Domestic Muscle

[Wookey]

Great story. Even better with emotion added.

[Gertos]

A very sweet little interlude, and I think the updates like this one are why we're so invested in the story. Thanks again for all your hard work!

[jcboyd]

"And Mom?  When can I start lifting to be just like you?"

[Jayder]

Glad people liked the little emotional interlude! This chapter is big and loaded with muscle, just like our Sarah.


Chapter 7: Maxing Out


Sarah trudged through the next couple of days, but the support that Abby showed her seemed to steel her emotions come Saturday morning. It was a good thing too because Abby was flying by herself down to Florida to visit Sarah’s parents for the week. I was thinking of flying down with her and flying back but was convinced otherwise. The airline had special minor rules for kids 5-12 so that made us feel better too.

Abby wouldn’t be the only one having fun though. Sarah and I hadn’t taken a proper vacation alone since our honeymoon and with me being free from work and Abby being at Sarah’s parents we figured now was the best time. Since it was our first vacation in a while, I booked us five days in one of those over-the-water bungalows at a five-star resort in Bora Bora. Yea, being loaded had its perks.

We got Abby to the airport Saturday around noon. We had a full day of travel the next day in order to get to the resort. But when we got home, we had something special planned. A full workout session together. Surprisingly, it was something that we never really did together, even though we both hit the gym basically daily. Sarah still worked out early, and sometimes again after she got home, and I had been lifting around noon every day.

I had gotten serious about lifting and was quite proud of the progress I’d made. And Sarah had become the mass monster that she promised when dialing everything back up to 10. Sure, I could’ve gone down and watched her lift whenever, but always gave her the alone time when she was down there. It was her temple; I didn’t like to distract her. Besides, I wanted to wait till she was ready to really blow my socks off and it appeared now was that time.

After we got home, Sarah ate a big meal while I changed into workout clothes. Eating was like a full time job for her nowadays. She was regularly eating upwards of 8,000 calories to gain all that mass despite the insane amount of lifting and working she did. After dowing her big meal she asked me to make us a couple of pre-workout drinks before getting changed herself. I did just that, 2 scoops for her and 1 for me. Then I went downstairs to the weightroom and sipped my drink.

It was still chilly outside but we both always agreed to keep the weightroom hot at all times. It was a dungeon weight room. You needed to sweat down here. Sarah had the idea that instead of just doing a normal workout that we would do a mock-powerlifting meet, showing off our strength gains and max out on Squat-Bench-Deadlift. Obviously I wanted to see my wife’s supreme body put to the test, but I also wanted to see my own progress.

I was in a tank top and shorts, and started doing some dynamic stretches while vainly admiring myself in our wall-to-wall mirrors. I’d put on a decent amount of muscle and was fairly ripped after the seven months on the testosterone Sarah got me. My arms were cut and defined, I had a decent six-pack, nice capped shoulders and had made good strength gains as well. With Sarah’s guidance and some hard work,  I had developed the “Brad Pitt in Fight Club” type of physique that was always in style.

I really had made good progress, but when describing me you still had to use qualifiers. I looked big and ripped, but I wasn’t much more than 150 pounds. I was strong, for someone my weight and height. I could look massive in pictures, if the angle and lighting was just right. I was vascular and pumped, after a good workout. You get it. Not to take anything away from me, I was in good shape, better than the vast majority of men. But again, when describing how good my body was, you had to use qualifiers.

No such qualifiers were needed to describe my wife though. She was just Big. Ripped. Strong. Vascular. Pumped. Massive. No qualifiers. I was bent down stretching my hamstrings when I heard the door open behind me.

“Mmmm… Don’t you look scrumptious” her low voice rumbled through the room. One of the changes from her newest cycle was another deepening of her voice. I popped out of the stretch and turned around, only to be disappointed to see she was covered head to toe in clothes. She was wearing a massive pair of grey sweatpants with a matching grey sweatshirt. She really committed to the bit too, as her hoody was even up with the string pulled so I could only see the sharp strong features of her face. To my surprise she had put makeup on. That’s right, even the most muscular woman in the world wore makeup to the gym.

“Honey, why are you wearing all that? I want to see you. That’s the whole point of this.” I complained

“Don’t worry stud, you will. It’s a pump cover. I don’t’ want you to see me till I am warmed up.”

“That’s ridiculous Sare, I see you naked every day. It’s not like your body is going to be a surprise”

“Ehhh… don’t be so sure of yourself. This pre-workout always gives me a crazy pump right away” she rumbled as she took several large gulps from the water bottle I’d made her.

“All right, if you say so.” I sighed and put a plate on the bench for warmups, calling out behind me as I did “…But that sweatsuit makes you look like the Yeti cosplaying as Rocky Balboa.”

Before I knew it I was airborne. Hoisted several feet up and pinned between my wife’s powerful forearms and her thickly muscled chest. Even through her sweatshirt I could just feel the size of her forearms as the two columns of beef covered all the space between my hip bones and my ribs. My feet were left dangling in the air as she bear hugged me.

“You know? I’m not sure why I put up with all your sass honey” She said playfully as she began to twirl us and jerk me around bit, my legs flying back and forth as she did.
I tried to free myself, I really did. I wrapped my hands around her forearms and tried to pry them off me, my hand covering less than half of each oak branch. I tried and tried and tried till I was losing breath from the effort and from her applying increased pressure against my torso with each failed attempt to escape. It was futile, I wasn’t getting out unless she wanted me to.

“Awww, what’s the matter baby? Don’t like dealing with consequences of your jokes?” she whispered in my ear as she continued to laugh and ragdoll me around the gym. “You know that I could have scores of people lining up to replace you, right? Men and women alike. All I’d have to do is start an Insta**** and the muscle-lovers would come flocking.” Then she got close again and whispered in my ear “Come on hun, remind momma why she keeps you around?”

“*eerrgghh* Shit.” I struggled to get some air against her and then just kind of hung limply to avoid the struggle, she loosened her grip on me a bit, not wanting to accidentally hurt me. “Well, its gotta be my wit, my charm, my dashing looks, and because you love being dominated by your big strong husband.” This caused a hearty laugh as she gently lowered me back to the ground and let me go. Most men would feel emasculated if their wife tossed them around like a child does a stuffed animal. Not me though, I was as hard as Pittsburgh Steel.

