Trophy Wife

[Amnoartist]

Chapter 6

Tiffany's mother Jackie entered the living room with a tea tray in hand, shaky with nerves. Placing it on the small table between both couches. She happened to glance at Susan and gulped. Tiffany had often spoken to her mother about Susan, but negated to trust in the comments she made about her size. However, now she was inclined to believe every one of them. Despite not possessing such a mentality, Susan was intimidating to Jackie.

"So...to what do I owe the pleasure, Missus, uh..."

"Jones. But you can call me Susan."

"Call me Jackie."

Susan took one of the tea mugs and grabbed the packet of ginger biscuits, hoarding them for herself. God, did that last workout make her hungry. She'd eat a horse if she could. "I'm here to talk about Tiffany."

"She's coming along great, isn't she?" Jackie's words came with a sense of cheer, much to Susan's surprise. She took the opposing mug and chocolate eclairs. "Put on four pounds of weight this past week, she told me. She said she signed on to compete in the regionals, is that true?"

This was news to Susan, of course. To the best of her knowledge, the regionals were only a few weeks away, and Tiffany was nowhere near ready mentally to take them on. But Susan could also see how thrilled Jackie was at the prospect of her daughter competing, so she conceded. "Yes. Yes, we're working on making some final touches to her regimen to maximize her output."

"That's great!"

"But that's not why I'm here." Susan really didn't want to dampen Jackie's mood, seeing her smile slip and fall flat into a deadpan stare, but the fact was there was something more important that needed discussing. "I'm here to talk about her evident drug use."

Jackie's expression contorted itself into something Susan didn't quite expect. Her response reflected it, in turn. "Oh, I thought you were going to tell me she'd been fooling around with boys. No, I know all about the steroids she's been taking."

"You...you do?"

"Oh yes. I'm open-minded about most things, really. Of course, we had a discussion about it first as a family, but we all agreed, so long as it's done so in moderation, Tiffany could use them."

"But they're not being used in moderation, that's the point." Susan opted to let Jackie's initial comment slide, but couldn't ignore the bigger problem at hand. "You haven't noticed anything different about her lately? A deeper voice? Acne outbreak?"

Jackie was confused. Truthfully, she was at least aware of Tiffany's increasingly deep voice, but reckon it was due to a sore throat and so thought nothing of it. She also thought the acne outbreak was nothing but puberty playing its usual cruel game. Even so, Jackie's confusion told Susan all she needed to hear.

"Could you bring her in here, please?"

"She's in the middle of her workout—"

Susan shot Jackie a glare that cut so deep into the woman that she shivered. Jackie complied, opening the basement door, behind which deep grunts were heard.

"Tiff, can you come up here for a sec?"

Tiffany's grunt as she re-racked the bench-press bar was enough of a tell for Susan to know things had gotten a little bit out of hand. Though not visible in her expression, concern filled the woman as the teen came up from the basement, the stairs creaking and groaning under her mushroomed weight. When Tiffany's face finally came into the light, Susan sighed. Her entire right cheek had developed an outbreak of acne, some spots larger than others.

Susan shot a damning glance at Jackie, but she didn't notice, smiling at her daughter.

"Hey Missus Jones." Tiffany had inadvertently confirmed Susan's fears — her voice was deeper. Not only that, but more so than Susan's at the same age when she started using. It stood to reason, then, that Tiffany had at some point decided to blatantly disregard the safety of dosages and instead injected as much as what pleased her.

"Can you turn your back to me for a second, sweetie?" Susan hoped the other fear she had wouldn't be confirmed, watching Tiffany turn, but she couldn't resist pulling into a double bicep pose, pulling tightly at her top's fabric. Any tighter and the thing would bust.

"My back's huge, isn't it? Wouldn't be surprised if it ends up bigger than yours before the week's out, Missus Jones."

Susan wasn't going to to deny Tiffany being right. The teen had only been under the woman's wing for the better half of a week and the width of her back was already catching up. The same could be said for her thighs, close to pressing against the door frame.

"That's the back of a future champion," Jackie casually let out.

Susan lifted the rear of Tiffany's airtight gym top to get a closer look at her skin. She then regretted that decision, seeing her other fear being realized. Tiffany's back was swarmed with acne from the nape of her neck down to her waistline. Susan's concern for Tiffany heightened.

"Tiffany, what have you been using?" The fact the teen was quite obviously perversely abusing aside, Susan just had to know what she was using. Whatever it was, it wasn't anything like Susan had done in the past.

"I've been giving her a cocktail of all the steroids she has," Jackie blurted out.

"What?" Susan wasn't going to let Jackie's respondent confused expression slide this time. It had to be an act anyway. "Jackie, it's bad enough Tiffany's abusing at her age in general. She doesn't need a cocktail of everything too!"

"But you said you drank them too," Tiffany shot back, making a point.

"On rare occasions. Tiffany, it looks like you're having one with every fucking meal. I told you: moderation." Susan's heart was broken. This all reminded her too much of herself, of her own past transgressions and addiction. She turned to Jackie with a deathly glare. "This is abuse."

Jackie scoffed. "How dare you accuse me of abusing my own child. Who do you think you are, acting all high-and-mighty? You're not much better, from what Tiffany's been telling me."

It wasn't the first time Susan heard that comment, and yet it stung just as sharply as it did the first, like a knife pierced her heart. Even so, she wasn't going to let the same old snide remark demoralize her. "What about the father? He in on it too?"

"There is no father. Not really. I had a drunken fling some years back and he knocked me up." It was obvious recalling this particular moment in Jackie's past hurt her. "Never once saw Tiffany in his life. He was more than happy to pay the child support though."

"Sounds like a deadbeat," Susan retorted sharply. It was only after he words rolled from her tongue that she realized the severity of them. She prepared herself for the expected slap from Jackie. But it didn't come, much to the woman's surprise.

"On that we both agree," Jackie said.

An awkward silence fell, which Tiffany eventually decided to break with a perfunctory cough, getting both women's attention. "You both finished?"

Susan watched a solitary vein thick as her finger snake up the length of the teen's back, the floorboards creaking as Tiffany turned to face the women. Susan couldn't help but sigh slightly when she finally noticed Tiffany's jaw was somewhat squarish in shape, but she didn't say anything.

"Taking the cocktail that much was my idea. I didn't know I had to use that in moderation too."

Susan scoffed. "It's common sense, Tiffany. If you're supposed to use the steroids in general with moderation, what made you think the cocktail would be any different?"

"Point taken," Tiffany said with guilt.

Susan turned to Jackie. "Sorry about that. It's just...this reminds me too much of my own past. Don't want Tiffany to repeat my own mistakes."

Jackie nodded.

"With that in mind, if I ever find out Tiffany's abusing again, we're finished.

"What?" Tiffany was distraught.

"That's right. From here on out we're doing it naturally." Susan knew Tiffany would protest ot just now, but afterwards. It didn't matter though. Susan's word was law.

"But the regionals—"

"Ah yes. You signed up for those behind my back, didn't you?" Susan didn't have to look at her to know Jackie was surprised. "Don't worry, I'll let you compete. In the juniors."

"What? That's not fair! Mum—"

"Your mother isn't your trainer. I am. Your mother doesn't know anything about the sport. I do. Just because you're catching up with me in terms of size doesn't mean you know any better. I do."

"Mum—"

"Susan's right, sweetie."

Tiffany stormed back down into the basement, the floorboards and stairs creaking under the teen's weight.

"She'll come around," Susan said. "She'll have to, knowing there'll be nobody else she can turn to."

