Muscle From the Woman's Perspective

[taoschild]

A little piece of a story my wife wrote for Backstories: A Companion to Muscle Love & Muscle Therapy https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/916676 The book is from the perspective of the two women in Muscle Therapy https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/916673 and Muscle Love https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/895860
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   That night when I went home after I checked on Lyndsey and paid the babysitter, I went into my room, tossed my keys on the dresser, and began unbuttoning my top. I caught a glance at my shoulder and my biceps in the full-length mirror by the closet. Remembering now how the girls had reacted to my muscle, I smiled a little. My shoulder were flaring and my arms, even unpumped, seemed so have gotten much bigger. I gave a little flex and saw what the girls had seen…mmmmm.. I stroked the peak with my other hand and felt a pronounced split. Maybe I’d grown a bit more than I realized of late. I reached up and took the clip that held my hair piled up loose in back and let it down. I shook the waves loose. BOOM, God I felt super sexy and powerful. I knew I had gotten stronger and bigger, but now with my buzz still raging I took more notice of what the girls had seen.  I began unbuttoning my top, slowly and sexily and watched my biceps and forearms. Yes, maybe, I was a bit turned on by myself, but I didn’t care. In fact, let’s be honest, I was completely aroused by my body.

   “Alexa, play Geronimo by Aura Dione” I called. The song began and I threw my blouse across the room and began swaying to the music fingering my six-pack abs. Suddenly, I remembered Lyndsey asleep in the next room. I ran to the door and closed it so she wouldn’t hear the music and walk in on mommy. I smiled at averting the potential emergency and then returned to the mirror. I resumed swaying again and slowly unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it. Watching my thigh muscles clench and unclench with the movement turned me on even more. I felt the wetness in my thong and I swayed my shoulders back and forth while my hands explored my muscularity. I twirled and raised my hands above my head, watching my ab muscles move with the effort. Finally, as the song reached the chorus, Gee, Gee ah Jojo Geronimo, I removed my bra and began to flex topless. Since I wasn’t dieted down as much as normal, my breasts were nice and full. I circled my nipples and chills ran through my body. I flexed my pecs like I’d seen bodybuilders do on the internet and marveled at how I could move them. God, I looked good, the definition in my biceps, the shoulders, the pecs. I cupped my bicep with my hand and felt its tremendous size and hardness. I took it all in and loved what I was seeing and growing hornier by the second.

   Wanting to watch my muscles work, I dropped to the floor and began to do some push-ups slowly. I eyed the striations in my shoulders and the pronounced divots in my triceps while my arousal continued to boil. I pledged to myself to continue pumping until the chorus resumed. When it did, I collapsed, red faced and laughed at myself for doing a drunk workout while still in my heels. Getting up to view the effects of the work, my redness and pump only fueled my arousal further.

   Eventually, as the song began to repeat the desire to take care of myself became overwhelming.  I played with the thong, pulled on it, and then slipped my hand along the side of it and felt the wetness with my fingertips. Looking down I saw that I still had my heels on so I turned around part way and noticed my favorite body part, my ass. Peering over my enormous shoulder I saw my hair reaching down almost to the small of my back, almost pointing to it. Though it hid my Christmas tree that I’d worked so hard to attain, the way it framed my granite hard glutes helped accentuated the muscle. My ass was so hard with divots on the side and I always admired its shapely and yes even slightly heart shaped appearance. I made a note to wear my new jeggings which accentuated it to Lyndsey’s Back to School Night on Tuesday evening. I spread my legs wide and went into a crouch marveling at my body’s muscularity and the distinct lines that ran down my legs and how my rounded butt swept into my hamstrings. The music took hold of me and I continued to move and stroke myself. I was dancing like a stripper, but flexing like a bodybuilder.

[Wookey]

Love this perspective. Congratulations to your wife.

[QBikk]

I read all of them and they are great. I can't wait to read the final part 

[jumpy999]

Thanks for sharing, Taoschild! I love reading female muscle stories from a female perspective. Not to get too personal, but knowing that there are women out there who share this fetish makes me feel less weird about enjoying it. You are a lucky man to have found a woman like that.

[taoschild]

No problem Jumpy & thanks Qbikk and Wookey.  Here is a little more of the scene from Backstories www.amazon.com/dp/B07MXLGQVB
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Slowly reaching my hands up to my head I began to play with my hair. Both hands ran through my thick blonde hair grabbing bunches and shaking it out fully. As I did I watched in the mirror how my powerful biceps flexed and grew flush with blood. The corded vein on top turned me on and I felt a spasm of desire shoot through me. The reaction of mine was almost visceral and seeing how my biceps popped with the motion gave me an understanding of why, when I fixed my hair in the gym, I felt many unseen eyes watching my movement. Finally, sexily, like I was performing for an audience other than myself, I pulled my thong down over my muscular legs. I turned once again to have my backside in the mirror and watched the black lacy thong slip down my bulging hamstrings. I bent down and straight legged faced my butt into the mirror and reached down and began to touch myself. I gasped with pleasure.

