Here's something new. I always fantasized about a woman being my equal. She would be shorter than me, but just as much muscle, and just as strong. I'm not a bodybuilder, but I work out, and think I look o.k. I have a home gym in our basement where I lift. (this is where it gets fictional)
My wife comes down one day and wants to work out with me. "O.k. I'm doing bench press today, how much do you think you can start with?" I ask her. " How about an easy 135lbs?" she says. "yeah right, you can't bench that. This is only the warm up. 135 is what I use; but if you want to try, go for it."
She takes off her shirt, wearing just a sports bra, I notice how muscular her arms are, her abs aren't ripped but you can see the outline of each muscle including the obliques and the little V shape going down under her workout tights. Her shoulders are broad and shapely, with a little definition exposing each of the three heads. She lies down on the bench under 135 pounds of steel and lifts it off easily. My heart flutters and I become a little bit scared as she rips out 10 easy reps. " no way is my wife stronger than me" My turn. I match her ten. Now lets add some weight. 155lbs.
I've never seen a woman lift this. Again 10 reps, this time with some effort though. She sits up on the bench and takes some deep breaths. Her chest expands and I notice her pecs are filling with blood creating a nice separation line running down the center of her chest. Again I match her ten using the same amount of effort.
175lbs.
I stand over her to spot the last three reps of her set of ten. Her face is straining, moaning and grunting out the reps. The veins in her neck are popping out. I notice her hands gripping the bar with all their might. Her fingers are thick and vascular leading down to ten perfecting manicured fingernails. The contrast between muscularity and femininity is such a turn on. Can I do a set of ten with 175? I may get out matched by my wife; but I pull it off with a little bit of help on the last three. "didn't know I was that strong, did you?" she asks "hell no." I reply. Instead off my wife trying to match my strength, ( i never thought I would say that) I feel I am trying to match hers. " I wonder if I am stronger than you?" she asks. "lets try to max out" As she loads the bar with two 45 pound plates on each end.
225lbs!
Now I am scared, I can bench this, but how many times? Can my wife really bench 225? And for how many reps? She looks so confident as shes loading the bar. Throwing 45lbs plates around like they are nothing. Her arms are bulging out now. I have to feel them, they appear to be the same size as mine. It takes my entire hand to wrap around her bicep. She gives me a smirk and a little flex of her arm, her bicep pops as a little vein pushes its way to the surface of her skin. The reality that my wife is as strong, if not stronger than me is sinking in. Frustrated and embarrassed, yet turned on, I stand behind the bench as she sits down in front of me. Her back is so wide, stretching the straps of her sports bra out. It was not designed to hold traps like these. Little beads of sweat are forming on the back of her neck. She lies down, grabs the bar, I help her lift it off the rack. Slowly she brings it down to her chest and powers it up. One, Two, Three... no longer embarrassed, I'm now cheering her on. "come on!" I yell. How many can she do? four, fiii-ve, she needs some help, "one more!" The bar goes down to her chest. She gives a little wiggle. Her arms are shaking, I steady the bar as it slowly comes up. Six! Her arms fully extended, drops the bar back on the rack with the sound of clanging steel, it seems the shack the entire house.
Now we go back and forth, benching. I'm able to match her each set, but just barely. I'm getting tired.
255lbs 4 reps
275lbs 3 reps
Have you ever seen a woman bench 300lbs?
I have. It was my wife.
Three 45 pound plates on each end.
305lbs!
I want to go first. This is more than I have ever attempted. I lift the bar up with some help from my wife. Her hulking silhouette standing over me, spotting me. I bring the bar down. The weight is immense, my back arches, my arms quiver, I get it half way up. I can't do it. "help" she grabs the bar and helps me bring it back up to the rack.
I failed at 305.
"oh shit!" I'm in trouble now. Its my wifes turn. If she gets this up, that means she's stronger than me. I'm pretty competitive, but I want her bench this. The possibility that my wife is stronger than me is something remarkable. I try to pump her up. She dances around the room, punching the air, pounding her chest. She has entered some kind of primitive state. Grunting, almost possessed, she slams down the bench. Grabs the bar, pulls herself up and down. She growls like a mad dog bearing her teeth. Before I know it, the bar is up. She brings it down, bouncing off her chest. With all her might slowly it comes up. Half way... almost there... her elbow straighten out... and its up! Oh ,my god! my wife has just out benched me!
Wanna know what happens next?