The two women trailed off to the front door, where a realization struck Susan. A realization that pained her: in the face of the fact she was trying to mend fences with her own teenage daughters, Susan cared more for Tiffany than them.

***

Trent panicked. He wasn't sure how his mother would react to the news Taylor was infertile. Angela was so set on wanting a grandchild from them that only God knew what to expect now. Would she throw a fit of rage? Condemn Taylor? The possibilities were endless and that was why Trent was so agitated.

He entered his mother's house. It was surprisingly quiet. Usually, the TV blared over most things at ten in the morning, but all that was heard was silence. The eerie kind. It troubled Trent, urging him through the door and into the hallway.

"Mum?"

"In here, sweetie," Angela called from the living room, her back turned to Trent, doing yoga in front of the TV, which itself was off, complete with yoga pants and an open-sleeve gym top. Seeing his mother do yoga intrigued Trent. She never was one for it before, otherwise going on lengthy walks if the weather was nice enough. So this was different. Curious even. "Pass me my shake, will you?"

Trent complied, grabbing the protein shake from the coffee table near the couch. Next to the protein shake were two family-size bars of dark chocolate. Angela wasn't one for eating chocolate either. "Mum, what's going on?" Trent asked, watching her bend her body into the Janu Sirsasana pose.

"How are things with you and Taylor?" Judging by her tone, it sounded as if Angela was deflecting Trent's question with her own, which he was obviously in no rush to answer. Instead, Trent watched his mother in silence, twisting and contorting her lithe frame into another pose. "Did you come to tell me she's pregnant?"

Trent only offered silence in response. The kind of silence that ultimately betrayed him. Even if he just stuttered, it wouldn't have been so bad as it turned out to be. Angela relaxed, craning her neck to her left shoulder, flashing a concerned glance.

Trent knew he'd dug himself into a hole. There was no point in lying now. His own body and mind betrayed him to his mother. "Taylor's infertile."

Angela's response wasn't quite what Trent expected. She was still angry, as evidenced by the contorted visage she flashed upon hearing the news, but then relaxed, taking a deep breath before drinking her shake. "I knew she couldn't live up to the task. Oh well."

"Wait, you're not angry?" Trent honestly expected his mother to, as aforementioned, throw a fit over him breaking the unfortunate news regarding Taylor. But she seemed oddly content with it.

"Well, I'm upset about it, but there's very little point in being angry now." Angela finished her protein shake and placed the carton to her side. She stretched her legs out as if readying to stand. "Can you pass me the chocolate?"

Trent, of course, complied, but before handing the chocolate over, he realized, looking at it intently. "Wait, I remember. Dad used to say you only ate dark chocolate when you were—"

Now standing, Angela slowly turned to face Trent, the gym top stretched outwards slightly, her hands cupping her small paunch protectively.

"—Pregnant," Trent finished, seeing his mother's smile grow as he concluded his line of thought.

"Trent, sweetie. We're having twins."

"How..." Trent's mind was predictably reeling from the news. How was his mother pregnant? How long had she been hiding the fact? How— He sighed, connecting the dots as his mother thumbed her navel. "You took the fertility pills too, didn't you? You said you were on the pill."

"I am. Just not the one you thought." Angela took Trent's hand, guiding it to her paunch. She could see her son's concern and surmised it would fade away when he felt his child kicked his palm, which indeed did happen. "You made this. Aren't you proud?"

Trent didn't know what to think. He pulled his hand away, looked at his mother, who looked back at him.

"The plan never was for you to give me a grandchild through Taylor."

"It was for you to have one with me," Trent realized.

"Yes. Taylor was just the means to an end, darling. I used her to get to you." Angela moved in on Trent, pressing her belly against his muscled torso, running her hand over his bulging shaft. "Before that though, I had to get your father out the way."

Trent's brow furrowed with confusion, not sure what his mother meant by that. He looked into her eyes, as if trying to look deep into her mind and uncover the way it worked, uncover what she meant. When the slight smirk formed across her lips, the truth dawned on him, hitting him like a brick.

"He didn't die of a heart attack. You killed him! Why?"

"I realized he wasn't as faithful as I thought, cheating on me with a whore and getting her pregnant. Outside of that, he was obsessed with turning you into the perfect bodybuilder. At the time when I wanted another child, his dick stopped working because of all the steroids he'd taken." Angela unbuckled Trent's belt and whipped out his cock to stroke it as she continued, looking up to stare lovingly into his eyes. "I didn't find out about the bastard child until last year when he got drunk one night. So I spiked his protein shake and his heart gave out. "

Trent moaned as his mother picked up the pace of her stroking. He definitely didn't expect to get hard over listening to his mother explain how she killed his father.

"But you're faithful, aren't you? You wouldn't have given me your baby otherwise. The pills do their job well enough, but they won't work without your natural contribution, which you generously provided several times." Angela smirked at Trent's face contorting into something that suggested struggle, Any second now he would lose control and spurt his load. Any second now. "Your father shouldn't roll around in his grave too much. His legacy will still continue. It'll just be growing in me."

Angela's latest comments made it pretty clear her intention to have a child by Trent was partially done out of spite against her husband's lack of care for her and his obsession with ensuring Trent became the perfect bodybuilder.

"Your father wanted to turn you into the perfect bodybuilder. I'll honor that much about him at least, just to turn you into something greater - the perfect man: loyal, strong, ever erect, caring towards both their woman and children."

Trent gave in, spurting cum over his mother's palm and down her wrist in a slight explosion of seminal fluid. He groaned, she laughed girlishly, licking the streak of cum off her palm.

"Don't want all of this to go to waste, do we?" Angela gripped her son's shaft, somehow stoppering his stream. He hadn't lost any of his rigidity despite cumming. He must've liked what his mother had to say, listening to her purr in his ear. "So...bedroom. Now."

***

Time had slipped into a blur. By the time Trent had finally pulled out of his mother's cum-drenched pussy, looking up at the wall-mounted clock to see it had struck five, half the day had been eaten up by their vigorous and immoral relations. They'd been at it for seven straight hours!

Trent pulled away from the bed, much to Angela's disappointment. She tried teasing him back into bed, twisting her nipple.

"Sorry, I've really gotta get to work. I'll pop round later tonight for some more." Trent had resigned to his mother's love for him. As such, there was now no other woman he'd rather be with until the end of his days.

"But I want round twelve now, darling. You're the owner of the place, so you can go anytime." Angela was disappointed, craving more of her bull son's meat until either one of them passed out — or both. But she also understood. "Fine. But when you get back, we're playing by my rules." Angela pointed to the strap-on casually positioned on the window sill.

Trent chuckled. He left the bedroom and headed towards the bathroom to have a quick shower before leaving for his shift at the gym. But before he could turn the valve, the front door bell sounded. A large shadow cast over the glass pane. There was only person Trent knew with a bod that large.

"Shit. Missus Jones is here." Trent gestured to his mother, hearing her scramble around the room aimlessly trying to find her clothes. Trent tried to make sense of Susan's sudden appearance, trying to find his own clothes in the process, but couldn't find them. "Wat the hell's she doing here?"

When the bell sounded again, this time with more urgency, Trent resigned to take the matter on anyway, approaching the door naked, his cum-soaked cock bobbing between his steps. He made sure to open the door only slightly so only his head was shown. In any case, Susan was surprised.

"Oh, Trent. I never expected to see you here. Thought you'd be with Taylor. Is your mother in? I haven't had a chance to properly extend my condolences since you told me your father died."

Trent had to think fast, his head spinning. "Sh's not feeling very well at the moment. I popped by to make sure everything was in order for the rest of her evening before I set off for work." That ought to be an excuse believable enough, he thought.