After a few second I couldn’t stand the arousal anymore so I moved to the bed flipped over onto my back and began working myself harder. I stroked my nipple and touched my pussy. I was so wet. I looked down at my body and moved the hand caressing my nipple to my biceps. The hardness of my bicep sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I felt my hips grinding to the rhythm of the music. Mmm, grinding, rolling, grinding and so wet it felt like a stream of desire was pouring over my leg. Suddenly I stopped, stunned with the sound of a loud moan. I had surprised myself with my own volume, I giggled, smiled and mmmm, began again. I lifted my leg up and pointed my toes fingering the cuts in my quads and marveling at my own tear drops with the long, red fake nails I had put on for the evening. Reaching behind to feel the incredible thickness in the belly of the muscle, more waves of pleasure released within me and I felt the release nearing a tremendous climax. My heart beat faster and little blips of pleasure warned me that it was coming. In one of my last voluntary moments I grabbed onto my bicep so I could feel its hardness twitch and swell during the experience. I felt it rise first slowly from my pussy before it spread like lightning within my spine into my chest and out through my fingertips. My feet felt hot and tingly and my body began to twitch spastically. The intensity was so high that I needed to stop touching myself, but I just couldn’t. Over and over again I came until finally out of energy I began to calm.

I thought I had reached completion after the incredibly intense orgasm, but I continued to finger my powerful bicep and felt like I was primed to have another go at it. A quiet knock at the door interrupted my dreamy post orgasm smile, and any such thoughts. “Mommy, what’s that noise, are you okay?”

I wrapped myself in the sheet and ran to the closet to throw on a robe responding to her. “Yah sweetie” my voice was even despite the jangle in my nerves and the loss of my breath, “Mommy is alright. I’ll be right out to put you back to bed.”

[taoschild]

Another small "fiction" piece from my wife in Backstories. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/916676
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         Social constructs say that it’s okay for a woman to get fit and want to change the way her body looks, but not get strong. There was a certain misogyny at the gym and an expectation that women either shouldn’t be there, or should be ancillary. But I always wanted to be powerful and strong. And I didn’t care. Strength and muscle is supposed to be associated with masculinity, but for me nothing was more sensual than muscle and power on a woman. I wish that the idea of femininity wasn’t round, soft, small, and weak. But in the end, it didn’t matter, I was going to get strong whether society liked it or not.

          The idea that I could get stronger than an average man grew as I did. When I first started lifting, that idea never entered my mind. But as I became comfortable at the gym and with weights, more and more I would lift next to the men. Not a lot of women sought out the squat rack, but early on, I began to measure my success by how much I could squat. Sure, women were working on their legs and most notably, their asses. But for many, “the rack,” as it was called, was intimidating.

   I remember lifting next to a guy who had already started. I didn’t intend to outfit him, but as I began to add more weight, I noticed I was coming close. Yes, I’m competitive and yes, I tried to lift more than he did. He gave me a good-natured smile as he left and I had passed his max squat. That wasn’t always the response. I’ve had men leave once they see how much weight I lift. Today, when I see a woman lifting a lot of weight at the squat rack, I stop and watch. I love to see any woman out lift a man. Not because I want men to feel badly, but because we can and it feels good to step outside the social facade of what a woman can do.

   That’s how it started but once I began to lift more and realized I could push the limits, something clicked and I became obsessed with getting stronger. It was no longer a game, it was a need, like I had struck a nerve I didn’t know I had. This is the time I also decided I wanted to lift more than Rick. Not just any man, but an athletic man who I knew worked out. While Rick was away I was going to do everything I could to close the gap.

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[QBikk]

Is a sequel to Muscle Therapy planned? I'd really love to hear the end about Kyle and Josie
Cheers

[taoschild]

Interesting question Qbikk. I've actually outlined the story with my wife, but she is not up to co-writing it right now. If and when she is ready, we will write the story which is likely to be my last sthenolagnia/FMG novel.  I might still write some short stories for charity, but I've seemed to lost the impetus to go all out to develop new novels for now.  Believe it or not, I'm considering writing a sci-fi/fantasy with a muscular female protagonist - but not really have it about Sthen or Crat.

Thanks for your support.