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				<a id="mw-mf-last-modified" data-timestamp="1476654166" href="http://mulpwiki.org/index.php/Special:History/Anon_-_The_Big_Guy" data-user-name="HotRobotSlave" data-user-gender="unknown" class="top-bar truncated-text">Last modified on 16 October 2016, at 21:42</a>		<script>
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			<h1 id="section_0">Anon - The Big Guy</h1><ul id="page-actions" class="hlist"><li id="ca-edit" class="icon icon-32px icon-edit" title="Edit the lead section of this page."></li><li id="ca-talk" class="hidden icon icon-32px icon-talk"><a href="http://mulpwiki.org/index.php?title=Talk:Anon_-_The_Big_Guy&amp;action=edit&amp;redlink=1" title="Discussion about the content page [t]" accesskey="t">Discussion</a></li><li id="ca-watch" class="watch-this-article icon icon-32px"><a href="http://mulpwiki.org/index.php?title=Special:UserLogin&amp;returnto=Anon+-+The+Big+Guy" title="Add this page to your watchlist [w]" accesskey="w"></a></li></ul>		</div>
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<td><b>Writefag</b>
</td>
<td> FingerbangingMLP
</td></tr>
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<td><b>Pastebin link</b>:
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<td><a rel="nofollow" class="external free" href="http://pastebin.com/XB3AwQ7R">http://pastebin.com/XB3AwQ7R</a>
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<td><b>Pastebin creation</b>
</td>
<td>Saturday 25th of June 2016 01:57:39 AM CDT
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<td><b>Last Pastebin update</b>
</td>
<td>Saturday 25th of June 2016 01:57:39 AM CDT
</td></tr></table>

</div><h3><span class="mw-headline" id="Anon_-_The_Big_Guy">Anon - The Big Guy</span><a href="Anon_-_The_Big_Guy#/editor/1" title="Edit section: Anon - The Big Guy" data-section="1" class="edit-page icon icon-32px icon-edit enabled">Edit</a></h3><div>
<div dir="ltr" class="mw-geshi mw-code mw-content-ltr"><div class="gettext source-gettext">&#160;<br />�<span class="co4">&gt;Testosterone in a syringe; that's how I start this morning.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;A chill goes from my ass to my spine as the dark, murky liquid enters my system through a glute.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Inhaling sharply, I throw the empty syringe away. A ravenous feeling, hungry- horny- passes over me in a suffocating wave. I break out into a sweat.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Sporting a half length boner, I rush out of the bathroom, through the living room, and into the gym, my home gym. I immediately pump out some reps on the Bench Press, and then do some Incline Bench Presses, Chest Dips, and two variations of Curls. I follow all of this up with some weighted crunches. Each exercise is performed with multiple sets of repetitions.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Whenever I see myself in the mirror during rest periods, I smile, and flex. My body is chiseled, and stacked with muscle in all the right places. My erection doesn't go away.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;After I complete my exercise routine, I take a quick shower and then begin my facial routine: Apply cleanser, then lotion, and then add some foundation to make my face look smoother. After that, I use a darker shade of makeup to go around my jawline, making it look more defined, and thus, more attractive. Then, for the hair, I apply some minoxidil across the front of my scalp, specifically around the hairline. Can't let the steroids make me bald, after all.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Fifteen minutes later, I'm strolling down the sidewalk, clad in the standard purple blazer and dress pants of Crystal Academy. The blazer is stuffy as hell, especially now in the blistering heat of May- worse, it hides all my muscles, and makes me look like some sort of gangly faggot that doesn't even lift. Like the guy on the other side of the street.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;I peek at the man, standing on the sidewalk across from me. Just looking at this guy, I can tell he's a massive, flaming homosexual who probably fucks his dog at night. He stands there at the edge of the sidewalk, checking his shitty watch, no doubt waiting for the bus because he's too unathletic to get off his fucking ass and walk. Now that I get a better look at him, he's not skinny, but rather puffy- I can see the fat rolls through his black, cheap, shitty t-shirt, which is tucked into some atrocious looking jeans. His haircut is awful. He probably smells like shit.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;He sees me looking at him, and waves. I grit my teeth and keep walking.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Down a few streets, turning a block, and I arrive at my destination: Crystal Academy. I make sure to put on my best womanizing smile as I weave through the students.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;None of the males are as juicy as I, nor as handsome. The females are no doubt wishing I was their boyfriend, instead of whatever beta-bitch they currently have.