+Notable Author: [P.E. Sherman] Stories~collected

[LordDaroth]

 

Stories in this collection:

Anatomy Class

The Secret of Contestant Number Twenty-Three

TV Night

muscles, sex and television

Mike and Jessica

Haley


Heres a story that I had saved, but I have no idea where I got it. Its literally nowhere on the internet. The mystery is killing me, but I thought its better if I share it. Enjoy

Anatomy Class
by P.E. Sherman

What were these girls eating? Andrew asked himself. He scanned around the auditorium-style college classroom, classroom P-one hundred and ninety-one, and noticed he could count all the males in the class on one hand: himself. He was sitting closer to the back, where the large double doors were, and hundreds of seats sloped down, in a shrinking parabolic cross-section, to the stage floor, where the flat, four-legged wooden teacher's desk was, empty of any teaching materials. He watched as the classroom filled with hot, confident, chatty muscle girls strolling in past his desk in giggling girl packs, smelling like girls but looking more like linebackers in girl clothes, veiny biceps bulging like watermelons from their tan, pale, and chocolate muscular arms, broad shoulders stretching their blouses, shirts, and tops, and keg-like quads, flexing as they walked and stretched jeans, skirts and shorts. As they passed by each time their curvy, wide, muscular hips gently bumped his desk and lurched and bucked his body hard in his seat and an uneasy feeling began to enter his stomach.

He turned to his left and saw a very cute preppy blonde, muscular, sitting two seats away. She was wearing a shiny silver heart necklace around her meat neck with matched her silver bracelet and a bright yellow cardigan over a white blouse over her bulging, beefy torso. The yellow sunflower headband in her hair matched the bohemian earrings in her ears and, with her books and folders organized neatly into a pile on her desk, she looked like she had settled herself some time ago. She propped up her head in her hand and the muscles of her giant forearm flexed and rippled as she half-heartedly flipped through the full pages of a spiral notebook. The flexed biceps of her bent arms stretching the sleeves of her blouse to their maximum. She looked like a “Heather” or maybe a “Samantha”. Her wide shoulders barely fitting between her desk tapered to a relatively tiny waist. She covered her mouth as she yawned and her flexed bicep slowly tore through the weakest inside seam of her sleeve. In doing so, her other hand had accidentally knocked her pen off her desk that was sitting on the edge.

"I'll get it," Andrew said quickly, shooting to pick it up for her.

He held it out to her and, smiling, she plucked her shiny, expensive-looking pen from his fingers. "Thanks," she said, “I’m Heather.” and flexed her bicep for him, ripping through the remainder of her sleeve.

“Andrew,” he returned nervously. He went back to his desk and straightened up. He tried hard not to blush.

A disheveled-looking, tanned blonde in front of him, her hair messily pulled into a bun with a scrunchie, was wearing a large baggy grey sweatshirt with the words “Bellview-Larken College” in navy blue arching collegiate letters across the front with a matching pair of Bellview-Larken sweatpants and sandals. She sleepily rubbed her eye and looked as if she had just gotten out of bed only minutes ago. She had one small book sitting closed on her desk that didn’t look like the one Andrew had bought for the course. Wide round, shoulders poked through the ends of her sweatshirt, under a girthy neck and a fat, strongwoman face and Andrew could imagine the incredibly muscular body that had to have lain underneath.

He sat back in his chair. He couldn't believe it; every single girl around him was equally monstrously huge!

The Professor walked in to class. She was a older thin brunette lady with a stern, gaunt face, dressed in a formal suit. Her high heels clicked underneath her as she stepped briskly. Her stern face silently scanned the room from behind her glasses. She came and stood aside her desk, one hand on it, and faced the class. "Welcome, students! I am Professor Edna Mame. Welcome to the exciting world of Anatomy and Physiology. Yes, this class is required for every student. Yes, there will be lots of homework and tests. Yes, this class is taught in an unusual and different... fashion, and yes, for those of you come from… community colleges… you would do well to keep your guidance counselors on speed dial."
She made no effort to draw things out further. "You there! Boy!" She shouted into the audience. With her left hand at her hip, she pointed a finger of her right outstretched arm and hand straight at Andrew. The whole class turned and looked at him. She took a few steps forward and then fanned her hand out and down to her side. "Have you noticed anything yet?” Andrew looked confused. “Here, let me give you a hint."

Mame stepped forward with her other foot and brought her feet were together. "Lisa!" she called out.

"Ma'am!" a very buff brunette answered from the front row, near the center. She was huge just like the rest and had been very feverishly recording all of Mame's words into her laptop like a stenographer. She stopped when Mame had called her name.

"Lisa, a simple question dear," Mame asked, "Are you a girl or a boy?"

"A girl!" she answered smartly, smiling proudly.

"Very good. And how much do you weigh, Lisa?"

"Three hundred and thirty pounds this morning, ma’am!" Another proud smile.

"Well, well, aren't you a big girl. Three hundred and thirty solid pounds? One hundred and fifty kilograms? Are you sure that scale was accurate?"
“Yep, I measured myself on your scale, the one you use for this class.”
The faintest smile appeared on Mame’s face. She looked down at the arms of her protégé. "And how big are your arms?"

Her biceps had been stretching the tight sleeves of her blouse for some time now. She lowered the screen of her laptop. "Well, I guess that all depends, ma’am... relaxed or fully flexed?"

Mame put a hand to her chin. "Relaxed," she said.

"Twenty-four inches. You know, give or take a sixteenth of an inch for water weight."

"Twenty-four inches?"

"Yep."

"Twenty-four?"

