Honeybun Pumps Iron

[Mr.Purple357]

I posted this on another forum awhile back but maybe people here will like it too.

Honeybun Pumps Iron Chapter 1
By
Mr. Purple (comments to Mr.Purple357@gmail.com)

“Honeybun, I’m home,” I yelled as I walked into the house. I’d been on travel a lot over the last six months and hadn’t seen my wife in nearly three weeks. I plopped my bag on the floor and looked around, but no one responded. Her car was in the driveway, so she must be around somewhere. As I walked into the living room, I heard a faint clank. I cocked my ear and realized it was coming from the basement.

The kids had a bunch of exercise equipment down there, but Katie should be in college and Mark was overseas in the Army. I nervously opened the door leading to the basement. My wife never went down here. Thoughts of an intruder having chained her to the wall rose in my mind.

Both surprised and relieved, I saw her laying on the bench press pushing up the bar loaded with 45 lbs. and 25 lbs. plates on each side. I quickly added up 185 lbs. counting the bar. “Six …” she said as she pushed the bar up again. I silently watched her push them up four more times, feeling both uneasy and oddly excited at the sight of her triceps bulging out and her large breasts rising upwards with each rep. When she racked the weight, I cleared my throat.

She looked up at me. “Tom, I didn’t know you’d be home so early.” She ran over and hugged me. I tried not to groan as she squeezed me but it was much tighter than I remembered. Her breasts pressed into me. I returned the hug, feeling her lower back muscles. I let my hands drift down to her butt and felt her glutes swell.

She stepped back. She only wore a sports bra and panties. My wife’s always been a bit pudgy but seeing her now, she looked more solid than chubby. “What are you up to?” I asked rather stupidly.

“I’ve started working out. The kids left all this weight equipment around so I decided to try it out. I’ve really gotten into it; I’ve been lifting two hours a day for months now.” She picked up a pair of 25 lbs. dumbells and started curling them. My eyes were glued to her biceps flexing as she did. I wasn’t doing anything but my own breathing started to quicken and I began to sweat in my suit.

“I’m sure I mentioned it to you, but you’ve been gone so much I guess this is the first time I’ve done it while you were around.”

“Well, good news on that front, I’ve gotten moved up, so I’ll be here almost all the time,” I gasped out the last as I watched her left bicep peak as she pumped out the last rep.

“That’s wonderful,” she smiled. “Hey, are you all right? You look flush.” She set the weights down, walked over and put her hand against my forehead. “You do feel warm.”

“I’m fine. I’m in a suit and it’s just hot and humid down here.” I pushed at her hand. I didn’t push hard but it was odd that it didn’t even budge.

“Well, why don’t you take it off and do some reps with me? All that hotel living will make you fat.”

I pulled off my jacket and patted my flat stomach. “No way,” I said proudly, “I did thirty minutes on the hotel treadmill every night.

“That’s great,” she leaned over and patted my belly giving me a great view of her cleavage. She’d always been chesty, but her breasts seemed higher and fuller than I remembered as they strained against her bra. I had to force my attention back to her face as she added, “But you need anaerobic exercise too or your upper body will get soft.”

I scoffed, “I still play tennis. I pulled off my dress shirt and flexed my arm. My bicep did swell up and it was firm, but Sue’s arm did look bigger. It couldn’t all be muscle though, I told myself.

“That’s good, but if you don’t do more, I’ll end up stronger than you. I’m working out a lot.”

“Ha, I’m a man, just because you’re pumping some iron doesn’t make you stronger than me,” I said it a little too loudly.

She got that look on her face when she’s annoyed with me. “Lots of women are stronger than men. I bet Serena Williams is stronger than 90% of men.”

“She’s a pro athlete; you’re a middle aged housewife. It’s great that you’re working out, but don’t think that makes you stronger than me.” I started up the stairs, nervous about where this argument might end up.

“Fine, let’s have a test. Try benching what I’m benching.” I looked at how much weight was on the stand.

“That’s not a fair test, lifting is about balance and other stuff,” I protested. I knew just enough about weightlifting to know there was some truth to that.

She laughed dismissively then said, “Fine, how about we wrestle?”

“Whaat? What do you mean,” I stuttered.