Angela played along. Her bare back pressed against the wall, she feigned a throaty cough loud enough to scrunch Susan's face up.

"Sounds pretty bad," Susan said.

An awkward silence suddenly fell between her and Trent, he offering a smile to the woman.

"Actually, now that I know you're here, I wanted to talk to you about Tiffany."

"Yeah?" Trent was starting to lose interest, not to mention patience. He tapped his foot off the floor in a rhythm, hoping it had some kind of supernatural power that would hurry things along. His mind faded out a bit, thinking about other things, in particular, the sex he just had with his mother. He did pick up some things Susan said about Tiffany having acne, cocktailing steroids on an unusually regular basis and signing up for the regionals behind Susan's back.

"It's all sorted out now, though. Just thought you should know."

Trent didn't offer much in the way of a response. Just nodded and smiled. Hopefully that would've been enough.

But Susan wasn't so quick to part ways. She knew something was amiss. Trent wasn't usually this quiet. Not even as the kid she knew him to be all those years back. "Everything okay? You seem kind of out of it today."

"Oh yeah. Just concerned for Mum, you know?"

Susan nodded, understanding Trent's position. It must've been hard on him when his father died. They had such a connection. Susan wouldn't dare think of what would happen to Trent if he lost both his parents two years apart, if what ailed his mother was serious enough. "Well you know where I live, if you need any help."

"Yep."

Susan finally decided to part, heading down the street in the direction of the local supermarket. She issued Trent a distant wave, which he reciprocated quickly before closing the door behind him. When he turned back to the hallway, Angela was stood at the bedroom's threshold in all her nakedness, cupping a hand over her pregnancy with a soft smile. Looking at his mother's silent beauty was enough for Trent's cock to lurch and start stiffening up.

He locked the door.

Round twelve it was, then.

[Amnoartist]

⚡ Support Saradas

Keep the archive alive with Bitcoin

1QDxcxUx8pnsZvauyVxTqaJrWkeNhQrPdK

Donate →

[Amnoartist]

Chapter 7

"That's it, keep your legs straight. Elbows tucked in. There we go!" The clock had just struck two, bringing Tiffany's training with Susan that day to its second hour, with another two yet to go. The teen didn't usually sweat so much as she was, but no doubt this was due to her cutting the roids from her system and finally feeling the burn from her workouts. Susan was behind, observing Tiffany's form as she brought the barbell up for her twentieth curl. Five sets down, another three to go, starting to falter. "You're doing well, Tiff. Don't stop now, you can do it. Push harder!"

As if Susan's words of encouragement themselves fueled her, Tiffany's will renewed itself, allowing her to push out another few reps. Tiffany was of the mind to think Susan was pushing her harder than usual. It wasn't completely out of the question, considering Tiffany no longer had the benefit of steroids to back her up and give that extra edge. "I-I can't!" she said with struggle, practically gasping for air.

"You can! You just think you can't!"

Susan's choice of words weren't as encouraging as previous. Tiffany's sweaty hand trembled as it started to lose its grip on the barbell. The weights were then swiftly dropped, the teen quickly following behind as her knees dug into the mat. She rubbed her hands gently, repulsed by the visible calluses forming on her palms.

"Ewww!"

Susan chuckled. "I'd get used to seeing them if I were you. You didn't get them until now because you've never worked this hard." She offered Tiffany a towel to wipe down her arms glistening with sweat. Her protein shake was given next, a cream-colored goop mix. Susan knew Tiffany hated working this hard, but it was through that labour achievements and successes were marked. "And you've never worked this hard because of the stuff you'd been taking."

Tiffany was catching her breath. She caught most of what Susan was saying, her deep exhales blanking words out here and there. Her biceps had become swollen from blood being pumped to them, a network of veins popping to the surface of her skin. "I just don't get it though," she responded between breaths.

"Huh?"

"Why work me this hard?" Tiffany had her suspicions, but didn't want to make them known in case she ended up being wrong. Something she wasn't keen on.

Susan, though, smirked. "I thought a little differently about something."

Tiffany's brow was raised in curiosity.

"Well, look at you!" Susan guided Tiffany over to the posing mirror. "You're far too big to be considered an amateur. And I see no point in you losing all that hard work just to fit into a category."

"So..." The teen was unable to resist presenting herself in an abs and thighs pose, smiling as the definition in her abs popped out as though she'd wholly swallowed six bricks and her thighs had a distinctive teardrop.

Susan rolled her eyes. She knew Tiffany was smart enough to know what she was getting at. The teen may have been blonde, but Susan never knew her to have blonde 'moments.' "I changed my mind about letting you compete. You won't be going for the amateurs. I'm putting you forward for something different."

Tiffany's response was, of course, predictable, yet still had a sense of surprise to it. The squeal of excitement was expected, but Susan never anticipated being the casualty of a bear hug. She felt the oxygen escape from her lungs as Tiffany squeezed as she cheered and thanked the older woman endlessly. Tiffany was unaware of her strength, Susan's ribs being pressed inwards.

"Okay, Tiff...you can let me go now."

Susan was released from Tiffany's deadly squeeze, brushing herself down and catching her breath. She made a mental note to herself: don't be so close to Tiffany next time you break good news.

"So, why did you say I had to take the amateurs if I'm not?"

"I was angry at you for signing up for the regionals behind my back. You should've talked to me about it first. But you won't be doing those either."

"So if I'm not taking part in the regionals, what contest am I doing?"

Susan smiled knowingly.

***

"Miss Mass? Susan, are you serious?" Robert found it hard to believe his wife would let Tiffany compete in a contest as grueling as Miss Mass, especially considering the outcome last time. Robert remembered spending days at Susan's bedside at the hospital. The trophy was nearly in the bag, too, only for her to faint at the last minute from dehydration. "Tiffany's younger than you when you competed in it. And you lost!"

Susan stood at the kitchen island chopping and cutting ingredients to add to their dinner for the evening. She understood Robert's concern but was adamant in her decision, was confident Tiffany could actually pull it off. "She's also bigger."

Robert scoffed, turning away. He was no pro when it came to bodybuilding, but was at least knowledgeable enough to understand the dangers. He glanced at his wife's diamond-hard calves, bigger than his own, a gentle layer of vascularity cresting at the edges curving around to swoop and meet her quads. "Size isn't everything, Susan. Tiffany's just a teenager. She doesn't have the same mental fortitude as you. Girls her age should be focusing on their education, not the size of their biceps."

"There's no reason why she can't do both." Susan turned to Robert, placing her hand over his, resulting in the husband and wife sharing a rare of moment of care between them. Susan knew Robert's comment about size was, indeed, true, but she also knew there was nothing to worry about. "Darling, It's been years since I tanked the Miss Mass. I've learned so much since then. We can only go upwards from here," she said, returning to the chopping.

Robert wasn't entirely convinced, but was starting to come around. He still had his doubts, questions that needed answering, but knew they weren't going to sway Susan's judgment either way. "Obviously I don't know as much about bodybuilding as you, but if you want Tiffany to truly win this, doesn't that mean you're gonna have to forgo your rule about her using steroids?"

Susan sighed, putting the knife down. As much as she hated to admit it, Robert was right. There was only so much growing a body could do naturally, but the Miss Mass contest was asking for a lot of it. When push would inevitably turn to shove, Susan would have to put Tiffany on steroid cycles on a regular basis. Susan wanted Tiffany to win, but she also loved her like a mother would her daughter. "I'll keep her on the softer stuff."