"Twenty-four."

Mame set both hands akimbo now. "Interesting. And flexed?"

"Thirty-two inches flexed."

"And for those of us here who may not know what real thirty-two inch arms look like, can you flex it for us?"

Lisa extended her an arm and slowly curled it. Her bicep rose and balled and began to stretch the fabric of her shirt sleeve until finally, with a rip, her biceps tore through them. Mame’s eyes shot up to Andrew. "Get my point?"

She returned to the side of her desk. "That you, Lisa. And now by a show of hands who here can beat three hundred and thirty pounds, thirty-two inches?" Two hundred and forty-eight hands shot up, each on its own bulging, muscular arm connected to a linebacker girl. Only two hands remained absent: Lisa's and Andrew's.

Seemingly one by one, the girls began turning their heads to Andrew on their girthy, bulldog necks, throwing their attention to his flimsy, flesh-and-bone body, as if they were smelling for the first time the fresh meat in the room.

"Welcome to the true world of anatomy and physiology, boy. My world of girl muscle. And you're being here means that you're trapped in it as our guinea pig. Oh you should be very scared for yourself right now." She began to come forward. "See, every year I load this class with the biggest, strongest girls I can find." She crushed an ant crawling on her desk with a finger, "And one unlucky boy.

"And I've taken a liking to seeing how hard I can push the female physique." She slid the dead ant off her desk.

"Ladies!" Mame called to the class, "There are two things you won't be needing for this course: your textbooks, and your shirts!" Instantly, the classroom exploded with the sounds of girls happily ripping their massive, hulking, linebacker bodies out of their shirts. Andrew sat in the middle of it all, taking in all the brute strength and raw feminine testosterone that was now filling the room.

"Rule number one," Mame began, "Anatomy and Physiology is about the body, the raw human form."

Andrew bolted from of his seat. He was going to get out! He was going to survive! But, smack! He looked up. He had run into a solid, immovable muscles of a buff black girl who stood smiling, akimbo, towering over him. She easily shoved him back and he stumbled wildly, his arms captured on either side by two muscular twin redheads who held him up, his feet dangling above the floor. They giggled at his futile attempts to escape them, as if his puny body could overtake theirs. Trapped, he squirmed helplessly as the lesson began.

They began by removing his belt and dropping his pants to his feet. They stole his shoes and socks and left him in boxers. "Every A&P class has a dummy," Mame shouted, pointing at Andrew. "He is ours." The giant, shirtless girls gathered around him like a pack of wolves and grabbed different areas of his shirt and ripped it off of him, tearing it to shreds. "We are going to play with him, girls, and learn how his body works." Everywhere a sea of curious hands reached out to poke, prod, test, and touch him. He had no place to run and barely evaded their hands.

The hands of giggling girls groped him as if his body was on display for them, nothing off limits to their fingers. "So this is what being small feels like!" he heard some girl say. "Weak, real weak!" another chimed in from after her examination. Before long even his boxers were long gone and he was naked and on full display. He felt like a breadcrumb dropped onto an ant pile. He was hoisted up and rode on top of the sea of curious muscular girls, pulled this way and yanked that way. He struggled to keep limbs into sockets as multiple girls caught him in a tug-of-war over turns and dragged him around mercilessly. A girl launched him into the air and the sea of girls closed in around him. He had lost sight of the floor now and was being tumbled around their raised hands like clothes in a drier. He was too disoriented to find the ceiling or the floor. Trying to find something sturdy, Andrew hung on to body parts, clawed up six-packs, stuck to deltoids, anything to make the rollercoaster stop. They enjoyed throwing him up and testing how light he was, fought like cats over who would get to feel what, where, when. A blonde with highlights and blue eyes got a hold of him, easily lifted him overhead and tried to bend him backwards. A brunette put his head between her arms and squeezed as he pushed futilely against her big, hard obliques and ten-pack abs. A beefy Asian girl locked him between her absolutely huge legs and squeezed until another girl ripped him out claiming with an Australian accent it was her turn. She cradled him like a baby before he was stolen from her too.

Professor Mame’s face appeared in the mass of girls. She gripped Andrew’s member and pulled him back to his place on his feet. The girl-frenzy stopped. Andrew was dizzy, disoriented, and in pain. She opened her hand and looked down at what she had caught. A look of surprise filled her face. "Hmph," she said, "maybe I didn't make a bad pick after all." She looked around at the sea of now fully horny girls. "Ladies, I do believe that's all for today," she said. The girls wined as they turned and filed away to find their clothes. Andrew was regaining his bearings. "You," Mame said with another glance at his member, "Come with me." She turned around and led the way.

[Jeremy Lightning]

I have seen the name of the author before, but I think this is different from the stories that I have seen out of him in the past, but I liked this story a great deal. I love the idea of that kind of thing, of being surrounded with nothing but hugely muscled amazons, though it may get painful, I would enjoy it much more than not. k+!

[LordDaroth]

Also, heres this:

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[necro2080]

Yes, me too. I remembered that picture also when I read the story.

One more

>NSFW<



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[Red_Silver]

I think the images were inspired by that story at the time, the first time I saw the story was on © Saradas, but that was a while back. LordDaroth was nice enough to commission me for the inks and he did the colouring.

As you can see, the FORUM has a built-in blocker for
some specific "combinations of letters".  ***** and © Saradas will be substituted
when you type in the names of competing sites...so DON'T.

~Mod E15R91F

[LordDaroth]

Yeah, redsilver's art was all inspired by this story, and another named One Way Ticket. Could post that too, if people are interested...

Absolutely, the more muscle stories the better, in my opinion. k+!