She walked over to a large bare space on the black mats that covered the floor and raised her hands up. “I mean, you come here, and we wrestle. A big, strong man like you ought to have no problem with little ole me.”

I laughed, “That’s ridiculous. I’m six inches taller and twenty or thirty pounds heavier.”

“Probably only ten. Once, I'd have been embarrassed to admit that but it's a lot more muscle than it used to be. Now, take off your pants and tee shirt.” She rolled her shoulders and shrugged her head side to side. I saw her delts tighten as she did. Part of me wanted to come up with an excuse to get out of this, but my hands were already pulling off my shirt because the other part of me really wanted to wrestle her. I dropped my pants. I quickly adjusted my underwear because my cock was half erect. Man, what was wrong with me?

I locked hands with her and pushed, she didn’t budge, so I reversed and pulled. She pivoted, pulling me with just her right hand. The combined motion twisted me so my right side faced her. She released her grip, wrapped her arms around my waist, and lifted me in the air, twisting as she did so my back faced the floor.

I scrambled to grab hold of her, afraid she would slam me to the floor. My hands found her biceps. They were so firm and big, I could barely hold them. Instead of dropping me, she squatted down. I gawked at her large thighs as they grew taut. She gently plopped me to the floor then stepped back.

“That was easier than I thought,” she smiled. “But I don’t want you to say it was about ‘balance and other stuff’, so get up. This time I’m just going to force you to the floor with raw girl power.” She held out her hands again.

Even though I was in good shape and not at all tired, I was gasping for breath and trembling as I reached for her hands. My dick was now rock hard. I quickly locked fingers, hoping she wouldn’t look down. I started pushing against her. She stood there for a moment grinning. She began to push back and twisted her wrists down. My hands bent back. She leaned in and pushed me downward. I tried to push back but it was no use. To keep from toppling, I had to go to my knees.

Her big breasts were inches from my face, cleavage spilling out of her bra as she bent over me. My cock was straining so hard against my briefs, it hurt. With a final push, I dropped to my back. She kneeled down over me and began to push my arms to the mat. Her pecs pushed up as she drove my arms down. The areolae of her right breast began to push out. The tip of my cock popped free from the top of my shorts. I groaned thru gritted teeth as it twitched. She smiled down at me thinking I was groaning from the effort of holding her back. With a final thrust she slammed my arms down.

Her meaty thighs squeezed in on my ribs. I moaned as I watched the flesh ripple. “Oh, geeze, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I didn’t say that she hadn’t as she lightened her grip. “I guess I just don’t know my own strength.” She flexed her left bicep. It swelled up big as a baseball. I gawked, and unable to contain myself, drooled at the sight.

She looked closely at me. “What the hell. Is this turning you on?” She looked down between her legs. “Holy crap, you’re rock hard.” She pulled on my underwear. I tried to grab her arm with my free hand, but she slammed it back down and pinned it with her knee. She jerked my underwear off. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so big,” she squealed. She looked at me with comprehension dawning.

She reached up and pulled her scrunchy off so her long brown hair cascaded around her face. “Are my muscles turning you on, hon?” She flexed her arm again. I moaned thru gritted teeth but didn’t answer. “Wow, your cock is dripping,” she said. “Well, answer me.” She flexed her pecs making her breasts jiggle and more of that right areolae pushed out. My cock felt like it was vibrating, but I still didn’t say anything. Bad enough she’d overpowered me so easily, but to admit I liked it was just too humiliating.

She guessed what I was thinking, “Don’t be embarrassed, your excitement's turning me on. I’ll show you,” she slid off her panties. “Look,” she held them up so I could see how wet they were. I could feel the heat off her pussy, just inches above my quivering rod.

Seeing me still not talking, she added, “I’ll tell you what, if you tell me my muscles turn you on, I’ll free your hands and you can feel them.” Still straddling me, she did a double bicep pose. “But you have to say it.”

Something inside of me cracked. I was in a frenzy of muscle lust. I didn’t care about my defeat or my embarrassment. All I cared about was rubbing my hands over her awesome muscles. “Yes,” I yelled. “I love your muscles. Please let me touch them. Pretty please.”

She slid her knees off me and my hand shot up and caressed each arm. Beneath the soft fleshy outside, I felt the iron hard firmness. She flexed harder, pushing my fingers outward. I continuously moaned as my balls began to tighten. She flexed her pecs again and this time the whole right breast popped free of her bra, the nipple stuck out more than half an inch and looked as hard as a diamond.