"I think that's best," Robert said with a nod. He looked at the clock on the wall, the time nearing seven. The family didn't usually have dinner so late in the day, but preparations had to be made for Tiffany's arrival, having been extended an invitation by Susan. "She should be here soon."

"I just hope the girls don't make things awkward for her," Susan said with concern. She knew Billie and Clara already had opinions about their mother being an obsessive bodybuilder and weren't best pleased when they found out she took Tiffany on as a protégé. It just meant she'd spend more time with someone else's kid than her own.

"It'll be fine so long as you don't focus on Tiffany," Robert said matter-of-factly.

Susan nodded as the doorbell rang.

***

It was Billie who opened the door to Tiffany, her eyes widening in disbelief as she laid eyes on the comparatively shorter yet wider teenager dressed in a green parka with slim-fit jeans that helped accentuate her bulging calves and even larger thighs. Billie didn't say anything for the first few moments, her mind racing in its attempt to fully register Tiffany, who eventually broke the silence, offering a handshake in turn.

"Hi there, you must be Billie. I'm Tiffany, your mother's uh, I guess you could say client." Tiffany's demeanor was chirpier than usual, likely trying to help paint a pretty picture of herself for Susan's sake. Billie took Tiffany's hand in silence, but the teen's grip took her by surprise — it felt like she'd just put her hand in a vice!

"Fuck!" Billie wasn't one to offer expletives often, pulling her hand away to rub it, but this particularly occasion certainly called for it.

"Oops, sorry. Still haven't gotten to grips with my strength yet," Tiffany giggled.

Billie gestured Tiffany into the house, quietly muttering to herself as the pain still lingered on her knuckles, though beginning to fade, albeit not at a favorable pace. Would she have to put some ice on it, she thought, watching Tiffany remove her jacket and hang it up next to the family's.

"Jesus."

"What?" Tiffany queried, confused. She caught Billie staring at her arms aired from he top, clearly taken aback by their size, considerably larger than they ought to be for someone the teen's age. In point of fact, they were on par with a professional bodybuilder's. "Oh, these?" Tiffany smiled, bringing her arm up into a flex, the peak rising higher than it had earlier that day. "These guns are sixteen-inchers. But you should see them when they're primed."

Tiffany sniffed, picking up a scent moving powerfully through the house, bringing a knowing smile to her face. "Oh, chicken? Sweet! Time to get some protein! I'm so hungry I could a horse."

"I bet," Billie muttered to herself softly, sizing Tiffany up from calf to neck.

***

It was Clara's turn to be surprised by Tiffany, though more so in regards to her voracious appetite as she gorged on the generous helpings of food laid out on the kitchen table. There was so much, describing the offerings as a 'feast' wouldn't be that far off from the truth, and Tiffany had her hands in all f it by some point. All the same, Clara watched the ballooned blonde opposite her gnaw on two chicken drumsticks at once while eying a third positioned neatly within arm's reach.

Robert shared in his daughters' disbelief, watching Tiffany down a fresh glass of water as though she hadn't drank in days, the liquid running down the front of her neck as she guzzled greedily. Robert leaned towards Susan, whispering into her ear. "I know you said she's a growing girl and is liable to eat a lot, but...this is a lot."

Susan didn't want to admit it, but even she was struggling to understand how Tiffany could pack away so much food into her system. Sure, she was a teenager and was prone to eating a lot of food anyway because of that, but it was just— "I know," she responded softly, "even I'm struggling to eat what I have here. She's just hoovering it up like there's no tomorrow."

"Tell me you've got spare meals in the fridge. I don't think she'll be stopping anytime soon."

Susan chuckled nervously, refraining from responding knowing Robert wouldn't like the answer.

It was Billie who decided to break the awkward silence between the two sisters and Tiffany, having refrained from saying almost anything since they hit the table. "So, uh...how long have you been working out for, Tiffany?"

"About six months," was the gorging teen's casual response between bites, grabbing that third drumstick she eyed earlier, alongside two corncobs and refilled the glass for the fourth time. "I was originally a cheerleader, but decided to quit when I wanted to try something a bit more daring, you know?"

Billie offered her mother a very specific glance. Six months. Tiffany had been working out, practically bodybuilding for six months and she was already that big? Billie wasn't ignorant of the possibility — no, the fact — her mother refrained from bringing up: Tiffany was obviously on something, or at least had been. There was no way she was that big in such a short time without some kind of 'help.'

"Well, it's definitely paying off at least," Clara said, finally breaking her silence. It seemed she didn't catch onto the harsh reality concerning Tiffany's growth as quick as her sister, believing the teen's progress to be all natural.

"Thanks! Obviously I've only been your mother's client for a few weeks, but she's helped me a lot, not just physically, but mentally too."

Susan smiled, taking pleasure in the recognition Tiffany expressed towards her. Robert shared in the moment, taking his wife's hand and squeezing it lovingly.

"That said, I've definitely grown a bit because of her help." Of course Tiffany couldn't resist flexing to get her point across, raising her arm up and pulling back her sleeve to reveal the sixteen-inch arm hiding underneath, smiling proudly as its peak rose sharply, a cute vein cresting it. "Reckon I'd be lagging behind a bit if it wasn't for her."

"Fucking hell, that's huge," Clara proclaimed, clearly mesmerized.

Tiffany giggled, relishing in the attention.

"Okay girls, that's enough. We're here to eat," Susan commented. "There's plenty of time for that sort of stuff later."

Everyone returned to eating. It was Tiffany's turn to offer questions, in particular, the eldest daughter of the host. "You know, I'm actually quite surprised, Billie, that you haven't followed in your mother's footsteps."

"Huh?"

"Bodybuilding, I mean. I thought what your mother spends most of her time doing would've rubbed off on you. Statistically speaking, the descendants of bodybuilders continue the family's tradition of performing in the sport more often than not. I read about it in an article recently."

Billie offered Tiffany a look that wasn't particularly inviting, though the teen herself didn't catch it, going back to her meal after her casual comment. "What do you mean, that I should be a bodybuilder just because my mother's one?"

It was clear Tiffany didn't filter out whether her words would do more harm than good. She didn't know the circumstances regarding Billie's relationship with her mother.

"Billie, I'm sure Tiffany didn't mean it like that," Susan said, hopeful.

"Yeah? Well, what did she mean by that? Curious choice of words, wouldn't you say?" Billie was livid. Being insulted by a teenager like that wasn't something she was going to let slip. But Tiffany just didn't have any inkling of the truth. "Just so you know, Tiffany, you got it all wrong. Nothing my mother did rubbed off on me, or Clara, because she never gave a shit about us."

"Billie!" Susan called out.

But Billie ignored her. "Didn't spend a second of her time around us sometimes, even missed birthdays, Christmases, fucking funerals because she was too busy in the gym getting her swole on, making sure she made progress."

Tiffany was deadpan. She definitely didn't expect to invoke anger from Billie, even if she did already know about Susan's past transgressions in spending little to no time with her family.

"She missed Clara's, first day at primary and secondary school, not to mention her eighteen birthday," Billie went on.

Clara looked away from her rambling sibling, overcome with embarrassment and guilty. The kind born from not wanting to be reminded of such memories; the kind born from not wanting to be reminded of her mother's ignorance and obsession.

"So to answer your question on why I haven't followed in my mother's footsteps." Billie made it a point in looking directly at her mother as the response was issued, knowing it would cut deep into her heart. "Why the fuck would I want to? Now if you'll excuse me. I've suddenly lost my appetite."

Billie paced through the kitchen, caring not for how much noise the door made as she slammed it behind her.