Find it here:  You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login

[falzion]

I would guess that you found the story on the old B ra UU na website, which has been down for a while now.  That was the only place that I ever saw P.E. Sherman's stories posted.

[falzion]

Following up on the story posted by Solarian, here are several of P.E. Sherman's stories from the B R A W N A site that I saved before it went down.

The Secret of Contestant Number Twenty-Three
Submitted by P.E. Sherman
_____________________________

"Contestant twenty-three to room eleven, go get oiled!" a muscular coordinator shouted, "You're up in thirty!" She checked her watch and quickly scurried away. Number twenty-three strolled out of the crowd of muscle-pumping women, her crisp Olympia physique the obvious winner, dangerously stretching out a sparkling rhinestone bikini. She entered my room. Her muscle-marbled quads danced and rippled heavily as she strolled closer, her biceps ballooning as she gripped the towel around her neck, and I couldn't help staring dangerously long at her body. She reached into a duffel bag I assumed to be hers for a thermos and drank down the contents of it.

"Don't you think you should be a little more careful drinking that stuff day-of-show?" I asked flatly. “They screen here, you know.”

She looked coolly in my direction, as if not because of what I said but because she was finally choosing to acknowledge me that second. "What? Oh, not really," she replied, “There’s no steroids in it, but it could still help these puny muscles of mine.”

A surprised look ran over my face. "Puny muscles? Look at you! You're one deep breath away from snapping your bikini!"

She smiled and thanked me calmly for the nice compliment, showing a beautiful face and an absolutely beautiful smile. “You’re welcome," I said. "I just hope you won’t be too much for me to handle.” A strange look washed over her face and something sparkled in her eyes, as if she was noticing me warmly for the first time. “Too much for you to handle?”

“Well yeah," I agreed, "next to you I’m the puny one here” I thought I heard her give a weak moan and then she sauntered over and gave my butt a healthy squeeze.

“Hey! What in the world are you doing?” I asked in shock that someone I just met could be so bold.

She looked like she snapped out of a trance. "Sorry, sorry. Listen, there’s something you don't know about me. I-I lose control when guys notice I'm way bigger and stronger than they are. It makes me excited--real excited.”

I chuckled nervously. “You're, you're pulling my leg.”

“No, I’m serious! I don’t know why, but its been a problem ever since I was a little girl." She was unconsciously rubbing up against me now. I could feel her warm, hard body and her ice cold contest number button.

I backed up, hiding my erection, and cleared my throat loudly. “Well don’t worry about me taking advantage of you there, miss, miss--"

"Sarah McMann."

"Sarah." A moment passed in silence. "Well I'm Jeff Porter and for the record you’re too big for me.”

"Oooo," her giant legs rubbed together, "do it again." she didn't wait but wrapped her muscular arms around my head and gripped my hair in her hands. She was breathing heavier and was all over me now, taking me in. "Tell me again! Tell me I’m too big and strong for you!"

I broke out of her hug. "Wait, you are. You are too big for me, but what are you doing? You could probably rip me in half if you wanted to!" Her eyes shut and she moaned, as if I was pleasuring her myself. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held me tight. I tried in vain to push away against her tiny muscled waist. Her voice came from above: “We should stop this now before I lose all control."

“What? Stop what? What are you doing? You’re too big and you're crushing me!” Her body quivered. She tore my jeans off. "Stop it, Jeff! Stop it before it's too late!" Her hand slipped into my boxers and grabbed me, beginning to explore me with five adventurous fingers. "I'm such a bad girl! Bad girl! Naughty!” she shouted. She grabbed me in a fist and began to stroke me hard and firm. She spun me around and continued working. Her free hand slipped up my shirt pushed me back against her hard, vascular, contest-ready physique, her implants like pillows against my head. She began playing with my hairs. “Oh God, yes! A man admitting he’s in the arms of a big, strong woman!"

I reached back, feeling for an escape. Sarah beamed. Everything was rock hard muscle. "Glad you're enjoying them," she said. She spun me around and gave me her hot towel. "Here, it's got your name written all over it."

Her overhanging quads flexed as she spread her legs into an upside-down V. Her bikini bottom was like dental floss slicing her clit.

"Wow!" I shouted in awe, even spread her inner thighs touched.

She laughed, rubbing in between her legs, "I know. That's why I keep my legs nice and moisturized." She tugged on the towel when she said "nice" and "moisturized."

I started buffing her calves. She had the best looking calf muscles I'd ever seen. They were bulging hard diamonds, as if she could jump just by flexing them. “I worked hard for those, you know. I haven't been able to wear pants in years." she giggled. "Its okay if you want to feel them." She flexed them and waves of gross definition rolled over them, her calves popping out from her legs. I remained frozen with awe. She giggled at the dumbfounded look on my face and smothered my face in each calf.

After I finished with her calves I held my left hand onto her bulging right hamstring and wiped down her overhanging quads. She looked as if she could kick ten field goals with one kick. As I buffed them she told me how her max for squats in the gym was one thousand pounds.

"Unbelievable," I said, absolutely mesmerized.

"No," she replied, "What was unbelievable was that the bar didn't break it was bending so much! But I guess the five men on either side of me knew what they were doing." She smiled, telling me that after the show she'd show me.

She had been inspecting my craftsmanship on the powerhouses that were her legs the entire time. After I finished she took hold of my head and guided it to the round, uneven surface of her bubbling quads, flexing it bigger, more rippling, hard, overrun with tiny veins like grass roots. “Kiss it,” she said.

"Yes, ma'am!" I returned, kissing her as much as she would allow me.