Every muscle in my lower body contracted. I squeezed down on her biceps as hard as I could as the first blast of cum ripped from my cock, shot between us, and flew over my head to land on the mat. The second streaked a line of semen along my forehead, over my nose, and down to my mouth. Blast after blast struck my chin, my chest, my stomach. Long seconds passed and more cum still dribbled from the tip of my dick.

"Wow, wow, wow," my wife repeated as she watched. "That was awesome," she finally said when I calmed down enough to look at her through cum covered eyes. She grabbed my t-shirt off the mat and used it to gently wipe up my seed, first off my torso, then from my face.

As she reached over my head to wipe the cum off the mat, she sighed, "The bad thing is I was hoping to have that huge thing in me, maybe later."

At some point, she'd pulled off that bra and her big breasts dangled near my mouth. I pulled my head up and clamped onto that big nipple. She froze and began to quiver. I then wrapped my hands around her big, powerful ass and pulled myself up toward her. Honeybun had been wrong about one thing. All that massive orgasm had done was take the edge off. I was still desperate for more. In one smooth motion, I thrust my still iron hard dick hilt deep into her.

It was her turn to start moaning.

[fan.fit]

I love the last part of this story when Ms. Sue held in an embrace  weak Billy boy ...

[wowser1016]

Oh boy, that was fun. I definitely liked it and hope to hear more about Honeybun. K+!

[Mr.Purple357]

When I originally wrote these, there was a story focusing on Honeybun's cross fit champion daughter before it in the continuity, but I decided to stick with Honeybun in this thread.

(This story is told from the point of view of Sue (Honeybun) Miller.)

Tom was at work and Katie was visiting friends from high school when I returned home earlier than usual.  Wednesday afternoons, I volunteered at the abused women’s shelter, but for a change, they were overstaffed, so I was home hours early.  When I walked in, I saw our TV and computer sitting right by the door. If I’d been thinking, I’d have run back out of the house, but instead, I went into the kitchen and walked right into a man rummaging through our drawers.

“Who are you, what are you doing?” I demanded.

He held up a hand. “Stay back lady, I don’t want to have to hurt you and I won’t if you keep out of my way.” He wore jeans and a gray wife beater.  He was maybe Tom’s size but only a few years older than Katie.   He had scraggly facial hair. A missing front tooth gave him an ominous look. He pointed to a corner. 

I meekly did as he ordered.  While I'd been wrestling my husband lately, I'd never been in a real fight.  Besides, the self defense classes I'd  taken had taught me never to fight someone over stuff.  So as humiliated as it made me feel, I did the smart thing and stood there while he stacked our electronics by the front door, then my jewelry, Katie’s violin, Mark’s crossbow, and Tom’s Calloway golf clubs.

He walked up to me and said, “Ok, I’ll pull my truck into the driveway, load up, and be out of your life.” He looked at my hand. “But first, give me that ring.” He pointed to my emerald and diamond engagement ring.
I pulled my hand to my chest. “No, please,” I begged, tears started streaming down my face, “this ring’s been in my family for more than a hundred years.”

“Boo, fucking hoo, Lady.  Hand it over.” He grabbed my left hand with his left and pulled it toward him.  I pulled it back. I’d done the smart thing until now, but my Grandma had smuggled that ring out of a Nazi death camp and there was no way I was giving it to this asshole.  He reached out his right hand but I grabbed that with my right hand.  He struggled to free it while pulling on my ring hand. “Lady, I’m getting tired of this shit.”

He pulled hard on me. I shifted my hands to try and slip free, but instead we ended up in a double handshake.  My right to his right, my left to his left. “I don’t care, you’re not getting my ring,” I told him.

“All right, you asked for it,” he replied.  He began to squeeze my hands as hard as he could.  My fingers squished together and the tips became blood red.

“Ow, stop, your hurting me,” I cried. He just laughed. I couldn’t take this for long. I only had one chance. I had to squeeze back. I forced my aching fingers to push back against his grip. We stood there for long moments. He grinned at me, enjoying my pain, but slowly, I got my fingers back to a neutral position.  Now, I could squeeze harder.