Silence.

***

After dinner, everyone had moved to the living room, the TV mutedly sounding in the background. Each member of the Jones family sat, save for Clara, who had been ushered up by Tiffany to stand in the middle of the floor so they could compare muscles. Clara begrudgingly complied out of kindness towards her guest, pulling her leg out to the side just as her mother had done thousands of times over the years. Like her sister, Clara obviously had no interest in bodybuilding, but clearly some things rubbed off on her. Billie just watched, sulking.

"Oh my god, your legs are like toothpicks. Mine are so much bigger." Tiffany jabbed with humor. She pulled her leg out to compare with Clara's, clearly already double in size without even flexing, and when she did, the fabric of her jeans busted to reveal the teardrop pillar-thick meaty thigh once hidden underneath. Tiffany couldn't refrain from giggling. "I love it when that happens," she added, running a hand over her thigh.

Robert caught Susan's curious expression that followed Tiffany's flex. He wasn't quite sure what it was. Surprise, maybe? Would he go so far as to think it might even be jealousy? "What is it?" he queried softly in confidence.

"Oh nothing, it's just..."Susan swallowed, clearly struggling to accept the fact that had laid itself bare before her. "Tiffany's quads are bigger than mine were at that age. Even I didn't have a teardrop so developed back then. Took me years to get that, only for her to get in a few months."

Robert looked, now sharing his wife's disbelief.

Tiffany brought her left leg up, the fabric of her jeans busting slightly and forming a slit so her calf could be presented. A vein crested the face of the bulging muscle. The teen, predictably, giggled girlishly. "You got any measuring tape around? I'm pretty sure these are bigger than yesterday's measurements."

Clara complied, though this time out of genuine curiosity. Seeing Tiffany's calf at first glance, a specific thought formed in the back of the Clara's mind, glancing at her mother. But she withheld on making that thought public, handing the tape to Tiffany.

"Oh no, you do it," she suggested.

"I don't know how to," Clara shot back.

Susan sighed. Obviously the task fell back on her, taking the tape from Tiffany. The mother's mind was still reeling from the fact the teen's thighs were so large, wrapping the tape around her calf, mutedly eyeballing its beefy details. She hesitated, taking a moment to process the measurement mentally before making it public.

"Well?" Tiffany queried, chirpy.

Twenty inches."

There was a brief moment of curious silence. Robert shared an knowing look with Susan before he spoke. "Wait. Doesn't that make—"

"—Oh my god, they're bigger than yours, Susan!" Tiffany chirped.

In spite of maintaining her stropping, even Billie was surprised by this stark revelation, her brow raised in curiosity. Though not much else was issued beyond that, still silent. Still seething over the teen's comment.

Susan, though, was obviously shocked by the measurement. It had only taken Tiffany a few months to outgrow her in calf size, compared to the years it took Susan. Sure, Tiffany had a bit of 'help' on the side, but so did Susan, yet the teen's calves were larger. The only plausible explanation for Tiffany's growth rate Susan could think of was that her genes were passed down from her father...whomever he was.

Susan put the tape back, the revelation gnawing on her mind. Upon closing the drawer, she spotted Tiffany's mother Jackie pull up in her Ford Focus. Time for Tiffany to head home, she supposed. Though it was clear the teen wasn't best pleased by her mother's sudden appearance. Not to mention it was obvious Tiffany was enjoying the company she had with Susan, her trainer.

"Shit. I didn't think she'd be here so soon."

A light bulb flashed on it Susan's mind as an idea formed. "Run out to your mother. See what she says about you staying the night. I'm sure the girls have some old PJs you can slip into."

Billie and Clara looked at one with shared jealousy as Tiffany rushed out. They never got to do anything like sleepovers as kids. It wasn't long before Billie stormed off upstairs, slamming her bedroom door.

When Tiffany returned, the smile she expressed indicated she had been given the go-ahead by her mother, which Susan returned with a friendly wave out the window. Susan was so fixated on Tiffany being given permission that she hadn't noticed Robert go upstairs to confide with and comfort Billie.

Clara, though, was different. She may not have liked the fact her mother missed out on so many occasions when growing up, but had grown to accept that as she matured.

"Clara, would you take Tiffany up to your room, help dish out some of your old PJs and clothes for tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Clara complied, but a part of her felt sorrowful towards her elder sibling who expressed, in her own way, a sense of rebellion against her mother's decision to care more for someone else's daughter than her own.

[Amnoartist]

Completely forgot to update this when originally intended. Sorry for the wait, folks.

[mattrius]

Glad to see you're still going! Great sorry!

[jhunter]

Glad to have more! Thanks, and keep it up.

[sw1ngy]

Engaging story!

[jstans]

A very engaging story, AA. You always do very well at setting the scene around the muscular protagonists (and antagonists, foils, etc.)

[Amnoartist]

Chapter 8

It was the start of a new day. The sun had shone brightly through the windows as early as six, rousing Billie from her slumber. She would usually manage to sleep through until at least nine, but the days were brighter earlier in the summer. But Billie's mother Susan was hardwired differently, somehow always managing to sleep through the light and warmth of the mornings, snuggled up with and spooning Robert.

The floorboards creaked as Billie moved through the hallway, making sure not to wake Clara or Tiffany. Especially Tiffany. Billie's stomach craved French toast and golden syrup and she knew Tiffany would've kept all the bread to herself and devoured it for a 'light' breakfast if already up. Luckily though, the odds were apparently in Billie's favour.

Down the stairs Billie went, pacing quickly through the kitchen, her mind already playing tricks on her with the smell of French toast wafting through the air, a smile forming across her face as she met the kitchen's threshold. But this smile wasn't to last.

Billie was so sure her sister Clara was still in bed, her door closed tightly, not a peep coming from beyond it. But there she stood at the kitchen island, her arms folded.

"Urgh, what are you doing up so early? I was hoping to beat you to some French toast," Billie commented.

"She got up first." Clara watched Tiffany sat on the stool chomp greedily on a quadruple-layered bacon sandwich. After what Clara just witnessed, they'd be lucky if anyone could throw stuff together to make even an improvised breakfast. "Didn't know where the bacon was, so woke me up to help her find it. She's gone through the entire packet by herself."

Billie's eyes widened in disbelief, though hoped deep down she could still make that French toast she craved. "There's bread there though, right?"

Clara scoffed. "Where do you think she got the bread for the sandwich from? There's none left."

"You're joking. Now what am I supposed to have?"

Clara couldn't stop herself from chuckling softly at her sibling. "Oh sure, just thinking about yourself, are you?"

Tiffany burped loudly, forcing her striated chest to ripple and expand outwards with a slight dose of growth. This, in turn, caused the evidently undersized top Clara had loaned her for sleeping in overnight to rip and burst like a pinata, exposing the teen's pecs to the two older siblings. Tiffany wiped her mouth. "Um...don't suppose you have any more food on the go, do you?"

Billie watched Clara begrudgingly help the teen find more food to eat. Sure, Tiffany was a guest in the house, but that didn't give her the right to eat the family out of house and home. Clara opened the cabinet where the soups and several pasta packets were stored. Clara was smart to think ahead by giving off the impression there was less food than there actually was. "There's a packet of pasta here. If you want, I can make that up for—"

"Great! I love pasta." Tiffany's shoulder only slightly nudged Clara's, but the surprising brute strength behind it still managed to push the comparatively taller girl aside. Tiffany spotted the five packets of pasta, grabbed them all and turned on the stove. "There's a lot of protein in it, you know."

Billie and Clara shared a realization, watching Tiffany start cooking the pasta: there was now literally no food left in the house.