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Hey, Anon!&quot; A light, girlish voice calls out to me.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;A boy around my age slides in beside me and smiles. He's an awkward, scrawny bastard who smells like shit, though I must admit his haircut is... decent. His skin is covered with acne and spots, and the bone structure of his face isn't very appealing- these two things make it very hard to look him in the eye without cringing.</span><br />&quot;How's it going-&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Forgot his name.</span><br />&quot;...Dude?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Not kidding here- the faggot smiles, and slaps me on the back, though with how fucking big I am, it feels like a pitiful gust of wind.</span><br /><br />� � <span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Four-thirty, after school.&quot; He slaps me on the back again. &quot;See you then?&quot;</span><br />&quot;Sure. Later.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Fucking asshole.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;He nods, and then slips back into the crowd- surprisingly, he falls into the middle of two girls, and they giggle as he grins at them. He whispers something into one's ear, and they both giggle again.</span><br />&quot;God damn, Anon's such a fucking loser.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Reading his lips, I'm sure that this is what he says. And the girls laugh at him, screeching like chipmunks. I rage; what would that fucking faggot's head look like on a stick? I could go over there right now, beat the shit out of him, and then show those two girls who the real loser is. Claim them as my own.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Sweat begins to pour down my forehead. With a sharp breath, I force my head forward and head inside the large school building. My biceps are looking nice today.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;It's after school- I'd say it's been thirty minutes or so since the bell rung, and I'm making out with this hot babe in the second floor supply closet. It's one of my ex-girlfriends, Apple-... something? doesn't matter. Her tongue and my tongue interlock, my heartbeat starts to increase, as does my hunger. Fuck, I mean, we've been making out for so long in this god damn hot supply closet. I'm sweaty- my penis rages against my pants like a one-eyed beast. I slip a hand towards Apple-whatever's ass.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Anon!&quot; She shrieks, and then backs away from me, into the corner of the closet. I'm left standing there, hand in the air, sagging, its mission failed, when I remember why exactly this girl is my EX-girlfriend.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;I sigh, my dick deflating, and start to pick up my blazer when I feel a hand grip my shoulder- which is, for your information, as hard as a rock. I make sure to flex it.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Wait, Anon, I'm sorry, you just?&quot; She pauses, her voice more whiny and unattractive than I remember it being a few minutes ago. &quot;You just have to give it more time, please, Anon?&quot;</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;I look at my blazer, and then towards my limp penis, towards the girl, my penis, and then back towards the girl. When I touched her ass, it was squishy- all fat.</span><br />&quot;Ofcourse.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;After that little interruption, we start making out again, but this time my dick refuses to get hard, and the whole time I'm thinking&#160;?What a chaste bitch.' It only lasts a few minutes, and then we head outside into the hallway. Before we part ways, she gives me a kiss on the cheek.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Does she think we're a couple now? Who knows. I start down the hallway, thinking about the meeting with the girl I'm seeing.</span><br /><br /><span class="co4">&gt;I go around the school a few times to lose squishy-ass, and then go up multiple flights of stairs and then a big, metal door. That's how I find myself on top of the school, surrounded by a chainlink fence and a girl that's obviously in love with me, sitting down in the only bench up here, positioned in the middle of the space.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;She's already looking my way. &quot;How's it going,&quot; she swallows, eyes darting to the side. &quot;Anon?&quot; Her voice, unlike that other bitch's, is sweet- smooth- doesn't want to make me saw off my fucking ears when I listen to it. This girl's name I can remember.</span><br />&quot;Ah, Twilight! Sorry I'm late! Ran into a bit of trouble with Mister Crag.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;The girl blushes and looks down, mumbling something incoherent. It's obvious she's in love with me- it's pitiful how obvious it is. Flexing my biceps and my chest, making sure to look as masculine as possible, I make my way over to the bench she's sitting at.