I looked at our hands. His hands and forearms were bigger than mine, but my forearms were much firmer and the muscles were larger. I forced myself to squeeze harder. I locked eyes with him. His obnoxious grin had disappeared and a bead of sweat formed on his brow. Slowly, his hands began to bend inward. I squeezed harder.

“Screw this,” he said, and tried to pull away. I plopped my butt on the floor. Off balance now, he dropped down in front of me, our hands still locked. Now, it was his fingers that were being squished together. I squeezed harder.

“Lemme go, Lady,” he said in a rising voice. He tried to kick his legs out but I slammed my own legs on top of his. My muscular thighs held his down just as my hands were mashing his together. “Look, keep the ring lady.” He started moaning. I squeezed harder.

“Yes, I’ll be keeping my ring.” Tears were starting to form in his eyes. He was the one who now looked scared, but I was becoming angrier. He’d made me afraid to be in my own home. He’d scared and bullied me. The fury let me squeeze even harder.

“Your hurting me. Please lady, I’ll just go. Keep your stuff. Oh, God, how are you so strong?” I could feel all the bones in his right hand compacting together. His left wasn’t much farther behind. He was openly weeping. He wimpered, his tough guy visage disappeared and he now looked like a little baby before my power. I squeezed harder.

“Maybe because I spend my free time working out instead of robbing people.” Through tear filled eyes, he really looked at me for the first time. In my short sleeve blouse, he could see my bulging arm muscles and realized just how much stronger I was than him.

“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t take the pain.” His right hand was completely folded over in mine. I squeezed harder.

I looked up to see Tom sneaking up behind him, Katie’s softball bat in hand, about to take the creep’s head off at the shoulders. I shook my head at him furiously. I didn’t want Tom to kill the guy, and more importantly, I didn’t want any help stopping him.

In my right hand, I heard a loud pop followed by two snaps as the bones in his hand broke one after the other. He screamed so loud, it hurt my ears. “Help, someone help me. Anyone. Call the police. I’ll turn myself in. Send me to jail, please, just don’t break my other hand. Please, please,” he kept begging. Tears flooded down his face.

His right hand felt like a loose mass of meat and bones squishing between my fingers. His left hand was now folded completely in two, near the tipping point, about to follow the right. I was so mad, I didn’t care, I was going to break it too. I squeezed harder.

I felt Tom’s hands lightly stroking my forearms on up to my shoulders. He knelt down behind me and quietly said, “Honeybun, I think he’s had enough. Please let him go.” I almost ignored him, but I took a deep breath, and slowly unclenched my hands.

The creep snatched his crushed hand into his lap. Tom pointed to the corner where I’d been made to stand and said, “Go there and don’t move a muscle or I’ll let her have her way with you.”

I clenched my fists and flexed my biceps. He couldn’t have looked more terrified if I’d pressed a loaded gun against his temple. He used his legs and his less badly mangled hand to push himself into the corner. A trail of yellow liquid followed him. I’d made him piss his pants. I began to feel guilty about how good that made me feel.

Fortunately, we live in a good neighborhood with good cops and when they quickly arrived, they were much more worried about whether I might have been traumatized than the robber’s busted hands.

They let Tom do most of the talking, so I just watched, stewing in a mix of pride, anger, guilt, and something it took me a little while to identify, lust. Beating the crap out of that guy had turned me on so much.

As soon as the police closed the door, I felt myself being pulled toward the sofa. “Oh, man, I thought they’d never leave,” Tom said. “I had to hold my Ipad in front of me the whole time so they wouldn’t see my hard on.  Watching you crush that asshole was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

His dick was about to break thru his Dockers. “Yes, yes, give it to me now,” I cried, ripping furiously at his pants. We were still both half dressed as he went balls deep inside me. “Oh, God, that’s what I need. Harder, harder.”

He took my right hand, the one I’d broken the robber’s hand with, brought it to his mouth and started kissing my fingers.  I clenched it into a fist and said, “If you hadn’t been here to stop me. I would have broken his other hand then pounded him over and over again with my fists. I can’t tell you how much that thought turns me on.”