“Ahhh, that’s right, its because you make me laugh.” And she kissed my on the top of my head as she unwrapped me from her boa constrictor arms. “Come on lets warm-up” Her enthusiasn and excitement was infectious

She laid her tremendous bulk onto the bench, our extra-wide bench disappeared from my sight under her. She popped the 135 pounds off the supports and ripped out 20 reps at varying speeds, stretching her pecs out beneath her sweatshirt with each rep. I could hear the fabric groan each time she hit her full range of motion. I hopped on next and hit 5 slow reps, followed by 5 fast ones. Then we did the same for squats and deadlifts, rotating between the three as we warmed up.

I topped off my bench warmups with 5 smooth reps of 185, hit 3 nice squats at 235, and a lightning fast 315 deadlift. I was feeling strong today, spurred on by the awe-inspiring warmups coming from my gym partner. It took a few extra minutes for her to finish her warmups so I just watched her. It wasn’t just the weights, they were high for warmups but not mindboggling. It was the ease with she hit each rep. She ended with a set of 8 on each exercise: 315 bench, 405 squat, 495 deadlift. All of them as fast, precise, and easy as if I was using the bar.

“That got the blood flowing” she rumbled as she shook out her arms and legs after finishing the last deadlift, I could see the swells of her muscles quake and move underneath the sweats. Since it was so hot down here a heavy sheen of sweat covered her face already and the grey garments were beginning to be soaked with sweat, especially on her double wide back. I could tell she was pumping out flexes underneath her clothes too, her muscles bunching to life against the strained sweats.

Then she crunched forward into a crab pose, her neck bulging outwards and snaked with big veins. I could hear threads snapping a bit as she held the pose and breathed out heavily, threads fraying around her basketball-sized shoulders. I was so turned on because that sweatshirt was so big I could have lived in it, I know because I put it on one day for shits and giggles. I wasn’t a huge guy but I wasn’t some dainty snowflake and I looked like a toddler wearing their father’s dress shirts for a funny photo in that sweatshirt. And here it was submitting to my wife’s bulk.

“All right, its time for the weigh-in.” She said as she relaxed her flex.

“Yea? We’re doing a whole weigh-in? How about you pull off those sweats then Sare? You can’t weight yourself in those…”

“Relax, I’ll get my turn” she winked at me “but you go first. Hop-up.” she tapped the scale with her foot.

“Ok, hear goes” I pulled off my shirt and did the little bicep flex that fighter’s do when they weigh in, flexing my abs. Two nice balls popped out from my arms, not quite baseballs but not too far off. My tight stomach crunched into a light six pack as I held my flex.

“Mmmm, you look like such a snack honey. All right, for you we have a weight of 155. Wow, you’ve put on 15 pounds and your body fat has got to be around 10%, excellent progress. Ok and now for height…” It was one of those scales that double as a height measuring device too, so I hopped up and faced away, while she grabbed the stadiometer and started lowering it on top of my head. She was quiet for a few seconds as she steadied it.

“You. Little. Liar.” She snapped with a deep chuckle as she settled on the number.

“What?”

“You always told me you were 5’7”.”

“I am 5’7!” I said defensively

“Nuh-uh. I’m staring at it right now, hun. You are 5’6 and ¾”

“Oh, come on that’s the same thing Sarah.”

“It is not. 5’6 and ¾ is 5’6 and ¾ not 5’7”.” Then she laughed again “I dunno, John… I’m not sure I would’ve started dating you if I’d known you were only 5’6”.”

“Haha now you are just being mean, I’m definitely not 5’6. And I’m sorry, not all of us have unheard of growth spurts on their anabolics. All right take off those damn sweats before I keel over.” She chuckled again, clearly quite amused by the whole situation and she grabbed the bottom of the sweatshirt and pulled the sweaty thing over her monumental torso.

Like I said, I’d seen Sarah naked almost everyday during her bulk the last 7 months. But I still went wide-eyed every time she revealed her body in all its glory like this. She had altered her training a bit to focus strength and size and that combined with her 10 hours of grueling work she did a day slinging around hundreds of pounds of concrete had created a distinct look, wider, thicker, and more powerful looking than before. She had lost some of the shredded look she had at 240 and gained a bit more body fat but not as much as I would have guessed considering how much she ate now. She sacrificed some of the classic flow of a bodybuilder’s physique, packing as much she-beef as she could on her ever-growing frame.

She was just brutally large, like a statue carved by the most muscle-lusting schmoe. Her armor-plated torso was the first thing to see the light as she pulled off her top, eight fist-sized abs bulged outward from her torso.  She finished undressing and revealed the tight—there’s that word again—ensemble underneath. There wasn’t an inch on my wife’s body that wasn’t covered in swollen, chemically-enhanced beef, each great bloated muscle belly encroached against its neighbor, as if her muscles were climbing on top of each other in a fight for oxygen and space.

Her pecs filled out her pink sports bra better than her tits would have 15 years ago, full and engorged shelves of muscle. She was wearing white short-shorts that I always referred to as tree-huggers as they clung for dear life to her Sequoia quads, each quad muscle stood separately from the others and cascaded down her enormous limb. Shoulders like beachballs. Arms as big as my legs. Legs as big as my waist. Back like an aircraft carrier. Saying she had the traps of a bull wouldn’t do it justice, more like one of the freakish myostatin deficient bulls.

A big surprise though was her hair style, which had been obscured by her hood. She had beautiful, luscious hair that she obsessively maintained and pampered. It was her main physical feature that was untouched by the steroids, although I knew she was proactive about it. She hadn’t cut her hair in what seemed like years and today she had it tied up in a thick braid that tumbled down her mountainous back like a waterfall, plunging down right above her planetary ass. The braided hair gave her a fierce flair, like an unbeaten Dothraki Khaleesi riding in to conquer the weights.

“You’ve got the rest of the day to stare honey. Let’s see how much momma weighs” Her deep voice interrupted my train of thought. This cycle had pushed her voice lower on the register, lower than mine but still with that velvety femininity that she’s always had.

