Muscular Introduction Pt. 01

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“One more rep Sarah”, John shouted in my face. I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes as I somehow found a last reserve of energy to straighten my arms. What felt like pure agony burned across my chest and biceps as I pushed the weight up for him one final time. I felt my abs tense and finally that flow of endorphins hit me as my arms straightened, I opened an eye and looked at his face. The tears in my eyes clouded my vision, but I could see his pride, as he took the weight from me and put it safely back.

“That was fucking awesome babe”, he exclaimed, as he leant over and helped me sit up. “I am so damn proud of my little muscle girl.”

Muscle girl I thought, yeah right, I was eighteen and we had only been dating for a couple of months. Physically I was as far removed as a muscle girl as you can get. Short with very feminine curves but maybe carrying a couple of pounds too many. He was an aspiring bodybuilder who worked as a doorman at the bar I served at. John was a few years older than me, and my first real serious boyfriend. I had moved into his flat after only a few short weeks together.

My entire fitness regime before we met had been based on sitting in lycra smiling at the muscular boys in the gym, but now after only a few weeks, he had convinced me to actually start lifting weights in the gym too.

I grinned at him, or at least I think I tried, my entire body still shaking from lifting my new personal best five times in a row. He stepped closer to wrap a strong arm around me, and as he held me, I could feel the hardness in his gym shorts resting on my chest. Wow, I thought, as the hard length pushed against one of my nipples, guess he really did appreciate my efforts. I put my arms round his broad back, his pronounced muscles hard like steel in my hands.

“Thanks…”, I breathed heavily, sweat pouring from my brow, “I just…”, I tried to say as he lifted me up to my feet.

“Don’t say a word Sarah,” he said softly, “you’re doing so well”.

As he held me, I looked over the gym and felt crushed.

Across the large community run gym was his Mum, effortlessly curling 100 pound dumbells in front of the mirror. Her biceps swelled hypnotically, before the triceps exploded again – it looked like they were fighting under her tanned skin. Her lycra clad body looked as pristine as when she had entered the gym an hour earlier. Turning slightly I looked at the benchpress I had just completed, damn – I was literally killing myself lifting the same as she curled with one hand.

She had turned fifty only a few weeks ago, but her body was like that of a woman half her age. Her blonde hair short and cropped in a severe bob, a deep tan that accentuated her muscular physique and a Celtic-inspired tattoo that ran from the side of her abs and down one leg.

Breaking away from him I limped to the change rooms. Ashamed of my thin, tiny body I wrapped myself in a towel and hung my head wanting the world to swallow me up. Sat on my own in the changing room for around twenty minutes, whilst my boyfriend and his Mum finished their work out. I thought about my body in comparison to hers, the stillness and quietness of the room helped me to focus my thoughts.

I started to think about John, my boyfriend, straining to lift the heaviest weights he could manage. His face turning red, as he strained every sinew.

I thought about Amanda, his Mum, encouraging him, before she picked up the same weight and matched his reps. Her ice-cold expression not changing as she robotically banged out rep after rep. The striations of her pecs, visible through the tight crop top she wore, each rep pushing her muscles tighter against her clothing.

I thought of them standing next to each other flexing their arms in the mirror. Her perfectly cut biceps, splitting like an anatomical drawing. Her fawning gaze at John’s big biceps.

I thought of those little looks they gave each other…

“Get some focus Sarah”, I told myself. “You’re an eighteen year-old woman with a fantastic slender figure. You could have your pick of the guys in the bar. You have a gorgeous boyfriend, your work is going well, and life is good.”

I removed my sports bra and put it in my bag, bending down I unlaced my shoes, and pulled my shorts and panties off. Giggling, I grabbed my breasts and thought “have that atakent escort Amanda, why have pecs when you can have proper titties!” and walked to the showers.

I looked at the two shower cubicles, and then the large communal area. “Damn it”, I thought, “I’m not hiding away”. And turned on the water in the communal shower.

I heard the door to the gym slam open and right on cue thirty seconds later Amanda walked into the communal shower. She pulled her tight lycra off and threw it in the corner, flexing her arms and grunting slightly as her hand squeezed her own thigh

She didn’t say a word, as she stood a couple of feet to my right, with her back to me. The water was cascading from her head and running down the thick trapezius muscles that seemed to pull her shoulders apart. The water then coursed down and seemed to fly off her lats, leaving her ass almost dry.

Taking her shower gel, she reached behind herself and started to massage the soap into the small of her back. Her triceps pumping like pistons as she worked the soap in.

I was transfixed. I was used to seeing John’s muscular body, but this seemed stronger, bigger more erotic. I had never thought of her like that before.

I don’t know why, but I took a step forward and with the flat of my hand I rested it on her muscular ass. It didn’t move, as I tried to squeeze my hand around her ass cheek, my painted finger nails digging into the granite like muscle.

It felt like time stopped, my hand on her muscular ass, the warm water from the shower cascading from her body and splashing my bare breasts and face. I was so close to her that I could smell the soap on her huge fifty year old body.