At that point Susan entered the kitchen, her muscled calves laid bare under her dressing gown, her bed hair not that different from Billie's. "Morning girls. What's for breakfast today?"

Billie and Clara scoffed, rolling their eyes.

***

Susan watched. That was all she could bring herself to do, listening to Tiffany's grunts of effort as she pressed well over 5 times her own weight, her forehead and neck glistening and matted with sweat. Susan just couldn't understand how someone under a quarter her age could outperform her. Tiffany was no longer using, Susan knew, and yet the teen was performing as if she was.

"More weight!" Tiffany bellowed. She wanted to push her body to the absolute limit, the weight Susan had set up no longer enough to satisfy her. She was already pushing past the older woman's personal bests merely weeks after being taken up as a client. "Double, no, triple it!"

"Feeling that rush, are you?" Susan was impressed by Tiffany. It reminded her of her own dedication, dredging up memories spending days, even weeks in the gym before showing face to her family again, adding triple the original weight, bringing its new total to well over 100KGs. Even Susan couldn't handle that much at the same age. She watched the girl continue pressing, the machine now starting to groan in its effort to resist.

Only now did Tiffany feel challenged, the weight finally pushing back and resisting her brute strength. Her calves bulged outward, laiden with thick veins that twitched in tandem with her effort to drive the leg press forward. She huffed, grunted and winced, shedding tears over the unbearable pain. A pain she strangely chased after.

Tiffany stopped, resting her legs out to the side. She smiled, looking at how swollen and pumped they had become. There was no questioning it, with no need to compare: Tiffany's quads were now well over twice as large as Susan's. A distinctive vein ran up the length of both legs, thick and and twitching, as if full of energy.

"You know, back in your day, I bet it would've taken years to get quads big as these." Tiffany couldn't resist slapping her quads and shaking them, giggling like a schoolgirl as she watched them tense up into a flex and ripple. What the teen said was true. And yet Tiffany was able to surpass Susan in only a few weeks. "And to think I'm only sixteen, which means there's room left for growth, and lots of it."

Susan thought back to what Tiffany's mother Jackie said about who the father was. It was fairly certain he had to be someone with mesomorphic genes that were passed down to his daughter, but were clearly more extreme than they ought to be, and seemingly became more apparent as Tiffany matured.

There was more to Tiffany's father than what was being let on by Jackie.

"Tiffany, what do you know about your father?" Susan asked, keeping an eye on a teen's form as she went through bicep curls, the sleeves of her top tearing more and more with each rep.

"Not much. I know he and my mum had a fling before I was born."

"Yes, but what did you actually know about him?"

"I know he was a big guy. A bodybuilder like myself, if I remember correctly. My mum was a fan of his and used to attend his shows." Tiffany's focus had shifted somewhat, her mind now trailing off to memories of her mother sharing details about the teen's father. Tiffany wasn't sure why Susan had brought up the subject of her father, but it was clearly starting to affect the teen, the bicep curls now starting to come in at a slower pace. "She says he's a shiftless loafer, but I don't believe she means that."

"You ever thought about trying to find your dad? Or at least try to see what happened to him, since he dropped off?"

Tiffany re-racked the dumbbells, pulling her arms up into a double bicep pose, The sleeves of her top bursting to let her new pumped peaks pop out. She had thought about it, but for some reason was too afraid to ask, worried about what the answer would be. "I guess."

"If you'd like, we can bring the subject up with your mother the next time we talk."

That sounded like a good idea to Tiffany. But all her energy and focus presently was dedicated to the workout. Once that was over, the teen would take up Susan's offer. Tiffany's smile signed the deal.

Susan mirrored the teen's expression. "Alrighty then. But first, let's see about getting you some new, bigger clothes."

Tiffany chuckled.

***

"What about this? Think this suits me?" Angela presented a cute top for Trent to look at.

"Absolutely." Trent agreed. Yes, the cute top did, indeed, suit his mother, his mind already fashioning moments of her parading it around the house, their bodies pressing against one another as they would share yet another kiss, her hand groping his ever-larger sack.

Angela grabbed three tubs of protein powder from the shelf, stacking them at the front. Trent already had well over twenty of them stashed in his bedroom cupboard, but these tubs weren't for him. Angela daren't take from her darling son's stash. He looked at her with equal parts curiosity and concern.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to start working out now?"

Angela smiled. Her son's concern was touching, but she was persistent. "Don't worry, darling, I'll be fine," she answered, tenderly placing a hand over Trent's cheek.

Trent's mind regarding the present subject seemed to dissipate the moment his mother touched his cheek, but the other, far more prevalent problem started bubbling up from the back of his mind. "And what about Taylor? You still haven't told her about...us."

Angela was initially of the mind to tell Taylor the extent of their relationship, but— "She doesn't need to know about us. You can just break things off with her like a normal relationship."

"Really? After everything you went through to set things up?"

"Yes. After all.."Angela put a hand to her belly. "...I have you now."

Trent could tell from his mother's tone that she was starting to get turned on, looking at the thick pecs housed within the tight and slightly torn blue shirt, his shameless near-constant erection poking from his trousers. It didn't take much for Angela to grope his bulge as she bit her lip. They each inched closer to one another, readying to kiss—

Angela pulled away, moving the trolley further down the aisle, looking at the other fitness-oriented foodstuffs. Trent was disappointed in his mother choosing not to embrace their kiss, but he should've known her to be a tease by now, especially with that tight ass of hers in those jeans. "While we're in this aisle though, I ought to get you some stuff. I want to ramp everything up. Your calorie intake, your steroid and Trazo dosage — everything. Of course, I'll be sharing in the steroids and such too."

"Mum, I don't think that's—"

"What, safe?" Angela was surprised by her son's attitude towards the situation as she tossed several boxes of protein bars into the trolley. "Sweetie, we're a mother and son who fuck each other on a daily basis. I hardly think 'safe' is part of our vocabulary."

Trent just wasn't sure. He'd likely have felt different if his mother was a bit younger, but the reality was jarring, to say the least, taking the pregnancy into account. "I just don't know."

"You say that now, but no doubt when my body starts changing — growing more muscular — you'll feel differently about it. Now come with me to the changing rooms, I want to try this new lace top on now."

***

Trent had been only been waiting outside the changing for a little over five minutes, but to him it felt like hours. He checked his watch, huffing as the time read two thirty. On a normal day Trent would've been back at his gym at this time, either finishing yet another set or managing the finances, both official and unofficial.

"Come on! How long does it take to put on a top?" he queried in annoyance, picking up shuffling from behind the curtain at his back, his mother clearly nowhere near ready.

Angela chuckled. "Patience. It'll be worth it."

Trent was dubious to believe his mother. They both knew he would just rip it clean off her chest the moment they'd start fucking again, whenever that was. He checked his phone. A text from Taylor had come through at some point asking where he was, which Trent was in no particular rush to answer.

The shuffling behind the curtain stopped, followed by silence. Trent put his ear to the curtain. "You ready then?"

Trent didn't expect to get yanked into the changing room, his mother's gentle hand grabbing him by the shirt, stumbling forward with a grunt. By the time he'd reasserted his footing and vision, he was presented with his mother's naked body, smiling at him as she moved closer, a hand brushing his bulge,her pregnancy reflecting in the mirror.

Angela was, indeed, ready, unbuckling Trent's belt.

It didn't take much for him to embrace the moment, feeling his mother's mouth engulf the full length of his shaft, her hands pushing his muscled ass in to push him in closer, therefore taking more of him in her waiting maw. The gagging was deliberate of course.