"How does it feel to kiss so much concentrated power?"

"Incredible..." I said. It was like kissing warm iron.

After her quads I wiped to her inner thighs. The cloth became lodged twice between her and each time it took many tries before I could yank it back out. On the third time I had to yank it out the towel ripped and a good piece of it was left dangling between her thighs. I looked up to her and she smiled ready to laugh, shrugging her massive, rippling shoulders. "You tried your best."

"But my best just isn't good enough against you."

I asked her to lower her one-piece next so I could get to her torso and she complied, slowly peeling it off her muscled body like Syran wrap. Her abs ran below her one-piece all the way up to her pecs. I reached up and thudded down them, back up, and back down again.

"How strong are your abs?" I asked.

She smiled. "See for yourself. Hit me." She tensed her abs tight, "Hit me."

I looked at her, unsure.

"I'll be fine, little man. Trust me. Or, if you're scared..."

"I'm not scared!" I said, the testosterone taking over. I made a fist and socked her as hard as I could to her tapering stomach. All I heard was a dull thud. She didn't budge a single inch. Instead, she put her hands on her hips. "You can start whenever you're ready."

I looked at my fist then at her, dumbfounded. "Wait, you mean you did it already!? When?" she laughed.

"Stop it! One more time," I said, noticeably embarrassed.

"Okay, one more time, sure. Maybe you were just holding back too much." she playfully shrugged. "Don't hold back; lay it on me."

This time I struck her a direct hit. But, looking up, it was the same result.

"Hmm… are you sure you're not Left-handed?" she laughed.

While she was off-guard I fired a quick line of punches at her, but each one of them thudded off like bullets to Superman. Her steel stomach took every last one of them. She gave a long yawn and wiped her eye. "Well if you're not going to take this seriously, then there's no point."

My knuckles were on fire, as if I had just spend the past two minutes fighting against an unstoppable tank.

"I am taking this seriously! And those punches would have knocked out anyone else!"

She giggled, poking me repeatedly, "Tell that to my stomach."

I was in awe of this muscle Amazon. Slowly but surely she was making her point clear. Defeated I picked up the towel and wiped over her wide V-tapering waist and then lightly circled her outty belly button that was surrounded by muscle to spare. She squirmed and moaned. “Oooo... now that feels good,” she said. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't defeat this muscled Amazon but with one touch I could make her horny. I rose up to wipe around her breasts now round, free, and bouncing. I went to the back where her hard overhanging pecs met her large, obviously-fake implants. I wiped the sides, top, and bottom and she lifted her arms and began pistoning a powerful pec-bounce. "You know, there are perks to pleasing an Amazon," she smiled.

My hard-on trailed on her leg muscles as I went behind to start on the indescribable roadmap that of a back that rose in a V-taper. She pulled her hair to her front and I did my duty down to the sexy crook in the bottom of her back, and to the steel-hard butt that had turned her one-piece into a thong. From there I toweled her bulging triceps that were sharp enough to cut me open. "Would you like biceps with that?" she jokingly laughed as she curled her arms massive and her biceps shot up like two mini, softball-sized mountains. My towel scaled them to the top and got a good wipe over their eye-popping peaks.

Finishing with her sleeve-ripping shoulders I said “done,” allowing myself one last guilty feel of her muscles. After a few entertaining stretches, she sat herself down on a nearby chair and beaconed me to her with her calling finger. I went down on my knees in front of her. With her hands she sexily opened her bulging thighs and pointed to the center. I brought my head to harbor and she set me snuggly in, running her sweet, comforting fingers through my hair. “Thanks, sweetie,” I heard her say above, smelling the strong, sweet smell wafting from the large dark-spot in her one-piece. Her legs began to close in on me and her two hydraulic, fully-oiled thighs, what could have crushed a full-sized Sedan just the same, began to crush my skull instead. I thought I'd heard her say something else, but those words were completely drowned out by the unconsciousness that closed in on me that very second.

I wondered how much longer her one-piece would still be in one piece!

but I just love hearing you guys tell me I’m big and strong. I can’t help myself, she sang to my pressed ear

[falzion]

TV Night
By P.E. Sherman
_____________________________

Terri’s legs heated the inside of Keith’s, her quads tear-dropped and rippling under a pair of boyshorts stretched wide at the legs, showing a taste of her superior genetics and training. She rested her girlish head on Keith’s shoulders and below nestled her muscle-laden hardbody in his.

The television show on the flat screen went to a commercial break.

Keith replied by beginning to kiss the bullhorn traps in front of him that dug into the side of his girlfriend's neck.

Terri smiled as she scooted up in her seat. He watched the muscles flex on her neck and back as she did. "You know, I finally broke 100 for shrugs, babe. Can you feel it?"

"Oh yeah, I've never seen your body in such great shape. Maybe I should give up long-distance and join you in the gym."

She reached back an arm and playfully squeezed his traps. "You should, because I can't feel a thing."

She finally looked back when he had stopped for too long. He glared back at her with a disapproving "that's not funny" look. Then he gave her body a little shove forward and broke into a smile. "Okay, Wonder Woman. You know I can't get big because of track. Like Coach says:-"

"'More size, more wind-resistance'"

"Exactly. Although, between you and me, I don't think anyone's told him about his moustache." They both laughed.

She craned up and kissed him. "I love you just as you are. Don't ever change for me." Keith nibbled up her neck, her weak spot, till a low sigh escaped her lips. He reached for Terri’s lean cheeks and turned her lips towards him. They met and entered each other’s mouth. Keith’s right hand traveled over Terri’s thick six-pack stomach and his penis swelled against her lower back.