As she stepped on the scale it took a second to settle and display the number after the shock that the motherboard was just put under. Sarah was facing forward with her eyes closed and a small satisfied smile as she waited for me to read the number. I started laughing when it popped up.

“Two Hundred and Eighty-Two pounds.” She moaned softly as I read the number. “That’s fucking ridiculous Sarah, at like the same body fat as me.”

“Music to my ears, about forty pounds in 7 months. Height?” She asked as I reached my arms up high to balance the stadiometer on her as she towered over me.

“Step away, I can’t see over your big ass body” I said as I got it flat against her skull. She stepped off and waited patiently.

“That’s so crazy.” I muttered before announcing clearly “6 foot 2, flat. I don’t know how that keeps happening but I’m not going to complain.” I knew she was enormous but putting numbers to it put it all in perspective, only the very biggest men could top her. She had a satisfied look on her face, I think she was finally content with her growth but you could never know.

“Yea I don't know how I keep growing, but I can’t complain, its cool. Must be some reaction to the HGH I guess. Maybe we can donate my body to science.”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not sharing this body with anyone.” I pulled myself towards my obscenely muscular wife and smashed my face against her shoulder, which was bigger than my head. “Fuck science, they can’t have you” I muffled as my hard-on bored into the middle of her thigh, she looked down at it and smiled.

“That can wait till later. Let’s lift!” And she gently pushed me away, brushing her big hand against my cock and making me shiver. “Squats first like a real meet. We are warmed up so we each get three max attempts.” She had went over to the white board she had on here and wrote both our names at the top, with the letters S, B, D, and T for total underneath so she could record the numbers.

“All right, me first?” I said

“Usually these meets start with the lower weights first.”

“O never mind that changes everything then...”

I started with 325 on squat because I knew I hit that for 3 last week. After nailing it I went to 345, which was my max but I figured I could hit more. That went down and up so I threw 365 on the bar.

“You sure your opener isn’t lower than this?” I said sarcastically as I approached the bar. She was leaning against the dumbbell racks and just muttered “That’s cute, hun” in response.

I got under the weight, mashed the bar up against my shoulders and back and hefted it off the rack. I wobbled a bit as it was way over twice my body weight and took two steps back. I closed my eyes and took a couple deep breaths as she started yelling words of encouragement. Then I lowered the weight, hit my depth and started pushing up, stalling majorly at my sticking point halfway up, my torso starting to bend forward a bit from the strain.

“PUSH. PUSH. PUSH. YOU GOT THIS!!” Sarah bellowed out as I broke my sticking point and got the weight all the way up, before racking it. I went over to the bench she was sitting at and she gave me a big double high five as I sat next to her.

“Awesome job, John. You pushed the hell out of that. You couldn’t even do 225 when you started, I think you’ve doubled your strength.” I was tired from the effort so I just sunk into her sweaty embrace and muttered a thank you. I placed my hand over her thigh, easily over 30 inches and just pulsing with power, she could probably single leg squat my max with all that pumped mass. I rubbed it up and down, it was covered lightly with blonde hairs. I was lost in massaging the big limb when she interrupted me.
“Sorry, babe” She said, I looked at her puzzled. “I was gonna shave but didn’t get around.” Body hair was another side-effect that had accelerated lately. She normally shaved but it was never anything that grossed me out, it was dense but light and fine and not coarse.

“Oh, that’s fine, you know it doesn’t bother me. Women have body hair, honey, nothing wrong with that.”

“I know, I’m getting used to it more but don’t always love not shaving it. Anyways, my turn now” She said and walked over to the weight tree, grabbing huge 100 pound plates that she had bought in each hand. She kept three 45s on each side and threw a 100 on. Then she pinched two 45s in one hand and two 35s in the other, loading them on equally.

“675?” I said, as I did the plate math in my head. She just nodded as she approached the bar. Lowered underneath it and in one quick motion she popped it off the rack and stepped back. No big breaths or theatrics. Then she squatted down, her thighs and ass bloating outwards and condensing as she powered the weights back up.

“Jesus, that was fast, Sarah”

“Thanks. Yea it felt really good.” Then she thought for a second and put on two more 25s. After a couple minutes she repeated the process, popping the weights off the rack and taking two quick steps back. This time she settled a bit before lifting. Her traps seemed to swallow the barbell on her neck and her thighs were so pumped and wide that they mashed up against each other even with her feet shoulder width apart. She lowered down, and powered up. Slower than before but just as smooth.

She thought for a minute as I waited breathlessly to see what her final attempt would be, since 725 flew. She took off the 35s and 25s and replaced them on each side with another of the massive 100 pounders. Then she stared at the great iron edifice sitting on the rack for a second before scrunching her face up and grabbing two more little five pounders. 815 on the bar. I didn’t say a word, I just let Gordan Ramsey cook since she looked so focused.

This time even my great beast of a wife shook a bit under the pressure of the weight as she walked it out. She took a couple moments to steady the weight and brace against her weight belt. Then she descended, hit the hole and like a hydraulic press just kept moving. The rep was slow but never in doubt, each time it seemed a sticking point was coming she just kept rising until she was upright.

“Unbelievable Sarah” She had slumped down on the bench next to me and grunted an out-of-breath thanks. I stood up and massaged her dense shoulders, my hard cock pressing into her dense back. “Cardio break?” I whispered into her ear as I continued to massage into her on multiple levels.

“Hehehe, no time for that, stay disciplined. It’s time to bench.” Then she popped up and went over to the bench. I was up first so had her load two plates on one side while I did the other. A classic weight to start with. It’s a weight thats taken for granted these days but for men my size it was no trivial thing. Still though, it was a safe weight for me and I climbed under the bench and banged out a quick rep before Sarah even got close to spot.

“Nice job, but wait for me to help spot next time.”

“Oh, I will next couple attempts but I knew I had that one.” I was pumping my chest up a bit by pushing my hands against each other, while seated on the bench and leaning against the bar. From behind me Sarah draped her beefy forearms on my shoulders and started feeling up my chest, her huge hands completely engulfed my pecs.