“No more than it turns me on,” he cried. I felt his already huge cock swell even bigger. I moaned with pleasure. My own orgasm arrived just as he pumped out a huge blast deep into me. It was the strongest most powerful orgasm I’d ever had. Tom later told me he had to wrap his arms and legs around me to keep from being thrown off as I thrashed about. It went on so long that by the time it ended, he’d rehardened, rehammered me, and recame.

Much later. We lay together on the carpet, having rolled off the couch. Tom looked at me and said, “Are you feeling guilty about what happened?”

I shook my head. “No, he got what he deserved, but I’m worried about how much I enjoyed it. I don’t want to become someone who gets off on hurting people.”

He laughed, “Honeybun, I know you and I know you’d never pound some creep over and over again with your fists unless you had absolutely no choice.”

(If there’s still interest in this storyline, next time, Honeybun has absolutely no choice but to pound some creep over and over again with her fists.)

[crow004]

Oh I'd like to see what Honeybun will do when she's backed into a corner. And what would her daughter think if she accidently saw it?

[Activeoneguy]

 You have my attention so far.  Thanks for sharing.

[jeffbeans]

I remember reading these, the next chapter is so good! Please keep going with the Honeybun stories Mr.Purple!

[jhunter]

Good read so far, hoping for more soon.

[potatocarrot]

Enjoying so far, please keep going.

[Mr.Purple357]

(This story is told from the point of view of Sue ‘Honeybun’ Miller. If you’re wondering why mom and dad are getting busy in front of their daughter, you may want to read the first two Crossfit Katie posts.)

I was jogging thru the park two blocks away from our house late in the afternoon. I had decided I needed to start working on my cardio. I’d teased Tom about how he needed to do more weights, but I’d noticed after our recent marathon sex sessions, he’d get a quick drink of water to rehydrate then be ready to keep going, while I was still sucking wind trying to catch my breath.

While I’d heard that a couple of women had been attacked and raped in a park on the seedier side of town last week, I didn’t even consider that something like that could happen in the nice neighborhood where we lived.
As the trail wove through a heavily wooded section, something flashed from behind a tree and struck me in the side. I tumbled off the trail, barely breaking my fall with my arm. A heavy body landed on top of me.  “Hold still.” A fat face pushed down toward mine, his breath stank as he added, “I’ll hurt you otherwise.”

His big body had me pinned down and his hands began to rip at my shirt. Oh, god, what do I do? I felt something hard pressing against my leg. Gross, it was his bare penis. He’s going to rape me. I started to scream, he rammed a hand down on my mouth. “Shh, shh, don’t make me hurt you.”

I started to flail, but then I remembered all of Katie and Mark’s high school wrestling matches. I got my hands under his chest and pushed up. He was really heavy but I didn’t need to bench him, just lift him enough to roll myself over.  Once I did, I tried to pull my legs up. “Lady, I warned you.” He pulled on my left side, trying to roll me back over. I spread my legs to stop him.

He tried moving me for a second and failed, but this wasn’t a wrestling match, he rammed his fist into my side. I groaned in pain. I’d never been punched before. He did it again. I had to get him off me. I thrust my arms hard into the dirt, pushing myself back. My back slammed into his chest, making it hard for him to hit me with a solid punch.  I pulled a knee in and started pressing myself up.

He wrapped his arms around me and began to squeeze, but both my legs were under me now, so I was able to push back upright. “I’m going to crush you,” he gasped, putting me in a bearhug .  He had meaty fat arms that pushed my arms against my ribs while his forearms dug into my tits. He locked his huge paws together over my sternum. I forced my chest outward and flexed my pecs and biceps. We stood there for a long minute struggling. I could feel his weiner pushing into my ass.

He groaned and cursed me, but slowly, I forced his hands apart.  I could now bend my arms enough so I could grab his wrists. I pulled outward and as big as he was, I was strong enough to slip out.  As I did, I said, “I’ve had enough of your teeny peenie against me.” The thing was a Vienna sausage sized stub sticking out from his unzipped jeans. “Is that why you have to attack women?” I taunted. Part of me knew I shouldn't, but I was mad.