Terri reached her muscular arm back to Keith and gently gripped his hair in her fingers. "Is that for me, babe?” she giggled. “take off your shorts."

Keith ripped his shorts and boxers off of him. Terri removed her shorts and panties. The half-naked wall of girl muscle wiggled her round, muscular butt against him until she firmly captured his member between her strong cheeks. Then she began to slowly circle her hips, stroking slowly but firmly. Keith dug his fingers into the couch behind him. He struggled to keep control until Terri finally stopped. She looked back into his eyes over her huge, bulging traps, shoulders, and back ripping apart her taught, corrugated, white t-shirt with Hello Kitty across the front. "Ready to drill me, baby?" Terri asked rhetorically, smiling.

She turned onto her stomach and easily pulled his body on top of her wide, marbled back. Keith looked like a skinny boy riding a dangerous, meaty bull. He grabbed her tight muscle waist and she parted her veiny, meaty legs for him.

Slowly he entered Terri. She closed her eyes and gripped hard into the couch, feeling his all-too-familiar member slide into her tiny, tight, wet hole.

Her mouth broke open at the feeling of his huge member overpowering her tiny vagina.

He began to thrust into her until she screamed for more. He thrusted into her with all his might, hard and fast, and Terri’s body and the couch bounced with his rhythm. With her head back, she lifted her chin towards the sky and opened her mouth agape with sheer pleasure.

"Yes! Here it comes! Yes! Now! Please! Slow down! Yeess! Yeeeeeessss! Ahhhhh!"

She climaxed hard. Keith felt her vagina spasm and saw her giant, muscular body undulate in waves of pleasure. She rose onto her hands and collapsed back onto the couch, jamming Keith's member with a force that caused him to explode inside of her. She climaxed again, feeling hot cum splatter inside of her.

Slowly their orgasms faded and once again they found each other’s lips. As they kissed, their outline of white faded into blue, and Spongebob Squarepants showed on the television.

Keith straightened in his place on the couch, while Terri slid back into her spot and rested her head on Keith's shoulder. She ran her fingers through her wild hair, her large, veiny bicep balling up as she curled her arm. Leaning over to the floor, Keith grabbed the TV remote turned up the volume. All was quiet within the room again, save the hum of a ceiling fan and the television.

The two watched TV with each other, the blue glow of the screen dancing on their damp faces.

Keith took hold of Terri's hand, bringing it up to his lips, kissing the back of it.

"I love commercials."

Terri shifted in place. Keith was inside of her again, and had rehardened.

"I can’t wait for the next one," Terri said, smiling, still horny.

[JerusalemTulip]

I remember Arc posted this story here himself a year back or so.  It has always been one of my favorites.

[arcomniflash]

I had no idea that art was inspired by it.  That's pretty cool.

- Arc

[IBP]

Here is an alternative version of that story:

muscles, sex and television
by p.e. sherman
_____________________________

Terri felt calm and secure, while wrapped in the arms of her boyfriend of seven months. Her watermelon quads heated the inside of his legs, and they allowed his eyes a taste of her superior genetics. Her head lie gently resting in Keith’s shoulder, but below that, her body showed the fruits of her years of lifting.

The television program faded to commercial break, causing the couple’s blue outlines to fade into a white blend.

"I love commercials," said Terry, while aiming the remote at the television.

The television’s volume lessened.

"Me too," Keith agreed, while sweeping Terry's long hair over her developed trap.

Her neck muscles flexed as she lifted her head. Keith’s lips blazed a trail up her neck, causing a low sigh to escape her lips. She closed her eyes, feeling control slip away from her because of her boyfriend’s tongue. As he continued to work his way up her neck, her head turned towards him as she hungered for more. He began to travel to her ear. Slowly, her hand came and rubbed down his face. On route to her lips, he found her dimples; he felt her temperature rise. Her barreled chests heaved as she fought for more air.

Keith’s lips found Terry's. They tilted their heads and entered each other’s mouths, exploring every inch of their hot, playful tongues. Soon, she felt him swell against her.

Her hungry tongue licked her lip. "Is that all for me… ?"

She felt against it, pressing her shapely butt into its heat. "Mmmmm..." She locked it between her strong cheeks and began to stroke it that way; Keith dug into the couch with his fingers as she worked.

He struggled to keep control until she finally stopped. Turned back, she glanced seductively at him next to her giant, defined shoulders. "Ready to drill me, baby?"

He placed his hands on either side her of tight muscled waist and carefully positioned Terry over his member. She parted her legs wide for him, dripping onto his member like a leaky faucet.

He began to rise off the couch and slowly entered Terry. She closed her eyes tight and gripped hard into the couch.

Her mouth silently broke open in both surprise and pain as Keith continued deep into her. Terry’s fingers ripped the couch upholstery as she began to breathe hard and shallow because of the pain.

"OH MY GOD your huge!" She exclaimed.

He began to thrust into her.

"Yes! Ooh yes! YES!" She yelled. "Fuck me! FUCK ME!"

He thrusted with all his might, hard and fast, and Terry bounced with his rhythm. With her head back, she lifted her chin towards the sky and opened her mouth agape with sheer pleasure.

"Yes! Here it comes! Yes! Now! Please! Slow down! Yeess! Yeeeeeessss! Ahhhhh!"

She climaxed hard, falling onto and swallowing Keith's member with a force that caused him to explode inside of her. She climaxed again, feeling hot cum splatter inside of her.

As their orgasms faded, they once again found each other’s lips. As they kissed, their outline of white faded into blue, and the news showed on the television.