“You crushed that one hun, what are you thinking for attempt number two?” I replied by saying 250, it was above what I’d done before but I was pretty confident.

This time I waited for her to get behind me for a spot but told her to stay back a bit and let me struggle. I set up under the bar and hefted it up. My arms shook as this was the most weight they’d held up before. Then I brought the bar down slowly and powered it off my chest. It was a long, slow rep but it was never really in doubt. I hit a hiccup halfway up as the left side started moving slower than the right but I muscled through it.

“Nice fight, John. You had a little more in the tank after that one too.”

“Thanks” I grunted. “Yea, I think my grip was a little imbalanced. Let’s try 275 for my last one.”

“You sure?” she said with raised eyebrows.

“Yea, it felt better than it looked. I think if I fix my grip I’ll get it.” She looked skeptical but didn’t protest. It felt like Sarah was pulsing an aura around her that boosted my strength, I knew I could hit it.

She stood much closer to me now. Looming above me like a great obelisk. While laying on the bench I could see her she-bulge poking against her stretched-to-the-limit shorts. Naturally, it had gotten bigger the last few months, looking like a little thumb now when she was aroused. Sucking on it was like a cheat code for getting her to orgasm. Nothing made me feel more masculine than making my mass monster wife quake, quiver, and moan in pleasure like that.

“Careful Sare, don’t get too close or you’ll poke my eye out with that thing” I said, smirking and staring at her crotch.

“Haha, shut the fuck up and bench, John. All your jokes are making me impatient” She said while laughing. Before bending over so her face was closer to mine “Don’t make me stick this thing in your mouth and shut you up myself.”

“Now don’t go threatening me with a good time.” I smiled smugly, and then focused myself before gripping the bar as hard as I could and pushing like hell. It wobbled and shook above my chest. The pressure on my wrist was so intense I almost re-racked it but I committed to the lift.

Sarah started yelling as soon as the bar started moving off my chest. “PUSH PUSH PU…” she was interrupted by the bar changing directions and falling back towards me. I had bit off more than I could chew and my bar path was off, the barbell drifted too far from my chest and I lost control. I braced as it hurtled towards my neck as I tried desperately to push against it. Then it stopped in its tracks as my wife’s hands plucked onto the bar and held it aloft right above my neck. A millisecond later it was back on the rack as she basically flipped it on and came over and kneeled next to me.

“Are you ok? Did you get hurt?” She asked tenderly as she helped me sit up.

“I’m fine… not hurt. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t there though, thanks.” I looked over at her kneeling next to me and kissed her. “You were right. I shouldn’t have tried that.”

“No, you almost had it. You just let the bar drift. I think you had the strength for it.” I smiled, it was a nice thing to say but probably a lie. I gestured toward the bench for her.

“Your turn m’lady”. It was go time. Everybody and their crazy Uncle benched. Maxing out on bench was a litmus test, a measuring stick with which men all over the world tested their masculinity. It had been a long time since I’d seen my wife do it and to say I was excited was an understatement.

“Ok, let me get another quick warm-up in” she winked and climbed under the bar with the remnants of my failure still on it.

“You show-off” I said as she handled the weight that almost crushed me to death like it was paper-mâché and ripped out 10, 20, 30 reps. No real signs of slowing down as she got to 30 either, maybe just a bit slower.

“Errgghh, that felt good. Thanks for having my warmup weight ready for me, babe.” I guess that was a little payback for my clit comment earlier.

Then she took off the 25 from each side, kept them on the bench and loaded another 45 pound plate on each side to make 315. Then she loaded another. And another. Then she put the 25s back on for an incomprehensible 545.

“That’s attempt number one!?!?” I said incredulously. In my mind I pegged around this as her max but I also figured she’d be low 700s on squat so I needed to recalibrate my expectations. She was astonishingly strong.

Her meat factory of a chest made 545 her bitch, as she powered the weight towards the ceiling. Big, thick veins fed her bulbous pecs now, which were pushing up against her thickly muscled neck as she lay on the bench.

“Let’s get six plates on each side, babe” She rasped while laying and stretching out her chest. I obliged, replacing a 25 with a 45 and bringing the total to 585. I stood behind her to spot but was kinda unsure how much I could help if something went awry.

585 steadily went down to her chest. 585 steadily went up with a guttural growl. “*errghh* shit that felt good. Bout to break into the 600-club. I think 605 is the gonna do it for me..”

“Jesus, Sare. I don’t know If I can help much spotting.” Some concern in my voice.

“Oh, you’ll be fine.” Her deep voice reassuring me before chuckling to herself and staring at my tented shorts. “Besides, you’ve got three arms to help you out.”

“All right, we're even.” She just giggled in response and took a sip of water. I loaded 605 on for her. She sat for a few minutes with her back away from me, its breadth breath-taking. As she scooted back to get in position I leaned forward and smacked her armor-plated lats three times. Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Let’s go Babe, you got this!”

Her big knuckles turned white as she gripped the bar. I had no doubt that if she did that to my hand I’d have to go to the hospital. She heaved the weight up and slowly brought it over her chest. The barbell was sagging slightly on each side under the tremendous weight. It was frightening watching that much weight sway above my wife. She steadied the bar and it descended until the warm steel kneaded against her beat red chest.

We were both holding our breath for different reasons and as the bar lifted away from her chest, a weight was lifted off mine as well. Shakily and with great effort it inched further and further up until she locked it out. The bar landed with a rattle, shaking the ground around us. I slipped under the bar and gave her a hug from behind, my arms barely stretching around her wide torso, grasping at her inflated pecs. As I fondled her pecs she pushed her arms forward and grunted into a most muscular, my arms stretching wider around her as she inflated her huge body even more, I pawed at her swollen muscles and could feel big fat veins wriggle to life.

“That was unbelievable. One of the most incredible things I’ve seen”. She looked back and kissed me, then rubbed her nose against mine.

“Thanks, yea I gotta say I’m proud of that one? All right, last one.”

It was on to deadlifts. I loaded up 365 on the platform as she toweled off her body and got some water. The weight went up easy for me so I loaded 405. Slightly slower but still decent. I decided to end with 430 and was delighted when I smoked it, though the form wasn’t exactly pretty. I went over to the board and updated my totals: 365-250-430 for a total of 1045.