What the hell was I doing.

I could feel the muscles in her ass tense, her glutes contracting, and hardening, my finger nails sliding on the wet skin.

“I’m sorry”, I blurted, quickly pulling my hand away. I could feel my face reddening with embarrassment. Before I was able to even think about stepping back, she spun round and grabbed my wrist and bent it backwards, dragging me towards her. The water from the shower deflected from her showers and sprayed my face, I could feel an agonising pain in my hand and whelped pathetically.

Through partly closed eyes, I could make out of the outline of her nipples, which were level with my eyes. “Sarah”, she purred softly, “did you just touch my ass?” Her hand tightened slightly on my wrist and I could see her bicep start to harden. She kept the pressure steadily increasing, her fingers gradually pulled my hand back.

“No!”, I exclaimed, “well yes, but…” Damn my hand really hurt.

She continued to steadily push my wrist back with her left hand, her left pec tightening and striating as she increased her pressure. I could now feel real pain in my wrist, and tried to pull my hand away, but she kept me held tightly.

“Yes, you did.” For the first time her ice like demeanour lightened and she smiled. “Did you want to worship these muscles?”. She ran her right hand lightly over her eight pack abs before flexing her arm. The water ran like small rivers down her toned abs, before escaping over the hairy mound of her pussy.

“No”, I said quietly, afraid to look into her eyes, and trying to stop gazing at her pussy.

I didn’t want to worship her, did I? She was huge and ripped, permanently looking like she had just stepped off a national bodybuilding stage. But I was straight, I didn’t find her sexually attractive. I mean, I appreciated her dedication. I fancied some abs on my body, but me and Amanda getting it on – no way! If I wanted muscles, I would feel up my boyfriend John. Maybe that was it, after all I loved his muscular ass too.

Her face hardened, “so if you didn’t want to worship me, you must have wanted me to dominate you?” She dropped my wrist and as I rubbed it, she span me round and grabbed my ass with one hand.

Her hand covered my ass cheek, and I could feel her powerful fingers dig into my hip bone. “Did you dare to touch mistress without permission?”, she hissed in my ear. She slapped my ass with her other hand and grabbed the cheek tightly.

“Ouch!”, I shouted, as I still rubbed my aching wrist, “you’re hurting me.”

“That’s the idea though isn’t it Sarah? You ataköy escort want to have me dominate you, overpower you, control you with my muscular body”?

Damn, was she for real. Or was she playing with me?

“No, no Amanda”, I stammered, feeling a little concerned.

“Thanks OK then, just checking!”, she said brightly and released my ass. “And I recommend adding some deep squats to your workout, you ass is skin and bone girl.” Amanda walked out of the shower and I breathed out. I suddenly realised I had been holding my breath since she grabbed me.

Feeling a little unsteady, I walked slowly to the end of the communal showers and turned the water off. I half turned and caught my reflection in a mirror. I could see the large red hand prints from Amanda on my ass. I felt a small shudder of excitement, before grabbing my towel and going back to get changed in the empty changing room

Driving back from the gym with my boyfriend John, I did not say much. My mind was still in a whirl after touching Amanda’s hard muscular ass. Was she playing with me, or was I playing with her?

Getting changed at record speed, I saw John putting his phone away.

“I’ve ordered pizzas for dinner”

“Perfect”, I responded, my heart still beating hard. I didn’t know what to say or how to look at him.

Would he guess I had these thoughts for his Mum? Would he think I was acting weird? I shook my head and we drove home in silence, stopping to pick up the pizza on our way.

Back at his house, he went straight to the kitchen with the food, something troubling him. Was my behavior weird? Could he tell something had happened? I needed to do something, something to make things seem more normal.

I removed my shorts and panties and taking a deep breath walked into the kitchen and pulled his T-shirt off him, as he sat at the dining table focused on the food, my hands running over his broad shoulders. He smiled and turned his head to face me, as I lent down and kissed him deeply.

Moving around him I pushed his plate to one side and sat on the table, facing him. I put the hot pizza box on my legs, opening its lid and with a wink I also opened my legs wide and said, “Dive in honey.”

He smiled, one hand running along my thigh, the other taking a slice of pizza. I moved my shoulders, letting the loose tshirt that I was still wearing slide down and pushed my tits together with my arms. His fingers traced round my labia and I shuddered in pleasure. “God, your soaking babe”, he said a mouthful of pizza.

“I said I was horny.”

“No, you are absolutely dripping, jeez what has happened to you?”

“I don’t know, but I really, really want to fuck.”

He looked at me, only a pizza crust left in one hand and his other hand teasing my clit. Without taking his eyes off me, I felt him gently part my labia and then pushed the pizza crust inside me. I groaned, it was still hot, the edges were rough inside me and I shuddered. As he pulled the pizza out he offered it to me. I could see it was slick with my wetness and took a bite.