Keith straightened in his place on the couch, while Terry slid back into her spot and rested her head on Keith's shoulder. She ran her fingers down her long hair, her veined bicep rising as she curled her arm. Leaning over to the floor, Keith grabbed the remote increased the volume of the television. All was quiet within the room again, save the hum of a ceiling fan and the television.

The two watched the news with each other, the blue glow of the screen dancing on their damp faces.

Keith took hold of Terry's hand, bringing it up to his lips. He kissing it on the back.

"I'm telling you, Terry, I love commercials."

Terry shifted in place, finding that Keith was still inside of her, and still hard.

"Well I love your ‘soldier,’" Terry smiled, still looking ahead.

[IBP]

I have a few more: here's one of my favorites:

Mike and Jessica
by P. E. Sherman
_____________________________

“Mike, look!” Jessica said, lifting up her white workout top and lifting down her white workout shorts and contracting her abs for her boyfriend to see. “I have an eight-pack now!”

“Jessica! Move! You’re blocking the TV!” Mike shot back, leaning to the right in his recliner.

She dropped to the floor and began doing pushups. “Wow, I’m starting to get pretty big now, aren’t I Mike?”

Mike swallowed hard knowing she was. She was starting to get really big now, too big. He watched her begin to do one-handed pushups, as easy as if she had used both her hands.

“I think I’ve been getting taller too. You know, growing? I don’t know. Maybe it’s all in my imagination. Buuut…” she began doing pushups on her thumb and forefinger now, as easily as ever. A strike of lightning shot down Mike’s spine. “…I don’t think these new muscles of mine are my imagination.” She smiled up towards her watching boyfriend. “What do you think, Mikey?”

Ever since she began to get bigger she began to call him “Mikey.” He hated it when she called him that. It made him feel weak, or, weaker than her anyway, and he knew how strong she was getting.

She got up off the floor and bent over to stretch her legs. Mike watched the striation roll over all her muscles. “These muscles just seem to come out of nowhere, Mikey. I feel … I don’t know… just so strong and powerful.”

She blocked Mike’s view of the TV and began to flex poses. “I don’t know what people are talking about, Mikey”—there was that word again—“this weight lifting thing is so easy! I’m thinking about entering a show. Think I’d win?”

She flexed a front double bicep pose and smiled down to him, putting her foot on the recliner between his legs, making it lean forward.

“What’s wrong, Mikey? I know that face. Aren’t you the one who said I should start working out? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Well,” Mike began slowly, looking anywhere but at her and her new body. He couldn’t seem to face how big and powerful his scrawny, thin girlfriend had become. “I didn’t expect you to become… this!”

She pushed her foot into the recliner and made him force against to the chair’s armrests to stop from falling out. “This what?” she asked sternly.

“Jessica! Look at you! Look how big and strong you’ve become! And look what you’re doing to me and this chair!”

Jessica put her hands to her hips and frowned down to her boyfriend. Veins rose on her plump forearms as she clinched her fists. “So you DON’T like the way I look?”

The recliner was practically horizontal now under her foot now. “I did all this for you.”

He was getting turned on by his girlfriend’s strength. “Honestly, Jessica… if you like it, I like it.”

The recliner snapped back, hitting the wall behind it. Her foot returned to the floor. “Thanks baby, cause you know what? I like the way I look, and how I feel. And I actually like being big and muscular and stronger than you.” She chuckled. “I didn’t even know girls could get as big as I am now. But I’ll get bigger, for both of us. I promise.”

She came closer, kissed her boyfriend on the forehead like a child, and then started rubbing his erection through his pants.

“So how about you give me that thank you I’ve been waiting for all this time, and let me get back to training?” Mike said nothing; what could he say? “I plan to get so much bigger and harder, Mike; you’ll see. And I can hardly wait.”

. . . .

Mike woke up and met his girlfriend Jessica in the kitchen. Her body glistened with lines of sweat, and she wore daisy dukes over a string bikini that showed off every bulging inch of her even bigger, now harder body.

“Good morning, Mike. Hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, no,” he said, looking into a bag. Just as he thought, it was heavy.

“I ran to the store this morning. We were low on a few things for breakfast.”

Mike looked as his girlfriend dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe what he heard, ever since the recliner Jessica had been surprising him more and more with her strength, endurance, and physique.

“The store!? But Jessica that’s 5 miles from here!”

“Yeah,” she giggled, “excuse me if I’m a little pumped.” She began taking things out of the bags.

“Early morning cardio’s done!” she laughed, shrugging off 10 hot, grueling miles like nothing. “So how are you, sweetness? I hope you’re awake.” She reached out her strong hand and pulled Mike by his shirt. Close up, she was the same height as he was. She kissed him on his forehead and then, tilting his head up, gave him a long, wet kiss on his lips.

She smiled as she flexed a front lat spread pose. “Want your big, strong girlfriend to make you your breakfast?”

They both knew what the answer was.

“Good,” she said, stooping down and picking Mike up, cradling him easily like a baby in her arms, “because I need more cardio. I want more definition in my shoulders, and these final pockets of useless fat have got to go.”

Mike looked over and saw how massive her shoulders were now and how the fibers shredded as she held him—with more than enough definition.

“Oh yes, and from now on, Mike, you’ll be earning your breakfast from your big, strong girlfriend every morning. Call it, I don’t know, ‘morning cardio.’”

And with that she carried him to his bedroom.

. . . .