Trent grunted, his face twitching in an erotic spasm as he felt his mother's tongue brush his shaft, her dotting eyes staring up cutely at her Greek god of a son, watching him unbutton and remove his shirt, thus revealing his chiseled abs and striated pecs, which he invitingly bounced to entice his mother further. Her arousal heightened at this display, unintentionally biting down hard on Trent's cock, but he didn't even feel the pressure, nor pain.

Angela pulled away and turned to present her ass to Trent. His cock had been lathered enough by her saliva to allow for easier insertion into her ass, which came quickly as Trent pushed deep into it with no warning, grunting and growling beastly. Angela giggled, cupping her hand over his cheek. "Ooooh, someone's feisty today."

Trent and Angela both knew they shouldn't have been having sex so blatantly in a public space, but they didn't care. Their collective rush of emotions blinded them, distorting their senses and only taking in one another's grunts and moans as Trent's thrusts came rhythmically.

Sex in a public space was risky...but thrilling.

[Amnoartist]

Chapter 9

Billie wasn't entirely sure if this was the right idea. Sure, she'd let it simmer in the back of her head for a couple of days, but even after then she felt a sense of resistance. Billie argued this was comeuppance for the individual this was aimed towards, the only way she'd really be noticed by them, as hurtful as it felt. She'd never been in a proper gym before, those swarmed by vain meat-heads and HGH-fuelled roid monsters who'd spend more time eye-fucking their own reflections than anything. It was a sweat-stenched iron jungle of uncertainty and throbbing meat, and yet the only place Billie could go.

Some of the females were bigger than guys who'd been training for longer, their feminine features long since replaced with strong jaw lines and gruff vocal tones rivalling even the most masculine of men in the establishment. Billie had always known her mother to take bodybuilding seriously, to the point of obsession, but never once thought there would be others just like her, or arguably even more obsessed, watching one woman in particular bench press what had to be well over four times Billie's weight. It was by no means a proper feat in the grander scheme of things, but no less impressive to Billie regardless.

Trent was in the back spotting one of his clients doing flyes, carefully scrutenizing the comparatively smaller woman's form, though couldn't help but sneak a glance or two at her firm glutes whenever the opportunity presented itself. The mirror ahead reflecting back at them, he couldn't exactly hide it, but it didn't look as if the client minded. Frankly, she appreciated the odd looks.

The last time Billie saw Trent was when they were teenagers. Back then, Trent was still being groomed by his father Wyatt to become the biggest bodybuilder there was. Given how big he was now, it didn't take Billie much to figure out that the large specimen before her was indeed him. She couldn't help herself from admiring him from behind, particularly his own firm glutes. She bit her lip suggestively before bringing herself to speak.

"Trent?"

He turned, initially with confusion before taking in Billie's features and seeing the similarities shared with Susan: the blonde locks of hair, green eyes, the comparatively slender legs. Trent smiled. "Billie. Christ, how long's it been? What, five or six years?"

"Something like that, yeah," was Billie's soft-toned response. Damn it — she'd rehearsed her speech down to every word, but seeing Trent in all his Greek god glory, taking particular notice of his pectorals flaying sporadically as he moved caused it to melt completely from her mind. She just stood there aimlessly now, like some dumb thing.

"Can I help you with something?" Trent tried to get the conversation going again; tried to kill the obvious awkwardness that hung between them.

"Oh, yeah, um...can we talk in private for a sec?"

Trent smiled. "Sure." He whispered to client to continue their set while he was away, urging Billie away from the cacophony of clanging steel and grunts to his office.

***

Trent wasn't sure how to feel about it, but Billie told him everything, right down to the last detail. Even then, he still had to properly get his head around it. "So let me get this straight: you wanna start working out, bulk up like me, to get back at your mum?"

Billie scoffed. It wasn't that hard to understand, honestly. "You heard what I said. She cares more about some other dumb chick's kid than her own."

"But how does that get back at her?"

"Bodybuilding's all Mum understands. She lives and breathes it every second of every day." It hurt Billie to have to admit that was the case. She couldn't believe she had to resort to this. "Doing this gets me noticed."

Trent sighed. He somewhat understood Billie's plight but even then wasn't sure how this was going to pan out in the long-term. But that wasn't to say he wouldn't commit to it. "So I take it you want me to be your trainer and keep this a secret?"

"That's the idea."

Trent looked at Billie dubiously.

***

It was the end-of-term parents night at Tiffany's high school and things weren't going particularly well for the aspiring champion bodybuilder. She fidgeted in her seat, its tiny wooden frame barely able to contain her bulk as it groaned. The sleeve of her top visibly strained as she scratched her neck, barely showing an indication of interest towards what her teacher Mr Hudson had to say.

"And then there's the subject of her grades. Frankly, she's failing across the board." He presented a sheet of paper with a list of Tiffany's grades from the start of term until now, not even trying to hide his evident disappointment. "At the start of the year she was one of the top three students in class, now she's fallen within the lowest grade group."

Tiffany's mother Jackie was quick to jump to her daughter's defense. "She has a very important competition coming up. It could be life-changing for her."

Mr Hudson was surprised. And not in the good kind of way. He was disappointed in Tiffany. She was looking to be one of the school's top students by the time she reached sixth form, yet that obviously went downhill by the time Tiffany took up bodybuilding. Mr Hudson scratched his forehead. "I think I can speak for all my colleagues when I say a bodybuilding competition is secondary to a steady education, Missus Hunt."

"Jackie."

"Jackie. But on that subject: I hardly think a sport so physically demanding as bodybuilding is something someone Tiffany's age should be taking on." Mr Hudson couldn't help but look at Tiffany and notice her jawline was distinctly more pronounced than his own, for someone less than half his age. "And let's not ignore the blatant steroid use. Just this morning we caught her injecting a sizable amount of it into herself before gym class. During which, I might add, she was quick to hoard the free weights for herself."

"They were too light anyway," Tiffany argued. Her voice had gotten even deeper over the last few days. It was even more so than Mr Hudson's, so it was no wonder why he visibly cringed when he heard her speak.

Jackie turned to Tiffany. "You told me you'd stop using."

Tiffany scoffed. "I can only get so big naturally before needing to turn to 'roids. You know that." "I've gotta win this competition," she added, smugly grinning when her sleeve busted to reveal the bicep throbbing underneath.

"Ah, that's something we need to touch on. The — ahem — wardrobe malfunctions," Mr Hudson mentioned.

Jackie's face turned red with embarrassment. "I've been meaning to get ahead of that. Her growth just out-paces my ability to do that. You know?"

"Of course. Just understand she's had three 'mishaps' this week alone. It's worth mentioning: I'm not saying she can't compete. She just has to work on her priorities. Education above training. I trust you'll be able to steer Tiffany in that direction?"

"Of course," was Jackie's response.

Tiffany grumbled, folding her arms over her thick pecs dressed under tightly-clad under armor. "You know, Susan would've thought differently."

"What did you say?" Jackie was less than impressed with her daughter's snide remark.

"I said, Susan would've thought differently. She would've encouraged me to do what I'm doing."

"Oh, would she?" Jackie offered a sarcastic smile. "I hardly think that's true."

Tiffany sulked.

***

Angela had been with her friend Audrey for what had to be three straight hours now, conversing unsurprisingly about all things women typically do. So it certainly didn't come as a shock to Trent's self that boredom was the core feeling controlling him. He would've been working out by now, if not for the fact Angela had him slaving away at the kitchen making little nibbles for her and Audrey to share.