“That’s not true, it’s not true,” he screamed, spit flying from his mouth. He charged at me. He was almost as tall as Mark but he was more fat than muscle. I slipped to the side and pushed on him. I’d hoped to knock him down, but he kept his feet and the I shoved him to the opposite of the trail where he backed into a tree.
I kept going and he landed a hard punch to my stomach. I bounced back, the air whooshed out of me, I forced myself to stay upright. For a moment, I thought about trying to run for it, but then he said, “I’m going to kill you, bitch.” I remembered the man who’d broken into my home and how he’d tried to make me afraid.  I had promised never to let anyone make me feel like that again. I swung out my own fist and landed a punch to his belly, but I’d never punched anyone before and it barely made a dent in his blubbery hide.

He landed a harder one in return on my right tit. He pushed off the tree and swung again. I forced myself to focus, stepped in, and landed a solid punch to his chest.  He went back against the tree but swung again. We started trading punches. He landed roundhouses to my arms but I dug in and kept punching his chest, then his stomach, then his chest. I kept my head down and hit him again and again. I forced myself to use every ounce of muscle in my arms and shoulders to hit him harder and harder.

After my fifth punch to the ribs, I realized he was no longer swinging back, but he wasn’t falling. I was hitting him, I had to be hurting him. Didn’t I? What if I wasn’t and he was just gathering his strength to bull rush me. Scared that at any moment, he’d push off and tackle me again, I started firing punch after punch into his chest. I pushed forward on my legs and dug a deep one two into his fat gut.  Still he didn’t fall. Was I that weak? His little penis still jiggled hard and small as ever.

A horrible thought entered my head. Maybe he was enjoying this, maybe I wasn’t hurting him and my blows were just turning him on.  I had to hit him harder.  I drew my fist back and slammed it dead on into his chest.  His body shuddered but still he didn’t fall. I forced myself to look up at his face, hoping I wasn’t leaving myself open, hoping he wasn’t laughing at my weak efforts.

I gasped, his head lolled from side to side. “Please stop hitting me,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. “I think you broke my ribs.” Tears flowed down his beet red, grotesque face. I stepped back, his body hung there even though his legs slumped under him. I’d beaten him much worse than I’d imagined. So how come he hadn’t fallen?

I looked behind him. A pruned tree branch had hooked onto his belt and held him up the whole time I’d been pounding him. “I’m so sorry, I never would have attacked you if I’d known you were so strong,” he moaned.

I looked at him and felt my anger returning. He wouldn’t have attacked me if he’d known I’d been so strong? As if it’d have been ok if I weren’t so strong. I did something I’d never done before; I struck someone out of anger. I hauled back and punched him square in the nose. His head slammed back against the tree then dropped forward. He hung there, unconscious; his little weiner still hard and hanging out of his pants. A stream of cum began to gush from it. I felt pleased that he wasn't awake to enjoy it.

“Way to go, Mrs. M.,” a voice said behind me. I turned to see Billy Thompson, the teenage son of our next door neighbors standing there with his Iphone in hand. “This is going to be my most popular video ever.”

I liked Billy, he’d always been a nice, sweet kid, but I was annoyed that he was just standing there filming this. “Shouldn’t you have been helping me instead of making a video?”

“Why, I would have just been in your way.” He pointed at the creep’s penis. “I bet this is that guy who’s been raping women. Once I post this, you’re going to be a hero, Mrs. M.” He started punching keys on his phone.

I leapt over to him and grabbed his hand. “Hey, stop it,” Billy said. I pulled the phone away from him with my other hand. “Give that back.” He tried to pull on my arm, but Billy’s a skinny kid, so I wrapped my free arm around him and pulled him close.  He pushed on my arms, but I easily held him in place.

“I’m sorry, Billy, but I’m not Katie, I like keeping a low profile.” Holding the phone behind his back I pulled up the video. He kept squirming against me. His chest rubbed against my tits; I felt my nipples hardening. His breathing became raspy and he began caressing my biceps instead of pushing against them. My big thigh was shoved between his legs and I started to feel his erection growing.

“Mrs. M. uh, uh, what are you doing?” he gasped. His erection kept growing against my leg. For a skinny teen, he had an impressive dick.

“Sorry, Billy, but I need to delete this,” I told him. I also emailed a copy of it to myself. Billy was actually solving a pretty big problem for me. And looking at the video, he didn’t arrive until after I’d pushed the creep into the tree, so he’d been right to stay out of it. Maybe I owed him some compensation. I flexed my thigh muscle. He groaned aloud. “Almost done Billy, just a few seconds more.” I flexed my thigh again.