Mike’s body was now lean from all the mornings of forced ‘cardio’ with his girlfriend Jessica, and muscles of his own were now beginning to show on him. He got many compliments on how great he looked and pleads to reveal what program he was on. But he never told anyone it was because of sex with his muscle-bound girlfriend.

His cardio went on day after day like Jessica promised him, and even though he was building an endurance to her, he was still exhausted and spend after she finished with him each morning. He was getting tired while she became harder and leaner as she became heavier.

Charged by him every morning Jessica happily increased her workouts to four times a day, her first being immediately after she dismounted his sweat-drenched body in the mornings.

“I don’t know, Mikey,” the now full-on female bodybuilder that used to be his sweet, innocent girlfriend would joke, dismounting his aching body, “I honestly think it’s your spunk that’s doing this to me. What’s your recipe?”

“Jessica,” he would stop her as she pranced off to her first workout, “I can’t keep this up.”

And she would turn to him in the doorway and say, over her massive back muscles: “Sorry but you just don’t have a say anymore. Look at me, Mikey! My body’s never looked any better! I love it! And anyway, you’re wonderful in the sack.” She would always give a wink and promise to fix breakfast when she was done, and then prance off, large and naked, to her workout.

. . . .

Mike hungrily ate the breakfast he had earned. Jessica would cook only meals high in protein with some carbohydrates, the meals that combined with his ‘cardio’ had undoubtedly contributed to his developing muscularity. He looked up and saw his girlfriend Jessica staring at it.

“Tomorrow you’ll train with me,” she said, and continued eating her breakfast.

. . . .

Jessica hurried in the door looking elegant in her beautiful, topless gown that formed over her lumpy torso, her muscled arms and chests bulging out of the top of it like the head on a stalk of broccoli, her legs bulging from the bottom of it, making her have to frequently pull it back down the entire night. She pulled Mike’s hand and he came through the door, embarrassed, while listening to his girlfriend tell him about how tonight was one of the best dates she had with him in a long, long time.

Her new muscles had given her a new confidence about herself, and tonight Mike saw a side of his girlfriend that he’d never seen in public before.

She had asked him in the car if he thought that she was pretty. And when he agreed she went around to the passenger’s side and lifted him out, carrying him to the restaurant in her high heels.

She asked for a table in the center of the restaurant and when the food came she alternated feeding him his food and feeding herself with her one fork, leaning over enough for anyone looking to get a clear look down her gown into her hard, squeezed chests. Every man looked, in disgust.

“I really think I’m going to enter that show, Mikey,” she told him. “I’m more than big enough now.”

He took one of the last bites of his meal from her fork.

“Who’s the strongest, baby?” she had asked him, and at his answer she asked for the check and was ready to go, pumped for some “night cardio” with her lovely, wonderful boyfriend—cardio which she added every night after.

. . . .

“Ready for our morning cardio?” Jessica smiled, turning to Mike, her chests pushing into his back. “I want it just like we did it last night, baby! Strong and rough.”

She ran her fingers down Mike’s now barreled chest and six-pack abs. “Oooo… I love the feel of that. I knew working out with me would be a good thing for you.”

Jessica began playing with Mike’s member in her fingers.

“Though, you are growing painfully slow. Mikey, are you taking our training seriously? Do you want your girlfriend to be bigger and stronger and harder than you forever?”

“Actually, Jessica,” Mike began, turning and cuddling up to his girlfriend’s naked body. His completely erect member rubbed against her massive quads as he kissed the side of her body and looked up at her. “I do want you like this, forever. I’m ready for our cardio.”

[IBP]

More

Haley
by P. E. Sherman
_____________________________

Haley was more than nervous waiting for the door. She turned to the neighborhood as she waited and surveyed across the street: a straight row of near indentical homes each with its own perfect, white, numbered mailbox. She turned back to the door and stepped back a little to count the small holes and chips in the door’s white-washed wood. Suddenly, she heard a sound coming through the door, a distinct sound, riding on familiar. She knew she had heard it somewhere before, maybe at a gym, maybe, but for some reason just couldn't place it. She went quiet and as quietly as she could she loosened her hand from her bag’s strap and placed it onto the door. The door rumbled her young hand in pulses with the metallic clanking that was dull in the air. She pushed the button and heard the doorbell ring somewhere inside.

The clanking stopped and the lock clicked and the door was opened by a tall, muscular woman glistening with sweat. The woman could have lifted fifteen men if she wanted, Haley thought as she rudely looked over her body, or with a downward gesture of her finger could make them submit to her feet. Her eyes, she had to admit, were captivating and complimented by long, red hair flowing down her back. With one look she could have fulfill a man’s desires, in her green tank top hardly covering the cleavage of her over-developed breasts. It shaded her abs from the sun like a canopy, and behind her breasts barreled striated pecs ran to shoulders as if one muscle. Her shoulders were cut like bell peppers she saw her mom with in the kitchen. Her obliques bulged from her frame and they bent under her abs. Haley stood half dumbfounded as she could hardly believe the woman she was seeing even with her own two eyes.

“How… how did you get so big?” She asked in a tone of awe.

“You want to be this big?” the woman questioned back. She was matter-of-fact in her reply.

“Yes!” Haley replied, wasting no time.

“Really? You really want to be this big?”

“Yes I do! More than anything!”

“Now why would you want to do that, little girl?” The woman questioned again, folding her arms to herself.

Haley didn’t reply, half not able to speak. She reached a hand into her girl-scout bag and pulled out the edge-worn Muscle and Fitness Hers she had been secretly hiding from her tribe and family, handing it over. The woman looked at the magazine then back to the girl then turned to the house, her back to Haley, and brushed her hair to her front before flexig her back hard and in full display. Haley knew it was a preview of things to come, even bigger than the women in her magazine. "Come inside," the woman said, before disappearing into the house and leaving the door open behind her.