To be honest, it tasted fucking awful, but he looked at me with lust as I ate if from his hand. Throwing the pizza box on the floor, I lay back on the table and parted my legs wider.

Finally, he was ready for me and without any pretence at foreplay, just pulled his shorts down his legs and drove his hard dick inside me and held it there. It was so brutal and unsexy the way in which he did it, but it felt fantastic. I squirmed on the table, my hands reaching out for his muscular arms. God this felt good, what I had wanted, not his Mum..

He slowly pulled himself back and then powered into me again, pushing against me. I moaned slightly and looked up at him.

“Is this how you want to be fucked”. He said in a deadpan voice looking down at me.

“Yes, but harder.” I said my voice trembling slightly.

He lent over me his right hand grabbing my tit painfully and slammed himself back into me harder.

I gasped, “Harder!”

He pulled back and pushed into me even harder, his fingers finding my nipple and twisting it. As he started to speed up, I caught his eye and he moved his arm across my throat and started to fuck me harder and faster.

I spluttered, “Yes”, atalar escort as he fucked me the hardest we had ever fucked. I could see a thin sheen of sweat on him, as he pinned me to the table, my breathing becoming a little more ragged. The sound of my wetness still audible over his masculine grunts.

“Fuck yes!”, I shouted as i started to cum again, spraying his toned abs with my cum. As it splashed more, I could feel it leaking down my legs and dripping onto the dining table. He was in his own world, fucking me as hard as he could. With three more animalistic roars, his face reddened and his cum hit hard inside me.

As he stood with his now softening dick inside me, I pushed him away, sitting up, his warm cum running from me. I put my head down and started to lick his dick clean, sucking every drop of cum.

Breathing heavily he said, “that was wild honey.”

“Just what I needed.”

We looked at each other as I wiped his dick on my chin, before I jumped off the table, pulling my tshirt straight and putting my knickers and shorts back on. John’s seed warm inside me.

After we ate what was left of dinner John had to go to work and wouldn’t be back until four in the morning. I sat alone with the TV on quietly, it was my night off, but I wasn’t really watching it.

In the stillness of the room I thought about Amanda’s ass again. The tight muscles so toned and tight, the warm water of the shower running over them. Without thinking about it, I pushed my hand inside my shorts and felt my clit with a finger through my panties.

Her muscular ass.

I slowly rubbed myself

I could still feel John’s cum inside me.

Her toned, muscular ass.

I moved my panties to one side and pushed a fingertip inside myself.

But John’s hard dick slamming into me was so good.

Yes, the back of her huge quads, so hard, so powerful.

I felt my wetness and moved my finger over my clit, slowly rubbing a little faster, my breathing getting a little deeper.


Shit, someone at the door. Jumping up quickly, I rearranged my underwear and ran to the door

Of course…

“Hi Amanda”, I said brightly, as if nothing had happened earlier.

“Hi Sarah,” she said with a half smile. She was dressed in a red tracksuit, zipped up to her neck, matching red sweatpants clung to huge quads. “I thought we should clear the air honey, and with John working, I thought this was the ideal time.”

“Of course, babes”, I gushed.

Amanda walked in and put her bag down by the front door before walking into the lounge.

Without saying a word, she put her hands on her hips and straightened her arms, pushing her shoulders back. Whilst she didn’t have large breasts, her pecs were considerably over developed and strained at her red tracksuit. She kept pushing her shoulders back, her hands tight on her hips. I heard her shoulders crack slightly as she strained before a slight rip across the zip in her tracksuit appeared.

She then lifted her arms, flexing her biceps in front of her chest, pushing her pecs forward in a most muscular pose. The red tracksuit ripped some more, displaying her bare shoulders and the top of her pecs.

With a nervous shiver, I placed my trembling hands flat on her pecs as she flexed harder. Amanda lifted her arms above her head, shredding her tracksuit top, before lowering her arms and wrapping them round me.

I looked up at Amanda, a knot in my stomach. Was this erotic, was this just plain wrong?

“Do you like this Sarah?”

“Yes”, I whispered, the knot getting tighter.

“Does my body turn you on?”

“Yes”, I whispered, I was in too deep now to say no.

She grabbed me a little tighter, her strong arms lifting me off the ground, my tshirt covered breasts pressed against her hard pecs. “Does it turn you on more than John?”

I looked at her and gently placed a hand on the side of her face. My stomach felt tight, nerves hit me, I didn’t know what to say, but the words “Yes, it does Amanda” came out of my mouth.

She bent her head slightly and kissed me gently on the lips, before lowering me to the ground. I slid my hands over her pecs and down the side of her obliques, kissing each of her abs in front of me. It seemed as though my movements were on autopilot. I worshipped John’s muscles in the same way.

“Tomorrow Sarah, come to my apartment after work, I want us to…”, she stopped and kissed me again, “…play.”

I looked at her as she stood in front of me, so big and dominant. “Yes”, I stammered.

Amanda walked past me and without saying a word walked out of my house bare chested and got in her car.

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