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;I try to get a peek up her skirt as I pass in front of her, making my way to the other side of the bench, but alas, she crosses her legs. I hide my slight irritation with a smile.</span><br />&quot;You look nice today, Twilight.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;She blushes again, and then stutters, &quot;T-thank you.&quot; I make sure to slide in close as I pull out the topic of today's meeting- a book- a fantasy one.</span><br /><br />&quot;So, what did you think of the cliffhanger, eh?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Of course, I didn't actually read the fucking thing, I just googled some information about it. Reading the basic notes almost made me weep- I'd hate to think how boring it'd be to actually go through it.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;It was? so? intense! I totally didn't think that Matthew would be Night Striker all along!&quot; She sounds so excited. I smile. Her bare thighs are really nice. I flex my abs.</span><br />&quot;I saw it coming, you know? Remember?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;She looks me in the eye for a moment, and then back towards the ground. &quot;Oh? you did!&quot; With a gasp, she looks back up in amazement. &quot;I remember- it was-&quot;</span><br />&quot;Third chapter,&quot; I say, slowly nodding in satisfaction. &quot;The way Matthew talked to Jonathan at dinner- it was obvious to me.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;For a brief moment, I consider giving another one of my&#160;?predictions;' to say that Jonathan dies at the end, that his kids take up the sword which leads to the second novel, but I see Twilight's thigh again, and I restrain myself.</span><br />&quot;Great chapter. You didn't read ahead, right?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Of course not!&quot;</span><br />&quot;Sorry. Just making sure. Code of Honor and all that jazz.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;Talking with this woman is weird. She's clearly borderline autistic, or maybe full-blown, with the way she stutters and almost falls apart when I get too close to her. Every conversation I have with her has to be about this boring, tear-inducing book, or she'll just end up stumbling overself and start looking like an idiot. Maybe that's how anti-social people gap with normal people? Staying in their own&#160;?territory?' I remember my first attempt at talking with her- she literally ran away. I laugh aloud at the passing thought, and then Twilight looks down, embarrassed.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Y-You that part was? funny?&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Fuck.</span><br />&quot;Uhm, yes. I thought it? had a lot of comedic value, you know?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;I'm suddenly aware of how skinny- how faggy I look in this uniform.</span><br /><br />&quot;Especially the part? near the end.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;She gives me a strange look, and then intertwines her fingers, face reddening from, no doubt, looking at me.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;We talk about the book for a few more minutes, about how the main character will react to a plot twist, when the romance interest will really start going (she starts stuttering at this part), and how the main character's family will play a role in the story.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;It reminds me of history class.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;There's a pause in the conversation. At this point, I'm barely keeping my eyes open and my head upright, and I have to keep tapping my foot against the ground to keep myself from drifting away into sleep. I've had the same smile on my face for about ten minutes now, and face muscles are starting to ache- does it look strange? I wish I had a mirror now.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;Uh?&quot;</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;I flex.</span><br />&quot;Twilight?&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;My voice sounds a little tired, a little strained, but it doesn't look like she notices.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;I run a hand through my hair.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;&quot;See you? tomorrow?&quot;</span><br />&quot;Yeah.&quot;<br /><span class="co4">&gt;This isn't how this would happen in a movie. She should've waited a bit longer, and then asked with less awkwardness in her voice. I hold back a cringe. Is my hair okay?</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;Before she gets up, she freezes, staring at me, totally in love with me. Once again, I try to get a peek up her skirt, but it's too damn long. At least I get a good view of her thighs as she almost sprints across the rooftop, as if she were running away from something.</span><br /><span class="co4">&gt;I flex my right bicep, and then touch it with my other hand.</span><br />&quot;Nice.&quot;</div></div>




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