Sarah was loading the weights up as I finished. Attempt 1 was 685, lower than I thought. And my thoughts were confirmed as she stood up with the weight so fast I thought she was going to throw it through the roof.

“Oops, I started too low. That’s all right, I like making big jumps on deadlift.” And a big jump she made as she went all the way up to 800 pounds. She curled her massive body up and gripped the bar. Then she extended her legs straight a couple times and I repositioned to get a view from the back. Her hamstrings balled up mightily as she crouched and lengthened into big columns of power leading to her bulbous glutes like a multi-lane highway.

With a grunt she shook the bar and started pulling up. I could see her neck flare wider through the mirror, veins pumping across it as a growl emanated from her throat. Her legs shook a bit from the strain but the bar rose up at an easy pace. She probably had two more reps at that weight from the looks of that one. She lowered it with a crash and walked around to shake out her legs.

“How much do I need to double your total?” she huffed as the rattle of the plates subsided.

“You had to have already doubled me, you probably did it with your first attempt.” She smiled and rolled her shoulders up and back a few times, her obscene delts and back rippling and bulging as she did.

“Well, that’s good to hear, I’ll shoot for a big PR then.” And then she loaded one more 25-pound plate on each side. The sleeve was completely full of plates, she could barely cinch the clip on. Then she stalked around the room like a lioness, shaking her arms and shoulders out. She was breathing and grunting loudly and smacking her massive ass to hype herself up.

I went over to the board, ready to record 845 as her last number and do the math. The woman couldn’t fail. She was inevitable. She gripped the bar in her big paws, rolled it back and forth a bit and exploded upwards, a guttural growl pulsing from her throat. Her body erupted with the effort, every muscle inflating and twitching in response to the task at hand. The bar groaned as it shot off the ground to her knee, bending considerably from the stress of the columns of metal on each end. Instead of sliding up against her thighs, the bar drifted a bit away from her shins. Her colossal back started to bend to try and get the bar back on track but it was too late, she buckled and the weight fell to the ground with a crash.

“God damnit! Erggghhhh… that was so stupid.” She shouted before turning to the mirror and yelling at herself “Finish the lift Sarah! Fuck”

“Its all right babe, you just let it get away from you.”

“I know” she sighed and took a couple deep breaths to calm herself “It’s just frustrating because I had the strength for it. O well, I’ll get it next time. What were our final totals?”

“I squatted 365, benched 250, and deadlifted 430, which are all PRs” She gave a beaming smile. “for a total of 1045.”

“After a little over 6 months of serious training, very impressive hun. I’m proud.” Part of me felt my progress was inadequate after seeing what my wife lifted, but those numbers at my bodyweight weren’t too bad. So, I was proud as well, and I couldn’t have done it without her, on multiple levels.

“And my beastly wife has narrowly edged me out with an 815 squat, 605 bench, and 800-pound deadlift for a ridiculous total of 2,220.” She took a little bow and gesticulated with her hand as she did. I went over and draped my arms up and around her neck as she leaned down and kissed me. My bulge pressing up and against hers.

“I have one more thing I want to try.” She said to me. I looked up at her puzzled, I was hoping it was time to get a big protein meal and indulge in a little adult action.

“Yea, what’s that?”

“Here, it’ll be easier if I show you.” And she beckoned me over to the platform again, which we cleared. Then she laid all the way down on her back.

“I do these things called Turkish get-ups sometimes. Where I hold a big dumbbell in one hand above my chest while lying down and then stand all the way up with it. Really fun one as it hits big muscles and stabilizers.”

“Ok…. so we are going to max that too?” she laughed.

“Nope, I want to try it with your body.”

“You want to hold me with one arm while laying down and then stand up with me in your one arm?

“Exactly! I saw this tik*** of a built lady doing it with this small girl, so I wanted to try my hand at it.” Then she sat down on the ground and held her arm straight out to the side. “Here, you just kinda curl up into a ball around my arm.” I moved in a position so that her arm was across my chest and under my armpits, then she grasped onto my bicep. Then I brought my knees up and hugged the backside of my legs to create a human knot around her arm. Then she swung her torso down so she was flat on the ground and thrust me above her chest like she was going to do a one arm bench press.

“Oh, this isn’t too bad.” She said as I hovered above her muscled chest. “Ok, hear goes, don’t miss the show” She extended her other arm out on the ground for balance, and then rocked our combined weight towards that arm and propped her torso off the ground with it. Her abs protruded obscenely as her thick core easily braced her body. Her legs stretched out wide, I was astonished she was so flexible for being so massive. She grunted slightly as she rocked forward onto her knee while simultaneously bringing me up and above her head now. Her arm wasn’t even shaking, I could feel the beef in her forearm twitch and bulge against my pecs. She barely stayed kneeling for more than a moment before hurtling us up like she was doing a lunge jump.

“Whew, I did it.” She said proudly while parading me around the gym above her head. “That was a lot easier than I thought. Maybe if you keep bulking it’ll be more of a challenge next time.” She laughed. She was so giggly today, the incident from a few days ago seemed to be far from her mind.
“That was crazy, your core absolutely blew up. I’m happy to stuff my face if it means doing this again.”

“Well, we did all that chest but I need a little shoulder work now.” She said as I felt my body lowering down until her massive bicep was pressed up against my comparatively tiny one, before she reversed my direction and pressed me back up. She shoulder pressed my body with one hand 4 more times, grunting heavily as she did. Then she squatted down so she was on one knee again and reversed the Turkish get-up until we were back on the ground.

I think I was breathing harder than she was after the whole thing.

“That was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen you do.”

“Thanks for being such a good helper, the best I could ask for.” And she kissed me on the forehead and pulled me into her so that our torsos were pressed against each other. My dick lurched up into the mass of her thigh as her clit pressed up against my lower ab. My lips were in line with her pecs and I just started kissing the big sweaty blocks of beef, fondling her hard nipples through her sports bra.

“Mmmm, that feels so good.” She said while tilting her head back, her long braid falling further down her backside. “You mentioned something about cardio earlier?” she rumbled softly.