* * *

The room was full of gym equipment soon to be used: machines and weights off different sized angled this way and that, dumbbells were stacked up on racks in ascending or descending order. Haley walked around the floor and through all the equipment. She remembered some of them from her magazine, but others she had never seen before and couldn't wait to use. She turned left and saw that the left wall was a mirror that reflected the entire room back, doubling it. She saw in the mirror the woman was walking towards her, looking even bigger in comparison with the small glass of liquid she held in her hands.

“Here, drink this. My name is Rosaline, or ‘Rose’ I'd prefer.”

Haley handed back the glass empty, thinking that the dark-green liquid didn’t taste that bad at all.

“Thank you, Ms. Rose," she said at length, "Mines is—”

“Haley. Haley Morrison.” Rose smiled. “It’s on your uniform, dear.”

Haley looked sheepish. “It’s okay,” she said, walking. Her muscles rippled as she moved. “So, Ms. Morrison, what body part should we train first?”

* * *

“Are you ready?” Rose asked down to Haley, her strong, vein-filled arms bending to grip her hands on the barbell. Haley looked up to her. “Just know before you start that this won’t be quite like anything you’ve ever experienced before.”

Haley nodded, gripping the barbell tighter.

“Okay then, Haley, we’ll begin light,” said Rose, as the barbell began to glow. The barbell became warm and shone in a bright blue and then stopped. Haley used her chests and held it up above her. She brought it down. “Good, Haley! …9… 10… 11… 12… 13… That’s it…14…” Haley squeezed hard. By twenty-one, her chests and triceps were burning, but still she continued pushing. “Come on, keep going,” Rose said . “Another set, let’s go.” Haley squeezed her chests even harder and felt her girl-scout uniform rip somewhere, but her reps began to slow. Her uniform was getting tighter and tighter and she was taking longer and longer to reach the top of her reps each time. She squeezed her arms more and fought her way to the top. Her arms shook the barbell as it lifted and lowered, and she clenched her teeth hard in pain, in effort.

“Next level,” Rose said, as the barbell became warm again in Haley’s fingers. It shone again then stopped, and immediately Haley felt an enormous weight that drove down the barbell onto her chests. Pain filled her, and she yelled out from it. She tried hard to push the barbell from her. Rose shot to the barbell.

“No, Rose!” Haley protested through a strained voice and clenched teeth. “Let me do it!”

Haley planted her feet and pushed even harder until the barbell began to shake, until finally it slowly began to rise. “That’s it, Haley!”

Haley inhaled a deep breath. Her chests were pure fire. She forced the weight upwards, her teeth glaring through her young, red face, her neck lined with veins.

“Next level,” Rose said, and the barbell became warm again. The bar stopped its ascent midair and shook again in place. Haley’s face distorted in desperation as she thought that she had nothing left to give. Heat radiated from her, but was nothing compared to the fire in her chests and triceps. Strands of damp blonde hair lapped her. The force was too much, she thought, and both women watched as the barbell arched under the enormous weight. It began to lower again despite Haley’s fight; Rose began to reach for the barbell.

“No!” Haley protested again, barely able get it out. “Let... me... do... it...!”

The barbell continued its decent. Haley pushed hard with everything in her and the weight hovered just above her. It began to descend again and bent into the bones of her chest cavity and causing her excruciating pain so that she couldn’t breathe. Her arms weakened by the second. Still she pushed on, harder, harder, and forced her hands into the barbell. She used her abs; she used her shoulders; she used every muscle she could throw at it... and felt strength coming back to her, her eyes turning as green as the liquid Rose had given her. She felt monstrous. Slowly the barbell began to rise until it reached the top and her arms were straight. Haley gave a deep, huffing breath and slowly lowered it back down. This time she forced the barbell back up immediately; this time she was in control. She brought it back down, and exhaled as she forced it back up. She continued to rep out the weight that only seconds ago had nearly killed her.

Satisfied at her 100th rep, Haley racked the weight and got up.

“Look in the mirror.” Rose, smiling, proud, nodded her head towards it.

At the mirror, when she reached to touch her Girl Scout uniform a button jettisoned itself, piercing through the corner of the wall mirror as if shot from a cannon, then suddenly all of the buttons, one by one, down her shirt, flew off in scattering directions and Haley's shirt fell open on her arms. Behind her smaller developing breasts, two rippling pectoral slabs were sprikled with powerful, pulsing veins. She poked them with her fingers and saw how they didn't move. She flexed them and saw how they were eager to grow even bigger, rippling with size and definition. Haley looked back at Rose, who nodded. She raised her hands behind her young head and began to pec-bounce, first quickly so she could see them work, and then more slowly so she could ejoy them, just as the boys at her high school did.

Rose slid her hands to her waist and admired the young girl's body. Her triceps were bulging behind her arms, ripped through her sleeves.

“I like this,” the young bodybuilder said before long with a kind of smile.

Rose smiled. “I never expected you to respond this much to it. You really are a remarkable perso, Ms. Haley Morrison.”

Haley smiled and fought back a blush, moving her hands to her waist like Rose. “Of course I do, Rose, I know your secret.”

Rose laughed. “You do? So then tell me, how many repetitions will you have to do to get the body you want?”

The young bodybuilder turned to the mirror and flexed her chests hard again. They bounced for her and she tensed them until they fully squeezed and rippled. “As many as it takes, Ms. Rose. As many as it takes.”

[apc001]

nice