Ron and Esme

asbg777 · July 06, 2024, 05:05:23 AM

Esme and Ron – First Installment: Esme Discovers Something About Herself

Esme had learned that her boyfriend, Ron, was cheating after they had been a couple for about two years. This would have been hurt enough, but she learned that his lover was a woman with whom Esme had once had a professional relationship. Esme was a real estate broker, and Anne had been one of her clients. They had liked one another and got together socially after the sale had gone through. Anne's boyfriend at the start had been a decent-enough guy named Vince, but Anne broke up with him a couple of months after Ron and Esme began hanging out with them.

Anne's account was that Vince spent too much time at his job in entertainment law and wasn't good enough in bed to make up for it. She elbowed Esme and said that she wished she could find a guy with Ron's qualities because he seemed very considerate and caring of Esme, and she sensed that there was a nice sexual chemistry between them. Esme had smiled and said that they did have a very satisfying sex life which had not dimmed after spending two years as a couple.

When she and Ron first became lovers, he had made warm and appreciative comments about her physique. Esme had run track and been a gymnast and took advantage of a gym membership her firm maintained for its employees. She went three times a week, working with a personal trainer on Wednesdays who made sure Esme used free weight and other equipment safely. All of this had enabled Esme to maintain the musculature of her high school and college athletics and she had become stronger following the guidance of the trainer.

But it wasn't until about a month after she and Ron had taken their relationship to that next step that came to understand the effect that her body could wield on his sexual response. She had always appreciated the good shape she was in and her ability to carry heavy groceries and cartons and shove furniture around more easily than some of her girlfriends, but she had never felt exhibitionistic about her body. For example, she didn't spend time in front of a mirror flexing and admiring the creases that would come to her legs when she tightened them. She had never studied the pop that her bicep made from the contour of her arm when she bent her arm with a clenched fist. But one evening, returning to her place from a movie about a month after they began having sex, Ron had with almost joking innocence said he would love to see some of her muscles flexed and squeezed her sleeved arm as he said it. She reflexively cocked her arm and felt his hand grasp the circumference of her bicep and trace its nice round shape with his index finger. "Cool!" Ron said almost playfully, but his voice caught and quaked a little as he said it.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "I didn't think you thought my being muscular for a woman grossed you out!"

"They don't," Ron said quietly. "I mean, it doesn't."

"Because if it does..." Esme pulled her sleeve up and flexed her arm. She didn't look at the swelling in her arm. She kept her eyes on Ron, whose eyes were riveted on her arm. His expression was unsettling. She straightened her arm, pulled down her sleeve. "Then, what the fu –" Her voice betrayed some annoyance, but she kept looking toward Ron, who appeared speechless. "Ohhh," she said aloud.

She drew back her sleeve again and very deliberately and slowly coaxed her bicep to present itself, then slowly lowered it and brought her fist up toward her shoulder once again. Now she herself followed the motion in her upper arm and the progressive stretch of her smooth skin to define the curve of the mound that leapt up when summoned. She glanced back at Ron who smiled thinly and said – still sounding nervous – "Gee, that's great, Ez, really nice. But no big deal. I mean I'm not disturbed. Yeah, it's like I said..."

"Ohmigosh," said Esme, displaying an ambivalent look of recognition. She moved a few steps closer to Ron and brought her taut arm up to his face and clamped the hand of her other arm on his crotch. She could feel his dick, curled hard in his underwear and straining to break as free of its restraint as the muscle that nearly filled the cavity of her sleeve when Esme flexed her arm. "Oh, Ron, you adore my body but it's muscles, my muscles really turn you on." She said it almost as if it were a question, not a statement. She flexed the arm again but only briefly and with much less commitment. With the hand of her other arm, she grasped Ron's crotch and could feel a surging urgency to the erection trapped in his underwear.

Esme was taken aback. She felt a little objectified, but then, don't people who are lovers try to gratify one another? Only she wasn't sure how much Ron's interest in watching and feeling her muscles was about her or just about watching muscles. Would any girl's muscles do? But, in that moment, she was aware that she was turned on by his being so aroused. Aroused by her! He pulled her close, running his hands along her arms, shoulder and back while kissing her ever so deeply. She tightened some of her muscles hoping it would make the contours of her body please him. She wasn't sure exactly what to do. He did make an appreciative noise. She kissed him back hard, wondering whether Ron experienced her lips and mouth as another set of her muscles in action.

When Ron pulled his mouth away from hers, she knew she was wet. Downright slick. It was amazing to be so hungrily desired. Esme took his hand and led him towards her bedroom. "You must tell me what you want me to do," she said. "Or else," she added, looking into his eyes and, for the first time in her life, fusing together the idea of her surging horniness with the sinewy knit of her muscular frame, "Or else I will beat you up."