I pulled him in closer, pretending to need a closer look at his phone. His chest squished into my breasts. I vibrated my powerful thigh muscle against his twitching cock. “That’s ok, Mrs. M., take your time,” he gasped for air between each syllable.  He squeezed my biceps then ran his hands up my shoulders, then back to my biceps.  I flexed them for him, tightening and loosening them so he could enjoy the feel of my muscles in his hands. I felt his hands start to shake as he rubbed them. “Wow, you sure are strong, Mrs. M,” he groaned between clenched teeth as his dick started blasting shot after shot of spunk into his jeans.

After long seconds, he finished, still gasping for breath. I patiently held him up until he’d calmed down then I stepped back. “I’m sorry, Billy, are you ok? I didn’t squeeze you too hard?” I said, pretending nothing unusual had happened. I handed him his phone.

“No, ma’am, I’m fine.” He was still breathing hard, but at least the thick bluejeans hid all the cum he’d pumped into them.

“Well, to make up for the loss of your video, why don’t you call the police and video the arrest. Just tell them you found him like this,” I told him.

“Are you sure? You’re a hero for capturing this guy.”

I shook my head. The cops knew I’d already beaten up one scumbag and I didn’t want them to think I was making a habit of it. “Credit’s yours, Billy, leave me out of it.” Fortunately, there turned out to be plenty of DNA evidence to prove the man guilty of at least three rapes so I didn’t have to feel bad about not going to the police.

Two weeks later.

“Happy Birthday, Tom. I think you’ll really love your present,” I told him as Katie and I sat on either side of him on the couch in the family room.

“Geeze, Honeybun, you shouldn’t have wasted your money. You know I have everything I want.”

Yep, no matter how hard I tried, I could never find Tom a present he really liked, until now. “This was free and I think you might appreciate it.” I hit the Google Chromecast and Billy’s video came up on the TV.

While Katie provided color commentary. Tom started saying, “Oh, my god, oh, my god,” again and again.

“Billy really has some skill with that camera,” Katie said. “Look how he got a close up of your fist slamming into the guy’s ribs.”

“Oh, god,” Tom moaned, he grabbed my hand, rolled my fingers into a fist and began kissing it.

“Now he pans up to the jerks face and you can see the agony he’s in.” Tom started pulling on his dick thru his pants.

“Then back to the ribs, oh, and look, right there, you can see his rib crack. Just as your fist really slams into it,” Katie continued. I pushed Tom’s hand off his dick and shoved my own hand into his pants - it was his birthday after all.

“Ooh, and now Billy gets a great shot of you. Mom, you look awesome with every muscle in your body bulging as your fists keep flying.

“Oh, god,” Tom moaned louder, his whole body stiffening beneath my hand. “Best birthday present ever.” As the video ended with the creep begging me to stop, Tom started firing. It escaped his pants and shot up my arm all the way to the elbow.

Katie tossed me a Kleenex box and said, “Gee, I hope you gave Billy something for his great work making this.”
As I wiped up, trying not to blush, I told her, “Oh, I think he found his compensation fair.”

“You know what I’d like to do now,” Tom said to me. “Let’s put it on slo-mo while you get on top of me and pretend to punch me like you did him.”

A week ago I would have been shocked at how much I loved that idea, but now I’d already started pushing him to the floor. We both looked up at Katie, who stared back at us. We both kept looking at her. “What? NOW I can’t watch?” she scowled. “Ok, ok, I’m going.” As she got to the door she asked, “Hey, Dad, would you like Mom to punch you like that for real?”

Dad looked at her like she was nuts. “Sure, but there’s no way she could do it without breaking all my ribs.”
“Hmm, maybe there is,” she said as she left.

(If there’s still interest, next time the prodigal son returns to find out how much his mom has changed.)

[Kujarer]

"Crossfit Katie" is here:  https://saradas.org/index.php?topic=731201.0

[jeffbeans]

Please continue Honeybun's stories! 

[elgat]

Chances are slim after more than a year, but I really enjoyed the story and it would be great to see a continuation. Thank you

[Mr.Purple357]

Thanks for the praise. But yeah, I've been working my Grandma Anne story and my Mighty Mouse story so I don't know if I'll be able to get back to this series anytime soon.