My hands shot down to my waist band before she finished the last word, pulling my shorts and underwear down in one motion. It was like she broke the damn by asking. Being so close to her mind-numbing musculature, seeing her put up elite powerlifter numbers, and then having her literally use my body as dumbbell had me uncontrollably aroused.
“God damn, I thought you’d never ask.” I blurted out as she smiled wildly and shimmied her shorts down. She started to kneel down and eye my aching cock hungrily. “No, Sare, I don’t need the foreplay, I just wanna be inside you.”

“Fair enough” she purred deeply, and started pulling her sweaty sports bra off. She was so sweaty and bloated with muscle that she was having a hard down getting it over her continental lats and ridged back. She huffed and pulled from the other side, a vein snaked on her forehead.

“Fuck this” she rasped and placed her big hand between the canyon that her pecs created, grasped her sports bra and just started pulling outwards. To the garment’s credit, it didn’t relent easily as she pulled it out about arms length and arched her muscled back further back before I saw the sides fray. Then she grunted and ripped it free. Revealing those two blocks of muscle she called pecs, her nipples like bullets honing in on me.

We were both naked now as she lurched towards me, and put her catcher mitt hands under my armpit and lifted me towards and into her. As we started making out I rubbed my dick on her obliques, feeling the serrated muscles through a thin layer of fat. She seemed to want to fuck me in this position again, it seemed to have become her favorite. She held all the power in the position. Holding me up, my body wrapped around hers while we fucked and I used her body like a jungle gym.

I had other ideas though; I was horned up and wanted to do what a red-blooded man does and take my wife. So, I wordlessly maneuvered myself so I was standing again while making out with her the whole time. She followed my lead, if she really wanted to fuck me in that previous position I’d still be up in her embrace. We stood there near the rack of dumbbells for a minute making out and exploring each other’s muscles with our hands. Me digging through all her beef and her caressing my toned physique. Then I made my move and put my hand gently on her big back and pushed. Then I kind of rotated and slipped to the side of her. She got the message with a wry smile.

I finished sliding around her body and she bent her torso and stuck out her ass in a doggy-style position once I got behind her. She was bent at 90 degrees now, her blocky chest pressed up forcefully against several of the dumbbells. She cooed out in front of me.

“Oooh, yea. I like where your head is at. I want you to fuck me honey, fuck me hard. Leave an imprint of these weights on my face.” I grunted loudly as her deep voice bellowed through the room, my eyes almost rolling in the back of my head with arousal.

I placed my hands on her ass, covering as much of the glorious mounds as I could, prodding and probing the mounds of flesh under my skin. So dense and thick, I wouldn’t be able to get into her like this. Her hamstrings bloated out as she rotated her legs out a bit, the corded muscles parting to the side to reveal her muscular cunt. I slammed my hips against her and succumbed to my lust.

There were many wonderful things about being married to Sarah, she was smart, confident, nurturing, and strong in every sense of the word. And boy could she take it. The testosterone that I’d been taking ratcheted up my already high sex drive, but it also warped it in a way. I had become slightly more aggressive; it didn’t impact my day to day but it was harder to control my urges when I was horny. I just wanted to fuck like an animal sometimes.

And I was lucky. I was lucky that my wife was so incredibly built that I could lose myself in my attraction to her. I didn’t have to hold back, I didn’t have to worry about going easy on her, I could just submit completely to my most animalistic urges. Because she could take it. I could grab and squeeze her as hard as I wanted, pull on her arms and waist, slam my whole body into her. She could take it all and then some.

Today was no different, I entered into Sarah’s warm muscular cunt and started railing her, pressing her thick ridged back down as hard as I could, her pecs mashing into the dumbbell rack. I probed each thick muscle belly and squeezed her lats for dear life. Deep sounds of pleasure emanated from my wife the whole time as I rocketed back and forth, slapping my body against her ass as much as I could.

Closing my eyes, I could almost picture her in this position from when we first met. Tall and athletic had turned into enormous and freakishly muscular. Soft moans had turned deeper and velvety. I opened my eyes, greeted by reality again. And what a beautiful reality it was. The contrasting portrait of the two of us staring back at me in the mirror was breathtaking. My fit torso poked above her mammoth bent over figure. My abs and pecs were nicely pumped and covered in sweat, as my toned arms gripped and slapped all the different slabs of beef on Sarah.

After a couple minutes I found a new target, that big beautiful braid that wound down her sculpted back. I, firmly but gently, grasped it in my hand and tugged a bit. She arched her neck up and moaned, it was so thick I could see the muscled bulges from the back. She grunted like a bull and shuddered as I continued to tug her braid and pound her She-donis body.

“Oooohh, yes, yes. That’s it. Fuck me harder, fuck me harder honey. Finish us off.” We were so sweaty and wet and she was so massive that it was hard for me to stay in her. Still though I stuck to her like Velcro and pumped and pumped and pumped till I unleashed a mother load inside of her, shooting rope after rope and filling my wife up best I could.

I groaned as I shot into her which was soon drowned out by a vibrating husky moan from Sarah as she also climaxed. She was still bent over the weight rack as I pulled out, cum dripped down her leg. I collapsed onto her ship deck of a back with a huff, pressing my face into the sweaty bulges of her lats, licking them hungrily and probing her muscled tits with my hands.

“That was incredible” we said in unison, followed by laughter from both of us.

“I think we are going to need triple scoops in the protein shake, Sare” I said as I continued to slide my fit body on her muscle monster physique.

“I may need the whole tub after all that, hun” I laughed a bit and grabbed our clothes and some gym towels to wipe some of the sweat off. She had destroyed her bra taking it off so she slipped the sweatshirt on once we left the heat of the dungeon. I’d love for her to just flaunt her big man-shaming chest around the house but we had huge windows so that would’ve been a non-starter for her.

We enjoyed the rest of our day, ate an extraordinary amount of food and finished packing for our Bora Bora trip. The whole thing was on of the most erotic and satisfying experiences of my life. And it was only the first day of our vacation.

[Gertos]

Another outstanding chapter, and perhaps the best yet! Can't wait for more

[friedoxygen]

I have no idea where you can possibly go with this, but I love this story! I keep wanting to find Female Muscle Growth erotica that’s between consensual, loving adults. That seems to be oddly rare, but you’ve hit that on the head here!