"So there I was, right, minding my own business when Jacqueline..." Trent sighed softly as he cut the cheese to place neatly on sandwiches, two freshly-made cups of tea and biscuits at the side, too. He didn't care for what Audrey had to say about, well, anything honestly. He especially didn't care for the comments made about the woman's sibling.

Angela laughed, her breasts bouncing up and down as if to mirror her exuberance, biting softly on the little nibble. She'd been eating a lot lately, far more than usual, serious about her decision to bulk up and match her hunk of a son. He'd been quietly mapping out a shared diet and workout plan for them over the past few days. Though for reasons made obvious only to them, there was no real need to add cardiovascular training.

Trent placed the fresh platter of sandwiches and cups of tea down next to Angela and Audrey, whipping the dish towel over his shoulder. With slaving over the kitchen counter almost at an end, he could feel the excitement build within him knowing he was now one moment closer to working out in the basement gym, his place of Zen.

"Thank you, darling. Clean up, then you can go, okay?"

Trent grumbled, yet begrudgingly complied.

Audrey couldn't help but ogle Trent as he pulled the kitchen spray out from the small cupboard below the sink, his back muscles bulging and threatening to rip clean through his tank top. His biceps were bare, pressed into his sides, shoulders pumpkin'd and striated. And his glutes — God, there wasn't an inch of fat on them. Just raw, powerful muscle. It was no wonder why Audrey's nipples had gotten so brazenly erect, like they could through glass.

"So what's the sex like?" she asked nonchalantly in a hushed tone.

"I'm not sure what you mean," was Angela's response.

"Oh, come off it, Angie. Look at him!" Audrey's eyes trailed Trent's powerful body once more, fantasizing about exploring it from calf to neck, wondering perversely about all kinds of things she'd love him to do to her. She'd been starved of sex for years, her husband now too focused on his job to notice her blatant advances. Trent was like a Greek god in comparison with not just Audrey's oblivious husband, but any man. His powerful body only reinforced her desire for carnal pleasure. "He's nothing but a big, bulging bag of tastiness."

"How did you—"

"Figure it out? Honestly, it wasn't that hard. For one thing, who wouldn't want to take advantage of a body like his anyway. And to think someone of his age is still living with his mother despite being independently wealthy from all those sponsorships and gym memberships he sells. He could practically live alone, and yet—" Audrey stopped, letting her point hang in the air for a bit before leaning in closer with a shrewd smile. "Besides, don't think I haven't caught you looking at that ass of his too. Ain't no way you got knocked up otherwise. I mean, look at you! You're big as a jackfruit!"

"It's amazing." Angela resigned to coming clean with a blush. Her mind had already flashed back to earlier in the week when she and Trent had fucked so hard for so long that the bedroom positively radiated with their collective body heat, almost turning it into a sex furnace. "Did you know he fucked me so hard earlier in the week that I could barely walk for the rest of it? I can barely feel my ass even now."

Audrey bit her lip, her mind positively rushing with imaginary moments of Trent doing the exact same to her. "How big is he?"

"You know how big he is. He's muscles are bigger than his father's at the same age."

"No," Audrey chuckled softly. "How 'big' is he?"

Angela then understood, nodding with a slight grin not dissimilar to what Audrey had expressed earlier. Angela knew Audrey's mind would shatter at the sheer size of Trent's cock. "Trent dear, would you come here for a second?"

Trent grumbled. He'd have preferred getting the cleaning over with to then workout rather than do whatever the hell his mother wanted now, but he had to be 'a good boy' to then be rewarded later that night. So he complied, the tiles creaking and squeaking under his weight as he approached. He had expected his mother to ask him to perform some other menial task such as those for the past few hours, not brazenly unzip his trousers.

"Mum, what're you—"

"It's okay, sweetie. Audrey knows."

And with that Trent not only became more relaxed, but actively helped his mother, whipping out his monster cock and holding it firmly in his hand. His thumb brushed over the shaft, veins encrusting and bulging.

Angela cupped Trent's balls in her hand, each testicle the size of an orange, massaging them.

"Christ, what the hell have you been feeding him? Was Audrey's response.

Angela chuckled at first, before the inkling of an idea formed in her head, looking at Trent, then to Audrey. "Trent, dear...do you think you could do something for the two of us?"

Trent's brow furrowed...

***

Trent had become so used to passionate moments with one woman that his mind seemed to lose it when it became two. Angela and Audrey knelt before his snake of a cock, his mother pulling and tugging his shaft while Audrey was practically lost for words as she cupped and massaged his balls.

Audrey moved closer to Angela, their naked breasts slapping and massaging one another betwixt the mixture of erotic moans and sighs from both women. Angela's hand moved to Audrey's thigh, rubbing it gently, lovingly as the other woman moved her hand to Angela's cheek. They looked at one another. Before long, the two women locked lips, sharing an embrace as Trent watched, his cock bulging with the inevitable excitement.

"Ooooh, he likes it!"

Angela chuckled, turning to Trent as she fondled her breast, which Audrey was all too happy to suck on, making the woman's nipples even harder. Of course Trent was jealous, wishing Audrey's cute lips were instead wrapped around the length of his cock, wanting to hear her gag pretentiously as it was shoved down her waiting throat.

"Trent, dear, why don't you give Audrey here a little taste?" Angela rubbed the woman's back invitingly, urging Audrey on to move between Trent's trunky thighs. It went without saying that Audrey didn't need much convincing — seeing the sheer size of his cock was enough to assert her decision in taking him. Though Audrey was fairly sure Trent's shaft had grown thicker at some point, the veins bulging and full of vigor, her palm now barely big enough to hold it.

Trent's wish was then reality. He listened to Audrey gag on his meat, though it wasn't as pretentious as he originally envisioned. Almost as if she actually was struggling to take him. But not through lack of trying, she kept on, her mouth stretching in its attempt to envelope more of his shaft, drool trickling down her chin.

"Audrey's quite the slut, isn't she?"

Audrey and Angela shared in their chuckle, the occupied woman fondling her breast to further entice Trent. She ran her free hand over his chiseled abs, her pussy practically numb at how powerful he appeared to be — almost godlike. Audrey's mind ran wild with images of her being vigorously pounded by him. What she wouldn't give for that to happen...

Angela just watched, gently rubbing her clit in silence as Trent's shaft shifted with his movements, the floorboard creaking under his bulk, grunting as Audrey started audibly swallowing his load, who moaned even at that. Angela was proud of her son's achievement in this moment.

Trent hadn't fully emptied his balls, yet pulled his cock free from Audrey's mouth. Disappointment wasn't what overcame the woman, but a sense of knowing, as if she was aware of what Trent wanted. Watching him stroke, she presented her breasts to him and waited for the inevitable torrent of cum to flow and coat them. When it happened, a girlish chuckle escaped from her lungs, gasping profusely as a second shot sprayed across her face and hair.

"See? He had a lot to offer," Angela said.

"Tell me about it." Audrey gathered a dollop of cum hanging loosely from her breast and sucked on it, swallowing loudly.

"There's plenty more where that came from, Audrey." Angela moved to Trent, resting a hand on his cheek. He was far from spent, already stiffening up again as his mother shifted to slide into him. Before long, the predictably rhythmic slapping of her cheeks against his thighs came, Audrey circling around to Trent's rear so she could embrace Angela in a kiss, embracing them both in a cocoon of ecstasy.

[Amnoartist]

Realised it's been a while since I last updated this series, so thought I'd rectify that with two chapters. Hope you enjoy!

[sw1ngy]

Much appreciated, hope more comes

[tapion]

There are some more to read on his DA site... And even more on his patreon