, I daydream of chugging down a sparkling Apple Cider freshly cooled for maximum thirst quenching enjoyability with minimum effort needed. There’s also my hungry fork taking another bite into a moist and decadent Chocolate Cake, or into the freshness of a buttery and flaky Fruit Pie. Dirty little me finger dips into a fresh fix of Cilantro and Lime Guacamole. Then I’m holding a Cherry in my mouth to tie a knot, sucking away at the sweetness of its juices. Reaching for a thick serving of Brie Fondant à la Maple Syrup and Walnuts to spread on an oven baked baguette. Licking a spoon of Nutella straight out of the pot and passing it along. Sucking on an Orange-cream Popsicle until I reach the center. Squirting extra hot sauce on a savory and cheesy burrito to intensify the heat. Throwing handfuls of Jelly Beans into my mouth without caring about which flavor combo I’m going to end up with. Drizzling loads of butter pecan salted Caramel onto chewy strips of smoky beef jerky.
Put down the barbell. Head back to the locker room. Hurry up to change and wash my hands. I’m done at the gym for today.


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