[phil123]

Again a great chapter and I can't wait to read what you have in mind for the next ones.

[Apley44]

What an amazing chapter! Keep up the good work. Your descriptions on Sarah's muscularity is amazing, and you did a good job showing the superiority in her strength. Personally, I am curious about Hannah, the babysitter. She started working out and purchased a gear cycle...eager to see if there is gonna be a new muscle queen in town!

[Del4]

Absolutely love this story. Really enjoying the incredible muscle descriptions and her physical dominance in a romantic and sensual way. Can’t wait for the next instalment, hope it involves them on holiday together.

[Jayder]

As always, thanks for the support. Glad people liked that last section, that part and the story as a whole is def fun to write. Here is the first of at least a couple parts that will be about their vacation, more action to follow.


Muscle in Paradise part 1

The next day we left early for the airport, ready for a long exhausting day of travel that included connecting flights to LA and then Tahiti before taking a small fligt to Bora Bora. The rainbow at the end of that road though was getting to be in one of the most beautiful places in the world with the most beautifully muscled woman in the world.

Walking through crowded places in public with Sarah was always a fun exercise in people watching. It was still cold out here so she wore a sweater and a light jacket, the sizes of which had too many Xs in front of the L for me to even remember. Despite covering her physique, eyes were still glued to the massive woman as we walked through the airport. Each wide-eyed look, slack jawed stare, and surprised—occasionally horrified—gasp made me laugh in amusement. There was a time when she was somewhat embarrassed to receive all of these looks and at that time I was more protective of her, but that was far in the past. She strode through the airport with quiet but overflowing confidence. Someone came up and asked for a picture, but other than that she didn’t acknowledge the gawking. She knew people were watching though, she would rub my back or grip my arm whenever a new person goggled her.

We got to our gate as they were boarding people on the plane. This was the first time Sarah had been on a flight since she’s been quite this massive, and she wasn’t particularly looking forward to squeezing onto a plane for the next 20 hours or so. We were flying first class though so a lot of that would be mitigated; thank god for being rich, right? She perked up when she saw the amount of space she had at the seat.

“Oh, thank you for getting these seats, I was dreading having to squeeze in for this long.”

“Of course, honey. I can’t lie though; I was thinking of booking coach just to see you looking like me sitting in one of Abby’s old chairs that she would sit in for tea party’s”

“You wouldn’t have like the consequences if you did that” she winked, while putting her huge left hand on my shoulder and brushing her right hand dangerously close to my crotch. Even in the large first-class seat, her incredible width dominated the space and her round delts thrusted beyond the seat. As a normal sized human being, though, I fit nice and comfortably and soon fell asleep after we took off, laying my head against my wife’s huge pec. The warm thick muscle provided a perfect pillow.

Our last flight was a small hop from the Tahiti airport to the Bora Bora one, Sarah had to squeeze in for that one a bit, or more accurately I squeezed as much of myself to the side as I could. I didn’t even mind the turbulence as it would press her big muscular shoulders into my body, giving me an excuse to caress them.

By the time we arrived at our final destination, got our luggage and got to the shuttle it was really late so it was hard to take in the full beauty of the area. Still though, the perfect weather and the picturesque ocean view was breathtaking as we took this little ferry to this small island resort. And the resort itself was unreal, a large central building surrounded by dozens and dozens of different souped up beach huts and bungalows.

We wheeled our luggage down the wooden walkway that stretched from the beach and over the water, straw-roofed luxury huts branched off on each side. Lights and conversation emanated from a few of them but it was mostly quiet. The moon shone brightly over the ebbing waves and the warm salty breeze was nice on the lungs as we walked arm-in-arm up to our big bungalow over the water. My lean strong arm was lost in the canyon of meat that formed between her forearm and bunched bicep. The size difference was astonishing, forget her blown up bis, even her forearm dwarfed my upper arm. In my mind I had referred to her arms as 20 inches for a while now but I realized that the last several months must have shot them over that, I wouldn’t have doubted it if her forearms were closer to the 20-inch mark now than her biceps were.

“This is so beautiful, hun” she rumbled as we got to the door of our bungalow, a large multi-room suite. Like a little vacation home built over the water.

“I know, I outdid myself huh?”
“You sure did” she pulled the key out of her purse and unlocked the door. Before she walked in I pressed my hand against her huge thigh, motioning her to wait.

“Hold on” I said, she cocked her head and looked down at me, waiting. “Remember our honeymoon in Cabo”

“Of course, how could I forget” she replied as she rubbed my back with her big hand. “I especially remember someone drinking way too much in the morning and stumbling through afternoon karaoke…” I just smiled and laughed.

“Ha, I’ve blocked that one out of my memory. No, no… the one that came to mind was when we first walked into the room, our first night in a paradise as a married couple.” Now she smiled and chuckled a bit, the memories flooding back.

“Oh yeaaa, you “carried me” into the room” She used air quotes when saying I carried her.

“What do you mean? I did carry you into the room, it was romantic!” she smiled and chuckled, brushing my lips with a soft kiss.

“It was romantic, hon, but I seem to remember you struggling a bit is all.” She wasn’t wrong, I carried her through and to the bed back then but I was winded and tired and it wasn’t super graceful. And that was when she weighed half of what she does now. Which made my next suggestion sound kinda dumb.

“Well I’m gonna do it again” I said holding out my hands, cracking my knuckles, and popping an arm flex with closed fists. “My big, burly, blue collar wife deserves to feel like a damsel sometimes, no?” she chortled at that and looked at me with an amused smirk that turned into a quizzical side eyed look when she realized I wasn’t joking.

“Well, the first class flights made me feel pampered…” she paused and smiled while chuckling softly again. “Ok, lets see it. You think you can do it? You going to take me to the bed?”

“Hmmm, we’ll answer that question when it comes up” I didn’t need to think that far ahead, as I squatted down and stretched my tired muscles. They ached a bit from the full day of travel with little sleep. My mind was stuck in planning mode though. Due to her tremendous size and width I’d have to lean back a bit to get the center of gravity right, so I’d need to brace my core hard. I also would need to hold her tight and at the right angle so that my arms didn’t fatigue, my legs would need to do the work. After shaking out my limbs a bit, I was ready.

“My lady?” I said as she leaned her barn door back down into my arm, I gripped onto the side of her blocky lat, taken aback by how I wasn’t even able to get her whole torso in my grasp. Next was her lower body, in a quick motion I squatted down slightly and wrapped my arm around her protruding hamstrings, each back of her leg was so swollen with meat that I decided it’d be easier to properly hold her lower so I slid my hand behind her knees. Then she popped herself off the ground and with tremendous effort I hoisted her up in my arms, bracing my core hard and stabilizing myself by widening my stance a bit. I gained confidence, she was heavy but it was doable.

“There we go, good start” She cooed, her arm was holding me tightly across my back which helped tremendously. I shuffled to the side to line us up so I could carry her through the open door. As I did she removed her arm from around my shoulder and put the back of her hand against her head, feigning the motion a princess in distress would do, only most fairytales don’t have princesses with biceps that bulged into steel spheres as they bent their arm. Then her deep voice took on a anguished tone.

“Woe is me, won’t you save me from this terrible peril my brave knight?” Normally I would have laughed or said something witty but when she released the tension of her arm on my back it shifted her weight in front of me more and I audibly groaned as she roleplayed. I compensated by leaning back a bit more, widening my stance, and bending my knees a bit.

“Ooops, you good?” She asked as she hung there. I grunted in affirmation, my arms were straining and I could feel a burn start to set in but I wasn’t shaking yet. I managed to turn and shuffle us up to the door, which she was facing away from. That’s when I realized there was gonna be a problem. The door was narrow. Or rather, it wasn’t wide. In all honestly it was probably a normal sized door but when she dropped her hand off my shoulder it caused her tremendous width to be fully unfurled. Her body combined with my leaned back torso meant that we weren’t gonna fit through the door. Not in this position at least.

“Ughhhhh” I managed to let out while thinking of what to do. I didn’t want to quit so I’d have to kinda move her sideways against my body. I certainly couldn’t curl this beast so I’d have to kinda squat down while shifting her weight quickly toward me, with her helping I could do it.

She chuckled amusingly. “Too wide? I thought that might happen. I can help” she said, and started moving her arm and hugging her body closer to mine right as I started my move of shifting her weight. The combined movements shifted her weight too far back on me and I stumbled back and towards the door a bit before slamming my back into the side of the frame. I groaned out in pain as her body sandwiched me between the wood. There was no recovering from that as my knees buckled and I started tumbling down on my back, my wife’s nearly 300-pound body was about to slam me into the ground. I just prayed she didn’t snap me in half and that the deck boards were strong.

Luckily her reflexes were fast enough to rotate her body, thrust a hand out and catch herself in a sorta one-handed pushup position as I hit the floor and rolled onto my stomach. Sighing and chuckling a bit through the pain in my back. My self-pitying amusement though was drowned out by my wife who was now doubled over in a fit of laughter.

“Oooh… hahaha… I’m sorry…haha… are… you okay?” She could barely get through the sentence, breathless from the laughing.

“Ughhh, I’m fine.” I groaned “It’s not funny Sare…” I stayed laying on the ground for a second before the ground started moving away from me as Sarah’s strong arms grasped onto my torso and legs. Before I knew it she tossed me up and flipped me around so that I was safely cradled in her arms against her mighty pecs. She was looking down on me sweetly, a big smirk on her face and a tear of laughter on her cheek.

“Oh come on, it was a little funny hun” I grunted in reply and nuzzled against her chest.

“Emmm all right, it was a bit funny. I’m counting it as a success though”

“I’m impressed with how well you did. Next time my big strong man should just get a suite with double doors” She said playfully as she carried me easily inside, flipped on the lights and gave us a tour of the beautiful Bungalow. In all honesty I may have gotten her through the door but probably wouldn’t have gotten much farther, still though she didn’t have to know that.

“Don’t patronize me, I had it. If you weren’t so freaking wide and heavy it would have been easy.” She laughed again and pulsed a flex through her upper body, squeezing me against her as I felt her chest and arms expand into me. My cock twitched in my shorts like an aftershock from her flex.

“I’m pretty sure you like me just the way I am” her voice was matter-of-fact, she was definitely reveling in the moment.

The inside of the place was even nicer than I had thought, fully equipped with sitting areas, a kitchen, two bedrooms and a sprawling deck that had a perfect view of the water and mountains. With me still in her arms she opened the door to the master bedroom and placed me on the bed.

With her hovering over me on the bed I started kissing her passionately, probing her mouth with my tongue and her steel plated torso with my hands. My hands moved south as I started rubbing her crotch through her shorts. Her clit responded and bulged out even more against the fabric, creating a tiny tent against her cling wrapped shorts. I moved onto the button when I felt her hand engulf my wrist gently as she pulled herself away from me.

“Not tonight honey, I’m tired from the travel and just want to get some sleep so we can hit the ground running in the morning.” She said, I reached up and brushed her hair back behind her ears.

“Ok, that does sound like a good idea.” We kissed gently before she stood up and walked back outside to grab our luggage. I was still laying on the bed staring at the ceiling when she came back in. She grabbed some stuff out of her bag and walked towards the bathroom.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I’ve got some ideas….” My ears perked up at that and I looked over in time to see the door closing, I could barely make out the mirror with her huge back blocking my view and her long hair billowing down it but I got enough of a peek to see her face crunched up into a cocky grimace as she flashed a side bicep flex, her cantaloupe sized peak bursting out against her chest right as they door swung shut.

[Rocky-3]

A delightful update! Don't really have more to say. Keep up the good work!

[fitgirlfanguy]

Great descriptive narration!  Loving the first few installments I've read so far! 

[Del4]

Is this fantastic story continuing? Phenomenal story and descriptions, I check back every day to see if there are any updates.

[Gertos]

Seconding Del4's comment. Completely understand inspiration waxing and waning, but I hope this phenomenal story continues!

[supahdupahsu]

I hope this is not over, for me is honestly the best in this forum